One of these little ones
From Wellington Cathedral of St Paul
One of these little ones 26 June 2011 The Revd Jenny Wilkens
- Genesis 22:1-14
- Psalm 13
- Romans 6:12-23
- Matthew 10:40-42
http://wellingtoncathedral.org.nz/index.php/Sermons
Children have been in the news this week, or at least some very contemporary concerns about children. I heard part of a radio interview with Reg Bailey, the Chief Executive of Mothers' Union in the UK, who's recently conducted a review for the British government on the commercialisation and sexualisation of childhood, through such things as advertising, clothing and music videos. The review is called Letting Children be Children.
Yesterday's DomPost also contained an article called Child's Play about social networking sites which are particularly aimed at children, and the benefits and possible pitfalls of these.
But you may think that's nothing compared with the horror of our reading from Genesis today where we seem to find an abusive father Abraham, a vulnerable child Isaac, an absent mother Sarah, and a God who seems to be orchestrating the unthinkable - child sacrifice - how can we make any sense of this?
As usual it will help us to get this shocking event into some sort of context. First of all we need to remember we are talking about a time about 4000 years before our own, roughly 2000BC. And the reality was that child sacrifice was a well-known part of pagan religious practices of the time, probably seen as a way of appeasement of the gods.
We know from later parts of the Old Testament that child sacrifice was as abhorrent to Jews as it would later be to Christians. Perhaps in this Genesis story we are seeing an ethical shift within the understanding of God's people. Perhaps we see here Abraham's shift in perception from a God who could demand child sacrifice to a God who does not, and indeed provides an alternative. Abraham ultimately takes a counter-cultural stance, and so does his God.
It's been put this way: 'Abraham's faith consisted, not of almost doing what he didn't do, but of not doing what he almost did, and not doing it in fidelity to the God in whose name his contemporaries thought it should be done.' (Gil Bailie, Violence Unveiled: Humanity at the Crossroads (New York: Crossroad, 1995), 140)
So much for the broader cultural context. It is essential to recognise too that the Bible considers this story is about the testing of Abraham's faith: will Abraham trust and obey the Giver of the gift of Isaac, or is his interest and concern ultimately only for the Gift? The immediate context of this story is important here too - in the chapter before, Abraham has sent off his other son Ishmael, along with Ishmael's mother Hagar, into the desert to fend for themselves and likely die. Is Abraham yet again seeking to manipulate the situation for his own ends, rather than trusting in God to fulfil his promises in his own way?
Abraham passes the test of faith, with what our Romans reading calls 'obedience from the heart' (Rom 6:17) but we mustn't ignore the cost of this to him. The Genesis account is pared back to the facts, Abraham seems dogged and unfeeling in what he does to our over-heated sensibilities. There are few suggestions of the pathos involved. Yet the rest of the Bible reminds us that faith learns obedience through suffering (Hebrews 5:8) - so it was for Christ, so it was no doubt for Abraham, in facing the death of his beloved son.
We of course as Christians hear resonances all through this story of that other beloved Son, Jesus, who went to the cross, to die for us. We very quickly match up all the connections. But lest we say that God has learned nothing, that at the cross God is guilty of 'divine child abuse' as some would say today, we need to recall that 'God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself' (2 Corinthians 5:19). The sacrifice of the cross is not understandable without holding alongside it the mystery of God in Trinity, and so the self-sacrifice of God himself.
From the child Isaac in Genesis, we turn to the unnamed child of the Gospel. Not for the first time, Jesus uses a child as the model of a disciple: "whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple…will not lose their reward" (Mt 10:42). See also Matthew 11:25; 18: 2-6, 10.
As we keep Te Pouhere Sunday today, and consider our partnerships in this land in the Gospel, our choristers and Worship Centre children have been looking at the story of Tarore, a child and model disciple of our land, who has joined the calendar of saints of this Church.
Tarore was a 12 year old girl of the Waikato tribe, who had been taught to read by missionaries. Tarore’s greatest treasure was the gospel of Luke, recently translated into Maori, which she kept in a little flax bag around her neck. Each evening, after the day’s work was done, her father Chief Ngakuku and his people would gather to listen as Tarore read the Gospel to them. As Ngakuku listened, he realised that this book was more than just words. God told him that he sent his Son Jesus to die for everyone, including the Maori people. So both Ngakuku and Tarore became followers of Jesus, as God’s life-changing power began to work through Tarore’s little book. But a great trouble was ahead for their tribe in 1836. The Rotorua tribe were raiding pa along the Waikato river. Ngakuku decided to take all 20 of his tribe's children to safety in Tauranga.
However, the tribe’s journey to Tauranga was interrupted. One night, the 19th October, while they were camping in the Kaimai Ranges, the smoke of their campfire attracted a raiding party from Rotorua, led by Chief Uira. Ngakuku heard them approaching and managed to rescue his little son and some of the other children, moving them into the bushes out of sight. The battle was on as the warriors burst into their camp site. It was very quick but very terrible. When it was over, Ngakuku checked to see if anybody was missing. He found Tarore dead! And the little flax bag which hung around her neck was gone. Ngakuku's warriors called for utu - revenge! But Ngakuku said No! We will follow the words of Tarore’s book. The great God in Heaven, whom I have learned to love, will take care of revenge.
Meanwhile, Tarore’s little book had found its way into the pa of the Rotorua tribe. On the night of the raid, Chief Uira had stolen it. At first, he tossed the book aside, expecting to find greenstone or something of much more value. Uira could not read, so of what use was a book to him? Some time later, though, the little book was picked up by a slave named Ripahau, who was passing through Rotorua. He had learnt to read, so once again Tarore’s little book began to speak to the listeners who gathered around to hear Ripahau read. Even Chief Uira listened as Ripahau read about Jesus, and God’s love for all people. As Ripahau read from Luke’s gospel, God’s word went right to Uira’s heart. He decided to become a follower of Jesus, to go to Chief Ngakuku, tell him he was sorry for killing his daughter, and ask for his forgiveness.
So Uira went to Ngakuku and apologised for the murder of Tarore, and Ngakuku forgave him for Tarore’s death. Her little book brought the two chiefs together in peace. They knelt and prayed together. The slave Ripahau left Rotorua and traveled south to Otaki on the Kapiti coast. There he met Tamihana, son of the great Otaki chief Te Rauparaha. Ripahau taught Tamihana to read from Tarore's Gospel.
Tamihana began to change, saying: "I do not want war! I want to follow the way of peace." Tamihana taught his people from Tarore's gospel. He traveled up to the Bay of Islands to bring back a missionary to teach the people more about Jesus. He came back with Octavius Hadfield, a priest who worked for many years amongst the Maori and Pakeha in Otaki.
Once Chief Te Rauparaha was planning to destroy the Pakeha settlement in Wellington, but Octavius Hadfield pleaded with him and made peace. Gradually even Chief Te Rauparaha began to change his ways, and he supervised the building of the great Maori church, Rangiatea, at Otaki. Octavius Hadfield later became the 2nd Bishop of Wellington. So Tarore’s gospel of Luke went on a long pilgrimage through the North Island, and brought the good news of Jesus from Waikato to Rotorua then down to Otaki and here to Wellington. The death of a child led to the spread of the Gospel and the growth of the church throughout our land. As Tertullian said, The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.
A powerful part of Tarore's story is the fruitful partnerships between Maori and Pakeha in spreading the Gospel through this country. How can we express those partnerships today, is a challenge our church is grappling with at a number of levels, including at General Synod and at St John's College in Auckland. In July our church will be having a Common Life Missions Conference up the coast at Waikanae, an opportunity for Anglicans from all 3 tikanga to spend time together and hear some voices from the world church who are visiting us. I'm hoping to get up there at some stage that week, and I know others are too.
I wonder if the reality of our 3 tikanga partnership is not best expressed in day to day getting alongside each other and getting to know each other. That takes time in a time-scarce world, but perhaps time for relationships is something we can learn from our other tikanga partners.
Today Archdeacon Don Rangi will be reading the Gospel and assisting at our 10am eucharist. Don is a near neighbour of ours on two accounts in that he works in the Treasury, worships with us from time to time, and also takes services at our local Pipitea Marae. Two Tongan sisters from the Community of the Sacred Name have joined us in Wellington and I hope you will enjoy getting to know Srs Sandra and Longo as they spend some time with us as part of their ministry. Thank you too for your support of the Taita/Pomare mission project led by the Revd Charles Noanoa, through the wine auction at last Sunday's lunch and the goody basket raffle. Let us build on these partnerships, relationship by relationship, and so discover in one another the face of Christ. Amen.
