Knox Church

A worshipping and reconciling community centred on Jesus Christ, where ALL are welcome.

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Some Questions for Pentecost Sunday 27 May 2012

Readings: Genesis 1:1-4a; Acts 2:1-21

This morning’s sermon is a little different – it’s more a number of questions which invite your reflection. And, the basic question comes from the song we have just sung – “Spirit of Gentleness, stir me from placidness”.  There’s another Pentecost song, we sometimes sing - from the Iona Community, called “Enemy of Apathy” – which challenges us with the same question:    From what placidness – from what apathy – is the Spirit calling you, today, here and now?

We’ve worn the red – we’ve waved the banner – we’ve called on the Spirit – and lit the candles.  We’ve heard how the Spirit seeks us out providing friendship, love and freedom; we’ve listened again to the ancient story of people from many different backgrounds, many different countries, many different languages, being caught up by the Spirit into an experience which took them way out of their comfort zone – into a place of wild freedom and intoxicating joy - a place of possibility they couldn’t even have begun to imagine – but a place which led to the formation of what we know as the church – a source of energy, hope, joy and love, which has sustained many many people for two thousand years.   Placidness becoming power, apathy becoming action…

Where do we sit in relation to all that?  (It doesn’t sound very Presbyterian, does it?!) Do we remain observers of an ancient tradition, content to allow others the fire, whilst their ashes sift through our placid fingers; or are we excited and challenged to be active participants in the ongoing story?  Will we join this restless dance with the Spirit; or will we remain in our worldly apathy?  Put another way: has this year’s Easter journey made a difference in our lives?   Have we caught the resurrection moments:  the expressions of love which have surprised us once more; the renewed commitment to be vibrant, enlivening Jesus-followers, who burn for justice and peace?  Did we walk that Easter journey these past seven weeks, tip-toeing through the ashes of death, or with eyes wide open to enlivening new possibilities for ourselves, other people and the whole creation?

Today, as we celebrate the gift of the Spirit, does the early church story fire our imagination so that we become the flames of love and tongues of forgiveness in our world?  And, if, as I do so hope, we have been enlivened, what does this mean for our ongoing lives – at home, at church, at school, at work:  how are we going to live out our lives, this afternoon, tomorrow and into the weeks ahead in Spirited-restlessness? 

What would our world look like tomorrow, if we lived in the awareness of the Pentecost Spirit alive in our midst – if we allowed the Holy Spirit to confound our expectations – to slip beyond our restrictive ideas – to open doors where each person’s single-languaged narrow experience might be shared and understood by the whole world?

Can we live into this imaginative space?
-          where Maori, Pakeha and more recent comers to this land - where Asian, African, American and European – all listen with deep curiosity to hear each other’s voices
-          where philosophers, scientists and historians; Pro-lifers; euthanasia and abortion advocates; National, Labour and Green supporters speak their deepest truth, acknowledging they have only one part of the picture
-          where people of all religions (and especially Christians, Muslims and Jews) acknowledge the Divine Oneness in which we all dwell – holding the basic assumption that this Oneness is on the side of all Creation – that nobody and nothing is against them
Can we live into this Pentecost space? 
-          turning away from fear of the other who speaks a different language, has a different story; walking the path of risky vulnerability to each other, accepting responsibility for living the radical way of non-violence, forgiveness and love?

E te whanau, the Spirit of Pentecost is alive today – its wind and fire can shake us to the core.  The Spirit dares us to leave behind the ashes of our apathy and placidness – it calls us to enter the dance of full and abundant life.  Shall we dance?

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Sermon for Presbyterian Support Sunday - Rev. Dennis Povey Guest Preacher


Sunday May 20:  Guest Preacher Rev. Dennis Povey
Readings: Acts 1:15-17, 21-26; John 17:6-19


John’s Gospel is nowhere more eloquent and more difficult to understand that in this high priestly prayer Jesus prays before his death.
I can’t begin to unravel the complexities of all the verses in our reading this morning. John is deep and dense full of meaning at many levels.
Presbyterian Support Otago is grateful for this opportunity to share with you this morning some of thoughts that gives its work meaning at many levels.
“May they be one even as the Father and The Son are one” was taken as the prayer that inspired Christian communities in the 20th century to heal their own divisions.  Bans barriers and prejudices were to be removed. Some barriers fell. Others remain.
There are new divisions developing within our own nation for which we should pray – ‘may we be one.”
In his 2009 book Justice, the Harvard professor of philosophy Michael Sandel writes that while politicians have largely ignored inequality, philosophers have been debating the just distribution of income and wealth since the 1970s.
He argues an important reason to worry about inequality is that "too great a gap between rich and poor undermines the solidarity that democratic citizenship requires".
As inequality deepens, "rich and poor live increasingly separate lives".
The affluent send their children to private schools (or to public schools in wealthy suburbs), leaving other public schools to the children of families who have no alternative.
A similar trend leads to the secession by the privileged from other public institutions and facilities.
Private gyms replace council recreation centres and swimming pools.
Upscale residential communities hire private security guards and rely less on public police protection.
A second or third car removes the need to rely on public transportation. And so on. The affluent secede from public places and services, leaving them to those who can't afford anything else.
This has two bad effects, writes Sandel. "First, public services deteriorate, as those who no longer use those services become less willing to support them with their taxes.  Second, public institutions such as schools, parks, playgrounds, and community centres cease to be places where citizens from different walks of life encounter one another. This is the challenge we want to take up!
Why does economic inequality matter?  He asks.
“It's our increasing distance from one another – not just financially but as human beings.”
It’s almost as if we live in different worlds.
This would be reason enough for concerned citizens and social service agencies like Presbyterian Support to speak out; the very principles of social justice include equality, tolerance, compassion, fairness and democratic participation. 
Surely this prayer of Jesus Christ proclaims a vision of who we are and can be that urges closeness and openness not distance and separation between his sons and daughters and his disciples.
“May they be one even as the Father and The Son are one”.
 Every day we see young people, families and older people for whom these increasing distances and isolation of rich and poor are having soul destroying consequences.
We do what you enable us to do to build bridges.
We also try to speak across the divides.
We don’t expect that governments of any shade will see things our way. Governments increasingly in New Zealand move in their own hermetic circles influenced by the economic theories that don’t distribute the light at the end of the tunnel fairly.
The other aspect of the prayer that often puzzles me is around the phrases that somehow seem to say that we must be in the world “ I do not pray that they be taken out of the world” but that we may move e safely in it.
The paraphrase of this is that we must be in the world but not of it. 
It’s a good catchy phrase for Christians but darn difficult to follow. It’s like dancing along an invisible line that keeps shifting under our feet.
Recently Gillian Bremner attended A conference run by the New Zealand Council of social Services.  There was a very strong line up of Government speakers including the Ministers of Finance, Bill English and the Minister of Social Development, Paula Bennet.
They paid the Cristian social services organisations the complement of laying out the new rules for the so called partnerships between Government and Christian Social service sector of voluntary and non-government organisations – as Governments like to call us. – Somewhat disempowering that – calling us what we’re not.
It’s a fine line we walk.
Governments need us to do the work that’s too difficult or not sufficiently politically rewarding enough. So they are prepared to pay for that work.
But – Government speakers say social service organisations will have to amalgamate, get smarter and tender competitively for Government contracts.
Payment will be made on results. Quick results.  The focus will be on things that can be measured. There will be high trust between government and chosen social service providers.
If that means we have to light on our feet and sure of what we’re doing so be it.  If it means we will have to stop doing some things that are important to the excluded minority then that’s a question only we can answer.
By we I mean you and I.
Let’s look at two areas of our work where being in the world but not of it requires some faithful conviction, and spectacular line dancing.
Youthgrow – our horticultural project for young people has had to change its intakes to continue receiving Government funding.  It’s a project of youth employment that helps unemployed young people learn general work skills with a focus on plants.
It’s success rate is well established and recognised.  The Secondary principals association and Government have offered funding if an intake of non-attending youth is added to the mix.
They are a disaffected resistant, isolated and hurt group.  Finding ways to relate to them has required some special people, monumental patience and belief.
One of these special people was a young man – himself a product of Youthgrow who developed a special talent for building relationships of trust with the school intake.
Yes they could be found fishing at the heads some days, talking, learning stuff no class room could teach them. “They knew it all anyway.”
Tough task taking on these valuable young people and turning them round – going into their world, reaching across the distance and resistance with friendship and love without becoming subverted either by Government requirements or the youth culture itself. Line dancing.
It may be my age, but many of you will know that I have become increasingly involved in questions of housing choices for older people.
We moved house this week and as I thanked the same removalist who shifted us from First Church to Ravensbourne 11 years ago I said “I’m sorry Dennis – his name too – but I won’t be using you for my next shift.” A startled look until I said – “ I expect to be employing Hope and sons for that one.”
He offered some cardboard boxes and one of his smaller vans as a cheaper option.
Whether it’s our last move or not is not for me to know.
What we do know is that by 2031 – Dunedin will be 2% of the population of Aotearoa New Zealand. People over 65 in Dunedin will be 20% of 2%. 
In the past government funding has boosted what local communities have done to provide accommodation for the old. Both those who needed special care and those who don’t.
Listening to the priorities of the Social Housing Unit and reading the report on Social Housing commissioned by the DCC it’s clear to the planners at Presbyterian Support Otago that there’s going to have to be some new steps to the dance thought out.
Big business is now picking out those who can afford to live in retirement communities. 
They are the income rich people who can afford the weekly outgoings of over $300 a week as well as their capital contributions.
But what about the rest.  The DCC report suggests 800 new retirement housing options of all kinds will be required in Dunedin if people are to age in place and be included in the communities where they belong.
We’ll need some clever Dunedin solutions not primarily motivated by commercial gain. Presbyterian Support Otago has begun to do its thinking. We are just a small player but an important one in find the way forward. We’ll need partnerships with people of modest means to have successful connected retirement living into their late eighties and nineties.
We’ve all got to be praying as Christ prayed – not to be taken out of the world and the important issues for young and old, - not to be safe in affluent isolation – but to be sent.
Please pray for Presbyterian Support Otago, please continue to serve on our board and as our staff. Please volunteer to assist at our Op shops, the Youthgrow stall and the many other voluntary opportunities our volunteer coordinator can suggest.
Please continue to see us and support us as we try to be in the world but not of it.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

A sermon for Easter 6,13 May 2012 - with thanks to Bruce Sanguin

Readings: Acts 10:44-4; John 15:9-17

As God has loved me – said Jesus – so I have loved you and now all you have to do is join this circle dance of love:  you love each other as I love you – as God loves me.  And then, you will experience deep, fulfilling joy beyond all imagining. 

It’s a wonderful ideal – but do we know the steps of this dance? 

Nightcliff Uniting Church in Australia[1] recently tried something that was very well received. Called “What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?” it was a time in the service when people talked about their lives in terms of their faith. What emerged through the series of short presentations from members of the congregation was the sense that people are showing love in their everyday lives – they are making a difference.  When people were given an opportunity to review their lives and reflect on their work and the other things they do, they were able to see their faith at work in the world and make connections between the love and friendship of God they experience and the love and friendship they share with others.  But how confident are we in making these connections?

Bruce Sanguin[2] a minister in the United Church of Canada and a leading teacher in the
Evolutionary Christian Spirituality movement reflects on
how little emphasis there has been in liberal Christian congregations on teaching people the core principles and practices necessary to ensure we know how to live this dance of love.  He notes that many congregations just don’t have the skills for loving relationship – and thus, far too often, churches end up being cultures of suffering rather than love.

In trying to address this situation, Sanguin proposes a set of eight principles, which congregations might consciously agree to – and then be offered regular opportunities to learn about and practise.  I offer you his principles this morning, inviting you to reflect on them – considering whether these would be worth committing to – or maybe whether there might be others, which we as a community could say ‘yes’ to learning about and regularly practising, as we seek to follow Jesus’ commandment to love each other as we are loved by the Divine Spirit of Love.

Sanguin’s first three principles are
·        Listening with deep curiosity
·        Being role models for everyone we meet
·        Speaking our deepest truth
 When we listen to each other, with deep curiosity, we want to understand how others are seeing and interpreting their world. We sincerely desire to see reality through the other’s eyes, and therefore risk the possibility of being changed by their perspective. We see this curiosity in Nicodemus, a religious authority figure, who came to learn from – not to instruct – the peasant rabbi, Jesus of Nazareth.    How often is our listening open or humble enough to hear the Divine Word in others? 
Being role models for every one we meet is the second principle.  The way we conduct ourselves in this community and within the larger community is a profound witness to what life in Christ looks like. Whether we like it or not, Christians are always on stage in the eyes of the world. You are the light of the world, the salt of the earth, Jesus taught.   Do we exhibit a quality of consciousness that provides light and salt for both our everyday lives and the difficult ethical decisions being made daily in our workplace and government?
In a community committed to love, we remember how Jesus was recognized for speaking with an inner authority rather than quoting other authorities.  Speaking our deepest truth is Sanguin’s principle which sums up that authority.  We endeavour in our conversations to be as transparent as we can about our deepest truth – always aware that this truth is not static, but continues to grow.  This principle is never to be used as a weapon to hurt others, but rather, taking full responsibility to manage our own feelings and impulses, we speak our truth in love,  In groups, we listen deeply for the emergence of fresh wisdom that arises specifically and congruently with each new context, rather than holding on to and telling our old nuggets.
The first steps of this dance invite us to be role models who listen curiously and speak their deepest truths.  The next three steps, or principles, bite more deeply into the counter-cultural nature of the Gospel and are challenging to any congregation. 
·        Constantly seeking resolution
·        Walking the path of vulnerability.
·        Assuming nobody and nothing is against us
First, constantly seeking resolution. Acknowledging that unresolved conflict saps life energy away from our commitment to evolve in love, we are committed to resolving conflict in non-violent ways as soon as we become aware of it: We refuse to draw others into the conflict through gossip. Rather we follow the gospel example of going to the person directly and if together we cannot reach resolution, seeking agreement with the other to turn to mediation. We ask for the grace to neither shame the other, play the victim or hide; and once resolution is reached, we sincerely seek the grace to forgive - that is, releasing any attachment we might have to the drama of conflict.
Walking the path of vulnerability.  With Jesus, we are willing to go the cross and die to all identities and identifications that keep us from growing in love, compassion and service. Rather than playing it safe, we look for opportunities that involve risk and which challenge us to grow. We accept new tasks, new behaviours and thought patterns that stretch us beyond our perceived limits. This principle takes us into the heart of what it means to be evolutionary Christians.  When our earliest evolutionary instincts get triggered, they compel us to defend ourselves against perceived threats. While this is healthy and natural, we also recognize that these instincts can over-function making us fearful, hypersensitive and over-vigilant. If we refuse to walk with Jesus at the risky edges, not allowing our self-awareness to develop, we will build our identity around our defence systems.  Transformation can only come as come to know and embrace our vulnerability.
Assuming nobody and nothing is against us
As people of faith, we do not make the assumption that the universe is aligned against us or even neutral. Rather it is for us. As the apostle Paul put it, “if G_d is for us, who can be against us?”  We may not be able to agree on who or what this G_d is – we may prefer to use other language  to evoke this horizon of our becoming – but what we do know from our tradition is that this Spirit of Love, this Godness, will not let us go.  We recall the story of how Jacob’s all-night wrestling encounter with a stranger may have wounded him for life, but far from signifying the absence of G_d, this wrestling match represented divine engagement. Even when life feels as though it is pitted against us, we look for the hidden presence of the divine – in things, places and people.  Our commitment to assume that nobody – and nothing – is against us runs quite counter to a world which otherizes, ostracises and excludes.
Which leads us to the final principles we might assume in learning this dance of love for our lives and our life in community.  
·        Living radical responsibility
·        Setting our mind on Christ
In living radical responsibility, we commit ourselves – body, mind and spirit – to the way, exemplified by Jesus, which calls us into compassionate, generous and positively responsive relationships with ourselves, each other, animals and plants, this Planet and the Cosmos – all held within the Divine Spirit of Love.  We do not abdicate this responsibility to other individuals or groups nor see radical responsibility as an optional extra.  We are empowered to bring forth the future that needs us, personally and collectively allowing and ensuring what Jesus called the Kin(g)dom of God to emerge.
We recognise in Sanguin’s final principle Setting our Mind on Christ Paul’s challenge to the Church at Philippi:  “let this mind be in you that was also in Christ Jesus”.  Setting our minds – our hearts – on Christ challenges us to abandon our earliest concerns for safety, security and status.  This is not an easy task, but as we practice self-abandonment we discover the sacramental nature of each and every moment, learning to read our lives, our community and our world with reverence.
As we learn to abandon self, surrendering moment by moment to the divine impulse, we are transformed so that our concerns become not for our own survival but rather with alleviating the suffering (both human and other than human) of our planet.   It is in this practice, in setting our minds on Christ, that we create the optimum culture for the evolving dance of Love to emerge.  
·        Listening with deep curiosity. 
·        Being role models for everyone we meet
·        Speaking our deepest truth
·        Constantly seeking resolution
·        Walking the path of vulnerability
·        Assuming nobody and nothing is against us
·        Living radical responsibility
·        Setting our mind on Christ

It’s in developing, exploring and  practising on a regular basis all of these principles – or ones like them – we will come to know what in God’s name we think we are doing.
I give the last word to contemporary Australian cartoonist, Michael Leunig, who puts it succinctly:  “'Love one another and you will be happy.' It's as simple and difficult as that.  There is no other way.”[3]  



[1] Quoted from Seasons of the Spirit material for Sunday 13 May, 2012
[2] This sermon is an edited version of Core Principles of Evolutionary Christian Culture, Bruce Sanguin, 3 April 2012 http://ifdarwinprayed.com/?s=Principles+of+Evolutionary+Culture
[3] When I talk to you Harper Collins (no date) last page

Saturday, May 5, 2012

A sermon for Fair Trade Sunday: Easter 5, 6 May 2012

Readings:  Acts 6:26-38; John 15:1-8

“Abide in me,” John has Jesus say, “as I abide in you. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit.”  I invite you this morning to consider how big our picture is of this abiding in Jesus; do we abide in a big enough picture to bring about Jesus’ life-giving vision of human flourishing – fruit in abundance?  Last Sunday evening, I talked about the image of Jesus as Shepherd – and how tempting it is to soften the edges of the picture, creating a cosy, cuddly, teddy bear image, losing sight of the harsh, risky reality that is the truth for those who follow Jesus. This morning I want to continue that theme by asking the question: do we abide in a big enough picture – or have we domesticated Jesus’ message to suit our particular comfort? 
At various times over the ages, both of this morning’s readings have been interpreted to reinforce closed down, arrogant, Christian elitism; but, both readings have also been used to explode awareness of God’s vision into a much bigger picture than any one of us could imagine.  I’m less convinced by interpretations that create certainty and superiority, leaving no space for Spirit to break through; I’m suspicious of interpretations which confine God to our limited perspectives; I’m much more persuaded by interpretations, which leave space for the Spirit to entice, challenge and lure us into places we would not comfortably go on our own, but which bring about fullness of life.  It’s into that risky, potentially-fruitful space that Philip steps in today’s resurrection story from Acts:  an angel, the spirit, the God-ness impulse, directs him to a road he might not choose to take, a wilderness road, a road in which he meets a stranger – a foreigner – a searcher after truth.  And here, out of his comfort zone, Philip is urged by the Spirit into conversation with someone from the very edge of the then known world, exploring together words of a prophet from an earlier generation.  The man in charge of the treasury of Ethiopia and the man inspired by the resurrection story reflect on the scriptures, which speak “against human suffering created by unjust systems imposed by the powerful and the wealthy” This prophetic word, this “God-intoxicated voice of protest” [1]  speaks into their present world – where the innocent continue to be led silent like sheep to be slaughtered or fleeced – in their humiliation, justice denied to them – their life taken from them.   And Philip, willing to dialogue, open to the spirit, sees the connections between past and recent injustices and can tell the story of Jesus, who experienced firsthand such abuse and yet, who taught a way of transformed living, which brings justice and joy to the poor and healing to the broken.  There, on the wilderness road, the possibility of life in its fullness is recognised and claimed:  the foreign Court Official is baptised; both men have been transformed.
Where are we being nudged by the Spirit, as we hear this story?  Do we have the courage, with Philip, to be lured by Spirit into a wilderness road, which might bear more fruit?  What different way of thinking might the Spirit be pointing us to, as we seek transformation – in our own lives and in the lives of the strangers we might encounter along the wilderness way?
I think Fair Trade Sunday might be a wilderness way for some of us.  Issues of justice - and especially economics and trade - get disturbingly close to politics (and we all know that politics and religion don’t mix!)  Our discomfort can be so great we sometimes white-out any political overtones to the Gospel – unless, of course, they match our own party-affiliations.  Usually, we are willing to accept the gospel message of personal transformation ... but demands for political transformation ... that’s a different story.  Most of us, and, if I’m honest, I include myself here, don’t find this an easy place to go – down this particular wilderness road.
Marcus Borg invites us to consider why we in the church are so resistant to matters of justice. He suggests that many Christians are surprised – even startled – by the claim that the Bible is political and that the God of the Bible is passionate about justice. “We have often overlooked it;” he writes “and when it is pointed out, we often resist seeing it.” In calling his readers to open their eyes, Borg reminds us that since “the Roman emperor Constantine’s embrace of Christianity in the fourth century” and until very recently, the ‘powers that be’ [in our culture] were Christian and so the political voices of the Bible were muted and its political passion domesticated.”  When interests of the State contradict the God-intoxicated voices of protest – and when the church colludes by proposing God’s justice is all about punishment of individual sins – and when the culture proposes that every person can pull themselves up by their own shoelaces – the gospel itself is destroyed; the strong message in the bible, which speaks out against ‘systematic injustice’ is closed down.  Systematic injustice – that is, the “sources of unnecessary human misery created by unjust political, economic, and social systems [are just ignored].   Borg reminds us that, “the test of the justice of systems [according to many biblical voices] is their impact on human lives.  To what extent do [these systems] lead to human flourishing and to what extent to human suffering?  This is what the political passion of the Bible is about.  Its major voices protest the systematic injustice of the kingdoms and empires that dominated their world.  They do so in the name of God and on behalf of the victims – slaves in Egypt, exiles in Babylon, exploited peasants in the time of the monarchy and again in the time of Jesus, and the most vulnerable in all times – widows, orphans, the poor, and the marginalized.  And in the name of God, the major figures of the Bible advocate a very different vision of our life together.”[2]
This different vision is what Jesus talks about as the Kingdom of God.   To his hearers, who lived within the kingdoms of Herod and Caesar, Jesus’ teaching is revolutionary.  He taught about what life could be like if God was the king – rather than Herod or Caesar.  Within our context, the language would be different – but the message still stands.  Jesus’ teaching of blessing and delight for those who are poor, release for those oppressed, healing and wholeness for those weighed down by unjust systems, is still revolutionary – and still possible - if we dare commit our lives, first and foremost to the Presidency or Parliament of God – rather than the Pentagon, the Stock Exchange and the Beehive.  If God’s Spirit shaped the United Nations, the International Monetary Fund, the Financial Markets, World Trade Agreements, innocent people would not be fleeced, or led to the slaughter, justice would not be denied them, life would not be taken away from them.   It’s a grand vision – but no wonder we are reluctant to commit to it.  God’s kingdom – or presidency – or parliament might take away our privileges, our safety, our wealth, our comfort.  It’s easier, isn’t it, to close our ears to the nudging of the spirit, to close our eyes to the wilderness road with its strangers, whose stories are different from ours.  It’s easier isn’t it, to take the more travelled path, buying cheap goods, pushing under the mat of our conscience any awareness that we are supporting those who don’t pay a fair wage or provide fair working conditions; closing our hearts to real people on the receiving end of the injustices – people living in poverty, struggling to survive, being ripped off by legally acceptable, but unfair trade practices.  It’s easier, isn’t it, to domesticate the Christian story – abiding contentedly, curled up tight in the arms of Jesus – with none of the political passion, found throbbing through the Bible.
Over the last few weeks, I have been stressing the importance of personal transformation – of being born anew – as the resurrection message.  Today, I offer you the other side of the coin – a reminder that the Gospel – the good news of Jesus Christ – summons us to a politically engaged spirituality which affirms both personal and political transformation.  “The message of Jesus, and the Bible as a whole, is about both.”[3]  We will know that we are being true to the teachings of Jesus when we seek to bring about that kin-dom of God in which our own deepest longing for personal transformation meets the world’s greatest yearning for political transformation.  To enable that to happen, to ensure the bearing of much fruit, we’re called to abide in Jesus’ challenging, wilderness-way picture – with a cross at its centre – arms outstretched in vulnerable and unconditional love for the whole world.  May it be so.


[1] Marcus Borg, The Heart of Christianity 2003 p.130.
[2] Marcus Borg, The Heart of Christianity 2003 p127-129.
[3]Marcus Borg, The Heart of Christianity 2003 p.146.