Archive for the ‘Lent’ Category

Children of God, beloved and special

February 17, 2018

Lent 1 – 2018

Mark 1:9-15

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who strengthens us and equips us for all the good and the bad that we might be asked to face. Amen.

Did you notice something missing from today’s gospel? You might have been expecting to hear the details of the three temptations – turning stones into bread, jumping off a cliff and worshipping Satan. These specific details of Jesus’ time in the wilderness (listed by both Luke and Matthew) are missing in Mark’s gospel. They are apparently of little consequence for Mark as he pushes on to reveal Jesus as the Son of God. Probably because Mark’s account is so stark, the lectionary writers have included Jesus’ baptism in today’s gospel. This creates an interesting juxtaposition: baptism followed by temptation, public repentance followed by private battles within, a declaration that Jesus is the Son of God, followed by Jesus being driven into the wilderness.

If we read the account of the baptism on its own without understanding the consequences it becomes a wonderful affirmation of Jesus. Though Jesus alone sees and hears, the events that accompany Jesus’ baptism are quite extraordinary. The heavens are literally torn apart, the Spirit descends as if a dove and Jesus hears the voice of God from heaven: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” It must have been both an inspiring and terrifying moment. Jesus heard God assuring him that he was doing the right thing and that his relationship with God was of the highest order, Father and Son.

Why then does the Spirit (note: not the devil) immediately drive Jesus out into the wilderness – that godless, inhospitable and unforgiving place – to be tempted by Satan and threatened by wild animals? To experience both physical and spiritual adversity? At first sight, it seems to be back-to-front. Doesn’t it make more sense that Jesus would want to repent after a time of reflection and temptation? Doesn’t make more sense for Jesus to be tested before God tears apart the heavens and sends the Spirit upon him? Doesn’t it seem that it would be more prudent for God to have been certain that Jesus was ready the task before he took the radical step of affirming him as God’s Son? I wonder, what would have happened if Jesus had failed the test? Could God take the Son thing back?

Two things help us to make sense of the order of events as they are presented. The first is the parallel between Jesus’ experience and that of Israel. Before God led the people of Israel out of Egypt into the wilderness, God declared that Israel was God’s Son. God thus affirmed the status of Israel and, through the cloud and the fiery pillar, God provided proof that God would provide for them and would never desert them. Yet, despite such assurance, Israel grumbled against God and relied on their own resources to the extent of making their own gods thus demonstrating that they had little to no faith in God’s promises.

When Jesus is declared to be God’s Son and led into the wilderness he places his trust entirely in God, he refuses to rely on his own resources or to put God to the test. As a result Jesus is able to withstand the privations of the desert and as a result is “ministered to by the angels”. Jesus did what Israel could not – he believed not that God would spare him from trouble, but that when trouble came his way he could rely on God to provide the strength to see him through.

We better understand the order of events when we remember that throughout Jesus’ ministry, he will face hostility and opposition – from demons, from the authorities, from his family and even from his disciples. Jesus’ journey, once begun, will lead only to suffering and the cross. At Jesus’ baptism then, God gives Jesus the resources that he will need for whatever lies ahead – the absolute assurance that he is God’s Son and the implied assurance that, whatever lies ahead, God will be with him. The wilderness is a sign of what is to come. Jesus begins his ministry with the endorsement of God’s love and approval ringing in his ears – an endorsement that sustains him in the wilderness and throughout the challenges and threats that dog his ministry.

At our Baptism we are told: “the promises of God are signed and sealed for us.” And we are assured of the gift of the Holy Spirit. These are not empty words, but gifts to sustain us through thick and thin. They are gifts that assure us that God will be with us every step of the way: sustaining us, encouraging us and equipping us to face whatever dangers, griefs or hardships that might come our way.

Lent, our time in the wilderness, need not be a time of self-flagellation, a time of reminding ourselves how far we fall short or a time of stressing about what we need to do to be holier or kinder, more loving or more patient. Lent can be a time of letting go, a time for reminding ourselves that we can place our trust completely in God, that we can rely on God to be there in our times of need and that we can trust God to hold us up when we feel that we can go no further.

No one can predict what life will throw at us. The question is not whether we will have wilderness experiences, but whether our confidence in God is sufficient to see us through. May this Lent be for us all a time to renew our trust in God, to make peace with the lives that we have and to believe that whatever happens God has, waiting for us, an eternity that is beyond our capacity to imagine.

So easy it seems hard

April 1, 2017

Lent 5 – 2017

John 11:1-45

Marian Free

In the name of God who love us beyond our wildest imagining. Amen.

“If only” must be among the saddest words in the English language. They express regret, disappointment, a certain dissatisfaction with the way things are and a yearning for things to be different. They suggest an unwillingness to accept that life is beyond our control and that it includes the good and the bad. They represent a failure to live in the present and a striving for what is probably an unrealistic and ideal future. Or, as in the case of today’s gospel, “if only” expresses a desire that God would behave in the way that we expect.

There are, as is often the case with John’s gospel, a number of things going on in today’s gospel. Jesus’ life is in danger. The Pharisees have been trying to stone him, which means that for Jesus to be anywhere in Judea, let alone near Jerusalem, is extremely dangerous. According to John Jesus makes three trips to Jerusalem. Apparently while there he chooses to say with his friends, Martha, Mary and Lazarus, whose home in Bethany is only a couple of miles from the city. The siblings are more than friends with Jesus. They share an intimacy that would allow Mary to anoint Jesus’ feet and to wipe them with her hair, and that gives the women courage to tell Jesus that “the one whom you love is ill.” Not only are they close friends, but Martha and Mary have confidence in Jesus’ ability to bring about healing.

When Lazarus becomes ill, they send a message to Jesus, but Jesus doesn’t come. The sisters don’t have the advantage that we have. They don’t hear Jesus’ discussion with the disciples. What they know is that a friend who loves them not only doesn’t come, but fails to even to send a word to explain the delay. One imagines that the sisters are disappointed and confused by Jesus’ behaviour. His failure to honor their friendship and to come to their aid must have taken them by surprise.

No wonder both women reproach him when, long after Lazarus has died, Jesus finally turns up. “Lord if only you had been here our brother would not have died,” they say. We could have been saved this trouble and this grief – “if only you had been here.” Their confidence in Jesus’ ability to heal is unchanged. They simply do not understand why he would choose not to save their brother.

The reaction of the women is often overshadowed by the miracle of the raising of Lazarus, or overlooked because of Martha’s declaration that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, but it is important to notice the reproach and to recognise that, despite their friendship and love, the women are not afraid to let Jesus know that they feel he has let them down. It is probably because the sisters know Jesus so well that they feel free to tell him just what they think.

Both the Old Testament and the New are populated with real people who have real feelings and real failings, both of which are essential to their relationship with God. When we read the bible we don’t get the sense that the various characters on the pages are trying to be something that they are not. We are not given the impression that if a person is less than perfect that God will have nothing to do with them. We learn that from Abraham to Martha and Mary, those who are close to God, those who have a strong relationship with God have no problem in either being themselves or in letting God know exactly what they think. Abraham takes God on when God threatens to destroy Sodom, Moses suggests that God will look foolish in the eyes of the nations if God destroys Israel, the woman at the well was not afraid to tell Jesus that it was the Samaritans, not the Jews, who were the true believers, and Martha and Mary have no qualms in greeting Jesus with a reproach.

These characters have one thing in common – an open and honest relationship with God/Jesus – a relationship in which they are not afraid to tell God/Jesus exactly how they feel, in which they are comfortable to have their doubt and uncertainty, their frustration and disappointment exposed for all to see. They didn’t care if they appeared foolish or uncertain and they had no problem letting God/Jesus know just what they thought. When they were face-to-face with God/Jesus, they were not overcome with embarrassment, self-consciousness or shame. They were comfortable enough in their relationship with Jesus to have their flaws and doubts laid bare.

Over the past four weeks we have met characters who, in conventional terms have been anything but model Christians, let alone perfect human beings. Nicodemus is timid and uncertain, the woman at the well had had five husbands, the blind man came to faith only in stages and Mary and Martha reproached Jesus for being late. During this time, we have observed people who were not confident that Jesus was who he said he was, whose self-interest led them to misunderstand what he said, who took their healing for granted and who scolded Jesus for not responding in a timely manner.

We learn from these characters that if we want our relationship with God/Jesus to grow, it is important that we are completely honest – about ourselves (our strengths as well as our weaknesses), about our questions, our doubts and yes, even about our anger and disappointment. We can take the lead from those in the bigger story that it is not only OK, but that it is healthy to enter into debate with God, to voice our concerns and express our frustration. Our relationship with God is like any other relationship. It cannot grow if there is dishonesty, fear and anxiety, but only if there is openness, respect and trust.

My hope is that this Lent you have learned something of God’s boundless love for you, that you have gained confidence to be yourselves – knowing that God’s love will not be withdrawn – and that you understand that the best relationship with God is one that is honest and true, one in which nothing is hidden and in which we are so sure of our place in God’s love that we are not afraid to let God know what we think, to ask the difficult questions and even, as did Martha and Mary to question God’s reaction (or lack of action) in regard to issues that we think are important.

Being a Christian has nothing to do with being good and everything to do with being in a relationship with God – Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier. It is only because it is so easy that it sometimes seems so hard

There are none so blind as those who will not see

March 25, 2017

Lent 4 – 2017

John 9:1-41

Marian Free

In the name of God who opens our eyes so we might know God. Amen.

By and large people believe what they want to believe – often despite evidence to the contrary. At least 10 years ago, Andrew Denton produced a documentary called: “God is on our side”. It was a report of a conference that is held annually in the Southern States of the USA. I found it all rather disconcerting. A major part of the gathering was the marketing of Christian artifacts books, pictures and movies a central theme of which was the “rapture” the belief that when Christ returns the dead who are to be raised, will join the living in a rapturous ascent to heaven, while everyone else is thrown into hell. Most frightening however, was the preacher who was addressing an auditorium filled with at something like 5-10,000 people and who proclaimed Cold War style that Russia intended to invade Israel. Those who attended were lapping up this out-dated and fear-inspiring version of the state of the world as if it were real. Books that supported the preacher’s argument were available for sale, reinforcing the “truth” of the matter. For those who accepted his authority, his reality became their reality.

Social media promised to make the facts more readily available to more people. It is increasingly evident that social media can be employed equally effectively to promote “fake” news. Many people who have no other source of information will believe what they are told, or what they read – especially if it is on the news, in the newspapers or spoken by someone in a position of authority.

As the old proverb goes: “There are none so blind as those that will not see.”

There are several layers of blindness in today’s gospel – the physical blindness of the man who is healed and the metaphorical blindness of almost every one else in the story. The disciples are blinded by tradition or folklore – physical deformity is evidence of sin. The man’s neighbours are blinded by the information that they currently have – the man whom they knew was blind – the man in front of them is not – he cannot be the same person. The Pharisees are blinded by their fear of change, and their desire for power. If people are allowed to believe that Jesus comes from God, their influence will be severely diminished. Finally, the parent’s of the once-blind man are blinded by the anxiety that if they claim to understand their son’s healing, they will be thrown out of the synagogue. Even the man born blind takes some time to fully comprehend the implications of receiving his sight.

The story of the man born blind takes a long circuitous route. He does not come to Jesus seeking to be healed. In fact it is only because the disciples ask Jesus about him that Jesus restores his sight. There is no suggestion that the man had faith, nor that his cure led to faith or caused others to believe. Not is there any suggestion that the man is surprised. He appears to take his newfound sight for granted. Those who knew him are surprised, so surprised in fact that they refuse to believe that it is the same man whom they knew as a beggar. The Pharisees on the other hand are threatened by Jesus’ power. They try to persuade the man that Jesus cannot possibly be from God implying that his power comes from elsewhere. Their antagonism has the opposite effect from that which they intended. Their assault on the once blind man and their disapproval of Jesus pushes the blind man to think about what has happened and to come to his own conclusion about Jesus – surely he is a prophet. In the face of such negativity, the man begins to understand the implications of his healing. It was not a random event but had a purpose and a meaning. Not only has the man received his physical sight, he is gaining insight and coming to faith.

When the Pharisees fail to intimidate the man, they take on his parents. Unlike the neighbours they recognise and own the man as their son, but they refuse to enter into any debate as to the person who healed him. To suggest that Jesus is from God would lead to their being thrown out of the synagogue. Finally the Pharisees attack the blind man one more time and when he refuses to give up what he has learned they throw him out of the synagogue. It is only then that Jesus seeks him out and reveals himself to him.

Over the course of the story, the man’s sight and his insight have been gradually sharpened. Despite opposition, he has held on to his sense of self, discerned the self-interest that led to the false teaching and the blindness of the Pharisees and has gradually discovered that Jesus the healer, is Jesus the prophet, is Jesus the Son of Man. He has learned the truth about Jesus because he was not bound by tradition, limited by what he thought he knew, not determined to maintain his place in the world and not imprisoned by the fear of what others might do to him. His openness to the truth gave him courage to hold his ground in the face of opposition and his willingness to learn brought him to faith. He has gained his sight in more ways than one.

As today’s gospel illustrates, God is patient. God will reveal the truth at a pace at which we are able to grasp it. God will give us courage to stand against those who would mislead and confuse us and will in time bring us to fullness of faith.

Lent is love. God’s story includes the timid, the questioning and those who come to believe one step at a time. No matter what holds us back – “fear or doubt or habit”[1] God will open our eyes and give us time and space to find our way to the truth and to take our place in the story that is without beginning or end.

 

 

[1] To quote hymn writer Elizabeth Smith.

Dignity and worth

March 18, 2017
Chester Cathedral

Jesus and the woman at the well.

Lent 3 – 2017

John 4

Marian Free

 

In the name of God in whose eyes we have infinite worth, no matter what our life-style, our choices or our achievements. Amen.

During the week I read the extraordinary story of Bhenwari Devi an Indian woman from a low-caste potter Kumhar community. In 1992, at dusk, while Bhenwari and her husband were working in the fields, five men from the higher Gujjri caste (the most affluent and influential in her village) attacked them both. Two of the men attacked her husband and restrained him, the other three took turns in raping Bhenwari. As the news over the past year has informed us such attacks are not unusual. In India women and girls of a lower caste and especially untouchable women and girls are often raped and sometimes killed by those who come from a higher caste background, sometimes in retaliation for a perceived slight, and sometimes just because they are there. The shame and stigma associated with sexual crimes make it difficult for women such as Bhenwari to speak about their experience or to seek justice. Their gender and their lowly position in society only serve to exacerbate the situation.

When Bhenwari reported the rape, she was accused of lying. Her assailants told police that there had been a dispute but that the pair were not attacked. The police did not take the assault seriously, did not give her a thorough examination until the next day and ignored her cuts and bruises. Because she reported the crime, Bhenwari was seen to have brought shame on her community. She and her husband were shunned by their neighbours, who would not sell them milk or buy their pots. Their own families did not invite them to family weddings. For twenty-one years Bhenwari took her battle to the courts and while justice may have eluded her, her case has seen the government introduce legislation to prevent further such cases.

I’ll leave you to read the rest of the story for yourself[1].

It can be difficult for someone to hold their ground in the face of so much opposition, especially when they feel disadvantaged by gender, race, creed or their position in society. Even in relatively affluent and educated countries such as our own, there are those whose voices are more respected and those whose opinions hold little to no weight – the poor, those with a disability, victims of domestic violence to mention just a few. It takes courage and confidence to refuse to let such factors be a reason to stay silent.

In today’s gospel we meet a woman who would not be silenced. Like many of the New Testament characters, the “woman at the well” has no name. Never the less we know a great deal about her. This woman is triply disadvantaged. She is a member of the despised Samaritans, she is female and, probably because of her sexual activity, she is ostracised by her community – (which is why she is at the well in the middle of the day). Coming to the well at this time allows her to escape the censure and derision that would be levelled at her if she came earlier when most of the villagers would be gathering water for their families.

On this particular day though she cannot avoid Jesus. Jesus ignores all the social norms that would prevent him from speaking to the woman and he asks her for a drink. The woman is shocked, but not overwhelmed. She challenges Jesus: “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” As the conversation continues the woman refuses to let her cultural disadvantages hold her back. She questions Jesus, confronts him on questions of faith (where one should worship) and finally is so convinced that Jesus is the Christ that she convinces her fellow villagers – those who despise and condemn her – not only to believe in Jesus but to persuade him to delay his journey for two more days.

Bhenwari and the woman at the well are examples of people who, despite their disadvantages, their place in society and the ostracism by their communities have been able to maintain a sense of self-worth and a sense of dignity. Jesus doesn’t see race, gender, religion or morality. He sees a worthy debating partner. Despite their circumstances and their standing within their own communities, the woman at the well and Bhenwari have a strong sense of their own worth and refuse to be cowed and intimidated, by those who would shame, condemn and exclude them.

We, of all people, should know our own worth. After all, didn’t Jesus die for us proving once for all God’s boundless, unconditional love and that we are worthy of that love?

Lent is love. The unbelieving, timid Nicodemus is given a place in God’s story and the despised and ostracised Samaritan woman is given a voice. The stories of their encounters with Jesus remind us that there is no standard that we have to reach to take our own place in the story of God’s interaction with God’s people. It remains for us to believe in God’s love for ourselves, which in turn enables us to believe in ourselves and to understand that if God overlooks our shortcomings, then we also ought to overlook our shortcomings. Above all, it means that God’s opinion of us matters more than the opinion of those around us and that we should not allow our lives or our faith to be determined or limited by self-doubt , by our position in the world or by the attitudes of others.

 

 

 

 

 

[1] http://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-39265653

Imperfect though we are, we are part of God’s story

March 11, 2017

Lent 2 – 2017

John 3:1-17

Marian Free

In the name of God overlooks all our shortcomings and believes that we have the potential to develop and grow. Amen.

As I said at Rodney’s farewell, none of us will forget Christina the Astonishing – who rose from her coffin and ascended to the ceiling of the church because she couldn’t stand the stench of human sin. Our hagiographies (our stories of saints) are filled with examples of apparently ordinary people who do extraordinary things or who bravely endure unbearable suffering. Think of Joan of Arc who not only led the armies of France in the 100 year war against England, but who with great courage faced being burned at the stake for heresy. Or of Francis of Assisi who gave up comfort, wealth and security to live a life of poverty. Or of Catherine of Alexander whose torture on a cartwheel gave the name to a whirling firework.

In our own time we have the examples of Mother Teresa who gave up everything and who untiringly worked with and for the poor and abandoned on the streets of India. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who saw the evil of the Third Reich and chose to risk his life to confront it. May Hayman and other New Guinea martyrs who chose to stay with their communities in the face of the Japanese advance in WWII rather than return home. Or Janani Luwum who was murdered by Idi Amin simply because he was an Anglican Archbishop.

While some of us might aspire to reach such exalted heights or believe that if it came to it that we would be prepared to give ourselves, our lives for our faith, most of us I suspect do not think that we will come anywhere near the deeds and courage of these and many other holy men and women.

The good news is that we do not have to be perfect to be part of God’s on-going story. We will encounter a number of characters during Lent who will prove that to be true. Nicodemus who is too afraid to meet Jesus openly, the woman who has had five husbands, the parents of the blind man, and the sisters of Lazarus who thought that Jesus had left his visit too late. These flawed, timid, unbelieving people have made it into the story of Jesus, into our Holy Scriptures despite, or perhaps because they are not perfect.

In John’s gospel Nicodemus is the first flawed person whom we meet. He is a leader of the Pharisees – a member of that sect within Judaism that placed weight on the oral tradition when it came to the interpretation of the law. There is a great deal of ambiguity in the account of the encounter between Jesus and Nicodemus, but a few things stand out. In John’s gospel, the Pharisees are depicted as the enemies of Jesus. Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night that is at a time when no one can see him. We can’t be sure if this is because he is curious, or afraid or whether he has come to challenge or outsmart Jesus on a point of law or to learn from him. What we do know is that Jesus doesn’t turn his back.

Another element to the story is the imagery of night and darkness both of which are important symbols for the author of John’s gospel. If we read to the end of the chapter this becomes blatantly clear. Jesus says: “All who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed.” (3:21) In John’s gospel as elsewhere night symbolises “unbelief or the wrong kind of belief” and darkness (the opposite of light) represents the forces that oppose Jesus.

That Nicodemus comes at night suggests that he opposes Jesus or at the very least is an unbeliever. Apparently, he cannot see beyond the superficial, he is blinded by what he thinks he knows. He is stuck , he knows that there is something different about Jesus but his own training and expectations do not allow him to see what it is ,nor do they allow him to really comprehend what Jesus is saying.

This does not mean that Jesus rejects him or refuses to speak to him. Jesus sees not the timorous, unbelieving Nicodemus, but the potential for growth and understanding. The double meanings in Jesus’ conversation are intended to open Nicodemus’ eyes, to help him to see the distinction between the purely earthly and the spiritual. Like all of us, Nicodemus can choose to turn his life over to Jesus, to begin on a fresh page, to enter into a spiritual existence. Jesus does not judge or condemn Nicodemus, he does not refuse to engage in conversation and most importantly he does not dismiss or deride him, instead Jesus gives him the opportunity to see the world from another point of view.

Jesus does not reject or dismiss Nicodemus and we can be sure that he will not reject or dismiss us.

Last week we learned that love liberates us to be truly ourselves. Today we discover that we do not have to be perfect to be a part of God’s story. When we know that we do not have to be flawless we are set free to accept ourselves as we really are. If we accept who we really are, we can be authentic, stop pretending and recognise that we have nothing to hide. This in turn will enable us to let go of feelings of inadequacy or a lack of self-worth. We will discover that this in itself is healing and will create a more honest and open relationship with God that will deepen our faith and lead to our being born from above..

Love sets us free

March 4, 2017

Lent 1 – 2017

Matthew 4:1-11

Marian Free

Lent is Love

             Lent is Love

In the name of God whose love sets us free to be truly ourselves, to grow and to flourish and, in our turn, to love others. Amen.

St Ignatius of Loyola is well-known as the founder of the Jesuits. When he was thirty years old Ignatius, then a soldier, was hit in the legs by a cannon ball. His right leg was wounded and his left severely fractured. As a result of these injuries, Ignatius was forced to spend a considerable amount of time confined to bed. During this time of enforced rest, Ignatius came to faith and decided to devote his life to God. It was then too that he wrote his spiritual exercises – a form of discipline that was designed to assist those who undertook them to develop an understanding of the relationship with God that would enable them to live out that relationship.

The exercises are designed to be completed over a thirty-day period under the guidance of a spiritual director. They are too complex to be described here, but there are two simple elements that can enhance our own spiritual journeys – even if we never find thirty days to complete the retreat ourselves. The first is the attitude that a participant is asked to adopt before they begin. You might like to try it now. With your eyes open or shut, try to imagine God looking at you with complete and unconditional love. Sit with that feeling, allow the love to wash over you, accept that you are perfectly loveable and that you are unimaginably precious to God. Were you able to do it? How did you feel?

My experience is that this is an extraordinarily powerful, liberating and affirming practice. It is very simple and it is something  that we can do every single day as a reminder of just how much you are loved and treasured by God.

All of our spiritual disciplines should begin from this place – with the assurance of God’s love for us. God doesn’t make impossible demands. God doesn’t insist that we mortify ourselves or that we achieve unattainable standards. God simply loves us and we respond to that love by trying to be worthy of that love and by being the best that we can.

As we respond to God’s love, a second Ignatian practice helps us to develop and to grow in faith and in our practice of our faith. This is the practice known as examen or self-review. There are slight variations as to how this is done, so you might like to check them out to see if one suits you better than another. Examen is an exercise that is done at the end of the day. It requires at least five to ten minutes. There are a number of steps in the process. The first is to recall in some detail what you have done during the day. Then, after asking the Holy Spirit to be your guide, you look over the day a second time, seeing it with God’s eyes and considering whether there were times when you could have done better – been kinder, more patient or less intolerant for example. Having identified something that you’d like to change, you ask for God’s help in making that change. Finally, you offer thanks to God for God’s presence during the day.

Examen does not imply judgement, nor does it expect that we will feel that we have failed. Instead, for those who find it useful, it is a way to be open and honest about ourselves in an environment that we know to be utterly safe, because we know that whatever we do or have done, God’s love will never be withdrawn.

Love, as I’m sure you know, is a much more powerful tool for change than censure or fear. Knowing ourselves loved gives us confidence to be our selves  – even if that self is flawed and damaged. Knowing ourselves loved gives us the freedom to take risks and the courage to confess. Knowing ourselves loved allows us to stand tall and proud and to believe in ourselves. Knowing ourselves loved enables us to soar to even greater heights.

When Jesus was baptised, he came out of the water to hear a voice from heaven saying: “This is my Son the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased (or in whom I delight).” To our knowledge, Jesus has done nothing at this point to warrant those words, he hasn’t begun his mission or done anything out of the ordinary. Yet the voice from heaven makes it clear that God loves Jesus just as he is at that very moment.  Jesus was overwhelmed – he took time (forty days) to process that love and affirmation and to consider what it meant. God’s love empowered Jesus to teach and to heal, to love and to make whole, to challenge the structures of the church and to raise up the marginalised, and above all to trust God with his very life.

God’s love empowers us to be all that we can be, and so much more. This Lent, may we know ourselves loved, give ourselves permission to be ourselves, and from a position of confidence strive to  live into the person whom God believes us to be. Amen.

A matter of love

March 19, 2016

Palm Sunday – 2016

Luke 22: -23:

Marian Free

 

A matter of love

May God whose love for us knows no bounds, free us from all those things that prevent us from accepting that love. Amen.

Love is an extraordinary motivator. It can enable people to go to extraordinary lengths to make a difference for those whom they love. Parents of children with severe handicaps invest hours of their time and all their financial resources to not only ensure that their child has the best quality of life that is possible, but also to defy the medical staff who have advised them that the child has no future. Siblings of cancer sufferers cycle around Australia or complete other such feats to raise awareness of the disease and raise funds for research. Husbands or wives refuse to turn off life support machines, believing that the one whom they love has a future.

The love and determination of a spouse means not only the difference between life and death, but also the difference between simply being alive and having some quality of life.  Only last week I read the account of a young woman Danielle. At just 23[1] Danielle had married the love of her life. Only months later her husband, Matt he seriously injured in a cycling accident. As well as numerous fractures, he had sustained a serious traumatic brain injury. A team of doctors advised Danielle to turn off his life support.

Danielle trusted the doctors and thought she would agree to end Matt’s life. After a sleepless night she thought: “Matt is my husband. If he stays in a coma, of if he needs looking after for the rest of his life, I will be the one taking care of him.” Instead of conceding that the doctor’s were right, Danielle knew if a flash that she could do it. She felt that God was telling her to take a chance, that this was her path in life. Danielle was not going to let Matt die. That was 2011. What followed was a battle to bring Matt out of the coma, battles with the medical staff who wanted to put him into a nursing home and twenty four hour care, once she got him to her mother’s home. Caring for Matt meant changing nappies, checking feeding tubes, giving sponge baths, administering up to 20 different medications, turning Matt every two hours and single handedly doing all the physical therapy that was required.

Danielle’s journey is a long way from over and Matt may never be the same, but he sings to Danielle and writes her poems and tells her every day that he loves her.

As is the case with Danielle, the cost of love is often enormous – emotionally, financially and in terms of the time that is involved. Yet the lover (parent, sibling, friend) thinks nothing of that, only of ensuring that their beloved is loved and cared for, has the best life that is possible in the circumstances and that they know that they have not been abandoned.

This Lent, it has seemed to me that the readings have focused on love – God’s boundless, unconditional love for all of humanity. We have seen that God reaches out for us in love, refusing to give up on us no matter how much we disappoint, frustrate and even enrage God.  God does not/cannot stop loving even when we blindly go our own way, when we put up barriers between ourselves and God’s love or when we behave in ways that are damaging to ourselves or to others. God’s love for us is a love that never gives up, no matter how broken or beyond repair we might be and it is a love that never counts the cost.

Today and throughout this week, we will witness God’s love played out in Jesus’ journey to the cross. We cannot know what was going through Jesus’ head when he set out for Jerusalem or when he incurred the wrath of the Jewish leaders by entering the city as a King, by challenging their views and by being high-handed in the Temple. What we do know is that at any point Jesus could have turned back. At any point, Jesus could have decided that it was all too hard and simply given up. At any point, Jesus could have chosen to do what was right for him, rather than what might be right for others.

But as relentlessly as the forces of evil lined up against him, Jesus doggedly continued on the path that was before him, the path that would ensure death for him and life for the world.

This is the ultimate demonstration of God’s love for us – God, in Jesus entering our world and pouring out love and compassion on an ungrateful world. God demonstrates God’s love for us in Jesus’ giving himself completely to and for us – doing whatever it would take to enable us to live our lives as fully as we possibly can.

God cannot and will not stop loving us. It remains for us to accept that we are loved and to discover that it is only by surrendering to God’s love that we will find fulfillment, freedom and peace. It remains for us to abandon ourselves to God and to thereby see that it is only in God we have all that we want or need.

[1] Reported in the latest Marie Claire Australia magazine (April 16, 2016, p104-106).

The time is now

February 20, 2016

Lent 2 – 2016    Luke 13:1-9

                                                                                                                                                Marian Free

In the name of God who, in an uncertain world calls us to the one thing that lasts for eternity – a relationship with God. Amen.

Whenever something awful or inexplicable happens it is not unusual to hear the questions – what or why? What did he ever do that he should experience something so terrible? Why did it happen to her? He did so much for others, she wouldn’t hurt a fly. Why, why, why? In general, it seems that we try to make sense of terrible things by finding a reason for them. If only we could say that a person deserved what had happened to them or that they had done something to precipitate the events that had such terrible consequences we would find the tragedy more palatable.

At the same time there is a feeling that if we just knew the cause of a calamity or if we were able to place the blame on the victim then we could be both less disturbed by the event and in a position to ensure that a similar fate did not befall us. Knowing more would allow us could avoid the behaviour, the relationship or the activity that had such disastrous consequences for someone else. If we had more information, we could say to ourselves: “they deserved that”, “they were always taking risks”, or “we knew that person was no good for them”. Being able to think such things would not only reduce our state of anxiety, but have the added benefit of allowing ourselves to feel a certain smug satisfaction confident in the belief that because we don’t do those things that caused the problem we will almost certainly no come to harm.)

The problem is that life is not like that. Bad things do happen to good people. Innocent people can find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time and natural disasters are completely indiscriminate. Too often we can’t find an explanation for tragedy. The good do die young and the bad can seem to live forever.

Today’s gospel consists of two sayings and a parable – a pattern that is not unusual for Luke. Ostensibly people among Jesus’ audience have reported on a particularly nasty occurrence in the temple. We don’t know whether this or the event of the falling tower really happened ,but they serve to make the point that Luke has been driving home since the beginning of chapter 12. Now is a time for decision, a time to decide whether to turn to God or to continue to live in a way that doesn’t recognise the necessity of a relationship with God. Throughout that chapter Jesus urges the listeners to trust God with their future, to be prepared, to be able to read the signs. Jesus warns that he has come to bring fire to the earth. He has not come to bring peace – his presence will cause division. Now is the time to decide whether or not to follow Jesus. It is a decision that may be misunderstood and that may cause rifts with those who do not understand, but a time will come when it will be too late, when his listeners discover that they have turned their backs on God/Jesus for the last time, that they have set their faces and their lives irrevocably in the other direction.

It is against this background that we must understand today’s gospel. Jesus is calling his listeners (and therefore us) to turn their lives around. They must not think that just because nothing traumatic has happened to them that they are in some way better than those who have have had towers fall on them or who have had their blood mixed with sacrifices. No – as the gospels remind us over and over again – there is no hierarchy of sin against which we can measure ourselves, no form of measurement that lets us complacently sit back and assume that because we are ‘better’ than someone else that we have no more to achieve. The gospels are clear – sin is sin and anything less than perfection is imperfection. What saves us is not what we do, but what God does for us. This is why it is important that we “repent ” that we literally turn our lives around, stop focussing on ourselves and the things of this world and begin to focus on God and the things that endure for eternity.

Chapter twelve and the first few verses of thirteen are filled with a sense of urgency. Jesus is anxious that those who are following him make a decision that they don’t just listen but they also respond. They have the opportunity then and there to make to make up their minds to give their loves to God. Jesus is impatient. He cannot imagine why anyone would delay when there is so much on offer.

The language is so strong and the demand so insistent that it would be easy for us to lose heart to believe that we will never get there. However when we read on we discover that Jesus’ message is tempered by the parable that follows. Impatience and frustration don’t have the last word. There is room for a second chance. According to the parable, the fig tree has had three years to produce fruit. The impatient landholder thinks that that is more than enough time. Why should it take up space that a tree that produces fruit could use? “Chop it down!” he says. The gardener however is more temperate. He asks that the tree be given another chance and so it is. 

Just because God is patient is no reason for us to take advantage. Just because we think we have given ourselves to God does it mean that there is no room for improvement. Lent gives us time to think, time to ask ourselves what parts of our lives do we need to turn around, what aspects of our lives are we withholding from God’s scrutiny and God’s love our lives and in what ways do we fail to trust God with our present and our future?

None of us knows when our time will come. If it were today or tomorrow would we feel that we had done what we could to prepare? Would we wish that we had dealt with some of the things that mar the image of God in us? Would our relationship with God be such that we were ready to be face-to-face with our Creator?

Jesus reminds us that the time is now.

What are we waiting for?

No quick fix

February 13, 2016

                                                                       Lent 1 – 2016 – some thoughts                                                                                             Luke 4:1-15

                                                                                                                                                                  Marian Free

In the name of God who asks for all that we have so that God can give us all that we need. Amen.

Some time ago, I had surgery on my foot. As part of the healing process I was to keep off my foot for a fortnight and not drive for six weeks. It has to be said that even with lectures to prepare and movies to watch, two weeks stuck on a couch seemed like forever. Once the pain had diminished, it was tempting to move about to fill in the time in other ways, but in this instance I knew that a “quick” recovery meant doing what was required. So, bored and uncomfortable I stayed on the couch with my foot on a stool and moved about only when absolutely necessary.

It is tempting to cut corners, to avoid the hard yards that a good job requires. At first it might appear that it made no difference that we went back to work too soon, that we used an injured limb before the recommended time, that we didn’t properly prepare the timber before we painted, that we didn’t properly cream the butter and the sugar for our cake. In fact, there will be times that we don’t experience any ill consequences for our failure to do something properly. However, there will be times when the consequences of our failure to follow through are disastrous. A bad paint job will need redoing sooner rather than later, a cake that has not been properly stirred might be lumpy, but a limb that has not properly healed might cause us even worse problems later on, and a return to work when we have not fully recovered from an illness may mean that the infection returns – more virulent than before – and we lose even more time from work than had we been patient in the first place.

Here, at the beginning of his ministry, Jesus is offered a short cut, a way out of the difficult and painful course that lay before him. The tempter tells him that doesn’t have to be hungry. It would be easy enough for Jesus to turn stones into bread. As the Son of God Jesus he could simply enforce God’s rule, bend the wills of people to his own, there was no need to persuade and encourage. He didn’t have to endure the suffering and pain of the cross when he could simply call on the angels to save him.

Jesus has been driven into the wilderness to reflect on his call and on his role. The temptations are anything but theoretical. They reflect the very real choices that faced Jesus – to fully enter the human experience or to exert the power of his divinity, to impose his will or to draw people to his way of seeing things, to gain attention by being a miracle worker or by working beside people, to try to escape pain and suffering or to place his trust completely in God and believe that the cross would be worth it.

 

Forty days in the wilderness have taught Jesus that near enough would not be good enough and that easy solutions would not achieve the end goal. Jesus knew that people who were impressed by easy miracles would not stick around for the long haul, that loyalty that was forced would be no loyalty at all and that without the cross there would be no resurrection.

Jesus will be a very different sort of Christ from the one whom many expected. His leadership will be marked by service and his victory will look like defeat, but it will only be through his complete submission to God that Jesus will be able to restore the relationship between God and the people of God. So Jesus refuses to be drawn into the devil’s ruse, he resists temptation to take the easy way out and sets his mind to the task that is before him.

What is true for Jesus is true for us. Later in the gospel Jesus will ask the disciples: “Who do the crowds say that I am?” When Peter identifies him as the Christ, Jesus makes sure that the disciples know what this means telling them that he must suffer and be rejected and killed and that on the third day he will be raised. He goes on to say that those who follow him must set their minds to the same experience – figuratively if not literally. They must deny themselves and take up their cross daily. If they want to save their life, they must lose it.

Jesus’ life and death not only win our salvation, but they provide the model for our own spiritual lives. If we are to realise our full potential as children of God, we, like Jesus must be prepared to go the full distance, to put in the effort that is required, to give ourselves whole-heartedly and with conviction. In order to be formed into the image of Christ we must be prepared to stick with it,, to understand that short-term pain leads to long-term gain. We must try to see the big picture rather than getting caught up in the minutia of the every day. We must learn that near enough is simply not good enough.

Lent provides an opportunity for us to share Jesus’ wilderness experience, to ask ourselves once again, what it is that God wants of us. Lent allows us time and space to see how we are going, to ask ourselves whether we are content with the superficial or whether we are ready to explore the depths of our existence, to consider whether our focus is on the present or on eternity. Lent gives us space to ponder whether we trust God sufficiently to give ourselves completely to God or whether we are still holding something back, whether we understand that it is only by giving all that we have that we gain everything that we could ever want or need.

Lent forces us to ask whether we are just giving lip service to faith or whether we are really ready to allow God to be all in all.

How will you spend this Lent and will your practice equip you for the rest of your journey or will it simply fulfill the needs of the moment?

 

Alone with ourselves

February 21, 2015

Lent 1 – 2015

Mark 1:9-14

Marian Free

In the name of God who loves us as we are and invites us to do the same. Amen.

During a recent visit to Hobart we visited both Port Arthur and the Female Factory[1]. The latter was particularly shocking. At both prisons there was provision for solitary confinement. An Englishman John Howard promoted the idea as a more effective means of reform than prison. His belief was, that in isolation from others a convicted person would be forced to reflect on and repent of their crimes. His idea was first put into practice in the United States, then England and from there to Van Dieman’s Land. Prisoners would be locked in a cell for twenty-three hours of every day and allowed one hour only to exercise and even then they wore masks to prevent them from communicating with each other. The walls of the cells were thick to ensure that the convicts couldn’t hear each other. To maintain an atmosphere of silence, the guards wore slippers and “spoke” to each other through sign language. Even during the compulsory Chapel Service the prisoners wore masks and were separated from each other in separate stalls.

The cells were so small that the hammocks on which the men slept had to be rolled up during the day. They had a small table and a chair so that they could work and a bucket for personal needs. In the United States both the Chaplains and Doctors noticed that an abnormally high number of prisoners developed what today we would call “mental illness” and advocated that the practice be abandoned. In Van Dieman’s Land, the Comptroller of Convicts, John Hampton, supported by the Commandant at Port Arthur was a fervent supporter of the system.

A particularly abhorrent part of the practice of solitary confinement was that known as the ‘the dumb cell’ or punishment cell. This cell lay behind four thick doors and was completely light and sound proof. (It is possible to go inside a cell today and if you draw the door to, there is absolutely no light. The cell was so small that anyone taller than myself (5’3”) would have found it impossible to lie down, let alone move around.) The practice was abandoned when Port Arthur closed, but it is still used today both as a form of punishment and as a means of torture.

It is difficult for us to imagine just how demoralising and isolating such a situation can be. Being alone without any distraction allows self-doubt to surface and depression to follow. In the 1800’s a Danish prisoner who experienced solitary confinement wrote: “one was ‘instantly overpowered’ by a ‘depressing’ and ‘poignant solitude’ that went against the natural desire of ‘both men of nature and men of culture’ for a social life. A perpetual emptiness grinds away and throws the prisoner into a condition which borders on insanity’.[2]

This is depressing stuff, but it illustrates the disorienting affect of silence and isolation. A person is left with only their own resources to keep them from madness. Every fear, every anxiety is given an opportunity to come to the surface and there are no distractions. Such an extreme form of isolation, isolation imposed, rather than chosen is beyond cruelty.

Isolation and silence that is freely chosen is quite different, though the lack of distraction and conversation has a similar effect – albeit to a much lesser extent. Our work, our families and our social life all have the benefit of taking our minds off our troubles, of giving our lives meaning and helping us to identify our place in the world. In the midst of everyday life we can see where we “fit”. We are able to balance our troubles and problems against the good things in life and recognise that so many others are much worse off than ourselves. Without these identifies, we are like a boat that has come lose from its moorings, we are cast adrift, with nothing to hold on to. We are forced to depend on our own resources, or to place our trust firmly in God.

For many in religious orders, isolation and silence are a lifestyle choice. Away from the world practitioners are able to come to a fuller understanding of themselves – their resources and their strengths, their poverty of spirit and their weaknesses. Unfettered by the concerns of everyday life, they are able to make themselves totally available to God. On a much smaller scale, a Religious Retreat (especially if it is silent) provides a similar sort of experience. The Retreatant comes to a deeper awareness of their true nature and a deeper relationship with God.

We are told that after Jesus’ baptism the Spirit “drove him into the wilderness” where for forty days he was alone with himself and with God. Whatever sense of mission Jesus had before this time, it seems that it was crystallised at his baptism. Spirit-driven or not, it would not be surprising that Jesus needed some time out to think, to consider whether he was really up to the task – after all, for all that he was divine he was also fully human. Could the human side of him really be placed at the service of the divine? Could his divinity really be expressed, without his being tempted to compete with God? The time in the wilderness would have shown him what he was really made of. The isolation and the loneliness would have forced him to totally rely on God. It seems that whatever happened in the wilderness, Jesus returned to the world with a clear sense of purpose and a willingness to accept whatever it was that God had in store for him.

During Lent we are invited, in some small way, to share Jesus’ wilderness experience. By “giving up” something for Lent we are given an opportunity to see what we are made of and by allowing God to fill the space that we have created. Compared to forty days alone in the wilderness, or a lifetime of silence in a religious order, forty days of going without in the comfort of our own home, in the company of family and friends is nothing at all.

Lent is a gift, not a chore, an opportunity not an imposition. May your Lenten observance be a fruitful time of self-examination and spiritual growth.

[1] Female prison

[2] http://www.insidetime.org/resources/Publications/Solitary_Confinement_PSJ181.pdf, More recent descriptions of the experience of solitary confinement can be found in the book Evil Cradling that describes the experience of Brian Keenan who was taken hostage in Lebanon in the 1980’s and the diary of Mohamedou Ould Slahi who has been incarcerated in Guantanamo Bay even though several years ago he was found to be innocent.