Lent 2 -2025
Luke 13:31-35
Marian Free
In the name of God who has “yet more light and truth to break forth from God’s word[1].” Amen.
As part of my Lenten discipline, I am reading Healing Wounds: the 2025 Lent Book by Norwegian Bishop and author Erik Varden. Varden is a Trappist monk, so I should not have been surprised that his approach to the study is that of a Roman Catholic. While I understand his imagery, I find some of it jarring. That said, the book is providing much food for thought. Varden takes as his starting point an ancient poem authored by one Arnulf of Leuven (1200-48), a Cistercian and an author. The poem is a meditation on the cross, specifically on Christ’s body on the cross – his feet, his knees, his hands. Varden suggests that the poem asks the question: “How do I appropriate the passion narrative with due proportion and without presumption?” or “How do I experience Christ’s wounds as the living source of a remedy by which sin is cured and humanity’s wounds, my wounds are healed?”[2]
It is not only Varden’s theology that is somewhat different from my own, but his use of scripture. In particular, given this week’s gospel, I have found my self pondering his reference to Luke 13:34b. “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” Varden is commenting on the poet’s reflection on Jesus’ hands – “your sacred hands extended”. The poet continues: “You show yourself broad, ready to receive both good and bad; attracting the indolent, calling the devout, holding them in your embrace, freely open to all.” Influenced by the language of the poet Varden writes: “He (Jesus) desired to gather Jerusalem’s children ‘together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings.’”
I will leave you to ponder what to make of the image. It may be that you, like Arnulf and Varden, see Christ’s outstretched arms on the cross as a welcoming embrace, and that for you too Jesus’ arms nailed to the cross recall to mind Jesus’ words as he contemplates Jerusalem in today’s gospel.
Varden has, it seems to me, used scripture quite creatively, and this is just one example. That said, it is only in the last few hundred years that we have expected scripture to make literal sense. Until quite recently scholars and preachers alike understood that scripture was to be understood allegorically and that it did not have to be entirely logical or linear.
This historical understanding of scripture comes in handy when we examine today’s gospel which, read as a piece, does not seem to be particularly coherent. (In fact, as I am discovering during Morning Prayer, much of Luke’s gospel reads as a list of unrelated sayings or comments.)
In the five verses that comprise this morning’s gospel there appear to be at least four unconnected themes – warnings, determination, concern and prediction – each of which warrant more than the one or two lines allotted. There are foxes and hens, Pharisees who warn rather than attack Jesus, a city that kills prophets, a Saviour who is also a mother hen, and a saying that could refer to Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem or to his post-resurrection return.
In these verses we see Jesus at his most discerning, his most assertive and his most maternal.
Trying to construct a sermon on any one of those themes means neglecting the others. There is a temptation, into which I may have fallen, to speak of foxes and hens, even though there is no direct connection between them in the text.
Sometimes, I believe, it is important not to try to make literal sense of the text but allow it to speak to us in whatever way is appropriate for the time – ours or the world’s. It is important not to force the text into some form of coherence – to make the Pharisees’ warning relate to Jesus’ passionate outburst of love, to conflate Jesus’ discussion with the Pharisees with his reflection on Jerusalem. Likewise, as familiar and heart-warming as they are, we should not take Jesus’ words about gathering the chicks out of context.
It is important to try to make sense of our scriptures, to place them in their context, and to understand the author’s literary skills and intention. There are times though when sitting with the complexities and contradictions that we find in scripture, accepting that no amount of research, no amount of manipulation of the text will translate into something that makes absolute sense is just what is needed.
Sometimes, as I have certainly said before, there seems to be some wisdom, if not intention here – the very incoherence of a text serves a purpose. Texts that seem to make little sense serve as a warning that we are not to rely on an earthly capacity for understanding, or to believe that earthly values are a reflection of heavenly values. Complex, contradictory scriptures force us to accept that we can never truly know the mind of God and that we must let go of our desire for certainty, simply sit with the text, and retain an openness to the movement of the Spirit – in the text, in ourselves and in others.
In the words of the hymn:
We limit not the truth of God
to our poor reach of mind,
by notion of our day and sect,
crude, partial and confined:
no let a new and better hope
within our hearts be stirred:
the Lord has yet more truth and life
to break forth from his word
O Father, Son, and Spirit, send
us increase from above;
enlarge expand all living souls
to comprehend your love;
and make us all go on to know
with nobler power conferred:
that you have yet more light and truth
to break forth from your word.[3]
Sometimes all we can do is to let the words wash over us and make such sense as they will.
[1] George Rawson, hymn writer,1807-89.
[2] Varden, p20. The book is available on Kindle as well as in hard copy.
[3] George Rawson, Togetther in Song, 453.



A matter of time – the raising of Lazarus
March 25, 2023Lent 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.
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Tags:exoectations, Martha, Mary, the raising of Lazarus, theological commentary, time
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