Archive for the ‘Luke’s gospel’ Category

Our inheritance is with the saints

November 2, 2013

All Saints – 2013

Luke 6:20-26

Marian Free

In the name of God, Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier. Amen.

 I wonder if you are well prepared for your death? By that I mean a number of things: do you have a will, an advanced health directive? have you talked to your family about practical details like cremation or burial? have you planned your funeral? Hopefully your answer to at least some of those things is “yes”. It seems obvious enough that a certain amount of planning is useful and even necessary, but even though death is inevitable, there are some people who are superstitious about making plans for it. They seem to think that if they talk about or plan for their death that somehow they are inviting it to come before time. Their attitude seems to be that if they don’t think about it then it won’t happen.

It is hard to imagine a Christian being fettered by such fears. After all, Jesus resurrection has demonstrated that death is not something to be feared, but something to be faced with confidence, that death is not the end, but a new beginning. We may not know exactly what lies beyond the grave, but the various descriptions of life-hereafter, give us a glimpse of an existence in which there is joy and peace and abundance – forever!

Death holds no fear for us, because we are confident of the resurrection to eternal life. But there is more to it than that – dying to ourselves and living to God is central to the practice of our faith.  In order to be united to God, in order to realise the divine presence within us, we need to learn to let go of those things that bind us to this life and to embrace those things which belong to our heavenly existence. In this way, we already have one foot in the kingdom – death is simply the fulfillment of our Christian journey. At the same time, we will be so practiced at dying, so used to the new life that results that we will be ready for this one last death.

This style of existence does not come easily. Dying in order to live is counter-intuitive to all that we know and experience in this life. Everything that is human in us screams “no” to death! Nature itself is designed to be resilient, to reproduce, to resist obliteration. No wonder that we find it so hard to let go, to do anything that would reveal weakness or suggest failure. The irony is that all our struggling, all our efforts to prevent disaster, all our attempts to deny our vulnerability are, in the end, life-denying. We become so focused on ourselves, so anxious about avoiding pain and suffering, so determined to hold on to what we have that we lose the ability to be truly free and fully alive. As a result our world becomes smaller and more limited. We tie ourselves to this life thus losing sight of the life to come. Worse still, in our attempts to build for ourselves a world that is safe and secure, we simply succeed in locking God out of our lives. Instead of placing our trust in God, we are placing all our trust in ourselves – believing that our own efforts will keep us safe and happy.

The poor, the hungry, the grieving and the reviled have no such problems – they know and recognise their emptiness and their reliance on God. This is why Jesus calls them blessed not because it is good to be poor and hungry, but because those who have nothing are forced depend on God for everything, those who are empty are able to be filled by the presence of God, those who grieve look to God for solace, those who have nothing to bind them to this life are free to place all their hope in the life to come. On the other hand, those who in this life are rich, full and happy do not have the same pressure to recognise their need for God. Being satisfied with their situation in this life, they have no need to look forward to the life to come. Worse, they are tempted to hold on to and to protect what they have and this serves to separate them further from their future hope. In worldly terms they may appear to be blessed, but when it comes to the kingdom, their material blessings can become an impediment to a deep and fulfilling relationship with God.

In every age, there have been those who have learned to detach themselves from this world, who have focused not on worldly success and possessions but have developed those characteristics which will best equip them for the life to come. They have sought out solitude, embraced poverty and hardship, practiced self-denial, relied on God to meet their needs and when the occasion demanded it, have given their lives for their faith. It is people such as these whom we number among the saints.

If we want to count ourselves among the blessed, if we would like to be numbered among the saints, we do not necessarily have to set ourselves apart, embrace poverty and become ascetics. However, we do have to unlearn our need for independence, we have to stop our striving for worldly success, we have to learn to value the lessons and blessings that adversity and loss bestow upon us, we have to allow ourselves to fall and to fail so that God can help us up and we have to be willing to empty ourselves so that God can fill us.

Our journey through this life is a preparation for the life to come. It is an opportunity to develop and embrace those characteristics which will serve us for eternity. For that reason it is important to practice dying in order that we might live, to keep our focus on what is really important, to let go of those things that do not matter, to relinquish those things that we cannot take with us and to place all our trust in God, so that when God calls, we are not only ready, but willing to abandon this life so that we can enter with joy the life that has no end.

So let us learn to die that we might live and so live that when we die, we will do so in the full assurance that our inheritance is with the saints for ever.

Trusting God with our present and our future

October 26, 2013

Pentecost 23 – 2013

Luke 18:15-30

Marian Free 

In the name of God who loves us with an everlasting love and asks us only to place all our trust in him. Amen.

This morning I’d like to begin with two stories. They are both true, both autobiographical. The first is told by a Paul Villard who reports that when he was quite young, his family had one of the first telephones in their neighbourhood. He was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when his mother talked to it. Once she lifted him up to speak to my father, who was away on business. Magic!

He discovered that somewhere inside that wonderful device lived an amazing person: whose name was “Information Please” and there was nothing she did not know – someone’s phone number, the correct time. His first experience with this amazing person came one day while his mother was out. Amusing himself at the tool bench in the basement, he whacked his finger with a hammer. Though the pain was terrible, there didn’t seem to be any point in crying because there was no one to offer sympathy. He was walking around the house sucking he throbbing finger, when he saw the phone.

He grabbed a stool, climbed up, unhooked the receiver and held it to his ear. “Information Please” he said.

A click or two, then a small, clear voice spoke. “Information.”

“I hurt my fingerrr-“ he wailed into the phone. The tears came now that he had an audience.

“Isn’t your mother home?”

“Nobody’s home but me,”

“Are you bleeding?”

“No,” he replied. “I hit it with the hammer and it hurts.”

“Can you open the icebox?” she asked. “Yes.”

“Then take a piece of ice and hold it on your finger. That will stop the hurt.”

After that, Paul called Information Please for everything – help with geography and with arithmetic. He even called her when his pet canary died. Information Please listened and said all the things grown-ups say to soothe child, but he remained unconsoled. Sensing that, she said quietly, “Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.”

Thereafter, in moments of doubt and perplexity he would recall the serene sense of security he had when he knew that he could call Information Please and get the right answer[1].” (If you’d like to know the rest of the story, you can find it on-line.)

Unfortunately I didn’t record the author of the second story. I think it was American writer Charles Bayer[2]. He describes his visit to Mount Athos in Greece. There are no roads, only treacherous mountain footpaths. Even the sea route is fraught with danger so he set out over the mountains for the monastery of Stavranikita. It was a blazing hot day and carried all the things North Americans “need” for such an undertaking – several changes of clothes, camera, toiletries, extra shoes, books, paper, alarm clock and at least 5 kilos of other junk he never travelled without.

When he neared his destination, he was observed by a monk who had noted his state and burst into gales of laughter. He was so weary he was barely able to walk, but he made out a few words through the avalanche of merriment. “Baggage, baggage, look at the silly American with all that baggage! Why don’t you throw it in the sea? You are weighted down with all your impediments.”

Two very different stories about trust, or lack of trust. With the innocence of a child, Paul implicitly trusted “Information Please”, the adult on his way to the monastery, was afraid to trust that he could manage without his suitcase filled with life’s “necessities”.

In last week’s gospel Jesus told two parables about how to pray in the in-between time. In that time after he has come and before the world is perfected, Jesus urges us to persevere in prayer. This week, the theme of life in the in-between time continues with two stories which illustrate the attitude towards God that we are called to adopt while we wait. The attitude towards God that will allow us to receive the kingdom and will see us through to eternal life is one of complete dependence, one that does not allow anything to stand between ourselves and God.

For this reason, Jesus encourages us to develop the same sort of innocence, the same level of trust that the child Paul showed towards “Information Please”. Terrifyingly, this means abandoning our outer shell of independence and resourcefulness that has helped us to deal with a world and a society that is untrustworthy and that is not universally safe or secure. We spend so much of our lives trying to be grown up, to prove that we can look after ourselves, that we lose sight of the gifts of childhood – innocence, wonder and trust – gifts that along the way we willingly gave up. In this world that seems so little changed by the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, it is imperative that we continue to pray but also that we learn to trust or unlearn our suspicion. In both today’s world and that of Jesus, Jesus turns the social order upside down, It is not the old, the wise, the learned, or the experienced whose example we are to follow, but it is the young, the innocent, the untaught and the inexperienced who teach us not to trust in ourselves, but rather to place all our trust in God.

It is in this context that we have to understand the story of the ruler. It appears that the ruler is seeking something – he has come to Jesus. Despite his upright living, he is not satisfied, he is not confident that his relationship with God is all that it could be. Something has unsettled his quiet, obedient existence. Perhaps he has come to see that in the end, obeying the law is empty without relationship or perhaps he has been moved by Jesus’ teaching, Jesus’ freedom and he wants to know more about this different relationship with God. Jesus recognises his longing and identifies the one thing that he needs to do – he must give up his possessions. At the present moment the ruler needs his possessions more than he needs God. He is tied to life in this world more than he is drawn to eternal life. It is only if he can let go to the things that tie him down to this life that he will be truly free to inherit the life to come. He must again become like a child and trust in God to provide all that he needs.

The story of the ruler has little to do with money and everything to do with trust in God. Can we receive the kingdom of God as a little child or do we build up barriers and prevent God from breaking through our defenses? Does our security lie in God and the things that last forever, or do we rely on other, more ephemeral, more temporal things?

In this in-between time, this time of uncertainty, this time of longing for the kingdom to come, God is with us. Jesus assures us that in good times and in bad, God will never abandon us. All we need to do is to throw caution to the wind and toss our lot in with him, to become like a child and to trust God with our present and our future.


[1] The full story can be found at http://www.telephonetribute.com

[2] The book in which the account can be found is called A Guide to Liberation Theology.

Safe in the hands of God

October 19, 2013

Pentecost 22

Luke 18:1-14

Marian Free

In the name of God who raises up the humble and puts down the mighty and who never abandons us to face our trials alone. Amen.

When the weather is good, Michael and I like to eat outside. Not only is it a pleasant environment, it also gives us a chance to observe the natural world. Among other creatures that inhabit our garden are some rather large, but harmless ants. Needless to say they are very much in evidence should anything fall from our table. On one particular day a rather large crumb was picked up by two of these ants. We watched as they moved it somewhat awkwardly across the cement amazed that they should think that the trouble was worth it. Because the ground slopes, the concrete has a large crack in it – too wide for the ants to cross. The two of them spent ages trying to manoeuvre the crumb down one side of the crack and up the other. If one ant dropped an end, the other clung tightly until the first had regained its hold – a process repeated over and over again. They did not seem to be discouraged no matter how often they had to repeat the process. It was hard to believe that one small crumb warranted such persistence – especially when there were others, more manageable, to be had.

Today’s gospel consists of two parables which, at first glance, appear to have nothing to do with each other. A closer look however reveals that they are both about faith – a relationship of trust in God that persists in difficult circumstances and that is built on openness to God in prayer.

To understand the parables, we have to understand the context in which they are being told. The Pharisees have asked Jesus when the Kingdom of God will come. Jesus’ response was to tell them that the coming of the Kingdom would not be observable by outward signs. Indeed, he says, the Kingdom is already among them. It is just that they have failed to recognise it. Jesus concedes the world is not yet perfect. It is full of uncertainty and suffering which will only come to an end when God’s rule is firmly established. Jesus warns his followers that they are to expect difficult times – and the letter to Timothy indicates that the believers do experience persecution and suffering. The disciples and the church live in this in-between time. They are aware of God’s rule in their own lives, but conscious of how far from the ideal of the Kingdom the world still is. They accept that in this still unperfected time that their life will not necessary be one of peace and ease.

The parables are told to encourage the disciples to remain faithful even in difficult times and to trust God to vindicate them against those who oppress them. Jesus is responding to the unasked question: How are the disciples to live, how are they to pray in this time after Jesus coming and before the realisation of God’s rule over all the world?

Even though it seems to be taking a long time for things to change, the disciples are to persist in prayer, confident that God will respond. They are not to abandon their faith at the first sign of difficulty, but to preserve against all odds. God is not like the judge who has to be worn down before he will act, and then only acts in his own self-interest. God’s loving goodness has the disciples’ interests at heart, and though the Kingdom seems long in coming, they are not to be discouraged even when times are tough. Jesus urges them to continue in prayer and to remain faithful, confident that even if God does not act as quickly as they would like, God will respond.

Having told this parable, Jesus tells another – about two people at prayer. The Pharisee, confident in his own goodness is keen, not so much to pray, but to tell God just how good he is in comparison to everyone else. Certainly, he is living in a way that is consistent with the law and he is observing the spiritual disciplines expected of him. However, he cannot see that even though he fasts twice a week, gives ten percent of his income away and does not earn his living by collecting taxes for the Romans, his very arrogance, self-centredness and lack of compassion place him as far from God as every other sinner. His belief in his own perfection has blinded him to his own faults and shortcomings. Worse than that perhaps, he has made himself judge, thus standing in God’s stead and doing God’s work for him! He might think that he believes in God, but in fact by his attitude he demonstrates that he doesn’t need God. He can be judge and jury all on his own.

The tax-collector on the other hand, is only too aware that by circumstance or design, he falls far short of the ideal of perfection. In fact, he is so aware of his failings, that he cannot hold his head up high, nor can he wait for God to pass judgement on himself but beats his breast as a form of self-punishment. Unlike the Pharisee, the tax-collector knows only too well how much he depends on God for anything like a good outcome at the judgement. He hopes against hope that God will overlook his present situation – his role as tax-collector – and that God will restore him to a relationship with God. The Pharisee does not need God to tell him how wonderful he is. The tax-collector, knows how much he needs God if he is ever to be declared wonderful.

This is the difference that Jesus wants us to observe, and why he commends the tax-collector who, to his contemporaries is a traitor and one of the worst kinds of sinners. What matters, Jesus implies, is our relationship with and dependence on God, our recognition that we fall far short of godliness and our belief that, despite our faults, God will vindicate us if only we trust in God and not ourselves. The widow’s persistence and faith in God teaches us to persevere and not to be discouraged. The tax-collector’s humility in prayer teaches us to trust in the mercy of God even though we are far from perfected.

Today, we continue to live with the tension that faced the first century church. Like them we might wonder why God who sent Jesus to save the world, continues to stand back, to hold his hand when a baby dies every three seconds, children starve in Syria because adults cannot agree on how to bring about peace, millions of people languish in refugee camps, Christians are persecuted and killed and people’s homes are destroyed by fires so ferocious that they are almost unimaginable. We do not and will not have the answer to this question, but Jesus tells us that we must not be discouraged, we must not give up. We must continue to pray, confident that God is not only listening, but that God has everything in hand and in God’s own time God will respond.

So we must continue to pray, and when we do, we must be honest with ourselves and with God. We must recognise that if the world is not perfect, it is in part because we are not perfect. When we ask God to change the world we must first ask God to change us.

We are to have faith in this in-between time when Jesus has come and the world is still not perfected. We are to keep the faith even in the most difficult and trying circumstances. We are to understand that faith does not consist of doing the right thing, but first and foremost consists of a relationship with God which is honest and transparent, which is open and responsive to the presence of God and willing to be transformed by that presence.

Persistence and humility are two characteristics, two attitudes that should inform and support us in a world that is far from saved. Persistence in prayer prevents despair when our circumstances seem impossible. Humility in prayer acknowledges our solidarity with (rather than our superiority over) the world around us. Both evidence a trust in God which places our future and that of the world firmly where they belong – safe in the hands of God.

Ingratitude exposed

October 12, 2013

Pentecost 21

Luke 17:11-19

Marian Free

In the name of God, to whom we owe all that we have. Amen.

This morning I would like to share with you something of the story of CorrieTen Boom[1]. Corrie and her sister Betsie were the unmarried daughters of a Dutch watch-maker. During the Second World War the family provided refuge to a number of Jews. They were found out and sent to German prison camps. Towards the end of the war, as defeat loomed for the Germans, prisoners, including Betsie and Corrie, were sent to camps further and further to the east. At last the sisters found themselves at Ravensbruck. There, the conditions were absolutely appalling. Their new home, Barracks 28 seemed to have half its windows stuffed with rags where the glass had broken. “The place was filthy, the plumbing had backed up and the bedding was soiled and rancid. There were no individual beds, but great square piers stacked three high, and wedged side by side and end to end with only an occasional narrow aisle between.

When the sisters reached their beds they had to climb to a second tier, crawl across three other straw covered platforms to reach the one that they would share with who knew how many. The space between platforms was so narrow that they could not sit up and so they lay back on the rancid straw. Suddenly Corrie leaped up, bumping her head on the bed above. “Fleas!” she exclaimed. “The place is crawling with them. How can we live in such a place?” While Corrie wailed, Betsie calmly prayed: “Show us how.” She reminded Corrie of the Bible passage they had read that morning: ‘Rejoice always, pray constantly, in everything give thanks …’ (1 Thess 5). “We can start now, thanking God for everything in this new barracks, Betsie announced. “Such as?” was Corrie’s surprised reply.

“For being together, for being able to keep our Bible, for all the women who will meet God through these pages, for the overcrowding which means that they will hear us when we read,” began Betsie. “For the fleas” she continued. This last was too much for Corrie – thanking God for the fleas? But Betsie insisted: “for everything give thanks.” And so they stood between the tiers of beds, in that hell on earth, and said “Thankyou to God for the fleas.”

Ten lepers are healed, but only one gives thanks. It is the outsider, the Samaritan, who returns to glorify God. The antagonism between the Samaritans and the Jews went deep.  The Samaritans trace their ancestry to the Israelite tribes of Ephraim and Manasseh and are adherents of an Abrahamic faith.  They separated from the Jews when Eli the priest who built a new holy place, abandoning (so they thought) that which had been established by Joshua. One theory suggests that the Samaritans were left behind when the Judeans were taken into exile in Babylon. The Samaritans claim that theirs is the true expression of the faith of the ancient Israelites and that Judaism is a version of the faith which was corrupted and added to during the time in exile.

The Samaritans believed that Mount Gerizim, not Mount Zion was the holy mountain and their scripture consisted only of what we would identify as the first five books of the Old Testament. The resentment between the two groups depended, at least in part, on their competition for authenticity and historicity. As the New Testament suggests, the Jews despised the Samaritans. Leaders on both sides – Jewish and Samaritan – discouraged contact with the other which including travelling through their territories and even speaking to them.

According to today’s gospel Jesus heals ten men of their leprosy and only one returns to give thanks. That it is a Samaritan who returns is not only a surprise, it is an affront to Jesus’ Jewish audience. Surely it should be one of their own, not a reviled Samaritan who sets the example, who receives recognition from Jesus. A Samaritan would have been the last person whom they would expect to hear commended.

In the gospels the outsider if often used to show up the religious people of the day: the Samaritan, the Roman centurion, the Canaanite woman, the woman who anointed Jesus’ feet, Zaccheus the tax collector and the woman with the flow of blood are all presented as exemplars in one way or another. The actions or faith of these outsiders expose the false piety and arrogance of the scribes and Pharisees. In the gospels, faithfulness, trust and gratitude are more often shown, not by those who believe themselves to be the children of God, but by those whose occupation, race or condition put them on the outskirts of respectable society and lead them to be considered with contempt by the so-called religious people of the day.

I’m sure that we all know people who show us up, who expose our arrogance, our anxiety, our lack of faith – the person living with constant pain who still manages to be cheerful and content, the person who remains sanguine even though their business has failed and they have lost everything or the person who remains calm in the face of chaos. Most of us do not like to have our weaknesses revealed. We prefer the world to see the front that we choose to show. It is natural to want to protect ourselves from criticism and derision, however if we are to grow and mature, we have to learn to open ourselves for inspection, to allow a light to be shone into those parts of ourselves that we would rather not see. We have to be challenged and not threatened by those whose lives demonstrate a holiness, a contentment or a calm that is deeper or stronger than our own.

Giving thanks – for fleas of all things – in what was already an horrendous situation, a Samaritan – of all people – being the only one to return to give thanks – these are actions that have the potential to expose our own pettiness and ingratitude, to reveal our self-centredness and thoughtlessness. At the same time they provide opportunities to re-examine our own lives, to re-think how we respond to life’s challenges and to determine to live differently – grateful for the abundant goodness which God has showered and will continue to shower on us.


[1] Corrie Ten Boom. Her Story. New York: International  Press, 1995, p144-5.

Serving God is its own reward

October 5, 2013

Pentecost 20

Luke 17:5-10

Marian Free

In the name of God in whose service we give our all – expecting no reward, but the privilege of serving our God and Saviour, Jesus Christ. Amen.

In March this year a number of people received awards for bravery or courage. Trevor Burns was awarded the Star of Courage for saving a dive operator from a shark attack. Not only did he pull the shark off the woman, but, as other members of the group made their way to the safety of the boat, Trevor stayed in the bloodied water to dive down to the sinking woman and pull her to the surface. Raymond Bruckner and Ernst Gomsi took a canoe into raging flood water to rescue two men who had been thrown out of their aluminum boat by the swift flowing water. In the process Gomsi himself was tossed into the water, but was able to be retrieved. The actions of these two men saved the lives of the others. Brett Morrissey smashed a door and then a window to enter a burning house to rescue a child. When he learned that a woman remained inside, he returned to bring her out as well. All four put their own lives at risk to save the life of a stranger. (For these and other stories go to: http://www.govhouse.qld.gov.au)

If asked, these and the many others who have received such awards would have said that they didn’t think about what they were doing or the danger to themselves, but that they were only doing what anyone else would have done in the same situation. Often such people are genuinely surprised to be receiving any recognition because they are convinced that they have done nothing out of the ordinary! Many, many people do extraordinary things in the course of their work or their everyday lives and think nothing of it. Aid workers and peacekeepers often put their own lives (and certainly their comfort) at risk serving people in refugee camps, war-torn or disaster ravaged countries and paramedics and emergency service workers are confronted with horrifying situations on a regular basis – often putting their own lives at risk for the sake of others.

Other people are heroic in ways that will never be publicly recognised. Think of the hundreds of parents who give all they have to care for a child with a disability, the children who ungrudgingly care for elderly parents, those who uncomplainingly live with a disability and those who cheerfully carry out mundane or dull tasks which are essential for the well-being of the wider community, but which are taken for granted and only noticed by their absence. All of these people would say that they are only doing what anyone else would do in their situation, or that they are only doing what is required of them. None of them would think that they were doing anything out of the ordinary.

Of course, the opposite is true. Some people take foolish risks in the hope that they will stand out from the crowd. There are some that find their responsibilities burdensome and unwelcome and there are many that grumble at the routine of their daily work or the lack of recognition they receive for what they do.

In today’s gospel, Jesus addresses the question of whether, in our faith lives we do things for recognition or whether faith itself is reward enough. In the first century somewhere between thirty to forty percent of the population of the Roman Empire were slaves. Their conditions varied depending on whether or not they were working in the mines or running someone’s estate, or whether their owner was kind or vicious. However, even those in the best positions were never anything more than a slave. It would have been inconceivable for anyone to imagine the scenario Jesus puts before his audience: an owner suggesting a slave sit at the table after a hard day’s work. Such an offer would diminishes the master’s status and respect. It would be a reversal of roles that would  be inconceivable. The expectation of both master and slave would be that the slave would have to complete his or her tasks – including ensuring their owner had eaten – before considering their own needs.

Throughout history people have followed Jesus, not for any external reward or recognition, but simply for the privilege of being counted among the faithful. Saints have not spent lives in prayer and reflection so that they might be singled out from the crowd. They have done so because their lives would have held no meaning if they did not. Martyrs have not gone to their deaths thinking: this will make me more important than other Christians. They have simply have accepted death as one consequence of a life of faith. Missionaries and others have not carried out their work in the belief that one day they will be set apart as those who did more for the Gospel. They have responded to the call of God and shared with others a faith they believe to be life-changing. People like Mother Teresa have not given up lives of comfort to live among the poor because they thought that one day they would be elevated as super Christians. All these people have lived lives of faith for the rewards of knowing and being known by God and by Christ our Saviour.

We too, in good times and in bad, confidently and timidly, with greater or lesser prayerfulness or holiness, commit ourselves to faith in Jesus Christ, not because we expect God to single us out for praise, not because we are competing with each other for God’s attention, not because we want to stand out from the crowd, but because we have heard the call of Christ and have done no less than what we were compelled to do. Life in the service of our Redeemer is a reward in itself.

Wealth management

September 21, 2013

Pentecost 18. 2013

Luke 16:1-8

Marian  Free

“Then Jesus said to the disciples, “There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was squandering his property.  2 So he summoned him and said to him, ‘What is this that I hear about you? Give me an accounting of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.’  3 Then the manager said to himself, ‘What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg.  4 I have decided what to do so that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.’  5 So, summoning his master’s debtors one by one, he asked the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’  6 He answered, ‘A hundred jugs of olive oil.’ He said to him, ‘Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.’  7 Then he asked another, ‘And how much do you owe?’ He replied, ‘A hundred containers of wheat.’ He said to him, ‘Take your bill and make it eighty.’  8 And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly; for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light.”

In the name of God whose foolishness is wiser than human wisdom. Amen.

If you were to write a novel, or an essay, or a scientific report, there would be certain steps that you would take and particular methodologies that you would employ. Writing a psychological report is quite different from writing a history essay. Writing a novel is quite different from writing a poem. Writing a sonnet is quite different from writing a haiku poem. Every style of writing has its own rules which serve to make the intention of the author clearer. A novelist wants to engage the reader and to maintain their attention, a scientific writer wants to ensure that the results of their research are presented in a clear and convincing manner. Students of English literature would be able to examine a poem or novel in great detail to determine the different techniques used by an author.

We should not be surprised to learn that New Testament writings also follow established modes of writing and story-telling. Like some novels the gospels, which are essentially biographies, contain a variety of styles – parables, sayings, miracle stories and more. Each of these have their own particular patterns. Furthermore, it is important to note that in the first century, there were no printing presses and few people who could read or write. Stories were heard, not read. For that reason, techniques were developed, consciously, or otherwise to make the stories memorable. One of the methods was that of repetition, another was to create a pattern or to tell a story that would make people sit up and listen.

Jesus appears to have been a good story teller and the gospel writers likewise re-told the stories in ways which would ensure that the listeners would hear and remember the point that was being made. I mention all this because the parable recorded in today’s gospel has a very specific pattern which provides an example of one form of story-telling in the first century.

Crossan identifies the following three acts and the patterns within those acts.

Scene 1 (16:1-2) Master and Steward

(a)  16:1a (relationship given: steward)               16:2a (accusation repeated: “I hear”

(b) 16:1b (accusation made: charges)                16:2b (relationship broken: “no  longer”)

Scene 2 (16:3-4) Steward and Self

(a)  16:3a = 16:4a (“What shall I do?”/”I have decided what to do”)

(b) 16:3b = 16:4b (“stewardship” “stewardship”)

(c)   16:3c = 16:4c (problem/solution)

Scene 3 (16:5-7) Steward and Debtors

(a)  16:5a = 16:7a (“he said to the first”, “he said to another”)

(b) 16:5b = 16:7b (“how much do you owe?” x2)

(c)   16:6a =16:7c (He said: a hundred x2)

(d)  16:6b = 16:7d (“Take your bill and write” x2)[1]

It is evident that that even in these few verses, a number of the ideas are repeated. In scene one the relationship is reversed by use of repetition. In scenes two and three repeated themes emphasise the points that are being made. Because we are not used to listening to these stories and because, unlike Crossan and others, we are unskilled in literary criticism, we do not recognise these patterns without help. However, in Jesus’ day, it would have been patterns and structures like these which will have earned and kept the listener’s attention.

Of all Jesus’ parables, the parable of the master and his steward is probably the most difficult to understand. In it Jesus appears to be condoning dishonesty- something which seems completely contradictory to all that Jesus stands for. Jesus might eat with tax collectors and sinners, but he doesn’t condone bad behaviour – just the opposite. In order to understand this parable then we need to understand a few things – the role of steward, the accusations laid against him and the reason Jesus commends his action. As is the case today, a steward (manager) might have almost full responsibility for the concerns of his employer. The manager would make the day-to-day decisions about the business and be responsible for ensuring that it made a profit. In this instance, the manger would have determined how much to charge for the various products and, so long as the master was making money could determine how much he kept for himself. In reducing the amounts owed he may well be reducing the margin that he kept for himself, rather than defrauding his employer. Another point to note is that the manager is being dismissed for incompetence – not for dishonesty – so to assume he begins by being dishonest, is to draw the wrong conclusion.

In reducing his share of the profits the manager is assuring himself of a welcome in the homes of those whose debts he reduces. This is what Jesus is commending – not dishonesty, but the manager’s willingness to give up his worldly comforts (wealth) in the present for the sake of potential benefits in the future. “He has not clung to his wealth, but used it to earn goodwill that will serve him in his hour of need.”[2] In the same way, Jesus’ hearers should give their wealth to the poor so that those who will inherit the kingdom will welcome them into the eternal dwellings.

The author of Luke’s gospel does not condemn wealth, but he is very clear that wealth or our desire for it, should not come between ourselves and our relationship God. The desire for security and comfort in this life, should not distract us from developing those things which will provide us with security and comfort in the life to come. Further, the author of Luke is clear that those who possess wealth have an obligation to share it with those who do not (if for no other reason than that of today’s parable – to ensure a welcome from the poor (who as we are told in the Beatitudes) will inherit the kingdom of heaven (Lk 6:20). In the kingdom everything is reversed – it is just as well to get used to that now. In the final analysis, none of us can take our wealth with us. It is more important to build up those things/those values and characteristics that will be of value in the life to come, than to waste our time building up and protecting possessions that will be of no use in our heavenly existence. It will do us little good to be wealthy if greed, selfishness and egocentricism exclude us from the life to come. It will be of little value to have secured a fortune if we have not at the same time secured the peace, joy, love, patience and generosity that will be treasured in heaven.

Where does your security lie? What are you doing to ensure that your relationship with God comes first and not last?


[1] Crossan, John Dominic. In Parables: The Challenge of the Historical Jesus. California: Polebridge Press, 1992, 107,8.

[2] Byrne, Brendan S.J. The Hospitality of God: A Reading of Luke’s Gospel. Minnesota: St Paul’s Press, 2006, 134.

A scandalous God

September 14, 2013

Pentecost 17   2013

Luke 15:11-32

Marian Free 

In the name of God who cares not what we have done, only that we  trust God enough to return home. Amen.

If you were to read the Gospel of Mark (or even Matthew or John), you would look in vain for the best-loved and best known stories and parables. If we did not have the Gospel of Luke there would be no shepherds to accompany the Christmas story and no manger to adorn our Christmas cards, no accounts of Jesus’ childhood or reports of thankfulness (the ten lepers).  The parable of the Good Samaritan and the parable of the Prodigal Son would be nowhere to be found. Parables which are so well-known that they are part of our cultural heritage would have been lost.

Luke’s gospel has another claim on our attention. The author, for reasons that we can only guess, likes numbers (or repetition). Where other gospels only have one story, or one character, Luke often has two. For example, in Mark’s Gospel, there is only one Gerassene demoniac; in Luke there are two. There are two parables for guests and hosts (14:7-14) and two parables about counting the cost (14:28-33). Luke also presents pairs of stories: a man is healed and a woman is healed (13:10-17, 14:1-6). (In fact, stories of men are often paired with similar stories which feature women – for eg the annunciation to Zechariah (1:5-25) and the annunciation to Mary (1:26-38)).

This pattern of repeating a story or an event is evident in the stories of the lost. The parable of the lost sheep is joined by the parables of the lost coin and the lost son both of which are unique to Luke’s gospel. Perhaps the author of the Gospel is using repetition to ensure that his readers really understand the (shocking) point that Jesus is making – that God seeks out the lost and expects those who are found (or who have never strayed) to understand that such seeking is integral to the nature of God. Despite their popular names, these parables are of course about God – not the sheep or the coin or the son. For that reason, what is popularly known as the parable of the prodigal son is better called the parable of the Forgiving Father.

Just as the parable of the lost sheep is designed to shock and confound the listeners, so too, the parable about the son is intended to shake people out of their complacency and to force them to see God, and their faith, from a different perspective. According to these parables, God does not behave in the way that God is expected to behave – rewarding the good and excluding those who stray from the straight and narrow path. In fact, to the surprise of Jesus’ listeners (and perhaps to many of us today) God behaves in exactly the opposite way.

It is not the complacent, independent, law-observing believers who are God’s primary concern. In fact such people are often so self-assured that they seem to believe that they can achieve salvation by their own efforts and who do not recognise their faults and failures. (They don’t need God to assist them). God, as depicted by the parables of the lost, is more concerned with those “outside” those, who like the younger son, become aware of their own shortcomings and throw themselves on God’s mercy.

In order to understand the scandalous behaviour of the father (God) in the story, we have to understand the cultural context. In the first instance, we have to be aware that in the culture of the time, honour was a very important value. The son has shamed the father (and himself) in multiple ways: by asking for the inheritance, by spending it unwisely and by working with the pigs. At the same time, no self-respecting man would allow a son to insist that the estate be divided, nor would he welcome back the same son after he had wasted the money in loose living.

However, contrary to expectations, the son is not cast off. In fact, it seems that the father has been hoping for, watching for his return (15:19). Not only that, the father casts aside all pride and dignity and runs down the road to meet him! He is so glad to see the son that he doesn’t care what anyone thinks. For Jesus’ listeners this would be outrageous behaviour – the father doesn’t even know that the son is sorry – only that he is coming home and that is all that he needs to know.

As Jesus continually reminds us, God’s values, kingdom values are often the reverse of human/worldly values. (The poor will be blessed, those who weep will laugh. Do not only love those who can love you in return and so on.) What is more, the conventions and standards of the kingdom do not conform to the conventions and practices of the world. God can and does behave in ways that many of us would consider scandalous or unfair.

This parable has a coda. While the main action is between the father and the younger son, we are also given an insight into the reaction of the older brother – the one who remained behind. He represents all the good, law-abiding Jews, who are – not surprisingly – horrified by the father’s shocking behaviour and incensed that all their efforts to behave appropriately are not given more recognition, that they are not commended and rewarded for doing what is right.

It has been my experience that most people who hear or read this parable, identify with the older son.  They have a very human idea of fairness and justice and while they might think God is wonderful for welcoming the younger boy, they experience at the same time some disquiet that the older son receives no extra recompense for his conformity and his dutiful behaviour.

This is exactly the attitude that Jesus is trying to confront and to challenge. Jesus has identified a mind-set that is likely to cause some good, well-intentioned believers some difficulty. That is that they will find it difficult to accept that God behaves in ways that contradict their expectation, that the values of the kingdom are not the same as the values of the world and that the economy of exchange (if I do this, I receive that) does not count for anything in the world to come.

The problem is this: there is only one reward (eternal life) and only one way to receive it (faith). That means that at the end ALL those who have faith will receive the same reward – whether they come to faith only in old age after a life-time of crime or debauchery, or whether they have been faithful and well-behaved for an entire life-time. If faith is the sole criterion for inheritance of the kingdom of heaven, God will not be grading us according to any other criteria.

The sooner we grasp this concept the better. We would not want our resentment and bitterness to exclude us from a gift we have spent a lifetime longing for. We would not like to be like the older brother – so angry at God’s grace and generosity to others that despite God’s pleading we refuse to go in.

Shepherds and sheep

September 7, 2013

Pentecost 16

Luke 15:1-15

Marian Free

 In the name of God who will not be bound by human convention or constrained by human wisdom, and whose love extends to all. Amen.   

When we were in Tanzania, we observed the local Masai herdsmen (often children) herding their sheep to pasture in what seemed to be a harsh and unforgiving land. Each person had somewhere between ten and twenty sheep and they were kept together with a switch. I don’t know, but I assume the loss of one sheep due to carelessness would have been a serious matter when the total number was so low.

How different from the Australian experience! When I was young I visited a sheep station that was 100 square miles in size. The boundaries were fenced as were the interior paddocks – no opportunity for sheep to wander off. Shepherding was required only when it was time to move the sheep from one pasture to another and then it was done from the back of a motorbike – no switch and no personal relationship between shepherd and sheep. I can no longer remember how many sheep the landowner stocked on the property, but I clearly remember a delivery of sheep. A double, two-layer sheep trailer disgorged its contents in front of us – probably in the vicinity of two hundred sheep. In the crush of the transport one had died. The farmer immediately took out his knife and skinned it in front of us. Before our holiday had ended, that sheep had contributed to at least one evening meal. When such large numbers of livestock are involved, there is no room for sentimentality. Pragmatism rules the day.

But back to our Tanzanian experience which is a much better illustration of today’s parable. Small herds are not only more precious, they are better able to be cared for in a more intimate way. There is no need for them to be herded on to freight trains or abandoned to their own devices far from the homestead. Small herds can be protected from wild animals which Australian fences do not deter and it is easy to recognise when one is missing. Every evening the animals are returned to the village where they are contained behind a fence in the centre of the huts so that they will be safe until morning. Every morning they are taken from the pen to once again find pasture.

From what we can gather, herding in Jesus’ day was similar to that of the East African experience. There were some notable differences. The Palestinian herdsmen didn’t necessarily return to a village in the evening (think of the shepherds to whom the angels relayed the news of Jesus’ birth). Instead, crude walls out of stones were made in the pastures to protect the livestock from predators. These sheepfolds seem to have been ad hoc structures – in any case, they were constructed without a gate. In the evening, the shepherd would herd the animals into the enclosure and then lie in front of the opening so as to be able to prevent wild enemies from entering. The shepherds may have built fires for warmth and added protection, but all that kept the animals safe from harm was their shepherd’s ability to aim a sling or to otherwise deter or frighten off an attacker.

Seen from the perspective of shepherding in Israel, Jesus’ parable about the lost sheep is far from a benign, feel good story. Jesus’ audience would have justifiably been shocked and outraged. What sort of shepherd abandons ninety-nine sheep to the wolves in order to go off and search for one that is missing? Wolves or hyenas could cause far greater loss to the shepherd among ninety-nine unprotected sheep, than to one isolated sheep. In other words, for the sake of the one, the shepherd is risking several, if not all, of the others.

You can almost hear the gasps of Jesus’ listeners – the Pharisees, the tax collectors and the sinners. They are not herdsmen, but they have some idea of animal husbandry – even the biggest cities of Palestine are not far from the countryside. Is this shepherd crazy they must be wondering? What is one sheep when you have ninety-nine safe and sound? It gets even worse.  Not only does the shepherd abandon those sheep which have kept close to him, but when the shepherd recovers the sheep which has strayed, he calls all his neighbours over to rejoice with him. Surely that is an over reaction. A party for a lost sheep?

Jesus has almost certainly caught the attention of his listeners. They are probably beginning to wonder what sort of meaning he can draw from the story. How can he use a story about a lost sheep to defend eating with tax collectors and sinners which, in the eyes of the Pharisees breaks the codes of purity and implies that he overlooks their obvious sinfulness. What they have not realised is that the story is a not so subtle attack on their own arrogance and self-satisfaction and a challenge for them to re-assess their understanding of God. Jesus piques their interest and then he goes in for the kill. This is what heaven is like he says. God (we are to suppose) seeks out not the upright, not the law-abiding, but those who have strayed. The people whom the Pharisees despise, exclude and denigrate are the very people whom heaven will seek out and rejoice to welcome home.

What a slap in the face that must have seemed to the Pharisees.  From what we can tell these righteousness and law-abiding people, believed that behaviour set them apart from those around them and assured them of a place in heaven before all others. Jesus’ story about the lost sheep is an affront to everything they had been led to believe and it was a direct attack on their attitude towards those who didn’t achieve their high standards of behaviour. They think that entrance into heaven is something that has to be earned by keeping the law, by prayer and by fasting, that God has particular standards that people have to reach before God will grant them salvation. At the same time they are so sure of that they are right that they have made themselves both judge and jury of the behaviour of others. Anyone who doesn’t conform to their standards is, they believe, automatically excluded from the heavenly realm.

Jesus puts the lie to that belief. Contrary to God’s abandoning and turning his back on sinners, God does what for the Pharisees is unthinkable – God seeks out those who are lost and takes more pleasure in the return of a sinner than in those whose very goodness leads them to forget how much they need God and who believe that their righteous behaviour sets them apart from and above everyone else.

There are times in our lives when we wander from the path, and when we do, God seeks us out and brings us home rejoicing. At other times we find ourselves safe and secure in the fold. At such times it is important that we remember the love sought us out and that we do not begrudge the fact that God extends that love to those who in the present are lost. Having been found, it is important that we do not allow ourselves to be smug or self-satisfied, that we do not think that we better or more worthy than others. We are all beneficiaries of God’s love and we are all dependent on God’s forgiveness. God’s loving forgiveness seeks us out, overlooks our faults, restores us to the fold and welcomes us with rejoicing into the realms of heaven.

Our place in the kingdom

August 31, 2013

Pentecost 15

Luke 14:1,7-14

Marian Free

In the name of God whose kingdom recognises no distinction between rich and poor, foolish and wise, leaders and led. Amen.

In the last five years or so, we have witnessed a number of British state occasions – the wedding of Kate and Will, the Consecration of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the funeral of Margaret Thatcher. All of these events have been the result of careful planning and adherence to codes of etiquette that are centuries old. If you had observed any or all of these ceremonies, you would have noted that the guests (who were pre-determined and specifically invited) were all seated in allotted places. The Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh have their own chairs which (in St Paul’s at least) are distinct from those around them. In the processions likewise, everyone has their place. No one would dare to break with convention and disturb the order of things. That would lead to embarrassing consequences – not least their expulsion from the event and their almost certain exclusion from their peers.

A dinner at Windsor Castle or at the White House or the Lodge is similarly orchestrated. Guests will have been carefully chosen and notified of the dress code. An enormous amount of effort will have been put into ensuring that the guests are seated in such a way that no one has any excuse to feel slighted. With matters of state, it is not just a matter of ensuring that the most senior invitees are assured of the places at the head of the table, but also of making sure that the representative nations are accorded the status that they might feel they deserve. Of course, the guest list will have been carefully thought out in the first instance so as to avoid any embarrassment and place cards will make it easy for guests not to make a mistake.

Similar social norms existed in Jesus’ time. Members of society were ranked according birth, wealth and position and everyone knew their place in relation to everyone else. Only members of one’s own class of people would be invited to a meal and those who were invited would have been sensible of their status relative to the other guests. Tables were arranged in a U-shape so that the servants could move freely around them and guests were seated according to their position in society. It is probably not surprising then, that at the meal Jesus is attending the guests began to seat themselves. Even without place cards, they would have had a reasonable idea as to where they might be seated. (If they were of equal status they might have tried to get a better seat than their fellows in order to claim some form of superiority.)

One of the things that is clear throughout the gospels is that Jesus consistently disrupted and subverted the accepted order of things. He welcomed children and spoke to unaccompanied women. Worse, he ignored the religious scruples of his fellows and disturbed or, should we say extended, the practice of hospitality. Jesus ate with tax collectors and sinners and allowed a woman of the street to interrupt a dinner to anoint his feet. Instead of upholding the traditions of his forebears, Jesus consistently undermined or reinterpreted them. Here he is, doing it again.

Jesus has been invited to the home of a Pharisee. He is not a comfortable guest and it is clear that there is a certain expectation that he will not be so on this occasion. We are told: “they (presumably the other guests) were watching him closely.” What, they seem to be wondering, will he do this time? Jesus doesn’t disappoint. First of all, he throws out a challenge with regard to the law: “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath?” he asks. The lawyers and Pharisees are silent, so despite it being the Sabbath, Jesus heals a man and sends him on his way.

Then, Jesus’ notices the guests beginning to take their places at the table. This leads him to reflect on the social practice of priority in seating. He tells a parable which will certainly hit its mark. In a culture in which status, honour and shame are all important, the humiliation and disgrace of having to give up one’s place is one thing with which all the guests will be able to identify. Not one of those present would want to be singled out and told to take a lesser position at the table. If a person was asked to move having first seated themself it would suggest that they had a false sense of their worth and indicate a failure to acknowledge someone of greater status than themself. It would be impossible to outlive the shame and the loss of face that such a demotion would entail.

This parable will have got everyone’s attention. Jesus presses his point home by directly addressing his host. It is all very well to provide a banquet for those who can repay the favour, Jesus says, but how much better to fill the banqueting hall with those who have no hope of ever returning the invitation.

Verses 11 and 13 tell us where Jesus is going with the parable and the teaching. “All who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted” and “you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” Jesus is speaking less of the present situation, but of the life to come. Resurrection life, he suggests, is going to be very different from this life. Kingdom values are the reverse of worldly values. Jesus is less concerned about the social conduct of the dinner party he is attending, than he is about how people will fare in the life to come. God has no favourites. In fact, as the author of Luke has made clear from the beginning of the gospel, Jesus’ coming heralds a great reversal. In the kingdom which Jesus proclaims, the mighty will be brought down from their thrones and the humble will be lifted high. The poor will be blessed and the hungry filled.

Heaven is a place in which status counts for nothing. In the world to come those who think themselves better than others, will discover that God has different ideas and those who have no idea of their own worth will be astonished to discover how much God values them. If Jesus’ fellow diners would be mortified at being asked to move lower at the table, how much worse would it be to experience such shame at being demoted at the resurrection. Better to identify with those of lower status now than to be cast down before all in the kingdom. Similarly, if it is the poor who are to inherit the kingdom, better to make yourself at home with them now, than to find yourself a stranger to them at the end.

Rank, status and recognition are beguiling. It is human nature to want to stand out from the crowd. Jesus is saying to his fellow guests and to his host, as clearly as he can, that there will be no distinctions in the life to come therefore it would be well to be prepared and to stop observing such distinctions now.

Free to live

August 24, 2013

Pentecost 13

Luke 13:10-17

Marian Free

In the name of God who sets us free to live. Amen.

In the novel, The Woman Upstairs, by Claire Messud, the Father of one of the characters says: “It is not your position, but your disposition that determines your life.” What he means is, that it is not what life throws at you, but how you respond to your circumstances that makes all the difference. In other words, it is our attitude that makes us better, not bitter. We can’t choose our lives, but we can choose what we make of them. Different people react differently to trauma, grief or incapacity. Some are weighed down by anger, depression and resentment and others are somehow able to rise above their circumstances and not only remain positive, but are able to take lessons from the negative event and to grow from it. It is understandable that people for whom life has been a constant struggle should feel despondent and constrained. Those whose life’s experiences have prevented them  from achieving their full potential sometimes think that they have been short changed, that if only their life had taken a different turn they could have achieved so much more. This, as I have said, is a reasonable reaction, especially if illness, accident or disaster has taken their life in a direction other than they one that they had planned. However, what can happen to such people is that their very negativity exaggerates their situation. Instead of looking at what they can do, they focus on what they can’t do. Instead of looking forward to “what could be”, they spend their time dreaming of what “might have been”. They seem to get stuck, unable to move out of their despair and frustration to make the best of their circumstances however bad they may seem to be. On the other hand their are those whose attitude is just the opposite. In the face of disaster, trauma or adversity, such people exert extraordinary will or simply rely on a positive attitude to surmount their circumstances and to wring out a new, if different, future for themselves. Rather than focusing on the life they might have had, they find a way to make the best of the life they do have. Sometimes, as a result of their struggle, they achieve more, are more creative, more innovative, more driven, than if they had never had to face adversity. The woman in today’s gospel has been bound for eighteen years. When Jesus tells her that she is free from her ailment, he opens up new, unthought of possibilities for life. Healed of her deformity, the woman can now stand up straight. Her world view is no longer confined to the ground beneath her feet. She can once again take in the faces of her family and friends, see the sky, the birds and the trees. Her life is no longer limited by the way that people view her. New vistas of possibility open up, new ways to share in the life of the community around her. She can hold her head up high in her community – both literally and figuratively. It is Jesus’ desire to set us all free – from all the limits that we allow to define and confine us. Jesus challenges us to let go of any events and hurts from the past that we may have allowed to restrict us and sets us free – free to live, free to achieve our full potential, free to make a contribution to the world