Bishop’s Pastoral Letter: Following Jesus into Chaos

Through the vast expanse of Scripture we see men and women following behind on the path that God is already treading. Often we see them living into the consequences of attempting to lead themselves, or struggling when God’s path seems hard to see.

As I will be exploring in our Chrism services this week, most of us have lived in a background of stability. Most of my ministry has taken place with the backdrop – not for everyone of course, but for a significant majority – of the trappings of democratic capitalism and its outworking of material wealth and progress. Our normative experience, our modus operandi, is stability.

It’s safe to say that’s no longer our reality.

Whether it’s Covid-19, climate change, conflict, housing poverty, the onslaught on disinformation – we now find ourselves in what seems to be a normative position of uncertainty, maybe even sometimes, chaos. All of us like to be in control in some shape or form, but this is a season in which many of our illusions of control are being stripped away

And yet as followers of Jesus, we are called to live into whatever context we find ourselves.

The disciples reaction to the chaos of the Garden of Gethsemene is to go to sleep. It’s a natural reaction. Psychologically when faced with chaos we naturally shut down, or bury our heads in the sand in denial, or take refuge in Netflix or whatever escapist activity feels comfortable. Physiologically and psychologically we absolutely need to rest. But as followers of Jesus we can’t live in a state of denial.

If God is a sending God, always going ahead of us and inviting us to join, but the path is hard to see, how are we to know where God is going, and what our invitation to join in bringing hope and redemption really is?

I think in these situations we need to look back at what we do know of the reality of who God is. I think the first thing to remember is that from the very beginning of creation, as we read in Genesis, God has a demonstrably good track record of bringing order into darkness. When we can’t see the path ahead, we can trust that God’s Spirit hovers over the waters of chaos. Secondly, we can look at the great arc of Scripture, in which we see, again and again and again, that God never gives up on us, particularly when things are at their lowest. Persecution, exodus, exile, disaster – things that happen to us and situations that are the result of our own making – God’s love means that God keeps showing up and pulling us through.

And thirdly, we can look at the journey of Holy Week. When you enter a dark, unknown space, you need time to adjust. It takes all your courage to step into the dark, not knowing whether you’ll be on a sure footing, whether you’ll be able to get out, or whether a weta will fall on your hair. When the temple curtain is ripped in two, a space is opened into which we have never been before. We don’t know what’s on the other side. But we do know that Jesus has gone there first.

This is the reality of who God is. Trustworthy. True. Not asking us to go anywhere where God hasn’t already been. That invitation to step into the dark – that is ours to make.

As you journey through the Easter week may you feel that gentle invitation to take the next step, and the next one, and the next.

In Christ
+Justin