Archive for the ‘John’s Gospel’ Category

No easy love

April 27, 2013

Easter 5 2013

John 13:31-35

Marian Free 

In the name of God who loves freely and abundantly and ask that we do the same. Amen.

I’m sure that many of you will remember the first record, cassette tape, CD or iTunes that you ever owned. I was nine years old, not tall enough to see over the counter when my mother bought my first record. It was the year that the Beatles had come to Brisbane and I was determined to be part of the action. All I wanted that Christmas was a record by The Beatles. My mother duly took me to a record store in the city where she naively asked for a Beatles record. Of course the shop assistant asked: “which one?” The nine year old Marian could only respond: “one with ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’” – that being all that came to mind. So it was that for Christmas that year I was given the EP with She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah, on one side and something like All you need is love on the reverse. The sixties were all about love and peace.

The beatniks and hippies preached love not war and even the Christians got on the bandwagon with car stickers and other paraphernalia covered in flowers and proclaiming: “God is love”. Love and peace were the counter-cultural response to the establishment and especially to the war in Vietnam. The spirit of the age was one of flower power, communal living, non-violent resistance and John Lennon’s famous love-in.

Love, or the promise of love is very seductive. Studies have shown that infants and children need love to grow up feeling strong and secure. Those who do not receive the affection that they crave often go to all kinds of extremes, even criminal behaviour, to get that attention. Apparently, negative attention is better than no attention at all. Worse still, I’m sure we can all think of awful crimes have been committed by people whose need for affection is so great that they allow themselves to be led by their spouses or their friends to do horrendous things that they know to be wrong.

Because love is so essential to our well-being, it is also a powerful force for change. Sister Helen Prejean recounts her journey with Matthew Poncelet, a man sentenced to death for his part in the rape and murder of a young couple. Despite the heinous nature of Matthew’s crime, the fact that he is a particularly unattractive person and the fact that the wider society and in particular the victim’s families cannot understand her position, Helen persists not only in her relationship with Matthew but also in her public opposition to the death penalty. The movie Dead Man Walking, is a reasonably accurate retelling of Helen’s story. She recounts that it is thirty minutes before midnight, the time of the scheduled execution when she finally witnesses a break through in her relationship with Matthew. All of his defenses come tumbling down when he comes to understand that despite all that he has done and the terrible nature of his crime, God loves him.

Helen’s love and persistence have broken through Matthew’s outer shell of defiance and defensiveness. In the safety of that love, Matthew can finally admit that he did rape the young woman and that he did kill her boyfriend. At that moment he takes full responsibility for his actions and stops blaming of his co-accused for the offense. His acknowledgement of his guilt and his acceptance of God’s love do not save his physical life, but his life is saved none-the-less, for in that moment he becomes fully the person God intended him to be and he opens himself to the fullness of God’s love.

The love that Helen showed Matthew is quite different from that so easily proclaimed pop songs. It is a love that is demanding, difficult and often time-consuming. It draws on all our resources and can earn the disapproval of society and even of our friends. Helen’s love for Matthew was fueled by her love for God, her belief that all people – even those most despised by society – are created in the image of God, and her conviction that when we are commanded to love, we are commanded to love everyone, not just those whom we choose to love or those who are easy to love.

Jesus’ command is to love one another as he has loved us. “I give you and new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” In order to fully understand this commandment we have to fully grasp the nature of Jesus’ love, which is also God’s love for us. Jesus’ love began with his ability to be vulnerable. From the cradle to the grave, Jesus demonstrated that he did not need to be in control. He trusted life itself to those whom he loved. At great cost to himself, he allowed others responsibility to make their own mistakes – even when the mistake was to betray him. Jesus’ love demonstrated complete acceptance of other people. Whether they were his disciples, the tax collectors or a variety of other sinners, Jesus accepted them as they were. No one was outside his love.

At the heart of Jesus’ love was forgiveness – whether it was the woman caught in adultery, Peter who denied him, the thief crucified with him or those who nailed him to the cross, Jesus was able to put their misdeeds behind him and restore their relationship with himself. Jesus’ love was also risk taking. In choosing to love everyone, Jesus dared the disapproval of the establishment. By including everyone in his love, Jesus offended those who wanted to exclude people who didn’t fit their criteria of goodness or acceptability. By associating with outsiders, Jesus caused offense to those who wanted to determine who belonged and who did not. By extending his love to all, Jesus risked rejection, hurt and betrayal and still he loved without reserve.

Jesus’ command to love is much harder than it appears –  keeping the Ten Commandments is easier. The command to love as Jesus loved insists that we keep our own egos in check, that we suspend our tendency to evaluate and judge the behaviour of others, and that we understand that our standards and expectations are not necessarily God’s standards and expectations. It means that we must love with no thought of that love being returned, that we should not withdraw our love no matter what the loved one does or does not do and that we should overlook continually another’s flaws and betrayals. This sort of love is not trite or superficial emotion; it involves the will as well as the heart.

The context of John 13 is very specific. Jesus is speaking to the disciples, to community of faith, to us. In today’s churches we have very few opportunities to demonstrate our love for one another. We do not rub up against each other in the way that we might if we had to spend more time together. This makes it hard to demonstrate our discipleship of Christ by our mutual love, understanding and support for one another. That said, the wider church is far from being a model of Jesus’ love. It is a broken and fragmented body, torn apart by differences of opinion, a desire to be in control and an unwillingness to tolerate difference. If the world is to know Jesus by our love, we need to work harder to trust each other, to encourage each other and build each other up. We need to learn to value diversity, to welcome debate and struggle together to understand the love that Jesus showed, so that we can put that love into practice. It is not necessary that we be the same, or even that we agree, just that we love.

As Leunig says: “Love one another. It is as easy and as difficult as that.”

No greater love

April 24, 2013

ANZAC DAY 2013

John 15:9-17

Marian Free

No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. John 15:13

While most of us know the story of ANZAC Day, I’m not sure how many of us know the history of its commemoration and the part played by an Anglican and a Queenslander. A day in the midst of war is perhaps an unusual date for remembrance, especially a day on which so many lives were lost and which in military terms was anything but a success.

Interestingly, the history of the commemoration begins in Queensland and it begins as long ago as January 1916 when the then Premier met with the Recruiting Committee –whose primary goal was to encourage young men to enlist. However, the loss of so many men on April 25 – Queenslanders were the first ashore – suggested the importance of setting aside the day for a solemn commemoration. Canon Garland an Anglican priest who spoke strongly in support of this idea, was elected to lead the committee to plan the commemoration.

From the beginning the service was a multi-faith event which was in many ways a requiem for the fallen and Garland enthusiastically supported the day as Australia’s “All Soul’s Day”. Once the day was established in Brisbane, Garland urged all the mayors in other Australian (and New Zealand) cities to follow suit. He also lobbied hard that ANZAC Day become a public holiday in the same way as Good Friday and in 1930 this was enacted throughout the nation.

Garland, an Orangeman, clearly drew on the custom of an annual march, but despite his sectarian background, he was well aware of the divergent Christian, not to mention religious traditions in Australia. Originally, all churches were encouraged to hold their own commemorations before their members joined a public service at the War Memorial. At the public service hymns that were non-Trinitarian were sung and sensitivity towards the multitude of faiths and no faith led Garland to introduce the minute’s silence in which each person could pray, or reflect in their own way.

From the beginning the committee were clear that ANZAC Day was not intended to glorify war. All the chaplains agreed it was to be a day of remembrance and a day to recognise the sin that gave rise to national conflict and the nation’s need to atone for that sin. This is expressed in a sermon given by Rudolf Otto in St John’s Cathedral in 1924 referring to the Cross of Sacrifice in Toowong cemetery:

“The memorial in its noble dignity proclaims, as befits a Christian people, the great sacrifice of Calvary; and unites therefore the sacrifice of those who also laid down their lives for their friends. Its inscription is no less dignified than the memorial itself: Their Name Liveth for Evermore.” On Anzac Day we gather collectively, and plead for them the Sacrifice of Calvary, to which they united themselves by offering their souls and bodies as a reasonable, holy and lively sacrifice, after the example of Him who by word and from the pulpit of the Cross taught that “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” Thus in the House of God, pleading at the Altar of God, we find the most comfort, not the sorrow of those without hope for them that sleep in Him, nor the swamping of our grief in noisy demonstrations; but by emphasizing in mind and thought the reality of that life beyond the veil where they live for evermore, and where some day we, too, shall meet them. Thus again there is no room for anything but a solemn observance of Anzac Day – the All Souls’ Day of Australia – and so we come before God not in the bright vestments of festival and the joyous music of triumph; but with the tokens of Christian penitence and sorrow for the sin of the world which caused the sacrifice of those bright young lives, our dearest and our best.”[1]


[1] I am indebted to and heavily dependent on an article by Dr John Moses. “Anzac Day as Australia’s All Souls’ Day: Canon David John Garland’s Vision for Commemoration of the Fallen”

[A paper given at “Christian Mission in the Public Square”, a conference of the Australian Association for Mission Studies (AAMS) and the Public and Contextual Theology Research Centre of Charles Sturt University, held at the Australian Centre for Christianity and Culture (ACC&C) in Canberra from 2 to 5 October 2008.]

Click to access Moses.pdf

God of many names

April 20, 2013

Easter 4 – 2013, Good Shepherd Sunday

John 10:22-30

Marian Free

In the name of God, whose nature cannot be described by human language and whose name is above every other name. Amen.

I wonder how many different expressions do you use to address God or how many names you know for God? Most of us use the word “Father” – partly out of habit because that is what we were taught as children and because it is the form of address used in the Lord’s prayer which we have used for as long as we can remember. While the expression “Father” is not exclusive to the gospel of John, it is this gospel that firmly established “Father” as a name for, and descriptor of, God. In this gospel, Jesus consistently refers to himself as God’s son and to God as Father.

Father is a useful and relational term, however, the biblical language for God is much more complex. In the OT, God is addressed and described in many and varied ways. In Genesis alone, God is acknowledged as creator and Lord. God is called Elohim, El Shaddai and simply El. When God speaks to Moses out of the burning bush and Moses asks whom shall he say sent him, God answers: tell them YHWH (I am who I am) sent you.

In the Psalms we find a rich source of expressions for God. The Psalmist says: God is my fortress and my tower; God is my strong defence, my help and my deliverer. God is named as a judge, a shield and a king and is described as awesome, righteous, gracious and merciful. The Psalmist can call God a rock, a sun and state that God is more majestic than the everlasting mountains.

The prophets likewise draw on a wide range of imagery to name and to describe God. Often they speak in the first person, as if God is actually speaking: “I will bear you up on eagle’s wings”, “I am he who blots out your transgressions”, “as a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you and so on.” God is envisaged as a potter in Jeremiah and Hosea imagines God as a bridegroom – an image that is taken up again in the Book of Revelation.

Sometimes the language used for God reveals the people’s experience of God, sometimes reflects the situation in which the people find themselves and sometimes it is drawn from the environment around them. So for example because God is seen as the protector of Israel, language like tower, refuge and defence are seen as appropriate terms to apply to God. A rock or a mountain, suggest that God is solid and steadfast. An experience of God’s comforting love might lead one to think of God as mother.

One expression for God that is found throughout the Bible is that of shepherd. From Genesis, through the Psalms, the prophets, the gospels and right up to the Book of Revelation, God is described as a shepherd. As a nation of herders, the Israelites would have been all too familiar with the imagery of shepherding. Their well-being and their livelihood would have depended on their flocks being well cared for. They would have known first hand the difference between and good and a bad shepherd. They would have observed the relationships between shepherd and flock and seen the results of good and bad shepherding. Even those people not directly involved in the care of the animals would have noticed that some of the shepherds were more protective of their flock and they would have seen how well those animals responded to being cared for. They would also have seen that carelessness and neglect led to the destruction of the flock at the hands of wild animals and that cruelty led to flocks that were timid and easily startled.

Given their intimate knowledge of animal husbandry, it is not surprising that the image of shepherd was used of God. God embodied everything that was good in a shepherd. God provided for the people, kept them safe from their enemies, knew and responded to their needs and led them where they needed to go. God was their shepherd and they identified themselves as God’s flock (Ps 79:13, 100, 95:7).

It is little wonder then, that Jesus identifies himself as the Good Shepherd. The Jesus of John’s gospel, consistently argues that he and the Father are one. If God is the shepherd of the sheep, Jesus is the shepherd of the sheep. If God has promised to send a “shepherd after his own heart”, Jesus is the shepherd whom God has sent. If God is able to protect the flock from harm, Jesus can guarantee that no one will snatch the sheep out of his hand – not in the present nor for all eternity. Unlike the leaders of Israel, who were as varied in their commitment to the flocks as shepherd with their sheep, Jesus’ commitment is total. He is the Good Shepherd who will lay down his life for the sheep. Those who hear and respond to his voice are those who recognise that they belong to his flock. Those who do not respond demonstrate by their behaviour that they do not belong – they self-select to stand outside and to refuse the gift of life that Jesus the shepherd offers.

Shepherd, king, rock, shield, father, mother – ultimately, all our expressions for God are merely human expressions of what we believe God to be, what we experience God to be or what we hope God to be. Even so, as the variety of biblical names indicates, our language is completely inadequate to capture or to begin to describe everything that God is. God is so much more than mere words can express.

In Jesus we have a glimpse into the nature of God. We discover in him a God who gives himself completely to us and gives himself completely for us. All we have to do is to recognise Jesus as God and respond to his voice – and that, after all, is why we are here.

“What no eye has seen, nor ear heard,

nor the human heart conceived,

what God has prepared for those who love him” (1 Cor 2:9)

Reconciled to God and to one another

April 13, 2013

Easter 3. 2013

John 21:1-19

Marian Free

In the name of God, who in Jesus, redeems us and sets us free from all our sins. Amen.

One of the most extraordinary things associated with the end of apartheid in South Africa was the establishment of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Instead of seeking retribution and/or reparation for the events of the past, the new government committed itself to a process of listening to the stories, the pain and the hurt of the past and trying to bring about healing rather than creating further division. Perhaps the most courageous aspect of this process was the commitment to those who had carried out atrocities that they would not be prosecuted if they came forward and told the truth.

If you have the stomach for a harrowing experience, I suggest that you watch the movie, Red Dust. In it a former South African police officer, Dirk Hendriks, wants to confess to the torture and beating of Alex Mpondo – a member of Parliament. Alex is anxious about testifying. It means reliving the horror and dealing with the death of his friend Steve. When the trial starts, Hendriks accuses him of denouncing Steve, which causes his own community to abandon him. Alex is sure he did not betray his friend, but his memory is not sufficiently clear nor can he produce evidence to prove his version of events

Hendrik’s former boss, Piet Muller, wants to ensure that only a sanitised account is made known so that he is not implicated in the events. He has a vested interest in discrediting Alex.

So we watch as Alex finds the courage to testify and to re-live the experience of his own torture and the agony of having to watch his friend’s horrendous suffering and death. We are indignant when we discover that Alex’s version of events cannot be supported by other evidence and when his fellow ANC members turn against him. We are relieved when his account is proven to be true. We witness the grief and relief of Steve’s mother as her son’s remains are recovered and she acknowledges that he is indeed dead.

The story doesn’t end there. When Muller realises that his part in Alex’s torture and Steve’s death has been exposed, he makes the decision to protect himself by confessing. In order for this to work, Alex has to allow the process to proceed. Alex is furious. He can see that Muller is only protecting himself. He cannot bear the thought that this man will walk free despite the atrocities he has committed. Gradually, Alex works through his anger, his need for retribution and reparation and he comes to the decision that he must let go of the past no matter how unpalatable that decision may be. He comes to the understanding that withholding his cooperation will solve nothing so he allows the process to continue.

Of course, I don’t know how well the process has worked overall, but from a Christian perspective it seems to me that it is a more positive (if extraordinarily painful) way to deal with conflict resolution especially on a personal, neighbourhood or national level. If the perpetrators of violent acts can acknowledge what they have done and if the victims can find the strength to surrender their need to have their suffering validated by the punishment of the other it just might be possible to find a way to escape the cycle of retribution and violence that keeps some conflicts going.

Our sense of justice is finely honed, but storing up bitterness, anger and hatred does no one any good. Vengeance does not lead to reconciliation or to the restoration of relationships. That is not to say that the perpetrators of abuse should not be held accountable or that crimes and misdeeds should simply be overlooked. Unacceptable behaviour remains unacceptable and must be named as such and it must not be allowed to continue. On the other hand, no matter how insincere a person’s “confession” might be, any admission of wrong doing means that their behaviour is exposed and they can no longer pretend to be what they are not. The past is laid open for others to judge.

The scale is different, but accountability and restoration feature in today’s gospel.

Despite having said that he will follow Jesus to death, Peter has denied Jesus not once but three times. Confronted with Jesus’ arrest, Peter has revealed that he was not as courageous as he had thought he would be. Even though he followed Jesus’ progress through the court system, Peter did not want to be identified as one of Jesus’ followers. Having promised complete and total loyalty, he lacked the courage to stand up and be counted. He watched Jesus being unjustly condemned but did nothing to intervene

You would think, wouldn’t you, that such behaviour would be hard to forgive. You would understand if Jesus, having undergone the excruciating agony of crucifixion, might want to extract some sort of reparation from those who abandoned him. He would be justified in thinking that Peter should accept the consequences of his denial. In fact, it would not be surprising to us if Jesus had given Peter the cold shoulder and frozen him out of any further involvement in the movement.

Jesus however, acts in a way that is contrary to all our expectations. He does not confront Peter (or any of the other disciples for that matter) and accuse him (them) of cowardice, desertion and betrayal. He doesn’t demand recompense from Peter for his treachery, his abandoning him in his hour of need. He doesn’t make Peter prove his loyalty and demonstrate his commitment before they can be friends again. Instead he does what by human standards is almost unthinkable. Not only does he overlook what Peter has done, but he gives to Peter the preeminent role in the community. “Feed my lambs, shepherd my sheep.” Peter is commissioned to take over where Jesus left off. Peter, the deserter is to become Peter the leader

That does not mean that Peter is not held accountable for what he has done. His crime may not be named, but Jesus’ threefold request and Peter’s obvious discomfort are evidence that Peter is being asked to accept responsibility for his weakness and for the fact that he turned his back on his leader and his friend. Without having to make recompense, without being isolated, excluded and punished, Peter is restored to his place in the community, his place in Jesus’ affection and given new responsibility. History shows that Jesus’ confidence is not misplaced.

And this, brothers and sisters is the extraordinary thing about the God in whom we believe. We abandon and betray God, but God does not abandon us. We nail God to a cross and still God continues to trust in us. It is this, I hope – God’s love and trust in us, not the threat of punishment or the fear of the fires of hell – that makes us respond, that encourages us to behave in ways that deserve such confidence. Even at our worst, God sees the good in us. Let us do all that we can to live up to God’s faith in us.

Utter dependence on God

April 6, 2013

Easter 2. 2013

John 20:19-31

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to die in order that we might truly live. Amen.

When we start out in life we are completely dependent on others for every aspect of our lives and, if we are lucky, we learn to trust  that our needs will be met. As we grow, we need to be taught about the world, learn what we can and can’t do, how to live in relationship with those around us and how to keep ourselves safe from danger. We learn to trust in and depend on the judgement of those older and wiser than ourselves. At times in our lives, especially in our teens, we test what we’ve been taught and we explore the boundaries that have been set to see how real they are and to determine whether danger really lurks on the other side. As a result of this process we form our own ideas and come to our own decisions as to how to live our lives. Over time, some of the rules and boundaries that were indispensable will be left behind. We no longer need to hold a parent’s hand to cross the road, we can go swimming without an adult watching and so on. As we grow, new skills and boundaries are learned. We learn how to drive, so we learn the road rules. We are old enough to drink and others hope that we will use that privilege responsibly.

At different times of our lives we unlearn some things – how to be dependent in particular – and we learn new things – how to be married, how to parent, how to live with illness or pain and how to age. Some of the changes we face will be embraced and the challenges taken on board, others may be resisted or resented. There will be individuals who adopt a positive attitude to change no matter what. When confronted with difficulties, they will grow and become better for it. However, others will balk at any difference or difficulty in their lives. Their growth will be stunted and they may become bitter and angry, unable to move on.

Our religious journeys are similar to our life’s journey. If we are open to the presence of God, we will grow through dependence to the rule bound childhood of faith into a liberating life-giving adulthood. The difference between the two is that ultimately our faith journey takes us through the independence of adulthood into a second infancy – that of complete dependence on and trust in God.

Just as in life, so in faith, some people have the confidence and courage to grow, to out-grow unnecessary regulations and to leave behind painful and negative pasts. However, unfortunately for some, the lessons taught and the emotional threats used to enforce the rules make it difficult, if not impossible, for them to make their own minds up about right and wrong, healthy growth and unhealthy development. For such people, the consequences of questioning the teaching and boundaries of their childhood faith can be constant anxiety and self-doubt, fear of expulsion from the group and the terror of hellfire. There are others who do not grow in faith because they have come to like the certainty of their set beliefs and behaviours. They are comfortable in their beliefs and do not want them challenged or disturbed. For this group, any admission of doubt would be tantamount to a confession that they had lost their faith. They would feel rudderless and lost and so hold tight to what they have, unable to move forward.

Those unable or unwilling to grow become stuck in the rule-bound faith of their childhood and often justify their position by being critical and judgemental towards those who have taken a different road. They are governed by their own need for certainty and assurance and threatened by any suggestion that there is another way to be. Rules help them to feel safe. They cannot imagine a situation in which they might let go of the rules and allow God to direct their lives. Ultimately they are terrified of ceding control and opening themselves to the wisdom and love of God.

On the other hand, those who have the courage to step out in faith and to follow the path to the end are able to unlearn everything that they had learned. They have no fear of hell or judgement because they have learnt to trust in God’s unconditional love and forgiveness. They do not need to compare themselves with others because knowing themselves loved they can extend that love to those around them.

Paradoxically, our journey of faith is not a journey into certainty, but into uncertainty for in the final analysis God represents all that is unknown. Growing in faith is learning that there is only one rule and that it is not a rule but an attitude – loving and allowing ourselves to be loved. It is regaining the sense of wonder and even bewilderment about the nature of God and the nature of the universe. It is dying to our need for the rational and intelligible and rising with Christ to the impossible and unbelievable.

This is Thomas’ journey. He begins by wanting proof. What he has been told by his friends will not suffice, he wants to see and to touch. He cannot suspend his desire for the rational and the reasonable. What he knows, what he has seen, is that Jesus has died. Without clear proof to the contrary he will not be able to change this world view. When he does see Jesus, all that changes, his demand for certainty is exposed as and he is forced to concede that some things are beyond rational explanation. Thomas, having come face-to-face with the risen Christ, goes further than any other disciple by falling to his knees and identifying Jesus as both Lord and God. In that act, he lets go of certainty and rationality and gives himself over completely to God.

Certainty, compliance to a particular set of regulations, is a form of heresy. It claims that we know all there is to be known about God, it suggests that we have all the answers that we will ever need and ultimately implies that we have no need for God at all. Letting go can be a terrifying experience because we can never be sure what is on the other side. However, unless we have the courage to let go, to stop being in control, we will never know what it is to die with Christ and never experience the power of the resurrection in our lives.

Body beautiful

March 16, 2013

Lent 5

John 12:1-10

Marian Free

In the name of God who formed us and called us God’s own. Amen.

There is a beautiful Japanese movie called “Departures”. It tells the tale of a cellist whose orchestra disbands and of his subsequent struggle to find work. Daigo has no qualifications or talents apart from his music and he becomes increasingly desperate to earn an income. Eventually he returns to his hometown and answers a job advertisement for a company called “Departures”. He is shocked and dismayed to discover that the company is not a travel agency as he had expected, but the Japanese equivalent of a funeral company. In Japan, a Nokanashi or undertaker is the most despised of professions. Those who practice the art of preparing people for cremation are shunned by society and excluded from all social activities. Daigo has no choice, so he takes the job but tells no one – not even his wife.

His first days on the job are shocking. The company are called to a home in which the occupant has been dead for sometime and the sight and the smells are more than Daigo can bear. He is called out at all hours which makes his secret hard to keep. Over time however, he begins to appreciate the privilege and responsibility of preparing the bodies for cremation and caring for the families of the deceased. With the family in the room, the Nokanashi gently wash and dress the dead and lay them out in a bed with beautiful white linen before placing them in a coffin and taking them away. (Like many aspects of Japanese life – tea making, flower arranging – preparing a body after death is highly ritualised and full of grace. It is beautiful to watch.)

While Daigo is learning to love his work, his wife becomes increasingly suspicious of his activity. Finally he has to tell her about the job and to confront her anger and dismay for by association she shares the taint that the job brings with it. However, when Daigo’s estranged Father dies, Mika accompanies Daigo as he attends to his Father’s body. When she sees for herself the care and respect that is given to the dead, and the love and compassion that is shown to the family and understands that despite societal attitudes the job is not something that contaminates the encoffenier, she too appreciates how important the job is. Instead of despising her husband’s decision and feeling anxious for herself and their child, she embraces and supports his choice.

Departures is a lovely, gentle and respectful movie, which has the effect of de-mystifying death and giving us a different appreciation of the human body.

Different cultures have different attitudes to death. People of the Muslim faith believe that a person should be buried as soon after death as possible. The body is wrapped in cloth rather than placed in a coffin and it is laid in the ground such that it is facing Mecca. In Ireland and perhaps other parts of Great Britain a body may be kept in an open coffin in the family home for long enough for family and friends to come and pay their respects. Some ancient cultures had elaborate processes of mummification and the wealthy could build expensive tombs like the pyramids which could be filled with food and possessions to accompany them on their journey to the next life. I could go on, the Indians (or some of them) have the tradition of the funeral pyre and many Chinese burn money for the deceased to spend in the next life.

In Jesus’ time it appears that the dead were anointed with spices before being wrapped in cloth and entombed. The women among Jesus’ friends discovered that the tomb was empty because they had been going to anoint Jesus’ body which, when taken from the cross, had been hurriedly dealt with because of the approach of the Sabbath. According to John, Nicodemus provided about 100 lbs of spices for that task. In today’s gospel however, Jesus is not yet dead so the anointing tells us something different.

There are four different accounts of the woman who anoints Jesus. John’s account has a number of unique features – the timing is very specific, the characters in the story – Martha, Mary, Lazarus and Judas are all named and the woman (Mary) wipes Jesus’ feet with her hair. Jesus is with friends which makes Mary’s action less shocking and inappropriate. While the timing in John’s gospel is precise – six days before Passover – other aspects of time are confused in this period of Jesus’ life. For example, John alludes to this event before he reports the raising of Lazarus and in this passage we read: “Leave her alone, she kept it for the day of my burial.” As Jesus is not yet dead, that he should be anointed for burial is confusing. Alternately, if Mary was going to keep the ointment for Jesus’ death, why is she using it now?

These questions cannot be resolved but the stories tell us about a respect and care for the body which Western Christianity (based, in part, on a misinterpretation of Paul’s use of the word “flesh”) seems to have lost. Many of us have, deep in our psyche, a belief that our physical bodies are something of a hindrance, that they have uncontrollable urges which are shameful and have to be subdued and tamed. Not quite so extreme is our concern with normal bodily functions. We deodorise our sweat, listerine our breath, shave off hair that grows where we do not want it. Our hatred of (or ambivalence towards) the body is demonstrated today by extreme dieting or an obsession with body building or sculpting. Bodies are so dangerous or so unpleasant that many people in our culture have a difficulty with touch.

The reverence, extravagance and intimacy with which Mary handles Jesus’ body and Jesus’ willing acceptance of her ministrations tell a different story. Neither of them are embarrassed or ashamed of their bodies, they have no fear of what another might see or feel, no self-consciousness about touch. Their physical presence is a very real part of who they are. Jesus’ feet may have been rough and calloused from all the walking, Mary’s hair may not have been recently washed. Neither will have spent time with the beauty therapist to ensure that they looked and smelt their best for this moment. They were two friends who accepted each other and each other’s bodies just as they were.

Whatever this account tells us about the foreboding of Jesus’ death, the avarice in Judas’ nature or the careless abandon of Mary’s love, it is also a telling insight into the value of our physical selves. God gave us physical bodies to house our emotion, our intellect and even our souls and God took on that human body for himself when he entered our existence. Our bodies may not be all that we wish and they may express needs that we are not always happy to admit or indulge but in the end they are God’s creation and the body God chose to inhabit. They are not to be despised and subdued but celebrated and enjoyed. They are not to be bullied and re-shaped, but treasured and cared for. They are not a burden or embarrassment, but a gift from God our creator who thought that they were a suitable vessel for God’s very self. Our bodies are a precious gift. There is no need to deny them affection and touch, reverence and respect. If the human body was good enough for God, surely it is good enough for us.

Jesus at a wedding

January 19, 2013

Epiphany 2, 2013

Wedding at Cana – John 2:1-11

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who showers us with abundant blessings and reveals himself to us through his Son Jesus. Amen.

 

I don’t need to tell you that I know a great deal about weddings. Not only do I conduct numerous weddings but I had a hand in planning my wedding and have been involved in the planning of my children’s weddings. Even quite simple ceremonies take quite a deal of planning. A bare minimum requires the signing of the Notice of Intent at least one month before the ceremony, arranging a celebrant a venue and two witnesses. Anything more elaborate also involves deciding on the number of guests, sending invitations, choosing music, booking a reception centre, selecting a menu, organizing a cake, making or purchasing a dress, hiring or buying a suit, buying shoes and flowers, planning the seating arrangements, thinking of and inviting someone to be an MC and hopefully planning a honeymoon. For those who want to go to more trouble cars need to be hired, a photographer booked, wedding favours made or purchased, bridesmaid’s dresses made or bought and the list goes on (and on).  No wonder people find it stressful, I’m exhausted just listing what needs to be done!

Weddings in the first century were quite different, but I presume that they also required a great deal of planning. From what we can re-create from the literature available, it appears that in the first century all of the village would have been invited and the festivities would have lasted for seven days. The celebrations would have started, not at 3pm at an appointed time, but whenever the friends of the bridegroom arrived with the bride. One can only imagine the sort of organisation that would go into such an event. Feeding a large crowd over a number of days would involve a considerable amount of preparation – beasts would have to be chosen, slaughtered, prepared, and cooked, bread and sweets would have to be made and enough wine procured. Other arrangements such as dowries would have had to have been settled long beforehand.

It is interesting that the first event in Jesus’ life that is recorded by the author of John’s gospel is that of a wedding not a healing. What is more, the story raises a number of questions – not least of which is why the hosts ran out of wine. Were the groom’s parents really so unprepared as to not have enough to drink, or was it, as some suggest, that Jesus and the disciples did not observe the tradition of bringing a contribution to the festivities? Other questions arise: Whose wedding was it? Why was Mary concerned about the lack of wine if she was not the host? Why does Jesus address his mother in such an abrupt way: “woman”? Scholars have had a field day with the question of Mary’s interference in the festivities. It is this story that has led to the theory (used by Dan Brown) that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene. If this were the case, it would explain Mary’s concern with the wine – she is the host of the celebration. It is her responsibility to have catered adequately for the party, it is her reputation that will be harmed if she proven to be an inadequate host. This is why Mary notices the shortfall and looks to Jesus for a solution.

Commentaries on John’s gospel provide answers to some of these questions, but the real key to the story lies not in the specific details, but in the evangelist’s purpose in recording it. The heart of the account is not Jesus’ relationship with his mother, nor is it the miracle itself, nor even the vast quantity of wine that results. The last line of the story tells us that its primary purpose is the revelation of the person of Jesus – to the disciples who are present and to those who will read the account later.

From start to finish, the author of John’s gospel is intent on making known that Jesus is the one who is to come, the one sent by God to bring salvation to the world and eternal life to those who believe. As we learn in chapter 20, John’s gospel is written: “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.” So the purpose of the first of Jesus’ miracles recorded by John is to bring people to faith in him.

Unlike the Synoptic Gospels which begin with Jesus’ healing the sick and casting out demons, John begins with a wedding and a miracle of abundance. What is not readily obvious to us will have been clear to Jesus’ disciples and would certainly have been plain to those for whom the Gospel was written. Through the use of symbol and allusion, John portrays Jesus as the one who will bring the redemption promised by God. For example, as today’s reading from Isaiah indicates, marriage is a sign of the restoration of Israel – the people will be the bride and God the groom, their shame will be taken away and they will be able to hold their heads high among the people. A wedding and a feast imply that Jesus is the one who was to come.

Elsewhere, Jesus speaks of the danger of putting new wine into old wine skins. Wine replacing water is suggestive of a new and different era replacing the old. Lastly, the water to which Jesus refers is stored in stone jars, jars which because they were not porous and could not be contaminated, held the water used for the ritual of purification. John’s readers would have understood the illusion – Jesus’ salvific action replaces the need for repeated ritual purification. Through Jesus, the people have been put right with God for all time.

In the written account at least, and possibly in the actual event, all of these images would have spoken to the disciples of the fact that God, through Jesus, was doing something new. Something that has been pointed to by the prophets was now a reality in the life and presence of Jesus. Through allusions to OT expectations John presents Jesus as God’s answer to all that has been promised. He suggests that through Jesus the relationship between the people and God has been healed, the promised banquet has begun, the forsakennness of Israel has been supplanted by marriage and that because of Jesus the need for purification has become redundant.

So you can see, there is so much more to this wedding than a miracle. The wedding allows Jesus glory to be revealed which in turn leads to the disciples’ belief in him. The revelation of Jesus in John’s gospel has one purpose and one alone, that those who see and those who hear come to believe that Jesus is the Son of God.

A miracle-worker does not change the world. Someone who turns water into wine does not bring about the salvation of humankind. The extraordinary thing about Jesus, as John’s gospel will make clear over and over again, is that he and the Father are one and that through him, the world is redeemed and the relationship with God is restored.

What is truth?

November 24, 2012

The Reign Of Christ – 2012

John 18:38 What is truth?

 

Marian Free

 In the name of God, Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier who leads us into all truth. Amen.

I imagine that when most of us think about truth, we think about the truth, about firm facts and figures that remain constant over time. We believe that if we look hard enough we will discover some universal consistency, some shared knowledge or beliefs that are true for all people and in all situations. I’m not a philosopher, but I have learnt over time that it is not as easy as that.

So what is truth? The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy tells us that the question of truth has been debated for thousands of years. It states that truth is not only one of the central topics of philosophy, but also the largest. In fact the article claims that a “huge variety of issues in philosophy relate to truth” making truth a central platform of that discipline. Within philosophy itself there are a number of ways of looking at truth. For example, one way of determining truth is to determine whether or not a statement corresponds to a fact. The statement: “James walks” can be easily verified by the observation of James walking. Another way of looking at truth is to determine whether or not a set of beliefs is coherent. A set of beliefs which says that cows are four legged, milk producing mammals with different coloured hides that sometimes have three legs is not coherent and therefore not true. Cows cannot three legs and at the same time have four legs.

The Catholic Encyclopedia is no more helpful in its definition of truth. In fact  it could be argued that it is less helpful because it relates truth to God and God is a quantity that cannot be tied down. This site uses terms like ontological truth and logical truth and speaks of truth as being in the mind of God -as if the mind of God were something we could mine for facts about the world and about existence.

Another site, the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy – at least in its Google tag – uses John 18:38 from today’s gospel as evidence that the question of truth has been around for at least 2,000 years. The biblical reference proves to be a distraction because on inspection the site is just as difficult for the uninitiated as the former two. I leave it to the philosophers among you to explore the matter further. The point is that truth is not so easily described and prescribed as we might sometimes like to imagine – which makes John 18:38 particularly interesting.

Depending on where I am coming from at the time, I see Pilate’s question, “What is truth?”, as either cynical or poignant – cynical, because history tells us that Pilate was a cruel and insecure ruler or poignant because seen sympathetically, it is an expression of confusion and a desire to see and therefore respond more clearly to the situation before him. His question comes on the heels of Jesus’ self description – “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

We too might ask Pilate’s question – what is truth? In this complex and confusing world, sometimes it is difficult to separate the wheat from the chaff, the good from the bad, to know when we are protecting our own self interests and when we are establishing laws that protect the safety of all.

In John’s Gospel, “αλήθεια” – “truth” is used 29 times, significantly more than it is used in any other gospel. From the first chapter in which Jesus is described as full of “grace and truth”, through chapter 8 in which Jesus says, “you will know the truth and the truth will set you free” to the well known, “I am the way, the truth and the light”, truth is a consistent theme. Truth, according to the author of the gospel, relates to Jesus’ unity with God which allows him to be or to reveal what is true. Further it is the relationship between God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit which enables Jesus to promise that the Holy Spirit will lead believers in to the truth. Through the Trinity, Jesus’ claims, those who believe in him will know the truth and this knowledge will set apart those who belong to him from those who do not.

Having had a brief look at the way in which the philosophers define truth, it is interesting to consider the way in which it is used by the author of John’s gospel. Here the expression is used in a very particular way. “Truth” in the fourth gospel refers to right judgement – knowing truth from falsehood, distinguishing good from evil, being able, as God is, to make right judgements. When we understand this, it becomes easier to understand Pilate’s question.

Pilate’s dilemma was just this. He has been asked to make a judgement based, it would appear, on very little evidence and despite his reputation he seems to be loathe to become involved in something that is not strictly his provenance – a question of religious law. As a way to avoid decision-making, he first of all tries to hand the decision back to those who brought Jesus to him. When that fails, he gives Jesus the responsibility to acquit or condemn himself. Perhaps, if Jesus will say that he is a King, Pilate will be relieved of making a decision because the course in front of him would be clear – he could put him to death for treason.

It is curious that even though Pilate has the authority to rule and the authority to judge, he wants to abdicate that responsibility in this instance. Even though history records that he is a vicious, uncompromising man, John depicts him as indecisive and at least a little bit concerned to do the right thing. In the end though, Pilate fails. He is unable to make the decision. The fact that he does not know the truth (ie that he cannot make right judgements) is exposed for all to see. Pilate was unable to make the distinction between right and wrong, he was not able to make the right choice between the angry crowd and the innocent man. Though he had authority over the people before him and as the person with authority was in a position to judge, in this instance at least he could not make the decision. in the final analysis, he could not make the choice to do what was right.

What is truth? Pilate’s question resonates throughout history and history records that by and large humanity is very poor at making the right judgements. In the end only God can truly distinguish between good and evil. As Christians, as those who claim to hear Jesus’ voice, we have the potential to be united with Jesus and have been promised the gift of the Holy Spirit who will lead us into all truth. There are no easy answers to Pilate’s question. In the end truth, right judgement belongs to God. If we seek the truth, we need to submerge our egos and deflate our arrogance. The more we confront our selfishness and self interest, the more we will be able to become one with Christ and the more easily will we be guided by the Holy Spirit. The best that we can do is to give ourselves over to God and do the best we can.

When it gets too hard do you wish to go away?

August 19, 2012

Pentecost 12

John 6:51-58

Marian Free

 In the name of God – source of life, wisdom and joy. Amen.

 “Do you also wish to go away?” Jesus’ question to his disciples in verse 67 catches us by surprise. These are the people with whom he has chosen to share his mission, his most private moments. In their turn, they have chosen to follow him despite what others might think. Why would they now want to go away? Today’s gospel helps us to understand the lead up to Jesus’ question. In fact, we have to go back to the beginning of chapter 6 to see how the tension builds to the point where some disciples leave Jesus and Jesus is forced to ask the remainder if they too wish to leave. The author of John’s gospel records the account of the feeding of the five thousand and Jesus’ walking on the water as do the other three gospels. According to the author of John, the crowds which have been following Jesus, discover that he is on the other side of the lake and pursue him. This provides Jesus with an opportunity to challenge their self-centredness and to elaborate on his role and his mission.

Jesus perceives that the crowds are primarily interested in what he can do for them – provide food, heal the sick and so on. These signs, while important, are not the real reason that Jesus is here. He challenges those who have followed to seek the deeper meaning of Jesus’ presence among them. Bread sustains the body for a limited time. Jesus asks his listeners to consider the sort of food that will sustain them in the present and more importantly for eternity. He asks them to look beyond their physical needs for sustenance and to seek the food that endures – the spiritual food that sustains the soul. This is the food that he provides to those who seek it.

As part of this argument, Jesus claims to be the ‘bread of life’. We are so familiar with this concept that it can be difficult for us to understand how such a discussion could create the sort of offense that would cause some of Jesus’ disciples to abandon him and Jesus to ask if others too wish to go away. Jesus as the ‘bread of life’ provides us with strength and courage, spiritual nourishment and support.  Perhaps if Jesus had left the argument there his disciples would have remained with him. However, Jesus has claimed to be the bread from heaven which endures forever – unlike the manna in the wilderness which sustained the Israelites in the present, but which was unable to give them eternal life. Among his listeners would have been those who would have heard Jesus’ suggestion that he was more important than – in fact that he had superseded Moses.

If that claim were not confronting enough, Jesus makes the even more disturbing claim: “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this brad will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh. Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” Not only is the idea of eating flesh and drinking blood utterly repulsive, it is impossible for Jesus’ audience to grasp such a difficult and distressing concept. Many of them know Jesus, they know his mother and his father. They know that he is a human being like themselves – how can he say that he has come down from heaven? It is impossible for them to even begin to conceive that it is possible, let alone necessary for them to consume this man’s flesh and blood if they are to have eternal life! No wonder many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him! They say: “This teaching is difficult, who can accept it?”

They have failed to understand that Jesus, through this dramatic and uncomfortable language, Jesus is asking his followers not to physically eat him, but to become one with him, to allow him to become so much a part of them that it is as if they are indeed one flesh and blood. Eating and drinking are metaphors for this complete unity. In some way faith is a process of somehow absorbing Jesus into our lives and allowing our lives to be absorbed into that of Jesus.

Eating and drinking are strong images, but they are not totally unfamiliar. We say to children: “I could just eat you!” We don’t mean that literally, we just mean that we love them so much that we don’t want to be separated from them. This is the sort of relationship that Jesus is asking his disciples (and us) to have with him.

It is at this point that Jesus asks those who remain: “Do you also wish to go away?” To which Peter responds: “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.  We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” Peter, who so often fails to understand, who so often gets it wrong has cut to the core. He may not always understand what Jesus has to say, but he knows what Jesus means – to himself and to the world. Peter may not really understand Jesus’ teaching at this point, but he is sure of one thing – that there is nowhere that he would rather be, nowhere else that he would receive the sort of spiritual guidance that he has found in Jesus. He knows that in the present and in the future, it is his relationship with Jesus that has opened the doors of heaven.

I suspect that it is the same for us. There may be times when we do not understand – when scripture seems too difficult, when the events of our lives or the lives of others seem inexplicable – but we with Peter know that Jesus is the means to eternal life. We have thrown in our lot with Jesus, and nothing in this life or the next will separate us.

 

 

 

 

Bread of life

August 11, 2012

Pentecost 11

John 6:35, 41-51 

Marian Free

In the name of God who sustains and fulfils us. Amen.

 Some years ago there was an advertisement for a (then) popular deodorant. The ad featured a beautiful woman holding up various essential items and saying things like: “I can do without my iPhone, I can do without my hair dryer, I can do without my first cup of coffee, but I can’t do without my Mum.” Of course, it’s a play on words. Our minds immediately leap to the conclusion that she can’t do without her mother, but in fact Mum is the brand name of the deodorant that she is promoting! It was a clever piece of advertising – not only because obviously I still remember it, but also because for a while, the phrase: “I can’t do without” passed into common use.

In the scale of things, deodorant is a particularly superficial item to be unable to go without. People are starving and dying of disease every day, surely we can go without something that is not vital to our well-being, but only to our vanity. However, the goal of advertising is to convince us that we simply cannot do without the latest fashion, the latest kitchen items, the latest phone or computer. Many of us today have lives cluttered with things that we do not absolutely need, but which seemed a good idea at the time. It gives pause for thought. What do we really require for a reasonable life? What things are absolutely essential for our well-being and what things are essentially luxuries?

Some of the things we need are obvious. We simply cannot survive without water, oxygen and a certain amount of food. Warmth and shelter are also good but not necessary. In 1943 a man named Abraham Maslow published a seminal paper in which he identified a hierarchy of needs. All these years later psychology students would be familiar, if not with his work, then with the hierarchy to which he gave his name. The hierarchy he developed suggests that a person’s basic needs must be met in order for them to be creative and moral. So at the bottom of the hierarchy are things like breathing, food, water, sex. When those needs are met a person may becomes aware of the need for safety (both physical and economic). When one is fed and safe, love and belonging become important for happiness. These are followed, Maslow would say, by the need for self-esteem (confidence, achievement, respect form others). It is only when all these underlying needs are met, he claims, that a person is able to achieve self-actualisation – creativity, spontaneity, lack of prejudice and so on.

There are some flaws in Maslow’s argument. A number of creative people are creative, not because they have reached some higher dimension of existence, but precisely because their needs for love or something else have not been met. Their art is drawn not from their self-fulfilment, but from their suffering. Likewise we often witness people who to us, seem to be living in the most dire of circumstances and yet who are able to express surprising joy and inclusiveness.

Today’s gospel is part of a long discourse on bread in which Jesus claims to be both the bread of life and the living bread that has come down from heaven. For many people bread is one of the staples of life. Jesus appears to be claiming that he is both essential for life and that a relationship with him is the key to eternal life. In contrast to Maslow’s hierarchy, Jesus places himself at the bottom of the pyramid and implies that all else in life is built on faith in him.

As he does so often, Jesus seems to be challenging his audience to consider where their priorities lie and where they place their relationship with him in comparison to their other needs and wants. By claiming to be the bread of life and by comparing himself with the manna in the wilderness, Jesus is suggesting that his listeners need to place him at the centre of their lives, to have the confidence that if they put him at the heart, all else will fall into place. Jesus is claiming that faith in him is essential to the well-being of all people. It is not an optional extra that can be drawn on only when it is absolutely needed, rather it is the central requirement for a life that is rich and satisfying.

This is more difficult that it appears – especially for Jesus listeners. Many of them have known him all his life, they know his parents and they know that he didn’t come down from heaven, but was born in the usual way. For Jesus’ audience accepting that he was who he said he was meant suspending their rational minds and allowing themselves to trust that what Jesus said was indeed true and that he could supply all their wants. Further, it meant letting go what they had believed until now and trusting that God was indeed doing something new in Jesus, that they faith they had held was being enlarged to include all that Jesus did and taught. For many this was an impossible task. They simply could not make the leap. They could accept Jesus as a miracle worker, but not as the source of their being or the most essential part of their lives.

This sort of faith is no easier for our generation. Faith still does involve a suspension of the rational and a belief in something that ultimately cannot be proven. The faith that Jesus demands is not new to us as it was to Jesus’ first century listeners. We are not caught by surprise as they were. However, that does not mean that it is easy. For ourselves, accepting Jesus as the bread of life entails trusting Jesus with one’s whole life and not just with part of it. It means relying on Jesus (and not on our own strength) when things get tough. It means learning to be grateful for all that we have and knowing that Jesus will give us those things that we really need. It means that Jesus is the one thing in life that we simply cannot do without.

What is the one thing in life that you cannot do without? Is your answer Jesus?