Archive for the ‘Epiphany’ Category

Subverting power – the wise ones

January 3, 2026

Epiphany – 2026

Matthew 2:1-12

 Marian Free

In the name of God who taught us that true power lies in vulnerability, that real influence lies in empowering others and that true victory is sometimes disguised as defeat. Amen.

It’s all about power – who has it and who wants it.

The curiosity of the visitors from the east and their desire to see the child for themselves, the mystery and miracle of the star and the gifts pregnant with symbolism  all distract us from the competition for power and the underlying sense of menace which permeates the story of Epiphany. We are blinded by our wonder at the mysterious strangers travelling from far away to worship the one whom we know to be the Christ. For us, their visit provides the definitive sign that the child whom they seek  is the one promised by the prophets of old. Yet there is still a sense of foreboding. Something tells us that this story will not end well.

Indeed, Matthew’s account of the visit of the magi sets the tone for the whole gospel and prepares the reader for Jesus’ crucifixion.

In each gospel a sword hangs over Jesus’ head almost from the moment of his birth. In Luke Simeon declares: “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed  so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Mark has barely begun the story of a Jesus when he reports that Jesus’ ministry was so controversial that: “The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him, from that moment they looked for an opportunity to kill him.”

Matthew sets the scene quite differently, but the the threat is the same. By naming Jesus as a future king within the very halls of power in Jerusalem, the strangers from the East alert us to the conflict that will ensue between the earthly and the heavenly powers and lead to Jesus’ death.

Jesus is born into a volatile political situation. In his corner of the Empire, Herod’s position as Tetrarch of Galilee is entirely dependent on the goodwill of Caesar, his ability to prove his loyalty and on his ability to keep the local population under control. Life was no less precarious for the citizens of Palestine. Herod’s grip on power was maintained by violently quelling any opposition and by making a public example of trouble-makers by crucifixion. Those who held power as political appointees  – including the priests and the scribes – were, in turn, dependent on their being seen to support Herod.

What is more, the stability of the nation as a whole depended Herod’s ability to assert his dominance over the populace. An insurrection would have threatened not only Herod’s grip on power but also the security of the nation. Were there to be a popular uprising not only would Herod would be swiftly deposed but the Roman army would be sent in to brutally suppress the rebels. As a consequence, it did not matter how much the people resented the power of Rome, many of them feared direct intervention even more. Keeping the peace was the order  of the day.

It is not surprising then that the news of another, rival king  filled not only Herod, but all Jerusalem with fear.

Each gospel tells the story of Jesus’ origins in a slightly different way. Matthew emphasizes the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy. Five times in the first two chapters Matthew writes that: “this was to fulfill the scriptures”. (This means that we cannot be entirely sure of the historicity of the events that Matthew recounts.) Even so, deliberately or not, what Matthew does in the account of the magi is to expose the conflict that exists and which will intensify between the worldly idea and practice of power, and the heavenly notion and exercise of power.

The visit of mysterious strangers from the east, exposes the way in which the in-breaking of God’s kingdom into the world will subvert the earthly concepts of power and control, how this subversion will increasingly bring Jesus into conflict with the authorities and will ultimately cost him his life.

It’s all about power – how to gain it and how to hold on to it OR about letting it go and gaining it all the same.

According to Matthew the magi boldly, shamelessly and possibly naively inform Herod that a rival king has been born. Herod can only think of a King in the worldly sense- one who would unite the people, raise up an army and challenge the authority of Rome. The possibility that such a person might have been born fills Herod with dread. If the child were allowed to live Herod would certainly lose face, if not now then when the child grew up. News of the birth of a king might unite Judeans behind him even before he is old enough to lead and army.  

What Herod cannot imagine and what causes conflict nonetheless is the the ways in which this child will subvert conventional notions of power.

It begins with his birth. Jesus is born outside of the centre of power and with none of its trappings- wealth, subjects, servants, an army – nothing that would distinguish him or would enable him to impose his will on the people. As he matures and begins his ministry, Jesus continues to subvert and redefine the usual expectations of kingship. He refuses to take advantage of his divinity to benefit himself; rather than lord it over his followers, he devolves his power to them – gives them the ability to heal, to cast out demons and to teach. He will earn the loyalty of his followers and not impose it, he will empower, not disempower others and at the end he will submit to the earthly authorities rather than call on the angels to defend him.

It is easy to be seduced by the powers of this world – riches, status, and influence.To be seduced is to buy into a way of being that contradicts the values of the kingdom. Jesus practices resistance – seeking nothing and ultimately gaining everything. This is our call – to show by example that society does not have to be built on competitiveness, that we gain more by generosity than by protectionism and that it is more satisfying and productive to build others up than it is to pull them down.

This may lead to misunderstanding, confusion and even conflict, but by living kingdom values now we will be ready for the kingdom when it comes in its fulness.

 

 

 

 

 

Following a star – taking risks

January 4, 2025

Epiphany – 2025

Matthew 2:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God, tantalisingly mysterious, and always out of reach. Amen.

“If the wise men gave Jesus gold, why was he poor?” This was a question that my great nephew posed recently. My sister deferred to me for an answer. I confess that I was stumped. In over 50 years of teaching Sunday School and Religious Education and over 30 years of preaching, no one has ever wondered (aloud) what happened to the gifts of the magi. Scholars have pondered over the number of the magi (we know there were three gifts, but not how many magi there were) and have speculated on their role in Matthew’s story. Song writers have given meaning to the gifts and names to three magi, but to date I do not recall anyone wondering what happened to the gifts.  

The magi are exotic and unfamiliar.  They appear only in the account of the birth of Jesus but are never mentioned again.  There are tantalisingly few details to the story. We know almost nothing about these three strangers, where they came from, whether they knew each other before their journey, or why they noticed the star (when no one else appeared to see it). We are not told how they got to Jerusalem, and then to Bethlehem.  Did they travel by foot, by donkey or by camel?  Not knowing from where they came, we do not know whether or where they stopped on the way. We assume they were well off because they have treasure chests, but we have no idea how well off. If they were wealthy, did they arrive with a retinue of servants and if so, were there places in ancient that could accommodate large numbers of important guests?

The magi capture our imagination simply because they are mysterious. They have access to secret knowledge, they not only notice, but they understand the meaning of a new star in the sky, and they are in possession of treasure chests of rare and wonderous gifts – gold, frankincense and myrrh. They appear out of nowhere and then disappear out of view. 

It is only Matthew who mentions the magi and the star, and he tells us only what he wants us to know.  We want to know so much more. Instead of trying to understand Matthew’s purpose in including the magi in the story, we are tempted to focus on the details – the missing details. In art and song, theology and story we have named three of the magi – Caspar, Melchior, Balthasar – have given them countries of origin – Arabia, Persia and India and have built legends around them. Matthew’s expression “magi” (Gk magous), meaning wise man or magician can make us uncomfortable. So based on Old Testament texts like those we’ve read this morning, we are tempted to call them kings. Alternatively, we try to give definition to the notion of “wise men” – suggesting that they were astrologers, philosophers, students of the mysterious, or the intellectuals and scientists of their times. 

The truth is that we do not know any more than Matthew chooses to tell us and Matthew tells us only what he wants us to know. Matthew did not envisage that his magi would delight his readers to the point that they would build myths around them. Matthew’s intention was that the magi, and their visit to the Christ child would (rather like the star) point us to the deeper meaning of their presence in the story. If we focus on why the magi are part of the story, we will see that that they play a number of roles, roles that both inform and challenge our faith.

In no particular order: 

  1. The magi study the scriptures and pay attention to the changes in the world around them. They discern that a change in the heavens suggests that the divine is at work in the world.
  2. The magi are open to God’s action in the world and do not limit their understanding of God to a narrow, formulaic, static vision of the divine. They see the possibility that God might be known in ways they have not yet experienced or thought of. 
  3. The magi have the courage to step out of their comfort zone, to take risks of faith, to follow a sign even though they do not know where it will lead.
  4. The magi pay attention to the voice of the divine communicating through a dream. 
  5. The magi contribute to Matthew’s desire to demonstrate that Jesus is the fulfilment of prophecy; “so it has been written by the prophet” he claims of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem.
  6. The magi introduce Matthew’s intention to defend the inclusion of the Gentiles in the emerging church. (Even though he will have Jesus say to the disciples: “Go only to the lost sheep of Israel.”) In this, the most Jewish of the gospels, Matthew begins and ends with those outside the fold. Here at the beginning, these non-Jewish magi seek Jesus out and pay homage to him. As the gospel concludes Jesus will send the disciples out into every nation.
  7. The magi identify Jesus as the “King of the Jews”, the title which will be given to him by Pilate on the cross. At the same time, their presence sets the scene for conflict. Another king in Palestine, however legitimate, will create divided loyalties, something that cannot be tolerated in Caesar’s Empire.
  8. The magi give to Jesus gifts that are precious and rare (and which may have the deeper meaning that have since been attributed to them.)

Our fascination with these mysterious and wondrous characters is intended to encourage us to delve deeper – not to be distracted by creating legends – filling in the gaps with names, professions and countries. Our task is  to ask ourselves what purpose they serve in Matthew’s account, what they have to tell us today, and how might they challenge our own faith lives.

Do we continually study our scripture so that we might see what we have not yet seen? Have we allowed our image of God to become calcified, limited and unchanging? Has our faith become limited by creed and dogma? Can we allow ourselves to believe that just as the ancient faith of the Israelites expanded to include Gentiles, that God might yet have something new in store for us? Are we willing to take steps into the unknown, confident that God will lead us? When we see Jesus are we overwhelmed with joy?

If we answer “no” to any of those questions perhaps it is time to seek out the star and follow wherever it is that God is leading us.

One story or many?

December 31, 2022

The Naming and Circumcision of Jesus/The Epiphany of our Lord
Luke 2:15-21/Matthew 2:1-12
Marian Free

In the name of God who is always revealing Godself in new and unexpected ways. Amen.

The lectionary offers us two possibilities for this Sunday – the Epiphany of our Lord (the coming of the magi) or the Naming and Circumcision of Jesus. In some ways it is a shame that we cannot celebrate both today as together they give us an insight into the different ways in which Matthew (magi) and Luke (circumcision) approach their accounts of Jesus and provide a model as to how we might share the gospel today.

We believe that Matthew is writing for a largely Jewish audience. For this reason, he emphasises the ways in which Jesus fulfills scripture, has Jesus insist that the disciples go nowhere among the Gentiles and does not include encounters with, or parables about, Samaritans. Yet, it is very clear that Matthew writes with an understanding that Gentiles will come to believe in Jesus. At the Gospel’s beginning, John the Baptist reminds the Pharisees that God can raise up children of Abraham from the very stones and at its close the disciples are sent into all the world insinuating that God’s vision is broader than the people of Israel. Matthew’s inclusion of the account of the coming of magi – non-Jewish astrologers – is a further indication that he is softening up his readers for the idea that Gentiles will come to worship God’s anointed one and will therefore be included among the chosen people.

In comparison, Luke is writing for an audience that is primarily Gentile. He adapts his telling of the story to ensure a reception among those who do not come from a Jewish background. Luke does include stories about Samaritans – the parable of the Good Samaritan and the account of the Samaritan leper who returns to give thanks. It is important that Luke gives credibility to what appears to be a new religion. The Romans were reasonably tolerant of the national religions of the nations that they conquered, but they were less inclined to accept a new and novel religion. Indeed, any new belief was viewed as a superstition. A religion that had apparently appeared out of thin air would struggle to be taken seriously. This explains why Luke, though writing for Gentiles, goes to some length to present Jesus (and his family) as faithful Jews – observing the Jewish rituals of circumcision and Temple observance.

The ways in which the gospel writers configure their telling of the story of Jesus to ensure that it will be received by their audience is informative. Intuitively they knew that faith in Jesus did not depend on rigid adherence to a collection of dry historical “facts”, but that faith in Jesus was a living and vibrant relationship with the risen Christ. Indeed, a reading of the letters of Paul reminds us that from the very beginnings of the Christian mission different emphases were placed on, for example circumcision, depending upon the needs and backgrounds of those being addressed. In Corinthians, Paul goes so far as to say that he became all things to all people, that he might by all means save some (1 Cor 9:19 -23).

In many ways, Paul was passionate and uncompromising and yet he understood that accepting Jesus as Lord and Saviour was more important than the observation of ancient Jewish customs. In his letters he worked out a theology that addressed the tensions between those who came to faith from Judaism and those who came from Gentile backgrounds. In so doing, he did not believe that he was compromising the faith, but that he was making it accessible to all people.

Vincent Donovan, a Jesuit missionary, came to the same conclusion when he was working among Masai in Kenya . The Jesuits had been in Kenya for 100 years when an enthusiastic young Donovan descended on them. In that time, not one single person had embraced the Christian faith. Having received the blessing of his superiors and the permission of the local chiefs, Donovan began sharing the gospel according to Mark with the Masai. As he did so it became patently obvious to him that stories of sowing and harvesting would fall on deaf – if not hostile – ears. The Masai were pastoralists who at times found themselves contesting the use of land with others who were agriculturalists. As Jesus used imagery that was familiar to his audience so Paul, the gospel writers, and Donovan used imagery and ideas that enabled them to connect to their listeners and to draw them into a relationship with the resurrected Jesus.

In the 21st century, we have much to learn from our forebears in faith and in mission.

Sharing the faith does not mean rigid adherence to fixed statements of “fact”, but an openness to the Holy Spirit, an understanding of the central tenets of the faith and a willingness to listen to those with whom we would share the gospel. As Jesus listened to and reacted to the Canaanite woman – changing his mind about who does and who does not belong – so we should listen to those around us and allow ourselves to understand and to respond to those who are hungering to hear the gospel today.

(Donovan, Vincent. Christianity Rediscovered. Maryknoll, N. Y. :  Orbis Press, 1982.

A summary may be found here https://www.newcreationlibrary.org.au/books/pdf/284_ChristianityRediscovered.pdf)

Are the wise ones excluded from heaven?

January 6, 2022

Epiphany – 2022
Matthew 2:1-12
Marian Free

In the name of God whose boundless love excludes no one. Amen.

Many years ago, I attended a funeral for a former parishioner in the Parish in which I was serving. The officiant was the nephew of the deceased. All was going well (from my point of view) until the sermon. As I recall, the priest began by saying: “Now we come to the difficult part of the service where we tell the family that their loved one hasn’t made it.” He went on to clarify that of course his uncle had made it. I was horrified and it was all that I could do to remain in my seat. The thought that anyone would be so insensitive to make such an announcement when a grieving family were saying their last goodbyes seemed appalling to me. In retrospect, the thought that any human could put themselves in the position of God and determine whether or not another person was fit for heaven was/is pure arrogance.

I realised very quickly that not many of the congregation shared my misgivings. One after another members of that parish expressed their support for the preachers’ point of view. They said things like: “He was telling it like it is.”

More recently I attended a funeral at which the partner of the deceased used the eulogy to warn those present that now was the time to “accept the Lord” and not to leave it too late as the deceased had done! This was a very different Parish and, on this occasion, only those from outside nodded their heads in agreement. Parishioners were as bemused as myself at such sentiments.

Now, of course, I am in danger of being just as judgmental as those whose faith leads them to hold these views so let me clarify. Many such believers are warm and loving – even inclusive. Where they largely differ from myself is their firm belief that there are clear guidelines that determine entrance to heaven and that deviance from same is a ticket to hell (however they understand hell). So sure are they of their belief that they are determined to keep others from eternal punishment and apparently the captive audience at a funeral is seen as a good opportunity to spread the message and protect their friends from harm.

It is clear from my remarks that I am not among those Christians who firmly believe that unless a person explicitly accepts Jesus as “their Lord and Saviour” that they will go to hell. I cannot associate a God who dared to enter an imperfect and undeserving world, and who mixed with sinners and outcasts with a God who then draws a rigid line between those whom God loves and those deemed not worthy of God’s love. How, I wonder, could a God who endured the agony of the cross not love all those for whom God died? How could a God who shared human frailty and wretchedness devise eternal punishment for those who do not live up to a particular standard, or who had the misfortune never to have come within the embrace of God’s inclusive love?

True there is conflicting evidence – in both Testaments. It is relatively easy to find texts to support view of a God who judges, punishes and condemns, but it is just as easy to find evidence of a God who loves and loves and loves and forgives and forgives and forgives. In the first creation story God creates humankind and declares it to be very good. When Israel turns to other gods, God, in the prophet Hosea declares: “How can I give you up?” Over and over again in the First Testament, God relents and refuses to abandon an Israel that continually strays from the worship of the one true God. In the gospels we have so many examples of God’s forgiving love. The parable of lost sheep tells us of a shepherd who goes after the sheep who has strayed and holds a party when the miscreant is found. Jesus tells us that sinners will enter heaven before us, assures the thief on the cross of his place in paradise and from the cross forgives those who have put him there. Jesus’ refusal to exclude anyone from his circle is surely evidence that neither does God exclude anyone.

These thoughts came to me as I was pondering Epiphany which falls today. It occurred to me that the story of the wise ones is one of the most telling examples of God’s inclusivity – whether or not one has “accepted Jesus as Lord and Saviour”. Matthew tells us of strangers from the east whose origin and faith (if they have one) we do not know. To be sure they bow before the infant Jesus (the King of the Jews), but then they return home to their own ways and their own faiths. There is no indication that they recognise Jesus as the Saviour of the world, and no possibility that they could have been converted by the teachings of Jesus (Jesus having not yet uttered more than a cry). Are these wise ones, so central to our Nativity story forever condemned to hell because they did not identify Jesus as Lord? I’d like to think not.

In my lifetime I have come to realise that there are many ways in which to know and encounter Christ (God Incarnate) in the world. I firmly believe that anyone who has truly experienced the all-embracing, all-forgiving, ever-loving God, will find it hard to turn away. I am also convinced that the Good Shepherd who searches out the sheep will continue to search until we are all embraced and held by God’s unconditional (albeit underserved love).

Before we determine what God does and does not demand and whom God does and does not love, let us all look to ourselves and our own unworthiness to receive God’s love and having done that, never begrudge the extension of that love to others – deserving or not.

Including the outsider

January 2, 2021

Epiphany – 2021

Matthew 2:1-12

Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Earth-Maker, Pain-Bearer, Life-Giver. Amen.

Teaching religious education in schools can be a challenge. One can no longer be sure of a w welcome and the children can be resentful because some of their classmates have permission not to be there. Some parents, while sending their children to classes, have nevertheless passed on a negative attitude towards religion. Even in a simpler time, children of a certain age would begin to ask questions – usually about the first two chapters of Genesis. In a class of nine-year olds, one could almost predict that as soon as the class became confident enough one child would ask: “Miss, what about the dinosaurs?” and another would pipe up with: “How can the whole world come from just two people?” In one sense, the answers are easy, but the trick, as I see it, is to answer the questions with integrity and in such a way that the children do not dismiss the whole bible and therefore the Christian faith. 

My solution was this. I would tell the class one of Aesop’s fables, usually the one about the hare and the tortoise[1] or of the lion and the mouse[2]. Then I would ask the children whether or not story was true. More often than not the children – wanting to please me – would say that the story is true. This would lead to more discussion as to whether or not animals can actually speak. Once we’ve sorted that out, I would ask if the story tells us something that is true to which the children respond that yes it does.

This makes it easy to explain that the bible tells us truths even if not all of it is historically factual. It means too that, having learned that one part of the bible is more story than fact, the children don’t reject the whole bible as just a story.

For centuries no one saw any need to argue for the veracity of every part of the bible. In fact, for centuries the bible was plumbed as much for its deeper, symbolic meaning as it was to pin down times and facts. The writers themselves were not concerned with being 100% historically accurate, but freely employed symbolism and used a variety rhetorical techniques to get our attention and to ensure that they got their message across. 

Ancient cultures, including that of the Mediterranean people, have “a very porous boundary line between reality and appearance, fact and impressions”[3]. Events are remembered as much for their meaning as for any other reason. 

No one can say for sure that the visit of the magi was an historic event, but that is not the essential point. The author of Matthew would no doubt have been utterly amazed for example, at the effort that has gone into identifying the star – including associating it with the alignment of Jupiter and Saturn that we witnessed recently. Matthew’s purpose here is to demonstrate Jesus’ place within Judaism and his role as the light to the Gentiles.

Historic fact or not, Matthew draws on a number of Old Testament allusions in his retelling. In Numbers 24 – the oracle of Balaam – we find all the elements in the account of the magi – the star, the journey to and from Egypt, the escape from a violent ruler and the vocation to be a light to the Gentiles. These same elements, as Matthew well knew, also provided an overarching view of Israel’s history – the centre of which was the liberation from Egypt. References to Bethlehem and quotes from the prophets further underline the significance of the child as does the prophetic hope for a ruler who will shepherd God’s people. The gifts from the travellers remind the listener of Psalm 72 in which the kings of Seba and Sheba offer gifts of gold to Israel’s king.  

If we had read on, we would have seen how Matthew further situates Jesus in the story of Israel when Joseph takes refuge in Egypt and brings Jesus out again.

For the early readers of this gospel, the account of the magi would have been redolent with meaning and would have placed Jesus in the centre of their story – but there is a twist. Israel’s story is not for them alone – it always looks outward and this is the case here. If we read the whole gospel in one sitting, as the author intended, we would at this point be remembering Matthew’s genealogy which takes Jesus all the way back to Abraham – the Gentile who became the father of the Jews and to whom God made a promise that all the nations in the world would find a blessing in him. 

In these first two chapters, not only does Matthew establish Jesus’ credentials as a Jewish saviour he also makes it quite clear that Jesus is also one who was promised as a light to the Gentiles. The magi, astrologers from the east, are the bridge between God’s promises to Israel and God’s initial promise to Abraham. They are the first clue, in this very Jewish gospel that faith in Jesus is not exclusive but is open people from every nation.

The inclusiveness of the gospel has often been lost on us. We the Gentile inheritors of Judaism forget that we began as the outsiders. Throughout the centuries we, the church, have instead taken it upon ourselves to decide who is in and who is out. We have made such decisions on the basis of people’s behaviour without having any regard for the depth or expression of their faith.

Jesus may indeed have received extraordinary visitors in his early years but let us not allow our wonder at the mystery of the story blind us to its deeper meaning that it is those without any connection to the historic faith who are the first to bow their knees to the child Jesus. In our day, the faith of those whom we have chosen to exclude may put our own to shame.


[1] http://read.gov/aesop/025.html

[2] http://read.gov/aesop/007.html

[3] Dennis Hamm, SJ, https://liturgy.slu.edu/EpiphanyB010321/theword_hamm.html (I am indebted to Dennis Hamm for other elements of this text.

Which kingdom?

January 25, 2020

Epiphany 3 – 2020

Matthew 4:12-23

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us not only to follow but to serve God and serve others. Amen.

 There are a number of benefits to social media, but equally there are a number of downsides. These include bullying, spreading ‘false news’ and creating narratives that do not necessarily reflect the whole picture. This is illustrated to some extent by the content on some of the local sites. There have been a number of break-ins in the area recently and a couple of other nasty situations. Despite information from the police that suggest that the situation is not much worse than previously and that Clayfield and the surrounding suburbs are a safe place to life and/or work; repeated posts on Facebook seem to be creating an atmosphere of fear, which can lead to withdrawal, self-preservation and in turn a lack of compassion.

 It is possible that this was played out in another story that was posted on the same site. It reads: “This morning I witnessed the saddest situation on Seymour road. A young man was laying face down-still on the ground. As I approached in my car I witnessed a couple step over him and continue on their walk…another woman with a dog walk around him, quickening her pace…another gent crossed the road. No one appeared to care.”

Our gospel reading today continues the theme of light that continues through Epiphany. “The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.” Matthew is quoting Isaiah chapter 9. Isaiah is writing in the context of the Assyrian occupation of Israel. He is encouraging the people to maintain their faith in God, reminding them that God will send a king who will defeat the invaders and who will introduce a time of endless peace. Centuries later, Matthew’s audience would have understood that when Isaiah names Zebulun and Naphtali he is referring to the lands promised by God to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the lands that Moses saw and into which Joshua led the people of Israel.

In Jesus’ time the promised dawn must have appeared to be a distant hope. Galilee (Zebulun and Napthali) were once again under the oppressive yoke of a Gentile nation. This time it was the Romans. Occupation by the Romans had had more than a demoralizing effect. Under Caesar’s rule farming land had been usurped and given to others, depriving families of a means of earning an income and dependent on others for work. Exorbitant and crippling taxes resulted in poverty which led to poor diets, poor hygiene and therefore to poor health. Into this situation of despair Jesus came – announcing a very different situation – the kingdom of God – the reign of God that would bring restoration and peace, rather than oppression and devastation.

Jesus has barely appeared on the scene when he insisted that the fishermen, Peter and Andrew, James and John, follow him. These four are to be the first of many – women and men – who will be caught up in in vision of God’s rule and whose lives will be given meaning and purpose where before there was only drudgery and hopeless. It was a radical move, but it may not have been as hard as we think for Peter and Andrew, James and John to drop everything and follow Jesus. Fishing was demanding, exhausting and often unrewarding work. As fishermen they might have had a semblance of independence, but their boats were almost certainly owned by a Roman invader to whom they would have owed a percentage of their catch, more of the catch would have gone to pay taxes for using the roads and for selling the fish. At the end of the day there would have been little left for themselves.

Jesus’ confidence obviously attracted the men and what is more, he has offered them a future, a new role – fishing for people – whatever that might mean. Instead of being caught up in an endless, soul-destroying occupation that brought little to no financial reward, instead of a daily grind that barely sustained their families, the brothers are called to a role in the kingdom that Jesus has come to proclaim. He must have symbolized the hope of a future that, until now, seemed out of reach. He has given the men a purpose, a reason to hope and to dream. They have no hesitation in joining Jesus in announcing the advent of God’s reign.

No sooner has Jesus begun to gather followers than he begins his mission in earnest – not only teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom but curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

The Roman Empire brought destruction poverty and despair. Jesus brought healing and wholeness. The Roman Empire imposed its rule by force. Jesus drew people to him through empathy and concern. The Roman Empire subjugated conquered peoples to its will. Jesus encouraged loyalty through the power of his presence and his word. The Roman Empire quashed opposition through fear. Jesus did not fear competition but encouraged others to join him in his enterprise. The Roman Empire disempowered it subjects. Jesus gave to his followers meaning and purpose.

The Roman Empire was dominated by fear. Jesus modelled a kingdom governed by compassion. The Roman Empire built walls of self-interest, self-preservation and disdain to isolate themselves from the suffering of the conquered, the poor and the disenfranchised. Jesus opened himself to the misery and pain of the outcast, the marginalised and the oppressed.

The Roman Empire is a distant memory, but we who are followers of Jesus continue to exist in two dimensions – the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the world. How we respond to threats and how we react to those who are do not fit the norm are a reflection of the kingdom in which we feel most at home. Perhaps we need to ask ourselves whether we are beginning to pull up the drawbridge to keep ourselves safe or whether Jesus’ love and compassion continues to determine our reaction to others and to the world around us.

Authentic leadership

January 4, 2020

Epiphany – 2020
Matthew 2:1-12
Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to trust God so that we can trust ourselves. Amen.

It all began at least 30 years ago when a friend gave me a Christmas card featuring the wise ones or the magi. “I chose it,” she said, “because the figures look like women.” Since then I have built up a small collection of Christmas cards and quotes featuring wise women – most of them humorous. One pictures three women mounted on camels bearing gifts of disposable nappies, a book on childcare and a voucher for a well-known baby store. A second has a stream of women stretching out into the distance. The caption reads, “Three wise men, 3,675,493 wise women.” Another reads, “Three Wise Women would have asked directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, swept the stable, made a casserole and brought practical gifts.”

While I enjoyed the humour on the cards I thought that the idea of wise women was an invention, or an aspiration of the women’s movement. It was when I was researching today’s sermon that I came across an article that suggested that women would have been in the caravan that sought out the ‘King of the Jews’. This led me to explore the matter further. It appears that there is good reason to believe that women might have been among those who came to worship Jesus. The “magi” (for that is the word in the Greek text) would probably have come from Persia or modern-day Iran. They were followers of Zoroastrianism – a faith system that is now in decline, but which was one of the precursors of Islam. Zoroastrian priests were well known for telling fortunes and preparing daily horoscopes and they believed that they could foretell miraculous births by reading the stars .Zoroastrianism allowed women to serve priests and women often travelled with their male counterparts . Indeed, the Old Testament precursor of this story is that of the Queen of Sheba who travelled from Ethiopia to see King Solomon bearing gifts fit for a King. It is not beyond the realms of possibility that women would have been among the magi.

The problem with Matthew’s all too brief account is that while he tells us that there were three gifts (the Queen of Sheba brought gold and spices), he does not specify how many magi there were, whether they were male or female or tell us that they were kings. That there were three, and that they were kings is our imaginative interpretation. Indeed, the word “magoi”, like the word “parent” can be used for either gender and the tradition that there were three derives from the number of gifts presented.

As long ago as 2004, the General Synod of the Church of England voted to retain Matthew’s word ‘magi’ rather than translate it with a word (or words) that were more easily understood. The argument for this was two-fold. The use of the translation “magi” was truer to Matthew’s intention. It retains the exotic nature of Jesus’ visitors and, as the word is inclusive, it allowed for the possibility that women were present.

Of course, it doesn’t really matter who the magi were, where they came from or how many there were. The significance of their brief appearance lies not so much in the mystery but in the dramatic tension their presence creates and the stark contrast between their reaction to the birth and that of Herod. Herod was not a legitimate king of the Jews, but one appointed by the despised Romans. For this and other reasons, he was held in low esteem by the majority of the Judeans. He was not even a Jew and was so insecure that he did not hesitate to put to death members of his own family if he thought that they might present competition for the throne. It is little wonder that when Herod heard of Jesus’ birth he was not filled with delight and anticipation, but with terror and a desire to crush or remove the threat that Jesus signified. It was not only Herod who was troubled. Everyone who depended on him for their wealth and position (“all Jerusalem” in fact) shared his concern and recognized the potential for disruption that an alternate king represented.

In contrast to Herod, the response of the magi was one of curiosity, reverence and awe. They did not seek to destroy the child; but travelled a great distance to worship him. Their authority and sense of self did not depend on external affirmation or legitimation. They knew who they were and were confident of their place in the world. As a result, the magi were comfortable in their own skin, they did not need to stand on ceremony, nor did they need to defend or protect their position and they were not threatened by competition (perceived or real). Their position in the world was not dependent on anyone else and it was not altered or compromised when they knelt and worshipped Jesus. In fact, their status was enhanced and amplified by their humility.

As such, the magi pre-figured the person that Jesus would be. Jesus would be a king who did not need to prove himself by competing with or destroying those who opposed him. He would be self-assured, certain of who he was and of his place in the world. He would not need others to legitimize him and he would not be easily upset by his enemies. Jesus would not be driven by fear to protect his position – or even his life – and his place in the universe would not be diminished by his humility let alone by his submission to death on the cross.

In contrast to Herod, the magi were confident of their place in the world, they did not depend on external legitimation or affirmation and were not threatened by competition.We live in a world in which there is an increasing sense of insecurity and an increasing reliance on leaders who are authoritarian and who disparage or demean any who dare to criticize or challenge them.

The magi were clear where true authority lay, may we have their self-assurance, their humility and their wisdom and that we will always chose the authentic over the showy, the secure over the insecure and those who choose to serve over those who are determined to dominate.

 

 

 

Loyalty to God alone

January 5, 2019

Epiphany – 2019

Matthew 2:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God who holds all people in God’s embrace and longs only that they allow themselves to be held. Amen.

Last week there were shepherds and a stable. This week there are kings and a house . The differences between Luke’s account of Jesus’ birth and that of Matthew are striking and tell us something about the perspective of the authors. Luke, as we shall see throughout this year, emphasizes Jesus’ concern for and identification with the poor and the marginalised. No room can be found to house the pregnant Mary and the only visitors are shepherds (the lowest rung of the social ladder). Luke’s shepherds bring no gifts. The author of Matthew has different interests. He is more concerned with the fulfillment of prophesy and with Jesus’ place within Judaism. In Matthew Jesus’ visitors are respected Magi – of such significant rank that they receive an audience with King Herod and they present the child with rich gifts. Matthew makes it clear that this is no ordinary child but a king. The Magi go to the palace to ask Herod where they can find ‘the King of the Jews’ and Herod’s grip on power is so tenuous that the thought that there might be competition fills him with terror.

In the context of today’s gospel, it is interesting to note the contradiction between, but also within the two accounts of Jesus’ life – especially in relation to the inclusion of those who were not Jewish by birth. Luke’s gospel makes it clear that faith in Jesus is open to those outside the Jewish faith – the Gentiles. For example, in both the parable of the Good Samaritan and in the account of the ten lepers, it is a despised Samaritan whose behaviour shows up that of Jesus’ own people. In contrast, Matthew appears to believe that faith in Jesus is a logical – indeed foretold – continuation of Judaism. Matthew emphasises the Jewish law and the keeping of that law which, of course, is only relevant if you are Jewish. It is only in Matthew’s gospel that Jesus instructs the disciples to “go only to the lost sheep of Israel.”

At the same, even though Luke’s gospel is much more inclusive of non-Jews, the author is at pains to establish Jesus’ Jewish heritage and the devoutness of Jesus’ parents. Luke’s gospel both begins and ends in the Temple – the centre of Jewish religious practice. Matthew, whose gospel appears to exclude non-Jewish believers, both begins and ends in a way that implies the inclusion of Gentiles. Here at the very beginning of the story, it is the non-Jewish Magi who not only recognize Jesus but worship him – while the Jewish authorities (represented by Herod and the priests) and terrified of his existence. At the conclusion of Matthew’s gospel Jesus insists that the disciples “make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit”. Matthew’s very Jewish Gospel is opened wide to all people

Both gospels, but that of Matthew in particular, reflect a contradiction that exists already in Judaism. From the time of Abraham onwards, the religion of the Hebrews was unique in that it promoted belief in one God who had a special and exclusive relationship with God’s chosen people – Israel. The children of Abraham were a people set apart for God and who had, in response, to set themselves apart from the nations around them – nations who believed in multiple gods and whose practices did not match the high standards that God expected of those whom God had set aside as God’s own. In order to ensure that the Israelites did not become contaminated by those who did not belong, God gave very clear instructions including ordering the genocide of the inhabitants of the Promised Land and a directive that the children of Abraham were not to marry men or women of different ethnic backgrounds.

Despite this, despite God’s obvious preference for Israel, there is a thread that runs through the Old Testament that makes it clear both that the relationship between God and God’s people is not entirely exclusive and that in the future all nations will worship the God of Israel. To give just two examples – the book of Ruth informs us that Ruth, a Gentile, is to become the forbear of David – Israel’s most beloved king and in turn the forbear of Jesus. The book of Jonah makes it quite clear that God has compassion on the Gentile Ninevites and will not destroy them if they acknowledge their fault. In more than one place we are informed that there will be a time when all nations will stream into Jerusalem to offer worship to God.

These contradictions, which continue in the New Testament, remind us that God, who is the creator of all, and the God above all Gods is a jealous God who demands absolute loyalty and insists that God’s people set themselves apart as God’s holy people yet at the same time is the God of every nation who cares for and longs to include all of humanity in God’s embrace.

The visit of the Magi to Jesus cautions us not to think too highly of ourselves in comparison with others. It was outsiders who saw the signs, those who did not belong who sought out Israel’s king and those who belonged to a very different faith who fell down and worshipped the infant Jesus. The people who should have been alert to the signs, the people whose king had come to birth and who should have been first to offer homage had stopped expecting a king. They took for granted their status as the people of God and had accommodated themselves to their situation as servants of Rome. Jesus was seen, not as a king to be welcomed, but as a threat who needed to be destroyed because he would expose the compromises they had made and return power to God and not the Empire.

May the visit of the Magi remind us that we should never be complacent and self-satisfied about our place in the kingdom, that we should always be alert to the signs of God’s presence and that we should not be in the all to the powers and values of this world but remember that our first and only loyalty is to God and to God alone.

Fishing for people, mining for the souls of people

January 21, 2017

Epiphany 3 – 2017

Matthew 4:12-25

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who meets us where we are, not where God would wish us to be. Amen.

Anglicans are notoriously shy when it comes to mission. Most of us are very happy for people to know that we attend church, pray, do voluntary work for the Anglican Church and so on, but when it comes to sharing the gospel suddenly our faith is a very private matter. We don’t want to intrude or to impose on others. We respect their right to make up their own minds and above all we are conditioned by the mantra that in polite society we don’t talk about politics or religion. This attitude stems in part from the religious wars of our church’s home. Consciously or otherwise our collective memory tells us how divisive religion can and has been. Some of us are old enough to remember the suspicion with which Protestants and Catholics viewed each other and know that friendships can be ruined if old wounds are opened up.

On top of all that we have to add that until at least the 1950’s it could be assumed that the majority of people professed some faith. A vast proportion of the population were attached to a church community whether they worshiped regularly or simply sent their children to Sunday School. In a Christian nation we could assume that the community knew the basics of the Christian faith. Magazines printed recipes for Shrove Tuesday and Lent, everything closed between Maundy Thursday and the Tuesday after Easter, carols in the park told the story of the Incarnation. Sharing our faith was in many ways redundant. Even those who didn’t go to church knew the stories – that the birth of Jesus was celebrated at Christmas and his death and resurrection at Easter. Most people knew some of the parables and that Jesus was a preacher and a healer. Until the end of the twentieth century we could be confident that school children had been exposed to the Christian faith through religious education.

Ever since Constantine made Christianity the faith of the Roman Empire there has been little to no need to spread the faith amongst our own. As a result, those of us in traditional churches have become complacent and out of practice. We have had so little cause to share our faith that we do not have the language for mission, let alone the experience at sharing the good news.

In recent decades as our churches have emptied and our Sunday Schools fallen silent, we have begun to think of mission as a way to rejuvenate our churches and to fill our pews. We have experimented with a variety of solutions, but our lack of success is evidenced by our failure to halt the decline.

Today’s gospel focuses on the beginning Jesus’ mission and Jesus’ call to the disciples to fish for people. As twenty-first century disciples, we can interrogate the texts to see what it can teach us.

As I see it, the gospel consists of four parts – 1. a reminder that for many the world is a place of darkness and death, 2. Jesus’ call to repentance, 3. Jesus’ calling of the first disciples and 4. Jesus’ preaching of the good news and his offering of hope and healing to the world. The gospel begins by reminding us of God’s promise to bring light to a world filled with darkness and the claim that Jesus is the fulfillment of that promise. Then Jesus begins his ministry by calling people to turn to acknowledge through repentance the part they play in preventing the world from more truly reflecting the kingdom of God. Having established who is he and why he is here, Jesus calls some people to follow him – to join with him in his mission to inaugurate the kingdom. He calls fishermen to fish for people, but he might just as well have asked miners to mine for people or seamstresses and tailors to sew lives together, or miners to mine the depths of human suffering. Finally Jesus demonstrates what the kingdom might look like by bringing healing and wholeness to a suffering world.

It is important to notice what Jesus does not do – he does not send people to swell the numbers at the local synagogues. He does not preach the gospel as if it is some sort of moral imperative – “if you are not good you won’t go to heaven”. He doesn’t demand that those whom he calls should be anything other than they are. He doesn’t ask fishermen to teach or teachers to fish. He meets people where they are, acknowledges and affirms what they can do rather than ask them to do something for which they are not suited. He uses the disciples’ gifts and abilities to help him to bring restoration and wholeness to the world.

If we are to learn something from Jesus’ mission it might be this. God has promised to bring light to a world that is filled with the darkness of hardship, sorrow, pain and injustice. God’s desire is that we should catch God’s vision for humanity that the world should be a reflection of the kingdom of heaven and repent our part in the world’s indifference, cruelty and greed and that we should strive with all our being to ensure that our present reality more closely represents the reality that is the kingdom of heaven. We are to recognize and value the gifts and the potential of those around us (valuing them for who they are, not for whom we would want them to be) and through our encouragement and affirmation enable others to share their gifts with the world. And we are encouraged to shower such love and compassion on the world that the recipients of that love cannot help but be changed, renewed and restored and in their turn demonstrate such love compassion to others that the whole world will be healed and transformed and God’s kingdom will be known on earth as it is in heaven.

As we leave behind the seasons of Christmas and Epiphany, and enter into the penitential season of Lent, we as church and as individuals have the opportunity repent the part we play in a world that is far from perfect and to consider more deeply what it is that we can to bring about healing and peace and thus ensure that God’s kingdom will come and God’s will will be done.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The child who terrified a king

December 31, 2016

Epiphany – 2017

Matthew 2:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God, whose Son proclaims a kingdom that threatens to shake and disturb the world as it is so that it might become the world as it is meant to be. Amen.

In July 2016 a massive 41,000 people were arrested in Turkey – 41,000. These included police officers, members of the armed forces and public service as well as a number of members of the judiciary. Their crime? – suspected involvement in the failed coup against President Recep Erdogan. The response to the attempted coup was swift. Any real or imagined opposition was quickly silenced and any future unrest deterred by the speedy and thorough suppression of real or potential opponents. Those who were arrested face anywhere from fifteen years to life in prison, though who knows how or when the legal system will manage such a huge number of trials.

The situation is Turkey is far from unique. The so-called Arab Spring has come at a huge cost to many and in most cases there is little to show for a movement that began with so much hope and idealism. In Egypt for example, a change in government has not really achieved the dreams of those who risked their lives for a better state of affairs. Unrest in Syria five long years ago was brutally suppressed and the reaction of the government then has led to the nightmare that is Syria today. In nations that are divided by race or class, or in nations where power is maintained by force rather than popular choice, any dissension that threatens the relative stability of the nation and is often rapidly and effectively crushed. Such action has the effect of exposing the insecurity and the paranoia of the leaders and making others think twice before they take similar action.

Gaining and maintaining power by force and by the suppression or destruction of any opposition are not new phenomena. In our own tradition, the Book of Kings recounts the story of Jehu, a commander of Ahab’s army, who not only deposed his king but who also slaughtered all seventy of Ahab’s sons to ensure that there were no legitimate claimants to the throne and no one to challenge his power. Rule that is not popular or legitimate lays itself open to resentment and opposition and is forced to use violence to maintain control.

“When King Herod heard this he was frightened and all Jerusalem with him”, so writes Matthew in today’s gospel. Herod Antipas, the son of Herod the Great, was a tetrarch appointed by the Emperor. His father had made some good political choices and as a result was given the title of King and responsibility for Judea but you only have to see the fortress at Masada to understand that Herod the Great did not feel at all secure in his role. He needed to bolster his power by force and to protect himself from any who might seek to take his throne. His son, Herod Antipas was even less secure. He was utterly dependent on Rome for his position and was resented by the Jews because he was not one of them.

It is no surprise then that Herod and all Jerusalem trembled when the magi enquired: “where is the child who has been born King of the Jews”? Herod was the King of the Jews. A competing (and perhaps legitimate) King would deepen the resentment towards Herod and had the potential to lead to an uprising against him. A King of the Jews would be able to gather support not only from those who longed to liberate the land from Roman rule, but also from pious Jews who were hoping that one day God would provide an heir to King David to rule over them.

Herod had every reason to fear and he did what many before and since have done – he sought to destroy the child who posed a threat to his grasp on power.

The story of the magi, coming as it does on the heels of Christmas brings us up with a shock. It is hard to hold on to sentimental images of mother and child, of peace and joy when we are confronted by the harsh political reality of this birth. In order to hold on to his power and position Herod has to destroy Jesus – an innocent child who, we might think, is no threat at all. Jesus is God’s son, sent by God for the salvation of all. This infant is not a political or military threat. There is no political party or group of agitators who have been holding out for a figurehead to consolidate their followers or to lead their cause. Besides, any discontent is easily crushed by the superior might of Rome.

Jesus is only a child, a child who, we are led to believe, will show the people how to reconnect with God. He will challenge them to turn from their sin so that they are ready to enter the kingdom of heaven. Matthew’s telling of the story undermines this irenic idea and confronts us with the bald truth of the situation. However innocent the child, however noble Jesus’ purpose, it is clear that he has come to initiate change and to question the status quo. He has come to announce an alternative rule, an alternative kingdom – the kingdom of heaven. It is of no consequence to Herod that this is a spiritual rather than a political kingdom or that Jesus wants to turn the hearts of the people to God rather than turn them against Herod. Any change, any person that draws power and attention from Herod could be considered dangerous and threatening. Any person that implicitly or otherwise challenges loyalty to himself or to the Empire could be perceived to be a danger to Herod’s tenuous hold on power. Potential for trouble must be nipped in the bud before it is allowed to get out of control. Herod cannot risk the people seeing in Jesus an alternative to his role or using the infant to form a movement against him. Herod has no option but to seek to destroy his competition.

Here at the very start of Jesus’ life Matthew makes it quite clear that Jesus is a threat to the status quo and that as a result his life is at risk. As the story continues, we will witness Jesus’ supporting and encouraging those who are alienated and disenfranchised. At the same time we will see him offending and putting off-side those in positions of power.

Herod was mistaken in one sense. Jesus did not come to seize political power, nor did he come to liberate Israel from the grip of Rome. He did come, in the words of Psalm 72: “to deliver the needy when they call, the poor and those who have no helper.  To have pity on the weak and the needy, and to save the lives of the needy. To redeem their lives from oppression and violence.” (12-14) In any time and place this is a subversive mission, one that implies that the state of the world and its institutions are not as God would wish it to be.

Matthew is right to warn us. This is no innocent baby, but a child who will shake up and challenge the world’s institutions, who will bring to light things that some would like to remain hidden and who will expose violence, injustice and oppression.

Herod was right to be terrified. If we are not willing to change and grow, if we are not prepared to get on board with Jesus’ social and political agenda, perhaps we should be terrified too.