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Glory



 In April I began another pilgrimage: that of reading through the New Testament in Greek. It's slow going, what with me being such an abysmal Greek scholar and everything, but I love it. And, just as the slow procession across Spain, one small step at a time sees progress being made towards Santiago, so this morning, slowly, word by word, I traversed the great arc of the New Testament. Today I had reached  John 13,  part of that section in the fourth Gospel in which the author describes Jesus' commissioning of his apostles to act in his stead after he is gone. It's twelve men and a few  others in a largish room, and seems to take just long enough for a meal and a talk. And  I couldn't help thinking of my own, glorious ordination to the episcopate, a ceremony in a much larger room, involving far more people and a longer span of time. In my case there were a couple of hours of ceremonial actions. In the case of the apostles there was just one: Jesus stripped himself naked, picked up the accoutrements of a slave and washed the disciples' feet. The 12 Apostles, and the other disciples present, didn't themselves have to do or say or sign anything. They were asked to trust, however. 

In the course of that last supper Jesus spoke a lot about glory: his own glory, the glory of his Father, and the glory of the disciples who would follow him. And by "glory" he seemed to be speaking of something a lot different than our usual understanding of the word. It seems that, to Jesus, his glory would be revealed in inverse proportion to the esteem in which he was generally held by the world at large. Kenosis is a word meaning "self emptying"and it seems that the Glory of God is  defined by Kenosis. God is poured out in the original creation of the cosmos. Jesus reveals himself in his pouring out of himself for others. He invites us to participate in this glory by... you guessed it. Which is an invitation we generally decline in favour of a more congenial version of glory.We seek to do things in ever grander ways, but we can't escape the inverse relationship of outward show and inner significance.

Consider for a moment, about how, as an institution declines in existential importance, the ceremony surrounding that institution often increases.  Think of these examples:

1. Christmas. As the significance of the Christian faith declines in the West, Christmas has become ever more extravagant and expensive. So for that matter, has Easter. So for that matter have a couple of very minor festivals - St. Valentine's Day and Hallowe'en. The reverse kenosis principle is seen most clearly in Christmas, though, with the cost of gift giving, feasting and drinking putting families into financial difficulty well into the new year. I would guess that the families most likely to land themselves in these difficulties would be amongst the least likely to have any spiritual or religious motivation for celebrating the festival.

2. Weddings. As marriage has declined in importance as an institution, weddings have become ever grander and ever more expensive. Here is a picture of a wedding in the 18th Century; a time when marriage as an institution was crucial to the functioning of society:
Notice the simplicity of the occasion. The couple are decently dressed in clothes they would wear on other occasions. The ceremony is attended by family and friends but the celebration is comparatively brief and inexpensive. By comparison, the average cost of a New Zealand wedding is now around $35,000. Many weddings cost well in excess of $100,000. In all this haemorrhage of money from the nuptial couple, a tiny percentage is spent on the religious ceremony itself, of course. The amount spent on the wedding has no correlation to the longevity of the marriage. Sometimes I suspect exactly the opposite.

3. The British Royal Family. As the political power of the British monarchy ebbed away, the pomp and ceremony surrounding them increased. All the grand ceremonies we are most familiar with - the changing of the guard or the trooping of the colour, for example - arose comparatively late in the monarchy's history, and achieved their present grandeur only in Victorian times or even in the 20th Century.

4. Ordinations. As the social significance of the church in the West has declined and as the role of the clergy has declined within the churches themselves, the grandeur of ordinations has increased, particularly episcopal ordinations. Within the Anglican church, the rise of the Eucharist as a weekly event, and the increase, in most parishes, in the amount of decoration accepted as usual for the Eucharist has also paralleled the decline in importance of the clergy both within the church and within the larger community.

Jesus invites us into the glory which he shares with the Father. But by and large - perhaps because we misunderstand him, or perhaps because we understand perfectly well but are terrified, who can tell? -we decline and opt for an alternative of our own, ever grand designing.

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