Archive for the ‘John’s Gospel’ Category

Is seeing believing? Thomas

April 6, 2024

Easter 2 – 2024

John 20:19-31

Marian Free

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

In the name of God, who reveals Godself to us, as and when we need to know God’s presence. Amen.

Today’s gospel is rich in detail, detail that we fail to notice because our focus too often has been on Thomas. The idea of a doubting Thomas has become part of our lingua franca as if the primary purpose of Jesus’ resurrection. appearances was to expose Thomas’ need for proof, to congratulate those who do not need proof and to chide those who need to see to believe.  

A number of problems arise when we approach Jesus’ resurrection appearances to the disciples with this blinkered, one-eyed approach. A primary problem, as I have pointed out previously is that among the disciples in John’s gospel, Thomas is one of the few who has a speaking part. It is Thomas, who in an earlier chapter avers that he will die with Jesus and Thomas who, when Jesus says that they know the way to where he is going (14:4) has the courage to ask the question that is on the lips of every disciple: “We do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”

Far from being the example of a questioning, doubting disciple, Thomas demonstrates what it is to be a leader among the disciples and a confident follower of the earthly Jesus. One might even argue that Thomas’s absence from the locked room (in which the other disciples had hunkered down “for fear of the Jews”) was that, of all the disciples he was not to be afraid to go out – even if that meant being put to death with or for Jesus!

If the focus of today’s gospel is not Thomas’ failure to believe, we need to look at the text anew. 

Looking at the two resurrection appearances together, we notice that the disciples (with the exception of Thomas) are afraid, so afraid that they have locked the doors of the house. They are afraid – despite the fact that Peter and John at least have seen the empty tomb. They are afraid –   even though Mary Magdalene has reported that she has seen (and touched) the risen Christ.  Thomas is not alone, until the other disciples see Jesus for themselves they are all unbelievers. It is only when Jesus appears among them and shows them his hands and side that the disciples let go of their fear and rejoice. 

What happens next suggests that Thomas feels that he has been hard done by. For some reason, Jesus chooses to appear at a time when only Thomas is not present. In the absence of Thomas, Jesus has commissioned the other disciples to carry on his ministry and has equipped them with the Holy Spirit. Further, Jesus has given those disciples authority to forgive. Up until now Thomas has shown leadership qualities, his absence now is evidence of his courage. It would be surprising if he didn’t feel disappointed and overlooked. His petulant cry might reflect his disappointment that he was not present and his refusal to believe his fellow disciples as much as it reflects his scepticism that Jesus had risen. 

Not surprisingly, Thomas’ demand is no problem for Jesus.  A week later, (possibly the next time they were all together) Jesus appears again. On this occasion the doors are shut, but not locked. Jesus again offers “Peace”. He invites Thomas to touch his scars and, to not be unbelieving[1], but to believe. Thomas’ response reminds us of his leadership qualities. Unlike the other disciples who, when they see Jesus, simply accept that he has risen, Thomas declares Jesus to be both Lord and God. Far from being the Doubter, Thomas is in fact the first, and only disciple in John’s gospel to identify Jesus as both Lord and God.

That leaves us with perhaps the most confusing aspect of today’s gospel – Jesus’ response to Thomas’s declaration. According to John, instead of commending Thomas for his declaration of faith (as he does Peter in the Synoptics), Jesus appears to chide him. “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” The question is, are those words addressed to the disciples as a whole, to Thomas alone, or does the gospel writer have his eyes firmly fixed on his readers, and on those of us who will read the words centuries later?

John concludes the resurrection account (and what some believe to be the original gospel) with the following explanation: “But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name”. Given that the gospel is written at a time when there are no eye witnesses to Jesus, let alone to the resurrection it is possible to argue that the beatitude has quite a different intent. Jesus (or the gospel writer) seems to be making it clear that the readers of John’s gospel and those like ourselves who have come to faith generations later, are at least as blessed if not more blessed than those knew him in the flesh and who as a consequence, struggled to accept his resurrection.

We who have never known the earthly Jesus, but who have his life, death and resurrection reported and interpreted in scripture, do not have to struggle with the fact that our friend, Jesus was God after all. We, who did not have to ponder how someone so obviously dead could now be alive, have the advantage of knowing the resurrected Jesus in our own lives. We are indeed blessed, because seeing and knowing may in fact have been impediment to believing.


[1] This is more accurate translation and avoids giving Thomas the misnomer of “Doubting”.

Why is this Friday “Good”?

March 30, 2024

Good Friday

John 18:1-19:42

Marian Free

In the name of God who exposes the values of this world for what they are. Amen.

I am often asked why today is called Good Friday, when it is a day filled with horror and death. 

It is good, not because of what happened OR because of what will happen. It is good because of what it tells us. 

By going willingly to the cross, by refusing to engage with a process that was blatantly unjust, and by resisting the temptation to save himself, Jesus exposed all that is wrong with this world – the grasping for and holding on to power, the desire to increase one’s wealth (albeit at the expense of others), the marginalisation and stereotyping of those who are different, the limits placed on freedom of expression, freedom of movement, and the attempts to control the narrative.  By submitting to and not fighting the powers of this world, Jesus exposes their powerlessness – to control, to limit, to label or to frighten. Jesus reveals that it is possible to play by a different set of rules – that one does not have to be bound by fear, hatred, greed or by a hunger for power or seduced by the desire for self-preservation or. control. By refusing to give evil power over him, by refusing to compromise to secure his own comfort and safety, Jesus takes power into his own hands, stripping evil of its power to intimidate, coerce or subjugate. 

Jesus overpowered evil and death by refusing to let them control his story. By facing the forces of this world head on, Jesus deprived them of their power over him.

Today is called “Good” because on this day Jesus showed that by standing apart from the world and refusing to be bound by worldly desires and conventions, and by resisting the. temptation to engage in the grasping for power, recognition and possessions Jesus stripped them of their power over him, and ultimately over us.   

It is Good Friday because the victory has been won and with our cooperation can become the reality for all people. 

Maundy Thursday – modelling resistance

March 30, 2024

Maundy Thursday

John 13:1-17, 31b-35

Marian Free

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

In a recent tweet, the Archbishop of Canterbury commented “Jesus doesn’t wash his disciples’ feet despite having power, but because of it. Jesus’ power finds its fullest expression when he gives it away. Something we’ll see again on the cross.” (@JustinWelby)

Tonight begins the observation of the Triduum, the three days from the Last Supper and Jesus’ arrest to the Resurrection.  Not everyone takes advantage of the liturgical observance of these events, but they are of one piece – each event in the Passion of Christ shedding light on and expanding another. Jesus begins by demonstrating what it means to be free of human desires, to have the confidence to overturn and reject human conventions and the courage to face death. On the cross, he exposes futility of trying to maintain power by force. On the first day of the week, Jesus’ resurrection proves that freedom is won, not by making compromises with the devil (however that is represented), but by standing firm and resisting evil (in whatever form that takes).

Tonight, John’s gospel tells us that: “Jesus knew that his hour had come.” He knew too that: “The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him.” Knowing that he was to die and knowing that one of his inner circle had already determined to hand him over to the authorities, Jesus held fast.  He refused to let his behaviour be determined by the values of this world – self-preservation, anger, bitterness, resentment, or disappointment. Jesus held fast to kingdom values, selflessness, love, forgiveness and acceptance. 

On this night, Jesus did not “rage, rage against the dying of the light”[1]. He chose not to fight the forces of this world on their terms – by force, oppression, injustice, suppression and self-protection. Jesus showed another way, the only way to defeat evil and to allow love to triumph. He tied a towel around himself, took on the role of a servant, and washed the feet of the disciples. He washed the feet of Judas, who had already made up his mind to hand Jesus over to the authorities and he washed the feet of Peter who was blinded by human pride, and he washed the feet of those who would abandon him.

Jesus’ simple action of footwashing speaks volumes. With his disciples he showed that it was possible to rise above the pettiness of human fears and jealousies.

In willingly facing his opponents, submitting to arrest and torture, Jesus demonstrated the powers of this world will not be defeated by force, that using the  tools of the enemy makes us no better than them, that vulnerability freely chosen is not weakness but strength,  that courage is stronger than fear and above all, that love is stronger than hate.

And so, having shown by example that he will not engage in the power struggles of this world, Jesus goes out to let them do their worst.


[1] Dylan Thomas Do not go gentle into that good night.

Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies

March 16, 2024

Lent 5 -2024

John 12:20-30

Marian Free

In the name of God, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver. Amen.

John’s Jesus has a tendency to be obscure. This has a number of advantages. The first is that Jesus’ vagueness opens a conversation in which the author of John’s gospel can expand on a particular theological idea. Take for example Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well. Jesus tells the woman that, if she had asked, he would have given her “living water”. Of course, the woman’s curiosity is piqued and, taking Jesus literally she asks for the living water so that she would no longer have to come to the well. We know that she has missed the point, but for the purpose of the gospel writer, her misunderstanding provides an opportunity for a discussion about Jesus’ identity. At the end of that conversation, the woman concludes that Jesus is the Christ. A consequence of the discussion, and of the woman’s discernment is that her whole community come to faith.

Another examples of Jesus’ ambiguity can be found in Jesus’ discussions about his departure. In chapter 14 Jesus announces the disciples know the way to where he is going. When Thomas exclaims that they do not know the way, Jesus responds: “I am the way, the truth and the light.” While that has become a much-quoted phrase, it really does nothing to enlighten the disciples as to the direction they must take.  (Note that earlier Jesus has told the disciples that “where he is going they cannot come.” 13:33) The effect of such /contradictory statements is that the reader/listener is forced into a state of suspended animation – caught between one way of thinking and another. Such uncertainty saves them (and us) from the confidence that they (we) understand the mystery of the divine.

Other statements in the gospel force the reader/listener to think, to puzzle through what Jesus says to discern it’s meaning. Take today’s convoluted story for example. It is worth quoting in full.  ‘Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.”  Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly, I tell you, 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. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.  Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honour.”’

Here we see that a relatively simple request from some Greeks leads to a complex series of events and a convoluted response from Jesus. The Greeks tell Philip that they’d like to see Jesus, Philip finds Andrew. They both go and tell Jesus and Jesus launches into an unrelated speech on discipleship. We don’t learn to whom he addresses his monologue or if the Greeks were ever taken to Jesus.

There is obviously more to this account than at first meets the eye. Here it is useful to remember that the gospels, especially the Gospel of John, were written with the reader in mind and with the goal of bringing them to faith. John’s gospel is particularly explicit in this regard (20:30) and, given Jesus’ instructions to the disciples in chapters 14-17, it is clear that one intention of the John’s gospel is to form disciples. It is also helpful if we understand that John’s gospel has a certain circularity or repetitive nature to it so that what we read today almost certainly relates to a theme already introduced. 

All of which sheds some light on what is going on in this morning’s gospel – the obscurity of Jesus’ response makes us pay attention and the reference to death recalls times when Jesus has referred to his own death.  Last Sunday, for example, we looked at the phrase “lifted up” which Jesus uses with reference to his own crucifixion and death. We saw that for the author of John, it was the cross, not the resurrection that was the place of victory, because it was on the cross that Jesus defeated evil and death. Two thousand years later, in the face of all the tragedy and cruelty in the world, it is difficult to continue make the claim that Jesus has defeated evil. Last week I concluded that the fact that there is still evil in world comes down to us and: “our desire to conform to society rather than to confront injustice, our concern to protect our own comfort and security and our refusal to see that our relative comfort comes at the expense of the discomfort of others, and our willingness to make compromises that result in our shoring up the status quo.”

Today’s gospel indirectly supports that conclusion. Using the image of a seed falling into the ground and dying in order to bear fruit, Jesus continues: “Those who love their life will lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” Jesus may not be responding directly to the request of the Greeks, but what he is doing is giving generalised instruction regarding discipleship (to all his listeners). 

Here in Jerusalem Jesus is at the threshold of the final part of his journey. He is aware that death/glory awaits him. “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified”. In the following chapters, over a final meal, Jesus will prepare the disciples for his death and at the same time give them instructions as to how to continue as a community without him.  As part of this preparation Jesus washes the disciples’ feet, tells them that no one has greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends, warns that they will be hated and persecuted and that those who kill them will think that they are doing so to worship God.

Discipleship is not some cosy adherence to the ten commandments, gathering for worship on a Sunday, or blending in with the crowd. Jesus makes it clear through teaching and through his own example that discipleship is a costly enterprise, it demands the selflessness to put the needs of others first, the courage to challenge unjust structures, the confidence to speak truth to power and the willingness to pay the ultimate price – giving one’s life so that others might be free to live. 

If evil is to be defeated, and if the world is to be a kinder, more just and more equitable place  something of us must we let die, so that others have a chance to simply live. 

– “Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies” –

Snakes alive! Jesus’ being lifted up

March 9, 2024

Lent 4 – 2024

John 3:14-21

Marian Free

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

Snakes alive! Today’s gospel is so dense and so filled with complex ideas that it is easy to overlook the almost throw-away line that likens Jesus to a serpent and his crucifixion to a bronze serpent placed on a pole to ward off death. 

The image of a serpent in today’s gospel is disturbing to say the least. Even though our lectionary gives us the OT Testament reference – the plague of snakes and the bronze serpent as the cure, it can be difficult to see the connection between looking at a bronze likeness and living. It is even harder to see any relationship between Jesus and this almost superstitious solution to the poisonous snakes. In the OT account, the bronze snake represents both the cause of death and the cure – (in much the same way that modern day vaccinations use the source of a disease to inoculate us against that disease). In the gospel, John is less concerned with the prevention of death and more interested in the idea that the serpent was “lifted up”.  He contends that just as the serpent was lifted up, so must the Son of Man be lifted up.

“Being lifted up” is a key phrase in John’s gospel. We meet it for the first time here, but we also come across the expression in chapter 8: “When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will realize that I am he, (28) and again in  Chapter 12 where Jesus tells the crowd: “and I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself”(32).

Chapter 12 v33 makes it clear that, in John, “lifting up” refers to Jesus’ crucifixion – not to the resurrection or ascension. Here, the author adds an aside: “He said this (about being lifted up) to indicate the kind of death he was to die.” In other words, for this gospel writer, Jesus’ being lifted up and his dying are one and the same. Jesus is lifted up on the cross and he dies on the cross. People will see Jesus lifted up, will see  the lengths that Jesus/God will go to for us and will believe. 

In John, the cross takes centre stage. It is on the cross, not through the resurrection, that victory is won. The cross is the sign of victory, not defeat, because it is on the cross that evil is defeated, and the ruler of this world is driven out. By willingly submitting to crucifixion, Jesus demonstrates that evil and death have no power over him – they can do their worst because Jesus is not in thrall to them, he will not avoid or evade them, because power belongs to God.. The cross is the place of victory because Jesus is not a victim, nor is he at the mercy of secular or supernatural powers. He could choose to avoid the cross, but he does not. In the cross is victory, not because Jesus sacrifices himself, or because an angry God demands to be appeased. In the cross is victory, because it is there, in the midst of suffering and death, that God fully identifies with the suffering and pain of the world.

The cross is a sign of Jesus’ victory not in the sense that he wants to draw attention to himself, or that he is making the choice to be a heroic martyr. Jesus chooses the cross in the sense that he doesn’t avoid it, in the sense that he follows the path set before him, even though he knows it leads to torture and death and in the sense that he refuses to be cowed by evil or by the worldly forces that conspire against him. Jesus submits to the cross because he chooses crucifixion and death over self-preservation. He chooses to walk into the lion’s den, to confront evil and to take on the ruler of this world no matter the cost.

John’s gospel depicts Jesus as a man who, from beginning to end is the master of his own destiny. There were many times and many ways that Jesus could have avoided such a gruesome end. He could have succumbed to the temptations in the wilderness and walked his own path not God’s. He could have remained in Galilee and lived out his life as a well-respected teacher and worker of miracles.  He could have kept quiet about the misleading teaching, the corruption, and the injustices that he observed both within the church and in the governing powers. 

Jesus would not save himself if it meant being complicit with the powers that control and subdue the people, he would not take the easy way out and protect his own life when there were truths to be told and he would not make compromises that would in effect be colluding with the powers of this world. 

Even though the cross led to Jesus’ death, the author of John can claim that the cross (not the resurrection) is the place of victory because Jesus did not allow his message to be contained, colonised, sanitised, or moderated. He held to the truth even though to do so was dangerous. He refused to compromise, even when compromise would have been safer.  He defeated evil by refusing to give evil the last word. 

Today, in the face of the horrors that we are witnessing in Gaza, the Ukraine, the Sudan, Haiti, Afghanistan, Iraq, and countless other places I find myself asking in what way is the cross a sign of victory here and now? How can we claim victory when injustice abounds and whole nations are oppressed, when people continue to live in abject poverty and when there is an inequitable distribution of the world’s resources?  

I suspect that the answer lies with us. The cross was the place of victory, because on the cross, instead of putting himself first, Jesus aligned himself with all the suffering of the world.  That the world continues to promote violence, oppression and injustice, relates in part to our desire to conform to society rather than to confront injustice, our concern to protect our own comfort and security and our refusal to see that our relative comfort comes at the expense of the discomfort of others, and our willingness to make compromises that result in our shoring up the status quo.

The cross is the place of Jesus’ victory, but it can only be the place of victory for all people if we make it so, if we continue Jesus’ self-giving, self-denying confrontation of evil.

Jesus has demonstrated that evil can be defeated, but it will only be truly defeated when it loses its power over us.

Where is God’s house? Cleansing of the Temple

March 2, 2024

Lent 3 – 2024

John 2:13-22

Marian Free

May we respond to God’s word by loving God with all our hearts and all with our souls and with all our minds. Amen.

There can be nothing more certain than the resistance that is offered when a church is threatened with closure or the resentment that results from the same[1]. Even though members of the congregation may be able to articulate the belief that the church is the people not the building, emotions run strong when their place of worship is threatened with closure. The congregation may be a shadow of its former self, there may be several other churches within easy driving distance, their priest may be overworked and there may be better uses to which the resources might be put, but they will be able to come up with all kinds of reasons as to why the building must be retained. If a church is closed there will be a number of reactions. In the worst-case scenario. the “offended” parties will no longer attend worship anywhere. Some will join a different community, but never really integrate and a few will hold the view that God is not in the building and will fully engage in the life of the community which they find themselves.

Churches (the buildings) become so much more than a place of worship. They hold memories of baptisms, weddings, and funerals, of shared joys and sorrows not to mention memorials in the form of windows and other furnishings. There is the history that the building shares with the community in which it finds itself. Some feel that all this will be lost if the physical building is moved or becomes the property of someone else.

Today’s gospel is about a building. The Temple was the focus of all Jewish worship and ritual. It housed the Holy of Holies which was entered only once a year on the Feast of Atonement and was a visible sign of God’s presence with God’s people[2].

Interestingly, the author of the gospel of John, introduces the Temple at the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry.  According to the Synoptic writers, Jesus goes to Jerusalem only once and that at the end of his ministry.  John has Jesus visit Jerusalem three times and he brings the ‘cleansing of the Temple” forward from Jesus’ last week on earth, making it his first public action. Each gospel includes this event, but there are several differences between John and the other gospel writers apart from the timing. John’s account is longer and includes different OT quotes and a discussion with the Jews about the destruction and rebuilding of the Temple. It is only in John’s gospel that Jesus speaks of the temple of his body. Most significant perhaps is that in John’s version, Jesus fashions a whip out of cords and uses it to drive the traders and moneychangers out of the Temple. This is a very deliberate and quite violent act. Jesus loses his temper, but he is controlled enough to make a weapon.  

We cannot be certain why John moves this event, or why he adds the details that he does, but we can see that by moving it to the beginning of the gospel, he introduces a sense of foreboding that hangs over the gospel as a whole. Jesus has offended the whole religious establishment by his actions and from now on his life will be in danger. At the same time, the author has (at the beginning) alluded to the end of the story – Jesus will die, but three days later he will rise. (Allusions to Jesus’ death and resurrection permeate this gospel). Another theme that occurs here for the first time is the idea that in some way Jesus will replace the Temple and the Jewish festivals.  (“He was speaking of the temple of his body.”)

This latter theme is significant because at the time the gospels are written the Temple – that centre of Jewish faith and practice – had been destroyed. Those who believed in Jesus (and those who did not) had to work out how it was possible to continue to worship God and to practice their faith when there was no longer anywhere to make offering and to gather together to celebrate God’s past actions. – the Passover, the Festival of lights, 

The Pharisees concluded that the way forward lay in the law and so Rabbinic Judaism was born. The Johannine community believed that neither the law nor the Temple were needed to be in a relationship with God. Jesus’ body is the Temple, there is need for anyone or anything to mediate between the believer and God. In other words, this gospel writer eases the grief and addresses the confusion and trauma. of those who are lost without the Temple. He makes it clear that there is no longer any need for a physical Temple and no need for the various rituals that made one right with God.

Given how different John’s account of the cleansing of the Temple is, one wonders if it is possible that Jesus’ anger here reflects the author’s frustration with those who are tied to a building not a living faith; with those who are looking back with longing rather than forward to God’s future; or with those who continue to believe that God is found only in one place.

We will never know why John changed the story, but we can still allow the story to challenge us. 

Are we so attached to our church building that we cannot imagine practicing our faith anywhere else? Are we guilty of looking back to a past that is no more, or are we waiting expectantly to see what God will do next? Do we place our confidence in places and rituals or in a relationship with the living God? 

Is there anything about our practice of the faith that would drive Jesus to distraction?


[1] That said, when I was a Parish priest I oversaw the closure of a church, which was managed with grace.

[2] Synagogues were places of meeting, teaching, and discussion – worship and ritual happened in the Temple.

Who or what is a disciple? some thoughts.

January 13, 2024

Second Sunday after Epiphany – 2024

John 1:43-51

Marian Free

In the name of God in whose kingdom all are welcome. Amen.

If I was to ask you to tell me the story of Jesus’ calling the disciples, I am sure that your default option would be to tell me the story of the fishermen – Peter and Andrew, James and John. It is the story that we will all have been taught in Sunday School and many of us will still be captivated if not in awe of the way in which the fishermen, without hesitation, left their trade and their families to follow someone who, to all intents and purposes was a. complete stranger. At this point in Mark’s gospel, nothing has set Jesus apart from the crowd and still they follow.

John tells a very different story. In the fourth gospel Jesus does not choose the first disciples – they choose him – which is more in keeping with the Jewish tradition. In this gospel, Jesus is not a complete unknown. John the Baptist has already declared Jesus to be the “Lamb of God” the one who takes away the sins of the world – the one who comes after John but who ranks ahead of him. It is perhaps no surprise then, that on the following day when John points out the same “Lamb of God” that two of his disciples follow Jesus. One of those is Andrew – the brother of Simon Peter. It is Andrew who brings Simon to Jesus (not Jesus who calls).

The setting of this scene is Bethany which is not far from Jerusalem but something like 160 kilometres from Capernaum on the Sea of Galilee. So, it is at Bethany on the Jordan that Andrew and one other decide to follow Jesus.

It is only on the following day that Jesus leaves the place where John has been baptising and makes his way to Galilee. There Jesus finds Philip and asks him to follow him. Philip finds Nathaniel who famously cannot believe that Nazareth (a tiny village) can produce anyone of note. We are not told whether or not Nathaniel becomes a disiciple, but what is clear is that Jesus does not take offense, rather that he is happy to engage with the cynical Nathaniel and to reveal something of himself.

This introduction to Jesus’ ministry illustrates two ways in which the Johannine gospel differs from the Synoptics. In the first instance, the characters that populate this gospel are different, or have different roles. The second is that one of John’s teaching methods is to have Jesus engage in conversation – with people who question him and his role (Nathaniel, Nicodemus), with outsiders, like the woman at the well.

It is the people I would like to focus on.

In the Synoptic gospels, the key characters – Peter, James and John are the members of Jesus’ inner circle, but we look for them in vain in John’s gospel. Here the key people include Andrew one of the first to follow and the disciple who finds a boy with five loaves and who brings the child to Jesus. Thomas, of whom we hear nothing in the Synoptics is the disciple who, in this gospel declares that he will go to Jerusalem with Jesus – even if he must die with him (11:16) and who says when Jesus announces his departure: “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” (14:5). Martha and Mary play a leading role in the account of the raising of Lazarus. It is Mary Magdalene to whom the risen Jesus reveals himself, and who is entrusted with a message to the disciples. Peter, James and John do not even have speaking roles until the last (disputed chapter).

It seems that the heroes in John’s community were very different from those know to other early communities. This is interesting, but it is also important. It tells us that the early church was not monolithic and that Jesus’ disciples were not remembered equally in all places. It tells that perhaps the disciples spread out and formed churches and that they were (of course) better known by the communities they formed or within which they found themselves.

Perhaps more importantly, John’s gospel widens our perspectives as to what it meant to be a disciple. A disciple did not have to be rash and foolish like Peter, or ambitious like James and John. A disciple was not only someone who followed blindly, but someone who followed only when their questions were asked. A disciple could be brave enough to ask questions without feeling that they would be made to look foolish. A disicple could challenge Jesus (If you had been here our brother would not have died). And a disciple could weep at the empty tomb and cling to the risen Jesus.

Knowing the disciples in John’s gospel, broadens our understanding of Jesus’ followers and knowing their cynicism, questioning, challenging natures, makes it easier to find our place among them.

“I am not” John the Baptist gives way to Jesus

December 16, 2023

Advent 3 – 2023

John 1:6-8. 19-28

Marian Free

In the name of God who formed us in the womb and who calls us. Amen.

One of the features of today’s gospel is the dominance of negative expressions.  By that I mean that the two short passages consist primarily of negatives. The reading focuses on the mission of John the Baptist and yet it focuses much more on what John is not, rather than on who and what John is. In the first section, (v8) the narrator informs us that: “John himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.” In the second part of the reading, John’s responses to the priests and Levites sent from Jerusalem, become more and more clipped[1]. In answer to questions about who he is, John replies: “I am not the Christ, I am not (Elijah), and simply “no” (to the question as to whether he is the prophet.) In Greek and English, John replies with 5 words, 3 words and finally one word. Even the use of language makes the point – he, John is not the one they are looking for. (He will decline and Jesus will increase.)

Of course, I hear you say, that is how it is meant to be. John’s role was to be the forerunner. He knew that he was not the Christ.

For the moment though, I am asking you to put away your tidy preconceptions – that John was Jesus’ cousin, destined to be in Jesus’ shadow, that John’s parents were good and pious Jews of priestly families, that John knew from birth what his role was. This is a view that is supported only by the author of Luke whom it suits to have parallel stories of the two men.

Let’s imagine, as the other gospels do, that John suddenly appears on the scene, driven by the Spirt to call people back to God. In response, he adopts the identity of a prophet (or even of a messiah)[2] and proclaims, “a baptism for the forgiveness of sins”. Whatever drove him into the wilderness, John appears to have picked up on the Zeitgeist of the time – dissatisfaction with Temple worship and with the priests who were puppets of Rome and a longing for Israel to turn to God and to be restored. Certainly, his presence and his message touched a chord, for according to Mark, people from the whole Judean countryside and from Jerusalem made the journey into the wilderness to hear him and be baptised by him. Even the Temple leadership and the Pharisees felt compelled to come and see what he was about, to query whether he might be the expected Christ and even to seek baptism.

This is heady stuff. A lesser person might have allowed such success to go to their head. A lesser person might have thought that the reaction of so many people (Including the religious leaders) was a sign that God had sent him to call people to repentance. A lesser person might have been resentful that Jesus was turning up to steal the limelight to take over the movement that he had so successfully begun. Whatever John’s background or sense of call, he could have made the situation all about him, about his call and his ministry – after all (at this point in time) he had followers and disciples, and Jesus did not. It would have been easy for John to continue with the work that he had begun – turning the hearts of the people towards God.  But John does none of these things. Instead, he points the people (even his own disciples) towards Jesus and allows himself to fade from view. 

In putting himself second, John is not engaging in false modesty or cynical self-abasement. He is not suffering from a lack of confidence or a damaged ego. Rather, by refusing to allow personal ambition and pride to drive him, John is able to be his God-given self and to fulfill the role to which God had appointed him. John could genuinely rejoice in and support the ministry of Jesus, because he was secure in the knowledge of himself – his role, his gifts, and abilities. He did not need to compete with Jesus or to be anything or anyone other than who he knew himself to be. 

More than that, John’s willingness to let go and to allow Jesus to continue, makes John, not only the forerunner of the Christ, but the first to model what it means to die to self in order to live to God. John’s life and ministry shows that it is not only possible, but necessary to submit one’s own desires, ambitions to the will of God, that it is not only possible but necessary, to measure one’s achievements by kingdom values, not earthly values, and that it is not only possible, but necessary, to shed our self-identity, in order that God may be fully formed in us.  

John was able to give way to Christ because he had already surrendered his life to God. 

As we come to the end of this Advent season, may we surrender our earthly desires, so that we may seek only the joy and peace that comes from the presence of God in our lives, may we examine our lives, and empty ourselves of anything that prevents Christ from being born in us and may we let go of our need to be in control so that the Spirit might lead us wherever she wants us to go. 


[1] Frederick Dale Bruner, quoted in the Advent resources provided by the Centre for Excellence in Preaching.

[2] Jesus was far from the only messianic figure in first century Palestine.

God’s home in us – John 14:15-21

May 13, 2023

Easter 6 – 2023
John 14:15-21
Marian Free

In the name of God who has made God’s home with us. Amen.

Our neighbour, Norma was a thoughtful, generous person. Whenever she came to visit, she would bring something. I remember that my mother used to feel awkward about this because the usual response would be to give something in return. In normal circumstances, one would simply take a cake or flowers or chocolate when next visiting Norma. The problem was that my mother instinctively knew that such a gesture would cause embarrassment. Norma gave because she wanted to give. Our job was to be gracious in our acceptance of that gift – even if our automatic response was to give something back.

Receiving unexpected or undeserved gifts can make us feel uncomfortable or obligated because we live in a that operates on an economy of exchange. If you have something that I would like then, in order to get it, I must give something in return. If you would like to receive respect, you must behave in such a way as to earn that respect. If we want to advance in our careers, we have to ensure that we gain the necessary qualifications, get the requisite experience and so on. In other words, in this life, we learn that nothing is free.

An economy of exchange encourages us to place value on things, on people and on relationships; to determine the worth of a person or an object. It creates a dualistic outlook in which people and things are divided into good and bad, worthy, and unworthy, people who can benefit us and people who cannot. Not only that, it creates an atmosphere in which we tend to strive for approval, for success and for financial gain. An economy of exchange leads to a culture of competition. We determine our own value by measuring ourselves against others. It ill-equips us for living in the kingdom of God.

When we live in a competitive, dualistic world, our tendency is to internalize the values that we see in the world. As a consequence we live with a divided self. In other words, we separate ourselves into good or bad, loveable or unlovable, holy or profane with all the negative consequences that that entails. A divided self is always aware of its shortcomings and it always comparing itself with, measuring itself against others in order to feel better about itself. A person who doesn’t accept themselves as a whole, complete, loveable person never feels truly worthy, is always striving to be what they are not, and always striving to please an apparently unsatisfied God.

There are so many difficulties with this. A dualist worldview reveals a belief that God’s love must be earned, a conviction that God’s creation (ourselves) is unpleasing to God and that is that there are parts of ourselves/others/this world that do not belong to God or are not part of God’s creative plan. Worse, this attitude leads us to search scripture to find a measuring stick, a way to judge ourselves and others. The creation story exposes this approach as flawed and invalid. It is we who measure ourselves – not God. To give just two examples: according to the first chapter of Genesis, God created everything and saw that it was good and if that were not enough, the Incarnation is proof positive that God rather than reject our humanity (which is good) God fully embraces it for Godself. In becoming human, God became part of God’s creation and in so doing, God revealed that God affirms creation in its entirety.

Last week, I quoted Meister Eckhart: “God asks only that you get out of God’s way and let God be God in you.” This week I am reminded of a statement by a Japanese scholar whose name is sadly lost to me, she wrote: “I found God in myself and loved her fiercely.”

This morning’s gospel speaks powerfully to the presence of God (Father, Son, and Spirit) within each one of us. “The Spirit of truth abides in you.” “We (Jesus and the Father) will come to you and make our home with you.” God’s presence within us should be assurance enough that we are worthy. God’s presence in us makes a nonsense of a divided self. God is either at home in all of us, or God is not in us at all.

What is more, we don’t have to behave in a particular way or think certain things before God makes God’s home in us. God’s presence in us relies solely on love – our love for God. We don’t have to to be better, be more spiritual, do more good works before God (Father, Son and Spirit) make their home in us. Jesus does not say: not “keep my commandments and I will come and live with you but: “if you love me you will keep my word.” Love comes first. Love always comes first. Keeping the commandments is a consequence of love (not a precondition for love), a consequence of God’s having first made a home with us.

If God has made a home with us, who are we to think that we are not worthy? In the end, our relationship with ourselves and others directly impinges on our relationship with God. If we reject those parts of ourselves that we do not like, if we split ourselves in two – the ‘good’ and the ‘bad’ what does that say about our understanding of God’s presence in us?

Immediately prior to this week’s gospel, Jesus has reassured the disciples that they do not need to worry about the way, because he is: “the way, the truth and the life.” Now he expands on that. Not only is he the way, but having made his home in us, he can direct us in the way.

All we need to do is search deep within ourselves to find the God within, and having found God to trust God and, trusting God, allow God to lead us flawed and imperfect though we may be.

Getting out of God’s way – John 14:6

May 6, 2023

Easter 5 – 2023
John 14:1-14
Marian Free

In the name of God who is as close as breath and yet always just beyond our reach. Amen.

I often say that Jesus did us a great disservice by not writing down his teachings or his philosophy of religion. Jesus left it open for his followers to develop their own theology and, in the case of the gospel writers, to draw up their own individual version of events. It is possible that Christianity would be more united had Jesus been more definitive or produced something in writing . There would be less confusion as to what he said and did and no need for the early church to make sense of Jesus’ death and resurrection, because Jesus would have spelled out the meaning of everything before he died. In other words, to avoid confusion, misunderstanding and division, Jesus could have made it clear that he was promoting a new religion. He could have produced a fully formed theology of the Christian faith, written a creed and provided outlines of liturgical and ecclesiastical practice so that no one need be in any doubt as to what the church should believe and what it should do.

Having said that, I suspect that Jesus’ creation of uncertainty was actually a deliberate attempt to free humanity from a need to lock God (and faith) into a rigid set of principles and behaviours. Jesus does not set anything in stone, because Jesus wants us to rely less on ourselves and more on God; to grasp that our salvation is dependent not on anything that we can do, but on what God in Jesus has done for us; and to understand that God cannot be bought, bargained with or reduced to human categories.

He wants those who follow him to avoid the trap that the Pharisees seem to have fallen into – the trap of desiring certainty, of believing that they know and understand God, and of thinking that they can stay on the right side of God if only they follow this rule or another. Jesus hopes that those who come after him will follow his example of openness to God and his willingness to trust God blindly rather than to think that we can bind God to our will.

I find the Jesus of John’s gospel is perhaps the most frustrating, obscure, and contradictory. To give just one example, in verse 13:33 Jesus says: “Where I am going, you cannot come”, then only 8 verses later he says: “You know the way to the place where I am going” and “where I am you may be also” (14:4, 3). Both cannot be true, so we are forced to live with the tension of not knowing for sure.

Jesus seems to be deliberately keeping his disciples (and therefore us) deliberately on edge, ensuring that we don’t try to lock God into one way of being or another. He knows our desire for security, but he want us to understand that our relationship with God is less a matter of holding on, but rather a matter of letting go, less a matter of living within rigid and narrow guidelines and more a matter of grasping the expansiveness and openness of God.

As Meister Eckart says: “God asks only that you get out of God’s way and let God be God in you.” God is already there, in the depths of our being. That should be the only certainty, the only security that we need. Our task, over our lifetimes, is not to seek assurance but to accept that we already have it; not to seek God in words and deeds, but to discover that God is already present in our lives and to know that we can abandon ourselves to God’s presence. The task of spirituality is not to pray more, read more, do more, just the opposite, it is to let go, to trust, and to follow Jesus to the cross so that all that is false and illusory in our lives can be stripped away and we are left with only what is pure and true – the Spirit within.

Letting go, is counter-cultural and counter-intuitive which is why we resist it and why Jesus insists on it and why Jesus models it in his own life.

So, by a roundabout route, we come at last to today’s gospel, the beginning of Jesus’ farewell speech to his disciples. The scene takes place after Jesus’ final dinner with his friends. The disciples are confused and afraid. Their world has been turned upside down. If they had thought that things would remain the same, they were sadly mistaken. In just a short period of time, Jesus has broken social convention and washed their feet. He has revealed that he is about to be handed over by one of his own, and Judas has gone out into the night to do who knows what. If that were not enough to unsettle and confuse his friends, Jesus has told them that he is going away and that where is he going they cannot come.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.” It is clear that Jesus knows that his disciples need some reassurance, but it is also obvious that Jesus is not going to accede to their need for direction by providing them with a guidebook or roadmap. As close as Jesus will get to giving them directions is to say: “I am the way, the truth and the life.” “I am the way, the truth and the life”, tells us nothing about what to do, what to believe and how to behave.

We will only find the way if we allow ourselves to be led by Jesus (not by our conceptions of Jesus). We will only know the truth if we let go of all those things we hold to be true and seek only God and God’s truth. We will only truly know life if we allow ourselves to abandon this life and to accept the life that Jesus offers.

In faith, we can only let go– not hold on, only empty ourselves – not try to fill ourselves, only get out of God’s way and let God be God in us.