Archive for the ‘Luke’s gospel’ Category

Lambs among wolves – do you dare?

July 1, 2022

Pentecost 4 – 2022
Luke 10:1-12, 17-24
Marian Free

In the name of God who asks us to leave everything and follow. Amen.

I wonder, do you travel light, or do you need to be prepared for any eventuality? Do you like to plan your accommodation in advance, try out new places to eat or are you just as happy to take things as they come? Either way I wonder how you respond to Jesus’ instructions to his disciples in this morning’s gospel? “Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals”, “Remain in the house you first enter, eating and drinking what they provide”? Could you set out on a journey with nothing but the clothes that you are wearing? And how do you feel about accepting hospitality from strangers, eating whatever is put in front of you? How comfortable would you feel as a “lamb among wolves”?

In the first century, the most common form of communication was by word of mouth. People were illiterate and letters were an expense that few could afford. A majority of people lived on the breadline – paying for accommodation was not an option. To get a message to someone in the next village or further afield meant that someone had to travel by foot and be dependent on the kindness of strangers. This had its dangers and risks but, by and large, travellers could rely on the culture of hospitality that existed among many of the cultures in the Middle East. Even the poorest of people would share what they had, even if it was just some bread or maybe some fish.

If the gospel was to be shared the disciples had to go out, to travel through the towns and villages of Galilee: “to cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’” In a world without internet, telephone or even the printing press, there was only one way that people were going to hear the good news of the kingdom and that was if was taken to them.

Today’s world is very different. In the first instance, since Constantine made Christianity the religion of the Empire in the fourth century, it has been possible to assume that, in the West at least, the Christian faith was known (if not always held). Then during the years of expansion and colonisation, the Christian faith was exported to all corners of the world. Either way, until the last hundred years or so, there has been no apparent need to take the gospel to the world. Add to that the fact that in the 22nd century, communication is easy, cheap and, often, immediate. Modern day followers of Jesus can share the message of the gospel simply by sitting at their computer or by tapping out messages on their phone. Blogs, tweets, Facebook posts can all be employed in the service of spreading the gospel. There is not even a necessity for any face-to-face contact – no need to go out, no need to accept hospitality from strangers, no need to take risks, and certainly no danger of being “lambs among wolves”.

Safe behind our texts and our screens we can congratulate ourselves on spreading the word. We may take a certain pride in the number of “followers” that we have, imagine that our creative meme helps to make the gospel “relevant” to a new generation or that our erudite words will convince a sceptic or unbeliever that the gospel does indeed have something to say to today’s world.

Therein, I suspect lies a serious problem. In our offices and our homes, we have no idea what the world needs to know, even worse, we do not know what the world needs us to hear. Safe in our own little worlds, we do not need to engage with the pain and suffering experienced by millions – in distant places, but also on our doorsteps. We do not have to get our hands dirty with the grit and toil of what for many is daily life. If we do not take ourselves into the streets of our cities and towns, we will not have to contend with the anger that many people feel towards the church or face their disappointment with a church that has failed them. Confined in our churches, we do not have to personally take responsibility for the ways in which Jesus’ teachings have been distorted and used for purposes for which they were never intended.

How can we possibly follow Jesus’ instruction to “heal the sick”, unless we allow ourselves to come face-to-face with those whose lives are limited by poverty, injustice or trauma? How will we learn the stories or those beyond our walls, unless we allow ourselves to become vulnerable (unprotected by our equivalents of purse, bag, and sandals)? How will we begin to have any understanding of their lives and their struggles unless we graciously accept their hospitality and not only listen to, but share their stories? How can we tell others that the “kingdom of God has come near” when for so many it is palpably absent and when we demonstrate by remaining in our comfort zones that we are loath to place our trust and hope completely in Jesus?

At first glance, the gospel appears to be bound in time and place, but like most of our gospel stories, Jesus’ sending out of the seventy can and does speak to us. Jesus warns that if we take seriously the commission to share the gospel, there will be times when we are overwhelmed by the impossibility of saving the world, when we feel defeated by the cynicism and scepticism of those who have rejected the church’s teaching and occasions when we are struck with anguish when we hear of the pain inflicted directly and indirectly by the church in which we have found a home. If we truly allow ourselves to be defenceless against the onslaughts of those whom we seek to serve, we may indeed feel as though we are “lambs among wolves”.

The good news is that the seventy did go out and when they returned, they exclaimed: “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!” “Even the demons submit to us!”

In a different time and place, we would not use the language of demons, but it is fair to say that there are many evils in the world today. The evil of greed which leads to the impoverishment of millions. The evil of a desire for power and control that leads to war and terror. The evil of climate injustice, which leads to the most vulnerable paying the cost for the careless of others. The evil of domestic violence and child-abuse. The evil of dispossessing people of their land, removing their children and incarcerating them at disproportionate rates. (I am sure that you could add more.)

Our blogs, tweets, Facebook posts, our Live-streaming and Zoom meetings will not do. We must find the courage to go out – even if we do not know what to say and even if we are afraid of our welcome – because only then can we confront the evils of the world and only then will Jesus be able to empower us to overcome them.

Believer or follower?

June 25, 2022

Pentecost 3 – 2020
Luke 9:51-62
Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to a future that is as yet unknown. sci

It is said that earning a Phd is more about persistence than it is about intelligence. I can testify to the truth of that. The most exciting year of the project is the very first year during which one develops a proposal for the research topic which involves coming up with an original argument and discerning whether or not there is enough evidence to support it. This is a challenging and stimulating time – a year of discovery and of new insights. If, as I was, you are studying part-time, the next eight years are spent developing and defending the proposal. Towards the end, it becomes simply mind-numbing. The initial enthusiasm wanes and the energy fades. Now it is just hard slog – ensuring that the thesis is well-argued, that the expression is good and, most importantly, that the referencing conforms to the required system. At this point, one is no longer making new discoveries or engaging in further research. The research question has been satisfactorily answered and now it is just the matter of putting the insights gained into some coherent sort of order. Not surprisingly, some students find this stage simply too tedious to continue. Many half-finished PhDs litter the halls of academia.

I know only too well the feeling – having answered the question to my satisfaction, I wondered why I needed to someone else to approve the result. After all, I knew by then that I was right! Thankfully I pressed on and gained a qualification that allows me to pursue a passion for teaching.

It is not always easy to see something through to its conclusion. I suspect that many of us over the course of a lifetime have begun projects with enthusiasm, only to leave them to languish when they became too difficult or when something more interesting cropped up. This is the point of today’s gospel which begins a new section in Luke’s telling of the story.

“Jesus set his face to go to Jerusalem.” The strength of the verb (set his face) tells us that this is no easy decision on his part. Going to Jerusalem (where he will surely die) takes all of Jesus’ resolve. This is something that he must do, not something that he wants to do.

This week and next our gospel readings focus on discipleship – what it means and what it demands. As Jesus sets out on the journey that will lead to his crucifixion, he needs to make it clear to would-be disciples that following him is not for the faint-hearted. Jesus knows what lies ahead for him – a sham trial, humiliation, and a brutal death. Those who choose to follow him must be prepared for discomfort, rejection and death. So, when these three representative disciples make enquires about following him, Jesus is keen to ensure that they can step up to the challenge and if, having stepped up, they can go the distance. For this reason, instead of enthusiastically welcoming them, he throws down the gauntlet. Can you accept having nowhere to lay your head? Will you risk the social and familial censure of not fulfilling your cultural obligations? If confronted with persecution will you hold fast or fall away? Are you prepared to live with uncertainty, abandon your families and not look back?

By testing the commitment of these would-be disciples Jesus is trying to discern whether they simply want to be part of the excitement that surrounds him, or whether they have truly grasped what it means to be a disciple.

We do not hear if Jesus adds to his followers that day or not, but in the following verses (as we will hear next week) we get a fuller idea of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus and why Jesus might want to test the enthusiasm of those seeking to join him. His disciples are sent on their first mission: “like lambs in the midst of wolves”, with no purse and no bag and nowhere to stay. It takes real commitment (and courage) to rise to this and the other challenges that lie ahead of the disciples.

For most of us here, the experience of following Jesus is quite different from that described in today’s gospel. We are, by and large, followers by birth rather than by choice. When we were in our infancy our parents and godparents enrolled us in the faith through our baptism. The questions they were asked were very different from the challenges that Jesus threw out to his potential disciples.

“Do you renounce the devil and all his works, the vain pomp and glory of the world, with all covetous desires of the same, and the sinful desires of the flesh, so that thou wilt not follow, nor be led by them?

Do you believe all the Articles of the Christian Faith, as contained in the Apostles’ Creed?

Will you then obediently keep God’s holy will and commandments, and walk in the same all the days of thy life?”

These are questions about faith rather than discipleship. In Baptism we are made members of the church rather than enrolled as followers of a radical, itinerant teacher. This is an important distinction, and one that we should take seriously. It is easy enough to believe – in God and in Jesus whom God sent. Being follower, a disciple, is potentially demanding and life-threatening. In twenty first century Australia it is unlikely that we (believers or followers) will be put to the test. We will not be asked to abandon home and family or to give our lives for our faith. But that does not let us off the hook. If we want to be followers of Jesus and not just believers, our commitment must be wholehearted, enthusiastic, and able to withstand any test.

Today, on his behalf, Braxton’s parents will promise to share with him their faith in God and in Jesus whom God sent. We pray that through them he may come to know the power of God’s love, have faith in Jesus Christ as his Saviour and have the courage to follow wherever that faith may lead.

Terrified of Jesus?

June 18, 2022

Pentecost 2 – 2022
Luke 8: (22-25) 26-29
Marian Free

In the name of God who is both comforting and challenging, benign and threatening. Amen.

According to a report by ABC news, at least 10, 000 cattle were washed away during the recent floods in Northern NSW. A vast majority of these will have drowned. One resident – trapped in her home and waiting for help – described a cow that was floating past her in the water. The animal looked at her, its eyes pleading for help, but of course, there was nothing she could do. It is a haunting image and one that came to mind as I wondered about the unsuspecting pigs in today’s gospel. Like the cattle they will have been caught completely of guard. Unlike the cattle the pigs will not have had the warning signs of heavy rain and rising water, and, rather than being propelled by an external force, they will have been driven by an internal urge. Either way cattle and pigs are caught up in the water and drowned.

I can’t help but think about the pigs in today’s gospel – the surprise and then the terror as they found themselves involuntarily propelled towards the water. I see them struggling to keep afloat before taking their last (fatal) breath and drowning. Why the pigs? What had they done to deserve such a fate?

The pigs are not the only conundrum in this story. There are so many unanswered questions. Why does Jesus bother to cross the lake into Gentile territory only to cause havoc come straight back again? Why did the demons have a choice as to where they were sent? How were the owners of the pigs to recoup their losses? Would the swineherders be out of work as a consequence of there being no pigs to herd?

It is impossible to come up with satisfactory answers to all those questions and it is conceivable that, in order to make a point, the narrator allowed himself the luxury of a little exaggeration. As it is, this is one of the more memorable and colourful gospel stories.

One component of this story, (and the one that precedes it) is that of fear. It is not just the pigs who are afraid. When Jesus rebukes the wind and the raging waves, the disciples are afraid. In today’s gospel the demons are afraid, the people who came out to see what had happened are afraid and the people of the surrounding countryside are greatly afraid. The demons are afraid, because Jesus sees them for who they are. The people are afraid – not because Jesus has been the reason that they have lost all their livestock – but because he healed the demoniac! The disciples and the people of Gerasene are afraid of Jesus – of his power over the natural elements and of his power over demons.

Why, you might ask, would anyone be afraid of Jesus? Why in particular would they be afraid of Jesus when he has saved the lives of the disciples and restored the demoniac to life thus freeing them from the burden of restraining him? Surely, those who witnessed Jesus’ power in these events would be amazed and grateful, but afraid? It doesn’t make sense – or does it? You and I are so familiar with the stories of Jesus that they have lost their power to confront, let alone terrify. When we are faced with the destructive powers of the natural world, we long for Jesus to intervene – to stop the fires, halt the floods, suppress the earthquake. When we watch someone suffer unbearably from mental illness or a deteriorative disease we yearn for Jesus to step in and bring about healing. What could be terrifying about either of those things we wonder?

I suspect that what is terrifying is Jesus’ display of power – the way in which he upsets the natural order – of creation, of society. When the disciples called out in terror as the waves threatened to sink the boat, I suspect that they wanted Jesus to share their fear, to help with the boat. They did not imagine that this wonder worker could or would exert the power of the creator. In their day there were many healers and exorcists – but no one who had control over the natural elements. Jesus’ demonstration of such extraordinary power would have been overwhelming. If the wind and sea obeyed Jesus, what other powers might he unleash? Was anything/anyone safe in his presence?

The source of the Gerasenes’ fear is similar. Here too, Jesus has upset the natural order of things. For, while he was possessed, the demoniac had a place (albeit it distressing) within the society. People knew how to respond to him, and his demonic state told them something about their place in the world. While he was under the influence of demons, those around him were able to define themselves in relation to him, to reassure themselves that they were not possessed, to feel superior to him, to feel a certain amount of self-righteousness concerning their acceptance of him and his condition and to have the role of carers – even if that care was limited to chaining him when he got too wild and providing him with the occasional scrap of food. In other words, when the demoniac was possessed, they knew where he fit and where they fit in relation to him.

When the demonic was possessed they knew what to do with him, but now that he is healed they find themselves in a completely new situation – one which they did not ask for and one over which they have no control. The delicate balance of their community has been disturbed. They are afraid because they do not know what to do now and they are afraid because they do not know what Jesus will do next.

These two stories reveal that both the disciples and those who met Jesus for the first time; that both those of a Jewish background and those from Gentile lands experienced fear in his presence. They recognised Jesus awesome presence and power and were terrified.

When Jesus unleashes the power of God creation itself obeys and our lives are changed forever. Perhaps the question we need to ask ourselves is not: “Why were they afraid?” but “Why are we not afraid.”

What – no palm branches??

April 9, 2022

Palm Sunday – 2022
Luke 19:28-39
Marian Free

In the name of God who cannot be captured by the limits of our imagination, and who continues to surprise and astound us. Amen.

For many of us Palm Sunday holds special memories – the procession, the hymns, the palms, the drama. “All glory, laud and honour.” The chorus resounds in our heads as we make our way to church and the new palm crosses rest in our hands as we make our way home. The church will have been both bright (with palms) and sombre – all the crosses now covered in purple – a reminder that the triumph of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem heralds the humiliation of the crucifixion. There may have been a dramatization of the gospels and we hear ourselves saying: “Crucify him, crucify him!”

Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem is one of the stories that, possibly because of its dramatic presentation during the liturgy, captures our imagination and remains with us from our childhood on. We know it so well – the donkey freely given (though the owner does not know for what it will be used), the palms that are waved and used to cover the ground under Jesus, the shouts of the crowds – “Hosanna!” and “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”

At least that is what we think the story says. I wonder, how many of us have really paid attention? Now that the account of the passion takes centre stage on Palm Sunday, I suspect that a majority of us rely on our memories rather than on the gospels themselves, for the details of the events that accompany Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. Indeed, most of us would not know which gospel formed the basis for our ideas of what occurred and, even if we had taken the time to read all four gospel accounts of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, it is unlikely that we would have noticed the differences between the accounts – which elements have taken centre stage and which have fallen by the wayside.

May I suggest that you take time to read all four different gospel accounts and that you make a point to discern which aspects of the day the different authors emphasised. (I’ll give you a clue. Matthew has the disciples borrow both a donkey and the colt of a donkey because one of his goals is to demonstrate the ways in which Jesus fulfills the Old Testament – in this case the prophet Zechariah 9:9 (“Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”)

Given that our Lectionary this year follows Luke’s gospel, I have paid particular attention to what Luke has written. If you have already read the four gospels, you might have noticed a number of things his account – in particular the fact that there are no palm branches might have stood out for you. Despite the fact that we take for granted that palm branches (or at least branches) were waved in the air, according to Luke not only was nothing waved, but there were no palms at all! If we were solely reliant on Luke’s account of events we would think that there was no waving and that only cloaks were laid on the ground before Jesus. “Cloak Sunday” doesn’t have the same ring to it and our processions would look entirely different if Luke was our only account.

Other details are different in Luke’s version. No one shouts: “Hosanna!” (That word does not occur at all in the third gospel.) Instead, Luke adds the words: “Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” which remind us of the words of the angels to the shepherds. Also, it is difficult to know (from the account in this gospel) whether it is “the crowds” who cheer on Jesus as he enters the city, or whether it is just his disciples. (Luke tells us that it is a multitude of disciples who “praise God in a loud voice” and that the Pharisees order Jesus to stop his disciples.) In other words, those who already know Jesus and have followed him from Galilee are the only people who are shouting out as he enters Jerusalem. These details, I think you will agree, puts an entirely new slant on the story.

That doesn’t mean that we have to let go of our childhood memories, but it does challenge us to pay attention, to recognise that we don’t actually know as much as we think we know, and to let go of our preconceived ideas and our settled approach to our scriptures. The four accounts of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem remind us to ask ourselves: “What else are we missing?”, to understand that it is important that we take nothing for granted, and that we approach scripture with open minds and with a sense of expectancy. If we are not to become stuck in our views or to left behind, it is essential that we anticipate surprises whenever we open our bibles instead of reading scriptures through the lens of what we already know.

Unfortunately, our relationship with God can be the same as our relationship with scripture. Whether we are radical or conservative we can reach a point at which we become complacent, and our notion of God becomes settled. Sadly, when we become comfortable with our image of God we lose our sense of awe and expectancy, we surrender our willingness to be pulled up short by an unexpected revelation of God and we fail to be surprised by the unexpected presence (or absence) of God in a person, a place or an event. We are losers not winners, if we become self-satisfied and comfortable with our faith – because God (and scripture) will ALWAYS have something more to reveal and something more to teach us.

As we approach Holy Week, may we see the events as if for the first time, be attentive to details that we might have missed and filled with the expectation that God always has something new to share with us.

Loving the deserving and the undeserving

March 26, 2022

Lent 4 – 2022
Luke 15:11-32
Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Earth-maker, Pain-Bearer, Life-giver whose love for us is beyond compare. Amen.

This week one of the disturbing stories that is making the headlines is the inquest into the shocking deaths of Hannah Clarke and her three children at the hands of her husband and their father. It is difficult to imagine how anyone who purports to love someone could be so possessive/obsessive that they would kill the one they loved rather than set them free. “Love” that comes with conditions or strings is not love at all, but something else altogether. “Love” that seeks to dominate or control is not love but a perverted idea of what “loving and being loved” might be.

In our imperfect world, there are many ways in which “love” has been corrupted or distorted. Some women stay with violent partners because they have been led to believe that they don’t deserve better. Some children act out because any attention is better than no attention. Others are overly compliant in the belief that only if they are good enough will they be loved. There are just too many examples of the ways in which love has been misunderstood or misused.

Today’s gospel, one with which we are so very familiar is all about love – giving and receiving love in its purest form – undefiled and unconditional.

Sadly, many of my generation were brought up to believe in heaven and hell, and in judgement that resulted in reward or punishment. Whether it was intended or not, the message that we received was that even though God loved us, that love came with an expectation that we were to be “good” and knowing that our “goodness” was constantly being measured against our “badness”.

In that light, the parable of the Loving Father or Prodigal Son was taught as a story of forgiveness. The bad son, the prodigal, had to recognise his sinfulness, repent, and return to his father – who then forgave him. That was easy enough to understand, but many of us struggled with the older son, the good but resentful son. This, I suspect, was because we identified with him and felt that we should not. Like the older son, our sense of fairness is offended by the father’s overreaction to the return of the prodigal. Like the older son, our notion of God’s love is predicated on its being earned. In the parable, this concept is turned upside down – the bad son who has done nothing to deserve it is rewarded – and the good son – who has done everything right – is not. “It’s not fair!” we shout, as if we were still two years old.
Our innate sense of justice wants God to be fair – at least far as we define it. We are torn between wanting to know that we (despite our inadequacies) are loved and wanting to know that God will rain down punishment on those whom we (not God) deem unworthy of God’s love. We want there to be consequences for good behaviour and for bad – otherwise (as the older son seems to feel) what is the point of being good? We fail to see the irony (as does the older son) that most of us are not driven by the threat of damnation but by the fact that we don’t actually want to be bad! It is not so much that we want to be rewarded, but we sure as heck want those who misbehave to be punished or at least reproved for their behaviour!

The meaning of the parable changes if we take as our starting point – not the behaviour of the brothers – but the actions of the father whose love towards his sons is demonstrated – not just at the home-coming but also at the leaving, not just at the going, but at the staying. Often, we are so focussed on the end of the story, that we overlook the beginning. According to the parable, the father loves his younger son enough to let him go. He understands that love that holds on to the other is not love but control and that nothing will be achieved by forcing his son to remain at home. If the younger son conforms but is seething with resentment, nothing is gained. According to the story (and we must remember that it is just a story), there are no strings attached to the son’s freedom, no instructions as to what he should do, where he should go or how he should spend his money. When the son returns, there are no questions, no recriminations – just joy that the one who is loved has returned. The father’s love is freely given – no questions, no expectations, and no conditions.

A fresh tells us something about God’s love for us. As is the father’s love for his child, God’s love for us is non-coercive and non-demanding. This was something that the younger son innately understood – he was not afraid to ask for his inheritance, not so anxious about his father’s reaction that he could not return home and not so ashamed that he held back when his father reached out to embrace him. What a contrast with the older brother who, in the story, appears not to have understood how much he is loved, that everything that was his father’s was his already. Instead of trusting his father’s love for him, he seems to have spent his life seeking approval. It is no wonder that he cannot be generous towards his brother, he has not had the confidence to be generous to himself.

If we turn this parable on its head, we will see that it has as much to tell us about accepting love, as it does about being loved. God, who is love, cannot help but love us. It is we, whose ideas about God are often misinformed or misguided, who think that we have to earn God’s love and who in turn begrudge the fact that God freely gives God’s love to all people – both the bad and the good – who have to re-frame the way that we see God and God’s love not just for some, but for all.

God’s boundless, unconditional, and unquestioning love is poured out on all God’s creation. When we claim that love for ourselves we cannot refuse it to others.

All we have to do is say: “yes – I know that I am loved.”

God loves you and that’s all. you need to know

March 19, 2022

Lent 3 – 2022
Luke 13:1-9
Marian Free

In the name of God who has no favourites. Amen.

Last year, a number of Social Media platforms made the decision to allow users to choose whether or not to publicise the number of ‘likes’ that their post received. Prior to that action there had been a significant public outcry about the competitive nature of social media and the mental health problems that ensued. It seems that some users were not only comparing the number of followers that they had against other users, but that they were also competing with others as the number of people who ‘liked’ their posts. In some cases, this was leading to extreme behaviours in order to increase the number of people who viewed the posts – riding on the roofs of moving trains or taking photographs in other very dangerous situations or expressing controversial opinions whether they believed in them or not. In other instances, the competitive aspect of the media was leading some people to feel undervalued if their posts did not receive as much attention as those of their friends. If a person’s posts included ‘selfies’, the result of receiving less attention than others led to a poor body image and to the reduction a person’s self-confidence -sometimes to the point that a person experienced depression or worse, led to suicide.

It is easy to blame social media for this situation, but really social media has simply exaggerated and brought to the fore a behaviour that is integral to human nature. Competition between individuals, groups and nations is not new and, as the current situation in Ukraine illustrates, it can have catastrophic effects. Indeed, in the natural environment competition is essential to the survival of the species – male -male competition ensures that the stronger/smarter males mate with more females which in turn assures the continuation of the species.

Contrary to our ideals, the natural world is not benign and we – often to our detriment – are part of that world.

In today’s rather gory and obscure gospel, Jesus confronts this competitive way of thinking and living – particularly the sort of competition that vies for God’s attention and affection or which assumes that God plays favourites with those who behave in particular ways. It is difficult to say why Luke breaks into his gospel with this conversation between Jesus and ‘those present’. There is nothing to suggest that those who report the actions of Pilate are engaging in a game of ‘one-upmanship’, but Jesus’ response makes it clear that he thinks that they are telling him the story about the blood being mixed with sacrifices in order to reassure themselves that they will not suffer the same fate. They assume that the Galileans must have done something truly awful for God to punish them in this way.

Jesus’ answer makes it clear that God had nothing to do with the fate of the Galileans. He is clear that God does not measure us against one another. God doesn’t favour the ‘good’ over the ‘bad’. God does not have a scale against which to determine who is more (or less) deserving of reward (or punishment). In fact, Jesus knows that God has no expectation that any flawed human being will achieve perfection.

This apparent interruption to the flow of Luke’s account provides an important message for ourselves on this third Sunday of Lent. For in two thousand years little has changed. We are no different from those in Jesus’ audience. Like them, we (at least on occasion) fall into the practice of comparing ourselves with others, reassuring ourselves that however bad we are ‘at least we are not as bad as them’.

Jesus wants his listeners to come to their own conclusion, so he asks: ‘Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all other Galileans?’ or that those on whom the tower fell, ‘were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?’ Speaking to everyone who is present, Jesus continues: ‘Unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.’ In other words, Jesus makes clear (as he does elsewhere) that when it comes to sin, we are equals, no one is more (or less) deserving than anyone else. God does not care whether our sins are great or small, heinous or careless, what does matter is that we recognise that we are all sinners, and that we all fall short of the glory of God (Rom 3:23). In other words, instead of comparing ourselves (favourably) against others, Jesus encourages us to be honest about our own faults and determine to turn (repent) from the ways of the world and our self-absorption and to trust in God’s love and care for everyone.

The apparently unrelated parable of the fig tree illustrates just this point. Worldly, competitive values (represented by the landowner) dictate that results – productivity, justifying one’s existence, being better than those around you – are more important than relationships. Kingdom, non-competitive values (represented by the gardener) teach us that – nurture, patience, understanding individual capabilities and needs – are of more importance than individualism and competition.

God knows and loves each one of us – just as we are – and, when we don’t live up to our potential, God patiently and lovingly gives us a little more care – hoping, believing that we will (however good or bad we may be) come good in the end.

We are all (sinner and saint) equal in the eyes of God, equally valued, equally treasured and God will (as God already has) do everything to ensure that we enter God’s kingdom.

It is not God who excludes us, but we through our mistaken belief that God has standards that we fail to meet, who exclude ourselves.

How long will it take for us to trust in God’s love for us? How long before we understand that we are already laid bare and cannot hide our true selves from God? How long before instead of living in fear of judgement, we live in joyful anticipation of Jesus’ coming again?

God loves you and that is all that you need to know and if you know that, you will accept that God loves everyone.

FOCUS!

March 12, 2022

Lent 2 – 2022
Luke 13:31-35 (Genesis 15:1-12,17-18)
Marian Free

Loving God, may we so keep our eyes on you that we will not be led from our path no matter the circumstance in which we find ourselves. Amen.

Foxes, chickens, Herod, Jerusalem, threat, lament, warning and determination, references to time and Pharisees worried about Jesus’ fate. There are so many threads in the few verses that make up today’s gospel that it is difficult to know which, if any, of these is useful for our Lenten observance or even if they hold together. On this occasion, the immediate context of our passage doesn’t help us to determine its meaning. Immediately prior to these verses Jesus who, on his way to Jerusalem has been going through villages and towns teaching, responds to a question as to who will be saved. Jesus answers by issuing a warning to the effect that now is the time to accept God’s invitation to enter the kingdom before it is too late, before others – the gentiles – have taken all available places and the door is shut.

Following the Pharisees’ warning and Jesus’ response is an account of Jesus’ observing people at a banquet and his comment that it is better to take a lower place at the table and be invited to move up than to take a place of honour and be demoted. Both reflections conclude with a reminder that kingdom values reverse those of the world: “the first will be last and the last will be first” (13:30) or “those who exalt themselves will be humbled and those who humbled themselves will be exalted” (14:11). These reflections are indeed useful for those of us who are examining our lives this Lent, but they provide little insight into today’s gospel.

Perhaps a more useful starting place for our understanding of today’s passage is to go back to the moment that Jesus left the relative safety of Galilee and began his journey to Jerusalem. In 9:51 (53) Luke tells us that Jesus ‘set his face towards Jerusalem’. As I mentioned a few weeks ago, this is strong language. Jesus’ experience so far has told him that his message and his presence is not welcome among those in positions of leadership in the church. What is more the fate of John the Baptist is evidence that the powers representing Rome will, at the very least, view him with suspicion if not fear (something that the warning of the Pharisees in today’s reaffirms). Jesus is not going to Jerusalem because he is seeking glory or even because wants to see the great city. He has set his face to Jerusalem because he knows that this is where he will face his destiny.

The (unexpected?) warning from the Pharisees provides an occasion for Jesus to reflect on his mission. His response to Herod (“tell that fox”) indicates that nothing – not even the threat of death will deter him or cause him to turn from the path that has been set before him. There is work to be done and he will continue to fulfill his purpose: ‘today and tomorrow and on the third day I finish’. It is easy to see a reference to Easter here, but in colloquial terms ‘today and tomorrow’ relate to what Jesus is doing now and ‘the third day’ means ‘in due course’. Jesus’ listeners (who do not have our benefit of hindsight) will have heard this as an indication of Jesus’ resolve, his determination to complete the task set before him whatever the obstacles. The threat of death is no obstacle. Jesus will not be distracted or deterred. He has a task to fulfill and he will not turn aside until it is completed. “Today and tomorrow and the next day I must be on my way.” (He must stay where he is until he has done all that he is meant to do, but then he must continue to Jerusalem no matter the personal cost.)

In this way Jesus is nothing like his forbear Abraham who, despite being chosen by God and having received God’s promises, needs constant reassurance. Abraham is not willing to face danger and he often takes the easy way out – making up his own mind about the best way forward rather than trusting in God’s purpose for him. He is easily distracted by his desire for an heir and his anxiety that the kingdoms through which he passes will not allow his party to pass through in safety.

Jesus has no such concerns. Whatever the situation, whatever possible obstacles lie ahead, he is utterly focused on God’s will for him. Jesus’ resolve, his commitment, determination and single-mindedness are what stand out in today’s gospel and are what provide an example, an incentive for our own practice this Lent and for our Christian vocation as a whole.

In comparison to Jesus, how do we stack up? In the light of Jesus’ determination to see his mission to its end, we should ourselves how much we are concerned for our own safety, our own comfort, our own goals for our future? How often do we let our own timidity, or our lack of confidence prevent us from placing our trust completely in God? How often and how easily are we distracted from our primary goal of being a disciple of Christ How many of our resolutions have faltered because we did not have strength to follow through?? Indeed how many times have we been sidetracked from the task we set ourselves for this Lent?

I leave you with two prayers from A Prayer Book for Australia, that you might like to pray daily this Lent and which might help to strengthen your resolve to be better disciples of Christ.

Christ, whose insistent call
disturbs our settled lives:
give us discernment to hear your word,
grace to relinquish our tasks,
and courage to follow empty-handed
wherever you may lead. (210)

Loving God,
give us wisdom and understanding
in discerning your will for our lives.
Teach us in all things
to seek first your honour and glory.
May we perceive what is right,
have courage to pursue it
and grace to accomplish it,
through Jesus Christ our Lord. (213, adapted).

May we have grace to relinquish all that stands between God’s will and ourselves and our selfish desires and may we have the courage to pursue whatever it is that God might ask of us.

Wholly whole, holy whole

March 5, 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pearls” when we need them most

February 26, 2022

Transfiguration – 2022
Luke 9:28-39
Marian Free

In the name of God who is present at the best and the worst moments of our lives. Amen.

There are times in most people’s lives when we feel overwhelmed and when a future without stress or worry seems a distant dream. At such times – times when we long for a break in the traffic, any sort of relief that might allow time for oneself, time to take a breath, time to process what is happening or just time to finish one of the tasks at hand – God sends us “pearls”. If we are paying attention and if we haven’t allowed ourselves to become totally inward looking, we will notice an insight, a smile, an affirmation or a word of thanks that, for a moment at least, creates a moment of joy and is a reminder of why we are doing what we are doing. Such moments, however brief, seem to lighten the load and encourage us to continue. They are a reminder that the present won’t last forever and that even if it does, God will be with us through it all.

Is this the purpose of Jesus’ Transfiguration? Is Jesus’ mountaintop experience for him – rather than for the disciples as we are generally led to believe? This is the view of Scott Hoezee . If we take a look at the wider context rather than focussing on the actual event, we will see the pressures that Jesus is facing and conclude that this moment in time might be just what Jesus needed to strengthen his resolve and to give him the courage to continue his journey.

From the mid-point in chapter 9 the whole mood of the gospel changes – Jesus has announced to his disciples that he is to undergo great suffering, that he will be rejected by the elders, chief priests and the scribes and be killed (9:21). Then towards the end of the chapter, we hear that “when the days drew near for him to be taken up” Jesus “set” his face to go to Jerusalem. Knowing what lay ahead of him, it seems that it took all of Jesus resolve to begin his journey. (This is the meaning of ‘starizo’, ‘to make firm, to strengthen’). Jesus is not going to Jerusalem because he wants to, but because he knows that he has to.

The Transfiguration provides a fulcrum between Jesus’ ministry in Galilee and his journey to Jerusalem, to suffering and death. He will need all the strength and all the support that he can muster for what lies ahead. Sadly, it does not seem that he will find the latter among his disciples. As Hoezee points out, “the disciples seem lost in a fog of cluelessness”. When Jesus tells them that he will suffer and die, they have nothing to say. Indeed, as Luke tells the story, eight days later they have still not mentioned or discussed his momentous announcement! How unsupported and isolated Jesus must have felt – a feeling that would only have been exacerbated when, having healed the boy who was suffering from convulsion, Jesus announced once more that he was to be handed over, only to be met by incomprehension on the part of the disciples. It must have seemed to Jesus that he could not look to his friends for understanding, let alone encouragement when they bickered about who was the greatest, sought to rain down fire on villages that did not receive them and failed to grasp the nature of discipleship (9:44-end).

Just when Jesus might have been feeling overwhelmed and discouraged, God stepped in – providing support in the form of Moses and Elijah and affirming Jesus’ status as chosen, as Son. If this does not convince you that the Transfiguration was for Jesus and not for the disciples, there are other details that support this position. Moses and Elijah, both of whom know the cost of following God, speak exclusively to Jesus. What is more they speak about his departure – ‘which he was to accomplish at Jerusalem’. This can only mean that the two figures from the past were enlisted by God to reinforce the direction in which Jesus was to go and to give him encouragement to continue. (There is no other reason for this discussion.)

The disciples are not privy to the conversation (otherwise we might know more details). Indeed, the disciples nearly miss the event altogether, because despite the fact that Jesus’ clothes had become as bright as lightening they are barely awake. Again, they misunderstand the nature of the event (wanting to build dwellings) and again, not only do they not discuss what has happened with Jesus, they do not mention what they have seen to anyone.

It is only the voice from heaven that is directed to the disciples: ‘This is my Son, my Chosen, listen to him!’ The voice that spoke to Jesus at his baptism, now speaks to the disciples, urging them to pay attention, to take note, to listen. The voice may have had a dual purpose – reminding Jesus at this crucial point in his journey that he is beloved and chosen and encouraging the disciples to wake up and to fulfill their role as Jesus’ support crew.

Though intended specifically for Jesus, this event speaks to us in our own journeys through the world and especially to those times when the present threatens to crush us and when the future seems bleak. Instead of falling into despair, Jesus found time to pray, sought support from his friends and paid attention to presence of God. We too should seek solace in prayer, share our difficulties with those closest to us and be alert to the ways in which God might be encouraging us and lightening our load.

Let us pray that we are never so caught up in our own trials and tribulations that we fail to notice God’s breaking in with those momentary reprieves that enable us to continue with our journeys. Let us not miss the ‘pearls’ that God so generously gives us.

Above and beyond

February 19, 2022

Epiphany 7 – 2022
Luke 6:27-38
Marian Free

In the name of God whose ways are not our ways. Amen.

An area of study for theological students is homiletics which, according to Wikipedia, is ‘the application of the general principles of rhetoric to the specific art of preaching’. Rhetoric is the art of persuasive speech that was developed long ago in Ancient Greece. There were schools that taught rhetoric and there are books and books by a variety of these ancient scholars who taught techniques like diatribe (an argument with an imaginary opponent), false conclusions, and the use of series ( 3, 5 and more ) and of rhetorical questions. Many of these tools are so ingrained in our language that we use them unwittingly and certainly many of our politicians and public speakers use them to persuade us to their way of thinking. Paul was a master of rhetoric and he used every technique available to decimate the arguments of his detractors and to convince the recipients of his letters that his understanding of the gospel was the only possible view.

Jesus on the other hand, was skilled at the rabbinic forms of argument as can be seen in his debates with the Jewish leaders.

But back to homiletics – the art of preaching. It will be clear to most congregations that not every preacher has studied (or mastered) the art of preaching – some of us speak too long or don’t have a consistent argument. Whether or not I am successful at the art is of course up for debate. Homiletics was not taught when I attended theological college but along the way I have learned that it is important to gain the audience’s attention (with a story or example) and to try to have just one take away message.

According to these basic principles, Jesus (or Luke as his recorder) has completely failed in what we have labelled as the ‘Sermon on the Plain’. As can be seen from today’s gospel, what biblical scholars have labeled as a ‘sermon’ is in fact a collection of loosely related sayings. Indeed they almost certainly began as a collection of Jesus’ sayings which were gathered together according to some theme or other known only to the original compiler. It is highly unlikely that Jesus, faced with a large and attentive crowd, felt that the best that he had to offer was a series of unconnected sayings . Even with the best memories in the world Jesus’ audience would have found it harder to remember a list of sayings than to have remembered stories or parables. I don’t imagine that after Jesus’ death his followers sat around and recited lists of sayings. More likely than not they would have remembered them one by one, possibly discussing what they meant before remembering something similar that Jesus said.

In whatever context Jesus delivered the sayings attributed to him, they were memorable. This I suggest is because they were and are so counter intuitive and counter cultural that they make an audience sit up straight and ask: “‘love your enemies.’ Did Jesus really say that?” “‘Give without expecting something in return.’ Who does that?” and “surely we can’t be compared with sinners – can we?”

The drive for self-preservation is at the core of every living being. In humankind it reveals itself in competitiveness – for land, for resources, for power – competitiveness that spills over into aggression when we feel that our access to land, resources or power is threatened. We see this in the build up of troops on the border between Russia and Ukraine, the take-over of Afghanistan by the Taliban, the violence against the Rohingya in Myanmar, the on-going conflicts in Ethiopia and Sudan and the far too many other struggles for ascendancy between nations and races all over the world. We have witnessed this need to look after number one most clearly during the pandemic. The emptying of supermarket shelves as people took more than they needed at the expense of those who did not have the resources – physical or financial – to obtain the bare minimum; the hoarding of vaccines by nations that could afford them, and the sometimes inhumane closing of borders to protect those within them.

How Jesus’ sayings must have rankled Jesus’ audience! There was nothing in Jewish teaching that encouraged love of enemies and as for being compared with sinners our gospel records make it quite clear that the ethic of the day was to separate oneself from sinners, tax collectors and prostitutes. How could Jesus possibly imply that they were equal – in loving, doing good and lending – with those who were so obviously outside the definition of ‘good’.

Jesus’ challenge in these sayings (which are loosely connected by the theme of love) is that we who believe should not be self-absorbed and self-satisfied, that we go over and above what is expected – in love, in generosity and is forgiveness, that we should confront (suppress even) our human nature and that we should behave in ways that reflect the presence of the divine in us – the divine that is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. In other words we should not only love our neighbour, but also our enemy, that instead of taking advantage of others we should allow them to take advantage of us , that when asked to do help we go over and beyond and, that we give generously without expecting anything in return.

How slow, how resistant we, as Christians, have been to take these teachings to heart! How far short have we fallen from these ideals! How little are we distinguishable from the society around us!

It is only by taking Jesus’ words to heart and acting on them that our lives will become more and more like that of his and that we will stand out from the world in which we find ourselves and ultimately be among those who will lead the transformation of the world.