Archive for the ‘Lent’ Category

Is God masquerading as a human being or is Jesus fully human?

February 20, 2021

Lent 1 – 2021

Mark 1:9-15

Marian Free

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

I am aware that a number of people struggle with the idea that Jesus is fully human. That is not really surprising. It is an extraordinarily difficult concept to get one’s head around and yet the belief that Jesus is fully human and fully divine is at the centre of our faith – as we confess each week in the Nicene Creed. 

The significance of Jesus full humanity is clearly illustrated in two lines from this morning’s gospel. “And the Spirit immediately drove 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.” Something external – the Spirit of God – drove Jesus the human into the wilderness. There his true mettle was tested. Without food, water, shelter or even human contact would he succumb to the temptation to take short cuts or would he trust in God to see him through? Would he complain and wish himself at home (as did the Israelites did in the desert) or would he have faith that God would sustain him? Would he try to take control of the situation or would he allow himself to be completely vulnerable?

It is precisely because Jesus is human that the wilderness experience has any value. In the absence of any physical comfort Jesus learns that he is able to rely on God for nourishment. Without human companionship, Jesus discovers that God’s presence has followed him into the barrenness of the desert. It is as a human being that Jesus faces the privations of the desert. It is as a human being that he deals with hunger and loneliness and the voices that taunt him. It is as a human being that Jesus confronts Satan.  

If Jesus is simply God – all of this becomes meaningless. The wilderness would not be a test because God would not be impacted by hunger, fear or loneliness. Forty days would be as nothing to God who created time and space and Satan would be no match because God is strongly than Satan and it is impossible for God to be tempted. 

The whole point of the Incarnation, of God’s coming to earth among us, is that God chooses to fully share our human existence, to become one of us. It is only by fully inhabiting the human condition that Jesus is able to redeem the human condition. Jesus can save humanity from itself precisely by being human, by demonstrating in his own (human) life that our human nature is not an impediment to our divinity. Through the human Jesus, we are reminded that are we created in the image of God and we can be restored to our original place in creation. 

It is only because he is human that Jesus is able to reverse the damage done to our relationship with God inflicted by that first human – Adam. Adam was disobedient, Jesus was obedient. Adam desired to be as God. Jesus resisted the temptation to compete with God. Adam sought control; Jesus chose submission. Jesus demonstrated that we, as human beings, do not have to be determined by Adam’s misstep, but that we can choose a different way of being, a different way of relating to God. He demonstrated in his own life that it is possible to transcend the limitations of being human. 

Examples of Jesus’ humanity abound in Mark’s gospel. Jesus eats and drinks and sleeps. He is compassionate (1:41) angry and sad (3:5, 11:14,15). He expresses amazement (6:6). He becomes tired (4:38) and needs to find time and space for himself (6:30f). He sighs and groans (7:34, 8:12) and becomes annoyed (10:14). He gets frustrated and impatient with his disciples (4:40, 8:21, 8:31) to the extent of calling Peter ‘Satan’. He becomes indignant when the disciples send the children away (10:14). His miracles do not always work the first time (8:22-26) and he does not display foreknowledge (he doesn’t know who touches him). He allows the Syrophoenician woman to challenge him and to change his mind. He is disappointed in, critical of (7:9f, 8:15) and rude to the Pharisees (7). 

In the garden of Gethsemane, Jesus was distressed and agitated, he confessed to being deeply grieved and prayed that God might spare him (14:33f). He experienced betrayal at the hands of two of his inner circle and finally, he was arrested, beaten and crucified. Jesus died, really died – if he did not then the resurrection means nothing.

I put it to you that if Jesus is simply God masquerading as a human being then our faith becomes a nonsense. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to believe in a God who just pretends to be one of us, who is play-acting sharing our experience and who does not really know what it is to be one of us. Because if God is just pretending, Jesus’ torment in the garden becomes a farce, as does his agony and confusion on the cross, not to mention his frustration, his exhaustion and his grief. If Jesus is God impersonating us his death means nothing. 

The reality is that God does not and did not need to go through the drama of coming to earth if God did not believe that by sharing our experience God could somehow enrich that experience, remind us of our true nature and awaken the divinity that resides within each one of us. God, being God could simply have waved his hands and reversed everything that had gone wrong since creation. God, being God, could simply have bent us to God’s will. From the beginning of time, God has not enforced God’s will, but has allowed us to choose our own way. 

The whole point of the salvation event is God’s identification with God’s creation. God in Jesus became one of us to show us creation at its very best and to remind us of what we were intended to be. As the orthodox would say: “Jesus became fully human so that we might become fully divine.” Can we honour that intention this Lent?

Until we meet again

March 20, 2020

Lent 4 – 2020– the day on which we closed the church for the first time in 100 years
John 9:1-41
Marian Free

In the name of God who sustains us through the darkness of night to the dawn of a new day. Amen.

COVID 19 is anything but funny, but there are a number of people who are refusing to lose their sense of humour and who are bringing smiles to our faces. On Facebook a couple of weeks ago someone posted the statement: “I didn’t think I’d have to give up this much for Lent.” Those of us who have decided to forgo alcohol or chocolate during Lent, are now giving up, or being forced to give up, our social activities and our food choices are limited by the panic buying of others. “I didn’t think I’d have to give up this much for Lent.”

Today as we gather in person for the last time for who knows how long, Lent provides the most apt metaphor for this experience. For the sake of each other and for the safety of our community we are being asked to give up something that for many of us is our life-blood – the nourishment through Word and Sacrament that sustains us and the community that supports us.

For most of us these are unprecedented times and the virus is only a part of it. We ourselves do not yet know the effect of having the virus or knowing someone who has it, but we cannot be unaware of the economic strain that physical separation is being faced by a great number of our community, including, I imagine many of you. Employers are reluctantly letting go of casual staff as they face the possibility that their own source of income has dried up. Those who work in businesses that require close proximity to their clients will have to close their doors. People who have never been out of work may find themselves at Centre-link and those who rely on the stock market are finding their incomes drastically reduced.

Socially and personally there are costs. As Aged Care Centres go into lock-down, families are separated from loved ones who may be past the stage of using social media – if they ever could and are finding themselves unable to offer the care that they would wish to. In this Parish we are having to put into recess some of the activities that connect lonely and vulnerable people with the wider community. Social isolation for those who live alone or the pressure of spending more time with each other for those who don’t will undoubtedly have serious consequences.

For many it is already a time of anxiety on many fronts and for some recovery might be slow and long. We must pray daily that those who are suffering financially, physically or socially are given the resources to survive and the strength to continue.

And still, we are among the lucky ones. We live in a country with a well-resourced health system, and a stable government. The inconveniences and losses we will experience cannot compare with those of the millions who are languishing in refugee camps or living in war zones with little food and little to no medical support.

It causes me great sadness to forbid you to come to worship, but I have come to see that this is a novel and extraordinary way to spend Lent, even if it is a longer Lent than we had expected. A time of separation from those things that sustain us, a time in the wilderness is a gift that we don’t often allow ourselves in the midst of our day-to-day lives. Now that we are being forced to stay away from our usual social and spiritual activities, we have an opportunity connect with God at an even deeper level and to reaffirm our trust in God through good times and through bad.

It is true that we probably won’t be able to gather for Good Friday this year, but that will make it the most extraordinary and profound Good Friday ever – going without the one thing that really makes it Good Friday! We don’t need to be here to intentionally stop and reflect on that moment when God seemed truly absent. The loss and grief of being unable to gather in this place will help us to share Jesus’ cry: “My God, my God, why?!” and to reflect on Jesus’ willingness to give up everything so that we might have life.

And Easter – what will it be like to celebrate Easter without gathering together to sing those wonderful triumphant hymns that are a reminder that we have pulled through the darkness to the light on the other side? It may feel so empty and even joyless, but I would encourage you to think of this as an extended Lent that will end when the crisis is deemed to be over. Then what celebrations will there be! Easter and new life will never have seemed so real and we will affirm for another year that: “Jesus lives! Thy terrors now can no more O death enthrall us!” and join in singing other hymns that assert Jesus’ victory over the grave.

This is an unusual moment in time and your clergy team, your wardens and Parish council will do all that we can to support you through it.

My friends be strong, be careful, care for each other, be safe and above all keep the faith until we meet again to proclaim the new life that awaits, to remind ourselves that nothing, not even death, can separate us from the love of God and that not even the grave could contain Jesus our Saviour and our friend.

Family values

February 29, 2020

Lent 1 – 2020

Matthew 4:1-11

Marian Free

In the name of God who has created us in God’s image. Amen.

Even though I am not a royalist I am as curious as anyone else about the current buzz around Harry and Meghan. On the ABC website on Saturday (29th February) there was some commentary about their future, in particular the future of their branding. The point was made that if the pair want to make their own way in the world, they will have to find a way to brand themselves that attracts engagements and/or sponsors that will create an income stream. That goal may be difficult, the writer points out, now that they are no longer able to use the title or the brand “Royal”. By going their own way, they have cut themselves off from the family/the brand and from the responsibilities, privileges and roles of being part of that brand. To ensure a public presence and to create their own brand they may have to seek the very thing that they were trying to avoid – publicity. In the past Harry’s identity was tied to that of the Royal family, none of us know what it will be like now that he has cut those ties[1].

What does it mean to be a part of the Christian family? More particularly, what does it mean to be the Son of God, a child of God? This is the question that Jesus’ temptations attempt to answer (for Jesus first of all and for Matthew’s readers second). Jesus is led into the wilderness as a direct consequence of his baptism at which a voice from heaven declared: “This is my son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Matthew has gone to great lengths to establish Jesus’ identity as a member of the people of Israel whose lineage goes all the way back to Abraham. What is more, Matthew makes it clear that Jesus is the fulfillment of God’s Old Testament promises.

Jesus’ baptism takes this process of identification one step further, Jesus is named as the son of God. That is, he is integrally related to God, a member of God’s family (part of God’s brand even!)

Jesus’ temptations tease out the meaning of this title and Jesus’ entitlement to claim his place in the family. The tempter is encouraging Jesus to strike out on his own, to make his own way in the world. “If you are the Son of God..” Three times the tempter or Satan confronts Jesus with these words. If you are the Son of God turn stones into bread, throw yourself off this high place, fall down and worship me. If you are the Son of God. If you are the Son of God, prove it. Perform miracles, demonstrate that no harm can come to you, take over the world! Make your own way in the world, you know you can do it!

In the mind of the tempter (and perhaps in the minds of the readers of the gospel] being the Son of God means having the power to do all these – working miracles, doing dangerous things and coming to no harm and using one’s power to rule the world. Thankfully, Jesus is clear that being the Son of God means remaining close to God, taking on the responsibilities and demands that come with being God’s Son and conforming to the image of God, whatever that might cost. Despite the temptation to do so, Jesus will not do cheap tricks, take an easy path or seek power for himself. To do so would place him in competition with God and would cut him off from the source of his life and power.

As the Son of God, Jesus has to trust God, to believe that God knows what is best (for him and for the world) and to understand that if he wants to be a part of God’s family he has to accept and conform to the family norms and values. This is what the tempter does not understand. Coming from the position of someone who challenges and resists God, the tempter believes that Jesus will fare much better if he strikes out on his own – if he chooses his way and not God’s way.

On a superficial level this seems to be the case, especially in the first instance. It is completely within Jesus’ power to turn stones into bread – after all, doesn’t he feed the five thousand? Jumping off the Temple without being hurt would certainly draw people’s attention – and be an easy way to ensure that people followed him. And ruling the world – isn’t that what it is all about, getting the world to follow him?

Jesus understands that being severed from God will not in fact benefit anyone but himself (if it does that). He resists the seduction of an easier path. He places his relationship with God above his personal needs and desires and he trusts that, whatever lies ahead, reliance on God, trust in God, submission to God and above all his intimate relationship with God are the only way to achieve God’s goals for him (and for the world).

Being a child of God means aligning oneself with the values of the family of God, accepting that (however difficult the present may be) God has our best interests (and those of the world) at heart and that the future God has planned for us is one that we will not find if we choose any other way.

 

 

[1] In what follows, I am not suggesting that Harry and Meghan have given into temptation, just that their current situation illustrates what it means to separate oneself from the culture and norms of a family.

Giving our all and receiving so much more

April 6, 2019

Lent 5 – 2019

John 12:1-8

Marian Free

In the name of God who longs that we give God all that we are and all that we have. Amen.

You may or may not have realized that there are a number of different accounts of Jesus’ being anointed by a woman. Mark’s account (Mk 14:3f) (which is followed quite closely by that of Matthew) tells us that Jesus, having arrived in Jerusalem for the Passover, is spending the evening in Bethany. He is sitting at table at the home of Simon the leper. While he is there a woman comes in from the street and pours a jar of costly ointment over Jesus’ head. Some of the disciples are angry and scold the woman. They ask why the ointment was wasted when it could have been sold and the money given to the poor. Jesus responds that they always have the poor with them and comments that the woman has anointed his body for its burial.

Matthew makes a only couple of small changes – in his account all the disciples are angry, but they do not scold the woman.

Luke uses similar elements to tell the story in a very different way (Lk 7:36f). Whereas Mark, followed by Matthew and John puts the account at the end of Jesus’ ministry. Luke places it much earlier in his narrative. In his version, Simon the leper becomes Simon the Pharisee and the woman is identified as a sinner. In Luke’s re-telling, the Pharisee has invited Jesus to eat with him. As they eat, a woman comes in off the street. She bathes Jesus’ feet with her tears and wipes them with her hair. Then she anoints and kisses Jesus’ feet. According to Luke the disciples have no part to play in the narrative. It is Simon the Pharisee who reacts negatively to the woman’s actions. Simon is not offended by the waste of money, but by the fact that Jesus (who must surely know that the woman is a sinner) is allowing her to touch him.

Despite his obvious concern for the poor elsewhere, Luke does not quote Jesus saying about the poor. Instead, Luke uses the account to teach about forgiveness.

The story of the woman who anoints Jesus is (unusually) found in all four gospels. In John’s gospel the setting (like that of Mark and Matthew) is in Bethany – immediately before the Passover. John however, places the account in the home of Jesus’ close friends – the siblings Mary, Martha and Lazarus. It is Mary, not a stranger off the street, who takes the costly ointment and uses it to anoint Jesus’ feet. As with the sinful woman of Luke’s gospel, Mary wipes Jesus’ feet with her hair. In John, it is only Judas who thinks that the ointment should have been sold and the money given to the poor.

If we leave aside Luke’s account, it is interesting to note that it is the extravagance of the anointing that causes offense in Mark. Apparently, the disciples are not worried that the woman is behaving in a way that, even in the twenty first century would cause onlookers to squirm – only that the ointment could be sold and given to the poor. We have no way of knowing if this reflects their attitude to possessions in general, a genuine concern for the poor or whether they resent the fact that the woman/Mary can afford such a gift or if they are anxious that her extravagance shows up their frugality or meanness.

John’s telling of the story, though brief, is redolent with meaning. It lies between the raising of Lazarus and Jesus’ own death. The fragrance of the ointment contrasts with the stench of Lazarus’ body and Mary’s action prefigures Jesus’ foot washing at the last supper.

What has challenged interpreters throughout the centuries is not the differences between the accounts or the symbolism of John’s version but rather the meaning of Jesus’ words: “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

Does this mean, as many have suggested, that we have no responsibility for those who, for whatever reason are less fortunate than ourselves? Or does it mean that Jesus is telling us that we should not use the poor as a means to an end – to draw attention to ourselves or to demonstrate our generosity? Or does it, as Janet Hunt reflects , ask us to consider where our priorities lie? In other words, are we, like Mary, able to focus not only our resources but our time and our energy entirely on Jesus or are we constantly distracted by other “important” or “worthy” tasks – by the poor whoever they may be.In other words, do we convince ourselves that our inattention to prayer, our failure to set aside time to be with God is justified because what we are doing instead – visiting the sick, minding our grandchildren, cleaning the church – is another way of showing our commitment to our faith.

“You always have the poor with you.” There is always time to be of use to our family and friends, to provide solace, company and assistance to others. Putting Jesus first does not rob them of our attention or our time, but rather it makes our care for them more focused and more meaningful. Making time for Jesus, giving ourselves to Jesus first and foremost ensures that we have the reserves to give ourselves more fully to those in need and it means that we are not using their needs as an excuse not to look after ourselves and after our relationship with God.

When Mary takes the ointment and anoints Jesus’ feet, she is thinking only of Jesus and is giving herself completely to him. It is not that other things, other people do not have a claim on her, but for this moment she is totally focused on him. Other demands, on her time and her resources, will still be there when she is done and she will see to them then.

The distractions in our lives – even those that seem praiseworthy or commendable – will not vanish if we put God first and, if we put God first, the praiseworthy and commendable will be even more so. Those whom we seek to serve will be better served by one who, having been restored in God’s presence can give themselves even more freely and even more generously.

Known and loved

March 30, 2019

Lent 4 – 2019

Luke 15:1-3,11b-32

Marian Free

In the name of God, whose love for us is not determined by what we do or don’t do, but is freely poured out on us all. Amen.

There is a wonderful movie based on the book The Joy Luck Club. The novel follows the lives of four Chinese women who, for quite different reasons, have fled China and found themselves in the United States. There they all marry and have children and form a strong familial bond such that their children could be cousins. We witness the children growing up and the competition between the mothers as the children excel at chess, at the piano, at school and then in the work place. On the whole, the off spring are noisy and self confident high achievers. One, June, does not fit the mould. At ‘family’ gatherings she stays in the background. June doesn’t want to compete with her cousins, she lacks their confidence and selfishness and is always putting the others before herself. At family gatherings it is June who takes the smallest portion of a choice dish and it is she who is to be found helping out with the cleaning up while the other cousins are chatting among themselves.

One evening June, who has made the choice to help her mother rather than sit with her cousins, bristles with resentment (at least as much as someone as sweet as June, can bristle). Even though she willingly helps out, on this particular evening she feels taken for granted. She complains to her mother who responds: “I see you. I see you taking the worst piece of crab when your cousins take the best. I see you looking after your aunties. I see you helping out. I see you.” “I see you.”

June had thought that her actions went unnoticed and that her mother preferred her more confident, higher achieving ‘cousins’, but all along her mother knew her and saw her. June’s quiet help had not gone unnoticed. Her gentle and unobtrusive presence was seen and valued. Knowing this is enough for June. Until now June hadn’t needed or sought reward for her behaviour, but this evening she want to know that she was not unappreciated or invisible. Her mother’s affirmation is sufficient reassurance. She knows that she doesn’t have to compete with her cousins. She understands that she is valued for who she is and that is enough.

I don’t know anyone who does not identify with the older son in today’s parable. Whether it is because we ourselves are an older sibling or whether our sense of justice is deeply offended at the father’s inexplicable generosity towards the son who squandered his inheritance we all sympathize with the older brother who is hurt and angry. After all, we think, he is the good son. He hasn’t rocked the boat. He has quietly, willingly and diligently done all that was expected of him. Why should the younger brother be rewarded and the older son ignored?

We feel this way because we fail to see is that like June, until now the older brother has not felt that he was missing out, or if he did, he had not talked it over with his father. He has simply, and presumably happily, been doing what was expected of him. He has been the dutiful son. He hasn’t sought a reward for doing what was right but, seeing the father’s generosity towards his brother, he becomes aware that he could have had more. Perhaps like June, he had always wanted some reassurance that his conforming to social norms was valued and that his work was not unseen. Or perhaps all along he has been desperate for his father to acknowledge and reward his good behaviour. He may even have been going above and beyond what was expected in a misguided attempt to earn his father’s respect. His resentment, hitherto unnamed and perhaps unrecognized comes bubbling to the surface when his brother- the one who has disgraced himself and brought shame to his family – appears to be being rewarded not for good behaviour, but for bad behaviour. He, the older brother, is the one who should have been rewarded. He is the one to whom the father should have paid some attention. His is the hard work that should have been recognized.

Sadly, like June, the older son hasn’t understood his father’s love for him. Like June he has failed to identify his need for affirmation and he is mistaken in his father’s regard for him. He has not been taken for granted. His readiness to do what was required has not been ignored. If only he knew it he already has everything that belongs to the father. If only he realised that father has not asked or expected him to make sacrifices or to go without. Quite unnecessarily, the older son has made a martyr of himself. He did not accept that his father’s love and regard were freely given and now, when he sees what he could have had, he seethes with resentment. His relationship with his father was based on the false understanding that his father’s love needed to be earned. This is why he simply cannot understand that his father could welcome back his brother without exacting some retribution or imposing some punishment. He has so misunderstood his father’s regard for him that no amount of pleading will get him to go inside to the party – further demonstrating his lack of comprehension of the nature of father’s love.

So – if you identify with the older son ask yourself this – are you doing things you would rather not do because you think you need to? Are you being a martyr in the secret hope that you will be rewarded? Do you have it in your head that you/we need to earn God’s love or approval? Is your relationship with God such that you do not yet understand that God is always reaching out to you and constantly inviting you to the party?

None of us are perfect, yet here we all are – being held and loved by God.

If we resent God’s generosity towards those we consider to be less deserving perhaps it is because we do not yet know and value God generosity towards and love for us.

Following God as if nothing else matters (updated for Lent 3)

March 23, 2019

Lent 3 – 2019

Luke 13:31-35

Marian Free

In the name of God who is our all in all. .

The mini series “The Cry” is a psychological thriller that moves between the past and the present in a way that is quite confusing and also terrifying. It begins with a courtroom scene is which a young woman is on trial. As the story unfolds we learn that the woman is a sleep-deprived mother of a child who refuses to settle. When the child disappears, our immediate thought is that the distraught woman had something to do with the disappearance and we leap to the conclusion that this is why she on trial. Our suspicion is confirmed (or so we think) when we discover that the child is not missing but dead. As the story vacillates between the past and the present we are taken on a tortuous journey during which the truth is gradually revealed. Only at the very end do all the pieces of the puzzle fit into place and we learn why it is that the woman is in the dock.

Writers, including script writers, use all kinds of techniques to pique our interest and to maintain our attention through the course of a story. Giving the audience or the reader a preview of what is going to happen is just one way of keeping them engaged, of maintaining the tension, or of building suspense.

Luke appears to be doing just this in the gospel and in particular in the five verses we have before us this morning. First of all a sense of imminent danger is created by the warning of the Pharisees who tell Jesus that Herod wants to kill him. This is followed by Jesus’ statement that a prophet cannot be killed outside Jerusalem. The threat posed by Herod and Jesus’ insinuation that he is going to Jerusalem to die intensify a sense of foreboding that has hung over this gospel since Simeon’s prophesy that Jesus would be a sword that would pierce Mary’s soul (2:35); since Satan departed to return at an opportune time (4:13); since the people of Nazareth threatened to drive Jesus over a cliff (4:29); since Jesus so infuriated the Pharisees that they discussed what they might do with him (6:11); and since Jesus’ obscure sayings about the Son of Man being killed and then raised.

We are so inured to story and so familiar with its happy ending, that we do not always hear the threat that lies just beneath the surface nor do we see the sword that hangs over Jesus’ head from the beginning. The reality of the resurrection deafens and blinds us to the way in which tension has been building throughout the gospel and is so evident here.

These five verses make it abundantly clear that Jesus is heading into danger. Twice Jesus mentions a three day time span: “today and tomorrow and the third day”, “today and tomorrow and the next day” which provide the reader with an ominous reminder of the passion predictions. Herod is planning to kill him and Jesus feels that he must go on to Jerusalem for it is there (and only there?) that the prophets die.

The reader cannot help but wonder why Jesus insists on continuing the journey. We find ourselves willing him to turn back, to change his stride and to stop antagonizing those who have the power to destroy him. Surely he has some sense of self-preservation!

It is clear that Jesus knows what is at stake and yet he will not be deterred. His response to the reports that Herod wants to kill him is that he still has work to do. The fact Jerusalem will not welcome him but will murder him is no reason for him to interrupt or to abort his journey, but only gives him cause to continue. He has a mission and a goal and not even the worst threat or the most dire of consequences will deflect him from this task. God’s call on his life is inviolable. For Jesus, life and death have no meaning if they are not in accord with God’s plan for him.

The massacre in Christchurch and other acts of violence perpetrated on the innocent, remind us that we live in a world that is filled with unforeseen risks and dangers and that even in our places of worship we are not safe from the horrors of irrational hatred. Christians in Egypt, in Nigeria and elsewhere have long been aware that the practice of their faith places them in great danger. Yet the threat of attack does not prevent them from engaging in corporate worship and the death of church leaders and even of family members does not weaken their faith let alone cause them to lose faith. God’s place in their hearts and God’s call on their lives is such that violence, hatred or disparagement have no power to distract them from what is at the core of their being.

In this season of Lent we are challenged to consider the distractions in our lives, the things that grab our attention, the things that inhibit or interfere with our relationship with God, the things that prevent us from truly heeding and responding to God’s call on and the things that reveal our timidity and our desire for self-preservation. Today’s reading provokes a number of questions: do we waver in our faith when the going gets rough? would we hold true to our course in the face of danger? would we turn aside if we thought our lives were at risk? Are our eyes firmly fixed on God or do we have one eye focused on what is going around us? How much do we trust God with life itself?

Our faith will almost certainly not cost us our lives, but that should not stop us following Jesus as if nothing else mattered.

One more chance

March 23, 2019

Lent 2 – 2019

Luke 13:1-9 (Some thoughts)

Marian Free

In the name of God who always gives us a second chance. Amen.

I have said many times before that the gospel writers have not captured Jesus’ words exactly in the places where and when he might have actually said them. By the time the gospels were being written Jesus’ sayings and parables had been circulating orally for decades. Almost certainly the stories were simply repeated out of context. (Remember what Jesus said about ..? Remember the story about the Samaritan ..? and so on.) Early believers were not so interested in Jesus’ life especially when those who knew Jesus were still alive. What that means is that when writer of Luke recorded his story of Jesus, he had available to him a collection of teaching material from which he had to create some order and which he had to insert into a chronological account of Jesus’ life. Sayings that appeared to have something in common were placed together but sometimes, as is the case today their positioning seems to our eyes to be quite random.

The first saying presents a picture of a God who is exacting and demanding. It suggests that any trauma or trouble in our lives is God’s judgement on our bad behaviour. (In our current context it would allow us to justify the massacre in Christchurch as a consequence of the ‘sins’ of those who were killed and injured.) Most of us would find this theology abhorrent. It presents an image of God that does not fit with the infant in the cradle or the victim on the cross.

It is well for us that this saying is balanced by the parable of the gardener and the fig. Those of us who have tried to grow fruit trees in this climate know how much work it can take and how disappointing it is when our tree produces nothing. Careful pruning, judicious fertilising and appropriate watering can be to no avail if, for example the weather is not right. Some of us will sympathize with the owner who, frustrated by the lack of fruit wants to replace the fig with something that will produce a yield. Not so the gardener who argues that the tree be given one more chance.

One more chance – this is more like the God who sent Jesus to an unworthy people. One more chance – God doesn’t demand perfection, nor does God wait until we are perfect until we receive the blessings that faith showers upon us. One more chance, then another and another. Over and over again God reaches out to us – frail and imperfect as we are – and says ‘one more chance’, ‘have another go’, ‘you can do it’.

The God in whom I believe, the God who came into a world that was far from perfect, is not remote and distant but close and reassuring. God ‘knows of what we are made’ and, over and over again, makes allowances for us.

God always gives us one more chance.

Lent is an opportunity, a gift from God to take that chance, to make changes in our lives such that by Easter we are in some way more faithful, more joyful or more at peace with the world. Year after year (if need be, day after day) we can take hold of the opportunity to change, to grow and to bear fruit such that albeit imperceptibly we reach the potential God has in mind for us.

One more chance – take it!

Following God as if nothing else matters

March 16, 2019

Lent 3 – 2019

Luke 13:31-35

Marian Free

In the name of God who is our all in all. .

The mini series “The Cry” is a psychological thriller that moves between the past and the present in a way that is quite confusing and also terrifying. It begins with a courtroom scene is which a young woman is on trial. As the story unfolds we learn that the woman is a sleep-deprived mother of a child who refuses to settle. When the child disappears, our immediate thought is that the distraught woman had something to do with the disappearance and we leap to the conclusion that this is why she on trial. Our suspicion is confirmed (or so we think) when we discover that the child is not missing but dead. As the story vacillates between the past and the present we are taken on a tortuous journey during which the truth is gradually revealed. Only at the very end do all the pieces of the puzzle fit into place and we learn why it is that the woman is in the dock.

Writers, including script writers, use all kinds of techniques to pique our interest and to maintain our attention through the course of a story. Giving the audience or the reader a preview of what is going to happen is just one way of keeping them engaged, of maintaining the tension, or of building suspense.

Luke appears to be doing just this in the gospel and in particular in the five verses we have before us this morning. First of all a sense of imminent danger is created by the warning of the Pharisees who tell Jesus that Herod wants to kill him. This is followed by Jesus’ statement that a prophet cannot be killed outside Jerusalem. The threat posed by Herod and Jesus’ insinuation that he is going to Jerusalem to die intensify a sense of foreboding that has hung over this gospel since Simeon’s prophesy that Jesus would be a sword that would pierce Mary’s soul (2:35); since Satan departed to return at an opportune time (4:13); since the people of Nazareth threatened to drive Jesus over a cliff (4:29); since Jesus so infuriated the Pharisees that they discussed what they might do with him (6:11); and since Jesus’ obscure sayings about the Son of Man being killed and then raised.

We are so inured to story and so familiar with its happy ending, that we do not always hear the threat that lies just beneath the surface nor do we see the sword that hangs over Jesus’ head from the beginning. The reality of the resurrection deafens and blinds us to the way in which tension has been building throughout the gospel and is so evident here.

These five verses make it abundantly clear that Jesus is heading into danger. Twice Jesus mentions a three day time span: “today and tomorrow and the third day”, “today and tomorrow and the next day” which provide the reader with an ominous reminder of the passion predictions. Herod is planning to kill him and Jesus feels that he must go on to Jerusalem for it is there (and only there?) that the prophets die.

The reader cannot help but wonder why Jesus insists on continuing the journey. We find ourselves willing him to turn back, to change his stride and to stop antagonizing those who have the power to destroy him. Surely he has some sense of self-preservation!

It is clear that Jesus knows what is at stake and yet he will not be deterred. His response to the reports that Herod wants to kill him is that he still has work to do. The fact Jerusalem will not welcome him but will murder him is no reason for him to interrupt or to abort his journey, but only gives him cause to continue. He has a mission and a goal and not even the worst threat or the most dire of consequences will deflect him from this task. God’s call on his life is inviolable. For Jesus, life and death have no meaning if they are not in accord with God’s plan for him.

The massacre in Christchurch and other acts of violence perpetrated on the innocent, remind us that we live in a world that is filled with unforeseen risks and dangers and that even in our places of worship we are not safe from the horrors of irrational hatred. Christians in Egypt, in Nigeria and elsewhere have long been aware that the practice of their faith places them in great danger. Yet the threat of attack does not prevent them from engaging in corporate worship and the death of church leaders and even of family members does not weaken their faith let alone cause them to lose faith. God’s place in their hearts and God’s call on their lives is such that violence, hatred or disparagement have no power to distract them from what is at the core of their being.

In this season of Lent we are challenged to consider the distractions in our lives, the things that grab our attention, the things that inhibit or interfere with our relationship with God, the things that prevent us from truly heeding and responding to God’s call on and the things that reveal our timidity and our desire for self-preservation. Today’s reading provokes a number of questions: do we waver in our faith when the going gets rough? would we hold true to our course in the face of danger? would we turn aside if we thought our lives were at risk? Are our eyes firmly fixed on God or do we have one eye focused on what is going around us? How much do we trust God with life itself?

Our faith will almost certainly not cost us our lives, but that should not stop us following Jesus as if nothing else mattered.

Authenticity

March 9, 2019

Lent 1 – 2019

Luke 4:1-15

Marian Free

In the name of God who, in Jesus, became totally vulnerable and totally accessible. Amen.

For a while there was a trend among writers and journalists to write searingly honest accounts about parenthood. Articles and columns were written, and books published by new parents, mostly mothers, who took it upon themselves to debunk the myths around parenthood. As I remember most of the authors were people who came to parenting later in life. They had established careers, bought homes and developed reasonably comfortable lifestyles and patterns of existence. None seemed to expect the enormous disruption that a new born child would bring. They had been led to believe all the positives – the flood of love that threatens to overwhelm you and the delights of watching as your child reveals her personality. They had bought “sales talk” of being able to establish a routine, the ability to work around baby’s naptime and the notion that if you do everything right your beautiful baby will fit right into your lifestyle!

When confronted with the reality of babies who don’t settle, whose crying interrupts dinner with friends and who refuse to settle into any sort of fixed pattern, such writers discover that their lives are completely upended and that, among other things, continuing their writing is near impossible. As a consequence of their surprise and unpreparedness they put pen to paper to share their experience and to prepare any other unsuspecting parents-to-be.

(At least this is how I imagine the events that lead to the articles.)

In some way the authors of these biographies felt that their families, their friends and society at large had undersold the difficulties of child-rearing, had put on a positive face despite the difficulties they themselves had confronted and had created an image that a baby would only enrich one’s life and that any down-sides were easily managed if only one used the right techniques.

I can understand how such false views are perpetrated and, if I am honest, I can own my own part in creating an image of trouble-free parenting. As a first (and second) time mother I attended my local playgroup with a number of my peers. Topics of conversation included sleeping through the night, potty training, and other riveting topics. In that situation, in which everyone else seemed to be succeeding at parenting, I found it difficult to admit that my elder child was not yet toilet trained and that my younger child screamed for two hours after every feed, no matter what I did. In that situation, observers could have been excused for believing that I was coping with motherhood and that my children were behaving in the same way as the other children in the group. Of course, unknown to me, there may have been another mother in my group who had difficulties of her own. If I had had the courage to be vulnerable and imperfect, I would have given her permission to acknowledge her own frustrations and concerns.

In the poem “Ash Wednesday” T.S. Elliot prays:

“Blessèd sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,

Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood”

“Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood.” Elliot recognises that self-deceit, self-delusion is an impediment to authentic relationships. Deception leads to hurt, mistrust, confusion and even anger. As long as we endeavour to hide our real selves and our real experiences, no one will trust us with theirweaknesses and we build a society based not on the truth, but on a collective myth which results in everyone is trying to be someone whom they are not.

Honesty and authenticity inspire trust, allow others to be vulnerable and create relationships which give permission for each person be open and transparent about their own struggles and imperfections. In situations of trust we can share with each other our difficulties in parenting, our anxieties in the work place or even the violence of our spouses. The world would be a better place if we broke down the images of perfection that we try to create and, by being vulnerable ourselves, make a space in which others can own their imperfections.

When we feel that we have to put on a face, when we are tempted to create a positive image of ourselves or to “be strong” in the face of adversity, we do well to remember that Jesus was open to his weaknesses. After forty days of isolation and fasting all kinds of ideas came to him. After all, he was the Son of God! There was nothing that he could not do! He could turn stones into bread, jump off a cliff with no fear that he would come to harm OR he could use his God-given power to rule the world! Whether we attribute these ideas to an external power (Satan) or to Jesus’ own thought processes, they tell us that Jesus was open to temptation and, though he resisted, he was not so perfect that such ideas did not occur to him. He was vulnerable either to Satan’s influence, or to his own desire for recognition or power. That the story of the temptations is recorded, tells us that Jesus had made it known. Jesus was not afraid to let others know that he too had moments of vulnerability and weakness.

It was Jesus’ humanity that made Jesus so easy to relate to – he got tired, he was frustrated with the disciples’ lack of understanding and he was infuriated by the practices of the Pharisees. In turn the disciples felt free to be themselves – confused, foolish and seeking to be first.

Jesus’ relationship with the disciples and theirs with him was authentic and real. Jesus was fully himself as were the disciples. Neither thought less of the other for having human failings and fears, doubts and confusions.

“Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood.” Self-deceit not only damages and limits our relationships with one another, it also restricts our personal development and constrains our spiritual growth. As long as we delude ourselves as to who and what we are, we make it impossible to have a relationship with God that is meaningful and real, impossible to learn from our mistakes and impossible to realise our full potential.

This Lent, may we have the courage to relinquish our fear of being exposed, may we trust God and those around us with our true selves and create relationships with God and with one another that are honest and real, life-giving and life-sustaining and in so doing grow into our true selves and enable others to do the same.

 

Whose side are you on?

February 24, 2018

Lent 2 – 2018

Mark 8:31-39

Marian Free

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

Last week I suggested that Jesus’ experience in the wilderness was a means of preparing him for what was to come. The hostile environment, the privations and the encounter with Satan could be seen a foretaste of what Jesus could expect as he began his ministry as one who had been named the Son of God. From start to finish, Jesus will encounter misunderstanding, antagonism and opposition – from demons, from the authorities, from his family and even from his own disciples. If he could withstand the difficulties that he faced in the desert, he (and God) could be comfortable that he would be able to survive the forces that would oppose him as he attempted to share the good news.

Today’s gospel takes a great leap forward from Jesus’ baptism and temptation. What that means is that we have not been following Mark’s story line and so we have not seen the way in which the tensions between Jesus and his opponents build and develop. We have not been privy to the threats against Jesus’ life that began as early as chapter 3.

To bring you up to speed then: after Jesus’ baptism he is driven into the wilderness where he is tested or tried out by Satan. During the course of his ministry the demons confront him, the leaders of the church challenge and criticize him, his family are concerned that he is mad and now we discover that Peter, one of Jesus’ inner circle, is among those who would oppose or even prevent Jesus’ mission. So serious is Peter’s misunderstanding that Jesus accuses Peter of being Satan or the adversary.

Today’s passage, with the one that precedes it, is the climax of Mark’s gospel. In the verses immediately preceding those we have just read, Jesus asks the disciples: “Who do people say that I am?” They respond: “John the Baptist, Elijah, or one of the prophets.” Jesus then asks: “Who do you say that I am?” Peter responds: “You are the Christ.” Peter has spoken the truth, but what follows demonstrates that Peter knows and understands only half the truth. His understanding of the Christ is limited. It has been conditioned by the cultural expectations of his time and, despite the fact that he has been with Jesus since the beginning, his experiences have not impacted on his expectations.

In Mark’s gospel Jesus is very reluctant to make his identity public. Jesus is well aware that he will fail to meet the hopes of many of the people. He knows that those who were expecting God to send someone to restore the glory of Israel – politically, economically, spiritually – will be seriously disappointed. Jesus does not reveal who he is because he knows that he will be misunderstood. Contrary to the popular thought, Jesus will not be a Christ who will lead the people to a triumphant victory over Rome. He is not a Christ who will restore the purity of the Temple worship. Jesus is neither a warrior nor a high priest.

So, when Peter declares him to be the Christ, Jesus’ qualifies Peter’s declaration with a description of the future that he, as the Christ, can expect. “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 has so misunderstood Jesus’ ministry that he is shocked to the core by Jesus’ revelation and so validates Jesus’ belief that he will be misunderstood. In fact, Peter is so shocked that he immediately tries to convince Jesus that he is mistaken.

If Peter’s declaration that Jesus’ is the Christ is the climax of the gospel, then Peter’s response to Jesus’ prediction is the other side of that fulcrum. The stakes are high – as is demonstrated by the strong language that is used in this passage. “Epitimaō” the word that is translated as “rebuke” in our versions of the New Testament, means “to overcome with a powerful word”. It can be used to demonstrate the way in which Jesus exercises power over the demons and over the natural elements. In other words it is used in the context of the fierce battle between the demons and the divine. On Peter’s lips it could be translated, “Shut up! Don’t say such things!” On Jesus’ lips, as the text makes clear, it suggests that Jesus understood Peter to be taking the side of the demonic forces that opposed Jesus. Jesus’ response is to tell Peter to go away. A better translation of “Get behind me, Satan,” is: “Depart behind me Satan” (in other words, “Get out of my sight, you have no place alongside the divine”). Not surprisingly, this is the same language used by Matthew when Jesus casts out demons. Jesus banishes Peter not only because he so spectacularly fails to understand but also because he has the arrogance to presume that he knows better than God what lies ahead. In that moment Peter has shown himself to be on the side of Jesus’ opponents who want to prevent him from fulfilling his destiny.

The language of this passage tells us that this is not a simple disagreement between Peter and Jesus but “a life-and-death clash between the divine and the diabolical”.[1]

This brief interchange between Jesus and Peter shows how much is at stake if we fail to truly grasp who and what Jesus is, if we try to contain Jesus through simple and well-worn categories or if we think that we know better than God. Jesus’ crucifixion is proof-positive that God acts in ways that we do not expect and that we cannot comprehend. The cross throws into relief all our false ideas, our hopes and expectations. Jesus is not all-powerful and all-knowing, but vulnerable and subject to misunderstanding. Jesus’ life, ministry and ultimately Jesus’ death forces us to continually rethink our ideas about God – who is not triumphant, who does not exert God’s will over us and who shows in high relief the distinction between the divine and its opposite.

Jesus is not and will not be who or what we expect. So let us not make Peter’s mistake of assuming that we know and understand, but rather suspend our certainty so that we can learn from Christ who and what he is.

 

 

 

 

[1] C. Clifton Black, workingpreacher.org. Lent 2 2018.