Rest a while

Baal Shem Tov (1698 – 1760) was a legendry Hassidic spiritual leader.

One day a person came to him and said, “I think I’m losing my faith.”

“What makes you think that?” asked Baal Shem Tov.

“When I was young, God seemed very near to me. Now God seems distant.

“Such a distance is natural,” Baal Shem Tov replied.

“When children are young, we teach them to walk by standing beside them and holding their hand. As they grow, however, we gradually distance ourselves so they can walk to us. God has moved away from you, so that you might learn how to walk on your own towards God.”

Nikos Kazantzakis, the great Greek writer, tells a story of an elderly monk he once met on Mount Athos.

Kazantzakis, still young and full of curiosity, was questioning this monk and asked him: “Do you still wrestle with the devil?”

“No,” replied the old monk, “I used to, when I was younger, but now I’ve grown old and tired, and the devil has grown old and tired with me.”

“So,” Kazantzakis said, “your life is easy then? No more big struggles.”

“Oh, no!” replied the old man, “now it’s worse. Now I wrestle with God!”

“You wrestle with God,” replied Kazantzakis, rather surprised, “and you hope to win?” “No,” said the old monk, “I wrestle with God, and I hope to lose!”

A wandering monk came to a village.

He was about to settle down under a tree for the night when a villager came running to him and said, ‘Give me the precious stone.’

‘What stone are you talking about?’ asked the monk.

‘Last night I had a dream’, said the villager, ‘that if I went to the outskirts of the village at dusk, I would find a monk who would give me a precious stone that would make me rich forever.’

The monk rummaged in his sack, found a stone and took it out. ‘This is probably the stone you are talking about,’ he said, as he handed it to the villager. ‘I found it in the forest a few days ago. You are welcome to it.’

The villager took the stone and gazed at it in wonder. It was a beautifully red ruby, the largest he had ever seen.

He took it home with him.

All night he tossed about in his bed, unable to sleep.

Early next day he went back to the outskirts of the village and found the monk.

He said to him, ‘During the night I was unable to sleep, and I have done a lot of thinking. You can have the precious stone back.

Instead, give me the kind of wealth that makes it possible for you to give this ruby away so easily.’

The richer a person’s inner life is, the simpler becomes their outer life – the less they need or want.

Our Second Reading is an extract from the letter of St. Paul to a gentleman named Philemon.

The letter takes up no more than a page in the Bible I use.

Philemon was a first-century Christian and a slave owner who also hosted a church in his home, most likely in Colossae.

His name means “affectionate” in Greek, and, from all we know about Philemon, he lived up to his name.

Paul had led Philemon to faith on one of his visits to Asia Minor and had stayed in Philemon’s home when in that region.

The book of Philemon is a personal letter from the apostle Paul to his friend Philemon whom he calls a “dear friend and fellow worker” 

Paul appeals to his friend on behalf of a runaway slave named Onesimus.

Onesimus had somehow connected with Paul, who was imprisoned in Rome. Onesimus became a believer, but, because he was the property of Philemon, Paul sent him back to his owner with a letter.

The fact that Philemon owns a slave tells us that he is a person of means. The word we might use today is ‘affluent’. There is a realisation that persons of means are not excluded from hearing God’s Word and believing.

The relationship between Paul and Philemon is clearly warm and respectful.

While Paul never criticises Philemon for owning slaves, he gently reminds him that Onesimus is now a brother in Christ and that truth should now define the relationship.

It is quite probable that Philemon freed his returned slave, as he heeded Paul’s instruction that, under the covenant of grace, both master and slave have equal standing in the body of Christ.

Once upon a time, a very rich but miserly man went to his rabbi and asked for his blessing.

The rabbi greeted him in a friendly manner and brought him into his living room.

Then he led the man to the window which looked out onto the street and said, ‘look out there and tell me what you see.’

‘I see people walking about,’ the rich man answered.

Then the rabbi took him away from the window and having placed a large mirror before him said, ‘look into the mirror and tell me what you see.’

‘I see myself,’ the man answered.

‘Now, my friend, let me explain the meaning of this to you.

The window is made of glass, as also is the mirror.

However, the glass of the mirror has a veneer of silver on it.

When you look through plain glass you see people.

But when you cover it with silver you stop seeing others and see only yourself.

When you are concerned only with money, you stop seeing others and see only yourself.’