Archive for the ‘Lent’ Category

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.

Let God be God (first prediction of suffering)

February 27, 2024

Lent 2 – 2024

Mark 8:31-38

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who unsettles and confuses us.  Amen.

 

Poor Peter! Only moments before today’s scenario, Peter has identified Jesus as the Christ and now Jesus is accusing him of being Satan! Harsh words indeed.

 The problem is that Peter has a preconceived idea of what the Christ should be and whatever that idea is, it doesn’t involve God’s chosen suffering and dying at the hands of the religious leaders. It is easy to judge Peter – how could he not know what was to happen to Jesus? We forget that there is much that is hidden from our 21st century eyes and we don’t realise that our vision is clouded because we know the end of the story. We know that Jesus rose from the dead and we know that the resurrection and the giving of the Holy Spirit led to the spreading of the gospel.

It is obvious to us that Jesus should suffer and die, because that is what did happen. But imagine what it was like for the first disciples. They lived under oppressive Roman rule, their lives were governed by taxes on everything from the roads, to fishing, to their catch of fish. The might of Rome was impossible to resist. Indeed, those who resisted were put to death by crucifixion. Thousands of Galileans has been crucified for insurrection – their crosses lining the roads so that everyone might learn what it meant to take on the Empire. That is the political climate in which the disciples lived, but there was also the culture of faith in which they were raised. They may not have been regular attendees at the synagogue, but they would certainly have absorbed the teachings, customs and expectations of Judaism. Based on the OT and on the traditions that had built up over time, they would have shared with their fellow-believers a hope that God would send a Saviour figure.

 Unfortunately, we cannot be 100% sure just what made up those expectations were. The only writings that are contemporaneous with the life of Jesus are the Dead Sea Scrolls which represent a small fraction of. the Jewish population. Our ideas about are clouded by  NT interpretations which were designed to make sense of the events of Jesus’ life – that is, they were written in hindsight on the basis of their conviction that Jesus was “the one” sent by God. A reading of the OT and of the intertestamental literature reveals that there was not one, but a number of different expectations. What they have in common is a conviction that God would send someone to save Israel (from their sins or from the Romans.) The central figure of those expectations was variously a King, a warrior, or a priest.

What no one seems to have expected was a humble, travelling teacher from Galilee – certainly not someone born in obscurity, who critiqued the religion and who allowed himself to be arrested and to die. After all what good is a defeated, dead Messiah?

It is easy to sympathize with Peter. Peter has just identified Jesus as the Christ (Messiah) – and Jesus’ response has indicated that Peter is right. Yet barely has this interaction concluded when Jesus announces that “the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.” Peter must have been shaken to his core. Nothing in his past experience or his faith journey has prepared for a suffering Christ, let alone a Christ who dies (without achieving the defeat of Rome, or the restoration of the faith of Israel.)

 What Jesus has said would have made no sense to Peter or to the other disciples. Why would God send the Christ only to have him suffer and die? Of what value would that have been for those who have waited for generations for God to send someone to save them? Of course, we can see that Jesus announces his death in connection with his resurrection, but the notion of someone rising from the dead would have been well beyond Peter’s imagining as would the thought that one person’s dying and rising would make a difference on a grand scale.

 Unlike us, Peter has no idea where the story might end. So, flush with his newfound confidence that he has recognised Jesus as the Christ, Peter no doubt felt emboldened to take Jesus aside and rebuke him.After all what Jesus has said makes no sense at all. Jesus must be mistaken, Peter knew the expected trajectory of a triumphant Saviour and Jesus’ death was not part of it!

Peter’s problem, and ours, is that we think we know what God wants and how God will respond which is why Jesus didn’t measure up to the expectations of people – because they were human expectations not God’s plan. Jesus was not believed because his ideas were too radical, because he refused to judge ‘sinners’ but was happy to critique the self-righteous, and because he had no formal authority in the church structure.

 If we do not want to make Peter’s mistake, if we don’t want to be on the side of Satan rather than on the side of God, we must free ourselves of all our preconceptions, let go of all our expectations, open our minds to the unknown and, above all, we must let God be God (not our version of God).  

40 days in the wilderness with Mark

February 17, 2024

Lent 1 – 2024

Mark 1:9-15

Marian Free

In the name of God whose love is our beginning and our end. Amen.

I wonder, if we only had Mark’s account of Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness would our practice of Lent any different? Mark simply tells us: “The Spirit immediately drove him out (literally cast him out) into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.”  There is no mention here of fasting, no reference to Jesus being famished and no elaboration of the temptations. It is Matthew and Luke who fill out the story with details of three specific temptations and of Jesus being hungry.  Interestingly – in their accounts there is no record of wild animals and no reference to the angels ministering to Jesus.

We know from the gospels that fasting was a spiritual practice among the Pharisees in the time of Jesus, but in Mark’s gospel there is no evidence that Jesus himself fasts. In fact, Jesus is asked why his disciples do notfast when the disciples of John the Baptist and the Pharisees fast (Mark 2:18). Jesus may or may not have fasted.

The earliest Christians did fast. Possibly following the tradition of the Pharisees, the first believers fasted on a weekly basis though – as the first century document the Didache makes clear – they were to distinguish themselves from the hypocrites – presumably the Pharisees. In that document, we read that the community should not fast on the days that the hypocrites fast (the second and fifth days of the week,) but on the fourth day and on the day of preparation (Friday). That fasting was an accepted spiritual discipline among Christians by the second century is recorded in a letter written by Irenaeus bemoaning the fact that there was no common practice and that the discipline varied from one day of fasting to as many as 40 days.

Fasting for the forty days before Easter can be traced to the Council of Nicea in 325 CE which formalised the custom – possibly as a way to prepare for baptism. It took much longer for there to be a common practice throughout Christendom. Some places allowed the Lenten fast to be broken on Sundays, others not. Some only fasted from Monday to Friday, meaning that the 40 day fast took place over 8 weeks. In general, meat, fish and dairy were forbidden, as was consuming food before 3pm. During the reign of Pope Gregory the Great, the season of Lent was regularised. It was to begin 46 days before Lent, with a ceremony of ash. Sundays were excluded. During the 9th century the strictures were relaxed somewhat and by the 1800’s the emphasis on one meal a day was relaxed. Traditions and practices continue to evolve, but we maintain the practice established in the seventh century – Ash Wednesday to Easter Day, excluding Sundays.

To return to where I began, if we only had Mark’s gospel I wonder if it would make a difference to our Lenten observance?

It seems to me that there are four parts to Jesus’ experience as reported by Mark. First, we are told that Jesus was cast out, or thrown out into the wilderness. In other words, Jesus allowed himself to be tossed about by the Spirit. He didn’t fight the Spirit’s leading, no matter how uncomfortable it made him, or how unpleasant it seemed. Second, in the wilderness Jesus was tempted by Satan. Mark doesn’t elaborate on this point, but his gospel depicts a power play between Satan and God. Jesus now (and throughout his ministry) resists the temptation to rely on anything and anyone but God. 

Third, and this is perhaps the most difficult to make sense of – Jesus was with the wild animals. There is no suggestion that Jesus is in any kind of danger here so perhaps Mark means us to understand that in the wilderness Jesus identified himself wholly with all of God’s creation – the creation with whom God has made a covenant (as the reading from Genesis tells us (Gen 9:8-10)).[1]

Finally, Mark tells us that Jesus was ministered to by the angels. Out there in wilderness Jesus allowed God’s representatives to care for him. He didn’t need to assert his independence and he didn’t need to prove how strong-willed he was because he knew that God would take care of everything. 

What might this reading of Mark mean for us and for our observance of the 40 days before Easter?

In the first instance, we might allow Mark’s account re-frame the way that we see the season. Instead of seeing Lent as a time of penance and self-sacrifice, we might grasp opportunity to allow ourselves to be led by (tossed about by) the Spirit – as terrifying as that might be. 

In a world which places a premium on independence and self-reliance, we could learn to serve not ourselves (Satan), but God.  

In a world in which we have used the earth for our benefit and for which we are now paying the price, we might take a page out of Jesus’ experience in the wilderness and understand that we are part of, not apart from all creation, that working with and not against creation will be better for us and lead to the healing of the world.  

And finally, and for some of us the most difficult, we might use these 40 days to truly allow ourselves to trust in God’s unbounding love for us, accept that we are worthy of that love and in so doing permit the angels themselves to care for us. 

Mark’s account of Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness frees us to let go of any striving to be good, encourages us to abandon our attempts to punish ourselves for our shortcomings and allows us to stop using self-denial to prove how strong or how disciplined we are. It enables us to understand that Lent is less about what we do for God, and more about what we let God do to and with us. 

Our Lenten observances are based on the scriptures and moulded by centuries of tradition – that doesn’t prevent us from looking at it anew and seeing what Mark has to teach us. 

This Lent – Are we willing for the Spirit to toss us about? Can we let go our need to rely on ourselves? Do we understand that we are integrally related with all creation? And, can we accept that we are entirely worthy of God’s love?


[1] This is the suggestion of Dr Margaret Wesley who draws on today’s reading from Genesis to the effect that God has made a covenant with all creation.

A matter of time – the raising of Lazarus

March 25, 2023

Lent 5 – 2023
John 11:1-45
Marian Free

In the name of God who brought from nothing all that is, and who raises the dead to newness of life. Amen.

Time is an extraordinary concept. Even though years, months, days, and hours are determined by the sun and the moon, time is still an arbitrary and human-conceived construct. Though it appears to us that time is relatively fixed – an hour is always sixty minutes each of which is always sixty seconds – our experience of time varies according to the situation in which we find ourselves. A variety of factors mean that sometimes time seems to fly, whereas on other occasions we might feel that time passes ever so slowly. When we are really enjoying ourselves there does not seem to be enough time, yet when we are lying awake at night, time seems to stretch out unbearably .

Time is a key to this morning’s gospel. When Jesus receives the message that Lazarus (the one whom he loves) is ill he declares that the situation is not urgent and, instead of rushing to his friend’s side, he remains where he is for two more days. Sometime later, when Jesus and his entourage finally arrive at Bethany Lazarus has already been dead for four days. Again, time is the focus of the story. Martha and Mary both berate Jesus for not having come sooner: “If you had been here, my brother would not have died” they say. They believe that if only Jesus had arrived sooner, the outcome for Lazarus would have been quite different – a position held by some of the crowd, and almost certainly by ourselves the readers.

Jesus’ disciples, his friends and the crowd are focussed on earthly realities – Lazarus’ illness, Jesus’ delay, (his apparent lack of concern), the dangers of the journey, and Jesus’ failure to meet their expectations.

On the other hand, as John recounts the events, Jesus’ attitude to the situation is quite different. Unlike the other characters in the story Jesus is as much concerned with theological ideas as he is with practical issues . He is as much preoccupied with the meaning of events as he is with the events themselves. In other words, Jesus is less concerned with specifics because he can see the broader picture. Time is irrelevant to him because Jesus is able to view the situation through the eyes of God. This is why John’s account is interspersed with theological commentary.

Jesus wants the disciples (the readers) to see as he sees. So, when he hears that Lazarus is ill, Jesus delays. He explains to the disciples that there is no need to hurry because Lazarus’ illness will lead to the glorification of the Son of Man. Then, when the disciples caution him about going to Jerusalem, Jesus responds enigmatically. The dangers that they might face are irrelevant because God’s time is different from earthly time and those who “walk in the daylight will not stumble.” Finally, Martha’s distress at Jesus’ delay provides an opportunity for Jesus to teach about the resurrection (and indirectly is an occasion for Martha to declare Jesus’ true identity.)

For Martha and Mary (as it is for us) time is of the essence. They know what Jesus can do and are disappointed that Jesus did not respond to their need in the way that they had expected. Crudely put, in their grief, they are obsessed with their own concerns, their own agenda. They wish that they could have bent Jesus to their will, that he had come when they wanted, that he would have behaved as they would have had him behave.

Even when Jesus does come, they are unwilling to cede control of the situation. They believe that Jesus could have prevented Lazarus from dying but are not convinced that he can do anything now that Lazarus is dead.

Jesus however refuses to be limited and defined by their narrow (even selfish) expectations. It is not that he is without compassion, that he doesn’t care what happens to Lazarus. (We are told that he was greatly disturbed and deeply moved and even that he wept.) His agenda is different, as is his sense of urgency. He knows or at least senses what awaits him in Jerusalem, he knows what must occur before then, he knows that ultimately he is responsible to God (not his friends) and that his life will be determined by God’s timetable (not his own). So, even though Jesus loved Lazarus, Lazarus’ illness was not sufficient to sway him from his course. His actions will not be dictated to by human concerns, but only by the will of God.

While the miracle of the raising of Lazarus is significant, it is perhaps Jesus’ commentary on time that is more important for our own age. Like the characters in the story, we place expectations on God. We want things to happen according to our schedule. We are focussed on our own needs and we are disappointed when God doesn’t respond as we had hoped God would.

John’s account of the raising of Lazarus, is a reminder that (apparent) inaction is not an indication that God doesn’t care – after all Jesus’ wept – rather it is a reminder that God’s ways are not our ways (Is 55:8,9) and that: “with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day” (2 Peter 3:8, Ps. 90:4). Ultimately, we like Jesus must place ourselves entirely in God’s hands, because we cannot (and should not) try to bend God to our will or to make God conform to our expectations.

Opening the eyes of the blind

March 18, 2023

Lent 4 – 2023
John 9:1-41
Marian Free


In the name of God, whose presence can only be seen by those whose hearts and eyes are open. Amen.

If the COVID pandemic taught us nothing else, it revealed that sometimes no amount of scientific evidence was sufficient to convince some people that vaccination and the wearing of masks were for their own protection and safety and were not a sign that the state was taking over their lives. Some people were so unwilling to give up their position that families were, and remain, divided. Not even stories of agonising and lonely deaths, or reports of exhausted health care workers were enough to shake their position. They were (are) so committed to one version of truth that they were unable to see (or to allow for) any other. It is clear that I belong to the group who were grateful to a government that had the well-being of its citizens at heart, and to the researchers who so quickly developed a vaccine that, if it didn’t keep me well, would at least prevent the virus from killing me. As the various protests indicated, there were a significant number of people who resisted change because they could not see or believe the danger that it presented to themselves, and to others.

Our gospel for today presents a similar situation – though perhaps in reverse. In the case of the gospel, it was good news, not bad, that was both opposed and rejected. In the gospel, it was the leaders who resisted change and novelty, and who saw it as a threat to their position and to their authority. The Pharisees and the Judeans were so stuck in their legalistic view of faith and so convinced that God demanded conformity to particular behaviours, that even the miracle of sight could not budge them from their position that breaking the law was dangerous and perverse. They (or their predecessors) had constructed a world view that enabled them to feel safe and secure in their relationship with God, but which prevented them from seeing God in any other way. For them to feel safe, their life, and their practice of their faith had to remain stable and unchanged – hard and unforgiving as the ground in the poem by Israeli poet, Yehuda Amichai which seems to speak to the heart of today’s gospel.

‘The Place Where We Are Right”
From the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.


The place where we are right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.


But doubts and loves
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.

In their desire to have a roadmap for salvation, to have clear precepts and laws that gave them reassurance that they were doing what it was that God wanted, Jesus’ opponents have solidified the commandments into hard and fast rules. Breaking those rules was seen to have serious consequences – not least of which was the law-breakers’ being excluded from the community of faith. The “law breaker” was deemed to have threatened the security of the community as a whole and therefore needed to be removed. The problem with holding this hard and fast position, was the conviction that God (fixed and unchanging) could be known and that God – arbiter of all behaviour – would judge as unworthy those who did not conform. There was no room for growth or development in that view of faith, no sense of wonder, no allowance for the possibility that God might act in new ways, or that, as God has done in the past, so in the present God might break through and reveal Godself in startling and fresh ways. The ground of ‘faith’ had been trampled and made so hard that new life could not possibly break through.

For those who had found security and certainty in a particular set of beliefs (truths), the thought of examining or questioning those beliefs was terrifying. What if they were proved to be wrong? If they let go of one “truth” would the whole structure on which they have built their faith be shattered? On the other hand, if they were right and yet were tempted to rejoice in Jesus’ bringing of sight, would God’s wrath be poured out upon them because they had dared to question what had always been? It was safer to hold on to what they had always believed (and to force others to do likewise), than to risk the possibility that they might have been wrong. In their desire to maintain the status quo, they needed to reject and discredit anything that threatened their way of seeing the world and God.

This explains why, in today’s gospel, no one – not even the blind man’s parents – was able to rejoice in the fact that his sight had been restored. They were terrified that their whole world would come tumbling down and with it their sense of security and (in the case of the Pharisees) their claim to authority. They were determined to hold on to what they had held to be true – that one should not work on the Sabbath – even if the alternative was life-giving and restorative. They were blind to the possibility that the giving of sight was a gift from God, and that the giver, Jesus was not a sinner but a bearer of God’s likeness.


Truth is a key concept in John’s gospel. We are told that: “The Word became flesh, full of grace and truth” (1:14). And: “You will know the truth and the truth will set you free” (8:32). We have seen that Jesus challenged Nicodemus to be open to rebirth. He questioned the version of truth held by the Samaritan woman and here he opens the eyes of the blind man so that he might accept a new version of reality.


Let us pray that we may not be so locked into our own understanding of what is true, that we, like the Pharisees are blinded to God’s presence among us – even when that presence is totally different from what we had expected. May we create a yard in which flowers may grow in the spring.

From the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.


The place where we are right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.


But doubts and loves
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.

Breaking boundaries- Jesus at the well

March 11, 2023

It is usually trivial matters that keep us apart. Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well challenges us to ask:

What “truths” do we hold on to that limit, separate and divide?

In what ways do we deny other full expression of their humanity?

Are we guilty of excluding from full participation to the community of faith or to the sacraments – baptism, Eucharist, marriage – those who do not fit our prescriptive norms?

 

Can we, like Jesus, to see beyond the external, to the superficial specifics, to the broader, deeper, more significant, shared faith in the one true God?

 

 

Lent 3 -2023

Luke 4:5-42

Marian Free

 

In the name of God for whom there are no boundaries, who sees and loves us just as we are. Amen.

 

Last week was International Pride Week – a whole week dedicated to celebrating the lives of all who do not fit the heteronormative profile.  It was an opportunity for members of the LGBTQI+ community to celebrate who they are and for the rest of us to celebrate the diversity of humanity. Community reaction was, by and large positive. Two things stood out for me. I had heard that the Uniting Church in Pitt St Sydney had painted their steps in the colours of the rainbow and had made it clear that theirs was a welcoming and inclusive church. Sadly some, unable to accept or tolerate difference, defaced the steps with grey paint[1]. In complete contrast, the Coles Supermarket chain used their free magazine to celebrate Pride week (with rainbow themed recipes) and to shine a light on the diversity and inclusiveness of their workforce.

 

While the wider population have come to a point where they can recognize the value of all people regardless of their gender identity, there are many (represented by our paint throwers) who want to judge, to draw boundaries and to exclude those who don’t fit their idea of who and what is acceptable.

 

Today’s gospel speaks to the issue of boundaries and in particular to the way in which Jesus ignored or defied boundaries which to him were arbitrary, unnecessary and even irrelevant when it came to the bigger picture of worshipping God. Jesus constantly caused offense by acknowledging, befriending and uplifting those whom his own community would exclude – lepers, sinners, prostitutes, tax-collectors, and even those with whom is own community is in serious conflict – the Samaritans.

 

Following on from Jesus’ discussion with Nicodemus, John continues his story of Jesus with another encounter (the Samaritan woman), another opportunity to demonstrate the way in which Jesus introduces a puzzle (never thirst again) which provokes his conversation partner to question what he has said (are you greater than our father Jacob?). This in turn provides an opportunity for Jesus to elaborate, to develop the idea of living water and to build on the faith which he and the woman share. Through the process of discussion and discourse Jesus’ dialogue partner (the woman) comes to a deeper understanding and, in this instance, to faith and to proclamation.  

 

According to the gospel account, Jesus, having been in Jerusalem for Passover, is returning to Galilee. The quickest way to do this is to travel through Samaria – something which most Jews would avoid.  Tensions between the two groups of people were high and Jesus could not be certain of safe passage. The Samaritans were perhaps the worst kind of enemies – those who with whom the Jews had most in common, but with whom they disagreed on what to us are trivial matters – the date of Passover and the mountain on which Yahweh. That they had the same law and observed many of the same customs only made the differences between them more obvious and the tensions more extreme. They were competing for what they believed to be the truth[2] – the stakes could not be higher.

 

When Jesus asked the woman (a complete stranger) for a drink, he was overlooking centuries of enmity and more astounding, he was revealing his vulnerability – he needed help, the woman was in a position to give it. Immediately, he breaks down any reservations the woman might have. Though he is a Jew, he is vulnerable. He is not a threat.

 

In engaging the woman Jesus saw beyond her gender, ethnicity, religion and marital status to that which they had in common – faith in God and a longing for the kingdom to be restored. In the face of their shared faith, all other barriers dissolved. Instead of seeing difference Jesus saw what they shared, perhaps more importantly he recognised the woman’s spiritual thirst – a thirst he could slake. He saw too, that the woman needed help to move beyond the superficial observance of faith to a deeper, more personal relationship with God. In order to do this, Jesus began the conversation with a conundrum, piquing her interest and drawing her into discussion. The woman responded with what she knew, the visible and practical -whose well and which is the correct mountain on which to worship.  Jesus moved her beyond these trivial and earthly details (details which separate and divide), to what really mattered – the spiritual worship of the God in whom they both believe.

 

Instead of accentuating difference, or asking the woman (and her community) to conform to the Jewish practice of the faith, Jesus looked beyond the detail to the bigger picture – the faith that they shared – faith in the one true God. Instead of criticizing and condemning the Samaritan practice of faith, Jesus affirmed their faithfulness and shared with them the message that he had for all people. As a result, he broke the walls of enmity and with the help of the woman drew all her neighbours into a new, renewed relationship with God

 

Jesus’ conversation with the Samaritan woman (the longest recorded conversation that he has with anyone) shines a light on our own pettiness, our concern with details (rather than the big picture), our tendency to see difference rather than commonality and our willingness to judge and exclude those who hold a view other than our own.

 

Jesus was not concerned to know whether the Samaritan woman was rich or poor, promiscuous or chaste, Samaritan or Jew. He didn’t want to change or “fix” her. He saw beyond the outward appearance of social isolation and shame, to their shared faith and their shared longing and it was to her, a woman of Samaria, that he first revealed himself to be the Messiah.

 

It is usually trivial matters that keep us apart. Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well challenges us to ask:

 

What “truths” do we hold on to that limit, separate and divide?

In what ways do we deny other full expression of their humanity?

Are we guilty of excluding from full participation to the community of faith or to the sacraments – baptism, Eucharist, marriage – those who do not fit our prescriptive norms?

 

Can we, like Jesus, to see beyond the external, to the superficial specifics, to the broader, deeper, more significant, shared faith in the one true God?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.

 


[1] The rainbow was repainted.

[2] Similar differences – the date of Easter, and how to shave one’s head – were among the reasons that the church originally divided – into East and west.

Lent 3 -2023
Luke 4:5-42
Marian Free

In the name of God for whom there are no boundaries, who sees and loves us just as we are. Amen.

Last week was International Pride Week – a whole week dedicated to celebrating the lives of all who do not fit the heteronormative profile. It was an opportunity for members of the LGBTQI+ community to celebrate who they are and for the rest of us to celebrate the diversity of humanity. Community reaction was, by and large positive. Two things stood out for me. I had heard that the Uniting Church in Pitt St Sydney had painted their steps in the colours of the rainbow and had made it clear that theirs was a welcoming and inclusive church. Sadly some, unable to accept or tolerate difference, defaced the steps with grey paint . In complete contrast, the Coles Supermarket chain used their free magazine to celebrate Pride week (with rainbow themed recipes) and to shine a light on the diversity and inclusiveness of their workforce.

While the wider population have come to a point where they can recognize the value of all people regardless of their gender identity, there are many (represented by our paint throwers) who want to judge, to draw boundaries and to exclude those who don’t fit their idea of who and what is acceptable.

Today’s gospel speaks to the issue of boundaries and in particular to the way in which Jesus ignored or defied boundaries which to him were arbitrary, unnecessary and even irrelevant when it came to the bigger picture of worshipping God. Jesus constantly caused offense by acknowledging, befriending and uplifting those whom his own community would exclude – lepers, sinners, prostitutes, tax-collectors, and even those with whom is own community is in serious conflict – the Samaritans.

Following on from Jesus’ discussion with Nicodemus, John continues his story of Jesus with another encounter (the Samaritan woman), another opportunity to demonstrate the way in which Jesus introduces a puzzle (never thirst again) which provokes his conversation partner to question what he has said (are you greater than our father Jacob?). This in turn provides an opportunity for Jesus to elaborate, to develop the idea of living water and to build on the faith which he and the woman share. Through the process of discussion and discourse Jesus’ dialogue partner (the woman) comes to a deeper understanding and, in this instance, to faith and to proclamation.

According to the gospel account, Jesus, having been in Jerusalem for Passover, is returning to Galilee. The quickest way to do this is to travel through Samaria – something which most Jews would avoid. Tensions between the two groups of people were high and Jesus could not be certain of safe passage. The Samaritans were perhaps the worst kind of enemies – those who with whom the Jews had most in common, but with whom they disagreed on what to us are trivial matters – the date of Passover and the mountain on which Yahweh. That they had the same law and observed many of the same customs only made the differences between them more obvious and the tensions more extreme. They were competing for what they believed to be the truth – the stakes could not be higher.

When Jesus asked the woman (a complete stranger) for a drink, he was overlooking centuries of enmity and more astounding, he was revealing his vulnerability – he needed help, the woman was in a position to give it. Immediately, he breaks down any reservations the woman might have. Though he is a Jew, he is vulnerable. He is not a threat.

In engaging the woman Jesus saw beyond her gender, ethnicity, religion and marital status to that which they had in common – faith in God and a longing for the kingdom to be restored. In the face of their shared faith, all other barriers dissolved. Instead of seeing difference Jesus saw what they shared, perhaps more importantly he recognised the woman’s spiritual thirst – a thirst he could slake. He saw too, that the woman needed help to move beyond the superficial observance of faith to a deeper, more personal relationship with God. In order to do this, Jesus began the conversation with a conundrum, piquing her interest and drawing her into discussion. The woman responded with what she knew, the visible and practical -whose well and which is the correct mountain on which to worship. Jesus moved her beyond these trivial and earthly details (details which separate and divide), to what really mattered – the spiritual worship of the God in whom they both believe.

Instead of accentuating difference, or asking the woman (and her community) to conform to the Jewish practice of the faith, Jesus looked beyond the detail to the bigger picture – the faith that they shared – faith in the one true God. Instead of criticizing and condemning the Samaritan practice of faith, Jesus affirmed their faithfulness and shared with them the message that he had for all people. As a result, he broke the walls of enmity and with the help of the woman drew all her neighbours into a new, renewed relationship with God

Jesus’ conversation with the Samaritan woman (the longest recorded conversation that he has with anyone) shines a light on our own pettiness, our concern with details (rather than the big picture), our tendency to see difference rather than commonality and our willingness to judge and exclude those who hold a view other than our own.

Jesus was not concerned to know whether the Samaritan woman was rich or poor, promiscuous or chaste, Samaritan or Jew. He didn’t want to change or “fix” her. He saw beyond the outward appearance of social isolation and shame, to their shared faith and their shared longing and it was to her, a woman of Samaria, that he first revealed himself to be the Messiah.

It is usually trivial matters that keep us apart. Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well challenges us to ask:

What “truths” do we hold on to that limit, separate and divide?
In what ways do we deny other full expression of their humanity?
Are we guilty of excluding from full participation to the community of faith or to the sacraments – baptism, Eucharist, marriage – those who do not fit our prescriptive norms?

Can we, like Jesus, to see beyond the external, to the superficial specifics, to the broader, deeper, more significant, shared faith in the one true God?

.

Breaking boundaries- Jesus at the well

March 11, 2023

 

Lent 3 -2023

Luke 4:5-42

Marian Free

 

In the name of God for whom there are no boundaries, who sees and loves us just as we are. Amen.

 

Last week was International Pride Week – a whole week dedicated to celebrating the lives of all who do not fit the heteronormative profile.  It was an opportunity for members of the LGBTQI+ community to celebrate who they are and for the rest of us to celebrate the diversity of humanity. Community reaction was, by and large positive. Two things stood out for me. I had heard that the Uniting Church in Pitt St Sydney had painted their steps in the colours of the rainbow and had made it clear that theirs was a welcoming and inclusive church. Sadly some, unable to accept or tolerate difference, defaced the steps with grey paint[1]. In complete contrast, the Coles Supermarket chain used their free magazine to celebrate Pride week (with rainbow themed recipes) and to shine a light on the diversity and inclusiveness of their workforce.

 

While the wider population have come to a point where they can recognize the value of all people regardless of their gender identity, there are many (represented by our paint throwers) who want to judge, to draw boundaries and to exclude those who don’t fit their idea of who and what is acceptable.

 

Today’s gospel speaks to the issue of boundaries and in particular to the way in which Jesus ignored or defied boundaries which to him were arbitrary, unnecessary and even irrelevant when it came to the bigger picture of worshipping God. Jesus constantly caused offense by acknowledging, befriending and uplifting those whom his own community would exclude – lepers, sinners, prostitutes, tax-collectors, and even those with whom is own community is in serious conflict – the Samaritans.

 

Following on from Jesus’ discussion with Nicodemus, John continues his story of Jesus with another encounter (the Samaritan woman), another opportunity to demonstrate the way in which Jesus introduces a puzzle (never thirst again) which provokes his conversation partner to question what he has said (are you greater than our father Jacob?). This in turn provides an opportunity for Jesus to elaborate, to develop the idea of living water and to build on the faith which he and the woman share. Through the process of discussion and discourse Jesus’ dialogue partner (the woman) comes to a deeper understanding and, in this instance, to faith and to proclamation.  

 

According to the gospel account, Jesus, having been in Jerusalem for Passover, is returning to Galilee. The quickest way to do this is to travel through Samaria – something which most Jews would avoid.  Tensions between the two groups of people were high and Jesus could not be certain of safe passage. The Samaritans were perhaps the worst kind of enemies – those who with whom the Jews had most in common, but with whom they disagreed on what to us are trivial matters – the date of Passover and the mountain on which Yahweh. That they had the same law and observed many of the same customs only made the differences between them more obvious and the tensions more extreme. They were competing for what they believed to be the truth[2] – the stakes could not be higher.

 

When Jesus asked the woman (a complete stranger) for a drink, he was overlooking centuries of enmity and more astounding, he was revealing his vulnerability – he needed help, the woman was in a position to give it. Immediately, he breaks down any reservations the woman might have. Though he is a Jew, he is vulnerable. He is not a threat.

 

In engaging the woman Jesus saw beyond her gender, ethnicity, religion and marital status to that which they had in common – faith in God and a longing for the kingdom to be restored. In the face of their shared faith, all other barriers dissolved. Instead of seeing difference Jesus saw what they shared, perhaps more importantly he recognised the woman’s spiritual thirst – a thirst he could slake. He saw too, that the woman needed help to move beyond the superficial observance of faith to a deeper, more personal relationship with God. In order to do this, Jesus began the conversation with a conundrum, piquing her interest and drawing her into discussion. The woman responded with what she knew, the visible and practical -whose well and which is the correct mountain on which to worship.  Jesus moved her beyond these trivial and earthly details (details which separate and divide), to what really mattered – the spiritual worship of the God in whom they both believe.

 

Instead of accentuating difference, or asking the woman (and her community) to conform to the Jewish practice of the faith, Jesus looked beyond the detail to the bigger picture – the faith that they shared – faith in the one true God. Instead of criticizing and condemning the Samaritan practice of faith, Jesus affirmed their faithfulness and shared with them the message that he had for all people. As a result, he broke the walls of enmity and with the help of the woman drew all her neighbours into a new, renewed relationship with God

 

Jesus’ conversation with the Samaritan woman (the longest recorded conversation that he has with anyone) shines a light on our own pettiness, our concern with details (rather than the big picture), our tendency to see difference rather than commonality and our willingness to judge and exclude those who hold a view other than our own.

 

Jesus was not concerned to know whether the Samaritan woman was rich or poor, promiscuous or chaste, Samaritan or Jew. He didn’t want to change or “fix” her. He saw beyond the outward appearance of social isolation and shame, to their shared faith and their shared longing and it was to her, a woman of Samaria, that he first revealed himself to be the Messiah.

 

It is usually trivial matters that keep us apart. Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well challenges us to ask:

 

What “truths” do we hold on to that limit, separate and divide?

In what ways do we deny other full expression of their humanity?

Are we guilty of excluding from full participation to the community of faith or to the sacraments – baptism, Eucharist, marriage – those who do not fit our prescriptive norms?

 

Can we, like Jesus, to see beyond the external, to the superficial specifics, to the broader, deeper, more significant, shared faith in the one true God?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.

 


[1] The rainbow was repainted.

[2] Similar differences – the date of Easter, and how to shave one’s head – were among the reasons that the church originally divided – into East and west.

Not seeing the wood for the trees – John 3

March 4, 2023

Lent 2 – 2023
John 3:1-17
Marian Free

In the name of God who cannot be confined or contained by our limited imaginations. Amen.

During the last week, Bishop Jeremy posted the following on Facebook: “How would the Church deal with the phrase ‘the cat sat on the mat’ if it appeared in the Bible?
The liberal theologians would point out that such a passage did not of course mean that the cat literally sat on the mat. Also, cat and mat had different meanings in those days from today, and anyway, the text should be interpreted according to the customs and practices of the period.
This would lead to an immediate backlash from the more fundamental wing. They would make an essential condition of faith that a real physical, living cat, being a domestic pet of the Felix Domesticus species, and having a whiskered head and furry body, four legs and a tail, did physically place its whole body on a floor covering, designed for that purpose, and which is on the floor but not of the floor. The expression “on the floor but not off the floor” would be explained in a leaflet.” (Methodically Reordered) It continued with suggestions for the Catholic Church, the Orthodox Church and for the C of E.

That would be funny if it wasn’t so tragic. Whenever there is debate within or between churches, there is a tendency to fall into the trap of focussing on a single detail, rather than exploring the broader picture.

This is particularly true when it comes to our reading of John’s gospel and chapter three, which we have just heard, is a good example of the temptation to focus on a single point instead of trying to discover how this chapter, (how Nicodemus) fits into the gospel as a whole. Like much of John’s gospel, chapter three is dense and includes many different points of interest – being born again, snakes on poles, our most loved scriptural quote and commentary on the contrast between those who choose the light and those who choose the dark. It is easy for a preacher (or reader) to focus on one small sub-theme, rather than to look at the chapter in its entirety, let alone to examine its relationship to the gospel as a whole. (Many of us are very familiar with the imagery of being born again, but know less about the rest of the chapter.)

John is unique among the gospels. Not only is the content very different from the Synoptic gospels but so too is the way in which the gospel is written. The author of the fourth gospel is very explicit as to his purpose: “these [things] are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the anointed, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name” (Jn 20 31). In order to achieve this goal, the author of John’s gospel employs a number of literary techniques that are intended to draw the readers into a deeper relationship with Jesus.

Among the strategies that John uses are the following. Symbolism. Many of the words and phrases in the gospel have more than one meaning – bread of life, light of the world and so on. Dualism or contrasts. The author of the gospel presents two different forms of existence between which listeners must choose – light/dark, life/death, spirit/flesh, above/below. Dialogue and discourse. In the Synoptic gospels, Jesus’ teaching is presented as sayings or parables. In the fourth gospel, teaching occurs through discussion or through a speech. That is, Jesus draws another person into conversation – which causes bewilderment, but which through the course of the conversation may lead to deeper understanding on the part of the conversation partner. (Think for example of his. conversation with the Samaritan woman at the well – chapter 4.) At other times, a question might lead to a longer discourse such as we see after the feeding of the five thousand when Jesus launches into a dissertation on the meaning of bread (chapter 6).

Repetition of issues, themes and even characters. This has the effect of keeping certain ideas in front of the reader or enabling the elaboration of a theme over the course of the gospel. (When a character reappears, his or her role in the overall story is what is important, not who they are as a person.) In the case of the Beloved Disciple his repeated appearances reveal his similarity to Jesus, and mean that we are not at all surprised when he is asked to take Jesus’ place as Mary’s son.

Coming to faith. Whether it is through discussion with or exposure to Jesus, whether it is immediate or gradual, the various characters in the gospel move from bewilderment to understanding, from inquisitiveness to faith OR from scepticism to unbelief.

Jesus’ encounter with Nicodemus provides an illustration of these techniques. This is why it is important to see the chapter as a whole and not to be distracted by detail (to be worried about what sort of cat is sitting on what sort of mat).

In this chapter, we see that Nicodemus coming to Jesus at night – the darkness symbolising ignorance and revealing Nicodemus’ fear of discovery. Nicodemus’ confusion begins a dialogue with Jesus and also provides a teaching opportunity for Jesus – primarily about the distinctions between flesh and spirit, light and dark and above and below. Nicodemus aopears twice more. In chapter 7 his role is to illustrate the division between the Jews (and to let us think that he is on Jesus’ side – he has moved towards belief. His third and last appearance is at the tomb where he provides 100 pounds of ointments to prepare Jesus’ body for burial and at the same time fulfills a legal need for there to be two witnesses to the fact that Jesus was buried. Overall then, Nicodemus provides an illustration of a person who moves from indifference and confusion, through neutrality, to commitment and understanding.

In this and every gospel, the detail is important, but so too is the overarching theme, the broad sweep of the story, a story that is intended to bring the readers to faith in Jesus and through faith to life in Jesus’ name. In the end, we don’t want to be guilty of not seeing the wood for the trees, of allowing the detail to obscure the complete picture.

Instead of nit-picking about the details (arguing about the cat on the mat, about gay marriage, about candles and robes, about prayer books. and hymnals), we as Christians, as church, should try to focus on the big picture – God’s love for us and God’s saving action through Jesus. When we grasp this, everything else will fall into place.