Archive for the ‘Easter’ Category

Do you love me?

May 3, 2025

Easter 3 – 2025

John 21:1-19

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who meets us where we are and asks only that we love in return.  Amen.

I have just finished reading an extraordinary book, A Terrible Kindness, by Jo Browning Wroe. It tells the tale of one William Lavery who is the son of a funeral director and who is gifted with a beautiful voice. William’s father dies when he is quite young, and his mother reacts by withdrawing from his father’s brother who is his partner in the funeral business. William receives a place in a choral school in Cambridge where he meets the exuberant Martin with whom he becomes firm friends. On the night when William is due to sing The Misère – what would have been the high point of his time in Cambridge -something awful happens and he cannot sing. He blames his mother, leaves the college, forswears singing, moves in with his uncle, and, as soon as he is old enough he trains to be an embalmer.

 

In Aberfan, Wales, a colliery spoil tip collapsed swallowing up homes and the local school. One hundred and forty people died including 116 children. In the novel, William, who has just completed his training, volunteers to prepare the dead for their funerals. Wroe describes this event with great sensitivity and also its impact on her fictional character William who is deeply traumatised by the sight of so many small, crushed bodies and determines never to have children. His girlfriend, Gloria insists that she will marry him even with that caveat.

 

The early death of his father, his mother’s coolness towards his uncle, an awkward moment with Martin, and the tragedy at Aberfan lead William to make a number of disastrous choices – he cuts off his mother, turns his back on Martin, gives up his love of choral music and finally leaves Gloria who has been steadfast in her love, her understanding and support.

 

What is extraordinary, and what I didn’t fully notice until I had finished reading the book was the unconditional love that William received from all the other characters. His abandoned mother leaves the door open for a reunion, his uncle and partner take him in and never chide him for his hardness of heart, Martin (who is deeply hurt by William’s betrayal and desertion) doesn’t reproach him when they meet again years later, and Gloria allows William back into her life when he comes to his senses. Unlike William, not one of the characters has built up a grudge that would prevent them from welcoming him back into their lives.

 

As I say, the author does labour this point, it is just how she tells the story, but when I read this morning’s gospel it seemed to me that deliberately or not, she had drawn a compelling account of unconditional love, much like the love Jesus extends to Peter in this morning’s gospel.

 

If you remember, Peter who had been adamant that he would not abandon Jesus, even that he would lay down his life for Jesus (Jn 13:17), not only abandoned him to face Pilate alone, but denied three times that he even knew him. In this, the last of John’s resurrection appearances, Jesus prepares breakfast for his friends – all of whom had vanished into the night when he was arrested. After the resurrection the disciples who were at a loose end, decided to go fishing. When they were returning to shore empty handed the Beloved Disciple recognised Jesus on the beach. Immediately Peter leapt out of the boat and waded to shore. He was delighted to see Jesus and is obviously confident that Jesus was not holding his failures against him.

 

Indeed Jesus, who has already appeared to the disciples, shows no indication that he in any way holds them accountable for their desertion, nor Peter for his denial. What Jesus does, is to enable Peter to affirm his love for Jesus. Much has been made of the three questions and the use of different Greek words for love[1] but what seems to be key here is that Jesus is giving primacy to relationship over cowardice. Jesus understands human frailty and his prediction of Peter’s denials demonstrate how well he knew his disciples. In this, his final act, Jesus doesn’t ask Peter to repent, he doesn’t try to make Peter accountable, and he certainly doesn’t withdraw from Peter his unconditional love. What Jesus does do, is to remind Peter of Peter’s love for Jesus. Instead of breaking the relationship, Jesus asks Peter to remember the relationship – a relationship which, from Jesus’ side is constant and unbreakable.

 

As in the novel, William comes to his senses and returns to bask in the love of those on whom he has turned his back, so Peter is fully brought back to himself by having to remind himself three times that (despite his denials) he does love Jesus.

 

Our gospel accounts of the life of Jesus finish with this extraordinary reminder – that we are loved by God wholeheartedly, unconditionally and endlessly, and that no matter what we do, or how far we stray, we will still be loved, if only we can recall how much we love God. God created us for love therefore we are loveable and who are we to de y ourselves or anyone else of that love? God’s love does not demand that we are flawless, it leaves no room for self-reproach, and draws from us the love God seeks in return.

 

“Do you love me?” “Yes, Lord I do.”

 

 

 


[1] Michael Lattke, my Phd supervisor argues that there is no deeper meaning to the use of different words.

Remember- Jesus’ resurrection body

April 26, 2025

Easter 2 – 2025

John 20:19-31

Marian Free

In the name of God who in Jesus touched and was touched. Amen.

During Jesus’ last week in Jerusalem, his last week of being physically present on earth, his friend Mary anointed his feet with expensive ointment and wiped them with her hair – an act of touch so intimate that it is almost embarrassing to contemplate. A few days later the tables are reversed when (in the middle of a meal) Jesus gets up and washes and dries the feet of his disciples (another intimate, boundary breaking act). Having one’s feet cradled and smoothed by another creates a strong contrast with the way in which Jesus’ body was brutally flogged, cruelly crowned and horrifically nailed to the cross.  

These accounts, gentile and loving, cruel and hateful, tell us that Jesus inhabited a real body, that he had a physical, earthly presence that could be fed and starved, alone and pressed in upon, gently wiped andpitilessly hammered.  

It is interesting to note that many of the resurrection accounts continue this theme of Jesus’ physical presence.  Not only could Jesus be seen by the disciples, but he could eat, and he could touch and be touched. Apart from Mark whose ending is very abrupt, each gospel includes an account which emphasises the physicality of the risen Jesus. According to Matthew, the women hold Jesus’ feet, likewise in John, Magdalene reaches out to touch Jesus. In Luke’s gospel, Jesus sits down to a meal and breaks bread in front of the unsuspecting disciples. When Jesus returns to Jerusalem and appears to the disciples he not only invites them to touch (to prove that he is not a ghost), but he asks for something to eat and is given fish which he eats in their presence (Lk 24:42,3).  Here, in John, when Jesus breaks in to the locked room, he demands that the disciples look at the scars in his hands and feet. When Jesus appears a second time to appease Thomas, he not only shows scars, but invites JThomas to touch.

Of course, we have no idea of the nature of Jesus’ resurrection body. Even though it is reported that he could be touched and that he could eat, he could apparently appear out of nowhere and transport himself through time and space (Luke 24). Given that the stories were retold many times before the evangelists committed them to paper, we cannot be sure how much (or how little the stories) were embellished. However, we can be absolutely certain that in some way that is impossible to explain or even understand, Jesus, who was declared dead on a Friday afternoon, was very much alive from early Sunday morning.

The nature of Jesus’ resurrection body has been a matter for much scholarly debate, but I don’t want to focus on that today. This morning, I would like to reflect on the evangelists’ emphasis on Jesus’ physicality and the possibility that means something other than a need to prove that Jesus really did rise.

As I pondered on the texts that we have read over the past few weeks and as I considered the importance of the fleshly physical nature of Jesus’ earthly body, I wondered if one of the reasons for emphasising this in the post-resurrection appearances was to make sure that we didn’t forget, that we didn’t/don’t allow ourselves to spiritualise Jesus, that we don’t somehow put the earthly Jesus at one remove from us, that we don’t diminish his humanity and focus instead on his divinity. 

Do the gospels focus on touch in the week leading up to the resurrection and in the post-resurrection accounts to make sure that in the centuries following these events that we would never lose sight of the fleshly, physicality of Jesus’ earthly body? Is their emphasis on touch a way of ensuring that we do not make the risen Jesus remote and untouchable, unable to relate to our experiences of hunger and being fed, exhaustion and being rested, sorrow and joyfulness?

Is it even possible that Jesus himself emphasised the physical so that we would remember that he knew what it was like to suffer, to fear and to be abandoned. Did Jesus appear in a physical body to ensure that we would remember that he was once one of us and that just as he was real, so too we should be real. Jesus’ fleshly, physicality resurrection presence is a constant reminder that being human, having human needs and responding with human emotions is not something of which to be ashamed.

If we spiritualise Jesus, deny the physicality of his resurrection body, we are in danger of making him into someone with whom we cannot identify, someone other than us. We face the real danger that by spiritualising him we create a divine figure whose standards of perfection we can never reach.

Maybe, just maybe, Jesus’ resurrected body could touch and was touched, so that we would never lose sight of his earthly body.

Maybe Jesus is saying: “I was real, I was here, I was just like you.  Remember, remember, remember.”

A matter of touch (or not) – Christ is risen

April 19, 2025

Easter Day – 2025

Luke 24:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God whom death could not defeat and whom the tomb could not contain. Amen.

There is a beautiful movie made in Japan titled “Departures”. It is not, as I imagined, about a travel agency, but about a funeral company. A cellist, Daigo, is forced to take a job with a funeral company when his contract with an orchestra is terminated. At first he will not even share the news of his new job with his wife because those who handle the dead were considered “unclean” and by virtue of their “uncleanness” were prevented from mixing with other people. By association, the Daigo’s wife would also have been treated as a pariah. What Daigo learns by observation and practice, is that it is a privilege to prepare the bodies of the dead for burial. Through the film, we are given an insight into the gentleness, care and reverence that it taken with the deceased and with Daigo (and then his wife) understand that really it is an honourable profession – a gift to the provider of the service as well as to the beneficiary.

The practice of preparing bodies for death has become the province of funeral directors in Western nations, but there are still people who insist on performing this last intimate, and personal ritual for a loved one.

Our readings for the past week have highlighted intimacy and touch. We began two weeks ago with the account of Mary anointing Jesus’ feet with costly oil and then wiping his feet with her hair. Maundy Thursday recounts Jesus’ kneeling before the disciples and washing and drying their feet. Then in contrast to the gentle intimacy of these acts, Good Friday reminds us how Jesus’ body was handled roughly, and brutally by men who did not know him, whose touch was not a sign of intimacy, but of domination and indifference. Finally, the feet that were anointed by Mary and the hands that washed the feet of the disciples were fixed to a cross with nails. To add insult to injury Jesus’ broken, bloodied body was hurried wrapped and placed in a tomb – denied the reverent washing and anointing that was the custom[1].

In a culture in which the body is washed, anointed and wrapped shortly following death – a final act of love – it must have been awful for the women to watch Jesus’ torn and shattered body placed in a tomb without ceremony and to have known that it would be at least thirty-six hours before the ritual cleansing and anointing could begin – by which time the blood would have dried and the bones forever out of shape. For the women, women who had followed him all the way from Galilee and who had supported him from their own pockets, the grief experienced by Jesus’ death would have been compounded by the abruptness of his burial, a burial with no ceremony and little preparation. As he was torn away from them by his arrest and crucifixion, so now he is quickly removed from their reach.

It is no surprise that, at early dawn, as soon as the day of rest had ended, the women found themselves at the tomb, ready to say their final ‘goodbyes”, to do what had been denied them two nights ago. They have come to wash his body, to massage it with oils, and to touch Jesus one last time.

BUT in this week in which touch has been so important, touch is now denied the women who followed him to the cross and stood by while he died. The tomb is open and the body, the precious body gone; gone. The tomb is empty because Jesus is not dead, and not being dead, does not require the ministration of the women. Were they still bereft? Were they further traumatised? We do not know. We do not even know if the women ever see Jesus, let alone touch him again. Their part in the story ends here. 

The emphasis on touch in the weeks leading up to Jesus’ resurrection warns us not to lose sight of the fact that Jesus fully embodied our physical, fleshly form, that he was able to touch and be touched in ways that demonstrated his love for and his desire to be close to us. As we rejoice in the resurrection, and in the imperishability of Jesus’ risen body, let us not abandon the earthly reality of the Jesus that sought (and seeks) intimacy with us. The tension between the physical Jesus and the risen Christ reminds us that the risen Christ is not aloof and remote, but that the risen, ascended Jesus is the Jesus who was totally present, totally engaged and who wants to be in relationship with us.

We cannot touch, but we can remember that once he was touched and that he could touch.

Christ is risen.

He is risen indeed!


[1] At least Jesus’ body was claimed for burial. Most victims of crucifixion were unceremoniously tossed into a pit.

Christ is alive (today!)

April 13, 2024

Easter 3 – 2024

Luke 24:36b-48

Marian Free

In the name of God who meets us on the road and inflames our hearts with the Holy Spirit. Amen.

There have been a number of attempts to tell the gospel story through drama, film or musical. I think of Godspel, Jesus Christ Superstar, Jesus of Montreal, and The Passion of the Christ to name a few. Each has contributed to making the story relevant for a new generation.  Where they fall down, I believe, is in their attempt to portray the resurrection. Jesus of Montreal, which tells the story of a modern-day Passion play. When the lead player (Jesus) is killed in an accident, his organs are donated and we are to understand that he lives on in those whose lives he saved. Mel Gibson concludes the Passion of the Christ with the depiction of a ghost-like figure rising from the ledge and leaving the tomb.

One reason that the resurrection is so hard to depict is that there were no eye-witnesses to the actual event. Jesus was dead and then he was not. There was no one to tell us how the crucified and very dead Jesus, was re-enlivened three days later.  Mark, Luke and John tell us that when the women arrive to anoint Jesus the tomb is already open and Jesus gone. Matthew tells us that the women witness the rolling away of the stone, and that angels tell them that Jesus is not there. Accounts of the risen Jesus are few and those that we have are vague and contradictory. Paul tells us simply that Jesus appeared to the twelve and then to 500. Mark tells us that angels told the women that Jesus had been raised, but that the women were too frightened and amazed to tell anyone. In Matthew the disciples see the risen Jesus in Galilee where he commissions them for ministry before ascending into heaven. Only Luke and John report more detailed encounters with the risen Jesus. 

Last week we read of Jesus’ appearance in a locked room and of a second appearance a week later for the sake of Thomas. Today we read Luke’s version of what is presumably the same event.  There are a number of similarities which lead to this conclusion. In both accounts Jesus appears at a place where the disciples are gathered, and in both Jesus shows them his scars to convince them that it is really him. Both authors seem to at pains to emphasise Jesus’ bodily presence despite his ghostly. He might be able to appear and disappear at will, but his scars can be touched, and he is able to eat the fish that is provided. 

I suspect that the reason why there are so few accounts of the risen Christ is that 

the first disciples struggled to put into words an experience that was totally without precedence. It is clear that the disciples were convinced that Jesus was alive, but while Jesus was the same, he was also very different from the earthly Jesus. His body bore the scars of crucifixion, but the risen Christ could apparently appear and disappear at will. The first disciples, and therefore the Evangelists had to find a way to share with others something that was incomprehensible, but  which they knew to be true.  This situation was undoubtedly made more complicated by the fact that Jesus didn’t hang around. The first disciples want to share with others their conviction that Jesus had risen from the dead, that he was alive and present with them, but Jesus – still alive – had ascended into heaven. How much easier it would have been if the risen Jesus had continued his work of teaching and healing! How much easier would it have been if people other than the disciples had seen him! How much easier would it have been if they could point to Jesus working in their midst! The disciples are trying to share with the world that Jesus is alive when there is no living, breathing Jesus to show them.

Perhaps the disciples began by sharing their experiences with others who had known and followed Jesus: “he appeared to us even though the doors were locked”, “he was walking beside us on the road”, “he showed us his scars”, “he broke bread”, “he ate some fish” in our presence.  That there are so few stories may reflect the fact that the conviction that Jesus was alive was so powerful that others couldn’t help but believe that it was true. Even those who didn’t see the risen Jesus, experienced his risen presence in a such a way that they couldn’t keep the experience to themselves. Jesus was just there among them, nothing more needed to be said. Even though Jesus had ascended into heaven sufficient people were convinced that in some inexplicable way that the risen Christ was still present with them, that others began to know and experience Jesus’ risen presence.

This, I contend, is why we continue to believe in the resurrection. We do not need to rely on historical records, or firsthand accounts because despite the paucity of hard evidence and the contradictory accounts of the witnesses, all these centuries later we know Jesus to be alive and present with us. We may not always be able to put the experience into words, but we know the living Christ who offers words of consolation, who walks beside us on the road and who enters into the locked rooms of our hearts when we are feeling lost and alone. We know the living Christ who energises and inspires us and whose presence gives us the courage to do things that we might have thought impossible. And because we know the wonder of the living Christ, we cannot keep it to ourselves, but need to share our knowledge with anyone who will listen.

We know the risen Christ, not because we have been told that he rose from the dead, but because we know him here in our common worship, we know him here in the those who share our belief and we know him here in our hearts and in our lives.

Christ is not alive because the Bible says he is. Christ is not alive because some people saw him before he ascended into heaven. Christ is alive because he lives in us.

Is seeing believing? Thomas

April 6, 2024

Easter 2 – 2024

John 20:19-31

Marian Free

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

In the name of God, who reveals Godself to us, as and when we need to know God’s presence. Amen.

Today’s gospel is rich in detail, detail that we fail to notice because our focus too often has been on Thomas. The idea of a doubting Thomas has become part of our lingua franca as if the primary purpose of Jesus’ resurrection. appearances was to expose Thomas’ need for proof, to congratulate those who do not need proof and to chide those who need to see to believe.  

A number of problems arise when we approach Jesus’ resurrection appearances to the disciples with this blinkered, one-eyed approach. A primary problem, as I have pointed out previously is that among the disciples in John’s gospel, Thomas is one of the few who has a speaking part. It is Thomas, who in an earlier chapter avers that he will die with Jesus and Thomas who, when Jesus says that they know the way to where he is going (14:4) has the courage to ask the question that is on the lips of every disciple: “We do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”

Far from being the example of a questioning, doubting disciple, Thomas demonstrates what it is to be a leader among the disciples and a confident follower of the earthly Jesus. One might even argue that Thomas’s absence from the locked room (in which the other disciples had hunkered down “for fear of the Jews”) was that, of all the disciples he was not to be afraid to go out – even if that meant being put to death with or for Jesus!

If the focus of today’s gospel is not Thomas’ failure to believe, we need to look at the text anew. 

Looking at the two resurrection appearances together, we notice that the disciples (with the exception of Thomas) are afraid, so afraid that they have locked the doors of the house. They are afraid – despite the fact that Peter and John at least have seen the empty tomb. They are afraid –   even though Mary Magdalene has reported that she has seen (and touched) the risen Christ.  Thomas is not alone, until the other disciples see Jesus for themselves they are all unbelievers. It is only when Jesus appears among them and shows them his hands and side that the disciples let go of their fear and rejoice. 

What happens next suggests that Thomas feels that he has been hard done by. For some reason, Jesus chooses to appear at a time when only Thomas is not present. In the absence of Thomas, Jesus has commissioned the other disciples to carry on his ministry and has equipped them with the Holy Spirit. Further, Jesus has given those disciples authority to forgive. Up until now Thomas has shown leadership qualities, his absence now is evidence of his courage. It would be surprising if he didn’t feel disappointed and overlooked. His petulant cry might reflect his disappointment that he was not present and his refusal to believe his fellow disciples as much as it reflects his scepticism that Jesus had risen. 

Not surprisingly, Thomas’ demand is no problem for Jesus.  A week later, (possibly the next time they were all together) Jesus appears again. On this occasion the doors are shut, but not locked. Jesus again offers “Peace”. He invites Thomas to touch his scars and, to not be unbelieving[1], but to believe. Thomas’ response reminds us of his leadership qualities. Unlike the other disciples who, when they see Jesus, simply accept that he has risen, Thomas declares Jesus to be both Lord and God. Far from being the Doubter, Thomas is in fact the first, and only disciple in John’s gospel to identify Jesus as both Lord and God.

That leaves us with perhaps the most confusing aspect of today’s gospel – Jesus’ response to Thomas’s declaration. According to John, instead of commending Thomas for his declaration of faith (as he does Peter in the Synoptics), Jesus appears to chide him. “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” The question is, are those words addressed to the disciples as a whole, to Thomas alone, or does the gospel writer have his eyes firmly fixed on his readers, and on those of us who will read the words centuries later?

John concludes the resurrection account (and what some believe to be the original gospel) with the following explanation: “But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name”. Given that the gospel is written at a time when there are no eye witnesses to Jesus, let alone to the resurrection it is possible to argue that the beatitude has quite a different intent. Jesus (or the gospel writer) seems to be making it clear that the readers of John’s gospel and those like ourselves who have come to faith generations later, are at least as blessed if not more blessed than those knew him in the flesh and who as a consequence, struggled to accept his resurrection.

We who have never known the earthly Jesus, but who have his life, death and resurrection reported and interpreted in scripture, do not have to struggle with the fact that our friend, Jesus was God after all. We, who did not have to ponder how someone so obviously dead could now be alive, have the advantage of knowing the resurrected Jesus in our own lives. We are indeed blessed, because seeing and knowing may in fact have been impediment to believing.


[1] This is more accurate translation and avoids giving Thomas the misnomer of “Doubting”.

If Friday is “Good” do we need the resurrection?

March 30, 2024

Easter Day – 2024

Matthew 28:1-18

Marian Free

In the name of God, who in Jesus shows us how to be truly free – of our fears, our anxieties and our insecurities. Amen.

Christ is risen!

He is risen indeed!

If Friday is Good, if on the cross Jesus defeated evil and death and deprived them of their power why did he need to rise? What can the resurrection do that the cross has not done?  

If you have been a part of our liturgical celebrations over the past few days, you will know that they are of one piece. During the Last Supper, Jesus turned convention on its head and demonstrated that there was another way to do things. He showed that powerlessness was not weakness, that service was not enslavement and that death, and the powers of this world were not to be feared.

On the cross, Jesus exposed the ineffectiveness of worldly power and authority. By submitting to a wrongful arrest, false accusations and an unjust punishment, Jesus denied them their ability to coerce and deprived them of their ability to force him to their will. By refusing to fear death, Jesus rendered death incapable of exerting power over him.

But there was still more to do. If Jesus’ death on the cross signalled the defeat of evil and death, then the resurrection provided proof positive that the refusal to engage with the powers of this world renders them impotent, and that when we hold fast to the values of the kingdom, instead of being seduced by the false values of this world we open the doorway to a different ending to the story,  a story in which evil and death do not have the final say and do not determine our response to life’s circumstances. Jesus’ resurrection is evidence that in the final analysis love will triumph over hatred, that vulnerability freely chosen is stronger than force, that meeting violence with non-violence strips violence of its power and that true freedom is won when one seeks not one’s own well-being but the well-being of all people.

Conversely, the resurrection demonstrates the futility of using force to kill love, the foolishness of using the law to suppress goodness, and the uselessness of relying on oppression to quench the thirst for freedom or the desire for justice. The resurrection makes it clear that ultimately love cannot be extinguished, that freedom will not be denied and that in the end good will triumph over evil. 

Jesus’ resurrection is proof positive that we can choose not to be consumed by worldly values, a desire for wealth and power, the need for external recognition or the protection of our personal safety and comfort. Jesus’ resurrection informs that we, and therefore the world, will only be truly free when we, like Jesus, refuse to be bound and limited by hatred, greed, bitterness, resentment, anger and unhealthy relationships. Jesus’ resurrection is a reminder that if we resist the urge for external affirmation or gratification and if we rise above the pettiness of human existence then we, like Jesus, will be truly free and the powers of this world will have no power over us. We with him will be raised from the sordidness of competition, ambition and desire, freed to be truly ourselves – created in the image of God.

The resurrection means that we are:

free to truly live – unconstrained by all those things that bind and limit;

free to embrace our own divinity – unfettered by those things that threaten to overwhelm our true nature;

free to step into the future – released from all those things that would threaten to hold us to the past; and

free to love selflessly and unconditionally – unencumbered by all those things that separate us from each other.

Friday is Good, because death and sin are defeated and the resurrection is proof that the only power they have over us is the power that we give them. 

So let us claim the victory of the cross and live in the power of the resurrection.

Christ is risen!

He is risen indeed!

God’s home in us – John 14:15-21

May 13, 2023

Easter 6 – 2023
John 14:15-21
Marian Free

In the name of God who has made God’s home with us. Amen.

Our neighbour, Norma was a thoughtful, generous person. Whenever she came to visit, she would bring something. I remember that my mother used to feel awkward about this because the usual response would be to give something in return. In normal circumstances, one would simply take a cake or flowers or chocolate when next visiting Norma. The problem was that my mother instinctively knew that such a gesture would cause embarrassment. Norma gave because she wanted to give. Our job was to be gracious in our acceptance of that gift – even if our automatic response was to give something back.

Receiving unexpected or undeserved gifts can make us feel uncomfortable or obligated because we live in a that operates on an economy of exchange. If you have something that I would like then, in order to get it, I must give something in return. If you would like to receive respect, you must behave in such a way as to earn that respect. If we want to advance in our careers, we have to ensure that we gain the necessary qualifications, get the requisite experience and so on. In other words, in this life, we learn that nothing is free.

An economy of exchange encourages us to place value on things, on people and on relationships; to determine the worth of a person or an object. It creates a dualistic outlook in which people and things are divided into good and bad, worthy, and unworthy, people who can benefit us and people who cannot. Not only that, it creates an atmosphere in which we tend to strive for approval, for success and for financial gain. An economy of exchange leads to a culture of competition. We determine our own value by measuring ourselves against others. It ill-equips us for living in the kingdom of God.

When we live in a competitive, dualistic world, our tendency is to internalize the values that we see in the world. As a consequence we live with a divided self. In other words, we separate ourselves into good or bad, loveable or unlovable, holy or profane with all the negative consequences that that entails. A divided self is always aware of its shortcomings and it always comparing itself with, measuring itself against others in order to feel better about itself. A person who doesn’t accept themselves as a whole, complete, loveable person never feels truly worthy, is always striving to be what they are not, and always striving to please an apparently unsatisfied God.

There are so many difficulties with this. A dualist worldview reveals a belief that God’s love must be earned, a conviction that God’s creation (ourselves) is unpleasing to God and that is that there are parts of ourselves/others/this world that do not belong to God or are not part of God’s creative plan. Worse, this attitude leads us to search scripture to find a measuring stick, a way to judge ourselves and others. The creation story exposes this approach as flawed and invalid. It is we who measure ourselves – not God. To give just two examples: according to the first chapter of Genesis, God created everything and saw that it was good and if that were not enough, the Incarnation is proof positive that God rather than reject our humanity (which is good) God fully embraces it for Godself. In becoming human, God became part of God’s creation and in so doing, God revealed that God affirms creation in its entirety.

Last week, I quoted Meister Eckhart: “God asks only that you get out of God’s way and let God be God in you.” This week I am reminded of a statement by a Japanese scholar whose name is sadly lost to me, she wrote: “I found God in myself and loved her fiercely.”

This morning’s gospel speaks powerfully to the presence of God (Father, Son, and Spirit) within each one of us. “The Spirit of truth abides in you.” “We (Jesus and the Father) will come to you and make our home with you.” God’s presence within us should be assurance enough that we are worthy. God’s presence in us makes a nonsense of a divided self. God is either at home in all of us, or God is not in us at all.

What is more, we don’t have to behave in a particular way or think certain things before God makes God’s home in us. God’s presence in us relies solely on love – our love for God. We don’t have to to be better, be more spiritual, do more good works before God (Father, Son and Spirit) make their home in us. Jesus does not say: not “keep my commandments and I will come and live with you but: “if you love me you will keep my word.” Love comes first. Love always comes first. Keeping the commandments is a consequence of love (not a precondition for love), a consequence of God’s having first made a home with us.

If God has made a home with us, who are we to think that we are not worthy? In the end, our relationship with ourselves and others directly impinges on our relationship with God. If we reject those parts of ourselves that we do not like, if we split ourselves in two – the ‘good’ and the ‘bad’ what does that say about our understanding of God’s presence in us?

Immediately prior to this week’s gospel, Jesus has reassured the disciples that they do not need to worry about the way, because he is: “the way, the truth and the life.” Now he expands on that. Not only is he the way, but having made his home in us, he can direct us in the way.

All we need to do is search deep within ourselves to find the God within, and having found God to trust God and, trusting God, allow God to lead us flawed and imperfect though we may be.

Getting out of God’s way – John 14:6

May 6, 2023

Easter 5 – 2023
John 14:1-14
Marian Free

In the name of God who is as close as breath and yet always just beyond our reach. Amen.

I often say that Jesus did us a great disservice by not writing down his teachings or his philosophy of religion. Jesus left it open for his followers to develop their own theology and, in the case of the gospel writers, to draw up their own individual version of events. It is possible that Christianity would be more united had Jesus been more definitive or produced something in writing . There would be less confusion as to what he said and did and no need for the early church to make sense of Jesus’ death and resurrection, because Jesus would have spelled out the meaning of everything before he died. In other words, to avoid confusion, misunderstanding and division, Jesus could have made it clear that he was promoting a new religion. He could have produced a fully formed theology of the Christian faith, written a creed and provided outlines of liturgical and ecclesiastical practice so that no one need be in any doubt as to what the church should believe and what it should do.

Having said that, I suspect that Jesus’ creation of uncertainty was actually a deliberate attempt to free humanity from a need to lock God (and faith) into a rigid set of principles and behaviours. Jesus does not set anything in stone, because Jesus wants us to rely less on ourselves and more on God; to grasp that our salvation is dependent not on anything that we can do, but on what God in Jesus has done for us; and to understand that God cannot be bought, bargained with or reduced to human categories.

He wants those who follow him to avoid the trap that the Pharisees seem to have fallen into – the trap of desiring certainty, of believing that they know and understand God, and of thinking that they can stay on the right side of God if only they follow this rule or another. Jesus hopes that those who come after him will follow his example of openness to God and his willingness to trust God blindly rather than to think that we can bind God to our will.

I find the Jesus of John’s gospel is perhaps the most frustrating, obscure, and contradictory. To give just one example, in verse 13:33 Jesus says: “Where I am going, you cannot come”, then only 8 verses later he says: “You know the way to the place where I am going” and “where I am you may be also” (14:4, 3). Both cannot be true, so we are forced to live with the tension of not knowing for sure.

Jesus seems to be deliberately keeping his disciples (and therefore us) deliberately on edge, ensuring that we don’t try to lock God into one way of being or another. He knows our desire for security, but he want us to understand that our relationship with God is less a matter of holding on, but rather a matter of letting go, less a matter of living within rigid and narrow guidelines and more a matter of grasping the expansiveness and openness of God.

As Meister Eckart says: “God asks only that you get out of God’s way and let God be God in you.” God is already there, in the depths of our being. That should be the only certainty, the only security that we need. Our task, over our lifetimes, is not to seek assurance but to accept that we already have it; not to seek God in words and deeds, but to discover that God is already present in our lives and to know that we can abandon ourselves to God’s presence. The task of spirituality is not to pray more, read more, do more, just the opposite, it is to let go, to trust, and to follow Jesus to the cross so that all that is false and illusory in our lives can be stripped away and we are left with only what is pure and true – the Spirit within.

Letting go, is counter-cultural and counter-intuitive which is why we resist it and why Jesus insists on it and why Jesus models it in his own life.

So, by a roundabout route, we come at last to today’s gospel, the beginning of Jesus’ farewell speech to his disciples. The scene takes place after Jesus’ final dinner with his friends. The disciples are confused and afraid. Their world has been turned upside down. If they had thought that things would remain the same, they were sadly mistaken. In just a short period of time, Jesus has broken social convention and washed their feet. He has revealed that he is about to be handed over by one of his own, and Judas has gone out into the night to do who knows what. If that were not enough to unsettle and confuse his friends, Jesus has told them that he is going away and that where is he going they cannot come.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.” It is clear that Jesus knows that his disciples need some reassurance, but it is also obvious that Jesus is not going to accede to their need for direction by providing them with a guidebook or roadmap. As close as Jesus will get to giving them directions is to say: “I am the way, the truth and the life.” “I am the way, the truth and the life”, tells us nothing about what to do, what to believe and how to behave.

We will only find the way if we allow ourselves to be led by Jesus (not by our conceptions of Jesus). We will only know the truth if we let go of all those things we hold to be true and seek only God and God’s truth. We will only truly know life if we allow ourselves to abandon this life and to accept the life that Jesus offers.

In faith, we can only let go– not hold on, only empty ourselves – not try to fill ourselves, only get out of God’s way and let God be God in us.

Christianity that is bland and unchallenging – a sermon for St George

April 21, 2023

Easter 3 – 2023
(Celebrating St George at Maleny)
Matthew 28:8-15a
Marian Free

In the name of God, Earthmaker, Painbearer, Lifegiver.

How often have you been threatened with death as a consequence of your believing in the risen Christ? In nearly seventy years of life and 27 years in the ordained ministry, I have only been threatened once. It was 1998, Martin Bryant had recently massacred 35 people and injured 18 others. Our then Archbishop, had asked all Parishes to encourage their parishioners to sign a petition calling for gun reform. On the appropriate Sunday, I duly made the announcement – naively thinking that my fellow Christians would have no objections to such a petition. That afternoon, I received a most abusive phone call from a Parishioner who threatened to shoot me if I ever stepped inside his fence. The event left me startled but, so long as I kept my distance, I was not in danger.

It is difficult in our time and place to imagine the Christian faith being so intimidating that the ruling powers would want to destroy it or to persecute, imprison or kill believers, or that our neighbours would shun and harass us. For the most part, Christianity in Australia has been so benign and inoffensive that at least in the last decades few people seem to take much notice of what we do or think. There is little, if anything, to distinguish us from any other member of society. By and large we blend in. Only occasionally do we collectively challenge government policy and even then, I am not sure that anyone thinks we are relevant enough or powerful enough to be a danger to authorities.

As long ago as the fourth century, Constantine made Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire and the church became so entwined with the government and the surrounding culture, that it has been difficult to draw a clear boundary between societal values and Christian values ever since. To be fair, in the intervening centuries the church has had a significant impact in areas related to social justice – the building of hospitals, the abolition of slavery, the improvement of conditions in prisons and universal franchise (at least for non-indigenous women). In this nation, the support of the churches played an important role in ensuring the passage of the 1967 referendum. While some of these actions caused antagonism and disquiet, few unsettled the government or society sufficiently that supporters of these causes were thrown in jail let alone executed.

The situation was very different in the first three centuries of the common era. Then, as often as not, Christians were considered a threat to the well-being and the status quo of the societies in which they found themselves. This should not surprise us. Before there was a church, there was Jesus – a person who presented such a challenge to the political and religious leaders of his day that he was put to death; a person whose influence, and teaching were so radical and unsettling that he had to be silenced; a person who was considered such a risk to the stability of the state, that even his death did not ensure that the establishment felt secure. That is why the authorities posted a guard at Jesus’ tomb and why, when the tomb was found empty, the priests and elders paid the guards to lie.

For the first three hundred years after Jesus’ death, those who believed in Jesus had an uneasy relationship with the communities in which they found themselves. In the worst-case scenarios, they experienced persecution, but by and large this took the form of local, sporadic harassment and exclusion from the social life of the community. State sanctioned persecution occurred briefly under Decian and Valerian, but it was the Emperor Diocletian who was responsible for the most sustained and bloodiest persecution (nine years from 303-312). It was his goal to return Rome to the golden age – a time before novel religions, specifically Christianity, had begun to emerge. Diocletian surrounded himself with opponents of Christianity, tried to purge the army of Christians, rescinded the legal rights of Christians, and tried to force believers to adopt local religious practices.

It was in this environment that George lived. As is the case of many saints, we know little about George and what we do know is shrouded in myth. One tradition has that he was born in the late third century Turkey to a noble Christian family, another that he was born in Greece and moved to Palestine when his father died. We know he did become a soldier and officer in the Roman army. However, when Diocletian demanded that he renounce his Christian faith (along all other members of the army), George refused and, as a consequence, was tortured and decapitated.

Veneration of George was well established by the fifth century, but he really came to prominence during the crusades at which time he became a model of chivalry. In 1350 King Edward III made him the patron saint of England in . According to Ian Mortimer: “St. George stands for the courage to face adversity in order to defend the innocent. The triumph of good over evil, through courage. …The king who adopted him might be almost forgotten today, but for centuries Saint George represented the idea of courageous leadership and, with it, the unifying popular will to be governed well and protected .”

It was not long after Diocletian that Constantine, anxious to unite the Empire under one banner, made Christianity the official faith of the Empire. Since that time, church and state, church and society have become so intertwined, that sometimes it is difficult to draw a clear boundary between culture and faith or to determine which influences which. There have since then been times when the church has been at the forefront of social change, but at least as often, proponents of the faith have been just happy to support the status quo as to challenge it.

Jesus was feared because he sided with and therefore empowered the marginalised and dispossessed, thus threatening the existing power structures. Christians like George were persecuted and killed, because they stood apart from the structures of power that held up the Empire and threatened to undo them.

Those of us who claim to follow in Jesus’ footsteps and who claim George as one of our own, should perhaps ask ourselves why it is that we are not held in awe, why we don’t challenge and unsettle the establishment and why our lives are so bland that we are not in danger of losing them.

Blessed are those who believe without seeing??

April 15, 2023

Easter 2 – 2023
John 20: 19-31
Marian Free

In the name of God who reveals Godself to us in many and various ways. Amen.

In the seventies and eighties, a popular saying among Christian educators was: “God has no grandchildren.” By that, it was meant that every generation had to come to know Jesus for themselves, that faith had to be owned by someone and not imposed on them. This seems to have been a key element of the Billy Graham and other evangelistic crusades, which always concluded with a challenge to those present to accept Jesus as their personal Lord and Saviour. Faith that was learned was seen as no substitute for a personal commitment to Jesus.

Billy Graham, and others like him, engaged in emotive and sometimes guilt inducing tirades in order to expose what to them was a superficial experience or expression of faith. As a result, many people did come to a genuine and lasting belief in Jesus. Others, who were simply caught up in the emotional hype fell away if they were not given support and encouragement or if they had no foundation on which to build. In the more conservative Anglican church of my youth, well-meaning adults in the congregations tried to convince us of the validity of the Christian faith, by telling us about the miracles that had occurred in their own lives as a result of faith. (Miracles were no substitute for relationship.)

There are of course, many, many ways that churches (and cults) endeavour to share what they believe and to convince outsiders to believe and to remain committed. In some instances, the threat of punishment or hell is used as a means of making drawing people in and keeping them there. Another method is to create sense of belonging to attract the lost and lonely. Belonging is seductive and the threat of exclusion ensures that those who have joined choose to stay.

“Belief” that is based on fear is not faith. It is certainly not a faith that is grounded in the knowledge of and relationship with the living Christ. But how does one come to know the risen Jesus? How, more than 2,000 years since the first Easter and in a world that is vastly different, can we share our conviction that Jesus is alive?

The early church had an advantage that we do not. Many of those who believed had seen the risen Jesus for themselves. Their conviction that Jesus was alive and the enthusiasm and life that was generated by that experience was like a magnet, drawing others into the orbit of their belief and enabling them to experience the risen Lord for themselves. Unlike us, the first disciples had the advantage that they could build on a common belief in the Hebrew scriptures and the promises and expectations contained within. Even so, their conviction that Jesus was raised was so compelling that they drew into the emerging faith those who not only did not know the earthly Jesus, but also those with no background in the Jewish faith.

Today’s gospel is often used to suggest that those who believe in Jesus without knowing or seeing him for themselves are more blessed than those first-generation believers who had the advantage of seeing the risen Jesus. “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe” (20:29). These words have the weight of judgement or compulsion behind them and seem designed to encourage arrogance on the one hand and insecurity on the other. They do not sound like the words of Jesus. My suspicion is that these words belong to the generation of the gospel writers – a third generation church which was facing the same situation that we face – sharing the faith with those who have not and cannot meet the resurrected Jesus.

The words attributed to Jesus here are at odds with the rest of the account of Jesus’ appearance, which has at its heart knowing, seeing and experiencing for oneself that Jesus is alive. Until verse 29, there is no suggestion that the disciples need to have faith in the abstract idea of Jesus’ resurrection. As the gospels tell the story, it was only as Jesus’ followers came to see Jesus for themselves that they were convinced that he was alive. On the morning of that first day of the week, Mary Magdalene encountered and spoke with the risen Jesus. It was only later, when Jesus appeared among the disciples and showed them his wounds that they too rejoiced in their risen Lord. Finally, Jesus, instead of demanding that Thomas believe without seeing, appeared especially for him.

A personal encounter with the risen Lord convinced the disciples that he was alive, and being convinced that he was alive, they shared their conviction with any who would listen, drawing them into an experience of the risen Christ.

Centuries later people are still coming to faith through an encounter with the risen Lord because the resurrection is not a past event but a living reality. If Jesus has risen, then Jesus is alive, and if Jesus is alive, then it is possible for every succeeding generation to meet the risen Lord for themselves.

How we encounter the risen Lord differs from person to person. It may be the result of a dramatic encounter, or it may be the gradual realisation that one has absorbed and accepted for oneself the faith learnt as a child. It may take the form of a quiet assurance that Jesus is present in one’s life, or it may be an intellectual assent to the Gospels. Today’s gospel does not lay down a hard and fast rule, but allows that some will need to see, and that others will believe without seeing.

The first disciples could not help but share their experience. Successive generations have become more and more cautious. But others will only know what we know if we can share our passion or if we live in such a way that those around us can see that our lives are enriched and enlivened by our relationship with the risen Christ – by (among other things) our enthusiasm for life, our desire to make the world a better place, our steadfastness and calm in times of grief and trauma and our quiet presence.

How did you come to know the risen Christ? How does your life reveal that Christ is risen?