Context
Jacob Zuma felt entitled to hold on to power far longer than even his close colleagues wanted for him. South Africa is in something of a wilderness time economically and wild beasts of corruption stalk the land. Zuma could do with some wilderness time alone where he can search his heart and see what kind of person he really should be. We might recall his namesake Jacob wrestling with God in the wild by the river, a gifted and corrupt individual who always felt entitled to blessing but with whom God was able to do something remarkable. Jacob Zuma isn't all bad, but the sense of entitlement that gradually excuses corruption twists and distorts the visage of any person, and any country, whose genuine gifts have become obscured.
Meanwhile, related to this, the gut-twisting revulsion we feel at behaviour at the President's Club fundraising dinner is provoked by men's sense of entitlement, which is peculiarly ugly because it is precisely their being powerful enough to give lots of money that inflates the ego and twists generosity into an ugly parody. A bit of us may be darkly pleased to see the rich make fools of themselves, but there is a different order of revulsion again when we hear aid workers for Oxfam have wilfully created opportunities for manipulation, objectification and subjugation precisely when a community is at its lowest point. (With bleak predictability other charities, too, start appearing, and the church will point no fingers. We can trace, before it happens, exactly how the story is kept going by the press that feeds on shame.) Even the reported arrogant driving by aid workers, as though they can behave with impunity because they are heroes, again distorts the face of charitas into something ugly. It is a distortion, though. The charitas is there, but horribly disfigured. The passions that make us reach out to someone in need are the same passions that make us reach out in vulnerability for intimate union. The flame of anger at injustice is the same flame of passion that would reach arms protectively around a lover. That is not at any level to excuse, but it is to admit as human beings that in the intensity of crisis, a distortion of our best humanity can occur, becoming deeply destructive, ugly and hurtful.
Reflection
On February 11th 1990 Nelson Mandela walked out of prison. At large multi-ethnic gatherings at that time, Archbishop Tutu would ask people to raise their hands and say ‘look at your hands, different colours representing different people. You are the rainbow people of God.’ (interview, December 1991) ‘Rainbow people’ from another's lips could sound unbearably naïve, but from him, in that context, it was powerful and perception shifting for a whole nation.
A rainbow appears when it is still raining and you have your back to the sun. It is a glorious, naively colourful extravagance precisely when you are looking away from the light, into the dark grey clouds. God has described it very ironically. First, it is a weapon, a bow, but this bow is not for killing. It is a comically bright provoker of hope. Secondly, God says it is to remind him of his promise. God needs no reminding. He is undermining our cynical defence against hope and reminding us of his promise.
As democratic government began, truth and reconciliation started to heal, and legal freedoms were established in a new constitution. There was much energetic hope, but few thought it would be a short, easy journey out of their troubles. Twenty-eight years on, politically and economically it is still raining in South Africa and t would be easy to despair and turn your back on the sun. Replacing white entitlement with differently corrupt individual entitlement is to pour scorn on the courage of those whose sacrifice has led them so far. But there is still lively hope, and determination; the constitution seems to be holding; there are other new leaders ready. Interestingly, Zuma's persistence and courage in negotiation in opposition early on were much needed, admired gifts. Now, distorted by entitlement, they look less attractive and are part of the problem.
Perhaps he needs some wilderness time and should not feel weak if he leaves and goes to search his heart. If he let the Spirit drive him into the wilderness, hierarchies stripped away, where there is no-one to over-assert yourself with, through inner struggle he might find again the person he is meant to be. That would be strength.
There is a paradox in these horrible displays of entitlement. Those who objectify others, sexually or politically and economically, are ultimately diminishing themselves, craving meaningful, passionate connection, pathetically attempting to manufacture a feeling of affirmation by the humiliation of others, scrabbling for status but, with each move, shaming themselves. I believe, deep down inside somewhere, they know this to be the case. Their self-esteem at the deepest level is very low, so even their material success is not enough to satisfy their thirst for meaning. They seek it in power, but there is always a shadow of fear in the eyes of such a person. Such entitlement is hollow, meaningless and self-defeating. What these (usually) men need is not entitlement but proper affirmation, and real affirmation will come with life-giving struggle.
When Jesus is baptised he hears an exquisite intimate word from his father. It is a whisper of a voice, saying ‘I love you and am pleased with you.’ The same Spirit that brought him that affirmation then drives him into the wilderness where he struggles, as the other Gospels spell out, with who he is and should be. This is the ‘Son of God’ who is ‘good news’ (Mark 1.1). If he needs affirmation and experiences struggle, we should accept our need for affirmation and feel reassured that we are not alone or odd or ashamed for struggling with who we are. That heart searching is not a sign of weakness. The opposite: it is a sign of the work of the Spirit. It is a sign of closeness to God, not distance. Both the warm blessing and the inner struggle are facets of intimacy with God. Jesus going through them is an enormous affirmation of our humanity. He acknowledges our desire for some kind of approval, yet deeply challenges the destructive or self-indulgent ways we often seek it. Rising out of the river Jordan, then rising from the Tomb, Jesus helps us accept that facing up to our shame is realistic, but unlike the press, who get bored and move on, he never wants to leave us there. In his community, confession of sin is a beginning, an opening, out of which God brings new life. Lenten penitence is never an end in itself, but a realistic discipline that leads to joyful mercy. In confession, even as we look back into the greyness of our regret, heaven's light from behind us casts a rainbow through it, a promise of new life.
Rather like John Steinbeck, the writer of Mark echoes forward and back poetically with many detailed word choices:
- Jesus sees the heavens are torn open (1.10); the curtain in the Temple will be torn for us (15.38).
- God's declaration of Jesus as son (1.10) will be echoed by a centurion at the end (15.39).
- God's private word to Jesus will be echoed in a declaration to disciples at the transfiguration (9.7).
- The Spirit drives Jesus into the wilderness, and Jesus will drive (same Greek word) spirits out of the afflicted (1.34; 7.26).
So doing, he heightens our senses and alerts us to the implications for all of what is happening for Jesus and so can happen for us.
While huge organisations, famous leaders and whole countries find their inadequacies on display, our temptation may be to hope they distract enough from our own. Having taken a hard look at these entitlements and abuses, we should surely enter a space without hierarchy to discern what we have slowly come to feel entitled to, re-learning the twin virtues of dependence on God and disciplined thanksgiving to re-adjust our vision as we return to engage with the world. It may be that in the bustle we fail to hear God whispering affirmation to us.
Emerging from the wilderness, we might try spending more energy offering others healthy affirmation, than seeking it ourselves.
Prayer
For any in positions of power, whose personal insecurities cause pain to other people;
for any feeling entitled to, rather than privileged to hold office;
for any so flooded with grief, so disorientated by loss, that even a rainbow is beyond their vision;
for any whose self-criticism is so loud they cannot hear your affirmation:
Lord, show us how to minister to them.
As we join the distress and criticism of abusive behaviour borne of false entitlement, we pray for our attitude to the earth and her oceans. Deepen our gratitude and care, that future generations may not find us just as ugly in our abusive treatment of her.
Amen.
Questions
- In the winter Olympics we see people who have trained, hidden away for years, now performing superbly for a few intense minutes. Are there any helpful parallels here with Lenten disciplines, training of our virtues that might enable good reactions when a crisis comes?
- After his sister's smiling visit to the Olympics, North Korean President Kim Jong-un this week thanked the South for ‘specially prioritising’ his country's teams presence at the Games, and spoke of wanting to ‘liven up’ the ‘warm climate of reconciliation and dialogue’. A few weeks ago this would have been unthinkable. Are there any conflicts, personal, local or national, where relating over some other matter might change the tone and possibility of communication?
- Is there anyone you know experiencing wilderness time who might need someone to minister to them, as angel-messengers did for Jesus, and lead them back to community life?
Meditative Action
Watch any episode of Blue Planet II. Consider the wonders of the sea, opening yourself to the possibility of prayer or praise.
Think of Noah in a world entirely flooded and accept the frightening power of water.
Pray for places threatened by rising sea levels and places in drought.
Close by praying the words of Psalm 77.16-20.
Young People
The sea is so huge and uncontrollable, it became an image of death and chaos in Bible poetry. (The waters before the Spirit brought order in creation Genesis 1.1; the Red Sea through which Israel was saved in Exodus; Psalm 77). Perhaps when there is something too overwhelming for solution or explanation, but which weighs on our heart, such as the ghastly plane crash in Russia this week, imagining plunging to the bottom of the sea with a Bible poet might be prayer enough. Then, read the prayer of trust at the end of Psalm 77, verses 16-20.
The sea is also so big we have not cared how we treat it. Now it is poisoned with plastic; global warming changes the plant life within it, affecting the generation of oxygen for our atmosphere; there are huge dead zones in the Gulf of Mexico caused by human pollution. Have a look at this recent article and see if there are any places special to you that are threatened. You could raise with your church leadership the question of whether your congregation might look into becoming an Eco Church.
David Warbrick is Vicar of All Saints Kings Heath in the Diocese of Birmingham, pressing towards becoming an Eco Diocese. He does not feel worthy to be vicar of this bronze level Eco Church as he is too fond of hot baths and feels rather too entitled to their comfort, but at least immersing himself in water from time to time reminds him of his baptism.
Hypertext links to other websites are for the convenience of users only and do not constitute any endorsement or authorisation by ROOTS for Churches Ltd.