Monday 29 July 2013

That Filthiest of Lucre

Last week, three men were in the news, and all in connection with money and wealth. Two are churchmen, and the third, an animation filmaker. For the first two, Justin Welby, Archbishop of Canterbury, and Pope Francisco, the issue has been reconciling the relationship Jesus had with money, with the enormous wealth that the two religious institutions they lead have to manage. How can the church truly represent the spirit and power of Jesus, when it’s so linked in to the powers of this world’s “mammon”, the financial institutions we’ve become so accustomed to regarding as the big bosses that run things.

For the Archbishop, the problems arose when he sought to challenge the obscene greed of just one aspect of our 21st Century system of usury, the so called “payday lenders” in the UK. The media immediately took him to task by digging around in some of the more dubious investment practices of the Church Commissioners, the organisation that manages Anglican wealth. Over on the other side of the world, and in a spot more known for its ostentatious wealth and luxury

than for a spirit of self sacrifice, Copacabana Beach the new Pope sought to direct the attention of the three million masses, to a life of simplicity and truth, and away from the more obvious excesses of the Vatican hierarchy’s wealth and corruption.

Interesting for me to compare the two men, and to see how, the one having arrived at senior Church leadership from having had a role in big business, and the other having come up from more lowly origins as a priest, yet both exhibit a similar impatience and, indeed, revulsion with the way that money, and greed for more money, grabs our attention, and ultimately corrupts, and turns us away from the way of Jesus.

The third man, in total contrast, is Sam Simon, the co-creator of the Simpsons cartoon series, along with Matt Groening.  Simon is currently dying from colonic cancer, and has been facing up to an eternity without a cash in hand bank balance, by practically divesting himself of the millions he won’t need on the other side, giving them to charitable causes. There’s no particular indication of a spiritual side to his philantropy, or any faith commitment there, but he does confess to the great joy giving money away has given him. Setting these three stories from last week side by side makes me think about how I am at managing the resources given to me.



Saturday 27 July 2013

Praia de Malhão - Wish U Were Here

Down the west coast of Portugal, the Costa Alentejana, lies the Praia de Malhão, that most Irish of Portuguese beaches. Don’t know why it should be so, but it just feels Irish. Something about the smell of the ozone, the way the seagulls wheel around the craggy rock formations, or the splashes of colour where sea pinks and other flowers blossom in the cliffs. Or, maybe it’s the lack of access - no paved carpark, no boardwalk, no coffee shops, no restaurants serving bacalhau and sardines. But it’s wonderful. And still very popular in these summer months with Portuguese holiday makers from the nearby resort of Vila Nova de Milfontes. For me, it’s the undiscovered, non-Algarve, non-Lisbon side of the Portuguese coast I love the best

The sort of beach you want to send home picture postcards about. You know, the sort of cards that says “Wish U Were Here”. I was thinking about that, because of reading John 14:3 today, which is sort of Jesus’ holiday picture postcard to all of his friends, saying how he so wants them to be where he is. We tend to write postcards from holidays to people we care about for two main reasons - one, because we want to share how much we are enjoying it, and secondly, because we value our relationship with them so much, and wish they could be with us. But we often write these sentiments so casually, and without much meaning.

When Jesus says that his desire is that “where I am, there you may be also”, he means every word, and ... the postcard is written in his blood. It’s not a vague throwaway comment - “Oh, I wish you could enjoy Heaven with me”. It’s a purposeful statement of intent. I’m going to make sure that you will get to where I am going - even if it kills me