Archive for the ‘Easter’ Category

The risen Christ beside us on the road – Emmaus and evangelism

April 18, 2026

Easter 3 – 2026

Luke 24:13-35

 Marian Free


In the name of God who meets us where we are and encourages us to go on. Amen.

Of all the resurrection accounts, the story of the road to Emmaus is my favourite. Perhaps this is because it does not rely on trying to imagine the but is grounded in the mundane and ordinary. The encounter between the despondent couple on the road and a complete stranger (who turns out to be Jesus) is so relatable that it is possible to recognise in it our own experience. There have been many times in my own life when through difficult circumstances I have gained new insights – into myself and into the state of the world. More often than not, it has only been after the event, when my eyes have been opened that I have been able to recognise the hand of Jesus in those situations. 

It is because many of us can relate to this story, that it can be a useful model for evangelism – not the kind of evangelism that relies on forcing others to believe what we believe.  The form of evangelism that Jesus models is that which takes place when we walk beside others, listening to and respecting their fears and their confusion and, if appropriate, sharing with them the ways in which our faith helps us through difficult periods in our lives and gives us a different perspective on our trauma or bewilderment. We can share how we knew the presence of a force beyond ourselves (Jesus) when what had made no sense suddenly became clear, when inexplicably we found courage and strength that we did not know we had, or when a sense of despair turned into a feeling of optimism. 

Sharing the account of the resurrection with those who have no faith has become an increasingly difficult task. In a scientific world fewer people have time for miracles and anyway – how does a miracle two thousand years ago make a difference in today’s world?  It seems to me that much more important than the extraordinary event of Jesus coming back to life is his on-going presence in the world today.  A once-off miracle that happened centuries is not enough to persuade people to believe in Jesus. Jesus’ continued presence with us, is another matter altogether. The miracle of Jesus’ resurrection is less that he came back to life and more that he continues to live and that his risen presence is with us even now. That is not something that belongs in the past but is something that we ourselves can and have experienced and it is from our experience that we may be able to help others make sense of the trauma and confusion in their lives.

Jesus’ conversation with the couple on the road to Emmaus, provides us with some insights as to how we might go about this.

Luke is recounting an event that occurred three days after Jesus’ death, on the day that news of his resurrection had begun to circulate. The couple on the road, Cleopas (and his wife) had left Jerusalem. They were filled with despondency, fear and despair. Nothing had turned out the way they had expected. They had thought that Jesus, “a mighty prophet” was the one who “was to save Israel”. Instead, their own priests and the leaders of Israel had handed him over to death and now their own lives might be in danger. Despite Jesus’ predictions and despite the reports from the women that Jesus had risen from the dead, the couple would not allow their hopes to be raised. Rumours of Jesus’ resurrection were not enough to help them understand the traumatic events. Fear and confusion had replaced hope and expectation.

The couple were so absorbed with their own troubles that they didn’t even recognise Jesus when he drew alongside them. And Jesus doesn’t thrust himself on them, he doesn’t say: “look foolish people, it’s me, just believe!” Instead, Jesus engages them conversation. He listens with respects their doubts and honours their questions. Using the language and stories with which they are familiar, he tries to provide them with another lens through which to view the events of the past few days. He explains their own traditions and scriptures, and he helps them to make sense of, and to come to terms with the events which have forced them to leave Jerusalem. At no point does he try to diminish the trauma they have experienced, nor does he tell them that they if they have faith everything will work out. Jesus simply provides a listening ear and places the death of Jesus, (his death), in its broader, historical perspective. In so doing, he helps them to see the events differently, gives them hope and helps them to find a way to move forward. 

It is only after the event, after they have recognised Jesus in the breaking of the bread, and after Jesus has vanished from their presence that they realise that along the way “their hearts had been burning within them.” The “stranger’s” understanding and his ability to help them place Jesus’ death in a broader framework has not only helped them come to a new understanding but has enabled them to recognise that it was Jesus himself who brought them through their trauma and confusion to a place of hope and comprehension. 

 “Evangelism” need not be simply a retelling of the story of Jesus and expecting listeners to believe in an historical person and events of millennia past. The story of the couple on the road to Emmaus reveals that sharing the gospel is as much about presence as it is about recounting historical “facts” and miracles. 

The risen Jesus can be made known when we stand alongside others in their times of grief, confusion and hopelessness. The risen Jesus can be made known when we listen, without judgement, to the anguish, disappointment and fears of others. As those who know that God can form the universe from nothing, wring victory from defeat and bring the dead to life, we can help others to see the world through a different lens – one that doesn’t give despair the upper hand, that doesn’t allow trauma to have the final word and that doesn’t give death the final victory. When hopelessness gives way to hope, confusion to understanding and grief to joy, maybe they too will “feel their hearts burn within them” and come to know the risen Christ.

Christ is risen! Alleluia! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Binding and loosing, forgiving and not forgiving

April 11, 2026

Easter 2 – 2026

John 20:19-31

 Marian Free

In the name of God our protector, Jesus our liberator and the Holy Spirit our enlivener. Amen.

There is so much to consider in this morning’s passage – the obvious fear of the disciples, the sudden appearance of Jesus, the absence of Thomas, the giving of the Holy Spirit and the forgiving or not forgiving of sins. This morning I’d like to focus on the last of these. 

First, a quick word about Thomas and the Holy Spirit. Even though nowhere in the text is Thomas called the doubter, this is the way which we have chosen to remember him. It is hardly fair. Thomas was not alone in his inability to believe without seeing, indeed even with seeing. According to Matthew there were some among the eleven who, despite having seen the risen Jesus, still doubted (28:16,17). Furthermore, according to John, the disciples already knew that Jesus had risen. Mary Magdalene had told them, and they had refused to believe her. Instead of rejoicing and seeking out the risen Jesus, they were locked away in fear. In failing to accept the word of the other disciples, Thomas is only responding in the same way that the other disciples responded to Mary’s news. 

Second, in this passage, we are told that Jesus breathes the Holy Spirit on the disciples. This is a far cry from the Acts account of the dramatic events of the Jewish Festival of Pentecost. John’s version of receiving the spirit is very different. Jesus simply breathes the Holy Spirit on the disciples. Clearly something life-changing did happen on the day of Pentecost, but the Holy Spirit was not a new phenomenon, he/she had co-existed with God and with Jesus from before the beginning of time. 

This morning as I’ve said, I’d like to focus on the much-misinterpreted phrase that accompanies Jesus’ giving of the Holy Spirit. Jesus says: “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”  

This post-resurrection gift has often been misunderstood, and sometimes misused to reinforce the authority the church, to maintain control. These words can used to strike the fear of hell into those who are judged to have committed an unforgivable sin and in turn used to vilify and exclude those who don’t or who can’t conform to a certain way of being or behaving. Misunderstood, this gift can be taken to mean that the church, or individual members thereof, know the mind of God and therefore know what cannot be forgiven for eternity. 

John is not the first evangelist to use the expression or at least a similar expression. According to Matthew, when Jesus gives Peter the keys to the kingdom he says: “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven” (16:19). Later, the exact same commission is given to all the disciples: “Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven” (18:18).

These are weighty words, and if misinterpreted, allow people who are so inclined to exert enormous power over the vulnerable. 

In order to understand Jesus’ meaning here it is essential to consider its first century context.

In the ancient Jewish world, these or similar words were technical, legal expressions. To bind meant to restrict, to confine or to forbid. To loose meant to permit, or to relax existing rules. The expression gave the people the right to legislate and to make (and unmake) rules and norms[1] – in much the same way that we give our legislators the authority to make and to change laws. In the first century, it was primarily the Pharisees – those concerned with the law – to whom this instruction applied. In practical terms it meant that the Pharisees were empowered to interpret the scripture and to determine what it meant in their context. In real terms, what this meant was twofold. First, it recognised that there were (and are) laws appropriate for a particular time and place which have outgrown their usefulness. Second, it acknowledged that there might be times when new legislation was required to meet the changing needs of society. In the religious context, any changes, of course, had to be compatible with scripture.

Jesus himself modelled this practice when he redefined the meaning of the Sabbath. He recognised that a law which had been intended to provide relief and rest, had instead become a burden, that it was binding not liberating the poor. Jesus knew that God-given laws were intended to liberate and protect, not to restrict or to harm and that sometimes it was necessary to let them go or to reframe them. His teaching against divorce for example was a radical departure from the law of the day. Jesus’ teaching against divorce corrected a permissiveness that had meant that, without cause, men could simply discard women who relied on them for security and support. 

John, for reasons unknown has changed the language of this phrase to the forgiveness of sins, but the meaning is essentially the same – sin being the breaking of the law. Even though it implies that sins might not be forgiven, Jesus is relying on the disciple’s remembering his own propensity to forgive – even those who admitted wrong-doing.

The church, at least in certain times in its history, has taken the charge of binding and loosing very seriously. A century and a half ago, after much debate, the church in England conceded that slavery, while accepted and even condoned within the pages of scripture, was not in fact consistent with the scriptures’ insistence on the dignity of all who are created in the image of God. Last century, the Anglican church made life-changing decisions about divorce (despite Jesus’ injunction against divorce) having recognised that the injunction not to divorce condemned men and women to a lifetime of unhappiness, or worse, to a lifetime of abuse.

Binding and loosing law and/or sin, is not a mandate to hold on fiercely to outdated regulations and to harmful practices, or to impose draconian practices on the faithful, nor is it a license to libertinism. Rather it is God’s gracious recognition that little holds true forever and that rules and regulations are intended to liberate and protect, not to imprison and make vulnerable.

It is a huge responsibility, let us hope and pray that we will use it well and for the benefit of all.


[1] https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&opi=89978449&url=https://www.youtube.com/watch%3Fv%3D6S_3DyzhUX4&ved=2ahUKEwjRlrDV0OSTAxVy1jgGHcoVFyAQ3aoNegQIVRAL&usg=AOvVaw0lWmMEk7s8j1tB9fQh_Vy8

A second, less frequent use, is the power to exclude or include. 

Celebrating when there seems to be nothing to celebrate – Easter 2026

April 4, 2026

Easter Day – 2026

Matthew 28:1-10

Marian Free

In the name of God who wrought the universe from nothing, who brought life from death, and who, in Jesus, gives hope to all who suffer and are filled with despair. Amen.

I have to confess that I have never felt less like preaching on Easter Day. Easter this year does not feel triumphant or jubilant. The new life wrought from death by Jesus is barely visible in a world torn apart by conflict and marred by poverty. We will go home this morning to news of an escalation of the war in the Middle East or to reports of new lows perpetrated in the war in Ukraine. It is impossible for us to ignore the fact that throughout the world literally millions of people have been displaced from their homes or to close our eyes to the fact that families who were already struggling with the high cost of living are now facing increased petrol costs and who have no idea where it all will end. 

In the face of all that and more it is difficult to sound a note of victory, to celebrate new life, a new beginning. Indeed, such triumphalism would seem like a slap in the face to all those who this morning have woken not to joy or even to hope, but to despair, grief or terror or to all three together. Proclaiming the victory of Easter in today’s context today would feel like an affront to those who, years after war has ended, or natural disaster has come and gone still have not been able to rebuild their lives. 

And yet we (or at least humanity) have been here before, not once, not twice, but again and again and again as humankind demonstrates its propensity for violence, greed, injustice and indifference to the needs of others. We have been here before and have found reasons to celebrate.

We have been here before.

In the last century alone humanity has witnessed not one but two world wars, in which approximately 90 million people died and in which many millions more were permanently injured or displaced. In the last twenty years we have witnessed a tsunami which wiped the lives of nearly 230,000 people, and floods and other disasters which have destroyed the homes, communities and livelihoods of hundreds of thousands of people; and we have stood by helplessly as civil war and climate change wreaks havoc in the lives of many and still we believe and still we hope because Jesus has risen from the dead.

We have been here many, many times before. We will be here again and still we have found reasons to celebrate.

Today and every day we have reasons to celebrate, not because we have woken to a world restored and renewed but because we have woken to be reminded once again that there is always hope, because Jesus’ resurrection assures us that death does not have the final word, that sorrow and grief and pain can be transformed and that God, has not abandoned us, but in the risen Christ is alive and at work in the world.

It is important to recognise that Jesus’ resurrection was not some magical, instant, romantic fix. God didn’t simply wave a wand and make everything new, put an end to all conflict and pain. Jesus’ victory over death came at an enormous cost not least to Jesus himself. For there would have been no resurrection if there had not first been a crucifixion. Before Jesus could be restored to life he had to die. Before Jesus could die, he first had to experience life, to surrender his divine status and be fully immersed in the human condition – not the condition of the rich, the comfortable and the powerful, but the condition of the poor, the oppressed and the powerless. Before Jesus could be crucified he had to suffer betrayal and humiliation, and then to endure flogging, nailing, jeering and ultimately suffocation. Before Jesus could rise he had to truly die and to be sealed in a tomb. 

The world looked much the same that first Easter Day as it had on all the days that came before it. The poor were still poor, the embattled were still embattled, the defeated were still defeated. The world looked the same and yet nothing would be the same again. Jesus’ resurrection demonstrated beyond doubt that death is not the end – the dead do not remain dead. Jesus’ resurrection showed the world that love can conquer hate, good can defeat evil, and that the best of humanity will ultimately triumph over the worst. Jesus’ resurrection reminds us that even in the worst of circumstance there is always room for hope. Because Jesus rose from the dead we can be sure that a new day will dawn and the world will be restored. We can believe that there will come a time when all suffering will cease, when the bombs will stop falling, when the rich will no longer hoard their wealth, when the hungry will be full, when creation will be restored and the world will be whole once more. 

The resurrection may not have changed the world, but it should and must change us, so that through us the forces of death will not be able to rob people of dignity, identity and hope and that through us and in us life (not death) will have the final word.

In the words of one of our post communion prayers, let us pray:

Father of all, we give you thanks and praise, that when we were still far off you met us in your Son and brought us home. Dying and living, he declared your love, gave us grace, and opened the gate of glory. May we who share Christ’s body live his risen life; we who drink his cup bring life to others; we whom the Spirit lights give light to the world. Keep us in this hope that we have grasped; so we and all your children shall be free, and the whole earth live to praise your Name; through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Christ is risen. Alleluia. He is risen indeed. Alleluia.

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.