Archive for the ‘John’s Gospel’ Category

Three in one and one in Three – Trinity

May 30, 2026

Trinity Sunday – 2026

Matthew 28:16-20

Marian Free

In the name of God source of all being, Word of life, Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Icon of the Trinity by Andrei Rublev[1], is perhaps the most commonly used depiction of the Trinity. Created in the early 15th century, the work depicts three figures seated at an outdoor table. They are facing each other and there is a chalice or bowl on the table between them. It is a believed that Rublev was, at least in part, inspired by Genesis 18:1-2 “The LORD appeared to Abraham by the oaks of Mamre, as he sat at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day. He looked up and saw three men standing near him.” The Lord appeared as three men. Abraham welcomed the men and Sarah provided them with food. 

In this somewhat domestic scene, the three are sharing from a common bowl, deep (it would seem) in conversation. The positioning of the figures is such that room is left at the foreground, no one has their back to us and the openness of the figures combined with the gestures of their hands suggests an invitation to the viewer – “do join us”. This sense of invitation is reinforced by what some scholars believe to have been a small mirror inserted into the now empty rectangular hole in the centre front of the table[2]. The mirror would the face of the viewer, making them the fourth person at the table, bringing them into communion with the Trinity.

These speculations coincide with the images of the Trinity that we find in the fourth gospel and the letters of Paul. (Not that the word “Trinity” existed at that time, but that John’s gospel gives us a glimpse of the first Christians’ lived experience of the three-fold God. Rather than struggling to come up with careful academic definitions of the Trinity, the early church appears to have unselfconsciously taken for granted that the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, though distinct were also one and that in coming to faith believers were drawn into the relationship between the three. 

The eighth chapter of Romans provides a good example of this, Paul uses the language of Christ Jesus, the Spirit and the Father interchangeably. He doesn’t seem to feel any need to explain the connection between the two but expects those to whom he is writing will share his experience of God as Father, Christ and Spirit[3]. Believers are brought into this relationship through “the Spirit of the one (God) who raised Jesus from the dead”. (Romans 8:11)

In John’s gospel too, as we have seen, believers become an integral part of the three-fold God.

Through language such as abiding in, being one with, and seeing, John expresses the unity between Jesus, the Father and the Spirit. Though the three persons of the Trinity are separate, John understands that they are in some way so intertwined that to know one is to know all. Being a part of this intimate relationship is extended to the disciples as Jesus says in his Farewell Discourse: “On that day you will know that I am in my Father and you in me and I in you.” (John 14:18).

Throughout the gospel Jesus has emphasised the closeness of his relationship with the Father, so close that to see/know Jesus is to see the Father[4]. Now Jesus introduces the Spirit into this relationship. Through the gift of the Spirit the disciples are included in the divine relationship: “the Spirit abides with you and will be with you.” “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them”(14:23). 

As the members of the Trinity make their home with us, so we are drawn into the eternal and inseparable union of the Father, Son and Spirit. As Chelsea Harmon puts it: “Our eternal destiny is to exist among the persons of the Trinity.” As we have seen (Easter 7), for John eternal life begins now. We are united now in an unbreakable bond with the Trinity. Death cannot break the relationship that we have formed in the present, because we are already caught up in the eternity that is the Triune God.

The Trinity, which is the community of Father, Son and Spirit, invites us into the very heart of God, into a relationship with the divine which is immutable and everlasting. It is a mystery which no words can adequately describe, and no theories can possibly explain.


[1] Also known as The Hospitality of Abraham.

[2] There are still traces of glue on the icon

[3] For example, Romans 8:1 “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.  

2 For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death.  3 For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do: by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and to deal with sin, he condemned sin in the flesh.”

[4] Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. (John 14:10)

Breathing in the Spirit – Pentecost

May 23, 2026

Pentecost – 2026

John 20:19-23

Marian Free

In the name of God who breathed life into creation, who breathed the Spirit onto the disciples, and who continues to empower us through that same breath. Amen.

Breathing is essential to life. Without breath we die.

Over recent decades an interest in Eastern religions has taught us the importance of breath – to slow us down, help us to focus, and to reduce stress. Breathing techniques are an important aspect of a number of forms of meditation and their ability to help a person calm down and/or to breathe well has been recognised by medical doctors and psychologists and other professionals.  Exercise physiologists know the importance of the breath for oxygenating our muscles. 

In a spiritual or religious sense, the very act of being still and focusing on the breath is a way to stop the constant activity of the brain, to free us from distractions and to enable us to be fully in the present and to be present to the Spirit in and around us.

Breathing is essential to life. Without breath we die.

Breath is not empty it contains within it moisture, nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide and number of trace elements that provide a way for medicos to determine a person’s metabolic health. Breath is also intimate and transactional as we learnt to our cost during COVID. We breathe in air that others have breathed out. They breathe in air that we have expelled. We take in something of them and they of us. This means of course that viruses and germs can be transmitted from one person to another through the simple act of breathing. It is not all negative. The breath of one person can resuscitate another when their breath has stopped. The breath of one can enter another for good and for ill. 

In John’s gospel the giving of the Holy Spirit is a very intimate and personal event, vastly different from the wind and flames of Luke’s account of the Day of Pentecost.  The only detail that the two accounts have in common is the gathering of disciples “in a room”. According to John the giving (transferring) of the Holy Spirit occurred in the evening of the day of Jesus’ resurrection, when the terrified and grieving disciples are still in shock. The disciples (not Thomas[1]) are together in a locked room “for fear of the Jews.” Without any kind of fanfare, Jesus comes among them, offers them “peace” and, perhaps to assure them that it is actually him, he shows them his hands and side. He gives them “peace” for a second time before – in what may be an unwelcome gift for the disciples who now know the consequence of Jesus’ mission – Jesus commissions them to continue his work in the world. Then he breathes the Spirit on them – what was his is now theirs including the power to forgive and to hold[2].

All this John records in just five verses – appearance, assurance, commission and equipping for ministry and the authority to forgive.

The account in Acts is vastly different. It has none of the details recorded by John. Instead, Luke depicts a dramatic, terrifying, life-changing event – a violent wind, flames of fire, and speaking in a cacophony of other languages. (The commissioning of the disciples has already occurred, immediately before Jesus’ ascension into heaven.) Now they spill on to the street, “speaking about God’s deeds of power” with so much noise that they draw the attention of the crowds. Then follows a long speech from Peter who explains the events of Jesus and the prediction that the Spirit would be poured out on all flesh. This plus some information about those who believed as a result takes all of 47 verses to report.

Such a public, noisy, impersonal event stands in stark contrast to the simple, quiet, personal experience of John’s gospel. In Luke the disciples are fired up, driven and empowered by the Holy Spirit to declare the gospel. The risen Jesus doesn’t play a role.  Having remained with the disciples for some 40 days after the resurrection, Jesus has now been absent for a week or so. In that time the disciples have been inactive – waiting for the promised Holy Spirit. 

John places Jesus right at the centre. Jesus who has promised the disciples that they will not be left alone and who has assured them that he will send the Holy Spirit now, on the very day of resurrection, comes in person to provide proof of his resurrection, to give comfort and assurance to his grieving, frightened friends, to send them out to continue his work and to equip them for that work by breathing the Holy Spirit on them.

Jesus breathes the Spirit into his disciples as God breathed life into the first human being. Jesus – in person – hands over something of his very self, breathing peace and power into his disciples. What was Jesus’s has now been passed on – the Spirit which empowers and equips, the Spirit that reassures and emboldens, the Spirit which enlivens and holds others fast. 

At that moment, the disciples truly become one with Jesus as Jesus is one with the Father and the Spirit. 

May we consciously breathe the Spirit in and breathe it out so that others to may experience its life-giving power.

Word to reflect on

1 Breathe on me, Breath of God, 

fill me with life anew, 

that I may love the way you love, 

and do what you would do. 

2 Breathe on me, Breath of God, 

until my heart is pure, 

until my will is one with yours, 

to do and to endure.  

3 Breathe on me, Breath of God,

and all my life refine,

until this earthly part of me

glows with your fire divine.

4 Breathe on me, Breath of God, 

so shall I never die, 

but live with you the perfect life 

for all eternity.

Edwin Hatch 1835-89





[1] Cody J. Sanders suggests this is because Thomas is the only disciple who is not afraid to be out in the world. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/day-of-pentecost/commentary-on-john-2019-23-6

[2] In the same article Sanders reminds us that the word sin doesn’t appear in the second half of Jesus’ saying. He quotes Schneiders who states: “The community that forgives sins must hold fast those whom it has brought into the community of eternal life.”

Eternity now – John 17

May 16, 2026

Easter 7 – 2026

John 17:1-11

Marian Free

In the name of Christ who came that we might have life and have it abundantly. Amen.

During the week I tuned into the radio when the programme Big Ideas was playing.  A panel of three authors were discussing the topic: “How to Live and Die Well”. At the point at which I joined the show the panel were discussing death. They were saying things like: “Getting people to talk about death is really an exercise in how to talk about life.”  “Can’t live a good life without thinking about death.” They referred to App called ‘We croak’ which five times a day reminds those who have it, that they are going to die.” Apparently, this derives from a practice in Bhutan that believes that in order to live a good life you need to remember five times a day that we are going to die. The thesis of the panelists’ argument seemed to be that being aware that we are going to die makes us more appreciative of the good things that we have in life. 

Another point of the discussion was that we do not do death well. The panelists commented that they felt that we were afraid to talk about death, that we do not plan for death and a funeral alone does not allow time for the process of saying “goodbye”.

I have to be honest, the little I heard pressed a few of my buttons. I like to think that while I love life, I am not and never was afraid of death. If we live, we die that’s the reality. 

It is probably true that our society is increasing disconnected from death. Few people die in their own beds, families no longer wash and prepare the body for burial, and it is not practical, and in some places, it is illegal, for a body to be laid out in a home for people to visit and pay their respects. The work of death happens far removed from everyday existence.

It does frustrate me however, that our increasingly secular society having rejected belief in God has also distanced itself from the rituals of the Christian faith which used to give us ways in common to mark the significant moments of our lives – birth, adolescence, marriage, and death. Those who have abandoned the Christian faith, have at the same time abandoned the cultural practices that are associated with faith, rites of passage which served to mark significant transitions in our lives – including death[1].   

Today marks the end of the Easter season – next week is Pentecost, then Trinity and then the “ordinary[2]” Sundays which take us all the way to Advent. But at the same time, Easter does not come to an end, for we are Easter people. We are Easter people because we celebrate life, but at the centre of our faith is a death – a death that was necessary for newness of life. Jesus’ death, and subsequent resurrection is ever before us, representing not only the cycle of birth and death, death and birth, but also the assurance that death of the body is not something to fear, but the beginning of something new and transformative. 

The death of Jesus is always before us, challenging us on a daily basis to undergo our own little deaths and subsequent resurrections. Indeed, much of our Christian imagery focuses on the idea of death and life, life and death. Jesus says that we must lose our life to gain it; that unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit:  Paul says that we are to die to ourselves and live to Christ. Even our baptism liturgy – based on chapter 6 of Romans speaks of being buried with Christ. Death is ever present to us, in both a literal and figurative sense. Dying and rising with Christ is a constant part of our existence as we let go of all the destructive and unhelpful elements of our lives and allow what is divine to fill us with new life. Throughout our lives we undergo so many “little deaths” that death holds no fear, because ready or not, that is when like Christ, we will be united with God, drawn into the union between the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

We do not have to wait for our physical death for this union to become a reality as Jesus said in the gospel reading for last Sunday: “Those who love me will keep my word and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them (14:23).” “We will come to them and make our home with them”. Eternal life begins when we begin to believe. As Jesus prepares his disciples for his departure, he makes it clear that those who believe do not have to wait for their physical death to begin to experience eternal life, to be part of the divine life – the life that he, Jesus, shares with the Father and the Spirit. Jesus affirms this in this morning’s gospel; “this is eternal life that they may know you, the only true God and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.”

Eternal life begins when we know God and Jesus Christ. Eternal life is to be caught up in and to be part of the relationship between the three persons of the Trinity! Eternal life is not some distant, unpredictable future event but is our lived experience as God abides in us and we in God. Eternal life is not: “pie in the sky when we die” a future hope reserved only for those who have met certain criteria. Our life with and in the Trinity begins in the here and now. Death is not the beginning of eternal life, but rather death serves to remove the final barrier – the earthy vessel of our body being the last thing we shed before being gathered to and absorbed into the divine life of the Trinity of which we have been a part all along.

This relationship with the divine is not and cannot be destroyed by death. Death is not to be feared or avoided, may our daily deaths fashion us more truly into the image of God prepare us more fully for the eternity of which we are now a part.


[1] Many of these people are adopting practices from Eastern traditions, without realising that they are not vastly dissimilar from those of the Christian faith.

[2] “Ordinary” here comes from ordinal – Sundays that are counted.

Not as orphans

May 9, 2026

Easter 6 – 2026

John 14:15-21

Marian Free

In the name of God who never leaves us to face our fears alone. Amen.

As is usual for the gospel of John, this short passage is dense and the symbolism within it is far from consistent. There are a number of themes contained in these six verses – love, keeping the commandments and Jesus’ words (which are not his but the Father’s), another Advocate, being in Jesus and in the Father, and being loved by the Father to mention just a few. Added to these is the confusing message that Jesus – who is going, is coming, and the Father will send another Advocate who, we will discover, will not come if Jesus does not go (15:7).

Of course, the author of this gospel does necessarily not want us to untangle these themes, but rather (at least as I see it) wants the ideas to seep into our consciousness where they will somehow create a coherent message – a message of Jesus’ deep love for his disciples (and for all who will follow in their footsteps). That love will empower us to behave in ways consistent with Jesus’ commandments, the primary one being love of one another. 

In this passage, as throughout chapters 14-17, Jesus is preparing his disciples for his departure. (This is one of the reasons that many scholars believe that at least some of the content is Jesus’ speaking after the resurrection.) He is alerting the disciples to the fact that his risen presence will not remain with them, at least in the way that they are experiencing in the present. He will return to the Father from whom he came, but the disciples need not despair because the Father will send the Spirit who will be with them forever. 

The relationship between the Father, and Jesus will extend to include the disciples – and all who love Jesus. Indeed, given that the Spirit will abide in the disciples, believers are assured that they are somehow caught up in the relationship between Father, Son and Spirit – that the Trinitarian[1] God abides in them and they in the threefold God.

We will learn much more about the Spirit in the following chapters – the Spirit of truth who will testify on Jesus’ behalf and who will guide the disciples into all the truth – but a key focus of this passage is Jesus’ assurance that the disciples will not be left alone. “Jesus will not leave them orphaned.”

“I will not leave you orphaned.” In the nineteenth century William Chatterton Dix incorporated these words into a hymn – “Hallelujah! not as orphans.” 

I could probably take you to the exact place where I was when these words engraved themselves into my memory and deepest being. The words are so evocative they touched me in a way that I cannot explain, so haunting that I have carried them with me since that time when I was about nine or ten years old. They, and that verse of the hymn, come to me from time to time and with them an inexplicable sense of assurance and comfort. They came to me when I was on the ordination retreat before my Diaconate and have been a refrain throughout my ministry. “Hallelujah! not as orphans are we left in sorrow now.” 

In full the verse reads:

Hallelujah! not as orphans,

are we left in sorrow now;

hallelujah! he is near us, 

faith believes, nor questions how;

though the cloud from sight received him

when the forty days were o’er,

shall our hearts forget his promise,

‘I am with you evermore’?[2]

It would be decades before I realised that Dix took these words directly from John’s gospel.

In today’s gospel, Jesus, as I have said is speaking to his disciples. We can tell from the responses of Thomas, Phillip and Judas (not Iscariot) that they are confused and anxious. After three intense years following Jesus, they are about to be without him. They have to face not only their grief but their uncertainty. What will they do? How are they to behave? Where will they find the strength?

 In this, his farewell speech, Jesus prepares the disciples for life without him. Above all Jesus assures them that they need not be afraid because even though he will be physically absent from them they will still be aware of his presence. More than that, they will be sent the Holy Spirit who will equip and teach them and never leave them.  Even better still, as the Father abides in the Son, so the Father and the Son will abide in those who believe – the union between the Father and Son will be replicated in them. 

John’s gospel is not meant to be linear or to make “logical” sense. Rather it is intended to touch our souls, to bind us together in love and to assure us that the presence of God – Father, Son and Spirit – lives in and with us so that we will know the truth and we will never, ever be alone. 

May you know Jesus abiding in you and you in Jesus.

Questions for reflection:

How has the gospel of John touched you? Which are the words that have been absorbed into your deepest being? Which give you comfort and assurance? Are you confident that you are never alone?


[1] Of course, at this time the language of Trinity did not exist, but it is clear from this passage that the three-fold nature of God was very much a part of the experience of early believers.

[2][2] William Chatterton Dix, 1837-98, in Together in Song, 517.

Shepherds and gates

April 25, 2026

Sheep at dawn, Bethsaida 2015.

Dry, harsh, landscape, small flock, nomadic shepherd (not in shot)

Easter 4 – 2026

Good Shepherd Sunday John 10:1-10

Marian Free

In the name of God, Source of all being, Eternal Word and Holy Spirit. Amen.

It is fascinating how images can take hold of us even when they bear no relationship to reality. For. example, I often ponder about the biblical image of the shepherd which holds a place in our imaginations that seems to have little resemblance to actual shepherding – either here or in the Middle East. I imagine that most of us picture Jesus as shepherd in the way that he is depicted in religious art rather than from our own experience. The Good Shepherd is clean and neat, the grass in the pictures is a beautiful green and the sheep or lambs are white and fluffy – content to be held in Jesus’ arms or to rest motionless across his shoulders. In reality, shepherds in the Middle East, certainly in Jesus’ time, were considered to be thieves and drunkards –  not respectable members of society and certainly not selfless leaders. Israel is not covered in lush green pasture and sheep in the Middle East are often more like goats in appearance and are certainly not clean, cuddly, white lambs, willing to be held in one’s arms.

All this aside, images of leaders as a shepherds and of the people as sheep have ancient roots stemming from a pastoral, nomadic culture in which the wealth of anyone individual was dependent on their flock. Protecting one’s flock when always on the move required constant attention and finding adequate pasture was a priority for the health of the sheep. In the Near East in ancient times, a shepherd’s rod and staff were used as symbols of royal authority – a reminder of a leader’s responsibility to protect and to build up their people.

It is not surprising then that this imagery is found throughout the Old Testament. In  Numbers 27:16f Moses addresses God saying: “Let the LORD, the God of the spirits of all flesh, appoint someone over the congregation who shall go out before them and come in before them, who shall lead them out and bring them in, so that the congregation of the LORD may not be like sheep without a shepherd.” Isaiah 40:11 imagines and intimate relationship with God as shepherd: “He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.”  And of course there is the familiar imagery of Psalm 23. 

The longest reference to shepherds occurs in Ezekiel 34 in which, through the prophet, God assures Israel:” I myself will search for my sheep, and will seek them out. As shepherds seek out their flocks when they are among their scattered sheep, so I will seek out my sheep. I will feed them with good pasture, and the mountain heights of Israel shall be their pasture; there they shall lie down in good grazing land, and they shall feed on rich pasture on the mountains of Israel. I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep.

 The leaders of Israel at this time are not good leaders. “Thus says the Lord GOD: Ah, you shepherds of Israel who have been feeding yourselves! Should not shepherds feed the sheep?  You eat the fat, you clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fatlings; but you do not feed the sheep. You have not strengthened the weak, you have not healed the sick, you have not bound up the injured, you have not brought back the strayed, you have not sought the lost, but with force and harshness you have ruled them”.  

Ezekiel’s image of the “good shepherd” and his tirade against the “shepherds” of Israel is not too dissimilar to the imagery of John 10.

John 10, like all biblical texts has to be read in its literary context – Jesus’ giving sight to the man born blind. In typical Johannine fashion Jesus’ action is followed by a lengthy discourse or explanation. 

In today’s gospel, Jesus doesn’t directly name the Pharisees as the thieves and bandits who have come before him, but it is clear from the context that he has them in mind as those who do not hear his voice. After all, they do not believe that Jesus gave the man his sight. In fact, they have disparaged the once-blind man and driven him out of the Temple. They refuse to hear the voice of Jesus or see what he is doing.

As with much of John’s gospel, the imagery of chapter 10 is layered and complex, which means we will not find exact parallels with chapter nine. One this is clear – Jesus’ discourse on shepherding is a critique of the Pharisees leadership, their failure to hear his voice, and their assumed role as gatekeepers.  

As shepherds or gatekeepers of the sheep, the Pharisees have made it their business to determine how the people observe law and what they believe and to decide who does and does not belong. Such is their power and influence that even the parents of the man born blind do not have the courage to say that Jesus gave their son his sight for fear that they would be cast out. The Pharisees, believing they know what is best, and resisting any hint of change have taken away the freedom of the people to think for themselves, to act as they think best and their ability to grow and flourish. 

In describing himself as both the gate and the shepherd, Jesus highlights the difference between himself and the Pharisees. While the Pharisees want the people to live within strict boundaries determined by themselves, Jesus wants the sheep to be able to roam freely and to follow him of their own accord. He does not want limit and constrain his followers. His stated goal is for all “to have life and to have it abundantly”.

Throughout the history of the Christian faith (and the world in general) leaders have emerged who believe that they have all the answers – the leaders of the Inquisition, cult leaders and others – who believe that they have the right to impose their will and their way of seeing the world and faith on others. Jesus opens the gate wide, confident that those who have come to know and believe him may come and go but will always make their way home without coercion.

We know that we are following the Good Shepherd because we have been set free to live life to the full.

Binding and loosing, forgiving and not forgiving

April 11, 2026

Easter 2 – 2026

John 20:19-31

 Marian Free

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

The power of the powerless

April 3, 2026

Good Friday – 2026

Marian Free

In the name of God who gave his back to the whip and his hands to the cross. 

Amen.

At a prayer service in the Pentagon on March 25, United State Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth prayed for American servicemen attacking Iran: “Let every round find its mark against the enemies of righteousness and our great nation, give them wisdom in every decision, endurance for the trial ahead, unbreakable unity, and overwhelming violence of action against those who deserve no mercy.” He also called on God to: “break the teeth of the ungodly” and concluded: “We ask these things with bold confidence in the mighty and powerful name of Jesus Christ, King over all kings.”

“Overwhelming violence, break the teeth of the ungodly.” It is difficult to reconcile these words and this image of Christ with the one whom we acknowledge today – a crucified Savior who lived and died as one who resisted the temptation to defeat evil with evil, to fight fire with fire, or to defeat hate with hate. The same Jesus who said: “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’  But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also’” (Matthew 5:38,39).

This does not mean that Jesus was weak, submissive and ineffective, that he allowed himself to be treated as a doormat or that when necessary he didn’t call out evil. When the moment called for it, Jesus spoke out against those things that he perceived were wrong with his world and his church. He called out the hypocrisy among the leaders of the church, he refused to be bound by laws and conventions that excluded and condemned those who did not meet the exacting standards of his faith, and he ignored laws and conventions that would have prevented him from mixing with sinners, tax-collectors, prostitutes and yes even women. He told stories about the first being last and the last being first.

Interestingly, what Jesus did not do was challenge the Empire, he did not raise and train an army, he did not claim the power and authority to rule, he did not impose his will on anyone and he never, ever used his being god to get him out of a tight spot or to strike his enemies down (not even to escape death).

There is so much grief and pain in the world today. The balance of power is shifting and there is more uncertainty than many of us have known in our lifetime. It is tempting to think that the problems that face us can be solved by force, by imposing our will on those who obstruct us, by attacking those who threaten us, or by reinforcing our own security at the expense of others.

Jesus showed a different way – resisting silently and patiently, confident that God would have the final word. In so doing Jesus revealed a different sort of power, a inner strength that cannot be cowed, intimidated or destroyed by threats or cruelty; a power that enables him to stay true to himself and to his values even in the presence of death.

In a world filled with violence and fear, and with the lust for power and resources, may we follow a crucified Saviour, holding fast to Jesus’ teaching and example, resisting  silently, bravely, patiently, confident that these days will end and that we will emerge out on other side showing, as Jesus did, that we cannot be held prisoner to violence, oppression, injustice and greed and that the kingdom will be built on love, freedom, justice and the equal sharing of resources.

Jesus held firm to what he believed to be right and paid the ultimate price, may his example show us how to live, even when the world is shifting beneath our feet and when we want to fight to hold on to what we. have known and loved.

God who kneels at our feet.

April 2, 2026

Maundy Thursday –  2026

Marian Free

In the name of God, who kneels at our feet. Amen.

In 1994 the movie, The Madness of King George III was released. I’m not sure how much of it is true, but I was particularly struck by the fact that, in the film, the King’s loyal servants – men who indulged him when his fits of madness struck – were dismissed from the court when the King became well. When the King was afflicted, these men had been the King’s constant companions, often woken in the middle of the night to romp in the gardens playing childish games with the king. They saw him at his weakest and yet continued to serve him. It seemed to me that the King might have rewarded their non-judgmental faithfulness and discretion. Instead, he effectively punished them.  Having had his mind and his dignity restored, the King (or the King’s court) obviously felt that any reminder of his aberrant behaviour would reflect badly on him. The King could not afford to have daily reminders of his vulnerability and his incapacity, so his servants expelled from the court.

True or not, that is an extreme example of the delicate nature of human relationships, of the fine balance that is often held between those with wealth and authority and those without, those with influence and those without. The respective positions of each have to be appreciated not only to enable the smooth running of society, of a business or even of a family, but also to ensure that neither party be too familiar or, conversely, too disrespectful. Today’s society, especially that in Australia, is more egalitarian, but it is still possible to overstep the mark in certain situations or to cause offense. A CEO may be so relaxed with his or her staff that it becomes awkward if he/she needs to pull them into line if needed. Conversely, a staff member might become so familiar with the CEO that they run the risk of being disrespectful.  

In the first century, as in some places today, roles were clearly defined and everyone knew their place and how to interact with diverse members of society. The culture of honour and shame ensured that every citizen knew just how far they could and could not go with another member of society – whether they ranked higher or lower than themselves.

This is what makes the story of the footwashing so confronting. As he has many times before, Jesus defied convention, and in so doing he risked causing discomfort and/or offense to everyone present. Everyone at the table knew that it was the role of a slave to perform the servile task of washing the feet of guests.  No one thought twice about a slave demeaning himself to kneel at the feet of visitor and to wash the dirt from their feet and to dry them. However grateful and polite the recipient was, they would have understood that this was the role of the slave, and they would not have offered to swap roles, nor would they have insulted the slave by being effusively grateful. The last thing on their mind would have been to offer to wash the feet of the slave in return.

Jesus, who refused to be bound by social norms effectively does just that. To be sure his disciples are not his slaves but the disciples, by choosing to follow him, have accepted him as their leader, their master, as someone whose place on the social ladder was different from their own.  So it is perhaps not surprising that Peter’s reaction is to refuse.  Perhaps what is more surprising is that the other disciples do not refuse! 

Over and over again, we have seen how Jesus confronts the norms of his society, how he overturns the expected roles and absolutely refuses to be bound be convention – and how that causes confusion and offense. We saw this when he insisted that John baptise him – “the one who is less powerful baptising the one who is more powerful” – a reversal of roles that Jesus does not properly explain. We saw this again when Jesus failed to castigate the woman who touched him in the crowd. We saw it yet again when he allowed a woman off the street (or Mary of Bethany) to anoint him with extravagant oil. And we see it one last time, when Jesus kneels and washes the feet of the disciples.

In a stratified and divided world, a world governed by conventions that confined and limited people of differing classes, occupations and genders. In a world in which power was protected by law and by force, Jesus demonstrated an entirely different way of being. Through his teaching and his actions, Jesus showed that vulnerability is not weakness, that one can give away one’s authority and yet not lose it, one can allow for expressions of intimacy and yet still hold the respect of one’s companions. 

We may want an authoritarian, judgement, distant God, but what we have is a humble, vulnerable, intimate God who will not judge even those who betray him. That God kneels at our feet, are we willing to let him wash them?

Life from death creating something from nothing

March 21, 2026

Lent 5 – 2026

John 11:1-45

Marian Free

In the name of God who from nothing brought all things into being. Amen.

If asked, many of us would say that the fourth gospel is our favourite. The mystical nature of the gospel seems to draw us in and transform us. Yet even though we are aware that this is the most spiritual of the gospels we are not immune from the temptation to take the gospel literally and in so doing to miss the symbolism that makes John’s gospel so mysterious. 

The author of the fourth gospel does not simply report events but makes meaning out of them. For example, when Nicodemus visits Jesus, the author uses imagery of night/dark verses day/light to highlight not only to Nicodemus perceived need for secrecy, but also to allude both to Nicodemus’ failure to understand what Jesus is saying and his refusal (at this point in time) to believe in Jesus. When John tells us that Jesus opens the eyes of the man born blind, the language of seeing and not seeing exposes the “blindness” of the Pharisees. When Jesus feeds the 5,000, John’s focus is not so much on the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves, but on what it means for Jesus to be the bread from heaven. 

This is a gospel that needs to be mined for its deeper meaning – a meaning that is obscured – at least to Jesus’ opponents and dialogue partners. The Jesus of the fourth gospel speaks in riddles.  In the case of would-be followers, the riddles are intended to make his dialogue partners think and to change their way of thinking. So in this gospel Jesus tells Nicodemus that he must be born from above. (Nicodemus doesn’t understand but does engage in conversation.) Jesus tells the woman at the well that he can give her living water.  She is confused but engages Jesus in debate and comes to faith. The blind man receives the ability to see, but also the inner sight which enables him to recognise who Jesus is when no one else has the courage to admit to the possibility that Jesus has been sent by God.

Some see and believe, some see and come to a partial understanding, but the Pharisees are both blind and deaf to Jesus’ presence. They refuse to “see” the miracle of sight. They refuse to grasp what Jesus’ actions and words say about who he is. The Pharisees close themselves off both from miracle and teaching. Instead of trying to understand, they confront Jesus and challenge both his actions and his teaching. Claiming superior knowledge and wisdom they seem to be convinced that there is only one way to see the world and only one way to relate to God – their way. The symbolism and deeper meaning behind Jesus’ actions is completely lost on them.  

John’s gospel records only seven miracles, each more dramatic than the last. Water is turned into wine, the son of a royal official is healed, a lame man walks, bread is multiplied, Jesus walks on water, and a blind man sees. Today we encounter the last, the climactic miracle – the raising of Lazarus.

Like so many of the stories John records, this too is filled with riddles. Lazarus’ sisters send a message to let Jesus know that their brother (Jesus’ friend) is unwell. There is only one reason to tell Jesus and that is that the sisters fear that Lazarus will not recover. However, instead of making his way to Bethany at once, Jesus delays for two days saying: “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” The problem is, Lazarus does die. 

We are not told how Jesus finds out about the death of Lazarus (maybe he simply intuits it). Regardless, it appears that when Jesus finally makes up his mind to go to Bethany (which is only two miles away from Jerusalem where Jesus’ life is in danger), Lazarus is already dead. Jesus speaks in riddles telling the disciples that Lazarus is asleep before finally telling them plainly, “Lazarus is dead. For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.”

This account is puzzling on so many levels. It is possible to read in such a way as to conclude that Jesus deliberately delays his journey so that Lazarus will die, that Jesus plans the death of Lazarus so that he can reveal his most powerful party trick, one that will ensure his disciples will believe. “This illness is for God’s glory.” “I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.”

Just as last week we saw that we would be mistaken to attribute to God  a kind of callous disregard that makes unborn children blind just so that Jesus can give them (or one of them) sight, so it is a mistake to conclude that Jesus allows Lazarus to die just so that Jesus can demonstrate that he has the power to bring someone back from the dead. What sort of capricious God would deliberately deprive someone of life in order to show people just what God can do? What sort of cruel and arrogant God would cause Mary and Martha so much grief just to show how powerful God is? Certainly not the God who would take on human form and share human existence. Not the God who, in Jesus would allow himself to be nailed to a cross.

The raising of Lazarus is not a simple miracle story revealing what God can and cannot do (after all God doesn’t raise all people from the dead or give sight to every person born blind). We have to be careful not to take Jesus’ language too literally for to do so causes a great deal of damage to the image of God and leads us to miss the deeper meaning of what is going on here. 

As with so many of the Johannine accounts of Jesus’ life it is the symbolism that is important. The raising of Lazarus is a reminder to those who might need it that God can bring life from death (whatever that looks like). God can transform life-denying circumstances into life-giving circumstances. God can wring things that are from things that are not. When we are locked in a tomb of grief or despair or when it seems that health or security or joy are beyond our reach, the raising of Lazarus, the giving of life to dead bones (Ezekiel 37) are a reason for hope an encouragement to hold on when holding on seems impossible.

Faith doesn’t protect us from suffering, but God does not capriciously inflict suffering on anyone. Faith is an anchor in the storm, a hope for the future and a confidence that whether we live or die, we are God’s.

Opening our eyes to possibility

March 17, 2026

Lent 5 – 2026

John 9:1-41

Marian Free

In the name of God Source of all Being, Living Word, Giver of Life. Amen.

“Who sinned? This man or his parents?” In the face of inexplicable or unbearable loss it is easy to come up with trite, seemingly pious explanations. (“They are in a better place.” “God must have wanted another angel.”) In our effort to make sense of the senseless, we attribute to God characteristics that have little to do with God and more to do with our own need to understand. In so doing, we not only trivialise the pain and the grief of another, we also diminish and trivialise God. 

When someone dies after a long and painful struggle, it might be appropriate to express the view that they are now at peace or with God, but when a young person is tragically killed in an accident or slowly dies from cancer, it is tempting, but irrational to attribute to God a reason for the death, or to try to minimize the pain. To assume that God allows a person to die because heaven does not yet have enough angels is a gross presumption that we know what God needs – or even to assume God has needs. 

Human life is precarious and what happens to one or another person is often completely random – natural disaster, reckless driving, genetics – are all things which (with the possible exception of the last) cannot be predicted or protected against. God certainly doesn’t visit suffering on the unsuspecting for some bizarre self-seeking motive.

The question of human suffering, especially in relation to accidents of birth, was a matter of concern to people who did not have our medical knowledge. Why someone might give birth to a child with epilepsy, or a child without sight, and another might not was a complete mystery to our forebears. In the absence of understanding people looked for someone to blame. God was not exempt from this desire to attribute a cause for suffering. Indeed, a refrain that runs through the Old Testament is that “the iniquity of the fathers will be visited on the children.” In their their original context these words referred specifically to the consequences that idolatry and the disobedience of the whole nation would have on future generations. In fact, sin generally referred to the nation and their propensity to abandon God. It did not refer to individual wrongdoing.

In today’s account of the man born blind, Jesus points out that there is a flaw in the kind of thinking that blames a parent, or grandparent for the suffering of a descendant (no matter how distant). God does not and will not inflict suffering on the innocent as a consequence of the actions of the guilty. 

Unfortunately, Jesus does not go on to undo the false thinking that has grown up around unexplained suffering and inexplicable impairment. Having dismissed the misconception, Jesus goes on to attribute an alternative meaning to the man’s blindness. He suggests that in this instance the man’s condition of blindness provides an opportunity, not only for Jesus to give the man the gift of sight, but also for him to reflect on what it means to be blind and what it is to really see[1]. To really see Jesus claims, would be to know that he was sent by God and that all that he says and does comes from God.

Jesus’ healing of the blind man is disruptive on many levels. As a consequence of receiving his sight, the life of the blind man and his family is irrevocably changed. The man has to decide what to do with his sight. He only knows what it is to beg and to be dependent on others. What can he do now? He has no skills, but presumably he cannot continue to beg. His family have to adjust to living with someone who no longer needs the sort of support the man has needed his whole life. Hopefully a family’s love will find a way to rejoice and move forward, even so the future is unknown and will have to be navigated in a new way. 

If the family are confused, the Pharisees are more so. Not only are they confused, but they are also threatened. who have more to lose. Who is this man who heals on the Sabbath, who doesn’t follow the rules, and who gains the attention and loyalty of the crowds? They do all they can do discredit Jesus, and to dissuade the crowds from taking him seriously. 

As we have seen throughout the gospel, the Pharisees simply cannot allow their imaginations to be stretched. They have found a way to limit and contain their relationship with God. They have made it manageable. If Jesus is who he says he is, then what becomes of the structures and rules that they have built up? What happens to all their preconceptions about God and about the Messiah? Unlike the man born blind, they simply cannot allow a crack to form in their carefully constructed system of belief. Jesus does not fit their preconceived image, so he cannot possibly be who he claims to be. 

In the face of such dissonance, the refuse to allow their eyes (minds) to be opened, and they hold even more firmly to their cherished beliefs.

The account of the man born blind is more about understanding who Jesus is, than it is about the miracle of sight, more about seeing with our hearts than with our eyes. It challenges us to ask what cherished beliefs and practices have we allowed to come between ourselves and God? What beliefs and practices have we set in stone as if we already know all there is to know about God? What is it about God that makes us so uncomfortable that we have blinded ourselves to the possibility that God is more than we can ever know and will reveal more than we are ready for?

If God were to open our eyes, would we be grateful or terrified?


[1] It is a mistake to assume that God made the man blind just so that Jesus would have an entry point for his discussion, for that would not move the debate any further forward.