Archive for the ‘Lent’ Category

Wholly whole, holy whole

March 5, 2022

Lent 1 – 2022a
Luke 4:1-13
Marian Free

In the name of God in whose image we are made and in whose eyes we are beloved. Amen.

Just when you think that a section of scripture has nothing more to reveal, the Holy Spirit opens your eyes to new insights. So it was as I prepared once again to find some words to say about Jesus’ time in the wilderness and about his battle with the devil.

In the course of my reading around the subject, it occurred to me that the heart of the account of Jesus’s temptations is less an example of the strength and more an exploration of the Incarnation – what it means for Jesus to be both fully divine and fully human. That Jesus is both human and divine is hinted at in the verse immediately prior to this account. Unlike Matthew, who begins his gospel with Jesus’ genealogy, Luke places it after his baptism and before his temptation. Further, whereas Matthew goes back to Abraham – the father of the Israelites, Luke takes Jesus’ origins all the way back to God. In 3:38 we read: “son of Enos, son of Seth, son of Adam, son of God”. In other words, Luke is making it quite clear that Jesus is the offspring of the first human and of God.

As such, the account of Jesus in the wilderness is as much a lesson on the nature of Jesus as it is about temptation. If we avoid the temptation to see that Jesus’ encounter with the devil is only about temptation, we can allow ourselves to consider what it is about Jesus’ nature that informs our understanding of human nature. That is if, as we believe, Jesus was fully human, filled with the Holy Spirit what can we do in the power of the Holy Spirit – with which we have all been gifted at our baptism? Instead of talking about will power, about resisting temptation what if we,Iike Jesus were willing and able to dig deeply into the divine power that dwells within us. If, rather than trying to ‘be strong’ in the face of temptation we were to rely on a deep knowledge of scripture that was informed by a deep trust in and an intimate relationship with God? What if, instead of trying to face the world alone, we faced the world and all its attendant difficulties in the power of our godly nature.

As Athanasius tells us: “Jesus became human that we might become gods.” Jesus’ Incarnation is intended to reveal to us our true selves – bearers of the divine in human flesh. What distinguishes Jesus from us is that in Jesus the divine and the human are fully integrated. His human nature did not make him less divine and his divine nature did not make him less human. One aspect of his nature does not negate or overshadow the other and neither does one despise and distrust the other, but both – human and divine -are integral to Jesus’ wholeness/holiness. Jesus the human was really hungry and after 40 days without food or company was probably weak and vulnerable, if not a tad grumpy. Jesus did not abandon or suppress his humanity in the desert. He accepted the frailty associated with being human but he didn’t allow that frailty to overwhelm him or to disappoint him. He holds his dual nature together in a way that many of us do not.

Jesus’ response to the devil is one of confidence and strength. He has not rejected and nor does he despise his physical needs or his earthly desires. He feels no shame at being hungry enough to want to make bread from stones. He is not weighed down by guilt at the thought that he has considered taking a short cut to glory. He is does not want to hide the fact that for a moment he wanted to test God’s love for him. And because he has not created a division between the two aspects of his being he can draw on the spiritual at the same time as he is recognising and accepting the human.

Jesus’ victory, if we can call it that, in the desert is not the final word. It is not as if having overcome these temptations he has subdued his human nature once and for all allowing his divine nature to be the face that the world sees. Luke makes it clear that Jesus’ humanity has not been “overcome” or “abandoned”. Not only does he not have the last word but the devil has only : “left him till an opportune time.” It is not over. Jesus is still human and there will be times when that is more obvious than at others (when he overturns the tables in the temple, when he gets tired or exasperated, when he weeps at the tomb of Lazarus, when he relaxes and allows Mary to wipe his feet with her hair). Jesus will agonize in the garden and cry out in despair from the cross. His humanity is evident until the very end.

Our problem is that we have difficulty acknowledging the divinity that is our birth right and, if we do, we waste a. great deal of time trying to separate the two parts of ourselves – suppressing and rejecting the human while not really believing in the divine. We tend to idealise the spiritual and demonize the physical to the extent that we simply cannot accept that both are equally a part of us, that both reveal something about our God-given nature. Temptation, we believe, is something that happens to our unholy human selves and therefore it is our unholy selves that we enlist to resist and fight temptation. We try to subdue what comes naturally and when we fail we further demonise our human nature thereby driving an even bigger wedge between our two natures. In rejecting one part of who we are, we unwittingly reject both.

What Jesus demonstrates both in his encounter with the devil and in his life as a whole is that our divine nature does not have to be split off from our human nature. We don’t have to reject our fleshly, messy humanness in order to be spiritual, holy or divine. We don’t have to change ourselves or mold ourselves the sort of ideal person we have convinced ourselves that God wants or expects us to be. There is no need to sever or, at the very least bury those parts of ourselves that we are afraid that God will find unacceptable for when we do we demonstrate that we despise and reject what God has created, we reveal our lack of faith in God’s boundless love for us and we make it impossible for us to be fully integrated human beings created in the image of God.

In Jesus, God became one of us, demonstrating once and for all, that God does not despise human nature, reject its frailties or feel the need to suppress its physical, emotional and psychological desires and that being human does not make one any less godly. In Jesus, God shows us how the holy and “unholy” can be one as indeed they were intended to be. Through Jesus God challenges us to connect with the ground of our being, the source of life and love and to become wholly whole, holy whole.

This Lent, can we do this – free ourselves from fear, accept who we are and allow the divine within us to make us whole and holy?

Jesus and snakes

March 13, 2021

Lent 4 – 2021

John 3:14-21

Marian Free

In the name of God who gives us victory over death. Amen.

I am one of those people for whom vaccines of some sort have always been a part of my life. Apparently, I received a polio vaccine before I was six weeks old so that my mother could accompany my father to Nigeria and not face the trip alone with a newborn baby. I can still remember lining up at the City Hall to receive a free jab for something or other and the nurses who came to the school to inoculate us against something else – probably tetanus. In retrospect, my generation had a lot of needles. Still, unlike my children, I was not vaccinated against measles, chicken pox and rubella so I caught the first two though not the third. The parents of my generation had their own system of immunisation. If someone in the neighbourhood had measles, instead of being kept away we were encouraged to visit – the idea being that it was much better have these illnesses when we were young and to develop an immunity to them than to risk having them when we were adults when the disease might make us seriously unwell.

At last, the vaccine for COVID is being rolled out. President Biden has claimed that most Americans will have received their shots by Independence Day. In the UK my friends and family have all had at least one shot and even if the roll out is slower than anticipated, Australians are receiving their first does of the vaccine.

Vaccination is counter intuitive. In order to be protected against disease, we are injected with that very disease. It all began smallpox. Smallpox was incredibly infectious and out of every ten people infected with the disease three people died. Those who survived were often badly scarred. In 1796 Dr Edward Jenner noticed that milkmaids who had had cowpox did not subsequently become ill when exposed to smallpox. He experimented by taking a sample from a cow pox sore and inoculating it into the arm of the son of his gardener – James Phipps. After some time, he exposed James (on several occasions) to the smallpox virus, but James did not get ill with the disease. Dr Jenner’s methods might appal us today and they certainly would not pass the medical ethics test, but his discovery has helped us to almost eradicate polio, smallpox, measles, mumps and chicken pox. Diseases that used to strike fear into the hearts of parents are, so long as we are vigilant, a thing of the past.

We have become much more sophisticated and more ethical than Dr Jenner. When it comes to COVID for example, we are not actually injected with the virus but, as I understand it, we are inoculated with components of the virus which enable our body to recognise it and to fight it[1]. When it comes to fighting disease then, very often like cures like, the virus in effect fights against itself.

Today’s readings are complex, and sadly we don’t have time to explore why God sends snakes, or why, instead of providing the cure, God didn’t simply stop the snakes. Whatever lay behind God’s actions, the idea of the image of a snake being the cure for a snake bite is almost contemporary. It resonates with the modern science of a virus being used to cure a virus. Just as the snakes did not disappear, but that looking at the snake stopped people dying, so, while the virus will not disappear, we, once vaccinated, should not die from it.

So much for the snakes in the desert – but what about Jesus? As part of his discussion with Nicodemus, Jesus compares himself to the bronze serpent lifted up by Moses. “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up,” he says. It is a difficult image to grasp. In what way do Jesus’ contemporaries resemble the Israelites in the desert, and how does Jesus’ being lifted up on the cross bear any similarity to a bronze serpent on a pole? Jesus and a serpent have nothing in common.

To understand Jesus’ imagery, we have to first of all understand that according to the author of John’s gospel, it is on the cross that Jesus’ victory over death occurs. The cross is the key to eternal life, to Jesus’ being recognised and to Jesus’ drawing all people to himself. (3:14, 8:28 and 12:32). In the fourth gospel the cross does not represent defeat, but triumph. It is Jesus’ willingness to die that allows him to conquer death. The resurrection is important, but there can be no resurrection, no life after death, unless Jesus dies – really dies. Jesus experiences death in order to overcome death. Jesus’ death is the cure for our death, just as the bronze serpent was the cure for the Israelite’s snake bite. Jesus’ death not only inoculates him against death, but his victory over death inoculates each one of us against eternal death.

Jesus has been lifted up. He was displayed on the cross – so that all could see him and seeing him, believe and believing, have eternal life. Death has not been entirely vanquished, but it no longer has dominion over us, it is no longer something to be feared because we know that death is not the end of the story.

Jesus has been lifted up – just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness – to show us that death will not have the last word. Jesus has conquered death and so long as we hold his death before us, we can be sure that we will share in his victory over death.


[1] For an explanation go to the Centres for Disease Control and Prevention

https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/vaccines/different-vaccines/how-they-work.html?CDC_AA_refVal=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.cdc.gov%2Fcoronavirus%2F2019-ncov%2Fvaccines%2Fabout-vaccines%2Fhow-they-work.html


Angry enough to do something?

March 6, 2021

Lent 3 – 2021

John 2:13-22

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to do justice, love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God. Amen.

On Friday I attended the UN Women’s International Women’s Day lunch. It was an inspiring, if somewhat gruelling experience – especially in the light of recent events. Australian of the Year, Grace Tame was the key speaker. I imagine by now that most of you know at least the outline of her story. Grace is a powerful and direct speaker, and she doesn’t spare her audience the intimate details of her ordeal. Sadly, her story is not unique, but even if you have heard other stories of abuse, you cannot help but be shocked and brought to tears as she recounts the way in which a much older man, a teacher in a position of trust, targeted her at her most vulnerable and manipulated her to the point where she felt utterly unable to refuse his sexual advances. How, in this day and age, could this man’s behaviour – in his office, on school grounds – go unnoticed? Why, in a world sensitised to child sex abuse, did no one notice or think to question what was going on? 

Equally shocking and revelatory was the speech by Dr Kirstin Ferguson who, at the beginning of her presentation provided a dramatic, visual illustration of the prevalence of sexual harassment in the workplace.  Before she began, Dr Ferguson asked those in attendance (men and women) to stand if they had ever experienced sexual harassment at work. At least two thirds of the room rose to their feet – two thirds of a room filled with professional people. Dr Ferguson went on to tell us that 1,600 hundred women a week, experience some sort of sexual harassment at work. 

Listening to the two women was a salutary and sobering experience.

What does it say about our society that a fifteen-year-old girl can be raped every day at school – in the office of a 58-year-old teacher? Who are we that one woman dies every week at the hands of someone who professes to love her? How is it that our aged care system is so broken that vulnerable older people are over-medicated, mistreated and badly fed? Why is that we cannot assume that our workplaces and schools are safe and nurturing environments? Why can’t we keep our children safe from abuse? 

Something at the very heart of human nature is broken. Countless Royal Commissions and changes to legislation have been powerless to bring about the institutional change that is required so that all people can live and work with dignity. More importantly, no amount of legislation has been able to bring about the personal transformation that is required to build a society in which all the vulnerable are protected and nurtured – not abused or exploited.

In today’s gospel Jesus is angry, very angry. He is angry that the Temple (or at least its forecourt) has been turned into a marketplace. He is angry because he can see the way in which Temple practices exploit the poor, take advantage of the vulnerable and exclude those who cannot take part in the Jewish rituals. 

This event is the most explicit description of Jesus’ anger. It is the moment at which all his frustration and rage reaches boiling point – resulting in his fashioning a whip so that he can drive traders and animals from the Temple and overthrowing tables covered with money. It is the most explicit expression of Jesus’ anger, but it is not the only time that he gets angry.

We know that Jesus got angry at the hypocrisy of the Pharisees, at the indifference of the rich towards the poor and at the apathy of the comfortable towards those who were suffering. Jesus got angry when he saw the religious leaders put the law before compassion while congratulating themselves on their own state of righteousness. Jesus got angry at the complacency, self-satisfaction and judgementalism of those who thought themselves better than sinners, prostitutes and tax collectors. Jesus got angry with those who put burdens on the shoulders of others and who created barriers which prevented them from seeing how much God loved them.  Jesus got angry at the failure of the disciples to understand, at their desire for power and at their belief that they should be rewarded for joining his cause. 

Most importantly, Jesus got angry because the religious institution of his day was broken. Despite John’s call to repentance nothing had changed. Jesus’ contemporaries still believed that the outward practices of sacrifice and ritual were sufficient. Jesus could see that what was really needed was a change of heart, repentance and personal transformation – all of which are much more difficult to achieve than simply presenting a semblance of goodness, observing rituals or consoling oneself with the knowledge that at least one is not as bad as the next person.    

Jesus got angry at injustice and suffering, at pretention and arrogance, at self-serving behaviour and at the refusal to take responsibility for one’s behaviour. Jesus got angry at indifference and inaction. 

Jesus saw a broken world. His grief and angry at what he saw spurred him into action. 

We live in a broken and damaged world, but do we get angry? Do we get angry enough about the exploitation of the poor, the disenfranchised or the refugee? Do we voice our anger loudly enough with regard to people trafficking and slavery? Do we speak out loudly enough against violence towards women or the abuse of children? Do we protest strongly enough about the neglect and abuse of the elderly or the destruction of indigenous sacred sites? Do we rage against injustice, corporate greed and the destruction of the planet? Do we rail against indifference and carelessness? Do we care enough to do something about what we see?

Our world is broken and needs from each of us a change of heart. When will we be angry enough to take action? 

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In the name of God who calls us to do justice, love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God. Amen.

Equally shocking and revelatory was the speech by Dr Kirstin Ferguson who, at the beginning of her presentation provided a dramatic, visual illustration of the prevalence of sexual harassment in the workplace.  Before she began, Dr Ferguson asked those in attendance (men and women) to stand if they had ever experienced sexual harassment at work. At least two thirds of the room rose to their feet – two thirds of a room filled with professionals. Dr Ferguson went on to tell us that 1,600 hundred women a week, experience some sort of sexual harassment at work. 

Listening to the two women was a salutary and sobering experience.

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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!