They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.
(Luke 4:29-30)
Hi Fighter,
In case you’re not familiar with who ‘He’ is in the above quote, yes, it’s Jesus.
Of course, we all know that Jesus was killed at the end of His three years of ministry but the first attempt on His life took place right after His first speaking engagement! Indeed, it was a sign of things to come.
The text from Luke chapter 4 follows on from our text of last week, where Jesus gave a sermon that was only one line long – “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:21) – and it’s not immediately obvious whether it was the sermon that so enraged Jesus’ audience or whether it was the discussion that followed, where Jesus indicated that He wasn’t planning on proving His credentials to anybody. Most likely, it was a bit of both, but the thing that really strikes me is how quickly the people turned on Him. One moment we’re told that “all spoke well of him” (Luke 4:22) and moments later they were trying to throw him off a cliff!
I feel I’ve had my own experience of that – being loved and adored by a community for 29 years and then having them try to throw me (and the boxing club) off a cliff. Perhaps it’s not an uncommon experience.
I’ve often reflected on the life of Henry Francis Lyte – a fellow Anglican priest who devoted much of his life to ministry in a fishing village near Devon in the UK. He was parish priest there from 1824 to 1847. Despite the centuries between us, I’ve always felt an affinity with Lyte – both because of his love of the Anglo-Catholic tradition and because of his focus on the needs of the young people in his community.
Henry Lyte’s story ended sadly. Despite building up his parish consistently over many years, most of his congregation suddenly up and left him to join the local chapter of the Plymoth Brethren in 1847 because they decided he was too Catholic. Lyte didn’t cope well. He became ill and decided to take a short holiday in Italy, but died the same year before returning.
You may have known nothing of the life of Henry Lyte before now, but I’d be surprised if you haven’t heard the hymn he left us:
Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.
I’ve lost count of the number of funerals I’ve taken over the years, and Henry Lyte’s hymn seems to have been sung at most of them. He wrote those words (and the seven other verses that accompany them) as he was just about to head off on that final holiday. Out of his woundedness came a wonderful gift of life!
People are fickle. If we take a stand and share our message publicly, some people will love us and some will hate us, and others will love us one minute and hate us the next. Sadly, such is the human condition. Even so, the good news is that God brings life out of these situations.
Those sombre words penned by Henry Lyte in the final months of life have proven to be a greater gift to humanity than his many years of service in his parish. Similarly, with Jesus, of course. While the teachings and healings of Jesus were a wonderful gift to the world, the Christian gospel of hope really only begins at the cross.
I reflect on my own sense of pain and alienation. Is that something that God can use somehow to become a source of healing for others? It’s hard to see how. Even so, Henry Lyte would have had no idea what a gift he was giving to the world when he penned ‘Abide with me’, just as Jesus’ disciples initially had no idea how the crucifixion was going to end up becoming ‘good news’.
God has a way of bringing light out of our darkest moments.
Our Sunday Eucharist
I’m back in the bush at Binacrombi this weekend, along with plenty of guests. That always scares me a little as it’s such a volatile environment. Last weekend we had a flash flood that almost consumed both the tent and the vehicle of some of our campers! We’re going to have to stop people camping too close to the river.
I think the best thing we ever did at Binacrombi was to build a chapel in the centre of it. The chapel reminds us that the whole infrastructure of the place is held together by prayer. Of course, that’s ultimately true of every aspect of life and society. It’s just more obvious at Binacrombi. 😉
I’m trusting that our Sunday Bush Eucharist will proceed as ever, and I hope to have our brother, Doug, joining me in the commentary box this week. Join us on Sunday at midday via:
- The Father Dave Facebook Page
- YouTube
Support the work
If you’re not a financial supporter yet and you can afford to be, you’ll find the usual three options on the Patreon page:
- Middleweight Division ($10/month) where you get access to the member site, along with the videos and other resources.
- Heavyweight Division ($100/month) which includes individual coaching, along with software subscriptions to both Buzzious and Streamout, allowing you both to publish an unlimited number of quality blogs and to livestream.
- Super-Heavyweight division ($400/month) includes all of the above plus me working with you in person – at The Fight Lab and at Binacrombi Bush Camp
A Eulogy to the Fight Club
In closing, I want to share with you a video I put together this week that celebrates the end of Father Dave’s Old School Boxing Academy in Dulwich Hill. The video is a short tribute composed of the testimonies of some of those who shared the final training session with me. It’s not done very professionally (as it’s done by me) but I think it does communicate something of the true spirit of the club.
Rob and George and I are still trying to train people. We are doing a public training session every Tuesday night from 6.30 pm at The Fight Lab in Tempe. Rob and George also train at Sydney University gym on Monday and Wednesday nights, and I’m training people out at Binacrombi on the weekends. I’m also looking to train at different times during the week with those who are keen, so if you’d like some one-on-one coaching, let me know. Perhaps out of this pain, new life will indeed come.
I’ll give the final words today to Henry Lyte:
Thou on my head in early youth didst smile,
And though rebellious and perverse meanwhile,
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee.
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me.
Your brother in the Good Fight,
www.fatherdave.org
www.fighting-fathers.com
www.holytrinity.org.au
www.binacrombi.com.au
www.israelandpalestine.org
www.prayersforsyria.com
www.dulwichhillgym.com
www.boxersforpeace.com
www.warriorweekends.com
P.S. Joy thanks you for your prayer. Despite the pain of the chemotherapy, the good news is that it seems to be working well. The cancer is shrinking – thanks be to God.
About Father Dave Smith
Preacher, Pugilist, Activist, Father of four
