Archive for the ‘Identity of Jesus’ Category

The art of not knowing (Mk 10:35-45)

October 20, 2024

Pentecost 22 -2024

Mark 10-35-45

Marian Free

In the name of God whose ways are not our ways and whose thoughts are not our thoughts. Amen.

The Book of Job can be a difficult read but in summary it is a reflection on the limits of human knowledge and how little we know in comparison with all that there is to know. It provides us with a reminder that in this life there are some things that we will never understand, and it confronts our simplistic, pious ways of explaining away trauma and tragedy. 

Job has had everything stripped away from him, wealth, family and even health. His well-meaning friends have come to visit and, believing that Job’s current state is a consequence of something he has done, proceed to use their misinformed theology to try to get Job to admit to his fault. Job, convinced that he has done nothing to offend God, maintains his innocence. The discussion goes on and on and on and on.  

All this time, God is silently listening and holding God’s tongue. Finally, when God can stand it no more, God interrupts and speaks directly to Job.  

This morning’s reading gives us just a taste of God’s speech (which continues for three whole chapters).  “Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind: 

2                “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? 

3                Gird up your loins like a man,

                                    I will question you, and you shall declare to me.”

As we read further, we can sense the irony and even the sense of playfulness in God’s words. Take these from chapter 41: “Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook,

                                    or press down its tongue with a cord? 

2                Can you put a rope in its nose,

                                    or pierce its jaw with a hook? 

3                Will it make many supplications to you?

                                    Will it speak soft words to you?”

You can almost hear God smiling. God is using exaggeration and sarcasm to make a point – all human knowledge and wisdom is limited, and the mind of God is ultimately beyond our comprehension.

The comparison of how much we think we know with how little we actually understand provides a useful background to today’s gospel (indeed to much of the gospel story). Over and again, Jesus finds himself in the position of correcting the misunderstandings of his opponents, of enquirers and even of his disciples. The Pharisees think they can trick Jesus with questions such as the one about divorce, the rich young man thought (hoped) that rigid adherence to the law was all that was required for salvation and James and John who thought that Jesus was seeking to take control. 

Jesus was so different from what anyone had expected that followers and opponents alike struggled to adjust themselves to reality – even though it was right in front of them. After all that Jesus has said about the last being first, the lowliest being the greatest, In today’s gospel, James and John (believing that Jesus is on the way to Jerusalem to usurp the power of the Romans) have approached Jesus and to ask that they be given places of honour – to the right and to the left of Jesus – when he takes the throne. 

Did they not hear what Jesus had just said – that in Jerusalem the Son of Man (Jesus) would be handed over to the chief priests and scribes who would condemn him to death???   Have they not understood anything that Jesus has taught them during his ministry?

Remember these are not just any followers.  James and John are part of Jesus’ inner circle. They are not only among the twelve disciples, they, with Peter are the ones to whom Jesus entrusted the experience of the Transfiguration, they with Peter, will be invited to pray with Jesus in Gethsemane, and yet they don’t get it. No matter what Jesus says, no matter how little he conforms to their idea of a Saviour they simply cannot change their preconception that God would send a triumphant saviour – not a suffering servant.

Jesus confounded and continues to confound all expectations. He was not a king. He was not a warrior. He was not a priest. Jesus did not build an army. He did not take on the might of Rome. He did not restore the historic priesthood. There was no existing model of a Saviour that matched the reality that was Jesus. And because Jesus did not conform his followers, even his inner circle could not grasp what he was really about. However hard Jesus tried to confront the preconceptions of his disciples, they kept trying to impose their presumptions on him, they kept trying to make him fit the mould they had in their heads. 

The problem was and is that Jesus just won’t fit. His life and death defied all previous expectations. Jesus’ birth, his life and his death were the polar opposite of what the people of Israel were looking for. His very existence, instead of being comforting and assuring, instead of. shoring up the hopes of the people, was destabilising and disquieting. 

In his person, Jesus is an illustration of the point made by God’s response to Job. By turning everything. Upside down, Jesus demonstrates in his own person that God cannot be defined or limited as is ultimately beyond our understanding.  

Over and over again the disciples tried to make Jesus fit their expectations, much as Job’s friends tried to get Job to agree to their understanding of his suffering. The problem is that Jesus doesn’t not fit. Jesus unsettles and challenges pre-existing ideas and confronts the limits of our knowledge in the hope that our hearts and minds might be set free from what we think we know and that we might find the courage to enter into the emptiness of unknowing.

The spiritual journey, as the disciples discover time and again, is a process of unlearning and unknowing what we thought we knew so that in the end it is our unknowing not our knowing that will lead us into the heart of God.

What’s in a name

January 14, 2023

Epiphany 2 – 2023
John 1:29-42
Marian Free

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

At the beginning of my ministry, I was based in a small country town. Even though it was close to a major city and not far from the capital, there were many in the town who had lived there all their lives. They had been to school together and had worked together in the nearby railway workshops. They were so familiar with each other that they knew each other by names that they had been given based on physical or personal characteristics. When I met with families to plan the funeral of their father, I would begin by asking them to tell me about him – his childhood, his family life, his work life and so on. Then, in order to put together an order of service, I would ask for more specific details such as full name and date of birth. At this point I was often interrupted as someone would say: “No one will know who you are talking about if you call him “Robert, John, Peter” or whatever his name was. I quickly learnt to ask how they would like their father referred to, and after the first formal reference to the deceased. I would make sure that for the rest of the service I would use the name by which he was known, not the name given him at birth. It was an important lesson as many people are known, not by their given name but by a term of affection, by their nickname or by their middle name.

Names are important, they are how others identify us and very often, they are how we come to identify ourselves.

In today’s gospel (which bridges last week’s reference to Jesus’ baptism and next week’s account of Jesus’ calling the four fishermen) includes four names for Jesus – Lamb of God, Son of God, Rabbi and Messiah (which means anointed). In the same reading Simon is given a new name Cephas (in Aramaic), Petros (in Greek) which means ‘rock’. Simon’s change of name tells us something about the way in which Jesus sees him. Apparently, despite all his wavering and his final denial of Jesus, Jesus can see in Peter something firm and solid – reliable even.

That is clear enough, but how are we to account for the number of (unrelated) names that are applied to Jesus? The four mentioned here are only a few of those that we encounter in the first chapter of John’s gospel. Others are Word, light, life, the one about whom Moses in the law and the prophets spoke, the one who is coming after me, the one who ranks ahead of me, Jesus, son of Joseph of Nazareth and Son of Man. It seems that not one word or phrase is sufficient to capture all that Jesus is and all that he signifies. There were so many expectations of one who would save Israel, so many hopes that God would send someone to redeem the people that it was difficult for Jesus’ contemporaries to decide which of these categories best suited the man whom they were sure was the one. Which of the ancient prophecies did Jesus fulfill? Which of the recent hopes did Jesus live up to?

The problem for us all these centuries later is to try to come to grips with terminology which in the first century may not even have had the same meaning that it had in the times of the prophets. So many influences had entered Jewish thought in the intervening years, so much life experience had impacted on the ways in which the Pentateuch and the prophets were written.

It is left for modern scholars to discern what might be meant when expressions such as “Lamb of God” are used for Jesus, or when Jesus takes upon himself the title “Son of Man”.

Names are both descriptive and determinative, both flattering and derogatory. They try to capture the essence of a person, but they can also define a person such that they unable to be seen in any other way. Jesus as “Lamb of God” can be seen as the sacrificial lamb, the Servant of Isaiah. Jesus “Son of David” creates a more militaristic image. Jesus Son of Joseph of Nazareth (carpenter’s son) is familial – and is not a term that earns Jesus respect.

For this reason, names/labels can be divisive.

How we see/name Jesus matters. How we name Jesus will determine how we live out our faith. The name/s that we give Jesus will provide the lens through which others will see him.

What are the expressions that you use when thinking about/addressing Jesus (biblical and other)? What do those words mean to you? Do they make you feel comfortable or do they challenge you? Are you so used to naming Jesus in one particular way, that you have forgotten that words cannot contain him? This week, as we stand on the threshold of exploring Jesus’ ministry through the eyes of Matthew, try to think of all the names you use for Jesus (and the names that you do not use). Try to use some new and unfamiliar names – Lover, Pain-bearer, Friend – how do they change/expand the way you think of Jesus? How do they change your relationship with him?

Lamb of God, Son of God, Rabbi, Messiah, Word, light, life, the one about whom Moses in the law and the prophets spoke, the one who is coming after me, the one who ranks ahead of me, Jesus, son of Joseph of Nazareth, Son of Man – all of these and yet none of these truly captures who Jesus is. Let us not mistake the power of naming and limit Jesus to the confines of human understanding.

Jesus is a vine, not a vineyard

May 1, 2021

Easter 5 – 2021

John 15:1-8

Marian Free

In the name of Jesus our Saviour, source of our life, our nourishment and our well-being. Amen.

I am the fertile soil. I am the warm sun. I am the source of comfort. 

If I, or anyone else were to make such claims you would think that we were mad. Yet Jesus makes several such assertions: “I am the bread of life, I am living water, I am the true vine, I am the good shepherd, I am the light of the world, I am the resurrection and the life, and I am the way the truth and the life”.  At least seven times Jesus claims “I AM”. At face value these statements hold a great deal of meaning. Jesus is telling his disciples that if they place their trust in him he will protect them from harm, he will be their light in the darkest of times, he will be their source of goodness and strength and he will satisfy their deepest needs. 

As you know, the Gospel of John is rich with symbolism, so we should not be surprised that there is much more to this imagery than first meets the eye. In fact there are at least three different usages of the expression, “I AM”. It occurs without a predicate, simply as “I AM”. “Unless you believe that I AM” (7:28). “When it does happen, you will believe that “I AM” (12:19). Occasionally the phrase is used simply in the sense of “I am he”. For instance, when Jesus comes to the disciples across the water he says: “I AM do not be afraid.” Lastly, “I AM” is used with a predicate as in today’s gospel: “I AM the true vine.” 

“I AM” is the language used by God as God’s self-designation. When God appears to Moses in the burning bush and commissions him to bring the Israelites out of Egypt Moses says: “Whom shall I say sent me?” God replies: “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I AM has sent me to you’” (Ex 3:14). In using this terminology then, Jesus is identifying himself as God.

It appears from the context of the gospel that not only is John making it clear that Jesus and God are one and the same, he is also helping the community for whom he writes find an identity that does not depend on the synagogue or the Temple. A number of references suggest that the gospel was written at a time – after the destruction of the Temple – when Jews who believed in Jesus had been expelled from the synagogue (John 9:22, 12:42, 16:2). One of the goals of this gospel is to answer the question: ‘What does it mean to belong to a community that believes in Jesus and how could the community’s worship be ordered now that they could not attend the synagogue or participate in the Jewish Festivals?’ 

It is impossible to go into detail here, but one of the ways that the author of John addresses the problem is by indicating that a believer’s relationship with Jesus is sufficient because in one way or another Jesus has replaced important Jewish symbols, Festivals, and perhaps even the Temple. For example, when Jesus says: “I AM living water” and “I AM the light of the world”, he is using symbols that relate to the Festival of the Booths during which water is brought into the Temple and huge candles are lit. Several of the images in Jesus’ ‘I AM’ statements – bread, light, water, shepherding and vine – are commonly used in the Old Testament to describe the relationship between God and Israel. Jesus’ adoption of these images for himself, indicates that the relationship between God and Israel has been extended to those who believe in Jesus. The relationship between God and the people of God is no longer dependent on externals but is focussed on the person of Jesus. 

It is important to note here, that God’s relationship is with Israel as a whole and not with individual members of the people of Israel. When we remember this, the imagery takes on a whole new meaning. This is particularly the case with today’s gospel.

Jesus’ claim to be the true vine, is a reminder of our collective nature and it challenges our modern concepts of individuality. If Jesus is the vine and we are part of the vine then, as people of faith, we do not exist as individuals but as a community. One of the reasons for divisions in the church – whether at a Parish level or at international level – is that we don’t fully understand that we do not belong to the vine as individuals, but as a group. It would be a nonsense to suggest that every branch or every twig on a vine somehow existed separately. The life of the vine flows through to the whole plant in equal measure. My life in the vine is not different or separate from your life in the vine. Individual branches do not draw their sustenance from different sources but from one and the same vine. 

Being attached to the vine challenges our individualism in another way. It is only by being connected to the vine that we can bear fruit. Only if we, the branches, are receiving the life-giving sap from the vine are we able to be productive. Or put the other way around, if we bear fruit, if our life and actions show forth the presence of God in the world, it is only because we are integrally connected to each other and to Jesus the true vine who is the source of our life. Just as our life in the vine is one and the same, so it is with the fruit we produce. In this image, fruit does not mean the fruit that you produce or the fruit that I produce, it refers to the fruit that we produce together.

Jesus is the true vine, not the true vineyard. There is one vine, and we are all connected to that one vine. Let us pray that our connection to the true vine will nourish and sustain us, so that through our lives as part of the community of faith we may collectively bear fruit that reflects the source from which it comes. 

Death is powerless

February 27, 2021

Lent 2 – 2021

Mark 8:31-38

Marian Free

In the name of God who invites us to risk everything in order to gain more than we can imagine. Amen.

Some of you may have seen the 2018 movie that was loosely based on Mary Magdalene. I have to admit that I found it unsatisfying and historically inaccurate. Apart from anything else, it appeared to set the story of Jesus in the period of the Jewish insurrection against Rome, in particular the time when Vespasian and his son were sent by Nero to quell the rebellion that had begun in 66 CE. At that time nearly every Jewish rebel in Caesarea and in northern Galilee was slaughtered. In fact up to 10,000 Judeans were killed or sold into slavery at that time. The movie provides vivid imagery of the butchery and of the resulting antipathy of the Judeans towards Rome. In the movie it is the character of Judas who is most convincing. Judas is depicted as a young man who is keen to rise up against the oppressors in vengeance for the losses that he has experienced. He finally hands Jesus over to the authorities because it is clear that Jesus will not be the revolutionary leader that he had hoped for.

In reality, Jesus’ ministry took place some thirty to forty years before the uprising and its suppression. While life under the Romans was difficult in Jesus’ time, it was not accompanied by the level of violence that occurred during and immediately after the insurrection. There is not even concrete evidence that there were garrisons of Roman soldiers in Galilee during Jesus’ lifetime. That said, the Romans were foreigners who had installed their own administrators and even appointed priests to the Temple. Herod was known to be cruel, and Pilate too had a reputation for brutality. Crucifixion appears to have been a common punishment for rebellion. So there was no love lost between the citizens of Israel and their Roman overlords and there were often bands of zealots and messianic figures who gathered followers to try to defeat the Romans. 

It may surprise you to know that at the beginning of the first century CE there was no fixed idea of a messiah. Despite the unified picture that we have, based on the New Testament evidence, there is no one, fixed expectation as to how God would save Israel. In line with God’s promise to David (that there would always be someone to sit on his throne), some people expected a kingly (military) figure to intervene on Israel’s behalf. Others thought that God would send a prophet of the like of Moses; or that Elijah would return. Still others hoped that God would send a priestly figure to restore Temple worship and return the hearts of the people to God. The community responsible for the Dead Sea Scrolls had a foot in many camps. They expected God to intervene in history by sending a military figure, a king and a priest.

What the people of Israel did not expect (despite the imagery of the suffering servant in Isaiah) was a saviour who would suffer and die and who would expect his followers to share in the same fate. It is no wonder that Peter is so shocked by Jesus’ announcement that he begins to rebuke Jesus. In his mind what Jesus is saying must seem to be utter nonsense. No one can save a people by dying! What is more, the disciples have witnessed Jesus’ healing power and his influence over the crowds. The evidence before them is of someone whose mission – even if it isn’t conventional – is at least successful. And hasn’t Peter recently been commended for identifying Jesus as God’s anointed (the messiah)? Peter and the other disciples must be completely stunned that Jesus is now claiming that he must suffer and must die.

Peter, it seems, has been so caught up in Jesus’ apparent “success” that he has failed to see the counter-cultural nature of Jesus’ mission. He has not seen how Jesus’ determination to associate with sinners, to support the marginalised and outcast and to critique the practices of the Pharisees has alienated and antagonised those who are invested in the status quo. Peter has been so caught up in his own hopes and dreams that he has not seen how Jesus’ commitment to show compassion in defiance of any religious tradition that might impede it, was leading him directly into confrontation with the leaders of the Judeans – a confrontation that would end badly for Jesus.

Over the last few weeks our readings have allowed us to focus on the person and nature of Jesus. We have learned that he was comfortable in his own skin, so sure of himself that he did not need to prove himself and did not need recognition, power or material goods. Jesus’ transfiguration provided evidence that Jesus was not bound by time and space, but that should lead us to lose sight of the fact that Jesus was fully human and that his full humanity is absolutely essential for our salvation[1].

At this point in Jesus’ ministry, Peter’s vision was narrow and was determined by his own hopes and dreams. After Jesus’ death and resurrection, Peter’s understanding developed to the point where he was able to follow in Jesus’ footsteps and to take up his cross and follow where Jesus had led.

If we too follow Jesus’ counter-cultural example, if we stand beside and for the marginalised and the oppressed it is possible that we too will antagonise those who prefer the world as it is rather than the world as it could be. As followers of Jesus, we are called to do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with our God. If that leads to the cross we should not flinch because, as Jesus has both taught and demonstrated, if we lose our lives we will gain our lives and that death, even physical death cannot ultimately contain us.


[1] See the sermons for the last three weeks. 

Is God masquerading as a human being or is Jesus fully human?

February 20, 2021

Lent 1 – 2021

Mark 1:9-15

Marian Free

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

I am aware that a number of people struggle with the idea that Jesus is fully human. That is not really surprising. It is an extraordinarily difficult concept to get one’s head around and yet the belief that Jesus is fully human and fully divine is at the centre of our faith – as we confess each week in the Nicene Creed. 

The significance of Jesus full humanity is clearly illustrated in two lines from this morning’s gospel. “And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.” Something external – the Spirit of God – drove Jesus the human into the wilderness. There his true mettle was tested. Without food, water, shelter or even human contact would he succumb to the temptation to take short cuts or would he trust in God to see him through? Would he complain and wish himself at home (as did the Israelites did in the desert) or would he have faith that God would sustain him? Would he try to take control of the situation or would he allow himself to be completely vulnerable?

It is precisely because Jesus is human that the wilderness experience has any value. In the absence of any physical comfort Jesus learns that he is able to rely on God for nourishment. Without human companionship, Jesus discovers that God’s presence has followed him into the barrenness of the desert. It is as a human being that Jesus faces the privations of the desert. It is as a human being that he deals with hunger and loneliness and the voices that taunt him. It is as a human being that Jesus confronts Satan.  

If Jesus is simply God – all of this becomes meaningless. The wilderness would not be a test because God would not be impacted by hunger, fear or loneliness. Forty days would be as nothing to God who created time and space and Satan would be no match because God is strongly than Satan and it is impossible for God to be tempted. 

The whole point of the Incarnation, of God’s coming to earth among us, is that God chooses to fully share our human existence, to become one of us. It is only by fully inhabiting the human condition that Jesus is able to redeem the human condition. Jesus can save humanity from itself precisely by being human, by demonstrating in his own (human) life that our human nature is not an impediment to our divinity. Through the human Jesus, we are reminded that are we created in the image of God and we can be restored to our original place in creation. 

It is only because he is human that Jesus is able to reverse the damage done to our relationship with God inflicted by that first human – Adam. Adam was disobedient, Jesus was obedient. Adam desired to be as God. Jesus resisted the temptation to compete with God. Adam sought control; Jesus chose submission. Jesus demonstrated that we, as human beings, do not have to be determined by Adam’s misstep, but that we can choose a different way of being, a different way of relating to God. He demonstrated in his own life that it is possible to transcend the limitations of being human. 

Examples of Jesus’ humanity abound in Mark’s gospel. Jesus eats and drinks and sleeps. He is compassionate (1:41) angry and sad (3:5, 11:14,15). He expresses amazement (6:6). He becomes tired (4:38) and needs to find time and space for himself (6:30f). He sighs and groans (7:34, 8:12) and becomes annoyed (10:14). He gets frustrated and impatient with his disciples (4:40, 8:21, 8:31) to the extent of calling Peter ‘Satan’. He becomes indignant when the disciples send the children away (10:14). His miracles do not always work the first time (8:22-26) and he does not display foreknowledge (he doesn’t know who touches him). He allows the Syrophoenician woman to challenge him and to change his mind. He is disappointed in, critical of (7:9f, 8:15) and rude to the Pharisees (7). 

In the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus was distressed and agitated, he confessed to being deeply grieved and prayed that God might spare him (14:33f). He experienced betrayal at the hands of two of his inner circle and finally, he was arrested, beaten and crucified. Jesus died, really died – if he did not then the resurrection means nothing.

I put it to you that if Jesus is simply God masquerading as a human being then our faith becomes a nonsense. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to believe in a God who just pretends to be one of us, who is play-acting sharing our experience and who does not really know what it is to be one of us. Because if God is just pretending, Jesus’ torment in the garden becomes a farce, as does his agony and confusion on the cross, not to mention his frustration, his exhaustion and his grief. If Jesus is God impersonating us his death means nothing. 

The reality is that God does not and did not need to go through the drama of coming to earth if God did not believe that by sharing our experience God could somehow enrich that experience, remind us of our true nature and awaken the divinity that resides within each one of us. God, being God could simply have waved his hands and reversed everything that had gone wrong since creation. God, being God, could simply have bent us to God’s will. From the beginning of time, God has not enforced God’s will, but has allowed us to choose our own way. 

The whole point of the salvation event is God’s identification with God’s creation. God in Jesus became one of us to show us creation at its very best and to remind us of what we were intended to be. As the orthodox would say: “Jesus became fully human so that we might become fully divine.” Can we honour that intention this Lent?

Being truly oneself is to be truly God’s

February 6, 2021

Epiphany 5 – 2021

Mark 1:29-39

Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, in whose eyes we are perfect. Amen.

When I was a child, children used to receive prizes for being the most regular attendees at Sunday School. The prizes were always books. I don’t remember how many I received, but I have clear memories of two. One was the biblical story of Ruth and the other told a story of Jesus as a little boy – as a good and obedient child. I have no idea what the content of the latter was, but one of the illustrations has stuck in my memory. Over time, the image may have shifted a little, but in essence it is the same. There is a woman in a kitchen with a child at her feet. For some reason, I remember the woman dressed in clothes that were fashionable in the 1950’s but I may have added that detail.  What I am sure of is that the toys with which the child was playing included painted wooden blocks and other toys that would have been popular in my childhood – but not in the time of Jesus. 

As an adult, influenced by that book, I searched the gospels in vain for stories of Jesus as a child. Surely, somewhere in the gospels there was evidence to back up the story. No. The only record that we have of Jesus before he begins his ministry is the account of the twelve-year-old in the Temple where, like any adolescent, he is presuming an independence beyond his years and causing his parents great anxiety.[1]

According to the canonical gospels, Jesus simply bursts on the scene after John begins preaching repentance and baptising penitents in the river Jordan. Apart from Luke’s account of Jesus’ precocious wisdom, there is no record of his childhood, his adolescence or his early adult years. Mark’s gospel simply tells us that he was a carpenter (or craftsman) and Matthew’s gospel only that he was the son of a carpenter. Beyond that we have no actual details. Based on the gospels we can conjecture that Jesus’ ability to argue with the Pharisees implies that he was well-versed in the Hebrew scriptures and we can speculate he regularly attended the synagogue. The fact that his early ministry was based in Galilee suggests that he didn’t travel far as a young man and the fact that he was in Capernaum when he called the four fishermen leads to the conclusion that he was resident there at that time. His baptism by John hints that he was one of John’s followers before he struck out on his own.

We can, I think, also conjecture that Jesus was his own person, that he was completely self-contained. Whatever his childhood was like, it seems that he grew into someone who was comfortable in his own skin and who did not need to be affirmed by the externals of power, wealth or appreciation. The evidence for this is compelling. Jesus was not afraid to speak his mind – even when to do so meant making enemies. He did not seek recognition, praise or affirmation even though that would have some easily. He did what was right with no expectation that he would be rewarded, and he gave himself completely without expecting anything in return.

From the very beginning of his ministry, Jesus made it quite clear that he was not and would not be dependent on externals to give his life meaning, or even to help him gather a following. So, when Satan tempted him in the wilderness, Jesus did not give in to the allure of power, showmanship or material gain. He did not need any of these things because he did not feel the need to prove himself to anyone. Jesus knew who he was and knew who he was before God.  Jesus’ confidence, his sense of self, came – not from anything he had or anything that he could do – but from a relationship with God that gave him the certain knowledge that he was valued and loved. This informed everything that he did. Jesus’ relationship with God meant that he was secure in himself. He was liberated from any need to feel important, freed from any desire to have power or control over others (or even over himself) and he did not require possessions, achievements or even followers to reassure himself of his own worth. 

Today’s gospel is a perfect example of Jesus’ self-assurance, of his commitment to his mission and not to his own aggrandisement and of his unwillingness to create a movement that was centred on him[2]. Mark’s gospel began with demonstrations of Jesus’ authority and power. Jesus had taught with authority, he had rebuked a demon, healed Peter’s mother-in-law, cured many and cast out many demons. By any account that would be enough to draw a crowd and to form a popular movement. It would have been so easy for Jesus to stay where he was, basking in adulation and enjoying his popularity. It certainly would have been safer. But when Jesus’ disciples tell him that “everyone is searching for him”, he insists that the good news must be proclaimed elsewhere and he, with them, moves on.  

Jesus understood that his role was to liberate, heal and restore others, not to promote or to advantage himself.

As we approach Lent, we are challenged to place our own lives under the microscope – to fast from, or free ourselves from those things on which we have become dependent. I can think of no better place to start than considering how reliant we are on the good opinion of others or how much our sense of worth is tied up in what we own and what we have achieved or how dependent we are on having control over our own lives or worse, over the lives of others.

Jesus knew who he was and knew that he was valued by God. This liberated him to think of others and not himself. If we are to truly follow Jesus, we too need to find that inner sense of worth that frees us from striving for recognition, for influence or personal gain.

Jesus freed himself from everything that might constrain and limit his ministry and his relationship with others. I wonder what we might decide to let go of this Lent? 


[1] In “The Infancy Gospel of Thomas” the child Jesus not only heals and raises from the dead, but he also strikes down (dead) those who disagree with or provoke him. The child Jesus in this gospel is disrespectful not only to his parents but also to his teachers. It is unlikely that we would want to include in our canon something that describes Jesus as a punitive, vindictive child which makes us think that the Gospel is just that “apocryphal”.

[2] Remember too, that before Jesus does anything else, he chooses others to share his ministry. Jesus was never a “one-man band”.

Context is important

August 22, 2020
Pan’s Cave Caesarea Philippi

Pentecost 12 – 2020

Matthew 16:13-20

Marian Free

In the name of God who knows what we need to hear and speaks to us where we are. Amen.

Context is everything. Some years ago, the well-known broadcaster and journalist, Philip Adams was invited to address the VFL[1] Grand Final breakfast, this, despite his well-known aversion for the game. Attendees at the breakfast included die-hard fans, high-ranking officials and very often even the Prime Minister of the day. Strangely, for such an experienced writer/speaker, Adams chose that venue and that audience to mock the sport that they all held dear. Adams reports that he “explained to the crowd that Aussie Rules was, in fact, an ancient fertility rite. Like Easter”, he said, “it is all about eggs. The footy is an egg. The game is played on an egg-shaped oval. The goal posts are there to be impregnated” and so on[2]. Needless to say, no one thought that he was remotely funny. Adam’s address was met with horrified silence.  He had completely misjudged his audience. There might have been a place to mock Australian Rules Football, but this was not it. 

If we want to get our message across, if we want people to laugh at our jokes, or to be shocked into changing their ideas or to be comforted by our platitudes we have to be sensitive to our audience. We have to ask ourselves – what is their starting point? what can I say that will speak to their situation? what language will help them to understand what I want to say? Will my words be helpful, or will they add to someone’s pain? 

The gospel writers were masters of context. Each author tailored their retelling of Jesus’ story in a way that they felt would speak directly to their listeners, that would meet them where they were in their faith journey and would draw them into a deeper understanding of that faith.  Their goal, as the gospel of John specifically says: “These are written so so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name” (Jn 20:31). 

In other words, the gospel writers knew the importance of setting out their accounts in such a way as to give the listeners the best chance of grasping the message of Jesus the Christ. At the same time, they could confront, through their re-telling of Jesus’ stories and miracles, the anxieties and the shortcomings of the communities. Matthew, Mark and Luke were writing to completely different communities – to people with different backgrounds, different experiences of the world and people whose contexts differed greatly. Being sensitive to the needs and experiences of their listeners, each author ordered his account and adapted his story-telling to ensure that the communities for whom they wrote heard what they needed to hear in their current situation – a situation that was vastly different from the time of Jesus and which had its own challenges for the emerging believers. 

Mark’s version of today’s gospel with that of Matthew for this reason. Both authors place Peter’s confession in the vicinity of the city of Caesarea Philippi but there are subtle and not so subtle differences in the telling. Mark emphasises movement not place, journey not destination. His language implies movement. “Jesus was asking (the question is repeated) his disciples while they were on the way (Jesus and the disciples are moving from one place to another).” Movement is an important of Mark’s setting, but so too is his language. “On the way,” is a phrase that Mark uses repeatedly as shorthand for discipleship. Mark presents Peter’s recognition of Jesus as a stage in the journey of discipleship. As we shall see, despite Peter’s declaration that Jesus is the Christ, he has no idea what this means. His declaration is a stage in the journey, not the end of the story.

Matthew’s emphasis is primarily on place or at least the significance of place. Jesus has come into the district of Caesarea Philippi. He is stationary not moving. Caesarea Philippi was close to a cave and a spring that were dedicated to the Greek god Pan and was believed to be the entrance to the underworld. Herod the Great had built a Temple to Caesar Augustus here to curry favour with the Emperor. The region was inherited by Herod’s son Philip who made it his administrative headquarters and dedicated it to the then Caesar. Caesarea Philippi was important for other reasons. It was near a major trade route and it was the place to which the commander of the Roman army had returned to celebrate with his troops after they had crushed Jerusalem. In other words, it was a place that was redolent with symbolism – of power, religion and economic viability. 

Whereas in Mark, Jesus’ question: “Who do you say that I am?” is primarily a question about Jesus’ identity, in Matthew the question has more to do with allegiance. Matthew’s readers are being challenged to ask themselves in what and in whom do they trust. Are they over-reliant on their economic security? Are they tempted by their culture’s latest fancies? Do they place their trust in the power of secular rulers? Where – in the midst of all the worldly distractions – does their loyalty lie – with earthly powers or with the power revealed by Jesus, “the Christ, the Son of the living God”? 

The gospel writers knew their communities and understood their needs. They knew when to challenge and when to comfort their audience. Mark wants to move the community along the road to belief, Matthew wants them to consider where their true loyalty lies.   

Context is important. If we want to share the gospel with our contemporaries we need to understand where they are coming from. We need to recognise and understand their longings and their fears, their strengths and their weaknesses so that we can speak in a way that will touch their hearts, utter a message that responds to their deepest needs and offer a word that will bring them into the presence of the living God.


[1] For overseas readers, VFL in those days highly parochial. Most Melbourne suburbs had their teams and followers were fiercely loyal even fanatical in the way of many soccer fans.

[2] Reported by Phillip Adams The Australian Magazine, August 15-16, 2020.

Jesus – truly one with us

December 29, 2018

Christmas 1 – 2018

Luke 2: 41-51

Marian Free

In the name of God whose human existence was real and gritty, not superficial and sanitized. Amen.

Prior to the 1960’s there were no such things as shopping malls in Queensland. All the department stores were in the central city so, when it came to Christmas shopping, it was to the city that my mother took us so that we could spend our pocket money on gifts for each other. On one such occasion – I think I was about five years old – I became separated from my mother. I have no recollection of being anxious or frightened. What I do remember, is that when my mother found me, I was safely ensconced on a trestle table that was being used by a group of women to sell Christmas craft. Then, as now, society in general took it upon itself to take responsibility for children in such situations. The primary goal being to care for the child and to reunite the child with his or her parents as expeditiously as possible..

There are societies, those of the New Guinea highlands and our own indigenous culture for example, in which children are the responsibility of all the members of the community. Mothers can let their children roam free confident that everyone will see it as their responsibility to keep the children safe. The sort of ownership and personal responsibility that we feel for our children would be unknown. I’ve been told of an Australian family who, having come to Townsville from Darwin for a funeral, arrived home without one of their children. Instead of being mortified that a child had been left behind, or angry that the child had stayed behind, this family was utterly confident that the child was safe, would be well-looked after and would rejoin them at the next opportunity. (Thankfully, The Department of Children’s Services understood that this was a cultural practice and took no action against the family whose child was reunited with them as soon as it was feasible.)

It is against this sort of background that we have to read the account of Jesus in the Temple. Mary and Joseph were not careless parents who had failed to check on their child’s whereabouts when they left Jerusalem. No doubt they had travelled from Nazareth with a group of friends and relations to attend the feast. When it was time to return home, they would have simply trusted Jesus to have joined the group when everyone was ready to leave – after all he was nearly a man. They would have assumed that he was with cousins or friends whose parents would have treated him as one of their own. In this context there was no need for them to look for their son until the evening when, presumably, he would have joined his immediate family for dinner. Only then did they begin to worry.

Luke, at least in the beginning of the Jesus’ story, does not allow us to forget that this is an account of a real human situation. Jesus belongs to a real family that has the same hopes and dreams, the same flaws, the same irritations and the same anxieties. It is intriguing that across the four gospels we have only one story of Jesus’ childhood and it is the story of a rebellious teenager, or at the very least, of a young man testing his limits – letting his parents know that he is now an adult who can make his own decisions and that he has a vocation to fulfill in which they have no part. His stinging response to Mary’s anxious reproach is to wonder why his parents did not expect him to be in h

‘his Father’s house’. It is the sort of exchange that might occur in any modern household with teenage children.

Later accounts of Jesus’ birth like the Infancy Gospel of Thomas could not cope with such a messy, earthy, ordinary human start to Jesus’ life. For example, in some accounts, just prior to Jesus’ birth, time stands still, midwives appear apparently out of nowhere, the cave is unnaturally lit – by both the child and by Mary’s face. Mary experiences no birth pangs and the child is born completely clean. The birth does not affect Mary’s virginity and the hand of the skeptical midwife withers. In the History of Joseph the Carpenter, the family are taken into the home of a brigand. There, Jesus is bathed and his bath water bubbles up into a foam. The brigand’s wife keeps the foam and uses it to heal the sick and the dying. As a result the family become rich. In these later accounts not only is Jesus’ birth attended with miracles, the escape to Egypt is facilitated by the miracle of a spider’s web and the young Jesus performs miracles and even strikes dead a child who offends him! These later writers could not bear to think that the child Jesus was any less powerful, capable or wise than the adult Jesus.

The absence of somewhere to stay, the insalubrious surroundings of a stable, the visit of the shepherds and the teenager stretching his wings in the Temple are all reminders that we should not isolate Jesus from his very human beginnings or elevate him to the position of a superhuman being. Luke’s Gospel could not spell it out more clearly – Jesus is fully human, fully immersed in the messiness of human existence, susceptible to the same desires as any other human being and subject to some of the same fears. Luke brings Jesus down to earth, reminds us that in Jesus God fully immersed godself in the mundaneness of human existence and that despite being God, Jesus was not insulated from the reality of being one of us.

Jesus/God knows what it is to be one of us and shows us that it is possible for us, mere human beings, to become as he is. We just have to believe that this frail human body with all it’s complexities and this weak, indecisive mind is capable of great and extraordinary things. One of the messages of Christmas is that Jesus became one of us so that we could become one with him. Let us celebrate our human existence and try to live it to it’s full, divine potential.

A Jewish Christian view

June 17, 2017

Pentecost 2 – 2017

Matthew 9:35-10:42[1]

Marian Free

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

Thanks to the interruption of Lent and Easter, you may be forgiven if you had forgotten that this is the Year of Matthew. What that means is that just as we travelled through Luke last year, so this year we will make a journey through the gospel of Matthew. Matthew has many distinctive characteristics that will, I hope become obvious as we work our way through the passages set for the remainder of the year. Today I’d like to provide a broad bush stroke of some of the characteristics that set Matthew apart from Mark and Luke.

By way of reminder, it is believed that the first gospel to be written is the one that we know as the Gospel according to Mark. Within a decade, Luke and Matthew put quill to papyrus and composed their own accounts. To do this both Matthew and Luke used the gospel of Mark extensively. They have also used a common source that scholars have named Q. At the same time Luke and Matthew include material that is unique to them. In the first 12 chapters Matthew relies heavily on Q after which he follows Mark quite closely. Material that is unique to Matthew includes the parable of the 10 maidens and the parable of the sheep and the goats.

In trying to come to grips with Matthew’s gospel it is important to understand something of the background situation. The gospel is written, we think, for a Jewish Christian community in the 80’s of the first century. That is, it is written after the Jewish revolt that led the destruction of Jerusalem and, more importantly, the destruction of the Temple. The Temple was not only a symbol of unity and the liturgical centre of the Jewish faith; it was also the place where God met the people and the place in which reconciliation with God was possible. Without a Temple, the Jews had to rethink who they were and how they would continue as a people of faith.

Fortunately, the Pharisees, with their scepticism in regard to the Temple and their emphasis on the oral law, were well placed to step into the vacuum. In fact it can be argued that without them Judaism might have fallen into disarray and eventual decline. Instead their practice and teaching led to the development of rabbinic Judaism with its focus on the interpretation of the law. One consequence of this development was that there was less tolerance of difference and this included their fellow Jews who believed that Jesus was the one sent by God for their salvation.

Matthew’s community, that consisted of Jews who believed in Jesus also had to re-think who they were – in relation to the law and in relation to their ancestral religion that no longer held them to be members. Who were they in this vastly changed environment and how would they govern their life together? This search for identity and meaning explains what appears to be an over-emphasis on the law in Matthew’s gospel. While the Pharisees were building a new look for the Jewish people based on the law, the Jews who believed in Jesus had to determine what their relationship with that law would be. In the light of their relationship with Jesus, would they abandon the law altogether, would they transform the law or would they keep the law more rigidly even than the Pharisees?

In respect to the community’s relationship with Judaism, the author of Matthew’s gospel is determined to assert that faith in Jesus is not only consistent with Judaism but that Jesus is firmly rooted in Judaism. In the introduction, Matthew’s genealogy makes it clear that Jesus is descended from Abraham (the founder of the Judaism) and of David (from whom the Messiah was to come). What is more, over and over again (explicitly and implicitly) Matthew makes it clear that Jesus is not only the fulfilment of the Old Testament promises but he replaces the Temple as the way in which the people are reconciled to God.

Because the law and its interpretation take centre stage in this gospel; Jesus is presented as the new Moses – the one who gives the law and who interprets the law.

Just as significant as the setting of the gospel is the way in which Matthew has organised his account. Matthew takes the material that is available to him and arranges it in a way that sayings and stories that have a common theme are gathered together in the same place. It is possible to discern five distinct discourses or sermons each of which concludes: “when Jesus had finished saying these things”. The parables of growth are found in chapter 13, teaching about community life is located in chapter 18 and instructions for the disciples in chapter 10. Accounts of Jesus’ healing and casting out demons are concentrated in chapters 8 and 9.

Today’s reading bridges two sections of the gospel – it concludes the accounts of Jesus’ healing ministry and leads into Jesus’ instructions for the Twelve, the second of the five discourses. Interestingly, the setting for this sermon is very similar to that of the Sermon on the Mount – Jesus is going about Galilee proclaiming the kingdom the curing disease. On this occasion, instead of Jesus’ healing being followed by teaching, Jesus’ compassion for the crowds is followed by action, that extends his ability to respond. He summons the twelve and equips them to cast out unclean spirits and to cure every disease and sickness. In other words, they are authorised to all that Jesus does.

The discourse continues by telling the twelve how they are to go and what they can expect along the way, but the lectionary makes us wait till next week for that.

Matthew’s gospel is a rich treasure trove to be examined and explored. It reveals an aspect of early church development that we find nowhere else and it presents a view of Jesus that is both similar to and different from that of the other gospels. For the remainder of the year we will be working our way through Matthew’s Gospel. Can I encourage you to read the gospel for yourselves, to have the courage to question it and to tease out things that you do not understand? Let us take this journey together – tell me if my explanations are not clear and share with me the parts that you find difficult or incomprehensible. As we probe the text together we will discover more about what make Matthew’s gospel distinct and why.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[1] The reading for the day is much shorter, but the sermon gives an overview of the chapter.

The teenage years – the adolescent Jesus

December 29, 2012

Christmas 1

Luke 2:41-52

Marian Free

 

In the name of God, who nurtures and encourages us, and who sets us free to make our own way in the world. Amen.

We all know that a parent bird literally forces a fledgling out of the nest so that it learns how to fly. If it is not pushed, it may never stretch its wings and become independent. It will be unable to survive unless the parent birds plan to lay no more eggs and feed the baby bird forever.

One of the things that I learnt as a parent was this – that good parenting, or at least reasonably good parenting, involves the costly task of letting go. That is, if we do the task of parenting well, what we are doing is preparing our children not to be parented. We engage in the task of ensuring that our children do not need us. The role into which we put so much energy and love is one that if done well inevitably leads to hurt, loss and separation. Our task, difficult as it may seem, is to prepare our children for independence – to love them so much that instead of holding on to them we set them free.

There are at least four stages of separation before our children actually leave the nest.

Each of these stages can create pain, stress and disharmony within the family as the relationships between parent and child are forced to change and adapt to the shifting situations. At least in recent history, it appears that unlike birds, we do not have an in-built trait which is automatically triggered when our children reach a particular stage of development. Our instinct is often to maintain control rather than to let go. Wehave to struggle with the process of our offspring’s growing maturity. Most of us find it difficult to be totally gracious about our children’s growing independence – or at least about the unsettling way in which their quest to separate themselves disrupts what has been a comfortable family life.

All separation is painful. Not only is the process of birth agonizing in a physical sense, but a mother also has to accept that the child, which was an integral part of her, can now exist – at least breathe and eat – independently. She is still needed, but she has to adapt to being needed in a different way. After two years, a child begins to exert pressure to be further identified as an independent individual. The so-called “terrible twos” are simply part of the process as a child makes the journey from dependence to independence. For many families this is a difficult time as parents try to find the balance between giving the child an opportunity to express themselves and at the same time creating boundaries so that the child learns the limits and gains a sense of security.

If this stage is negotiated successfully there may be a time of relative tranquility until the child reaches adolescence. Then, once again, the child will test the limits, make demands for independence and disrupt the pattern of relationships which have been developed and which have allowed the family unit to operate smoothly. Unlike the terrible twos, this is a stage which may extend over a number of years and which may force the final stage to come sooner rather than later. Teenagers often have no understanding of and certainly no sympathy for their parent’s concerns. They know that they will be safe at their friend’s party. They are sure that no harm will come to them if they go out with their friends and so on. On the other hand, parents often do not readily accept that their child is responsible or that their child is capable of making sensible decisions and looking after themselves. Parents know what can happen and take some time to accept that their child is ready for the world.

Finally, the young person is ready to step out on their own, to make their way. Tears at weddings reflect pride, but also a recognition that the person into whom so much was poured can now go it alone. All the love, all the nurture that the parent has provided have led to their child going off on their own.

Today’s gospel has many parts, of which one is Jesus’ adolescence. In this episode the twelve year old Jesus is demonstrating his growing awareness of who he is, he is asserting his independence, separating from his birth family and shifting his allegiance to another cause. In other words he is being a typical adolescent. Jesus has been brought by his parents to Jerusalem – as he has been for the past eleven years. As a twelve year old he has presumably been given some independence which he uses to make up his own mind that he does not need to leave at the same time as the rest of the family. His parents, who have trusted him to be responsible are, not surprisingly, filled with anxiety when they realize he is not with the return party and they begin an anxious search for him.

When they finally discover him, Jesus behaves like a normal adolescent. He cannot understand why they should have been so worried. He knew that he was perfectly safe and capable of looking after himself! Jesus’ response to his mother’s question is one of surprise: “Why were you looking for me?” He dismisses his parent’s anxiety, and as other adolescents have done since, accuses them of ignorance: “Didn’t you know?” This is a typical twelve year old who believes that he is all grown up and who thinks that his parents (who are stupid) should have caught up with that fact.

It is very easy to read the story of Jesus in the Temple in a pious way, but it is just as valid to see this account as further evidence of Jesus’ humanity.

Certainly, the author of Luke uses the account to make a transition from the story of Jesus’ birth to the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. He is also making the Temple a central character as he does at both the beginning and end of the Gospel, he is introducing the reader to Jesus’ superior wisdom, suggesting Jesus’ strong ties to God the Father, making links with the birth narrative (Mary treasured all these things in her heart) and with Simeon’s prediction (a sword will pierce your own heart). None of these must be allowed to paper over the picture of Jesus’ behaving as any other teenage boy asserting his independence, trying to break free of the parental shackles and seeking to be treated as an adult.

It is clear that “in the memory of the Lukan community, Jesus appeared not only as the son of the divine Father, but also in complete humanity, as a maturing boy[1].”

God as Jesus fully identified with our human situation in order that God might redeem our humanity and restore our divinity. In our own quest for divinity, we need not reject our humanity, but embrace it and, with God’s help make what we can of it.


[1] Bovon, Francois. (Trans Christine M. Thomas). Luke 1. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2002, 113.