Archive for the ‘Mark’s gospel’ Category

Domesticating God

November 29, 2014

Advent 1 – 2014

Mark 13:24-37 (Isaiah 64:1-9)

Marian Free

 In the name of God whose power exceeds anything that we can know or comprehend. Amen.

This week I was half way through a wedding rehearsal when there was the most eerie sound – a sound like the intake of breath that ended with what I can only describe as a rather loud popping noise. Moments before I had seen black clouds to the south and so I knew without further investigation that what I had heard was the decrease in pressure before the clouds unleashed a torrent of hail. Even though I knew what to expect, the experience was terrifying. All along the southern side of the church hail smashed into our beautiful stained-glass windows – shattering the glass and sending shards flying from one side of the church to the other. The force and impact of the hail was extraordinary and all that I could think about was finding a place in which we could wait out the storm in safety.

Hardly had the storm begun than it was over – leaving a swathe of destruction throughout Brisbane. Windows were shattered, roofs blown from houses, trees uprooted, cars crushed, power lines brought down, roads and even stations flooded.

Experienced up close, nature is absolutely formidable and totally uncontrollable. In the face of such ferocity human ingenuity is completely ineffectual. No amount of technological advance can withstand the force of nature at its worst. The best that we can do in the face of such power is to hope that we will survive and, having survived, pick up the pieces and start again.

Natural events – earthquakes, storms, tsunamis – all expose the insignificance and vulnerability of humanity in comparison with the vastness and potency of creation as a whole. Earthquakes, floods and tsuamis can destroy entire cities and change the topography of the land. Floods and mudslides can carry all before them. Nature is as violent and unpredictable as it is benign and life sustaining. Despite our best efforts, it cannot be manipulated or bent to our will.

If creation is beyond our reach to control, how much less is the God behind creation within our grasp to manage or direct?

The prophet Isaiah knew this and could only imagine that if God were to visit the earth it could only be in a dramatic and world-shattering way, that the God who created the universe and all that is in it was more powerful and more terrifying than anything that the natural world could throw at us. God’s coming would tear the heavens apart and God’s presence would do nothing less than change the face of the earth – the mountains themselves would quake, the valleys be raised and the mountains laid low, there would be no need for sun and moon, for God would provide perpetual light.

The gospels took up this theme and developed it even further. As the gospel writers saw it, the coming of God would completely transform creation – the sun would be darkened, nor would the moon give its light, the stars would fall and even the powers of heaven will be shaken at the coming of the Son of Man.

Despite these breath-taking and frightening images, I suspect that most of us are rather blasé about the Second Coming of Jesus. If we think about it at all, we associate it with our death or else we have rather romantic images of Jesus’ arriving peacefully on a cloud and gathering us to himself. Centuries of Christianity have led to a certain complacency, a tendency to domesticate God, a belief that all is right between ourselves and God and an assumption that we can know and understand God and God’s purpose for us and for the world.

The readings today put the lie to that kind of thinking. We are reminded that God is magnificent and awesome – beyond our ability to understand, let alone control. We are forced to consider that in the scale of things and in comparison to the universe as a whole we are of less significance and are less powerful than a speck of dust. If nature cannot be contained by our best efforts, how much less are we able to control God.

Advent begins, as the church year ends, with dramatic and vivid descriptions of God’s coming among us. The intention is not to make us cower in terror, but to fill us with awe at the nature and power of God, to remind us of who we are before God, to prick our inflated egos and to expose our arrogance and self-reliance.

Whether God’s coming is as quiet and unobtrusive as a birth in a far off land, or as dramatic and earth shattering as the re-arrangement of the universe, it will not to be caught unprepared. It does us good to be reminded that God is always just beyond our grasp because familiarity can lead to complacency and lead us to believe that we are in control when nothing could be further from the truth.

Moving the boundaries

August 16, 2014

Pentecost 10. 2014

Matthew 15:21-28

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who is constantly breaking down barriers and opening new possibilities for existence. Amen.

The account of the Canaanite woman is perhaps the most confronting story in the New Testament. Our familiarity with the Gospels means that we are not at all shocked by the way that Jesus befriends sinners and eats with them. Nor are we surprised that he allows a woman of the street to wash his feet. It seems perfectly reasonable to us that Jesus should heal on a Sabbath. But this story is shocking Jesus is rude and unsympathetic. He refuses to respond to a mother’s agonised cry for help. Worse still, not only does Jesus ignore the woman’s pleas, he adds insult to injury when he justifies his refusal by likening the woman to a household pet that does not deserve the same food as the children.

This hard, uncompromising Jesus is almost unrecognisable. Is this, we might ask, the same Jesus who only a short while ago had such compassion for the crowd that even though he needed to be alone he healed the sick and fed more than 5,000 people?

What is going on here? Such an unflattering and unexpected description of Jesus demands further explanation. Why would the Gospel writers include an account in which Jesus is so uncompromising, so rude? What is it that causes Jesus to withhold healing in this situation? Did he think that he would find the peace he was seeking outside Israel’s borders and did the woman interrupt that peace? We may not be able to find a satisfactory answer to those questions, but we can draw the conclusion that the purpose of this story in Matthew’s gospel is to explain how it is that the Gentiles have come to faith in a Jewish Messiah. – why it is that the faith community consists of both Jew and Gentile.

There are two versions of Jesus’ encounter with a Gentile woman in Mark and Matthew. A comparison between the two accounts shows that Mark’s record of the meeting is much less confrontational. Matthew has heightened the contest in a number of ways, which makes the outcome even more surprising. He elevates the position of the woman and he emphasises Jesus’ refusal to help. The woman recognises Jesus as the Son of David and falls down and worships him. This makes her a more formidable combatant than the woman in Mark’s account as she knows who Jesus is at a time when Jesus’ disciples have not yet made up their minds. The battle lines are more clearly drawn In Matthew, Jesus ignores the woman’s request not once but twice and his refusal to acknowledge her is supported by the disciples who urge him to send her away. Jesus’ response to the woman is strengthened by the assertion that his responsibility is only to the lost sheep of Israel. Matthew makes the woman stronger, Jesus harsher.

The basic elements of the story are the same in both gospels. Tyre and Sidon are on the Mediterranean Sea – a long way from Galilee and in territory that is primarily Gentile. It is Jesus, not the woman, who is out of place. The woman who seems to appear out of nowhere is desperate. An evil spirit oppresses her daughter. When Jesus rejects her plea for a second time she is not deterred. So confident is she in his authority and in his ability that she informs him that the crumbs will be enough. In her wisdom (or humility) she has understood that there is more than enough to go around and that even the left-overs will be more than sufficient to meet her need[1]. By helping her daughter, she suggested Jesus’ ministry to Israel would in no way be diminished.

Jesus is outside his territory on the woman’s home ground and she demands that he take her faith seriously. Consciously or unconsciously, the woman foreshadows the future. After Jesus’ death, the gospel will be preached in the regions beyond Israel. There the Gentiles will recognise Jesus and will demand their place in the community of faith.

In the final analysis, this account is much more than a story about one woman’s faith. It is in fact a reflection about boundaries, boundaries that turn out not to be rigid and immovable but fluid and ever-changing. The world into which Jesus was born was very clear about who was in and who was out and the lines between the two were fiercely guarded. Belonging was more than a birthright it also required adherence to strict purity laws. One could be born a Jew but still be an outsider. Anyone with a disability or skin disease was considered unclean, tax collectors and prostitutes were excluded. Temporary exclusion could result from contact with a corpse, a flow of blood or a failure to observe the purity laws. It was close to impossible for anyone from outside to be given admission to God’s chosen people. The woman’s insight and her refusal to be denied made it clear that the boundaries were moving and that Jesus’ message was intended not just for a few, but for the whole world.

Our readings today remind us that God doesn’t observe conventions or maintain strict boundaries. Genesis tells us that by default Joseph, the Hebrew slave of Pharaoh, becomes the ruler of all Egypt. In Romans Paul reminds us that, contrary to expectation, wIld olive shoots (the Gentiles) are grafted on to the rich root of the olive tree (the Jews).

The faith that grew in Jesus’ name shattered all previous boundaries and admitted as full members those who were previously on the outside or who were languishing in the shadows.

The Canaanite woman demanded and received recognition for her faith. She challenged Jesus’ narrow mind-set and forced him to think differently. In a world in which boundaries are becoming drawn ever tighter or being raised against perceived threats or new fears, perhaps it is time for us to consider where we stand and to ask ourselves whether our fences represent the mind of God or whether they are simply there to separate ourselves from others and to protect the ways of the past.

[1] An interesting insight in view of the quantity of leftovers from the feeding of the 5,000.

An Extraordinary story

February 9, 2013

Epiphany 5

Luke 5:1-10

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who calls us, imperfect though we are, to follow Jesus and to share the gospel with others. Amen.

Those among you whose enjoy puzzles will know the “Find the Difference” puzzles. Even those who do not enjoy puzzles may have had to find the difference between two pictures as part of their early schooling. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, the puzzle involves two almost identical pictures which are placed side by side. The observer is asked to find the differences. Usually, if there are say, ten differences, the first seven or so are relatively easy – the dog is black in picture (a) and white in picture (b), a cloud in picture (a) is missing in picture (b) and so on. However, the last couple of differences tend to be more subtle and are often overlooked. For example, the curtain in picture (a) has four pleats and in picture (b) it only has four.

It is a different exercise, but we can play “find the difference” using the gospels. Placing one or more gospel passages side by side allows us to note the different ways in which Jesus’ life and teaching is recorded by the different authors. For example, last week we noticed how differently Luke presents the account of Jesus in the synagogue and we made some educated guesses as to the reason for the differences. In his re-telling of the story, Luke is influenced by his social justice programme and his desire to demonstrate that the inclusion of the Gentiles was always part of God’s plan.

Having noted that Luke has a different agenda, it will therefore come as no surprise to note that Luke’s report of the call of Peter, Andrew, James and John is also quite different from that of Mark. This week we will have a look at the actual texts. (You might like to see how many differences you can spot.)

Mark 1:16-20 As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

Luke 5:1-10 Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signalled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.”

In comparing the readings we note, as we might expect, that Luke has expanded and elaborated Mark’s account. Another obvious difference is that the sea is given a different name. In Mark, Jesus walks by the Sea of Galilee, in Luke, the crowds press in on Jesus at the lake of Gennesaret. In Mark Peter and Andrew are fishing from the shore, James and John are mending their nets. In Luke all four have left their boats and are washing their nets. Luke includes a miraculous haul of fish which is not in Mark and while Mark leaps straight into the call of the disciples, Luke precedes the account with a vast amount of material not considered necessary to Mark – the birth narrative and the genealogy.

Those are the obvious differences. A more subtle difference, but one which is important for our understanding of the Gospel of Luke is this: Peter now has a boat, he and Andrew are not standing on the shore casting their nets but are boat-owners. The comparison between the two families has been softened or obliterated. James and John are no longer set apart by the fact that their family owns a boat and has servants – both sets of brothers now have a boat. Finally, in Luke Peter’s response to the miracle of the fish is a significant addition, as is his designation for Jesus – “Lord”.

To understand the changes made by Luke it is important to understand something about him and why he is writing. For the purpose of today’s gospel, we need to note again to whom the gospel is addressed: “most excellent Theophilus”.  Luke’s re-telling is influenced in no small part by the person to whom he is telling the story. From his name and Luke’s form of address we suspect that Theophilus is a wealthy person of some status who lives a long way distant from the villages of Galilee. This means that Luke has to tell the story in such a way that it will not only make sense to Theophilus, but also in such a way that it will not offend him.

In order to do this, Luke makes some basic changes in the way he tells Mark’s account. He moves the gospel to the city, removes the poor, uneducated people and makes it clear from the very beginning not only that Peter is a leader in the church but that Jesus is “Lord” – a title used for a prominent person in the Empire. Luke changes Peter’s socio-economic status and his role in the early church is established. Peter recognises and names Jesus and Jesus is named in a way that would indicate Jesus’ significance to Theophilus. (A poor fisherman and an itinerant preacher may not have grabbed the attention of Theophilus, but he is able to recognise a boat owner and a “lord” as people worthy of his attention.)

Luke would have had no thought that by changing the way he told the story, he was changing the story. He would have thought that he was faithfully recounting the story of Jesus and the church, but that he was doing it in such a way as to ensure its reception not only by Theophilus, but also to the whole of the Roman Empire.

It is extraordinary to think that a man from a tiny village in a remote part of the Empire, who was executed as a trouble-maker, should have made such an impact that his story was told at all. It is even more extraordinary that four people thought it so important that the story be told that they told it in such a way that others would grasp its significance. And perhaps, most extraordinary of all, is that two thousand years later, we are still telling the story and are moved to faith by it.

Jesus’ baptism

January 13, 2013

Baptism of Jesus – 2013

Luke 3:15-18, 21-22

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who through our baptism anoints us calls us to serve. Amen.

You will have noticed that not only is this morning’s gospel brief, but that only two of the five verses specifically refer to Jesus’ baptism. Further, though this may not have been obvious if you were listening and not reading, the gospel consists of two sets of disconnected verses from Luke, chapter 3. Those who prepared our lectionary have joined a small section of John’s preaching with the actual baptism of Jesus. Though not linked by Luke, together these verses give us some insight into John’s understanding of Jesus.

In this context, John’s preaching focuses on three things: God’s wrath (associated with the final judgement), how to live (to avoid God’s wrath) and John’s predictions about the Christ (who is associated with God’s wrath). In response to the wondering of the crowd, John the Baptist makes it clear that he is not the Christ. He goes on to list a number of points to back up his claim – the one who is coming will be more powerful than he. He, John, is so far removed from the Christ that he would not even be able to perform the lowliest of tasks for him. He is baptizing with water, the Christ will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire. John may be preparing the people for judgement, the Christ will carry out the judgement (the winnowing fork is in his hands). John expects that the ministry of the Christ, will in other words, be far superior to his own.

John’s preaching is addressed to “the crowds” – to those who have come out from Jerusalem to hear him and to be baptised. Interestingly, Jesus is not mentioned as one of their number nor even as someone who comes out to hear John. It is not until Luke has reported John’s imprisonment by Herod that we discover that Jesus was baptised though it is not clear by whom or why. If the gospel’s chronology is correct, John is already in jail when Jesus is baptised. This raises a number of questions. Why record the story at all? Was someone other than baptising and if there was why doesn’t Luke tell us who? Was Jesus baptised by one’s of John’s disciples. We will never know.

It has to be said that Luke’s account of Jesus’ baptism is tantalizingly stark. It provides some detail but gives no explanation or interpretation of the events. What we learn from Luke’s gospel is that Jesus was apparently baptised after everyone else (perhaps not by John whom Herod has locked up), he is praying when the heavens open, the Holy Spirit descends bodily as a dove and a voice from heaven declares Jesus to be God’s beloved Son. So much information is crowded into two sentences (one in the Greek)! Jesus’ reaction to the extraordinary occurrences is not recorded nor is that of the crowds who presumably witnessed something. Such dramatic events are reported in a matter of fact manner, completely lacking in commentary or explanation.

A comparison with Mark’s gospel (Luke’s source) reveals that some features of this account are unique to Luke – in particular the fact that Jesus is praying, that Luke omits to say from where Jesus came and implies that it is not John who performs the baptism of Jesus. Mark’s gospel identifies Jesus’ baptism as the moment at which it becomes clear who Jesus is. Luke does use the baptism as a transition to Jesus’ public ministry but he does not link the two events in Jesus’ life – one does not lead to the other. At this point in Luke’s narrative he has no need to explain Jesus’ call and mission. He has already established Jesus’ identity in his birth narrative. In contrast to Mark, in the first two chapters of Luke’s gospel Jesus has already been announced as “Saviour, Lord and Messiah and as Son”. The presence of the Spirit in his life has been plain since his unique conception. Jesus’ call is not new, as a teenager in the Temple, he seems very aware of who he is and of his relationship with God.

While Luke includes a report of Jesus’ baptism, his purpose is different from that of his source. It seems that in writing about the event, the author of Luke is concerned first and foremost to demonstrate divine approval of Jesus and of his ministry. When this reference to the events surrounding Jesus’ baptism are seen in the context of the rest of Luke’s gospel two other factors become obvious. One is the place of prayer in Luke’s gospel. Jesus prays before all his significant actions (before choosing the disciples for example). A second is this – there are two occasions in Luke’s gospel on which a voice from heaven affirms Jesus and reveals God’s approval of him and of his ministry. Both occasions mark a significant change of direction in Jesus life and ministry. After his Baptism Jesus begins his public ministry and after the second occasion – the Transfiguration – Jesus begins the journey to Jerusalem and to death.

Luke appears to use Jesus’ baptism as both a turning point in Jesus’ life, but also as an opportunity to inform the readers that Jesus is no ordinary person but one approved by, chosen by and set apart by God and that God is affirming his choice and his delight in the chosen one.

Each gospel is written with a particular audience in mind and each gospel tells us a little bit about the author. We honour the text best when we try to understand what is going on behind it. Often that is only our most informed guess, but if we try to get a sense of why the story was written as it was we get a deeper and richer understanding not only of the story, but of its development. A better comprehension of the different ways in which the evangelists understood and reported the accounts of Jesus’ life helps us to understand the differences, to realise that there is more than one way of looking at things and gives us the tools to enter into debate with those who are skeptical or have yet to believe.

The gospel writers did not just blindly write down what they heard from others. They considered the information at hand and reflected on the best way to share that with the world. We can do no better than to follow their example.

 

 

For the commentary on the Gospel I am heavily reliant on Fitzmyer, Joseph. The Gospel According to Luke I-IX. New York: Double Day and Company, 1979, though I take full responsibility for the way in which I have used the material and the conclusion drawn.

Do not be deceived

November 17, 2012

Pentecost 25

Mark 13:1-11

Marian Free

In the name of God who alone can distinguish evil from good. Amen.

Some of you (especially those of you who have computers) may have heard or seen this quiz question. If so I apologise. The question goes something like this: It is time to elect a new world leader. There are three leading candidates. Candidate A associates with crooked politicians and consults with astrologers. He has had two mistresses; chain smokes and drinks 8 – 10 martinis a day. Candidate B has been kicked out of office twice previously, he sleeps until noon, used opium in college and drinks about a quart of whisky every evening. Candidate C is a decorated war hero. He is a vegetarian. He doesn’t smoke and drinks only an occasional beer. If you were voting, which of the three would be your choice?

If you chose A – the corrupt chain smoker – you would have been voting for Franklin D. Roosevelt – former president of the United States of America. Candidate B is Winston Churchill – the whisky drinker who can’t get up before noon and former Prime Minister of Great Britain. At first glance, squeaky clean Candidate C, appears to be the obvious choice. That is, until you discover that the vegetarian war hero is none other than Adolf Hitler former Chancellor of Germany. The quiz is designed to remind us that the difference between good and evil is not always evident on the surface and not easily measured by human standards. Each of the three candidates had serious flaws, but only one turned out to be megalomaniac who systematically killed any opponents and who sent more than six million people to the gas chambers.

Throughout the ages there have always been people who, by the sheer force of their personality or skill with words are able to sway whole groups of people – sometimes to do things that in other circumstances they would not do. Hitler was one such person. By all accounts he was an unattractive man with few obvious skills. He spoke badly and yet, through his angry bluster, he managed to capture the imagination of the German people after the First World War.

It is when things are not going so well that people are most vulnerable to the promises of another and most susceptible to the influence of a strong leader. This was certainly the case in post-war Germany. It is well-known that the Treaty of Versailles left that nation with huge debts and no opportunity to re-build. It also left the Germans with a deep sense of resentment. At the same time, the emergence of communism to the east and within Germany itself was, to some, a cause of concern. In 1930 four million Germans were unemployed. Hitler’s rhetoric spoke to the situation of the German people and gave them comfort, a sense of hope for the future and restored their national pride. Hitler united the nation against a common enemy – Marxism and Jews. He played on the fear and insecurity of the German people and, when he spoke, he created a sense of drama and power that held his listeners in his grip. He would arrive late to speaking engagements thus increasing the anticipation of the audience and when he finally arrived, he would wait for complete silence before he began, intensifying the illusion of authority and power.

Jesus knew only too well that, in times of persecution and stress people – including his disciples – are more ready to believe in someone who promises salvation. He knows or guesses what lies ahead for his followers, what trials or tribulations can be expected and he wants them to be prepared. So he warns them: “Many will come in my name saying: ‘I am he’ and many will be deceived.” If his followers feel threatened or disempowered, if the present feels untenable and the future seems bleak Jesus is conscious that his disciples will be looking for answers and will be susceptible to those who offer a solution. He knows that it will not be easy even for his closest friends to distinguish true from false, the Son of Man from any other messianic pretender.

The past century has borne witness to rise of many strong and persuasive characters whose presence and speech have been able to inspire and influence thousands of people from all walks of life. Like Hitler, Martin Luther King and John F. Kennedy encapsulated the spirit of the American people. Such was the power of their words that their speeches are still quoted and recognised today. Another great orator, Billy Graham drew enormous crowds to his meetings and through his passionate sermons and emotive hymns stirred deep feelings in his audience and convinced them to give their lives to Jesus.

For good or for evil people like Hitler, Billy Graham, Martin Luther King and JFK stirred the hearts and minds of their generations and drew from them an almost unquestioning loyalty and devotion, a willingness to go wherever they would lead. As Jesus recognised twenty centuries ago, distinguishing the good from the bad is not always as self-evident as we would like to believe. Good people, including the churches were taken in by Hitler and caught up by his ability to convince them that he and he alone could solve the problems that beset their nation, that only he could re-build their country, restore their self-respect and regain their position on the world stage.

What makes the difference between a Hitler and a Billy Graham? A Gandhi or a Mugabe? All of them use powerful and emotive speeches to tug at the heartstrings of their listeners and to hold them in the palm of their hands. Both were able, as it were, to bend others to their will. The reactions of the crowds who heard them were much the same, yet Hitler was a force for evil and Billy Graham a force for good (or at least not for harm). History has demonstrated how easy it is to be deceived, how readily we allow ourselves to be led astray and how difficult it is to clearly distinguish between a Hitler and a JFK. Past experience shows us that we are not always clear as to what ideals we should be persuaded and there is plenty of evidence to suggest that when we are moved by a powerful speaker that we are not always able to discriminate between what serves our own self-interest and what serves the greater good.

In today’s gospel, Jesus’ disciples ask him for a sign. In response he warns them to be cautious, not to be taken in by everyone who claims to have a hold on the truth. In its context, Jesus’ warning relates to the coming of the end, but it is a warning that holds true for every age and every situation. History has proven Jesus’ anxiety to be warranted – people, including his own followers are easily led astray.

As today’s gospel implies – there are no easy solutions, no quick fixes. Being a disciple of Jesus doesn’t mean that life will go smoothly, just that Jesus will be with us. If and when we face trials and tribulations, we must be careful not to follow those who offer us a way out, but instead face all difficulties head on, confident that the Holy Spirit will not abandon us. Others may inspire us, some may persuade us, but only Jesus can lead us to where we are intended to go.

Taking risks, trusting God

November 10, 2012

Pentecost 24

Mark 12:38-44    http://bible.oremus.org

Marian Free

 In the name of God who sees all things. Amen.

 I’ve been re-watching the TV series Scrubs  – a comedy which follows four young doctors as they begin their working life. One of the things that I like about the programme is that the characters are so complex and therefore believable. In fact, most of the characters are quite seriously flawed.  For example, Elliot, one of the young doctors, is totally neurotic and incredibly insecure about her looks and about her medical skills. She constantly worries about what other people think about her. In one episode she begins going out with a nurse. The relationship begins quite well but doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. A major problem is that Elliot is trying so hard not to let Paul know how crazy she is, that she continues to put up barriers which means that the relationship remains superficial. It is only when she lets her guard down and allows Paul to see the real Elliot that they can move forward.

The sanest and most secure of the four interns is Chris Turk, known as Turk. Turk is in love with Carla who thinks she knows how everyone else should run their lives and has no hesitation in sharing her thoughts with them. On one occasion – despite Turk’s advice – she tells a senior doctor that he shouldn’t be getting back together with his ex-wife because they are no good for each other. When she is proven to be wrong, she sees herself clearly for the first time and is surprised that instead of being insightful as she has always thought, she is bossy and interfering. As a consequence she falls into despondency and tells Turk that never again will she tell anyone what to do. His response is wonderful. He says: “Yes you will, and it doesn’t matter because I love you.” It doesn’t matter because I love you.

It is not always easy to be open and honest about ourselves or to ourselves. Especially when we are young we worry what others think about us, afraid that they will not like us if they see us as we really are. We put up defensive barriers to keep people out or we act out roles in the hope that we will fool people into believing that we are clever or brave or whatever it is that we think we are not but that we should be. On the other hand we may be genuinely blind to parts of ourselves and recognising our faults can be painful process. However, as our fictional stories remind us, if we take the risk that we will be accepted and that others will continue to love us even if we are opinionated or timid, insecure or bossy, we will stop being afraid to be who we are. Our lives will be freer and fuller because we will no longer be wasting time hiding our true selves, worrying that others don’t like us or beating ourselves up because we fall short of our own expectations. What is more, when we love ourselves and allow ourselves to be loved for who we are, it is then that we can begin to be transformed into the person we would like to be.

For at least the past 1,000 years, members of the church in England have begun their worship with the following words: “Almighty God, to whom all hearts are open, all desires known and from whom no secrets are hidden ..”  Week after week, year after year, we say what is perhaps the most terrifying prayer that we will ever utter. That is, every time we come to the Eucharist, the first thing that we do is to acknowledge that before God our very souls are laid bare. The secrets of our hearts, our hidden longings, our anger, disappointment, pettiness and resentment are exposed to God’s sight. There is nothing that God does not know about us and no place in which to hide.

I sometimes wonder that we can pray these words so blithely, that we don’t cringe under our pews or fall to our knees in fear. Surely few of us can bear that sort of scrutiny! And yet we are here, and once again, with heads held reasonably high, we have spoken the words which remind us that all that we are – the good, the bad and the ugly – is known to God. We are able to pray these words because for us they are not terrifying. Our faith not only allows us we have faith to see ourselves as God sees but also informs us that God loves us as we are.

These two factors – self acceptance and the knowledge of God’s unconditional love – are at the heart of the faith experience. More than that, these are the ingredients of an authentic life and an authentic faith – a life lived without falsehood and pretence and a relationship with God and with others that is utterly and sometimes, horribly real.

You might notice that Jesus’ harshest condemnation is reserved for hypocrites. In Matthew’s gospel Jesus rages and rages against the hypocrisy of the scribes and the Pharisees. “Woe to you scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!” Jesus says over and over again. And today, Jesus criticises the scribes who are more concerned with appearance and status than they are with God. They hope that their long robes and long prayers will hide their lack of compassion and their self-interest. The have failed to understand that they can hide nothing from God and that a real relationship is an honest relationship.

God doesn’t want a relationship with our public self, a relationship that is limited by obstacles that are put up, games that are played, or falsehoods that are perpetuated. God wants a relationship with our real self – that part of us that is scarred and imperfect. God wants us to trust him that however frail, however flawed we are God’s love will never, ever be withdrawn.

We can’t fool God, so there is really no point in trying. However embarrassing, however humiliating, however nasty our real self is – that is the self that God had a hand in creating, the self that God loves and the self with which God wants to be in relationship.

Opening ourselves to another can be a terrifying and risky thing to do, but the reward is a deep and authentic relationship in which all barriers are removed and we can be our true selves. The widow trusted God with everything  she had– maybe we can trust God with everything that we are.

Putting others first

October 20, 2012

Pentecost 21

Mark 10:32-45

Marian Free

 

In the name of God for whom the greatest is the one who serves. Amen.

I wonder what would be the result if I asked you to write down what you thought were the requirements for a good leader.  What would you value more highly – getting the job done or ensuring that everyone felt that they were making a contribution, forging ahead regardless or waiting for the slower ones to catch up, insisting that the task be done a particular way or seeking feedback from everyone else?

If you google “leadership” you will come up with at least three sites that claim to tell you the ten characteristics of a good leader and another that could come up with only seven. The site that caught my attention was strangely enough called Compare Business Products. Its definition of leadership was: “one’s ability to get others to willingly follow.” Vision was identified as a key characteristic of this style of leader: “A leader with vision has a clear, vivid picture of where to go, as well as a firm grasp on what success looks like and how to achieve it.” A good leader it says must also be able to communicate his or her vision and have the self discipline to work single-mindedly towards that vision and inspire others to do the same.

As well as vision, this article recommended that a leader have integrity, dedication, magnanimity, humility, openness. creativity, fairness, assertiveness and a sense of humour. An alternate site listed mission, vision, goal, competency, a strong team, communication skills, interpersonal skills, a “can do, get it done attitude”, inspiration and ambition as the qualities required by a superior leader.

Yet another felt that a good leader needed an exemplary character, enthusiasm, confidence, functioning in an orderly and purposeful manner, being able to tolerate ambiguity while remaining calm, an ability to think analytically, and a commitmentto excellence.

It is intriguing to note how different the lists are. I wonder to which, if any of these, Jesus would have given the stamp of approval.

In today’s gospel Jesus is making his way towards Jerusalem. His disciples are both amazed and afraid. It is in Jerusalem that Jesus is most likely to come into conflict with the religious leaders. It is in Jerusalem that his ideas will be most exposed to scrutiny and it is in Jerusalem where his popularity will be most threatening to the leaders of the church and to the might of Rome. No wonder the disciples are amazed. No wonder they are afraid. No wonder that they let Jesus go on ahead while they hang back! If he is in danger so are they.

Jesus’ leadership is one that includes his followers. He is not so focused on the future that he has forgotten those whom he leads. So he calls the twelve out of the crowd and explains what lies ahead for him. He tells them that he will be handed over to the chief priests and scribes who will condemn him to death and then to the Gentiles (the Romans) who will mock him, spit on him and kill him.

This is the third time that Jesus has told the disciples that he is going to die and for the third time the enormity of the revelation and the disciples’ complete failure to comprehend leads them to respond foolishly. This time it is James and John who respond foolishly. Despite Jesus’ previous teaching and despite the fact that more than once Jesus has used a child as an illustration of the ideal disciple, the two brothers ask to be elevated to positions of status or rank – not on earth – but in heaven! Did Jesus’ announcement make the brothers so anxious and so frightened that they wanted to assure their future –to be sure that following Jesus was going to be worth the risk? Or were they really seeking their own agrandisement at the expense of the other disciples?

Of course, we’ll never know what prompted their question. What we do know is that their request, not surprisingly, made the other disciples angry and led to Jesus to teach them about leadership. He points to the examples of leadership with which the disciples are familiar, in particular to the Romans who are ruling Palestine and whose rule is maintained by force. In the Empire power was in the hands of a few amongst whom there was fierce and sometimes violent competition for recognition and status.  Those who became rulers by wealth or by stealth ensured that they received due recognition for their status, and demanded subservience and submission from those whom they considered to be beneath them.

Jesus’ model of leadership is entirely different. In fact it is not leadership or authority that is to be prized among Jesus’ followers, but servanthood. The disciples are to stand out from the crowd, not by achieving notoriety or rank, but just the reverse. Instead of seeking recognition and status, the says, hey are to be as servants or slaves to others. This would have been an entirely novel idea in the first century, as it would be for many of our own generation. Just as it is difficult for us to get our head around the idea that the last will be first, so it a challenge to understand that in order to be the greatest in our community, we must be a slave to all.

Being a slave didn’t make it to any of our lists of the characteristics of a good leader though the first did include magnanimity and humility. The example Jesus set and the model Jesus asks us to adopt is that of putting others first – encouraging and building up those for whom we have responsibility – rather than demand that they follow our vision or do as we say. Leadership in the Jesus’ movement has nothing to do with self-agrandisement and everything to do with supporting, upholding and enhancing the lives of everyone else.  Honour is not something that can be bestowed or earned, but those who give of themselves for others, those who seek the well-being of others before their own are those who contrary to their own expectations, may discover themselves to be the greatest.

In the community formed by Jesus, there is no place for competition, no need to strive for elevation or promotion. Following in the footsteps of Jesus we relinquish all ambition and need for recognition and find our sense of purpose and meaning in putting others first.

What do you need to give up?

October 13, 2012

Pentecost 20

Mark 10:17-31

Marian Free

 In the name of God who gives us all that we need. Amen.

Years ago I bought a book titled Poor in Spirit. It is filled with stories written by people living and working among the poor – both in the United States and in the Third World. The stories are varied – one tells how powerful it is to hear the mullah call the faithful to prayer before dawn and to greet and be greeted by everyone saying “God be with you.”  Another writes of the presence of God in the barrenness of the desert. Yet another tells of a baptism in the cow shed to demonstrate to others that one can be a Christian and not abandon one’s culture.

Today I’d like to share the story called “My Mother’s Blessing”. It tells the story of a young African who is brought up by his mother after the death of his Father. Mother and son become very close – she buys and sells fish and he prepares their dinner while he waits for her to come home at night. There are other children – daughters who have left home – but in this culture it is the son who is expected to care for the mother as she ages. It is difficult therefore for the son to confide to his mother that he has felt a call to become a member of a religious community and hard for his mother to accept his sense of vocation. She tries to dissuade him from this course of action but eventually resigns herself to the situation and does not mention it again.

The day comes for the son to leave home. His mother is old and frail; she knows that they may never see each other again. “Come,” she says, “Let us make our last offering to God.” She suggests that they say The Lord’s Prayer, the Apostle’s Creed and ten Hail Marys. Then, in a strong and confident voice she blesses her son: “All belongs to God and returns to God. Who am I to oppose your calling? Go! The greatest riches are not on earth. And thanks be to God for having chosen you.”[1]

Another title for the book could have been: “The greatest riches are not on earth.” A common theme of the stories is a deep trust in and a dependence on God that is not determined by the storyteller’s physical, material or emotional situation.

In today’s gospel we have three stories that are ostensibly about wealth – the rich man, the eye of the needle and the benefits that result from giving up everything to follow Jesus. It is easy to draw the conclusion from these that Jesus is demanding those who follow him to give up all their possessions and abandon everything to follow him. This section of the gospel can have a way of making us feel uncomfortable – none of us has taken the radical step of abandoning everything in order to be a disciple of Jesus.

I can’t speak for you, but I know that compared to those who live on one dollar a day I know that I am among the rich. Jesus’ encounter with the rich man leaves me wondering whether I too should sell all that I have and give it to the poor. The saying about the camel and the needle forces me to ask: how rich do I have to be to be unable to fit through the eye of a needle. Peter’s question brings me back to the rich man – how much does Jesus expect me to give up in order to be a disciple?

The gospels have a great deal to say about how we should use our resources. Jesus’ example and teaching urge us to care for the poor and the outcast. The beatitudes make it clear that the values of the Kingdom are not the values of the world: “blessed are the poor” we are told. There have been thousands if not thousands of thousands of Christians who have abandoned comfort and wealth to serve Jesus or to serve others. That said, it is important that we understand today’s gospel in its context. Is Jesus saying that the only way to follow him is to abandon everything?

I have found a small commentary by Paul Achtemeier[2] helpful. The wider context  of the gospel makes it clear that it is our attitude to our relative wealth, rather than wealth itself that is a problem.

Over the course of the last few weeks this has been a constant theme. We have been reminded not to compete but to be as a child, we have been exhorted not to hurt one of these little ones and told that unless we welcome the Kingdom as a child we will not enter it. Throughout this section of the gospel, Jesus has been trying to help his disciples to understand that the Kingdom is a gift, a gift to those who do not and cannot deserve it. Dependence on God and on God’s goodness is the primary criterion for entering the Kingdom of God.

It is within this context that we have to understand today’s gospel which, as I have said, consists of three distinct parts. First of all, the rich man comes to Jesus with a problem. He already keeps the commandments but he knows that something is missing – he knows that simply following the rules is not enough. Jesus’ response is radical and disturbing. He instructs the man to sell everything and to follow him. The man is a good person but he his wealth is more important to him than his relationship with God. He will have to give away his self-reliance if he is to achieve the relationship with God that he seeks. For the time being at least, this is more than the rich man is prepared to do.

Jesus’ conversation with the rich man does not establish a criterion for all people for all time – that would be to introduce a new rule, a goal to be reached. It would have the opposite effect and make us dependent on ourselves not God. Jesus’ conversation with the rich man establshes a general principle – nothing (wealth, achievement) should come between ourselves and God. Our confidence and hope should be in God alone.

Jesus continues this reflection – inheritance of the kingdom is not something that relies on any kind of achievement including wealth. Just as we cannot earn our way into heaven so we cannot buy our way into heaven. Inheritance of the kingdom, entry into eternal life is God’s gift to us and unless we can accept it as a gift, we like the rich man exclude ourselves from its benefits. The disciple’s question, “Then who can be saved?”, demonstrates just how difficult it is for human beings to give up their striving and rely on God. We find it so hard to accept that attaining the kingdom does not depend on our own efforts but on the free gift of God. Like the rich man we want to know what we can do, what rules we should obey in order to be saved. Like the disciples, we want to achieve it on our own merits, we like measurable goals, benchmarks that can be reached. Trusting in God’s love for us, does not provide enough certainty. We like to think that there is a certain standard against which we can measure ourselves. Giving up our need for certainty, trusting in God is both the hardest and easiest aspect of our faith.

Yet as Jesus goes on to say, if we can let go of our need for certainty and security the reward will be a hundred times more than anything we can imagine in this life or in the life to come.

What do you rely on more than God and how hard would it be to give it up?


[1] Lepetit, Charles. Poor in Spirit: Modern Parables of the Reign of God. Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1989, 61.

[2] Achtemeier, Paul. Invitation to Mark: A Commentary on the Gospel of Mark with Complete Text from the Jerusalem Bible. New York: Image Books, 1978.

Becoming as a child

October 6, 2012

Pentecost 19

Mark 10.13-16  St Francis’ Day

Marian Free

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

What is it about children? Mark has used a child as an illustration three times now. A child is used to confront the disciples’ ideas of grandeur. The disciples are urged not to do anything that would hurt the faith of “these little ones” and today’s gospel suggests that unless the disciples welcome the kingdom of God as a little child, they will not enter it. It seems that Jesus is using the example of a child to confront the arrogance of the disciples, to emphasise their responsibility towards the vulnerable and to teach them how to accept God’s gifts to them.

From a twentieth century standpoint the obvious conclusion from today’s gospel is that Jesus is encouraging us to re-capture the wide-eyed innocence of our childhoods, to be open to the mystery and wonder of the kingdom rather than approaching it with jaded and cautious minds. There may be some element of this in what Jesus is saying, but given the unwarranted self-assurance of the disciples, their competition with each other and their desire to exclude others from their number, it is more likely that Jesus is referring to the lack of social status and the dependence of children.

According to the rabbinic tradition children were a waste of time – like drinking too much wine or associating with the ignorant. One saying reads: “Morning sleep and midday wine and children’s talk and sitting in the meeting houses of the people of the land put a person out of the world (M Abot 3:11). Children were not only a waste of time, but they were owed nothing. A child had no claim on anyone and could have no expectation that they deserved anything from anyone – including their parents. If they were treated well it was due to the love and generosity of their parents, but no expectations or obligations were placed on parents.  Children were completely dependent on the adults in their lives and good treatment was a matter of luck rather than a right. As a consequence, anything good that a child experienced or was given was received as a gift which they had done nothing to warrant.

Even in today’s world in which children are generally valued and in which their rights are enshrined in law, a child is still dependent on the adults in their lives for the quality of their care, for affection, for food, clothing and shelter, for education and medical care. Most of us spend our lives trying to escape this sort of dependence on others and few would make dependence rather than independence a life’s goal.

Yet it is precisely this that Jesus is recommending to his self-absorbed disciples. He is reminding them that they should understand that entry into the kingdom is not a right or something that they should take for granted. Entry into the kingdom of God is not earned by proving that they are better than one another. It is not the role of the disciples of Jesus to determine who is in and who is out. Instead, they need to adopt the position of children to their parents and understand that they completely dependent on God’s love and mercy and that everything that they receive is a gift that is unrelated to anything that they do or do not do.

For many, including Jesus’ disciples, the gift of God’s undeserved grace is almost impossible to accept. It is easier to think that there must be some sort of entrance criteria for membership in the kingdom, that only those who behave in a certain way or achieve a certain standard can earn the right to enter into the Kingdom of God. It is difficult to accept that those who are least worthy, those who have no legal status or right are not only welcome in the kingdom, but show the rest of us how to graciously receive God’s free gift.

Such was the problem that faced Francis in the thirteenth century. Francis was born in Assisi in 1188, the eldest son of a wealthy textile merchant. He, like many wealthy young men of his day lived a dissolute sort of life spending his Father’s money on fine clothing and on carousing and drinking with his friends. In a time of inter-city wars and rivalry, Francis had dreams of grandeur of becoming a military hero – a knight who would win the heart of a fair lady.  An opportunity came for him to join the forces of Prince of Taranto and to fight for the Pope in the south of Italy. He told his brothers that he would return a knight. However, within a day he had returned home having heard a voice from God. Once home, having no clear sense of what God intended for him, he returned to his former lifestyle, though it held none of the attraction that it had had before.

Gradually, Francis changed his life. He became more and more concerned for the poor, more and more determined that he should share the poverty of Christ, and more and more determined to give up his extravagant lifestyle and embrace a life of prayer. At first Francis remained at home, living more simply and giving generously to those in need. He showed compassion to all and especially to those suffering from leprosy who were not only destitute, but who were also excluded from society because of their disease.  Eventually Francis gave up all his wealth, renounced his inheritance and adopted a simple life in the countryside around his hometown. He wore a robe in the shape of a cross and in warm weather and cold wore only sandals on his feet. Like a beggar he became completely dependent on the goodness of others. Like the disciples of Jesus he went from town to town proclaiming the gospel of Jesus.

In time he was joined by others, who like him had become aware of the hollowness of their lives.  Despite this Francis was haunted by a sense of his sinfulness. How could he possibly be worthy of the Kingdom? On one occasion when he was oppressed with grief and worry, he had a vision of Jesus weighed down by the cross struggling up the hill of Calvary and he remembered the words of the fourth Gospel: “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” He understood at once that it was not anything that he had done, but that it was what God had done that had secured his entry into the kingdom. At that point he knew that he didn’t have to compete with others, to achieve a certain standard or to be part of the in-group. He simply had to accept what God had done in Christ and to allow himself to be completely dependent on God’s mercy.

This simple, child-like trust in God determined the remainder of Francis’ life. He was able to let go of his need to be in control and to place his life in God’s hands. He finally understood his total dependence on God’s mercy, his need to receive the kingdom of God as a child.

In our individualistic, achievement driven world, the idea that child-like dependence is something to be valued is utterly incomprehensible. And yet, Jesus tells us that dependence is the very criterion that entrance into the Kingdom of God demands. God who owes us nothing has given us everything. The gift of the Kingdom is ours for the taking. All that we have to do is to swallow our pride, let go of our independence and gratefully reach out our hands to receive what is offered.

 

 

Cutting off our hands?

September 29, 2012

Pentecost 18

Mark 9:37-50

Marian Free

 In the name of God who urges us to be set free from those things which inflict hurt on others or which bind ourselves to this world. Amen.

If I were to watch the musical Godspel today, I’m sure that I would find it very dated. The great Jesus musicals – Jesus Christ Superstar and Godspel came out of the sixties and Godspel in particular captured the spirit of the age – flower power, peace and love. I first watched Godspel as a film and was especially moved by the way in which the relationships between Jesus and the disciples were played out. Because I had enjoyed it so much I leapt at the chance to take our children when the Arts Theatre produced Godspel. A group of families from our church booked tickets and off we went. All was well until the actors burst into a song about cutting off hands and feet and tearing out eyes. Not only was it incongruous to hear such gruesome things being sung in what was a light hearted sort if way, but I was conscious that collectively we, the parents, were exposing our children to something that really didn’t seem to fit with the gospel of God’s love that we were trying to share with them!

Fortunately, none of them seem to have been scarred by the experience, but it is a memory that has stayed with me and has served as a reminder that our scriptures are not always immediately transparent and open to understanding but can sometimes cause confusion or offense.

The reading from Mark’s gospel today contains at least one incident, a response to that incident and several sets of Jesus’ saying. Last week we saw that Jesus caught the disciples discussing who was the greatest. This week’s reading begins with a continuation of that theme. John informs Jesus that someone is casting out demons in Jesus’ name apparently expecting Jesus to be affronted. Given that the disciples have only recently failed to perform an exorcism, John’s comment reveals a certain smugness about being part of Jesus’ inner circle and a determination to protect the exclusiveness of that relationship.

John’s arrogance is quickly confronted by Jesus who makes the powerful and inclusive statement that: “anyone who is not against us is for us.” Discipleship is not exclusive or hierarchical but is available to anyone who chooses not to opt out. This inclusiveness is illustrated by the comment that anyone who gives a cup of water to the disciples because they are disciples will be rewarded. Being included does not require grand gestures or even heroic self-sacrifice. Even such an apparently small act of giving water demonstrates an allegiance toJesus which will not go unnoticed. So far so good, but suddenly we are confronted by a number of apparently unrelated sayings about millstones, self-mutilation, Gehenna and salt.

We make a mistake if we try to read such groupings as following what we consider to be a logical progression. The various gospel authors placed their material together in ways that made sense to their hearers. In this instance, certain sayings or events or simply catchwords, have led the author to think of others which seem to fit the context. For example, Jesus’ use of a child to confront the arrogance of the disciples follows naturally into another account of the disciples’ arrogance which in turn is illustrated by the damage that such arrogance could do to a child in faith “a little one”. In turn the illustration of the millstone – an extreme form of punishment in that time because the weight of the stone ensures that the guilty person drowns – leads into another set of sayings which are linked to the first by the word “σκανδαλιζω” – to scandalise or to cause to stumble. Not only are the disciples not to claim an exclusive relationship with Jesus, neither are they to do anything that would cause harm to the faith of someone else. In fact their own behaviour should be flawless. They should not behave in ways that would jeopardise their salvation. In fact, to be safe, to be certain of eternal life, they should remove off the offending body part.

It was these words that caused my distress during Godspel. However, I now know that Jesus doesn’t intend us to take these violent instructions literally. Here as elsewhere he uses hyperbole to get our attention and to make a point. Language that is particularly gruesome in the twentieth century would not have been so confronting to Jesus’ audience. They lived in harsher, more violent times. For Jesus to suggest that the community formed in his name should be legless and armless, or that they should all practice self-mutilation would have been understood as ludicrous.

The use of exaggeration by Jesus is not limited to this set of sayings. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus has said that anyone who calls their brother “a fool” is guilty of murder and that anyone who looks at a woman with lust in his heart is an adulterer. It is not that Jesus wants to have us drowning in a sea of guilt, feeling that we will never achieve the impossible standard that he sets or that we will never be worthy of the kingdom. He uses these dramatic statements to help us to recognize and to confront the sort of arrogance that allows us to believe that we are superior to any one else. The arresting sayings are to make us aware of our own short comings and to help us to see that our arrogance is generally ill-founded, to understand that most, if not all of us, have some sort of flaws and that, as a result none of us can lord it over others or congratulate ourselves on how good we are in comparison to them. By our very arrogance or simply through our complacency, Jesus suggests, our words or actions may bring the gospel into disrepute or cause others to misunderstand or to reject the gospel. We might just as we’ll drown ourselves.

While it is a relief to know that we can keep all our appendages, we are not, as a result, let off the hook. Jesus is indeed setting the bar high and encouraging us to rise to the challenge. Arrogance, lust, greed, self-centredness, jealousy, hatred and so on have no place in the life hereafter. That being the case, we would do well to rid ourselves of all such negative qualities now, because they will be of no use and will not be welcome in the Kingdom of God.