Banquets and other things

October 10, 2026

Pentecost 20 -2026

Matthew 22:1-14

Marian Free

In the name of God, Earth-maker, Pain-Bearer, Life Giver. Amen.

There are at least three versions of the parable of the banquet – the awful, vengeful, bloody and violent version that we have just heard, the more irenic version recorded by Luke and one attributed to Yohanan ben Zakkai who tells a story of a king who invited some servants to a wedding feast but (who purposely) omitted to give them a time. In Zakkai’s version those with foresight dressed for the wedding and waited at the king’s door while the remainder continued with their work. When the king announced that the feast was ready, those who were dressed and waiting were allowed in and the others were made to stand in the dining room and watch the others eat.[1]

In Luke’s account the person extending the invitation is a man not a king and the occasion not a wedding but simply a banquet.  The excuses of the guests are more sincere and more justifiable – I have married a wife, I have bought five yoke of oxen, I have bought a field. Each asks to be excused – whereas in Matthew the invited guests offer not excuses in the first instance and in the second instance their reaction is either to pay no attention and continue whatever they were doing or to seize, torture and kill the servants sent with the message. When the servant reports that those invited have refused to come, the host in Luke sends the servant to bring in the poor, crippled, blind and lame, to go into the highways and byways and to compel people  to come so that the house may be filled.

According to Matthew however, the king is so angry that he sends his troops to destroy the cities of  those who had refused to come and/or had killed his servants. It seems like a gross over-reaction and the only plausible explanation is that Matthew (or his source) is referring to the destruction of Jerusalem which would have been fresh in the minds of his listeners. (Such violence, though of a completely different level, is not inconsistent with the “miserable death” inflicted on the tenants who tried to take control of the vineyard in the previous parable.)

It is a long time (over thirty years) since I have been forced to admit that I really don’t understand the text set for the day – and this despite presumably preaching on this parable more than ten times! This week, as I meditated on the parable and read a number of commentaries, I realised that I really don’t understand what it is that Matthew is trying to tell us. (And that is even if I omit the second parable about the guest without wedding clothes.)

There are, unsurprisingly, a number of social-cultural factors that need to be taken into account when approaching the parable. The first, as I have mentioned on previous occasions, is that of honour and shame. An invitation to dinner, especially an invitation from the king is a great honour and not attending slights the host in such a way that the his honour is diminished. Refusing to attend, especially with such flimsy excuses (or none) as is the case In Matthew is a great slight. No wonder the king is angry, his position has been disrespected and worse, his servants have been killed. In order to recover his honour, he needs to demonstrate that the original invitees can be destroyed and easily be replaced.

In each version of this parable there are two invitations – given or as in Luke implied. In the Ancient Middle East, much as in the Asia-Pacific today, time is much more fluid than it is for us. Two thousand years ago time was told by the sun and the seasons by the moon. Banquets, as the texts suggest, included slaughtering and cooking whole beasts. It was impossible to give more than a general idea of the time. There was no such thing as a nine-to-five working week. Those who were invited could be assumed to be of a certain social status, with slaves to do everything that was required and very little in the way of work that could not be done at some other time. An initial, generic invitation gave the intended guests due warning of the event and the second “invitation” indicated that everything was ready.

Scholars believe that Luke and Matthew are so different that they must have come by their material from a different source. What they have in common is the determination that the banquet hall be filled and if it cannot be filled with those who were invited, guests appropriate for a king or a rich man, then those who would not typically have been invited will be brought in to fill the wedding hall.

Here Luke is more specific, true to his interest in the marginalised, his reproduction of the parable insists that the poor and the crippled, and blind and lame take the place of those who have refused the invitation. Matthew’s final invitation (or demand)  differs in that  the servants are sent out twice in order to completely fill the hall and the king insists  that the bad and the good be brought in. The new invitation is completely indiscriminate. (His original listeners however will have immediately remembered the parable of the net, in which the haul of fish includes the good and bad, but the two will be sorted at the judgement and the bad will thrown into a fiery furnace where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.)

So, what does Matthew want us to take away from the parable of the banquet? That the king is a vengeful, easily offended despot who will utterly destroy not only those who refuse the invitation but who will also destroy their cities and and all that is in them. Or, is a key message that the king is at liberty to invite whomever he will – including the least expected?

Unfortunately, we don’t have a Time Machine, so it is impossible to determine what Jesus actually said, or what message the evangelists intended that their audience receive.

Consistent with all that we know of the gospels, it would be logical to conclude that what lies behind the parable is an insistence on God’s unconditional, indiscriminate love and a deeply held belief that no one is outside that love.

God does exclude or judge, but we, by our refusal of the invitation, a failure to accept that we are loved, exclude ourselves and are thereby self-condemned to a Godless existence.

It is my fervent hope, that each person here can confidently affirm that they have accepted the invitation and now bask in God’s love.

 

 

 

 


[1] Cited in Matthew – a New Translation with Introduction and Commentary by W.F, Albright and C.S.Mann, The Anchor Bible, 1971.

Francis (and vineyards)

October 3, 2026

St Francis Day – 2026

Matthew 21:23-46

Marian Free

In the name of God our creator who made and who loves all things. Amen.

Today marks the 800th anniversary of the death of St Francis so it is particularly poignant and significant to be focusing on his life today and through the blessing of pets, acknowledging his love of all creation.

But let’s begin with our gospel for today which at first sight has little or nothing to do with the life and times of St Francis, but as I thought about this sermon, I realised that the times in which Francis lived were in many ways similar to the times of Jesus and that both Francis and Jesus were considered threats to the institution of the church because they dared to relate to the common people and to give them the freedom to worship God without intermediaries. In both the first and 13th centuries, the church leaders had aligned themselves with the political authorities.  The established church was corrupt and members of  the religious establishment used their positions to build their wealth and power. In both ages the religious leaders had little concern for the people who were suffering – either under the oppressive rule of the Romans or the even more oppressive rule of feudal landlords. In both eras it was impossible of the majority of people to properly feed themselves, let alone improve their lives. The temple and church had established themselves between the people and God – through the practice of sacrifices in the first century and the practice of indulgences in the 13th. 

Not only was it impossible in either age for the people to change their circumstance – if they were born in poverty they would almost certainly die in poverty, they were also made to feel that in and of themselves there was little they could do to improve their place in God’s regard. Jesus, and in his time Francis, completely upended this idea. They preached God’s love and forgiveness and made it clear that anyone could have a direct connection with God.

For the church leaders of first century Jerusalem Jesus was anything but a comfortable figure. He critiqued their practices and their treatment of the people, he usurped their authority, was popular with the people and he broke their law. Chapters Matthew 21-23 focus on a number of conflicts between Jesus and various different groups of church leaders. They variously try to trip Jesus up and to expose him as a charlatan, but in the end all that they do is reveal their own ignorance, pride and self-serving nature.

The Chief Priests and elders (appointed and elected leaders of the Temple) begin this series of debates by asking Jesus by what authority he teaches and heals – by what authority does he disrupt the way things have always been? Jesus responds by revealing their inauthenticity. He asks a question of his own which they are unable to answer. Then, as we saw last week, he  tells not one but three parables which directly attack the authority of the leaders or at least their use of authority – the parable of the two sons in which the church leaders are identified with the son who initially says: “yes” but then does not work in the vineyard, the parable of the tenants who conspire to take control of the vineyard (which we have read today) and the parable of the banquet to which those who were invited do not come.

Today’s parable of the tenants (which the chief priests and elders recognise as being told against them) reveals what Jesus sees as their keenness  to own/control their religious heritage, its practice and its practitioners and possibly even to do away with the inconvenience of  a landlord who is truly concerned with the crop  By getting rid of the son they (unrealistically) believe that they will have control of the vineyard (by which the audience will know that Jesus means the people of Israel).

Much later Francis was born in a time of great spiritual renewal. People were taking faith into their own hands, by-passing the corruption of the church and forming communities both religious and lay, as they claimed their right to a direct and personal relationship with God. Many whom we now know as saints emerged at this time. With Francis, they created an expression of spirituality which was both accessible and homely, a spirituality which anyone – no matter how poor or how uneducated could experience and could live for themselves without the intervention of the church.

Of these Saint Francis has proven to be the most popular and enduring, possibly because he embraced radical poverty and took the gospel to the people rather than confining himself and his fellow monks behind the walls of a monastery and relying on contributions from the rich.

There were many influences in Francis’ journey, but perhaps Matthew’s account of the sending out of the disciples which impacted most strongly on the way he, his followers, and the sisters of Clare lived their lives. In Matthew 10, Jesus sends out the disciples with these words. “As you go, proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons. You received without payment; give without payment. Take no gold, or silver, or copper in your belts, no bag for your journey, or two tunics, or sandals, or a staff; for labourers deserve their food.” From this moment he owned nothing more than a single tunic and depended wholly on the goodness of others. Through his life Francis at least indirectly critiqued the wealth and power of the church and demonstrated that neither wealth nor power were prerequisites for a relationship with God

There are many stories about Francis life, his ministry and his relationship with and respect for creation both animate and inanimate. He referred to animals and to sun and moon features as Brother and Sister and it was believed that he was able to speak to animals .

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Like Jesus Francis immersed himself in the lives of the people. Like Jesus he eschewed wealth and relied on the support of others, and like Jesus he disrupted the society of his time and was considered by some to be dangerous. Above all, like Jesus, he opens the door to an authentic and personal relationship with God.

Today, we give thanks for his life and witness and pray that our lives may be at least a poor reflection of his.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hypocrisy – the parable of the two sons

September 26, 2026

Pentecost 19 – 2026

Matthew 21: 21-32

Marian Free

In the name of God, Source of our Being, Eternal Word, Life-Giving Spirit.  Amen.

Sometime ago, probably when I was in my forties, I came to the uncomfortable realization that I was not one hundred percent consistent. Despite having strongly held and articulated values I came to see that on occasion I would say or think something that was inconsistent with those same values. This, let me tell you, was a salutary and humbling experience, but one which I hope has made me more self-aware and consequently much less judgmental. I cannot think what led me to this conclusion but the tendency to inconsistency is probably most evident in current debate in migration. In every age and nation migrants are a convenient flogging horse – outsiders who can be blamed for the lack of housing and jobs the increase in crime and so on. People can speak vehemently on the subject while at the same time being best friends with their neighbour, local grocer or other whom they see as an exception to the rule rather than evidence that their argument does not stand.

The meaning of this morning’s parable of the two brothers is apparently self-evident. At some time or other we may well have been one of the two brothers, or at the very least we will have known someone who, having said, “no”, then actually does the task and vice versa. These things happen, and in and of themselves don’t necessarily make a person good or bad. The brother who said: “yes” wasn’t lying or trying to make a good impression. Almost certainly he thought he would go and work in the vineyard, but then maybe his friends dropped in, he got caught up in the book he was reading, or was distracted in some other way. Time passed and then it was too late to go into the vineyard. The other brother, who may have said “no” because it was too hot, or because he had already made plans, later realised that his filial duty was to work in the vineyard. Neither brother did what they said they would do, but they almost certainly weren’t lying when they said “yes” or “no”.

So, the parable is straight-forward enough, but to whom does it relate and where do the tax collectors and prostitutes fit in?

As might be expected, the clues are in the context. If we hadn’t skipped over a chapter or two, we would have seen that between the parable of the labourers in the vineyard and today’s confrontation with the Chief Priests and elders, Jesus has triumphantly entered Jerusalem, has overturned the tables of the money changers and has been healing the blind and lame within the Temple complex. It is no surprise that the Chief Priests and elders (appointed and elected guardians of the faith) want to know by what authority Jesus does such things. This, plus the fact that Jesus quite clearly has the ability to draw people to him, is a threat to the leadership of the Chief Priests and elders.

Their questions: “By what authority do you do these things? And who gave you this power?” are designed to catch Jesus out, to make him blaspheme by saying that his power comes from God. Jesus is not so easily ensnared. He has a question of his own regarding the baptism of John the Baptist. Unfortunately, his opponents are not as nimble as Jesus – if they answer one way they will be condemned for not believing John, and if they answer another, they risk an uprising from the crowds. Jesus has avoided their trap, but he is not done. He goes on to tell not one, but three parables – the parable of the two sons, the parable of the tenants, and the parable of the banquet – each of which is an attack on his questioners.

The parable of the sons is sandwiched between the argument about authority and the parable of the tenants who kill the owner’s slaves and finally kill his son, so that they might inherit the vineyard. It both refers back to the question about John the Baptist and forward to the parable of the wicked tenants.

Having silenced his critics, Jesus continues by attacking them. “I say to you that the tax collectors and prostitutes will enter the kingdom of God ahead of you”. The parallel is not a neat one, but the implication is that the Chief Priests and elders prevaricated when it came to John the Baptist. To them John represented both a religious and political threat. John’s popularity could have the effect of reducing their ability to influence the people and there was always a risk that the crowds would riot. Whatever they thought of John the Baptist they could not publicly endorse him. On the other hand, the tax collectors and the prostitutes, who by their professions and through their collaboration with Rome made them unsuitable candidates for the Kingdom of God, believed in John the Baptist and therefore demonstrated that they were worthy of the Kingdom.

Jesus identifies the Chief Priests and elders as the second son – the one who said yes, but who did not go into the vineyard. The implication is that the Chief Priests and elders have not lived up to their commitment to care for the people of Israel. They may have believed that by aligning themselves with Rome that they were in some way protecting the people – by keeping the peace and ensuring that their religious traditions could be honoured. In in fact they have sold out. They are not advocating for the people, and by protecting their own position, they are definitely not tending the vineyard that God has entrusted to them.

That Jesus is identifying the Chief Priests and elders with the second son, is made even clearer in the parable that followers – the parable of the wicked tenants who kill the owner’s servants and then his son in order that they might have the vineyard for himself.

At best the Chief Priests and elders have deluded themselves about how they are fulfilling their role. They have convinced themselves that by colluding with Rome they are serving God and God’s people but they are unable to see that their compromises are causing more harm than good. Jesus exposes their hypocrisy and through parables illustrates the ways in which they have not only neglected their duty, but in which they have demonstrated their utter lack of concern for the vineyard (which is Israel).

Though this parable is told against the Chief Priests and elders it still has something to say to us. Do our own interests get in the way of serving Christ? Having said yes to Jesus, do we follow through? Is the way we live our life always consistent with our faith?

When we are asked to go into the vineyard, let us say: “yes” and then follow through.

  

It’s not fair! Labourers in the vineyard

September 19, 2026

Pentecost 17 – 2026

Matthew 20: 1-16

Marian Free

In the name of God who loves without distinction, who welcomes the least as well as the greatest, and who eats with sinners and tax collectors. Amen.

Many years ago, when I was in Rosewood,  I took on the role of Chaplain at local High School. Not being sure how to engage with the students, I told them that if they said: “Hello Marian,” they would get a Mintie. There was no other condition. They say “hello” and I give them a Mintie. Some of the teachers didn’t understand this. They were surprised when the children who were on their way to detention received a Mintie because they said: “Hello, Marian”. The teachers thought that those who were already being punished should be punished a little bit more. My attitude was this: they fulfill the condition, they get a Mintie.

I would take a guess that at least one of you reacted to today’s parable with a sense of umbrage. It’s not fair! Why should those who worked for only an hour receive the same as those who worked all day.

It’s not fair! It’s not fair that God should traipse all over the country looking for the sheep that has strayed while leaving the obedient sheep at the mercy of wild animals. It’s not fair that God should welcome the son who has publicly shamed him when he has never thrown a party for the faithful son who has worked shoulder-by-shoulder with him. It’s not fair that the thief who was crucified with Jesus should get a free pass to heaven when he admits that he is guilty. It is not fair that the sheep, the son and the thief are embraced by God’s love when they have done nothing to deserve it and have not even said: “sorry.” It is simply not fair.

All of us it seems are born with an inbuilt sense of justice.  From almost as soon as we can speak we notice when others receive more than we do, or when someone’s punishment doesn’t reflect the magnitude of their offense (as judged by us). Our sense of fairness and our belief in a just God, leads us to believe that God thinks as we do, that there is an invisible scale of justice on which we are weighed and according to which God will reward the good and punish the bad. When God doesn’t behave as we expect, when offenders don’t receive their just deserts (as determined by us), we –  like the workers in today’s parable, or the older brother in the parable of the prodigal – are indignant. It is not fair.

The problem with this point of view is our confidence in our own deservedness and our consequent failure to understand that God, in God’s generosity has already overlooked all our shortcomings. 

Today’s parable might be one of the most significant in the Gospels because it points to a simple truth about God. God is“unfair”, at least in the way that most of us understand fairness. 

The scene is a market place. In occupied Palestine much of the farming land had been taken from the local people and given to Roman soldiers. The only way for the now landless men to earn an income was to hope that one of the landowners might be able to give them work for a day. They would gather in the square in the early morning hoping to be among those chosen. If not chosen, they would continue to wait on the off chance that a landowner had underestimated the number of men needed and would return to employ more. It was a precarious existence, but one that indicated not laziness but a determination to work. We interpret “idle”  in a pejorative sense, but it simply means that they had nothing to do while they waited.

In the parable, eventually, all the men are hired, but not all work for the same length of time. Some work only an hour while those hired first work all day in the hot sun. Not surprisingly when those who have worked the longest see the late comers paid the daily wage, they begin to imagine that they might be paid more than originally agreed.  The owner’s response is most unsatisfactory. It might even be said that it adds insult to injury:  “Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?”

Are you envious because I am generous? This is at the heart of our problem. It is one thing for God to be generous to us, quite another for God to treat someone whose offenses we deem to be worse than our own, in the same way[1].

The problem for God is this – there is only one “reward” and that is eternal life and there is only one criterion for receiving eternal life and that is faith. Let me say that again because it is important –  there is only one reward and only one way to achieve it. The sole criterion for eternal life is not perfection, but faith and that works to our advantage because not one of us is perfect. God’s generosity benefits us because we cannot hope to be perfect. There are no shades of perfection, either one is perfect or one is not.  Our imperfection renders us the same as every other imperfect person. The good news is that God does not demand perfection but only faith and this too renders us the same as every other person of faith. There is one reward and one criterion for gaining that reward.

If God chooses to be generous to us, how can we expect God to be less than generous with others?


[1] This innate sense of fairness is almost certainly one of the reasons why the church came up with the idea of Purgatory – a place in which those who did not come up to standard could reflect on their sins for a sufficient amount of time before they were deemed suitable for heaven. It saw “justice” dispensed in a human way.

How much do you owe? Forgiveness and accountability

September 12, 2026

Pentecost 16 – 2026

Matthew 18:21-35

Marian Free

In the name of God who has compassion for God’s children, remembers that we are but dust, and removes our transgressions – as far as the east is from the west (Ps 103). Amen.

Recently a young man was murdered in Logan. In what was apparently a planned attack, he was set upon by six others during a party. All seven boys were members of the local Sudanese community.  The victim, Jon, was the son of an Anglican priest. In the midst of their pain and grief, the Jon’s parents were able to reach out to the parents of the other boys insisting that their friendship not be destroyed by the event. Jon’s grieving parents could see that anger and vengefulness had no place in their healing process and would not help the parents of the other boys who were no doubt hurting and confused. Instead of holding on to their pain as a badge of anguish and pain, they were able to see the suffering of the other  parents, and to have compassion for all the boys involved. 

It is interesting isn’t it, that Jon’s parents could be so gracious when other people hold onto big and to petty hurts and seem to take pleasure in nurturing their feelings of having been wronged, indeed make what they perceive as an unforgiveable wrong something that sets them apart from the world – special badly done by people. The consequences of holding grudges and of withholding forgiveness can be enormous. Those who hold on to their sense of being an injured party tend to become bitter and self-centred. They allow the wound to fester, and they become self-absorbed and self-righteous believing that in order for things to be put right the offender needs to experience their pain. Their lives become smaller, drawn in on themselves, and they can be eaten up by their obsession with what has happened and with what they think should happen to the one who has hurt them.

Jon’s parents exemplify what it means to forgive in the context of the Christian faith. Sadly this has often been misunderstood. 

When Jesus says Peter must forgive seventy times seven, he does not mean that an offender can simply repeat the same behaviour over and over without facing the consequences of their actions.  This is made clear in the verses that precede Peter’s question. Bad behaviour has to be addressed – especially within the believing community. Forgiveness without accountability is meaningless. In the past, the church has not always made this connection. As a consequence, child sexual abuse was not properly addressed, and women were sent home to abusive husbands with the instruction that they should forgive the violence perpetrated against them.

Peter’s question and the parable that Jesus tells about forgiveness cannot be separated from the chapter as a whole. Here Jesus addresses the believing community, instructing them how to live together. In order to fully understand what Jesus is saying about forgiveness, we have to look at what comes before and to understand that Jesus is very clear that the vulnerable are not to come to harm. In language that is harsh to the extreme Jesus condemns any behaviour that causes another to stumble, and he gives instruction about dealing with conflict in the community. In the same chapter, he tells the parable of the lost sheep and the shepherd who abandons the sheep who have remained with the flock and goes off on a wild good chase after the one who has gone astray. Causing harm is excluded, but so too is excluding the one who has caused harm.

God’s concern with the vulnerable and the lost, does not replace God’s desire for responsibility and accountability. The two go hand in hand. Compassion and understanding are extended to even the worst offenders but that does not mean that their offenses are simply overlooked. The sinner must take responsibility for the sin, must acknowledge the debt, before God can overlook the sin and forgive the debt.

All of which brings us to the parable.  We have to understand that slavery covered a wide variety of situations. There were slaves, like Joseph many centuries before, who had a great deal of responsibility and authority over the assets of their owners. Other slaves carried out menial tasks, had no power and very little income. According to the parable, the king (slave-owner) has decided to “settle his accounts”.  In the process he discovers that one slave owes a vast amount of money – the equivalent of twenty years’ wages an amount that can never be repaid. The only way to recoup the debt (or a portion of the debt) is to sell the slave, his family and all that he owns. However, when the slave begs for mercy, the king does the unthinkable – he forgives the debt – all $2,000,000 of it!

Why then does this same slave then demand that another slave pay him a mere $2,300 – $3,500? He doesn’t need it to repay his debt – that slate has been completely wiped clean. It seems that the richer of the two slaves has deluded himself into thinking that because the debt has been forgiven that he had done nothing wrong, that he was, after all, right to use the money. From this position of self-righteousness, he assumes that he is in a position to judge others. Because he didn’t see himself to be in the wrong, he has not accepted accountability and has been completely unable to grasp the significance of his being forgiven. Because he has no idea of the enormity of his offense or of the generosity of the king, he has remained unchanged – self-righteous and judgmental, unable to see himself for who he is – greedy and self-serving. (The result being that now he must face the consequences of his actions.)

In the gospels accountability and forgiveness go hand in hand. When we accept how far we fall short of the glory of God and how gracious God has been in overlooking our debts, it is almost impossible not to extend that same compassion and forgiveness to others. If we are blind to our own faults and believe that we deserve to have our slates swiped clean while others must pay their debts to the full, we have demonstrated that like the slave who owed 10,000 talents we have not understood what it means to belong to the kingdom of God.

Uneasy harmony or painful authenticity – dealing with conflict

September 6, 2026

Pentecost 15 – 2026

Matthew 18:1-20

Marian Free

In the name of God, from whom nothing is hidden. Amen.

In my experience the church is notoriously bad at dealing with conflict. In a synodical situation where strongly held but opposing views are held, the situation can sometimes be quite combative – each side using every tool in their tool box to make their point and to destroy the arguments of the other. This was evident during all the years when the Anglican Church was discussing the ordination of women – first as Deacons, then as priests, and finally as bishops. Those who opposed the ordination of women were intransigent and at times quite threatening. That is not to say that division rules the national church. There are times, both locally and nationally when groups with divergent views come together to rewrite motions in such a way that a majority of can support them. In such cases, a motion becomes unifying instead of divisive.

In Parishes however, there are no such mechanisms. There seems to be an expectation that Christians will automatically get along with each other, showing Christian love, exercising tolerance, and extending forgiveness. As a consequence, division, tensions and resentments often simmer just below the surface. Conflicts are not addressed openly because of a misunderstanding of what it means to love another in a Christian context.

Loving one’s neighbour can be interpreted as making excuses for someone who is easily angered or who undermines the work of others. Loving the person without addressing the behaviour means that there is no way for the offended person or persons to deal with the hurt that has been inflicted. Forgiveness extended in such circumstances implies that the behaviour is condoned. Similarly, enduring hurts and or neglect that have been deliberately or thoughtlessly inflicted can be given a positive, “Christian” spin, if it they interpreted as “taking up one’s cross”, bearing pain (albeit unnecessary pain) “for Jesus’ sake.” Jesus’ injunction to be “humble’ can lead to a person disguising ambition while at the same time seeking to gain influence indirectly.

 What this means is that some Christian communities which look caring and functional on the outside can be dysfunctional combinations of individual insecurities.

In writing his gospel, Matthew has divided Jesus’ teaching into five or six blocks – the first and longest being what we call the Sermon on the Mount. Chapter 18, the chapter we are reading through at the moment, is often called the community chapter because in it Matthew records Jesus’ teaching on how to live as a community – being as children, doing nothing that would cause harm to another member of the community, how to deal with conflict and forgiveness. Scholars believe that references to “little ones” here and elsewhere in Matthew refers to members of the community.

Jesus’ foresight here is incredible. How would he know that after his death communities would form and would behave in the ways communities have behaved since the beginning of time – with people struggling for places of authority, hurt and lonely people trying to find a place in which they belong, and people who find meaning in suffering.  He appears to know too how damaging it can be to leave tensions unaddressed, wounds untended, and expectations unmet. Here here he provides a way to deal with conflict and in so doing makes it clear that tensions should not be left to bubble under the surface, and hurts should not be buried but should be brought out into the open.

Bringing conflicts out into the open is difficult and painful. The offender does not like to come face-to-face with their dark side and the one who has been hurt may worry about being seen as weak or precious.

There is wisdom in Jesus’ approach. The first step in conflict resolution is for the one who has experienced hurt to have a private conversation with the one who has caused the hurt. This is not an easy conversation, but it means that neither the offender or the one offended against needs to lose face. If this doesn’t work involve just one or two others who might be able to diffuse the tension and between them tease out what has happened, explain to the offender why the offended against feels as they do, or why their behaviour was inappropriate. Sometimes it takes more than that. Sometimes the wrong-doer cannot appreciate the extent of the harm they have caused. In which case the whole community might need to be enlisted to resolve the issue.

If the offender still doesn’t appreciate the consequences of what they have done,  they cannot see that their behaviour is inconsistent with living in the community of Christ it may indicate that for the time being they need to be excluded. (For a contemporary example we need look no further than to the perpetrators of child sexual abuse who cannot accept the enormity of the harm that they have inflicted.)

In today’s corporate world, in the field of education and psychology there are multiple forms of conflict resolution all of which validate Jesus’ injunction that conflict needs to be addressed rather than allowed to fester, that successful communities are those that are able to be open and honest with each other and which don’t paper over difference for the sake of looking loving and united on the outside.

It is important to note that the mending of relationships, not the judgement of the wrong-doer is at the centre of Jesus’ teaching. This will become evident in next week’s gospel when Peter (obviously concerned by what Jesus has just said) asks how many times must one forgive.

Jesus doesn’t spell out exactly how to resolve conflict, he doesn’t use the language of modern psychology to reinforce his argument, but he provides a beginning and, if you like, a principle – that disagreements should not be left to fester.

All our relationships – with our friends, and within our families, our community groups, our churches – are enhanced and deepened if we can be authentic and honest with each other, if we mend bridges rather than patch over them. Being in Christ does not mean living in uneasy harmony, but in acknowledging our differences and learning to live together with them.

 

 

 

 

 

Losing is gaining, dying is living

August 29, 2026

Pentecost 14 – 2026

Exodus 3:1-15, Romans 12:9-21, Matthew 16:21-28

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to die to self and live to God. Amen.

“When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”(sic) So wrote Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his book The Cost of Discipleship. Bonhoeffer was to live the truth of these words after his arrest and eventual execution by the Nazis at the end of the second World War.  

Our lectionary readings are intended to be sequential not thematic. Right now, we are making our way through Exodus, Romans and Matthew. Every now and then though a common thread appears. (This, you might argue, is hardly surprising given that the Bible in its entirety is the story of our relationship with God.) Today, if we exempt the Psalm, a common theme that emerges is that of “call” or discipleship.

We begin with Moses. Moses, who has fled Pharaoh’s court after killing an Egyptian, is minding his business, watching sheep in Horeb when God grabs his attention by way of a burning bush. God describes the suffering of the Israelites and informs Moses that he is to be the means through whom his people are saved. If you read further, you will see that Moses has a number of objections to this plan not least is the fact that because he has offended both the Egyptians and the Israelites, he can be certain that neither side will listen to him. God, who usually doesn’t take “no” for an answer, convinces Moses that these are mere details that can be overcome with God’s help, so Moses reluctantly accepts the call to join God in the liberation of God’s people.

Moses was right to be cautious. Being called by God is not a call to a life of ease. Exodus continues by recounting how Moses lived out his call in the face of the resistance and rebelliousness of the Israelites, the dangers and deprivations of the desert and finally in the knowledge that despite it all, he would never see the promised land. In the end though, all those difficulties are outweighed by Moses’ intimate relationship with God with whom on more than one occasion he speaks face-to-face. 

The gospel continues this theme of call. Jesus’ disciples have responded Jesus’ call and though they have left everything to follow him, they have yet to really understand the cost of discipleship or indeed the true nature of Jesus’ mission. In the passage immediately before this morning’ gospel, the disciples have finally admitted that they believe Jesus to be the Christ, the Son of the Living God. To their minds, this means that he is the one who will save Israel from its oppressors. Discipleship in this context is as an adventure that has victory as its end. 

It is almost impossible to imagine the shock and surprise when Jesus not only turns this idea on its head by telling them that he must suffer and die but also insists that they must lose their life to find it. Peter’s reaction to this news tells us that this is not what he thought they signed up for.  He doesn’t understand that Jesus’ meaning is both literal and figurative. Some of them will physically die, but all who are called to follow Christ are called to “die” – by giving up a life focussed on themselves and endeavouring to live lives entirely focussed on and directed by God.

That Paul has understood what Jesus’ meant by “taking up one’s cross” is evident in all his letters. In Galatians for example, he wrote: “Ι have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me” (Gal 3:19b-20). Physically Paul is very much alive, but in the light of his relationship with Christ, he can see that everything he once strove for, everything he once relied on, has been reduced to garbage. He is dead to his past and alive to Christ. The theme of dying and rising was explored earlier in the letter to the Romans (5-8). In chapter 12, Paul applies his theology to the life of the community. What does it look like to die to self and rise to Christ to be, as he says in verse 1, “a living sacrifice”?

His answer is that those who are called to follow Christ are called to die to the need to dominate and possess, to die to the desire for vengeance, to die to ambition, and to die to anger, hatred and evil. They are called to put the well-being of others before their own needs, to stop protecting their own interests, and to measure their lives by kingdom values, not by earthly values. They are called to understand the upside-down world of discipleship in which “suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint.”  (Rom 5:3b-5).

Disciples of Christ are called to die to self-centredness and to all that deals death to joy, peace, and love, so that that greed, selfishness and hatred no longer have a place in our lives or therefore no longer have a place in the world. We are called to meet evil with good, greed with generosity, despair with hope, judgement with understanding and forgiveness, and competition with cooperation. 

When Jesus calls disciples to take up their cross, it is not to seek a life of suffering or to welcome death. Rather it is to let go of all the attitudes and behaviours that are life-denying and to replace them with those that are life-giving. 

Only when we truly surrender our egos and all the things that bind us to our earthly existence, only when we answer God’s call with all that we are and have will we truly know God’s peace and joy and discover what it means to be truly alive. The journey, like that of Moses, of Jesus and of the disciples may be filled with difficulty and may, at worst lead to our death, but it will be a journey unencumbered by our human frailties and needs and will be inspired and directed by our connection with the divine. What we lose will be nothing compared to what we (and thus the world) will gain.

The stranger in our midst – Jacob’s family in Egypt

August 22, 2026

Pentecost 13 – 2026

Exodus 1:8-2:10

Marian Free

In the name of God whose welcome embraces all. Amen.

I’m a bit over Facebook, but every now and then someone posts a real gem that manages to get through the algorithm. This week there were several gems, one of which was a cartoon by Wilcox from THE AGE. Over a number of frames, a woman responds to a question from a journalist on the issue of migration. His opening question is: “Do you think Australia is taking in too many migrants?” The woman responds. “I don’t know. I mean, are we talking about the immigrants who look after my mother in the aged care home?” “Or the ones who come in and pick fruit for low wages so that we can have affordable fresh produce?” “Or the ones working in construction to build our housing and infrastructure?” “Or those who are training to be the medical specialists we are short of?” “I really don’t know,” she concludes, “maybe you could ask the government they should know.”

As the cartoon suggests, migration is a particularly contentious issue at the moment. In this country those who are and who are not welcome has always been a matter for political point-scoring and public debate. Elsewhere the issue of migration has reached a crisis point. Those deemed to be illegal residents of the United States are being hunted down, arrested and sent to awful prisons in impoverished third-world countries with no hope of release. And in many other nations of the world today migrants and refugees are being scapegoated for all the ills in the countries in which they find themselves. 

I am not claiming to have answers, but I often wonder why the issue has to be so divisive and polarizing. There must be a compassionate way of determining a balance between the economic needs of our country and the need to ensure that our citizens are not unduly penalized by pressure on housing, jobs and other resources. Once we have welcomed migrants or refugees we have to ensure that they are not demonized, scapegoated or used to further political agendas. 

When I read Exodus in preparation for this morning, I couldn’t help but see some parallels with the current political situation. Some background is important. The Israelites are in Egypt because a generation before they were welcomed as migrants orr refugees from a drought-ravaged country. 

You have to read from Genesis 40 to the end to get the full story, but it goes something like this. Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers – a cruel and selfish act, but one which after a time proved of benefit to his family. Joseph experienced some hard times, including being thrown in prison. However, while a prisoner, he interpreted Pharaoh’s dreams and as a result was appointed to the most powerful position in Egypt – second only to Pharaoh. Joseph was given authority to buy and store grain during seven years of plentiful harvests so that there would be sufficient food to feed not only the Egyptians, but the whole world, during seven years of famine. As predicted, the famine, when it did come, impacted a vast area, including the land in which Joseph’s father and brothers lived. 

Jacob, Joseph’s father, knew that there was food in Egypt, so he sent his sons to buy grain. After some comings and goings (you’ll have to read them for yourselves), Joseph made himself known to his brothers, insisted that they move to Egypt and offered them the land of Goshen in which to live. 

Meanwhile, the drought continued and the Egyptians, who had spent all their money on Pharaoh’s grain, were forced to offer themselves to Pharaoh as slaves in order to feed themselves and their families. Joseph not only bought their land, but he also imposed a 20% levy on everything that they grew. This means that the Egyptians are completely impoverished and totally dependent on Pharaoh. Jacob’s family meanwhile have been living on the best land, have retained their position as free men (and women), and have not been burdened by heavy taxes. They have flourished such that they have grown in number and “become so strong that the land was filled with them”.

Of course, this account is told from the perspective of the Israelites, so we do not know whether there is some exaggeration and we certainly do not know how the ordinary Egyptian felt about the situation. It is not beyond the realms of possibility that, as they were struggling with debt and facing starvation, they would have been more than a little resentful of the Israelites who, though not Egyptians, who were perceived to have received special treatment and had benefited from and been enriched at their expense. 

Joseph and his generation die – including the Pharaoh who had given Joseph’s family such a warm welcome. It is no surprise that a new Pharaoh, one who owes no loyalty to Joseph or his family, seizes an opportunity to unite a disgruntled, over-taxed people against a common enemy, to unite them in a joint cause, and to give them leave to denigrate, abuse and enslave those whose relative wealth and number has been the cause of so much bitterness.

The story of the Israelites in Egypt occurred something like 4,000 years ago, but in many essentials, the world has not changed. Millions upon millions[1] of people continue to flee their homelands as a consequence of drought, war or political persecution and they hope for a welcome in countries where there is wealth and plenty, only to find doors shut in their faces or to experience suspicion, prejudice and even fear. The account of the Israelites in Egypt under a new Pharaoh reminds us that in every age people have sought to guard their borders and their resources, have regarded outsiders with suspicion and have felt threatened when those who are supposed to be vulnerable and dependent succeed where they have not. 

Our task, as people who follow Christ, is to welcome the stranger, to break down barriers and to share what we have with those who have less. History, it seems, will always repeat itself.  We are charged with disrupting the cycle, and contributing to a society in which all are valued, all are able to offer their gifts, and in which all can live in peace and security. 


[1] 117.8 million at the end of 2025.

Arguing with Jesus – changing and being changed

August 15, 2026

Pentecost 12 – 2026

Matthew 15:10-28

Marian Free

In the name of God who is both unchanging and yet dynamic, who  listens to the greatest as to the least and whose desire is to bring all people into the kingdom. Amen.

I hope that you are not surprised to learn that Christianity is not a monolithic, static set of creeds and dogmas. Faith is not something that once set in stone, is fixed forever. Rather, faith is a relationship with the living God. It is vital, dynamic and alive which gives it a somewhat disturbing, fluid nature. This for many people (often good, faithful people) can be a very confronting notion. There are many Christians who are more comfortable with a belief system that is black and white, one which sets out clearly what to believe and how to behave, one that provides well-defined criteria against which to measure one’s place before God and one which describes a clear path to salvation.

There are a number of problems with this view. These include a) that it is not biblical, b) that it doesn’t take into account a maturing of our understanding as to what it means to be a Christian and c) that an ever-changing society requires a certain amount of flexibility and adaptation, a re-interpretation of scripture in the light of new insights and developments. This doesn’t mean that God is fickle or that God changes God’s expectations of us on a whim. It means that our understanding of God is necessarily limited and finite, whereas God is boundless and infinite. Our understanding of God grows and expands as our faith and maturity grows and expands. Like Abraham we can argue with God; like Jacob we can wrestle with God all night and, like Jesus, we can challenge long established religious practices and interpretations of the scripture and still be in relationship with God. 

Jesus upset the conventional view of faith observance and of the regulations that governed the practice of faith.  On occasions he emphasised the original intention of the law – challenging, for example, the strict censure against working on the Sabbath. At other times he defied or simply ignored existing regulations by mixing with the unclean – the lepers, the tax-collectors, prostitutes and women. In today’s gospel we see examples of both – Jesus revising what it meant to be faithful in the first century. 

The context of Jesus’ teaching today is a dispute between himself and the Pharisees regarding the purity laws. The Pharisees and scribes had observed that Jesus’ disciples did not wash before they ate, thereby breaking “the tradition of the elders”. Jesus’ response was to point out that washing was simply an outward display of ritual purity, but that washing alone did not and could not change a person’s inward state of being. Jesus drew the attention of the crowds to the real intention behind the practice of washing – which was to signify the cleansing of the heart and soul.  He made it clear that the routine observance of the law did not achieve the purpose for which it was intended. External washing alone did not render a person clean.

This exchange is followed by another quite different but related discussion. The topic is still one of ritual purity, but Jesus’ interlocutor is poles apart from the Pharisees and scribes. For unknown reasons, but perhaps for narrative effect, Matthew tells us that Jesus leaves Genesserat on the shore of the Galilee and heads towards the coast. This takes him into Gentile country which by definition is impure. On his way Jesus is accosted by a woman who is triply unclean – she is a woman, she is a Gentile and she is closely related to a person who is demon-possessed. According to Jewish law, contact with her would make Jesus unclean on any one of these grounds. 

Surprisingly, to the reader, it is as if his conversation with the Pharisees had never occurred. It would appear that despite what he has just said, Jesus has not yet generalised his views on internal versus external cleanliness. His initial reaction to the woman is that she is unclean as defined, not  by the state of her heart, but by her outward characteristics. Jesus’ reaction the woman is shocking, and not at all consistent with the Jesus we have come to know. Jesus ignores her shouting and he doesn’t censure the disciples who demand that he send her away. To add insult to injury, when Jesus finally does respond, it is to refuse the woman’s request. “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” This would not be unexpected from the Jesus who had earlier sent out the disciples with the instruction: “Go nowhere among the Gentiles, but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matt 10:5,6) but it makes no sense in the current context – especially given that Jesus put himself among the Gentiles!

Clearly, up until this point in his ministry (at least as the evangelists have recorded), Jesus has perceived his mission to be that of reforming the people of Israel. He has challenged their rule-bound behaviour and confronted their hypocrisy. He has broken their rules, and gone beyond their boundaries to demonstrate God’s inclusive, forgiving love. He is also a person of his time and in his mind Gentiles are not part of the programme. (This despite the fact that Naaman, a Gentile warrior was healed in the river Jordan at the urging of Jewish prophet. 2 Kings 5)

Significantly, the woman is desperate for her daughter to be healed and sufficiently confident of her place in the world, that she refuses to go away and refuses to be silenced. Jesus has no choice but to engage with her, even if to our ears he is more than a little rude. The woman’s argument is compelling. She has a comeback for each of Jesus’ points . In the end, Jesus reverses his position and lets go of his faith-informed prejudice and heals the daughter. The woman’s arguments have shown him that there is a different way to be and to act.

Whether Jesus’ encounter with the woman went exactly as the evangelist has recorded it, or whether it is being used in the gospels to demonstrate that it was always Jesus’ intention that Gentiles be included in the reformed people of God, this story warns us against the temptation to believe that what we hold to be true today, will be held to be true for eternity.  Throughout history the Christian church has accommodated itself to the community around it and much of what we believe, and practice is not original to Jesus . The dates on which we observe Christmas and Easter come from the pagan world in which the early church found itself and our attitudes to slavery, to people of colour, to homosexuality, to children and to divorce have all undergone reversals as we have responded to societal and scientific developments and have better understood God’s compassion and all-embracing love.

“Even the dogs eat the crumbs”.  Who are the people whom we ignore, denigrate and exclude and are we willing to accept that they have an equal place in the kingdom and that they might even have something to teach us?

Jesus is in the storm

August 8, 2026

Pentecost 10 – 2026

Matthew 14:22-36

Marian Free

In the name of God, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life- Giver. Amen.

“If God is a God of justice and not of power, then He can still be on our side when bad things happen to us. When God is not the source of our problems we can turn to God for help.”

These words in Richard Rohr’s reflection on the Book of Job during the past week caught my attention[1]. Not only are they wise, but they created a stark contrast to one of the sermon commentaries that I had read in preparation for today’s sermon. There the author suggested that Jesus had forced the disciples into the boat knowing that they would be tested by the storm and that when they were tested, they would turn to him for help. That Jesus would deliberately put the disciples in danger so that they could learn a lesson did not sit well with me.

Certainly, the Greek does say that Jesus compelled the disciples into the boat, but there is no suggestion in the text that his intention is that they should be out at sea when a storm strikes and that in their terror, they would lean on him for help. In fact, in the text it is only Peter asks for help and that is only when he has left the boat and is drowning!). The idea that God deliberately forces anyone into a situation of danger, grief or pain is alien to me. It arises from a view that God is an all-powerful, malicious entity who creates situations that ensure dependence on, and absolute obedience to him. The evidence all around us is that the God who shared human existence, and who did not save himself from the cross, is a far cry from a puppet master who delights in keeping us in a state of perpetual fear for some purpose of God’s own.

That Jesus compels the disciples to get into the boat is only one of the curious details in Matthew’s version of the storm on the lake.

Let me take you back to how the boat got to the shore in the first place. When Jesus heard of the death of John the Baptist, he got into a boat alone. That there is only one boat (which later necessitates Jesus’ walking on the water) suggests that the disciples saw the crowds and followed them by road to the deserted place. Once they arrive Jesus enlists their help and feeds the crowds. As evening falls it seems that Jesus can finally seize an opportunity to be by himself. So first of all, he sends the disciples away probably to ensure that he finally gets time to himself. That done, he dismisses the crowds.

By now it is evening and Jesus goes up the mountain alone to pray. Jesus must have prayed for a considerable time, because it is not until the fourth watch – 3-6 am that he makes his way across the lake the only way he could – by foot.

In the meantime, the disciples are still on the boat and further from their destination than ever. The journey, which was almost certainly across the top of Galilee, would normally find them close to shore and, given that the crowds got to the destination by foot, we can assume that they only had a short distance to travel. However, a storm has blown them a considerable distance out to sea, and they presumably have spent something like seven hours at sea battling a terrifying storm[2]. (The Greek word ‘basanizo’ literally translates “tormented” – they were tormented by the storm). We are told nothing about how the disciples feel, but if nothing else they must be exhausted from trying to keep the boat afloat and to keep to their course for hours on end. 

(Interestingly, there is no suggestion that they pray, or that they call out to God or even that they express a wish that Jesus was with them. Even though they have been at sea for so long, they still seem to think that getting to shore is entirely dependent on their own skills and resource.) 

It is no wonder, given their exhaustion and their self-absorption, not to mention the wind and the waves, that an approaching figure appears to them as a phantasm or spectre.

Jesus tries to reassure them, identifying himself as “I AM”, and using the words used by all divine figures in their interactions with humans: “Do not be afraid.” It is clear to the reader who this is, because we know these literary tropes. Peter, however, is not so sure but why, when the storm is raging about him, would he want to get out of the relatively safety of the boat and not wait for the figure to come to them? And why, having established that he can walk on the water, would he then falter?

We are not given the answer to these questions, probably because that is not the point of the story (which is recorded only by Matthew). Nor are we told what it was that Peter doubted, or more accurately, what caused him to be of two minds. What we are told is that Jesus is in the storm and that when Peter begins to drown and (finally) calls out to be saved, Jesus reaches out his hand and saves him!

When we examine the details of this story, we can all too readily recognise ourselves in the picture. Too often, when we find ourselves in difficulty, our first response is to try to solve the problem ourselves. There are many times when it is only when we are at our wit’s end that we acknowledge that our own resources insufficient and we, like Peter cry out: “Lord save us.”

God doesn’t create problems for us, but when problems arise, we can turn to God for help. We know only too well that Jesus doesn’t protect us from the storms of life, but Jesus is there in the midst of the storm if only we turn our eyes to him, call out to be saved and reach out to take his offered hand.


[1] Centre for Action and Contemplation, email, 5/8/2026.

[2] Assuming that it got dark (was evening) at 8pm and that Jesus reached the boat at 3am.