I was
struck, on Friday, by the final speech made by Rishi Sunak as Prime Minister,
and by the first speech made by his successor in that role, Keir Starmer. Both
men acknowledged the role that the support and hard work of others had played
in the opportunity presented to them; the will of others in constraining their
own hopes; and the reality that whatever can be built, however our common life
is shaped, is and can only be done together.
We do not
impose our will on the world, or other people, as a blank canvas or a lump of
putty. Indeed, we do not only discover the extent to which our will may be
realised in engagement with other people and the physical world we share; our
will is actually formed in relation to the will of others.
In the
Gospel passage set for this Sunday, Mark 6.1-13, we are reminded that Jesus is
constrained by his work as a carpenter, by his family of origin, and by the
wider community in which he is situated. This embeddedness places limits on
what he is able to do, and in this passage he discovers something of those
limits. But these constraints are not solely negative. It is within the
contexts of these constraints, these interactions that combine to give shape to
what is possible, that Jesus comes to understand himself not only as the Son of
Mary, but as the Son of Man, that is, what it is to be a human being, part of
humanity. It is within these same constraints that others come to see Jesus as
the Son of God, or also the Son (descendant) of David, both of which are to
say, the legitimate king of Israel.
Within
this embedded context, indeed within the specific context of coming up against
the push-back of others, Jesus calls twelve others to him, and sends them out
ahead of him into the surrounding area. As they go, and meet other people in
the embeddedness of their lives, they proclaim that all should repent. To
repent means to change your mind, in relation to something; but, more than
that, to change your mind as a consequence of having spent time with another
person, of getting to know something of them and their life. The twelve do not
go out telling people, repent, or that certain types of people need to repent,
but proclaiming that all (that is, the twelve included) should repent.
In other
words, this is the work of building bridges, between people, between me and
you, together. For this to happen, I must reassess what I believe, including my
assumptions about Others, in light of having met with you, having listened to
you, having seen you, and you, me. This is listening to people on their
doorsteps, rather than just speaking at them.
This goes
against the grain of our cultural assumptions, which denies the existence of a
grain to work with. We surely only need to programme our desired outcome into
the 3D printer. But Jesus was a carpenter, and a carpenter becomes a master
carpenter in the mutual submission of the carpenter to the wood and the wood to
the carpenter. They work together, this sentient being, and this given material
reality or Other, which would only frustrate the inexperienced or immature
worker.
We live in
a world where the grandson of immigrants, or a man who grew up in a working-class
home can become Prime Minister—and can be removed from office. But this is not
to say that you can be anything that you want, which is an unbearable burden
that can only result in a sense of failure and the deep shame that comes with
it, the sense of inadequacy for which we alone are to blame. It means that we
start, somewhere, with a set of givens that shape possibilities, that shape
further possibilities. Like sailing across a lake, at times we advance carried
by the wind, at times we must tack into the wind as a corrective; and at times
the wind is so hard against us that we can only get anywhere at great effort,
abandoning our ideal plan for what is possible.
Generally
speaking, we would prefer that other people repent, than we are willing to
repent ourselves. We want to impose our will, or we surrender any willpower and
abandon ourselves to fate. We need, instead, to learn that the world is
created, and that we are creative agents in that world, through mutual
submission. That requires trust, and the willingness to honour the other, even
(especially) those with whom we disagree. In this, on Friday gone, Rishi Sunak
and Keir Starmer both served us, as a nation, well.
