Vale Murray Brown
I attended the funeral of Murray Brown last week; he was a good friend over many years. Listening to his story and seeing the hundreds of people present, caused me to reflect on death, hope and the Kingdom of God.
About twenty years ago we used to meet weekly to discuss a range of things. We almost always seemed to end up discussing theology; we were both Anglicans, but from differing parts of the Anglican theological spectrum. Our greatest point of divergence was our views of the significance of the atonement and this led to some lively debates.
In reference to what happens after death, I can only guess. If we knew what to expect, if we could say with any certainty that we were going to a ‘better place’, then death would not be such an important part of our human journey in relationship with God.
I understand that God is consistent, fair and unconditionally loving. Based on this hope, and based on a belief that God is responsible for humanity, I hope for the parousia, that is a Christo-centric an eschatology.
In my life I seem to relate to God in ways where there is much running in circles; alternately ignoring, praying, rebelling, surrendering, hating, and loving.
When I am remote from God, I am unloving, or fearful toward myself and others. Perhaps, during those times, I am in ’sin’. By answering to the fearful side of myself, I hurt myself and others. I experience absence, loneliness, and probably the taste of ‘Hell’.
Then there are those times when I find myself able to move lovingly toward myself and others. I am able to be unafraid, generous, loving, real, and caring. Then I am answering the call of grace. In those times, I believe I can experience true community, God, and perhaps a taste of ‘Heaven’.
Hope is different from optimism. Optimism fails to acknowledge the human experience. Life is hard, good people suffer and die. Bad things do happen to good people. Hope acknowledges these things, but it also takes the stance that the future holds more good than bad. It believes in the possibility of a desired outcome and then it actively works toward that outcome. Hope in Christian theology follows the historical progression from the early Hebrew prophets through to a Christian understanding of eschatology in relation to everyday life.
The Hebrew understanding of God, was the God of the covenant, a God who makes and keeps promises. God was powerful enough to enter into history and alter political and social events. The covenantal promise - I will be your God and you will be my people - led to a hope in God intervening in their own history, creating a time of prosperity and peace.
This was expressed in the stories of Abraham and Moses, both of which express a new kind of hope in God. In both stories, the time between the covenant and its fulfillment is many years. Both stories depict a God who makes personal promises and is true to His word.
This is the key to understanding the thinking and teaching of Jesus of Nazareth and the early Christian church. Christian theology is ultimately connected with God’s covenant alongside the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. These events form the foundational structure of Christian eschatology, the Kingdom of God.
Christianity teaches about a grace-filled present, as well as an eschatological future based on metanoia; which is usually interpreted to mean repentance. The ‘resurrection’ of Jesus is a new and different way of being in relationship with God. It carries a promise - not that people will not suffer or die, but that God is with them in this.
The late Jim Punton spoke of Christ’s mission being about creating shalom - complete well-being of body, mind, spirit, community, economically, politically - the whole of life and he liked to quote Jeremiah:
"Seek the shalom of the city where I have sent you … and pray to the Lord on its behalf; for in its shalom you will find your own shalom."
I wonder what Murray would think of my theology now?
As a post script; I would venture to say there is no way around grief and loss. Sooner or later you have to face it and then your world will never be the same as again. The death of my brother, Geoff, in 1985 was the beginning for me and it has taken me down many dark roads.
