Archive for the ‘John’s Gospel’ Category

So much grass – feeding 5,000

July 29, 2024

Pentecost 10 – 2024

John 6:1-21

Marian Free

In the name of God who delights in the ordinary and who feeds us – body, mind and soul. Amen.

Sometimes I wonder if we take ourselves (and therefore our faith) too seriously. Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000 is one such example.  Much ink has been spilled in the attempt to explain just what happened. Was it a miracle in the sense that Jesus was able to turn five small loaves into enough bread to feed such an enormous crowd? OR was the miracle the small boy’s offering – which in turn exposed the selfishness of the crowd who then produced the food that they had brought with them?  If wondering about the miracle were not enough, others (like myself last week) focus on what the author’s intention was in re-telling the story. For example, as I said, Mark seems to be deliberately contrasting Jesus’ selflessness and humility with Herod’s self-centredness and pride. John, as we shall see, uses the miracle as a stepping off point for a long discourse on bread and possibly on Eucharistic theology.

Knowing the scholarship adds depth and breadth to our understanding, but it doesn’t hurt to have a more playful look at the text, to wonder at the detail and to try to put ourselves into the story. Instead of asking about meaning, we can take the story at face value and imagine it being related to a congregation of believers who might be trying to get a sense of what it was like to be in the presence of Jesus. Sometimes little details stand out and bring a smile to our face reminding us that Jesus was real, that he was human just like us, that the disciples didn’t completely understand or trust Jesus (a bit like us) that the people who followed Jesus were interested in him because of what he could do (at least a little bit like us).

So, Jesus – who if we read back – has just finished a long dispute with the Jewish authorities randomly decides to go to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. We are not told how he gets there! A large crowd continues to follow him either because they are interested in his showmanship or because they believe he has the power to heal. When Jesus gets to the other side of the Sea, he goes up the mountain and sits down with his disciples – only then does he appear to notice the crowd coming up behind. 

He doesn’t teach (as in Mark and Luke) or heal (as in Matthew and Luke) but turns to Philip and poses a “teaser[1]”: “Where are we to buy enough bread for these people to eat?” We can imagine Jesus’ lips curling slightly and his eyes twinkling as he tries to suppress a smile. He knows ahead of time that Philip will take him seriously and misunderstand him. Perhaps Jesus even imagines Philip doing the maths in his head. Indeed, Philip doesn’t even answer Jesus’ question which was “where” not “how” will we buy bread.

Then “miraculously’ the bread appears in the form of a small boy who has brought his lunch to Andrew and in Andrew who, even though he thinks the offering much too small, still brings the boy to Jesus. Jesus makes no comment about the bread but tells Andrew to make the peoples sit down and, as if it is an important detail, the gospel writer tells us that there was a “great deal of grass in the place”. (Mark and Matthew mention the grass, or the green grass, but not how much there is.) This comment about the grass, adds nothing to the miracle story, but it does situate the story and allows us to picture the scene and to put ourselves in it.

I draw out these details rather than the number fed, or the baskets left over, to demonstrate the ways in which the author has tried to make the text come alive for his listeners. Through this retelling, we are shown Jesus’ initial indifference (not that he doesn’t care, but that he is so focussed on what he is doing that he doesn’t at first notice the crowd). We can also see something of Jesus’ playfulness – life doesn’t have to be taken too seriously!  At the same time through Philip, we can see the consequences of taking things too seriously – we get the wrong end of the stick, we look for the wrong solution, we don’t listen carefully to the question! In Andrew, we observe the faith that is tentative, but not afraid of being disparaged or put down. Lastly, the plentiful grass is evidence that however we understand it, and however it actually happened, there was a time and a place when a great crowd gathered around Jesus, sat on the grass, and were fed.

If we pay attention to the detail, it is easier to see what is going on, and to put ourselves into the picture – are we part of the crowd, or do we relate to the pragmatic Philip or to the hesitant Andrew? How do we feel about Jesus’ gentle teasing of Philip? What do we make of the “great deal of grass”?

The Ignatians have a method of reading the bible which might be called imaginative contemplation. This method invites us to approach the bible with all our senses, to see, hear, feel and smell what is happening, to put ourselves into the story as one of the characters and to imagine what they are thinking[2]. To do this, you first open oneself to the presence of God, before reading the passage slowly once or twice so as to become familiar with it. Then you try to put yourself in the story as one of the people or simply as an observer (perhaps a maid from the inn peaking in on the Nativity). Finally, you turn to Jesus and speak to him. If you’d like to try. This method, John 6:1-21 would be a good place to start.

Who knows what really happened and what the miracle of the feeding really was, but from this story we learn that Jesus was real, that he had a sense of humour and that he cared, about the whole person – body, mind and soul, and that the people needed full stomachs as much as they needed to hear him or to be cured of their illnesses.


[1] A much better word than ‘test”.

[2] Christina Miller gives a simple explanation here https://blog.bible/bible-engagers-blog/entry/ignatian-contemplation-how-to-read-the-bible-with-your-imagination

God in three persons

May 25, 2024

Trinity Sunday –  2024

John 3:1-17

Marian Free

 

In the name of God, Source of life, Sharer of our humanity, Fire in our hearts.  Amen.

 

Have you ever wondered about the gospel readings set for Trinity Sunday. In Year A (this year) the reading set for the day is Jesus’ encounter with Nicodemus which appears to have little to tell us. In Year B the gospel consists of Jesus’ commission to the disciples in which Jesus commands the disciples to baptise in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.  Year C gives us a reading from John which is part of the reading for Pentecost Sunday (read last week). Here in his teaching on the Spirit of truth, Jesus also refers to the Father – all three members of the Trinity are present.

 

It is difficult to develop a theology of the Trinity from these references. Indeed, it is difficult to find a direct reference to the Trinity in the New Testament. There are hints and allusions on which theologians later built a doctrine, but, apart from Matthew 28 and 2 Corinthians 13:13, there are no specifically Trinitarian statements. Given that there are no direct references to the Trinity, the lectionary struggles to find gospel readings for Trinity Sunday. Jesus doesn’t provide any teaching on this subject. He merely suggests that the nature of the one God is Triune. Unlike St Patrick Jesus  doesn’t reach for a three-leafed clover to make his point. He leaves it to the early church to make sense of his language about himself, God and the Holy Spirit.

 

That said, theologians were not working in a vacuum when they developed the concept of a God in three persons. In Romans 8 for example, Paul speaks of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit interchangeably if they were one and the same entity. Likewise John’s gospel refers to the Father, Son and Spirit as if they are one and the same. In the fourth gospel Jesus iterates over and over again that he and the Father are one. When the Spirit is formally introduced it is clear that the Spirit is indistinguishable from Jesus. So, without using the explicit language of the Trinity the early church clearly thought of God in Trinitarian terms. That is, while believers remained monotheistic, they were able to think of this one God as three persons.

 

As I’ve suggested, finding a gospel reading that is specifically Trinitarian has its difficulties and at first glance it is not easy to see what the story of Jesus’ encounter with Nicodemus has to add. Holly Hearon sheds some light on this. She states: ‘The Gospel of John is rich with language exploring the relationship between God, the Son and the Holy Spirit.’ She continues: ‘it’s goal however is not to establish doctrine; it is to tell a story about God’s love for the world. In the story of Nicodemus, the language of God, Son, and Spirit reveals unity of purpose in the full expression of God’s interaction with the world.’

 

The encounter between Nicodemus and Jesus exposes the former’s complete lack of comprehension about the nature of Jesus, about the religious experience and about the nature of God. As Jesus makes clear, despite being a teacher of Israel, Nicodemus has a limited, intellectual, earthly understanding of God.  Nicodemus’ faith is not informed by or energised by the Spirit, it is head-based not heart-based. He has recognised that Jesus is empowered by God but he has failed to understand that Jesus is God and he has no understanding of the Spirit, and no concept that a relationship with God requires a complete transformation, a willingness to be reformed and renewed, a desire to hand over one’s heart and one’s head.

 

By using the imagery of rebirth, Jesus reveals the possibility of fully immersing oneself in heavenly (spiritual/Godly) things, of entering the kingdom of heaven while remaining on earth and of forgoing intellectual understanding for the possibility of being informed by the Spirit. At the same time, Jesus indirectly reveals the threefold nature of God. All three members of the Godhead are actively involved here. God is a given, Jesus reveals God and the Spirit enlivens and equips.

 

As is the way with John’s gospel, we are left wanting more. Jesus reveals more than can be absorbed so early in the gospel, Nicodemus exposes his partial understanding and we have been given a tantalising glimpse of the threefold nature of God.

 

Perhaps this is how it should be. Tomes have been written with a goal of establishing the doctrine of the Trinity, but this tantalising glimpse gives us all that we need to enter into a relationship with the One whom we know as Source of life, Sharer of our humanity and Fire in our hearts. God who enters into our very being and brings us to new birth.

 

The promise of the Holy Spirit – Pentecost

May 18, 2024

Pentecost – 2024

John 15:26-27, 16:4b-15 (thoughts)

Marian Free

In the name of God, source of all being, eternal word, life-giving Spirit. Amen.

The revised common lectionary provides us with a three-year cycle. That is, over the course of three years, we more or less read our way through the Synoptic gospels. The Gospel of John is fitted in – primarily during Lent and Easter. This means that the fourth gospel is not read in a consecutive manner, but in a somewhat disjointed way. For example, in the Farewell Discourse (chapters 14-17) Jesus makes five promises regarding the Holy Spirit. Each of the promises along with the name (characteristic) given to the Holy Spirit, relates specifically to a fear named by Jesus immediately prior. In other words, as Jesus addresses the situation that the disciples will face when he leaves them, he makes a promise that he (or the Father) will send Holy Spirit to equip the disciples such that they need not be afraid of being left alone, of being at risk of harm, or of being ill-prepared to continue to share Jesus’ message with the world.

 Unfortunately, the way in which the lectionary presents these chapters means that the promises are spread over two years and not in the order in which they occur. Today’s gospel for example, is concerned with the third, fourth and fifth promises and we have to wait until next year to read the first and second promises. (John’s account of the giving of the Holy Spirit was read this year on the second Sunday after Easter and will be the reading for Pentecost during year A of the Lectionary.)

If read in one piece, the Farewell Discourse of the gospel of John provides a detailed description of the role of the Holy Spirit in the on-going life of the disciples and in the emerging church. 

After Jesus’ final meal and after he washes the feet of the disciples Jesus tries to prepare the disciples for his imminent departure. In so doing he recognises and addresses their anxieties and fears, in particular that they will be without him and that they will be ill-equipped to continue his work. First of all, he assures the disciples that they will not be left alone. He tells them that he will ask the Father and the Father will send another Advocate (the Spirit of Truth) to be with them forever (Promise 1, 14:16).  That same Advocate, the Holy Spirit whom the Father will send in Jesus’ name, will teach the disciples everything and remind them of all that Jesus has taught (Promise 2, 14:26).  

If the first two promises address the disciples’ concern about being left alone and unprepared to continue Jesus’ ministry, the last three follow provide assurance that, supported by the Spirit, the disciples will be able to face anything that comes their way. So, having warned the disciples that they will be hated by and even persecuted by the world, Jesus reassures the disciples that they need not worry unduly, because the Advocate (the Spirt of truth) will testify on Jesus’ behalf, indeed they will be able to testify with the support of the Spirit.  Further, the work of the disciples will be facilitated by the Spirit who will prove the world wrong about sin and righteousness and judgement. (Without any effort on the part of the disciples, the world will see itself as it really is.) Finally, Jesus insists that the disciples -who are uncomprehending and uneducated – will be able to teach, because the Spirit of truth will teach them. 

Jesus knows that his confused and frightened disciples cannot, at this time, absorb all that he has to tell them instead he leaves it to the Holy Spirit to continue his work of teaching them and he assures the disciples that the Spirit will guide them into all the truth.

The Holy Spirit is Jesus’ continuing presence in the world, a presence that will continue to support, encourage and inform the disciples (and the generations who will follow on) and will enable them to discern sin, righteousness and judgement and to continue to grow in faith and knowledge (to know the truth).

At first glance, John’s picture of the Holy Spirit is very different from the sudden and dramatic appearance of the Spirit at Pentecost depicted in Acts. A closer inspection however reveals more similarities than are at first obvious. In both accounts the role of the Spirit is to transform a group of lost, frightened and uncomprehending disciples into confident, courageous and informed proclaimers of the gospel. If there is more theatre in Acts, there is more detail in John. If in John, Jesus prepares the disciples in advance of his death, in Acts the resurrected Jesus assures the disciples that the Holy Spirit will come. If in John’s gospel Jesus promises the disciples that the Holy Spirit will equip them to testify, in Acts Jesus assures the disciples that the Holy Spirit will empower them to be his witnesses.

Whether through a dramatic experience, or through quiet assurance, the Holy Spirit empowers all who proclaim Jesus as Lord. 

How do you experience the continuing presence of Jesus in the world? In what ways does the Holy Spirit empower and inform you? Do you allow the Holy Spirit to work through you in the world? 

In the world but not of the world

May 11, 2024

Easter 7 – 2024

John 17:6-9

Marian Free

In the name of God, who in Jesus fully immersed godself in the messiness of human existence. Amen.

Thomas Merton was a monk, a contemplative, a poet, a writer and an activist. He was the most prolific spiritual writer of the twentieth century and had a profound influence on inter-faith dialogue.  

Merton had an unsettled childhood and young adulthood. His mother had died when he was six, shortly after the family had moved from France to the United States. His widowed father sent the young Merton to boarding school in France. Two years later he took Merton out of that school and moved the family to England. After finishing school Merton began studying at Cambridge but was very unhappy there.  At 20 he enrolled att Columbia University where he completed his studies. Merton considered himself to be an atheist but a meeting with Mahanambrata Brahmachari, a Hindu monk convinced him to explore his own spiritual roots.  Merton took this advice and was later baptised into the Catholic church.  At the age of 27 he joined a community of Trappist monks at Gethsemani in Louisville, Kentucky. Over the course of his short life (he died aged 53), he was a monk, a priest, a writer and a social activist. 

Merton sought the quiet of a contemplative life – indeed, his ideal was to spend time in complete isolation – however an experience in March, 1958 led him to understand that engagement with the world was as essential as withdrawal from the world. He records the experience in Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander:

“In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of separateness, of spurious self-isolation in a special world, the world of renunciation and supposed holiness… This sense of liberation from an illusory difference was such a relief and such a joy to me that I almost laughed out loud… I have the immense joy of being man, a member of a race in which God Himself became incarnate. As if the sorrows and stupidities of the human condition could overwhelm me, now I realize what we all are. And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun.”

This experience convinced Merton that following Jesus meant not only contemplation but also action and it taught him that his existence was integrally connected to the existence of the whole world and that he had to take a stand on the issues of the day – civil rights, the Vietnam war, nuclear proliferation – it was the sixties after all. Merton saw race and peace as the critical issues and he spoke and wrote about both. He was considered to be a radical and his unusual and untimely death was the cause of much speculation.[1]

Merton’s insight that he had to be both in the world and not of the world is central to Jesus’ prayer in today’s gospel. He saw, as Jesus saw, that it is impossible to remain aloof and disinterested, that it is impossible to see the suffering of the world and to be indifferent, and that prayer and action are not separate, but are two sides of the same coin.

Being in the world and not of the world is costly. Seeing and calling out injustice does not make for an easy existence amongst those who are content with the status quo. Jesus was crucified, and his prayer suggests that those who follow him will be hated, but this does not prevent him from asking God to send them into the world just as he was sent into the world.

The gospels are clear that Jesus’ life was not one of pious withdrawal, but of active involvement in the world. He immersed himself in human existence. Jesus was not afraid of being polluted by the unclean, the unworthy, the poor and the marginalised. He was not interested in respectability nor was he afraid of offending the establishment. Jesus refused to conform to the norms of his society. He confronted injustice and challenged religious structures that made impossible demands and that made decisions about whom God did and didn’t love.

We are called to follow Jesus’ example, but making sense of how we are called to engage with the issues of our day is not always straightforward.  It is not always easy to know when to speak out and when to keep silent, when to jump in and when to stand apart. Jesus had a sense of clarity about right and wrong that came from his relationship with God and his life of prayer. Our task is to learn what it means to be in the world but not of the world, to find the right balance for us, to resist being pulled too far in one direction or another, to allow a life of prayer to inform a life of action, to assure us that resisting conformity is the way of Christ.

It is not easy to distinguish when we are being led by good intentions or being led by the Spirit, to know when we are chasing our own ideals or being informed by the gospel, to understand when we are seeking our own glory and not the glory of God. 

Merton recognised these difficulties in a letter he wrote to a young activist who sought his advice. He wrote: “The great thing after all is to live, not to pour out your life in the service of a myth: and we turn the best things into myths. If you can get free from the domination of causes and just serve the truth, you will be able to do more and will be less crushed by the inevitable disappointments. Because I see nothing whatever in sight but much disappointment, frustration, and confusion. 

The real hope, then, is not something we think we can do, but in God who is making something good out of it in some way we cannot see. If we can do (what’s right), we will be helping in this process. But we will not necessarily know all about it beforehand….”[2]

Jesus prays that God will send us into the world as he, Jesus, was sent into the world. May we be the answer to that prayer, willing to take the risk of being God’s agents, being change-makers in whatever circumstances we find ourselves, driven by the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.


[1] Some believed that he was assassinated because of his opposition to the Vietnam War.

[2] https://thewire.in/society/thomas-mertons-letter-to-a-young-activist-speaks-to-our-times-as-well

Abiding in the vine

May 3, 2024

Easter 5 – 2024

John 15:9-17 (some thoughts from Brazil)

Marian Free

 

In the name of God whose love connects us to each other and to God. Amen.

To my shame and embarrassment, I am guilty of being someone who, in the mid to late1970’s, felt that that the life of the church would be much improved if we got rid of the ‘dead wood’. It is a long time ago, but it was a time when there was a widely held opinion that the church community needed to take itself and its commitment to the gospel more seriously. One of the major institutional changes at that time was an insistence that those seeking baptism for their children should be practicing church-goers, that they should undergo preparation for said baptism (to make sure that they really understood what they were doing) and that the sacrament of Baptism should only be administered in the context of a service of Holy Communion (when the whole community were gathered to welcome the child into their midst).

The zeitgeist of the time seemed to be that for many people their association with the church was social, sentimental, or historic and that the task of the church was to place such a focus on regular church attendance and faith development, that the church would consist of those who truly took their faith seriously (and that it would therefore grow).

Sadly, those well-meaning attempts by self-righteous people backfired. Instead of encouraging families seeking baptism to deepen their faith, attempts to get people to take the sacrament seriously had the consequence of turning them away from the church. They were were confused and hurt to realise that a church which had once encouraged baptism (no strings attached) was now putting up barriers designed to exclude them. Our emptying churches are testimony that to the effect that our efforts were fruitless.

Thankfully while I was guilty of joining the discussion about dead wood, I was in no position to exclude or to shame others who were not as enthusiastic about their church attendance and not as keen to be on endless committees as were the committed few. As a newly ordained person I understood that those seeking baptism for their children had a genuine desire to connect their child to the faith and I came to the realisation that it was God’s sacrament not mine and that my role was to accept that people came to God in their own way and did not have to fulfill my, or anyone else’s, expectations.

As I grew into ministry, (in other words, as my experience broadened), I came to see that there were many ways in which people connected to the church and that my own practice of weekly attendance was only one way of demonstrating a desire to be a part of the Christian community.

I observed the men who faithfully mowed lawns and kept the church grounds neat – but never darkened the doors of the church, the Guild members who ensured that there was always enough money for candles, linen, bread and wine – but who for one reason or another did not attend the Sunday service,  and the families who ‘religiously’ turned up at Christmas and Easter – but who at other times were nowhere to be seen. All were demonstrating a desire to being connected – albeit in different ways.

In the faithful observance of these people, I learned a valuable lesson – that the Christian community does not have a sacred centre to which everyone must belong. Rather it consists of concentric circles, widening out from the centre like ripples in a pond. Each circle contributes to the whole in its own way. No one circle is more important, more holy than other. Together they present the face of Christ in the world.

Jesus’ image of the vine seems to support this point of view. Staying connected to the vine, keeping Jesus’ commandments, and a willingness, if called on, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends are all that one needs to do to bear much fruit, to ensure that Jesus’ joy is complete, and to know his joy in us.

Bearing fruit doesn’t depend on and having joy doesn’t consist of following neatly laid out prescriptions – attending church very Sunday, volunteering for the church fete (or other extraneous activity) or joining one or several committees. The all-important task for any of us is to be connected to the vine, to abide in Jesus and to allow Jesus to abide in us. If we do that, all else will follow.

 We don’t have to establish criteria for belonging. We don’t have to set ourselves up as judge and jury of the depth of another’s faith. Our task is to make (and tend) our own connection to Christ and trust that that is enough.

True leadership – the Good Shepherd

April 19, 2024

Easter 4 – 2024

John 10:11-18

Marian Free

In the name of God who gives us life in abundance. Amen.

Over familiarity with anything – be it food, a certain style of literature, even scripture – can strip it of its power to satisfy and to surprise. Such could be said of today’s reading from John chapter 10 with its cosy imagery of the shepherd who will put his own life on the line to protect the sheep (us) from the intruder. Many of us of will have grown up with illustrations of low dry-stone sheepfolds with a gap through which the sheep can go in and out. Our Sunday school teachers will have told us that because there was no physical gate the shepherd will have slept in that space so that, should an intruder or wild beast try to enter, he would immediately awake and protect the sheep. 

There is nothing particularly wrong with this image, and it certainly fits with images of shepherding that we find in the Old Testament, especially in Psalm 23 and Ezekiel 34. However, when we place the reading in the context of John’s gospel as a whole we can see that it plays quite a different role.

At first glance the image of a shepherd does not neatly follow the healing of the blind man in chapter 9. It is only when we read verse 10:21 that we realise that the shepherd imagery is Jesus’ discourse on the events of chapter 9 in which Jesus heals a man born blind.  ‘Again the Jews were divided because of these words. Many of them were saying, “He has a demon and is out of his mind. Why listen to him?”  Others were saying, “These are not the words of one who has a demon. Can a demon open the eyes of the blind?”’  Chapter 9:1-10-21 is of a piece. The Shepherd imagery is not an interruption of Jesus’ thought, but an integral part of the narrative.

You will remember that, like the Synoptic gospels, John’s is carefully, though differently crafted. One of John’s techniques is that of the discourse, a question (Nicodemus), an encounter (the woman at the well) or an event (the feeding of the 5,000) becomes an opportunity for Jesus to have a dialogue with someone and then to speak at length on a particular topic. In this case Jesus’ comments in the first half of chapter 10 are a continuation of his commentary on Pharisees’ reaction to the sign (healing of a man born blind) in chapter 9. The Pharisees’ resistance to healing and wholeness, reveals that they are not the shepherds they claim to be. The openness of the man born blind enables him to hear Jesus’ voice and to become one of Jesus’ flock.

So, what does a discourse on the Good Shepherd (and the gate for the sheep) have to do with healing a man born blind? 

I’ll try to explain what I think is going on here. In the first instance, it is clear that the story of the healing of the blind man is more than a simple healing story.  It is really an account of someone gaining spiritual insight – as to the nature and role of Jesus – compared with those who though not physically blind cannot see Jesus for whom he is. 

The man born blind has absolutely no idea who healed him. When he is being harassed by the Pharisees he declares Jesus to be a prophet and finally, when he meets and sees Jesus and Jesus reveals that he is the Son of Man he professes faith in the Son of Man and worships Jesus. In contrast the Pharisees, whose antagonism to Jesus runs throughout this section, declare Jesus to be a sinner and thus reveal their intransigent spiritual blindness (not to mention their self-interestedness).

When the Pharisees try to defend themselves, Jesus points out that it is their belief that they can see that identifies them as sinners. Then, without taking breath, Jesus launches into his discourse on the sheepfold and the shepherd which suggests that rather than being metaphors intended to comfort the faithful, they are an exposè of the leadership style of and an attack on the Pharisees. This section which began in 9:1 comes to an end in 10-19-21 in which the narrative returns to the question as to who Jesus is which has been the undercurrent throughout the entire narrative[1].

Using the metaphors of the sheepfold and of the shepherd (familiar images leadership from the Old Testament), Jesus implies that the Pharisees are the thief and bandit, who do not enter by the gate and whom the sheep (in this instance the man born blind) do not follow. 

At the end of the first part of the discourse Jesus asserts: ”I have come that they might have life and have it abundantly.”  In contrast “the thief comes only to kill and destroy.” This statement leads nicely into Jesus raising of Lazarus which occurs in the following chapter. The contrast with the Pharisees, is clear. For all kinds of reasons, they are unable to rejoice with the man born blind, they would rather that he remain blind, that he continued dependent on others living some sort of half-life. They refuse to believe that Jesus is anything but a sinner, insisting that he has a demon.

Jesus is not finished. Not only has he come to give the life that the Pharisees are withholding, he states that he will give his own life so that the sheep might live. The Pharisees’ reaction to the healing and to Jesus reveals them as the hired hands. They are not interested in the well-being of the sheep, but only in protecting their notion of law and of shoring up their position in the community.

The pastoral imagery of a shepherd who puts the sheep before himself is comforting and assuring, but it is important that we do not forget the debate that lies behind it. What exemplifies good leadership? and How do we recognise one sent by God? 

As millions of people around the world go to the polls this year these issues may prove to be as important now as they ever have been.


[1] I have been told that John writes in the style of a Hebrew writer – that is in a circular fashion. He circles back on themes introduced earlier. So, for example, we can take this narrative back to chapter 8 where the Pharisees declare that Jesus has a demon the same accusation that is made at the end of the section 10:21.

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” –