This has been an auspicious weekend.  Christianity celebrated its annual sacred triduum of three days when it remembers the last days of Jesus, his death and resurrection. Judaism was in the middle of keeping the eight days of the feast of Passover and Islam was halfway through its annual fast of Ramadan. Friday, which was Good Friday for Christians. was the international day for remembering the Rwandan massacre and Easter Sunday was the anniversary of the signing of Pope John XXIII’s last encyclical, Pacem in Terris, Peace on Earth. There was a lot of spiritual energy and maybe even a bit of religious testosterone around.

Both Christianity and Judaism remember their foundational stories at this time. For Judaism this story is the liberation of the Israelites from the slavery of Egypt when God freed them and brought them eventually into that land promised to Abraham and his descendents.  This liberation revealed God as a saviour and deliverer, a God who is faithful to his choices and promises. But this liberation came at a cost – the cost of the lives of the Egyptian army that tried to stop the Israelites escaping. A friend who taught Judaism once said that the liberation of the people of Israel from Egypt was gained at the cost of ethnic cleansing. While it might not have been as extreme as that it seems, according to the account in the bible, to have led to the death of the Egyptian army that followed the Israelites and tried to stop them at the Red Sea – and no doubt the disaster influenced the economy of Egypt. The story is told each Passover in the context of a ritualised meal, not as something that happened in the past but as something that is a continuing reality, an eternal present so to speak that binds people again to their membership of the Chosen People of Israel.

For Christianity this story is also a foundation story but that story of the liberation from Egypt is now expanded and extended to a personal and spiritual liberation from sin which offers the possibility of living a life of love and service of others. This liberation too comes at a cost – the death of Jesus of Nazareth, a charismatic Jew who while faithful to the Torah encouraged a heartfelt and inner response to it rather than an intellectual or legalistic one.  This approach brought him into conflict with the political and religious leaders of his time and eventually led to his death by crucifixion and then to his resurrection. Christians retell this story at their celebration of Easter but do so interpreting it and trying to make theological sense of it. The interpretation that has come to be expressed in the official liturgies of the church is that God freed humanity from a state of sinfulness but at a cost – and that cost expressed in terms of a ransom was the death of Jesus.

Both these stories can be and are for many people a source of spiritual inspiration, hope and renewed commitment. But they can also have a dark side which can lead to conflict and violence. The belief that the Jewish people have been brought by God into a land promised to them raises questions about the people who were in that land before them. This was the case in the past as the story of the history of Israel shows them conquering and being conquered, being ruled by foreign powers such as Rome, being sent into exile, the second of which lasted for centuries and was only ended with the establishment of the State of Israel. This is a good thing, and I am supportive of a homeland for the Jewish people, but it does demand some resolution of how the present-day people of Israel, can live in peace with those who also consider the land theirs.  Unfortunately, at this moment when the festival of Passover coincides with Ramadan there has been a lot of violence between Israelis and Palestinians, particularly in East Jerusalem at the Western Wall of the Temple and the Al Aqsa Mosque which stands on the Temple Mount. Both are places of pilgrimage for their respective faiths. The Western Wall is the holiest site in Judaism and the Mosque the third holiest place in Islam. The scenes of violence reported and seen on our television screens are so painful. They make a mockery of what our religions claim to be, especially those beliefs that claim peaceful co-existence and harmony.

In the past Christianity was caught up in its own violence at this time. In medieval times Christians attacked Jews because they held them responsible for the death of Jesus and accused them of deicide. The history of Christian antisemitism is something that we Christians are ashamed of, and many denominations have repented of it. As we listen to the scriptures and hear again the story of Jesus’ death, we must remind ourselves that Jesus was a faithful Jew, put to death as a common criminal because he upset the political and religious authorities of his day but not by most Jews of the time, many of whom were his faithful followers and certainly not the Jews of today.
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It is easy for religions to celebrate significant festivals with blinkers on and not remember that there is a wider and perhaps greater reality. Remembering the massacre in Rwanda, with the evidence of how far we humans can sink in our hatred of others, and Pope John XXIII’s encyclical which calls us to work for peace could be a motivation this year for us to interpret our foundational stories and religious practices in a way that leads to the inclusion and  benefit of all people.   

Religion and its place in society has been up for discussion these last two weeks after one of the candidates hoping to be elected First Minister of Scotland admitted that she was not in favour of same-sex marriage, the birth of children outside of marriage and abortion. She has faced a rash of criticism and much antagonistic questioning of her position by political commentators and journalists who suggest she is unfit for public office, particularly that of First Minister and is against the liberalising agenda being promoted by the government and party of which she is a member. She has affirmed her commitment to following the law and would not let her personal views interfere with that.  For some this hostility is seen as misogyny (especially as one of the other candidates is a Muslim and likely to have similar views but not undergone similar scrutiny), or religious intolerance or a kind of liberal totalitarianism that demands everyone accepts the prevailing view. Even for those of us who are not in public office there can be a tension between a personal morality and what is best for society. Many Christians I know would be against abortion and see it as wrong yet accept abortion legislation for the sake of the safety of women who otherwise might seeks back street abortions which often led to the death of those seeking to terminate their pregnancy, often because of poverty, poor housing, and large families.

In a sense I think the Christian churches that have been so dominant in society until recently are still feeling their way as to how they should communicate with the secular. It’s no longer enough, I think, to repeat Christian morals without dialogue about what is best for society and why we hold the views that we do. Religious people need a new language to communicate with a secular world in a meaningful and relevant way. Jonathan Sacks was particularly good at this. He knew how to share religious ideas and translate them into a language that was accessible to those who were not of his faith. Not only is this approach important for society but it is also important for religion. Religious beliefs and morals have developed over the years and been influenced by the times and cultures in which they were articulated.  It’s important for religions not to get stuck in the past but to constantly dialogue with contemporary culture, including science, psychology, sociology etc and to reflect on how their faith might relate to the present. It’s this that keeps faiths fresh, innovative, and relevant. 

It’s easy to think of religion and society as being in opposition, especially over moral issues, doing battle for what they think is best.  Perhaps it’s important to keep in mind that all of us – or at least those of goodwill – are wanting what is best for society and if we are to achieve that then there is a need for dialogue and engagement, listening to one another and considering one another’s point of view. This of course takes time, something that public bodies and politicians are not good at. But Jonathan Sacks was good at it, and we could all learn from him. In a tribute to him after his death in 2020 Rabbi Gideon Sylvester said “Rabbi Sacks searched the modern marketplaces to uncover how people think and speak. His sensitive listening enabled him to create discourse around morality which his audience could relate to without ever feeling that they were being preached at, patronised or missionised.”
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An alternative to this engagement and sensitivity to society at large is to withdraw from it and live in a sheltered community cut off from interest in and discourse with the world. Religions have been doing this for centuries. It’s how religious life started with the withdrawal of men and women from the empire to focus on faith and spirituality in the Egyptian desert. When I joined religious life there was a sense of leaving the world to live a truer and more spiritual life. It happened to groups such as the Puritans, the Amish, the Mennonites who sought freedom from the state church of Europe and established communities and churches of their own with a strict but peaceful and simple way of living. It so happened that the Mennonites were on my mind as the debate about religion and society was going on.  I had recently seen the film ‘Women Talking’ based on the book of the same name by Miriam Toews and was reading another book by her called ‘A Complicated Kindness’. Both deal with situations within the Mennonite community and show the harm that rigidity, isolation, conformism can do to a community and to personal development.  This is not the way forward for religions. Religions like other aspects of life are evolving which will mean struggling with new situations and viewpoints but also offering something, hopefully wisdom, to the evolution of society as we try to learn what it means to live with one another and form the bonds of kinship that will help us work together for the common good.  

 Today is the feast of the Epiphany when Christians reflect on that episode in the Christmas story that tells of wise men coming to visit the stable in Bethlehem and bringing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh to the infant Jesus - 3 regal gifts that have led to the interpretation that they were 3 kings though this is not stated in the story as set out in the gospel of Matthew. At least that’s the case in the western Church for Eastern Orthodox Christians the 7th of January is a celebration of the birth of Jesus with Epiphany being celebrated 12 days after on the 19th of January which should give us a clue that the date is not to be taken literally.

I always feel a bit sorry for these wise men as there is, for me anyway, a feeling that Christmas is over by the time we’re hearing their story. I have a nativity set at home (made from recycled paper), which I display over Christmas – it has a figure of Mary with child Joseph, an angel and three kings who are positioned at the side of the main characters as though on a journey but since my nativity set is put away with the Christmas decorations the wise men never arrive. We do hear of them of course in some of the Christmas carols that are sung over the season, and they have certainly taken hold of the Christian imagination that sometimes depicts them as kings and imagines three of them though that’s not stated in scripture. We know very little about them but as with all scripture the point is not so much what is said about them but what their significance is in the Christmas story and what message this might have for us.

The symbolism of the story of the wise men can only really be appreciated in what we know about the life and death of Jesus and the impact he had after his death. It takes us away from any sentimental devotion to Christmas being about baby Jesus but rather reminds us of who and what Jesus is within the Christian tradition. The men from the east remind us that though Jesus was Jewish, his message came to have a universal appeal and took devotion to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob beyond the bounds of Judaism into a gentile world.  The gift of myrrh, a resin uses in embalmment is a recognition of his death, the gold a recognition of his kingship and lordship over all and the frankincense a recognition of his divinity. This is the Jesus who is celebrated at Christmas.

Two elements of the story are interesting and worth reflecting on – the star that was the inspiration for the wise men setting out and the journey to find what they were searching for. All of us are on a journey, a journey that will have its ups and downs, its light and shadow, its obstacles and advantages, its helpers and hinderers, all made worthwhile by the sense of purpose and meaning we bring to it.  Religion has traditionally seen itself as giving this sense of purpose, offering its adherents a practice and way of life that makes the journey meaningful. It offers a final reward, which either in a paradise or heaven or as an escape from the round of rebirth is realised beyond this human existence. There are of course other goals such as working to promote the kingdom of God or the kingdom of Shambhala, as some Buddhists would say, to serve others, make our world a more just and equitable place to live.  

Perhaps we all have our own stars that lead us forward and give some direction to our lives and some may be less noble than others. What is it we want to achieve in life – riches, happiness, health, a long life, power, my way of doing things? Religions I like to think offer a noble direction in that all of them have something to say about love, compassion, wisdom, justice as a way of living. But what about those who have no religion? Here in Britain the results of the recent census reveal that for the first time there are more people who see themselves as nonreligious. What is the story they live by, what is the journey they are on, what is the star that guides them?  Some religious people decry this move to and shake their heads at the thought of a world without meaning and spirituality. But surely this cannot be so. Just because people no longer affiliate with a religion does not mean that their lives are selfish or lacking in love and concern for others. It does not mean they do not have a philosophy by which they live their lives. It might mean that the religious story no longer makes sense to them, and religious people might just have to accept that without judging them. Perhaps we need a new story which unites us all, religious and non-religious.
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I think there is such a story and it’s one that I have become increasingly interested in. It’s the story of the universe which is also the story of humanity. We now know that out of the mysterious order of reality, from which burst forth a great fireball of creativity, evermore complex forms evolved until we humans were given form at this point in history – the “most recent and youngest extravagance of this stupendously creative universe” as the cosmologies Brian Swimme describes us. Each of us carries within us the whole history of evolution. We are made not just of the dust of the earth but of star dust itself. We are empty of any discrete separate existence but are interrelated and interconnected with all of life – our life is one of interbeing as Thich Nhat Hanh would say.  And as such we have great potential for the future of our world and our race.  We can help it achieve love, harmony and peace or we can undermine it. I do believe that if we talked more about this common story that unites us all we would have a star to guide us towards the fullness of life and inspire us on how to live and cope with our journey through life whether we be religious or not. I also think that religions, particularly my own, would be made more relevant by taking this universe story seriously and reflecting on its articles of faith in the light of this story. It’s a story that gives hope not just to our world but also to our religions. We need more of it.