Paul wasn’t the only Christian jail bird

If you Google ‘Paul in prison’ and check out the images you’ll see a host of inspired artwork of a pensive, well groomed man, frequently gripping a quill as he stares off into the distance recalling stories which he then presumably scribes for you and I to read in our Bibles today. You’ll also find colouring book pages for those of us with less artistic prowess to indulge our creativity. I wonder if it was really like that.

Rembrandt's Idealistically Imprisoned Paul

My thinking about Paul was spurred by my husband’s arrest a couple weeks ago for supporting striking public sector workers in London, merely with the intention of distributing tea and biscuits. As Christ-followers involved in the activist scene locally, we have friends from both spheres who have supported us via text messages, emails and social media in this time. Rob’s activist friends who have a great deal more familiarity with the process of being arrested, either having been there themselves or having supported others before were unflinching in their ability to provide information and ensure that we were well looked after.

Our Christian friends, while very good at sending message of support and offering prayer were not so great at offering practical help. I hope that this experience of ours will serve to enlighten our Christ-following friends in ways that they can help out in a more hands-on way where possible, but that’s for another day and another post.

Along with offers for prayer we were overwhelmed with statements comparing Rob’s arrest and 12ish hours in jail to the apostle Paul who was also imprisoned and wrote much of the New Testament letters during that time. I wondered why with every new message sent comparing Rob to Paul I went from shaking my head in good humour, knowing that this was an example of Christians taking experiences totally out of context, to becoming increasingly frustrated with the comparison. I just couldn’t put my finger on why I was so annoyed as I know that every person who sent such a message did so intending to give encouragement and identify with the experience in possibly the only way they knew to do so.

We escaped to the seaside the weekend after the ordeal and sat on the beach talking about why I felt so miffed. As we talked on, I realised that my issue with this comparison stemmed from the fact that Rob was arrested with 36 other people also doing good in their community. Maybe they weren’t doing it as an act of love for their neighbour explicitly following Christ’s example, but nevertheless they were doing it equally. It seems like a real double standard to select the Christian for a biased pat on the back, neglecting the others who were unjustly repaid for the same good deeds.

This is one of the real problems we’ve got with the church right now- the near inability to see or acknowledge Jesus values that are embedded all around us. Perhaps if we did so others would feel a closer kinship with Jesus rather than an increasing sense of alienation.

I also realised that this is a great example of an unhealthy tendency I’ve seen the church charged with before – the tendency to align itself more with Paul than with Christ. Listen to Christians in Bible conversation and you’ll probably hear more reference to Paul than Jesus. We spend more time studying his letters than the gospels and life of Christ. I wonder why people felt compelled to compare Rob’s arrest to Paul instead of Jesus who also was imprisoned without cause. Who exactly are we following? A guy who, I have to be honest, at face value seems like a real sexist jerk sometimes* or a guy who we confess to believing lived a perfect life?

Not to seem thankless to those who have offered their support and been inspired by a fellow Christ follower who ended up charged with violence by following Jesus’ call to love his neighbour. Just to challenge and provoke thought.

* When I first started reading the Bible for real I actually crossed through some of what Paul said about women because it infuriated me. I could think of several things to call him before ‘apostle’. Having studied a bit more and getting a cultural context for what he said and looking into the way things were badly translated I know that he has been misquoted in most of our translations and isn’t such a bad guy after all and actually quite pro-women. But I have real empathy for anyone reading the Bible without this understanding.

Liberation

- Lila Watson | ABORIGINAL ACTIVISTS GROUP, QUEENSLAND, 1970s
Poster by Ricardo (http://www.freewebs.com/edchx/)

"Eat Me." – Jesus Christ

I remember the first time I felt truly guilty during communion. It wasn’t because I’d done something terrible the night before or anything like that… it was simply because this bread tasted so amazing! I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to enjoy communion like that or not. After all, isn’t it supposed to be bland, ritualistic, and holy (by holy I mean punishing)?

My views on communion have really changed since that experience. I think they change about every time I take communion outside of my traditional communion type experience. The last time I recall taking communion at The Bridge we had a large loaf of crusty bread and not a lot of people to distribute it between and I was the first person to get up for my dose. I tore off a massive piece of bread and went back to my seat and spent the next 5 minutes or better eating, chewing, thinking, praying, letting it really get into my heart and changing me. I loved looking at my friends and watching them eat slowly, knowing we were all taking the same sort of journey at the same moment. It just isn’t an experience you can replicate with a small wafer identical in size and shape to a person across a large sanctuary from you.

Communion is not just about sacrifice as I was led to believe from childhood. It’s not just about recalling how horrible you are, how in need of a saviour (which is perfectly true) because you’re rubbish on your own. That kind of stuff really keeps you joined to your past actions and sins even though they’ve been forgotten by God. I’d always have to sift through my day and week to see how naughty I’d been so I could ask forgiveness. And eating that bread and drinking some cheap grape juice never made me feel any better afterwards. It was a futile exercise and it robbed me of the true experience of communion.

Communion is about identity. Identity with Christ and His life and death and resurrection. Identity with His spirit. It’s also about identity with the church, the body of Christ. It’s not a remote and individualistic practice that absolves a person of their personal sins. It knits us together in amazing ways as we all see each other through the eyes of love and sacrifice- things Christ wasn’t called to alone- things that we are each called to on one another’s behalf.

Rob wanted to take communion the other day before a meeting we had. We didn’t have much in the house and we’ve used lots of different things for communion before so just finding something edible and drinkable wasn’t foreign to us. He grabbed a Bourbon biscuit and some water. As we sat and thought about what it was we were doing I realised something- communion is costly. I know exactly what you’re probably thinking right now- “yeah it cost Jesus a heck of a lot, didn’t it?” That’s not really what I mean even if it is true. We all know that and it doesn’t always mean a lot to be truthful; it’s like a cliche (sorry God…).

I was reminded of the little boy who offered his loaves and fish for feeding the crowd. He gave up his lunch! He was so trusting that somehow Jesus would make it work out so that everyone got to enjoy a bit of food that he risked losing it all. On the day that Jesus and the disciples took the last supper the owner of the upper room sacrificed some space for the crew to cook up a mean meal (he practiced hospitality, a subject I’m really getting into and it actually ties into this quite well- note to self: revisit). I seriously doubt they went down to the market to pick up a ready-meal so that means that this meal was quite the effort and was costly (in terms of time, not just money).

So they finally get to the point where Jesus grabs the loaf of bread, err the flatbread as it would’ve been, and does his thing. That bread is the very symbol we refer back to when doing communion. I think about the breads I’ve used in communion- ranging from stale wafers to pretzels to amazingly tasty bread- and yet it’s never cost either myself or the person serving the bread much (a quick dash into the shop to pick up some cheap mass produced bread). Something’s been lost. I have come to realise a couple things in dealing with communion in this:-

1- Jesus picked the most basic and affordable things on the table to institute communion so that everyone regardless of economic status could enjoy the practice. It unites us all across class boundaries and it’s a humbling thing perhaps for the more affluent to get back to the basics. How beautiful. How thoughtful.

2- The bread itself cost something in terms of time and effort to make it (even if they did buy it at the market). Someone had to knead it, mix it, bake it, etc. No modern technology. I’m sure that modern communion wafers are probably somehow blessed by a few reverential words but just the effort of someone getting involved with the bread is a blessing to me.

I’d really like to adopt the practice of baking bread as a community to enjoy together in communion. The imagery of that would be so incredibly rich. And how much more sacred would it be?