Archive for the ‘Advent’ Category

Being good or being godly – Joseph takes Mary as wife

December 20, 2025

Advent 4 – 2025

Matthew 1:18-25

Marian Free

With Joseph and Mary, and all the prophets and saints, may we never fear responding to the call of God, no matter how difficult, or outrageous the call. Amen.

Some of you may remember that on Advent 1 I said that being a Christian is not about being good, but about being in relationship. At the time no one challenged me so I’m thinking that we are all on the same page – that we understand that following Christ is the centre of our faith and that goodness flows from that relationship not the other way around. Goodness on its own does not build ties of loyalty, develop a depth of spirituality, encourage submission to the Creator of the universe, or create an understanding that even though we can never be good enough, we are loved and treasured just as we are. 

My view is this: being good does not in itself distinguish a Christian from a non-Christian. Anyone can be good in the conventional sense – by not breaking laws of the state or of the church, by being kind and thoughtful to others and by observing cultural norms. However, I would claim that goodness and godliness are two different things and that godliness does not always equate with goodness – in fact just the opposite. There will be times when being godly (allowing our lives to reflect the presence of God) may require us to be anything but good in the conventional sense. In fact, godliness may demand only that we ignore the norms of the society in which we live, but that we challenge and even overthrow those norms. 

For proof of this view, we need look no further than the example of Jesus, but here in the Christmas narrative are the first signs that responding to and following God does not mean following the crowd. In both Matthew and Luke, the Jesus’ story has barely begun when already we are confronted by the fact that through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus God is turning everything upside down. It is no wonder that the ‘good’ people of the day failed to see what was happening and that God was acting in ways that they hadn’t begun to imagine. 

It would appear from the gospels that the leaders of the day had begun to confuse goodness with godliness, observance of rules with relationship. For example, the Pharisees believed that if only they could get the minute details of the law right, they would be put right with God. The priestly class on the other hand appear to have relied on getting the Temple rituals right as a means of getting close to God. Society as a whole seemed to believe that not rocking the boat would enable them to keep on the right side of the Roman oppressors would. 

To be fair – they might have been misguided but they did believe that they had to put themselves right with God and they did it the only way they knew how – obedience to law and proper observance of ritual. The problem was that though they hoped that God would send a Saviour, they believed that it was their actions that would lead God to act, thus demonstrating that they had totally missed the point. Observance of rituals and law were simply evidence that, at least subconsciously, they believed that their own efforts could force God’s hand– that they, not God, were responsible for their own salvation. 

At the heart of John the Baptist’s message is the refrain: “Repent for the Kingdom of God is near”. The Greek word “metanoia” does not mean “to be sorry”, but “to turn.” Both John, then Jesus are calling the people not to be good, but to turn their lives around, to turn towards God, to live lives that demonstrate a relationship with the living God. From the very beginning faith in Jesus was never about being good, but about being godly, about allowing the divine in us to have full reign – which has nothing to do with goodness as it is usually understood.

Take the story of Joseph – whose first reaction is to separate himself from the pregnant Mary. If we forget the sentimentality that presents Joseph as holy and righteous and selfless and take a look at some hard cold facts, we see a different story. 

Joseph is minding his own business when he learns that Mary – his betrothed – is pregnant. He does not know who the father is only that it is not him.  Can you imagine how that news must have hit him? He knows the baby cannot be his, he presumably wonders if he completely misjudged Mary and he almost certainly feels cuckolded. Did Mary tell him or does he know because of the gossip that is swirling around the village? No matter how he responds his reputation has already been ruined. He will have lost face in the eyes of community. Mary’s shame will not only be his shame but will reflect on his whole family. 

Joseph was within his rights to claim compensation, to expose the situation further – even demand the legal consequences – Mary should be stoned to death. He does none of these things but resolves to quietly free Mary of her obligations to him. This will not diminish the shame but will spare Mary the added consequences of her pregnancy. Already Joseph has shown a casual disregard for the law, but when the angel appears his actions become even more radical. In response to God’s call, Joseph ignores his obligations to his church, his community and his family. He agrees to marry Mary and to raise a child who is not his own one consequence of which will be that the child will inherit and Joseph’s line may come to an end. Not only that, his actions mean that he will lose face in the eyes of his community. 

It is easy to read this as a sentimental story about an honourable man protecting his fiancé, but in the cold, hard light of a first century day, Joseph is both defying the law by not allowing Mary to be stoned to death and breaking convention through his decision to marry her regardless of the shame. But, and here’s the point, Joseph is being obedient to God even though obedience to God means disobedience to religious law, cultural norms and familial obligations.

Joseph chooses fidelity to God over observance of human law; he chooses godliness over goodness, so should we no matter the cost or the shame. 

How do we know it’s Jesus?

December 14, 2025

Advent 3 – 2026

Matthew 11:2-11

Marian Free

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

 

Recently I have come to understand the appeal of ‘the rapture’ – the idea that Jesus’ return will be accompanied by angels with trumpets and those who are considered worthy will be swept into heaven while the unworthy will be left to face the utter destruction of the world. It occurs to me that believing in the rapture makes everything so easy. When Jesus returns it will be clear that it really is Jesus – angels, trumpets and the raising of the dead will be obvious to all and are definitely not associated with any other expectation. It will it be impossible to miss the rapture (and Jesus’ return). The other advantage of the rapture is that belief in the rapture is that it has the effect of taking away personal responsibility. Somehow the belief itself  builds up confidence in believers that they are among the ones who will be gathered up because they are among the chosen.

According to this the surprise has been taken away. Jesus’ warning that the day will come as a thief in the night is conveniently ignored. The timing of the rapture can apparently be predicted. Those who believe in the rapture do not have to worry about being prepared, because they have prepared themselves simply by being members of  the believing group. (The fact as recently as this year the prediction failed to come to fruition does not seem to worry adherents, they will happily accept the explanations offered for its failure to materialise.)

Another flaw in this belief is that those who believe in the rapture also seem to think that the rapture will occur in a particular place at a particular time and that believers have to be in that place to be gathered up. This would imply that Jesus’ coming at the end of time will not be a universal, but a very limited event OR that those of us who are not in the in crowd will simply  be left behind.

I’ve been thinking about the rapture, not because some people expected it occur in September this year, but because I’ve also been pondering Jesus’ return – how it will happen and how we will know. It seems to me that if it was difficult for people to recognise Jesus in a tiny nation with a relatively small population how much more difficult will it be today when the population has blown out from 170 – 300 million to around 8.26 billion. How would the word spread? How would we know if it really was Jesus if he appeared in a place a long way distant from where we live to a people with a culture very different from ours? If say, people in Mongolia were convinced that Jesus had come among them, what would they need to do to convince the rest of us to believe them?  Even if Jesus came to a city like Brisbane with a population of nearly 3 million, most of us would only hear rumours that someone amazing was making a difference in the lives of the poor and marginalised. It would be easier not to believe that it was Jesus, easier to believe that those making the claims were simply religious fanatics.

For me this has always been a challenging issue.  We are led to expect that when Jesus comes it will be glaringly obvious – angels and trumpets making the announcement so clear that no one will miss it but is that really how it will be?

In today’s world which is surely as rife with injustice, inequality and conflict as that of the first century there are thousands of good, selfless people, risking their lives and living simply in order to bring healing and hope in places of despair and turmoil. In a time of heightened expectation (or despair) anyone of a number of today’s heroes could be named as (or could claim to be) the one sent by God.

So you see I have a great deal of sympathy for John the Baptist. His successful ministry has brought him into conflict with Herod and he is now in prison – a particularly unpleasant place to be in the first century. He will not have known what the future would bring, but it is not surprising that he is questioning his choices, asking himself if he got it right, if Jesus really was the one who was to come. (After all in his time too there were many ‘messianic’ figures.) John had handed his ministry to Jesus but he is not seeing the dramatic changes he might have expected – the nation as a whole has not turned back to God, the Romans continue their oppressive rule and Jesus is not behaving in a way that will bring about radical change. He must have wondered whether he had got it right.

Jesus’ reply echoes the words of God in the Psalms and in Isaiah, in which God’s promise is that the blind will receive their sight, the lame will walk, the lepers will cleansed, the prisoners set free, the deaf will  hear, and the dead will raised. These subtle signs are evidence of God’s presence on earth but they are signs that we might miss. It is much easier as John’s question attests to look for the more dramatic, earth-shattering signs of disruption and the heavenly signs of angels and trumpets.

If we are to know Jesus at his coming, it is essential that we come to know Jesus now, that we open our hearts and lives to his transforming love, that we seek to understand (and practice in our own lives) his preference for the marginalised, and that we are always on the lookout for signs of his presence among us now. If we are really attuned to him now not only will our lives already be lived as if he were here, but we will not fail to meet him when he returns (in glory or not).

 

Pointing beyond ourselves. Advent 2

December 6, 2025

Advent 2 – 2025

Matthew 3:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to point away from ourselves to God. Amen.

I am the first born in my family, so I have very little experience of what it is to live in someone else’s shadow. No one has ever said to me: “You’re not as clever as or as good as Marian.”  No teacher, guide leader or other adult has ever been able to compare me with a family member who came before me. No one has had unrealistic expectations of me based on what an older sibling achieved before me.  I do know that this is a realty for many younger siblings – always having to live up to some sort of standard set by the eldest, always having their own gifts and talents ignored. It is slightly different if the younger excels more than the elder but differences between siblings tend not to go unnoticed – at least by the siblings themselves.

This week I found myself wondering about John the Baptist, and whether his childhood and youth was overshadowed by that of his cousin, Jesus. John’s calling was predicted before his birth, and it is clear that by the time he was thirty he was living out his vocation and that he had a passion for God that drew a significant following (one sufficiently strong that it continues to this day). It makes you wonder: How did he feel when his younger cousin Jesus came along and started preaching the same message: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near”? 

If Luke’s account is correct John, even though he was the elder by a few months, must have always been overshadowed by Jesus.  You can imagine some of the conversations when he was growing up: “John, it is true that God has given you a role to play, but your role is to support not to outshine Jesus.” “John, I know that your father prophesied many things about you, but remember your task is to point away from yourself to Jesus. You are to prepare the way, but Jesus will be the way.”  “Yes I know that you and Jesus are the same age that he is allowed to drink, but the angel specifically said that you were not to drink wine or strong drink.”

I wonder if there were times when a teenaged John quietly raged against the expectations that were placed on him – even before he was born. I wonder too, if there weren’t times when he was furious that his younger cousin had so much more freedom, possibly even fewer expectations. Were there moments when John thought that it was simply unfair that Jesus, who didn’t even have his priestly heritage, was chosen for the more important role? Were here times when the idea that he had to serve his younger cousin simply rankled? Later, after John had begun his ministry, fired up with a desire to restore the people to their right relationship with God, calling them to turn their lives around, did he feel just a pang of resentment when Jesus came along to steal his thunder, to draw his disciples away from him and to begin a movement of his own? 

From before his birth John was destined to be the forerunner, to always be in Jesus’ shadow. Our scriptures and religious art smooth over any questions John might have had about the clear distinctions between the two but that is not to say that there were not tensions or misunderstandings. After all, prophet or not, John was a real person with real feelings and almost certainly with real failings. To make him a super human is to do him a disservice. It also diminishes his role as a model and guide to those of us who come after.

That John was very much a human being will be made evident in next week’s gospel when, despite his confidence at Jesus’ baptism, John, now in prison, begins to question whether Jesus really is the one who is to come.

In order for us to identify with John we have to see in him characteristics that we can reasonably emulate. 

Whether or not John felt the imbalance between himself and Jesus, it is clear from our gospel accounts that at least once he had begun his ministry John understood that his vocation was to prepare the way. This he does with such grace. Even as the people, including the church leaders, throng to him he resists creating his own movement but points away from himself to Jesus, with whom, he says he is not worthy to be compared. 

John may well have known his destiny from birth, but as we have the story, he was one of those rare people who was willing to allow himself to diminish so that someone else could flourish, he was able to allow someone else take the credit for the movement he had begun, and to allow that person to take his movement forward and in a different direction.

John, as we meet him in scriptures, models what it is to be people who point the way to God and who draw others into faithful relationship with Jesus. He models what it is to proclaim the one who has come and is coming. He encourages us to prepare the way for God – smoothing away the difficulties that prevent people from engaging with the faith and removing the obstacles of bad theology and bad behaviour that turns good people away. He reminds us that if others take the credit for the ground work we have done, we are to rejoice that someone has come to faith and not be resentful that we have not received praise for simply doing what we are called to do. He shows us that instead of drawing attention to our own talents and abilities, we are to encourage and build up others so that they might discover and develop their own gifts and abilities. 

In Advent we the church proclaim the coming of Jesus. May we with John, point away from ourselves so that others might see Jesus, enable others to develop and flourish (even at our own expense) and rejoice when seeds that we have sown take root and grow under someone else’s watchful eye. 

Preparing the way, is never about us but always about the one who is to come.

Be prepared – Advent 1

November 29, 2025

Advent 1 – 2026

Matthew 24:26-44

Marian Free

In the name of God who always is, Christ who came and who is to come, and the Holy Spirit who enlivens and encourages. Amen.

Advent is one of my favourite times of the year.  Though I have never been particularly efficient at opening Advent Calendars, the sense of anticipation that such calendars engender remains with me to this day.  Calendar or not, every day of Advent brings me closer to the great mystery of the Incarnation – the coming of Emmanuel, God with us. 

Sadly, I have long since given up my habit of separating Advent and Christmas, of keeping the two seasons distinct in my practice and in my mind. The commercial world which fills our stores with Christmas decorations and gifts from September, and which removes all signs of Christmas on Boxing Day makes putting up a tree on Christmas Eve and waiting till January 6 to take it down feel a little bit hollow. Even singing carols on the first Sunday after Christmas can seem somewhat strange when you know that the rest of the world is already preparing for Easter!

Many years ago, I made the decision to stop resisting the tide of change. I no longer try to hold on to traditions that are meaningless to the rest of the world. Nor do I get frustrated that an increasingly secular world has no idea about what Christmas means and that the commercial world has capitalized on the Twelve Days of Christmas by putting them before and not after Christmas. The world may change but nothing can diminish my sense of anticipation and joy as Advent approaches, and I enter once again into the sense of wonder at the birth of Jesus, the mystery of God’s vulnerability and the astounding reality of God’s becoming one of us. 

Given that Christmas celebrates God’s quiet and gentle entry into the world it seems odd that our church year begins and ends with gospel readings that appear to be a series of threats – threats of destructive forces, lawlessness, and. persecution, threats of judgement, of the impending end of the world, and threats that God will catch us unprepared as a thief during the night. We are warned, as we are today, to “keep awake” so that we can catch the thief and not be surprised. These are hardly messages that are designed to fill us with joy and excitement, but rather with terror. They seem designed to keep us on our toes, with one eye watching our back and the other scanning the horizon for danger. The message seems to be: “Be afraid, be very afraid.” Be afraid if not of judgement, but of those terrible events which will precede Jesus’ coming again.

During Advent, these messages are thankfully paired with messages of hope and renewal from the prophets, such as that from Isaiah this morning. God’s coming is associated with putting things straight. This can look like judgement and terror especially to those who resist or deny God, but the prophets assure us that God’s coming is primarily to put the world to right, to bring peace where there is no peace, to make the desert bloom, to give sight to blind, healing to the sick and release to the prisoner and to draw all people to walk in the light of the Lord. In other words, God’s coming will restore the world to that which God intended from the beginning.

What then do we make of the dire warnings that begin at the start of this chapter and which, to be honest, populate the pages of the prophets? 

Themes of destruction and restoration usually arise at times when the nation of Israel is feeling particularly vulnerable and oppressed, or when the people have wandered so far from the faith that it seems that the only possible solution is to begin with a clean slate. This was almost certainly how many people in Palestine at the time of Jesus. It must have seemed that the only way Israel could be restored would be by a dramatic intervention of God who would destroy the forces of Rome, purify Temple practices and bring about healing and peace.  

In reality, as we know, this was not how God responded. 

Today’s gospel is part of Jesus’ response to a question about the signs that will indicate that the end is near. Jesus uses language familiar to the disciples to insist that it is impossible to read the signs. Turmoil in the world is not a sign that God is near, but sign that humanity is flawed and that we live on a fragile planet. Jesus warns that those who want signs are looking for the wrong thing, are asking the wrong question. That they have to ask already indicates their failure to understand. Certainly, they want to be ready, but on their terms. By asking for signs, they reveal that they want to be able to spread out their preparations, they want to be in control. After all this time with Jesus, they have failed to understand that discipleship means giving their lives completely to God, submitting entirely to God’s will and absolutely trusting God with their future. In other words, ceding all control to God.

Scenes of chaos and destruction, images of thieves who catch a home-owner unprepared are a reminder that planning such as the disciples envisage is impossible. No one can go without sleep forever. 

The only plan is to be ready NOW – to admit that our future is in God’s hands, to surrender our lives to God in the present, to trust that whatever life throws at us, God will be with us; and to know in our hearts that if God/Jesus were suddenly to come among us we would not need to be afraid because our hearts would already be God’s, we would already be confident of God’s unconditional love and we would not hide in fear but welcome God with open arms. 

Being ready, being watchful is not the same as being afraid. Being prepared doesn’t mean planning, it means being ready now – knowing that we already beloved, just as we are. It means waiting and watching with quiet anticipation for that time when God will come and when all things including ourselves will be gathered into God’s kingdom.

God has given Godself to us. This Advent let us make sure. That we have given ourselves to God.

Elizabeth welcomes Mary

December 21, 2024

Advent 4 – 2024

Luke 1:39-35

Marian Free

In the name of God who alone can see into our hearts and who alone can judge between good and evil, right and wrong. Amen.

Many years ago, at church, I met a woman who worked as a prostitute. I’ll call her Jan. She was a remarkable person. After a powerful religious experience, she gave up drugs, alcohol and smoking! When Billy Graham came to Australia for what was to be his last visit, Jan attended a rally and was one of those who responded to the altar call. The team who were on hand to counsel and pray with those who had committed their lives to God recommended that she become a member of her nearest church. This happened to be the church where I was serving my curacy. As was the custom, the counsellor ran me to alert me to look out for Jan saying only that Jan had been at the rally and that she had made a confession of faith. 

There was no hint of judgement. No mention was made of her profession. This was something Jan shared over a meal after one of the services. She also felt safe enough to. tell the Parish Priest. You see, even though Jan had given up smoking, drinking and drugs, she was not in a position to stop working. Jan owed her drug dealers $5000 and no other way to repay them and, surprisingly, they were prepared to wait.

One day Jan rang me in tears. She was absolutely distraught. Her Christian psychologist had accused her of not being a true believer. Despite being a psychologist, he appears to have been a black and white thinker. In his mind, if Jan had truly given her life to Christ she would have given up prostitution. (He didn’t offer any advice with regard to the debt, nor did he offer to pay it for her.) Jan was made to feel worthless, worse, that she had been rejected by God.

Jan was a person of integrity. While she continued working, she refused to be baptised. (In her own mind prostitution and faith didn’t belong together.) That afternoon, it took me the best part of an hour to reassure Jan and to convince her that God knew her heart and that her faith was sincere[1].

I remember being astounded that the supporters of Billy Graham (usually from a more conservative tradition) accepted Jan just as she was and saw her as a child of God. They made no demands and withheld judgement. I was absolutely aghast that an educated, psychologist, a member of the ‘caring’ profession thought that it was in Jan’s best interest that he insinuate that she was not worthy of God’s love as long as she continued working. In so doing, this psychologist utterly undermined Jan’s confidence that she was a child of God, utterly beloved and accepted and instead left her completely bereft, uncertain of her place in the kingdom.

How different the encounter between Elizabeth and her young cousin! Mary unmarried and pregnant, a source of shame not only for Mary but for her whole family turns up unexpectedly. Elizabeth, caught up in her own untimely God-given pregnancy would have been justified in sending Mary away, or at the very least have greeted Mary with questions, cynicism and judgement. After all, if Elizabeth welcomes Mary into her home, Elizabeth is, by implication, indicating her support of Mary’s out-of-wedlock pregnancy. Instead, led by the Spirit, Elizabeth is able to see God at work in Mary’s pregnancy and to rejoice that Mary’s role was to be more significant than her own. 

We take it for granted that Elizabeth should respond to Mary in this way because that is how Luke choses to tell the story. We forget that Mary has turned up unannounced, has made a difficult journey (on her own which in itself is shocking) over a considerable distance and that Elizabeth greets her before Mary has a chance to explain herself. It would not have been at all surprising had Elizabeth thought that Mary was trying to escape her situation and her shame, hoping that her cousin would provide refuge and allow her to hide away from the prying judgement eyes of her neighbours, but Elizabeth’s openness and receptivity to the presence of God allow her to see a different story.

We live in a world that is increasing quick to judge. We are drowning in social media that provides a platform for those who want to promote their own hardline views and those who find s a sense of self-worth in condemning others. 

The encounter between Elizabeth is a reminder of how important it is that we withhold our judgement of another unless and until we are sure that we know all the circumstances behind their behaviour, more important still is to err on the side of caution unless and until we are absolutely confident that we know the mind of God. To do less might be to reject and condemn something that is the work of God or to rebuff and judge harshly someone in whom God’s will is being enacted.  

Like so many biblical accounts, the lesson to take from the meeting between two cousins is not just the miracle of recognition, but the miracle of receptivity to the work of God – in the world and in each one of us.  When we are truly open to the presence of God in ourselves and in others and when we allow our judgement to be guided by the Holy Spirit, we are better able to see all people as children of God, to love and accept them as God does, and even to recognise that God just might be teaching us something through their presence in our lives. 


[1] A year or two later Jan rang to tell me that she had given up the work and was going to be baptised.

The meaning of repentance (John the Baptist 2)

December 15, 2024

Advent 3 – 2024

Luke 3:7-18 (thoughts)

Marian Free

In the name of God who sees into our very hearts. Amen

In Advent we read the story of John in two parts- last week, John’s baptism of repentance (and his role as the voice crying in the wilderness) and this week, the response of the crowds and John’s advice. Luke’s account gives us more detail than the other gospels and (as is typical of the author of Luke) is more inclusive. Among the crowds who come out to seek baptism are the reviled – the tax collectors and soldiers, persons associated with the Roman occupation, corruption, and extortion – those whom we might expect to be judged as unsuitable for the kingdom (guilty of the unforgivable).

Interestingly, John doesn’t exactly welcome the crowds – the exact opposite in fact. Listening to him speak to the crowds, you would think that he had no interest at all in ‘preparing the way’. When he addresses the people, John’s language is accusatory, direct. There is no subtlety or middle ground for John, the wild man of the desert.

Despite his preaching a message of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, he does not appear to appreciate the response he has received. He is in no mood to offer baptism to just anyone. He questions the sincerity of those who have come out to find him, he doesn’t seem to accept that they have responded to his message, have acknowledged their failings and are ready to repent. He wonders if they are simply self serving, if it is self interest, not genuine repentance that draws them into the desert. John calls them a brood of vipers, asks who warned them to flee from the wrath to come, and insists that their repentance be demonstrated through their actions so that it is evident that they are not simply intent on saving their skins, but really have determined to turn their lives around.

John goes even further. He challenges any idea his listeners might have that their Jewishness might help to save them – “even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees” to thin out those that don’t bear fruit. He warns that: “God can raise up children to Abraham from these stones”. (What matters – as Paul will later make clear – is not a person’s heritage (Jew or Gentile) but their relationship with God.)

Clearly he has put the wind up his audience. It seems that his attack on them has had an effect. Their easy confidence has been shattered. They are all concerned that they understand what John means by repentance, what it means to bear good fruit. The crowds, the tax-collectors, and the soldiers are all anxious to do the right thing. Each in turn ask what it is they must do, in other words what would true repentance look like for them. In each instance John’s advice is practical and doable. He doesn’t suggest that they reach for the impossible or demand that they do something that will lead to their lives being impoverished. What is more, John’s responses are tailor made for his questioners. While there is an underlying theme – that they show by their actions their concern for others, things that will not only show that they are sincere, but which will bring them peace of mind, the actions demanded of each group are particular to their situation.

In response to the question of the crowds: “What shall we do?” John encourages generosity. Those with more than enough should share with those who do not. In response to the tax-collectors’ question: “What shall we do?” John tells them to only collect what they are required to collect (not to enrich themselves at the expense of others). In response to the question of the soldiers: “What shall we do?” John advises that they should be content with what they earn and not extort money by threats or false accusations. In effect, John is saying to them all: “be satisfied with what you have, do not strive to have more than you need, and above all do not try to enrich yourselves at the expense of others.”

You will no doubt have noticed that Luke’ focus is on wealth. Repentance is repentance for having (or wanting to have) more than enough.

“What should we do?”

This Advent as we prepare our hearts for the coming of God among us (as he did and as he will) let us strive to live lives that are authentic, generous and just, let us endeavour not to hold on to our possessions but to be generous towards those who have less and, recognising God’s abundant generosity towards us, let us be content, indeed more than content with what we have.

 

Preparing the way

December 7, 2024

Advent 2 – 2024

Luke 3:1-6

Marian Free

In the name of God who constantly surprises and whose presence and purpose catch us off guard. Amen.

 

It is said that Albrecht Durer’s sculpture of his brother’s praying hands was a tribute to the sacrifices that Enders, also an aspiring artist, made on behalf of Albrecht. The family who were goldsmiths did not have enough money for both brothers to become artists, so Endres remained at home while Albrecht went to Art School. The story goes that when Albrecht returned and saw the gnarled hands of his brother, he asked him to pose as if in prayer. The result was a carving that has been much copied in 3D and as a drawing/painting.

There are many stories of people who foster the talent of another – sometimes at the cost of their own work. It is possible that Australian author Charmaine Cliff may have been a more prolific author had she not married George Johnston and supported his writing career sometimes at the expense of her own. Parents often put the needs of their children before their own ambitions. In bygone eras women were expected to prioritize their spouses’ career no matter how talented, educated or intelligent they were. Others, recognizing their husband’s gifts sometimes took a step back and of course, there have always been men who encouraged and supported women whose contribution to knowledge, medicine, art they saw as more important than their own careers.

Sometimes such sacrifices build resentments and disappointment but often they are derived from a genuine belief in the other’s giftedness and a real desire to see them succeed and to contribute to their craft, the advancement of knowledge and so on.

An alternative – chosen by most couples in todays world – is that both members of a partnership make compromises so that each may flourish, even if it means that, at least for a time, neither flies as high as they might.

John the Baptist is something of an anachronism. He appears, seemingly out of nowhere, an obscure ‘prophet’ living in the wilderness – possibly known only to a few. Only Luke provides any backstory – his miraculous conception and his naming – but even then we know nothing of his childhood or early adulthood. What we are told is that the word of God came to him in the wilderness and propelled him to travel throughtout Judea proclaiming a baptism of repentance.

It is not even clear that he proclaimed the coming of Christ – only that he announced the coming of God’s wrath.

Just as there was no adequate Old Testament image for Jesus the Christ, so there was no exact model for John the forerunner. The gospel writers, knowing that John emerged from the wilderness, used the only OT text that seemed to fit – a voice in the wilderness. Isaiah’s voice proclaimed disruption and chaos. John, however, preached repentance for forgiveness. He didn’t preach the coming of Jesus, but the coming of God’s wrath. As there was no image that was an easy fit for John, the evangelists seem to have found a text that referred to a voice in the wilderness – even if that voice declared God’s violent, disruptive, world-shaking coming into the world to set things right, rather than the quiet coming of a gentle, forgiving, inclusive, peasant from Galilee.

John had a number of roles in the gospels, none of which are presaged in the Old Testament. He prepared the hearts of the people so that they would acknowledge and repent their failure to live in relationship with God. John was used a a scene setter. He prepared the stage for Jesus, making it clear to the readers of the gospels that Jesus didn’t emerge in a vacuum. God had sent someone before him, preparing the way, turning hearts of God (and maybe making them aware of their shortcomings). John’s role was to make it clear that Jesus was not unexpected. He was announced (at least at his baptism) and that therefore the people had no excuse for not recognising him.

A third role fulfilled by John was that of putting his own interests last, allowing Jesus to flourish, enabling Jesus to fulfill his destiny. John appears to have been secure in his own role. Despite having developed a substantial following of his own, he was not seduced by the headiness of success into forming his own movement or into going into competition with Jesus. He knew himself to be the forerunner- not the Christ. His task as he saw it was to ensure that the hearts of the people were turned to God, open to God’s presence in the world, to build within them a sense of hopeful expectation and to enable them to recognise the Christ even though the Christ would look and act like one of them. He would point away from himself in the direction of Jesus no matter the cost to himself.

Advent and Christmas are overlaid with so much tradition and myth that sometimes we miss what the scriptures are really saying. Sometimes we create a story around John that is not necessary justified by the text.

This Advent, may we see beyond the myth of the wild man in the desert, to the humble, self-effacing prophet who knew his role and who was content to live out his role, without striving to be anything more. May we learn from John the importance of knowing ourselves and may we try to be true to ourselves – not competing with or trying to emulate others.

 

 

 

Your redemption is drawing near.

December 4, 2024

Advent 1 –  2024 (belated thoughts)

Luke 21:25-38

Marian Free

In the name of God, whose presence, sometimes barely perceptible, is always here if we open our eyes to see. Amen.

I am the daughter of a biologist and while I didn’t always appreciate it, I was taught to pay attention to the natural world – droplets on the female gingko (waiting to be pollinated), the tiny buds of green presaging the onset of spring after a long winter, the bird’s nest almost hidden from view – the wonders of nature that are often passed unnoticed. I am the daughter too of a mother who would take us walking after rain so that we could see how the river had grown, and the hyacinth filled its lower reaches. In my adult life I have been so grateful to have a sense of hopeful expectation whenever I am in the natural world or even my own garden, to have a sense of wonder at the power and changeability of the world around me.

Be alert at all times – or you will not notice the signs of life and growth that signal new beginnings.

Today gospel urges us to pay attention, to take notice of what is happening around us, to note the smallest detail and to grasp the broader picture. It comes at the end of long chapter on the tragedies and traumas that were being experienced and witnessed by those to whom Jesus was speaking and by for whom the gospel was written. In the time of Jesus people of Israel had been under the domination of Rome or other nations for centuries (with only a short break), the Temple was considered to be corrupt, and its priests were Roman appointments and the people were burdened with taxes and had had their lands confiscated. Luke is writing at a time when the Jewish revolt had been brutally and completely crushed, the Temple (that splendid symbol of God’s presence) and even Jerusalem had been razed to the ground and the link between early beliefs and their Jewish roots had been irrevocably broken.

In the 60s earthquakes had destroyed many of the cities in the eastern Mediterranean. Many will have lost homes, income and family members. To some it must have seemed that there was no hope for the future, much that they had assumed would last forever had been destroyed.

Be on your guard, these things must take place.

It would be easy to fall into despair given the current state of the world, to feel that God has abandoned the world to its own devices, to wonder if God is going to let the world run headlong into destruction

We are living in times of great uncertainty. The reality of human nature – the greed, selfishness and desire for power that feeds conflict and civil unrest, the unpredictability of the planet which has been worsened by our own actions and the frailty of the human body are the constant background of our lives.

“Heaven and earth will pass away but my words will not pass away.” 

Today’s gospel reading can be read as a warning to be constantly on our good behaviour, anxiously awaiting the coming of a fierce tyrannical judge, or it can be seen or, as I choose to read, it it is a message of hope, a call to steadfastness in the midst of and despite the chaos and to see the signs of God’s presence in the small things.

Jesus seems to be reminding us that faith is not about the big dramatic interventions of God in the world, nor is faith dependent on miraculous events, faith is not a panacea against all the ills in the world. Faith is not a shallow, superficial fix-it or nor is it a way of warding off trouble. Faith is a stable centre in the midst of instability, a still small voice in the centre of the storm, a firm a bed-rock in shaky ground.

The kingdom is near – notice the signs (however small). Be on your guard – don’t be so distracted by what’s going on around you that you take your eyes off God (and what God’s doing). Be alert – because God’s presence is all around you – in the budding fig, the smile of a child, the small acts of kindness, the generosity of a stranger. The world might fall apart around you but your redemption has been won/is drawing near. If everything seems to fall away remember that the words of Jesus will never fall away.

So, no matter how bad things seem to be, hold fast to faith, ground yourself in the love of God, notice God’s presence everywhere.

This Advent, in a world which is increasingly volatile and unpredictable, don’t let yourself be overwhelmed by fear and anxiety- see the fig tree, know that your redemption is near, know that my Jesus’ words are the ground on which we stand.

 

 

 

 

 

Open to possibility, Mary’s “yes” to God

December 23, 2023

Advent 4 – 2024

Luke 1:26-38

Marian Free

In the name of God who gives us courage to face life’s challenges and who through them brings new things to birth. Amen.

When I told my mother that I was expecting a third child her first reaction was to ask: “Was it planned?” It was not that she was not happy for me, but she wanted to be able to support me if I’d been caught off guard and if my life-plans had been turned upside down by this turn of events. She knew that an unexpected pregnancy would bring with it all kinds of anxieties like – can I/we afford another child? will I/we need a new car? how will this impact on my/our older children? will it make a difference to my/our career? what will other people think? 

Those are the questions and then there are the realities. Even if a pregnancy is planned or greeted with joy it comes with significant discomfort – morning sickness, swollen ankles, and the discomfort of another body inhabiting one’s own. After the birth, there are the sleepless nights, the nappies, and the constant demands not to mention the multitude of accessories that go with infancy.  My pregnancy was planned, as was the new car, but for many people news of pregnancy is not a joyful experience, rather a time of confusion and fear. I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like to know that you are carrying a child and to know that it is the last thing that you want.

Luke’s brief account of the Annunciation carries none of the emotion that one might expect to accompany such momentous news. It is a highly romanticised depiction of an event which seriously understates the terror that an angel would inspire and which ignores the possibility that Mary might have experienced any disquiet at such an unexpected announcement.  Remember, Mary is young and unmarried, far from ready to take on the responsibility of pregnancy and motherhood.  She lives in a culture in which she could be stoned for adultery and, out of the blue, an angel pops by with some shocking, incomprehensible news. “You are favoured by God and by the way, God will demonstrate how favoured you are by making you pregnant in a culture that could stone you to death for being pregnant outside marriage.”  

Note that Mary is not offered a choice, she is simply told how things are. The angel goes on to tell Mary what her son will be, but he gives her no suggestions as to how she might manage the situation – how to break the news to her parents – let alone to Joseph, how to face her neighbours’ contempt and judgment and above all, how she is to manage as a single mother.

From now on Mary’s life will be irrevocably changed (possibly for the worse) and Luke expects us to believe that she simply bowed her head and said: “OK whatever God wants”. I wonder how many women, let alone girls, you know who would be so unperturbed by the angel’s perplexing and terrifying announcement?

While Luke’s account does tell us something about Mary’s humble submission to God’s will, might it not also be challenging us to consider how we respond to interruptions to our plans, asking us to think about how we might adjust, adapt, and even see God’s hand in life-altering events, especially those that at first glance appear to be calamitous. I’m thinking of devastating diagnoses, destructive natural disasters, traumatic ends to relationships, loss of a child, termination of a job, or any number of things for which we do not (cannot) plan, but which dramatically alter our life’s trajectory.

When we receive unwelcome news we usually go through a number of stages – disbelief then fear or anger, and then acceptance or resistance. In my experience, people of faith almost always choose acceptance. No matter how awful the circumstances, we find strength in the knowledge that God is with us and will give us the courage to carry on. We know too that the God who created the universe out of nothing and who brings life from death, is able to transform tragedy into possibility, and “to conceive hope in the midst of every tragic loss.”[1] In retrospect we can see the seeds of new birth in what appeared to be the death of all our hopes and dreams. As our lives take on a completely different direction, we grow in ways that we had never imagined and which, had we continued on our previous trajectory, would have been impossible.

Let me be plain, we do not have a fickle God who inflicts pain and sends disasters to shock us out of our selfish ways, rather God is a very real presence in times of upheaval. God stands with and beside us, ready to pick us up and to walk with us even through the valley of death. Circumstances may force us to radically re-evaluate our lives, which as a consequence of illness or loss are irrevocably change. But, if we are open to the Holy Spirit, we may witness God bringing to birth something completely new and unexpected, that would not have come to fruition without the tragedy that preceded it..

When the angel appeared to Mary, her world was turned upside down. Her initial terror turned to confusion and finally to acceptance. It is her acceptance that life is not going to be the way she planned that opens her to the possibility that the alternative (with God’s help) might be OK, and frees her to get on with the business of living.

Ultimately, we are not in control.  We cannot plan our lives to the last detail.  When things do not go as expect, we have a choice. We can resist change and rail against God and the universe, or we simply bow our heads and, like Mary say “Yes”, put our lives into the hands of the living God, and believie against all evidence to the contrary that our present pain and confusion will bring to birth something new and life-giving. Our “yes” to life’s circumstances, however awful, mirrors Mary’s “yes” to the angel’s awesome news and allows God to bring to birth new possibilities for ourselves and, in some cases, for the world.

Love

            Margaret Wesley (Rector Parish of Ashgrove)

This Christmas, may love be born in you,

As he was in Bethlehem,

To parents unprepared for such a gift

(Since, who could be?)

May love find you unprepared yet willing 

To receive its smiles and tears,

Its painful truths and gentle silences,

Its gifts and sacrifices.

This Christmas, may love be

The awkward guest at your table,

And in the New Year may it take your hand

And lead you into the street to dance with your neighbours.


[1] I am grateful to Dr M.  Craig Barnes for introducing another perspective. https://nationalpres.org/sermons/how-can-this-be/

“I am not” John the Baptist gives way to Jesus

December 16, 2023

Advent 3 – 2023

John 1:6-8. 19-28

Marian Free

In the name of God who formed us in the womb and who calls us. Amen.

One of the features of today’s gospel is the dominance of negative expressions.  By that I mean that the two short passages consist primarily of negatives. The reading focuses on the mission of John the Baptist and yet it focuses much more on what John is not, rather than on who and what John is. In the first section, (v8) the narrator informs us that: “John himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.” In the second part of the reading, John’s responses to the priests and Levites sent from Jerusalem, become more and more clipped[1]. In answer to questions about who he is, John replies: “I am not the Christ, I am not (Elijah), and simply “no” (to the question as to whether he is the prophet.) In Greek and English, John replies with 5 words, 3 words and finally one word. Even the use of language makes the point – he, John is not the one they are looking for. (He will decline and Jesus will increase.)

Of course, I hear you say, that is how it is meant to be. John’s role was to be the forerunner. He knew that he was not the Christ.

For the moment though, I am asking you to put away your tidy preconceptions – that John was Jesus’ cousin, destined to be in Jesus’ shadow, that John’s parents were good and pious Jews of priestly families, that John knew from birth what his role was. This is a view that is supported only by the author of Luke whom it suits to have parallel stories of the two men.

Let’s imagine, as the other gospels do, that John suddenly appears on the scene, driven by the Spirt to call people back to God. In response, he adopts the identity of a prophet (or even of a messiah)[2] and proclaims, “a baptism for the forgiveness of sins”. Whatever drove him into the wilderness, John appears to have picked up on the Zeitgeist of the time – dissatisfaction with Temple worship and with the priests who were puppets of Rome and a longing for Israel to turn to God and to be restored. Certainly, his presence and his message touched a chord, for according to Mark, people from the whole Judean countryside and from Jerusalem made the journey into the wilderness to hear him and be baptised by him. Even the Temple leadership and the Pharisees felt compelled to come and see what he was about, to query whether he might be the expected Christ and even to seek baptism.

This is heady stuff. A lesser person might have allowed such success to go to their head. A lesser person might have thought that the reaction of so many people (Including the religious leaders) was a sign that God had sent him to call people to repentance. A lesser person might have been resentful that Jesus was turning up to steal the limelight to take over the movement that he had so successfully begun. Whatever John’s background or sense of call, he could have made the situation all about him, about his call and his ministry – after all (at this point in time) he had followers and disciples, and Jesus did not. It would have been easy for John to continue with the work that he had begun – turning the hearts of the people towards God.  But John does none of these things. Instead, he points the people (even his own disciples) towards Jesus and allows himself to fade from view. 

In putting himself second, John is not engaging in false modesty or cynical self-abasement. He is not suffering from a lack of confidence or a damaged ego. Rather, by refusing to allow personal ambition and pride to drive him, John is able to be his God-given self and to fulfill the role to which God had appointed him. John could genuinely rejoice in and support the ministry of Jesus, because he was secure in the knowledge of himself – his role, his gifts, and abilities. He did not need to compete with Jesus or to be anything or anyone other than who he knew himself to be. 

More than that, John’s willingness to let go and to allow Jesus to continue, makes John, not only the forerunner of the Christ, but the first to model what it means to die to self in order to live to God. John’s life and ministry shows that it is not only possible, but necessary to submit one’s own desires, ambitions to the will of God, that it is not only possible but necessary, to measure one’s achievements by kingdom values, not earthly values, and that it is not only possible, but necessary, to shed our self-identity, in order that God may be fully formed in us.  

John was able to give way to Christ because he had already surrendered his life to God. 

As we come to the end of this Advent season, may we surrender our earthly desires, so that we may seek only the joy and peace that comes from the presence of God in our lives, may we examine our lives, and empty ourselves of anything that prevents Christ from being born in us and may we let go of our need to be in control so that the Spirit might lead us wherever she wants us to go. 


[1] Frederick Dale Bruner, quoted in the Advent resources provided by the Centre for Excellence in Preaching.

[2] Jesus was far from the only messianic figure in first century Palestine.