Archive for the ‘Mark’s gospel’ Category

‘There’s a crack where the light gets in’ – the beheading of John the Baptist

July 13, 2024

Pentecost 8 – 2024

Mark 6:14-29

Marian Free

In the name of God whose light shines in the darkness and whose strength holds us in the midst of our pain. Amen.

I confess that I am a great fan of Leonard Cohen and while I can’t claim to fully understand the lyrics of his songs, I think I get the gist of what he is saying. By and large he presents a bleak view of the world and the people in it. For example, in what I believe was the last song he wrote before he died, ‘You want it Darker’, Cohen wrote: 

‘If you are the dealer, I’m out of the game
If you are the healer, it means I’m broken and lame
If thine is the glory, then mine must be the shame
You want it darker
We kill the flame.’

Later he repeats a line: ‘A million candles burning
For the help that never came’, replacing the word help with love the second time around. ‘A million candles burning for the love that never came.’ (https://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=you+want+it+darker+lyrics&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8)

Cohen’s lyrics could be a song for our time. We live in a world which appears to be fracturing along many different fault lines. The Russia/Ukraine war has divided nations along much the same lines as the Cold War. Across the globe countries which are proudly refusing to become directly involved in the war are not so reluctant to supply one side or the other with arms and military equipment thereby deepening the rifts between them. The Israel/Gaza conflict is threatening to split once harmonious communities in all corners of the world. Natural disasters are wreaking havoc on a scale not witnessed before and the gap between rich and poor are increasing at an alarming rate.  

These and other events are enough to drive the most hopeful among us to despair – to sing with Cohen that there are a million candles burning for the help that never came. We live in a time when we cannot ignore the very real presence of evil, the impact that human greed and selfishness are having on the planet and the capacity of human beings to inflict horrendous suffering on others.

Cohen is not afraid to name the darkness that hovers over us.

In the same way, the Bible refuses to paper over the ugliness of human existence, to sugar coat the terrors that human beings inflict on each other or to pretend that God can once and for all miraculously sweep away all that is wrong with the world. From the beginning to the end of our scriptures we are confronted with the capacity for evil that resides in each one of us. Cain kills Abel, the Israelites destroy the inhabitants of Canaan, Athaliah, the mother of Ahaziah murders anyone who stands between herself and the crown and on it goes. The story of the death of John the Baptist is just one story in a litany of accounts of the frailty and insecurity of human beings. 

There is no way to gloss over or to find good news in the story of the beheading of John the Baptist. Here, Mark, who is known more for his brevity than his attention to detail, does not spare us. In his account the worst of humanity is exposed – Herod’s pride and insecurity, and his need to keep face (honour and power) at whatever cost.  Herodias’ spite at the Baptist’s moral stance and the supposedly innocent pawn – the daughter – who refuses to trust her own judgement but defers to her mother and who not only willingly enters into the unfolding drama but who adds her own particularly gruesome detail in asking that the head of John the Baptist be brought to her on a platter.

In placing the story here, Mark does two things (apart from reporting on the event itself). Firstly, he is making it clear that it is not only demons and evil spirits who cannot bear their wickedness to be exposed by Jesus’ goodness. Evil is not external to but integral to the human condition. Herodias wants John gone because he makes her feel uncomfortable (just as Jesus unsettled the demons). John has pointed out what Herodias already knows – that her divorce and remarriage are against the law – something she does not want to be reminded of.  

Secondly the account of John’s beheading acts as a sort of corrective to any misunderstanding about Jesus – his role and his powers. For the readers of the gospel who have been caught up by the miraculous events of the story – Jesus’ ability to cast out demons, heal the sick and even to calm a storm, Mark, through this story makes it clear that there is no magic wand or miracle cure for the ills of the world. The world and all its wickedness will not suddenly be transformed by the presence of Jesus. There will always be Herod’s – the immoral, the volatile, the power hungry, and the selfish. The evil that resides in the human heart will have to be confronted one person at a time.

That said, the story ends on a hopeful note. Mark tells us that John’s disciples came and took his body and laid it in a tomb. John’s life and ministry have not come to an abrupt halt. Herodias has not won. In the midst of darkness and despair God’s goodness and love has broken-in.

To return to Leonard Cohen. Another of his songs include the line: “There’s a crack in everything that’s where the light gets in.” Rabbi David Sachs tells us that this image comes a story in Jewish mysticism, known as: “The breaking of vessels”. According to the story, when God created the world and filled it with light the world was simply not strong enough to hold that light, so the vessels containing the light broke and everywhere there are broken vessels and within those vessels is divine light.” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2s3kQSZ_Qxk)

The death of John the Baptist is a stark reminder of humanity’s ability to defy God, and to desecrate goodness, but just as John’s disciples faithfully took and buried his body, so there are in every generation those who, despite the consequences will be the presence of goodness and holiness in the world. Despair, horror and evil will never hold sway because wherever there is an act of courage, of kindness or selflessness, we are reminded that there is a crack in everything and that’s where the light gets in.

Boxed in – Jesus in Nazareth

July 6, 2024

Pentecost 7 – 2024

Mark 6:1-13

Marian Free

In the name of God who always surprises us and who always breaks through our narrow limitations. Amen.

There was a time, not so long ago, when parents of children with Down’s Syndrome were advised to put them in an institution and forget about them. Indeed, such was the case as recently as 1997 when Queenslander Rosanne Stuart gave birth to her daughter Madeline. According to an article in Vogue magazine, “before she could even see her, the baby was whisked away to another room. The doctor told her to leave the baby at the hospital and start over; pointing out the child would never amount to anything and would only mature to the mental age of a seven year old”.[1] Thankfully Rosanne ignored the doctor’s advice, and like many parents of her generation, refused to be bound by societal (and sometimes medical) expectations. She brought up her daughter, Madeline, to believe that she was beautiful and could do anything. Madeline is now an international model (perhaps the first person with Down Syndrome to take to the catwalk). She has participated in New York fashion week and taken to the runway in such places as Paris, London, Runway Dubai and Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week China.

Madeline is just one example of the ways in which the world in general is refusing to be bound by stereotypes, and in which parents are refusing to limit children who do not fit the norm. The examples are too numerous to mention, but one other Australian who has refused to be boxed and limited by labels is Michael Theo.  Michael is the neurodivergent star of the ABC series Austin. He has participated in the TV programme Love on the Spectrum, is an animal rights advocate, podcaster and much more.   

For too long we have classified people according to their looks, their athletic ability, their shape and size, and by whether their body or their mind fits the so-called norm. Society as a whole has refused to recognise that those who do not fit the stereotype might in fact have talents just waiting to be identified and nurtured. Thankfully, in recent decades, we have begun to value people for who they are, rather than try to force them to fit a particular mould. Today we have the Para-Olympics to showcase the talents of those born without limbs, those permanently altered by injury and anyone else who would be disadvantaged by competing against athletes whose bodies fit the norm. We are less and less likely to decide who can represent us – in film, in sport, and in any other endeavour – according to how much like ourselves they are.

Today’s gospel has to do with expectations, about boxing people in so that they fit our image of them. Having wandered around Galilee teaching and healing, Jesus has returned to his home town. On the Sabbath, he teaches in their synagogue. Those who hear him are initially astounded, but immediately they begin to question themselves: “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him?” they ask with a certain amount of scepticism.  This is Jesus, they know who he is – one of them.  It seems that they cannot allow Jesus to be anything other than the person whom they believe him to be. They have known Jesus for most, if not all, of his life, and it appears that they simply cannot let go of the image of the Jesus whom they knew before this transformation. He is the child of questionable birth – the child of Mary (not Joseph). He is the young boy who played with their children, the brother of young men whom they know – James and Joses and Judas and Simon. His sisters still live among them – ordinary women living ordinary lives. He is a carpenter, not a prophet or miracle worker.

The people of Nazareth have boxed Jesus in. They can’t imagine that he can really be anyone other than the Jesus they have always known. Their limited imaginations cannot allow for him to have changed so radically – to have become one who is well-versed in scripture and who has power to heal. None of this was evident when he lived among them, or, if it was, they were blind to his potential. Their lack of belief makes it impossible for Jesus to do much for them. They have put up imperviable barriers between themselves and him, that even divinity cannot cross.

The response of the Nazoreans to Jesus is an example of our own response to God. How often do we limit God, Jesus, or the Spirit as a consequence of our expectations being either too grand, or too narrow? How often is God the Trinity prevented from acting in our lives because we are disappointed that the Triune God does not live up to our expectations or because our expectations are simply too low? We, like Jesus’ neighbours have formed an image of God – who God is and what God can do. We expect extraordinary miracles and are disappointed when God acts differently. Alternatively, we expect very little and so give God little opportunity to do anything for us. We hope for grand signs and fail to see the presence of God all around us. We try to define God when God is simply unable to be defined. We box God in, try to make God conform to our idea of God and in so doing miss God’s mystery and grandeur. 

The very nature of God should continually surprise, astound and astonish us. Our relationship with God should be not one of familiarity but one of expectation and uncertainty. God may be present in the ordinary as well as the extraordinary. God may reveal Godself in mighty acts or quiet whispers. God may heal broken bodies, but more often will mend broken souls. God will never, ever be what we perceive God to be, for then God would not be God.

Our task is to suspend our need to understand, to categorise, and to define, and to retain a joyful openness to God’s presence such that when God catches us by surprise, instead of saying: “That can’t be God,”  we will be able to say wholeheartedly:  “Ah, yes, there God is.”


[1] https://www.vogue.com.au/fashion/news/meet-australian-madeline-stuart-the-worlds-first-professional-model-with-down-syndrome/news-story/c90e9224d9586e7840362a9ea0a4bf8a

Who infects who? Woman with a haemorrhage.

July 2, 2024

Pentecost 6 – 2024

Mark 5:21-43

Marian Free

In the name of God who sees our deepest needs and sets us free. Amen.

Thanks to Reginald and Catherine Hamlin, the prevalence of obstetric fistula in Ethiopia became known and, more importantly, addressed. Their story is well known. The medical couple responded to an advertisement for a medico to establish a midwifery school in the hospital in Addis Adiba. Once there, it was not long before they observed the huge number of untreated injuries caused by childbirth. Instead of returning to New Zealand when their contract was completed, the couple founded the Addis Adiba Fistula Hospital. It is the only hospital of its kind and has treated over 60,000 women.

The tearing of the fistula during childbirth can have devastating consequences. It is especially prevalent in places where there is inadequate access to pre-and peri-natal care and where there are no midwives to assist with birth. In countries where child marriage is allowed and in which female circumcision is practiced the situation is even more dire. Girls whose bodies are not ready for childbirth become pregnant and genital mutilation can make the birthing process even more difficult. In Ethiopia something like 100,000 women and girls live with a fistula and around 9,000 new cases occur every year (this in 2022).

An obstetric fistula is a hole or tear that is created during a long or obstructed labour.  The tear creates a hole between the bladder and/or rectum which leads to leakage of urine or faeces over which the woman has no control. This in turn results not only in physical discomfort, psychological distress and infertility but also in rejection by the spouses and families of these women and social isolation. Rejected by their communities, young women who suffer from this condition become homeless and impoverished.

The medical situation of the woman with a haemorrhage in today’s gospel is different but the resulting situation is similar – rejection, isolation and penury. In the ancient world, blood, especially menstrual blood, rendered a woman unclean, a source of contamination and therefore as someone to be avoided. The woman with a haemorrhage would not only have been unclean, but also infertile. She would have been socially isolated and her value as a woman (able to bear children) would have been seriously compromised. The woman would have been an object of fear, isolated, destitute and desperate.

No wonder she takes her chance with Jesus. No wonder that she is driven to break the law, to cause offence and to risk the wrath of the crowds.  Jesus is her last and only hope of restoration – to health and to the community.

We know nothing of the woman, but we can imagine that she had been a person of some means, because she has, over the course of twelve years, been able to seek the help of doctors. Now she has spent all that she has on doctors – to no avail. 

Jesus’ reputation has reached the woman, and while the woman dare not appeal to him openly for fear of the crowd’s reaction, she presumably knows that that Jesus has not demonstrated an unwillingness to engage with those deemed unclean. After all, he has healed lepers who, like her are considered impure and forced to separate themselves from family and community. 

So when she learns that Jesus is near the woman somehow slips into the crowd, makes her way to Jesus and touches, not him, but his cloak.  Two things happen simultaneously – the woman knows that she is healed, and Jesus feels power flow from him to another. 

In Jesus, the process of contamination is reversed. His purity is not polluted by her impurity, her uncleanness does not taint him but rather her impurity is sanitised by his purity. His ‘power’, his pureness, moves from him to her, cleansing and restoring her. In healing the woman, Jesus not only sets her free from her suffering, but restores her to her family: “Daughter” he says.

It is easy to fool ourselves into believing that notions of purity and impurity belong to another time and age, but I challenge you  to think of the ways  in which we limit and exclude those who do not fit the norms of our own time, the ways in which we judge those with health issues that we do not understand, the barriers we place between ourselves and those who are different, the ways in which we exclude people from participation in things we take for granted. 

The examples are manifold so I shall only list a few – women with endometriosis who spend years and fortunes convincing doctors that they are unwell and are made to feel that the problem lies with them, the rough sleepers who endure our discomfort rather than our compassion and who feel our discomfort, fear and revulsion, our physical environments that make it impossible for the differently abled to fully participate in the lives we take for granted and which tell them of our indifference. Consciously or unconsciously, we isolate and protect ourselves from the suffering of others. 

Consciously or unconsciously, we send the message that we are repulsed or affronted by those whose situations we do not fully understand.

Time and again, Jesus demonstrates that compassion for and engagement with the despised and rejected takes nothing from himself and gives everything to them – restoring them physically, psychologically and socially. If we are willing to learn from his example, we will create a society in which everyone is valued, included and made whole, a world infected and transformed by kingdom of God.

A storm tossed boat – relinquishing control

June 22, 2024

Pentecost 5 -2024

Mark 4:35-41 (thoughts while on leave)

Marian Free

In the name of God who knows our deepest fears, who holds us in the palm of God’s hands and who knows the number of hairs on on head. Amen.

One of my favourite hymns is ‘Abide with me.’ I have always loved it but knowing the role the hymn played in the life (or rather death) of Edith Cavell has given it new power and meaning.

 Abide with me, fast falls the eventide
The darkness deepens Lord, with me abide
When other helpers fail and comforts flee
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day
Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away
Change and decay in all around I see
O Thou who changest not, abide with me

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness
Where is death’s sting?
Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies
Heaven’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee
In life, in death, o Lord, abide with me
Abide with me, abide with me. (Henry Francis Lyte and Will Henry Monk)

Edith Cavell was a nurse, and an extremely competent and brave woman. During the First World War, Cavell was based in Brussels. Her hospital was taken over by the Red Cross. Working for the Red Cross, Cavell treated all injured soldiers without distinction – friend and foe – and she assisted some 200 hundred Allied soldiers escape German occupied Belgium. For this, she was captured, accused of aiding a hostile power and sentenced to be executed for treason. The daughter of a priest, Cavell had a strong faith. The night before she was to face the firing squad, she was visited by an Anglican priest who was based in Brussels. After she received the Eucharist, she and the Rev’d Gahan sang together ‘Abide with me.’

I don’t know the history of this hymn, but the lyrics express a complete and utter faith in God, especially at the time of death. That Cavell could sing this when the firing squad awaited her fills me with awe as does the fact that she was able to ask the priest to tell her loved ones later on “that my soul, as I believe, is safe, and that I am glad to die for my country”.

To face such a gruesome death with such calm and confidence is surely something all Christians are capable of, but how many of us along the way allow ourselves to be bothered and weighed down by trivial and unimportant anxieties. When it comes down to it, how many of us trust God with every aspect of our existence.

This, I think is what today’s gospel is getting at – the ability (or not) to place our lives, with all their minor irritations and major setbacks, completely in the hands of God.

Mark’s account of the stormy sea crossing has a number of interesting features. In the first instance, according to Mark (and only Mark), the disciples venture on to the sea in the evening – a time when, as anyone knew, the waters could be rough and difficult to manoeuvre. We are not told why they took the risk, but it is clear that Mark places the responsibility for the dangerous journey on them. Secondly, we are told that they took Jesus ‘just as he was’ which supports the notion that not a lot of thought or preparation was put into the journey. Again, the blame for the situation seems to be being laid at the feet of the disciples.

 Despite the lack of preparation and the failure of the disciples to take the conditions into account, Jesus is completely relaxed. Indeed, he is so relaxed that he falls asleep on a cushion.

 As might be expected, a storm blew up in the evening. The boat was tossed about and swamped. Unable to control the boat, and in fear of their lives, the disciples wake Jesus, accusing him of not caring about them: ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ they shout.

 Jesus wakes, rebukes the wind and chides the disciples. It is important to note that Jesus doesn’t berate the disciples for not believing in his ability to control the elements. He doesn’t ask them: ‘didn’t you believe that I could do this?’  His question to the disciples is: ‘why are you afraid?‘ why are you afraid?

 It is fear not faith in Jesus’ power that is at issue here.

 Jesus, who probably knows the lake as well as any other Galilean, got into the boat and promptly fell asleep. He will have known that the wind was likely to come up. He will have known too, that if he so chose, he could command the wind to stop but he chooses to sleep instead of take control. Unlike the disciples, Jesus trusts in God so completely that he has no fear. Having placed himself in God’s hands Jesus trusts that whatever the outcome of the storm, he is with God and God with him. Sleep is possible because he has chosen not to worry – living or dying he knows that his life is God’s.

 When we read this story, we are often so focussed on the storm and Jesus’ power over the natural elements that we lose sight of what may be the central point of the story – the sleeping Jesus’ utter trust in God, his lack of fear in the face of possible death and his knowledge that God is with him in every circumstance of his life – be it good or evil.

 Like the disciples- who are foolish and uncomprehending in Mark’s gospel we don’t always get it. The disciple’s response says it all. ‘Who then is this that the wind and the sea obey him?’ It has nothing to do with faith and everything to with the miracle – which, when you think about it, completely negates the need for the sort faith that Jesus is modelling and which he will continue to model until the end. Faith that is dependent on miracles, faith that relies on God to get us out of tight corners, faith that believes God will always intervene to protect us from harm, is not the faith that Jesus lives and proclaims.

 The faith that allows Jesus to sleep through the storm, is a faith that trusts the God of the universe to get us through (not avoid) life’s difficulties. The faith that Jesus lives is a faith that gives God control over our destiny (rather than trying to control every aspect of our lives by ourselves.) The faith that allowed Jesus to face the cross is a faith that understands that in life, in death, God abides with us.

 This is a story not about Jesus’ taking control, but about Jesus’ willingness to relinquish control.

 When we are tossed and turned about, do we seek to control our circumstances and rage that God doesn’t care? Or, can we like Jesus, remain asleep in a storm tossed boat?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Whose kingdom is it anyway? Mustard seeds and seeds growing secretly.

June 15, 2024

Pentecost 4 -2024

Mark 4:26-34 (some thoughts)

Marian Free

 

In the name of God whose creative energy brings all things into being. Amen.

‘Patience is a virtue’ the saying goes. Yet as parents and educators many of us are impatient. We have a tendency (fuelled by parenting books) to expect children to reach certain ‘milestones’ at particular times and worry (about them and/or our parenting) if they do not. Such a scenario makes no allowances for different temperaments or different interests, let alone differing times of maturity. Yet I can think of a number of children who at school were considered to be under-achievers and who went on to pursue higher degrees and/or challenging careers. When the time was right or when their interest was peaked, these children found the drive to grow and to achieve, a drive which no amount of coercion or threat could have achieved. Nothing good is gained by pushing a child who is not ready developmentally or emotionally. Excessive worrying will only lead to self doubt and low self esteem n the part of the child. There are times when we have to sit back and let things take their course.

It is not just children who need the right time and conditions to flourish. Nature is filled with examples of fauna and flora that will not reproduce unless the environment is right (for themselves and their offspring). An example is the desert spadefoot toad that is native to the Australian desert. These creatures have adapted to an arid environment by burrowing underground to escape the heat which would dry them out and kill them. When the drought breaks, they emerge to engage in a frenzied period of breeding. In order to take advantage to the short-lived pools of water, the tadpoles of this species develop remarkably quickly. If the conditions are not right the toads will patiently wait until they are.

Some plants and animals will wait for the rain before they reproduce or germinate, others, like the banksia, will only release their seeds in the fierce heat of a bushfire. Nothing we can do will make them germinate or reproduce if the situation is not conducive to flourishing.

Many of us find it hard to be patient, we want to see results – results that affirm we are doing/have done the right thing – prepared our children for school, given the radish seeds just the right amount of water, fed our pets the food that will keep them healthy, provided advice that eases someone’s burden.

The problem is that the world does not work that way. Our actions, however well meaning, will not speed up a process that needs a time.

I wonder if impatience is at the heart of today’s parables. I wonder if the disciples (or the hearers of Mark’ gospel) are chaffing at the bit to see the results of Jesus’ mission or their teaching. I wonder if they are impatient to see change in the world as evidence that the way that they are going about things is the right way to go.

Why else would Jesus urge patience? Why else would he tell parables about a kingdom that has small beginnings and grows in secret?

Behind both these parables is a reminder that the kingdom of God is in God’s hands and the kingdom will come in God’s time (not ours). We cannot force the kingdom, nor can we bring about GOD’S kingdom (not our kingdom), the kingdom of HEAVEN (not the kingdom here on earth) by our own efforts. Jesus’ language says it all – the kingdom of heaven doesn’t need our help. We cannot force its growth or bring it into existence by our own efforts. We have to place our trust in God, to remember that God is always working and that God who made the universe from nothing can certainly bring about the kingdom from the smallest beginning, even if we cannot see the growth.

In a world of declining congregations, we tend to take too much on ourselves, as if the existence of God, or the coming of the kingdom were down to us.

The message of the parables is that we must exercise patience and await with eager expectation to see what God has in store for us next and leave the kingdom in God’s capable hands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sinning against the Holy Spirit

June 8, 2024

Pentecost 3 – 2024

Mark 3:20-35 (thoughts from Sorrento)

Marian Free

In the name of God from whom all goodness comes. Amen.

As is often the case, today’s gospel is complex. Two related stories are separated by a third, apparently unrelated story. This technique of sandwiching (intercalation to be technical) is typical of Mark, though it is used by the other gospel writers. By placing the stories in such a way the author allows them to play on each other in such a way that the meaning of both is elucidated. Perhaps the best example is the story of the the woman with a haemorrhage. In that account, Jesus is on his way to a dying girl when he allows himself to be interrupted by a woman who has been bleeding for 12 years. In that instance the parallels are obvious – the girl is twelve, on the verge of womanhood and fertility, the woman has been bleeding for 12 years and has been made infertile as a result.

In the gospel reading that we have before us today, Mark seems to be drawing our attention to the identity of Jesus, and in so doing is redrawing the definition of family and of the religious establishment. Jesus’ natural family are concerned that he is ‘out of his mind’. As such he is an embarrassment to them, and they are anxious to get him away from the crowds. After the interruption by the scribes, Jesus responds to his family’s anxieties – not by reassuring them, but by sidelining them! He expands the definition of family to include every who does the will of God. In so doing Jesus has completely re-defined the base structure of his society. It is his purpose to disrupt, not to maintain the equilibrium.

The scribes, perhaps emboldened by the concerned of Jesus’ family, take advantage to the moment to claim that Jesus is possessed. Their misguided logic tells them that anyone who is destabilizing the society of the day, must be in the grip of evil. Someone who breaks the Sabbath and challenges the institution cannot in their mind, be on the side of good/God. Jesus does not fit their model of a good observant Jew and so, by deduction he must be something other. (He is redefining the religious institution of their time and this makes them deeply uncomfortable.)

The attack by the scribes draws from Jesus his harshest, and for some most confusing critique: “Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter; but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”.

There is, according to Jesus, only one sin that cannot be forgiven- that of blaspheming the Holy Spirit – of seeing evil where there is good, of accusing God’s representative of representing the devil, of being so threatened by change that we resist it, of being so anxious that things stay the same that we vilify the changemakers, or of being so sure that right is on our side that we perpetuate evil in order to maintain the status quo.

In today’s gospel it is the scribes who confuse good/godliness for evil, but this is a pattern that has been repeated throughout history, whenever someone has the courage to challenge injustice or to confront an oppressive government. But it is not just rulers or leaders who react when their status or their actions are questioned. The sin against the Holy Spirit is just as evident when good, churchgoing people fail to recognise the prophets among them, or when they feel uncomfortable when someone speaks truth to power.

The recent referendum in Australia revealed the deepest fears of some who from their place of fear made outrageous claims about the consequences of voting for a Voice to Parliament. More than one person claimed it was a communist plot and others were certain that if we voted ‘yes’ our backyards would be taken away the very next day. What to many was a simple, innocuous request from a generous, patient people, became a source of fear. Supporters of a ‘yes’ vote were painted as evil, devious and self seeking.

It is too easy to let our fear of change dominate our reaction to new ways, new teachings, or new expressions of God’s love, but over and over again the gospels challenge us to have open hearts and minds and to humbly accept that what we know of God is but a fraction of the whole and that there may be much more to be revealed than we can possibly imagine.

 

Which Jesus? Which God? Controversy stories

June 1, 2024

Pentecost 2 – 2024

Mark 2:23-3:6 (A short comment while on leave)

Marian Free

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

Another year and another look at the Gospel of Mark.

As I began a new reading of Mark’s gospel I noticed something that I had not seen before. That is that in the first few chapters one of the things that the writer of Mark appears to be doing is establishing the nature of Jesus.

Jesus’ public ministry begins with his casting out of an unclean spirit who recognizes Jesus as the ‘Holy One of God’ (1:27). A number of healings and exorcisms follow. At this early stage of the gospel, even though Mark is remarkably silent on Jesus’ actual teaching, it is his teaching that stands out: ‘A new teaching, with authority!’

 According to Mark, as a result of Jesus’ work he becomes so well known that he has to seek refuge in the country. When he returns the trouble begins. In Mark’s hurry to get to the cross, he follows his introduction to Jesus five controversy stories – accounts of Jesus’ conflict (differences of opinion) with the lay leaders of the church – the scribes, the Pharisees and the Herodians. Jesus’ controversial behaviour and his justification of the same, so infuriate the leaders that together they plot to put him to death.

 As Mark tells it, within a short period Jesus causes considerable offence to the teachers of the law. He claims to be able to forgive sins – which they believe is God’s prerogative. He eats with tax collectors and sinners and in so doing breaks the purity laws and withholds judgement of those who by choice or accident fail to keep the law. He justifies the actions of his disciples who do not fast in the traditional way and, in the reading that we have this morning, he reinterprets the meaning of the Sabbath (implying that he – not the teachers of the law) – knows the mind of God.

 Jesus defends the actions of his disciples who ‘work’ on the Sabbath and Jesus reminds the teachers that the law – including the law to rest on the Sabbath – is God’s gift to humanity not a burden imposed on them. By healing the man with the withered hand, Jesus makes it clear that the Sabbath rest is no reason to extend a person’s suffering for even one day longer than necessary.

What is different between the teaching and actions of Jesus and those of the scribes and Pharisees is that Jesus presents an expansive, loving and forgiving image of God.

A God who doesn’t bind us up or exclude us because we fail to live according to the narrow limits of the Pharisaic interpretation of the law, a God who doesn’t condemn the sinner to a lifetime of self loathing and regret, a God who gave the law not to confine and weigh down, but to liberate to to give ease, and a God whose capacity to heal and restore is not limited to six days out of seven but is freely available whenever and wherever someone is in need.

In presenting God in this way, or claiming to speak as if he knows God’s mind, Jesus threatens the Pharisees’ sense of order and control. A narrow interpretation of the law and a view of God that upheld that interpretation had helped to give them a sense of security. If black was black and white was white, they knew where they stood, they could teach others a set of simple precepts that would ensure that they remained on the right side of God and they could pass judgement on those who failed to live according to their code. Jesus’ teaching and actions completely undermined what they held to be true. Jesus has shaken the bed rock of their certainty and taken away the criteria against which they have been able to judge themselves and others. No wonder they are terrified. No wonder they wanted to rid themselves of the person who was able to unsettle their sense of security. They were frightened and anxious. They wanted the source of all their uncertainty to disappear (even if that disappearance is their own doing).

 To some extent the tensions between Jesus and the Pharisees continues to beset the church today. There are those among us who seek certainty and who find in Jesus’ teaching clear guidelines for determining how to win salvation and how to decide who is and who is not acceptable to God. There are others, among whom I count myself, who see in Jesus one who makes no demands but that of faith, who offers no certainty except that of the in love of God and who insists that compassion and inclusion trump judgement and exclusion every time.

 When you read Jesus’ controversies with the teachers of the law, who and what do you see?

 

 

Let God be God (first prediction of suffering)

February 27, 2024

Lent 2 – 2024

Mark 8:31-38

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who unsettles and confuses us.  Amen.

 

Poor Peter! Only moments before today’s scenario, Peter has identified Jesus as the Christ and now Jesus is accusing him of being Satan! Harsh words indeed.

 The problem is that Peter has a preconceived idea of what the Christ should be and whatever that idea is, it doesn’t involve God’s chosen suffering and dying at the hands of the religious leaders. It is easy to judge Peter – how could he not know what was to happen to Jesus? We forget that there is much that is hidden from our 21st century eyes and we don’t realise that our vision is clouded because we know the end of the story. We know that Jesus rose from the dead and we know that the resurrection and the giving of the Holy Spirit led to the spreading of the gospel.

It is obvious to us that Jesus should suffer and die, because that is what did happen. But imagine what it was like for the first disciples. They lived under oppressive Roman rule, their lives were governed by taxes on everything from the roads, to fishing, to their catch of fish. The might of Rome was impossible to resist. Indeed, those who resisted were put to death by crucifixion. Thousands of Galileans has been crucified for insurrection – their crosses lining the roads so that everyone might learn what it meant to take on the Empire. That is the political climate in which the disciples lived, but there was also the culture of faith in which they were raised. They may not have been regular attendees at the synagogue, but they would certainly have absorbed the teachings, customs and expectations of Judaism. Based on the OT and on the traditions that had built up over time, they would have shared with their fellow-believers a hope that God would send a Saviour figure.

 Unfortunately, we cannot be 100% sure just what made up those expectations were. The only writings that are contemporaneous with the life of Jesus are the Dead Sea Scrolls which represent a small fraction of. the Jewish population. Our ideas about are clouded by  NT interpretations which were designed to make sense of the events of Jesus’ life – that is, they were written in hindsight on the basis of their conviction that Jesus was “the one” sent by God. A reading of the OT and of the intertestamental literature reveals that there was not one, but a number of different expectations. What they have in common is a conviction that God would send someone to save Israel (from their sins or from the Romans.) The central figure of those expectations was variously a King, a warrior, or a priest.

What no one seems to have expected was a humble, travelling teacher from Galilee – certainly not someone born in obscurity, who critiqued the religion and who allowed himself to be arrested and to die. After all what good is a defeated, dead Messiah?

It is easy to sympathize with Peter. Peter has just identified Jesus as the Christ (Messiah) – and Jesus’ response has indicated that Peter is right. Yet barely has this interaction concluded when Jesus announces that “the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.” Peter must have been shaken to his core. Nothing in his past experience or his faith journey has prepared for a suffering Christ, let alone a Christ who dies (without achieving the defeat of Rome, or the restoration of the faith of Israel.)

 What Jesus has said would have made no sense to Peter or to the other disciples. Why would God send the Christ only to have him suffer and die? Of what value would that have been for those who have waited for generations for God to send someone to save them? Of course, we can see that Jesus announces his death in connection with his resurrection, but the notion of someone rising from the dead would have been well beyond Peter’s imagining as would the thought that one person’s dying and rising would make a difference on a grand scale.

 Unlike us, Peter has no idea where the story might end. So, flush with his newfound confidence that he has recognised Jesus as the Christ, Peter no doubt felt emboldened to take Jesus aside and rebuke him.After all what Jesus has said makes no sense at all. Jesus must be mistaken, Peter knew the expected trajectory of a triumphant Saviour and Jesus’ death was not part of it!

Peter’s problem, and ours, is that we think we know what God wants and how God will respond which is why Jesus didn’t measure up to the expectations of people – because they were human expectations not God’s plan. Jesus was not believed because his ideas were too radical, because he refused to judge ‘sinners’ but was happy to critique the self-righteous, and because he had no formal authority in the church structure.

 If we do not want to make Peter’s mistake, if we don’t want to be on the side of Satan rather than on the side of God, we must free ourselves of all our preconceptions, let go of all our expectations, open our minds to the unknown and, above all, we must let God be God (not our version of God).  

40 days in the wilderness with Mark

February 17, 2024

Lent 1 – 2024

Mark 1:9-15

Marian Free

In the name of God whose love is our beginning and our end. Amen.

I wonder, if we only had Mark’s account of Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness would our practice of Lent any different? Mark simply tells us: “The Spirit immediately drove him out (literally cast him out) into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.”  There is no mention here of fasting, no reference to Jesus being famished and no elaboration of the temptations. It is Matthew and Luke who fill out the story with details of three specific temptations and of Jesus being hungry.  Interestingly – in their accounts there is no record of wild animals and no reference to the angels ministering to Jesus.

We know from the gospels that fasting was a spiritual practice among the Pharisees in the time of Jesus, but in Mark’s gospel there is no evidence that Jesus himself fasts. In fact, Jesus is asked why his disciples do notfast when the disciples of John the Baptist and the Pharisees fast (Mark 2:18). Jesus may or may not have fasted.

The earliest Christians did fast. Possibly following the tradition of the Pharisees, the first believers fasted on a weekly basis though – as the first century document the Didache makes clear – they were to distinguish themselves from the hypocrites – presumably the Pharisees. In that document, we read that the community should not fast on the days that the hypocrites fast (the second and fifth days of the week,) but on the fourth day and on the day of preparation (Friday). That fasting was an accepted spiritual discipline among Christians by the second century is recorded in a letter written by Irenaeus bemoaning the fact that there was no common practice and that the discipline varied from one day of fasting to as many as 40 days.

Fasting for the forty days before Easter can be traced to the Council of Nicea in 325 CE which formalised the custom – possibly as a way to prepare for baptism. It took much longer for there to be a common practice throughout Christendom. Some places allowed the Lenten fast to be broken on Sundays, others not. Some only fasted from Monday to Friday, meaning that the 40 day fast took place over 8 weeks. In general, meat, fish and dairy were forbidden, as was consuming food before 3pm. During the reign of Pope Gregory the Great, the season of Lent was regularised. It was to begin 46 days before Lent, with a ceremony of ash. Sundays were excluded. During the 9th century the strictures were relaxed somewhat and by the 1800’s the emphasis on one meal a day was relaxed. Traditions and practices continue to evolve, but we maintain the practice established in the seventh century – Ash Wednesday to Easter Day, excluding Sundays.

To return to where I began, if we only had Mark’s gospel I wonder if it would make a difference to our Lenten observance?

It seems to me that there are four parts to Jesus’ experience as reported by Mark. First, we are told that Jesus was cast out, or thrown out into the wilderness. In other words, Jesus allowed himself to be tossed about by the Spirit. He didn’t fight the Spirit’s leading, no matter how uncomfortable it made him, or how unpleasant it seemed. Second, in the wilderness Jesus was tempted by Satan. Mark doesn’t elaborate on this point, but his gospel depicts a power play between Satan and God. Jesus now (and throughout his ministry) resists the temptation to rely on anything and anyone but God. 

Third, and this is perhaps the most difficult to make sense of – Jesus was with the wild animals. There is no suggestion that Jesus is in any kind of danger here so perhaps Mark means us to understand that in the wilderness Jesus identified himself wholly with all of God’s creation – the creation with whom God has made a covenant (as the reading from Genesis tells us (Gen 9:8-10)).[1]

Finally, Mark tells us that Jesus was ministered to by the angels. Out there in wilderness Jesus allowed God’s representatives to care for him. He didn’t need to assert his independence and he didn’t need to prove how strong-willed he was because he knew that God would take care of everything. 

What might this reading of Mark mean for us and for our observance of the 40 days before Easter?

In the first instance, we might allow Mark’s account re-frame the way that we see the season. Instead of seeing Lent as a time of penance and self-sacrifice, we might grasp opportunity to allow ourselves to be led by (tossed about by) the Spirit – as terrifying as that might be. 

In a world which places a premium on independence and self-reliance, we could learn to serve not ourselves (Satan), but God.  

In a world in which we have used the earth for our benefit and for which we are now paying the price, we might take a page out of Jesus’ experience in the wilderness and understand that we are part of, not apart from all creation, that working with and not against creation will be better for us and lead to the healing of the world.  

And finally, and for some of us the most difficult, we might use these 40 days to truly allow ourselves to trust in God’s unbounding love for us, accept that we are worthy of that love and in so doing permit the angels themselves to care for us. 

Mark’s account of Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness frees us to let go of any striving to be good, encourages us to abandon our attempts to punish ourselves for our shortcomings and allows us to stop using self-denial to prove how strong or how disciplined we are. It enables us to understand that Lent is less about what we do for God, and more about what we let God do to and with us. 

Our Lenten observances are based on the scriptures and moulded by centuries of tradition – that doesn’t prevent us from looking at it anew and seeing what Mark has to teach us. 

This Lent – Are we willing for the Spirit to toss us about? Can we let go our need to rely on ourselves? Do we understand that we are integrally related with all creation? And, can we accept that we are entirely worthy of God’s love?


[1] This is the suggestion of Dr Margaret Wesley who draws on today’s reading from Genesis to the effect that God has made a covenant with all creation.

Transfiguration- changing of the guard

February 10, 2024

Transfiguration – 2024

Mark 9:2-9

Marian Free

In the name of God who leads us into a future that is as yet unknown. Amen.

Most of us associate the expression “changing of the guard” with the ceremony surrounding the moment when soldiers who have been guarding a significant government building or boundary for a period of time are replaced by those who are rostered on for the next period of time. In England the tradition goes back to the time of Henry VII and the idea was to show both military discipline and ceremony.  In England the guards are those who protect Buckingham Palace, but the practice is not unique to the UK. The border guards along the Indian Pakistani frontier also have quite an elaborate ritual when one group of soldiers replaces another, and no doubt other cultures have ceremonies of their own.

 

The phrase “changing of the guard” has entered our vocabulary. We use it refer to the time when a leader, a political party or other group or person of influence hands over their position to another person or group. In common parlance, “changing of the guard” is often associated with a change (sometimes subtle and often difficult) in style and policy.

 

It had never occurred to me that one way of looking at the Transfiguration was to see it as God’s way of making clear to the disciples that in Jesus there was to be a ‘changing of the guard.’ After Jesus was transfigured, Elijah and Moses appeared and spoke with him. Peter was terrified! Both Elijah and Moses were heroes of the Jewish faith. More than that, there was a widespread belief that Elijah would return before the end and among the community of Qumran there was also an expectation that Moses would return at the end of time. It is entirely possible that Peter thought that the presence of Elijah and Moses was a sign that they had returned to presage the end times.

 

According to William Placher, who is referenced by Chelsea Harmon[1], this is why Peter wants to make dwellings for the three men. If Elijah and Moses have returned, and if, as Peter has declared six days previously, Jesus is the Christ, the anointed one of God, they must be properly sheltered as they await the coming of the end.  The problem, Placher

points out is that in declaring that three shelters are needed, Peter is making it clear that he believes Elijah and Moses to be equal to Jesus – even though it is Jesus alone who has been transfigured. In response, the voice from heaven seems to be chiding him: “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” (Elijah and Moses come from the past and belong to the past. God is doing something new. Now is the time to listen to Jesus.)

What Peter, and presumably James and John have failed to realize is that Jesus represents the changing of the guard. The prophets had their part to play, but now they must give way to Jesus, the beloved Son.

 

To be fair, it must have been confusing for the disciples – steeped as they were in the expectations of their faith, tied as they were to current practices and expressions of faith. Jesus didn’t enter the world with a bang, Jesus didn’t behave as they disciples expected a Messiah to behave, and Jesus didn’t conform to the religious standards of the day. Jesus has to bring the disciples along with him. He has to keep correcting the disciples, God has to keep giving them hints (or prods) and Jesus has to try to be as explicit as he can as to what they might or might not expect.

 

(When Peter rebukes Jesus for announcing that he will have to suffer, Jesus harshly likens him Satan, when Peter wants to build tents on a mountain top, God makes it clear that it is Jesus alone who will inaugurate the promised future, when James and John conspire to be at Jesus’ right and left hand, Jesus has to remind them that his message is counter-cultural – the greatest will be least and the first will be last).

 

To us, these thousands of years later, Jesus’ transfiguration seems an obvious way to reveal Jesus’ true identity, but to Peter, James and John it was anything but clear. Overawed by the presence of such great names as Elijah and Moses, they see Jesus as one among many, not as the one.

 

The Transfiguration is just one of the many occasions on which the misunderstanding of the disciples is used by God, or by Jesus to help them understand that something different is happening. Jesus might be one in a long line of heroes and prophets, but he is much more than that. Jesus represents a changing of the guard. Elijah and Moses belong to the past. Jesus belongs to the future. From now on everything will be the same – Jesus was and remained a Jew, as do the disciples. At the same time everything will be different – Jesus exposes all the misconceptions that have grown up over the centuries. He reminds the community of things long forgotten. He challenges the leaders of the church and models a new style of leadership.

 

All of this took some getting used to. The disciples would have to surrender their old ways of thinking and acting. They would have to learn to be truly open to what Jesus has to say and they would have to be willing to take risks – risks that might cost them their lives. The present and past must have seemed safe and comfortable in comparison.

 

On the mountain top Peter, James and John see Jesus revealed in glory but more than that, they begin to learn that they cannot hold on to the past but must let go of what has been so that they can begin to comprehend what might be.

We, like the disciples have become comfortable with the church as we know it. But the church as we love is dying. It took more than the Transfiguration for the disciples to grasp that God, in Jesus was beginning of something new. What will it take for us to see the future God had planned for us? What will it take for us to learn when to hold on and when to let go? What is God saying to us today?

 

 


[1] https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2024-02-05/mark-92-9-4/