Steps of Judgement

Over the years I’ve been accused of coming up with many a strange link in these pieces; perhaps this is one of the strangest.  My feet recently led me <groan> to think of Judas Iscariot.  Read on before you condemn the idea as total nonsense.

When I say that I love walking, what I really mean is that I like the idea of being in the open, with the sun streaming down around me, and a gentle breeze tickling my face.  In my imagination, I’m looking over a broad stretch of rolling meadowland to an historic village nestling in the woodland below.  The only trouble is that, to arrive at such an idyll, one has to walk.  My feet aren’t best friends with thick socks and walking boots.  They get sore and, through the lack of years of practice, my legs and ankles ache after just a short walk so, far from being the delight it should be, this is something of a challenge to be undertaken only rarely.

During Jesus’s earthly lifetime, there were no cars or cycles. He and his disciples walked everywhere: possibly barefoot.  We simply cannot comprehend a lifestyle like that.  For us walking is a leisure activity; for them it was a way of life that is beyond our modern understanding.

Now, like my feet and walking boots, the disciples were not best friends with understanding.  They had their problems; the gospels are strewn with phrases like, ‘Do you still not understand?’(Mat. 16:9), and ‘Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time?’ (John 14:9).  Words like this show just how far they were from thinking like their Master.  Judas was most spectacularly not on Jesus’ wavelength.  One line of thought says that Judas believed he was hastening the fulfilment of Christ’s mission by turning Him in to the temple guard.  In a sense he was, of course, but not in the way he expected.  So much so that he took his own life in remorse that he had so misjudged the Saviour of mankind.

The expression “Don’t judge a man until you have walked a day in his shoes” was quoted in the film ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’.  It is credited to the first century rabbi Hillel, but whoever originally said it, the words represent a caution that I find myself in almost daily need to remember.  Who am I to say that walkers are eccentric fanatics?  And who are they to say I’m a wimp for not following their healthy example?  After all, Jesus taught us, ‘Do not judge, or you too will be judged’ (Mat. 7:1).

By the way ... how did I do with that link?

"... their Heirs and Assigns"

As one whose hobby is genealogy, I was pleased the other day to discover that the TV programme Heir Hunters had returned for a new series.  Compared to most people, I watch very little television, but that is one programme that does command my rapt attention.  After many series now, very little of the actual heir-tracing techniques illustrated is novel, but each story is unique despite the common plot.

‘Common’ is a very appropriate word here because, while the plot (i.e. someone dying with no known family) is common to every programme, I fear that this has become a more common occurrence in our modern world than was the case perhaps as little as fifty years ago. 

It is an acknowledged myth that people only began to move far away from their birthplace in recent years; despite the distances involved, I believe there was far more regular contact within dispersed families a few generations ago than today.  Many and varied are the causes for this change in our behaviour.  While their analysis doesn’t properly belong here, high among these factors are surely the greater number of broken and dysfunctional families, the decreasing popularity of marriage as a spiritual bond, and simply the speed of modern life in general.

I felt somewhat unusual that, by the age of thirty – maybe earlier – I could recite the names of my four grandparents and of all fourteen of my parents’ siblings (even if not in the correct order!).  In biblical times, not only would this be a commonplace ability, but it would rank very low on the scale of such achievements.  I don’t imagine that the gospel writers were accomplished family historians, but Matthew and Luke could recite for us dozens of generations of the forbears of Joseph, a mere carpenter, and Mary his wife.

It wasn’t simply that the fame of Jesus had inspired research into his genealogy.  To all Israelites, the concept of heritage was important.  At the partition of the promised land by Joshua according to the instructions of Moses (Joshua chs. 13-19), it was important to know which family and clan was descended from which of Jacob’s sons, to determine who had the right to settle where.  After the return from exile in the time of Ezra, it became important to distinguish Jews from other nations and stress was laid on establishing descent from returning exiles (Ezra ch. 9).  Genealogy was important, too, to determine the right of certain families to act as priests (Ezra 2, esp. v. 62).

One of the fundamental characteristics of family life that has, to a great extent, disappeared in our modern age is care for our extended families.  For example, many of the deceased ‘stars’ of Heir Hunters are maiden aunts.  When traced, many an heir expresses sadness that they never knew of the deceased’s existence, and how much better it would have been to have known her while alive, rather than share in her wealth now she was dead.

From the earliest days, the Israelites were told to respect their parents.  The fifth Commandment given by God through Moses was that they should honour their fathers and mothers (Ex. 20:12); the instruction that a brother should marry his dead brother’s wife (Deut. 25:5-6) had more to do with the preservation of the family line but was also, nevertheless, an indication of the responsibility to care for other family members.  This duty had been carried down the centuries, for it was referred to by the Sadducees when they questioned Jesus in the Temple (Matt. 22:25).

We all like a good family story, whether it is on TV, like Heir Hunters today, or The Waltons in times past, or in one of a myriad of popular novels.  But is there someone not too distantly related to you, for whom you have an unexercised duty of care?  Although not the best of motives for care, it could result in you being named in a Will; far more importantly, it could bring untold light and richness to a lonely person’s days, and – who knows? – it might help to reverse a sad trend in modern life!