Let us pray: O God, may these words and the thoughts and actions they inspire be faithful to your will for us, your people and may they tell of your glory. Amen.

    One of the criticisms levelled at The Da Vinci Code by those who would condemn it is that it portrays Jesus as all too human. Despite the fact that christological discourse over the centuries has always centred on both the divine and human nature of Jesus there are some who are unable to imagine what it means for Jesus to be fully human. Just looking around this chapel, or thinking about the people whom we count among our friends or work colleagues, we know that the range of what it means to be human is vast and varied. To sum all of humanity up in the life of one person is both daunting and unrealistic. To say, therefore that Jesus represents all of humanity - even to say that Jesus represents all that is good about humanity is impossible. That should not and does not prevent us from seeing Jesus’ life as an example for some of the ways that we should go about living our own lives.

    I was prompted to reflect on the human nature of Jesus by the interesting juxtaposition of stories that we just heard from the Hebrew Bible and Mark’s gospel. When I first read them on Tuesday in preparation for this week’s worship, I was immediately intrigued by the contrast between them. Over the summer weeks we’ve been following the story of David and his ascendence to the throne as monarch of the Hebrew people. So far it has been a story of great success and conquest. Last week, we heard the part of the story where David brings “home” the Ark of the Covenant. There was just an inkling in that passage that David’s ascendence was going to run into a hitch. That hitch is recounted in the reading we heard today. Today, David and God were at odds. David wanted to build a permanent and beautiful residence for the Ark of the Covenant - one that would match the awe and power that the Ark represented. But God had other ideas. God was not about to settle down, rest in luxury and spend a relaxed retirement. God much preferred the lightweight, easy to strike confines of a tent. A comfortable home would have to wait.

    It’s an inspiring image. God who is unwilling to settle down. God who is itching to be on the move. Ready to go at a moment’s notice. A restless God, a God who will and does move around wherever God’s presence is needed. There’s an urgency to the nature of God that we read about in this story, and there’s a thinly veiled message to David. Don’t be so bold as to tell me what to do young man. You have had your successes. You have shown yourself to be courageous and wise in battle. You have properly ascribed credit to me as God. Now don’t let it go to your head. Don’t be so bold as to think that you know what’s best for me. Yes, I’ve been with you - but I will be around long after you are gone. There are some things to be left for those who follow you. I’ll wait for your offspring come along before I’ll need a more permanent residence. David has had many victories and much glory. According to the story he has been good about giving honour to God for all that has happened so far - but as we will hear later, and as alluded to in today’s reading, there is just beginning to be a sense that the power is going to his head. God’s message in the passage for today is both a corrective to David and a reminder for us about the ready-to-go nature of God. I like this image of a restless God. It appeals to me much more than an image of a settled God, an ensconced God, a God who is in happy retirement in a beautiful home.

    Given this, you might think that I’m less enthused about the story of Jesus that occurred in Mark’s gospel this morning. It’s a curious little passage - leaving out a whole section as it did. It’s not that the omitted passage will never get read - it is just left for another time. What the passage does is tie together parts related to the same theme. It has been a pretty intense time for Jesus. They have been constantly involved in sharing the good news of God with people all around the country. There have been healings done and parables told. The work has been so concentrated and demanding that Jesus and his friends, the disciples have not even had time to eat.

    So, Jesus states that is time for a rest. Accordingly they rowed their boat to a remote place. Unfortunately, it was not an island. Word got around that their boat had headed off across the lake and some fleet footed admirers arrived there before the boat landed. Jesus and the disciples were about to go rest-less. There well-conceived but poorly concealed attempt to find some time away had been foiled, and Jesus was once again called into action.

    There’s a part of me that is encouraged by this story, and a part of me that is discouraged. It is pleasing to know that despite his best efforts to find a quiet centre in the crowded life he led that Jesus was willing to put away his need and respond with compassion. People in today’s world who have work in a helping profession, or even those who know people in helping professions have probably heard of compassion fatigue, a condition that comes about when the demands on a person’s time by needy people or people in need mount up just too much. Modern practice is designed to give people an opportunity to take a break from the demands to once again rebuild both spirit and commitment to the work. Too long a time without a break can lead to undesirable actions. Compassion can turn into resentment and empathy can turn into apathy. Part of me is inspired by the fact that Jesus was willing to give up his rest time to respond. Part of me is also concerned by the example set in this story. I appreciate that Jesus knew about the importance of rest time, but I am saddened by the fact that he was not given time to enact it. Like God in the Hebrew Bible passage, Jesus was restless - but not by his own choice - but because the demanding crowd did not allow him to have the time of rest.

    These two stories are a good lens by which we can view the christological debate. I’m glad for a restless God. My understanding of God does not require me to believe that God needs rest time. God everywhere, God all knowing and all loving speaks to me of a God who cannot be confined to one spot, who cannot even be confined to one image. It is entirely within my theological comprehension therefore to imagine God as eager not to be constrained to a palatial and regal home.

    It’s a different story with Jesus. Jesus’ humanity, like ours, requires him to seek rest time. We connect differently with God in quiet times of reflection and meditation, a time when we can rest our weary souls, build up our motivation for God’s work, and rekindle our commitment to God’s calling. More than that however, Jesus’ desire to find rest time in the midst of his busy-ness is a helpful message about his purpose as I understand it. I am more inspired by the way that Jesus as a human being invited us into a deeper, closer and better understood relationship with God, than I am by imagining Jesus as one and the same with God. Yet, in my understanding, that does not diminish Jesus’ divine nature. All of humanity is imbued with something of the divine nature. The spirit of God rests within each of us. Jesus demonstrated this with authority and acuity. He lauded others for their faith in God, and invited people to focus on God’s will and calling far above any emphasis on his own abilities. And so it is that I am inspired by the restless God we find in today’s reading from 2 Samuel, and inspired also by Jesus’ human desire to find rest as a time to re-connect himself with God’s purpose, and just a bit dismayed that on this occasion he went rest-less because of the demands placed upon him. I trust and hope that these days of summer do not work out the same for us and that we can find time to recommit and reconnect to the restless God who is calling. Amen.