Archive for the ‘Mark’s gospel’ Category

Being childish or being as a child

October 16, 2021

Pentecost 21 – 2021

Mark 10:35-45

Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier. Amen.

 

Last weekend I was babysitting one of the grandchildren. His current fascination is “racetracks” and he has some very interesting ways of constructing them. In one iteration two chairs were pulled together so that ideally the cars could gather enough speed travelling down the arm of one chair that they could jump the gap between the chairs and continue racing. Sadly, even with some firm card in between it didn’t really work. That however did not put a damper on the game – or should I say – competition. Each of us could choose a number of cars and the one who had the most cars over the line was the winner. I probably don’t need to tell you that: a) I always chose cars that I wasn’t meant to choose and b) that no matter where my car ended up there was some reason that I wasn’t the winner. The final score was something like 7 to 2 in my grandchild’s favour.

 

This of course is quite normal behaviour for a five-year-old. It is an important step in their development, a way in which they work out their own identity, their place in the world, and how they learn to feel safe and secure. Over time most children learn that it is OK if they don’t win all the time. Some, however, never learn and never develop a sense of their own worth that does not rely on being the best, being the centre of attention or being affirmed. Indeed, few of us truly grow up. Most of us spend our lives measuring ourselves against others – a state of being that is reinforced by the society in which we live – a society that values winning, that promotes being bigger and better and encourages the amassing of possessions.

 

As we have observed over the past few weeks, Jesus’ disciples fall into the category of those who have failed to fully grow up. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times Jesus tells them that competition, comparison and one-up-manship have no place in the kingdom, they don’t seem to get it. Jesus models inclusion and the disciples want to form a special in-crowd. Jesus speaks of giving his life for others and the disciples argue among themselves as to who is the greatest. Jesus talks about suffering and dying, and James and John ask to sit at his right hand and his left. Jesus says that those who want to be first must be last and still the disciples want to rule over others.

 

Jesus, the only one among us who could claim to be superior, divests himself of anything that could suggest power or a claim to being more important, more deserving than anyone else. We see this from the very beginning of his ministry. When he was tempted in the desert, he absolutely refused to be caught up in the power play in which the devil was trying to engage him. He doesn’t operate alone as if he is the only one through whom God works. One of his first actions is to choose disciples whom he endows with the same powers that he has, and then he sends them off on their own to teach and to cast out demons! For Jesus it was never about competition or about measuring himself against others but always about equipping and empowering others.

 

That the early church recognised this quality is evident in the Christ hymn of Philippians 2: “Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.  Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,

            who, though he was in the form of God,

                        did not regard equality with God

                        as something to be exploited,

            but emptied himself,

                        taking the form of a slave,

                        being born in human likeness.

            And being found in human form,

                        he humbled himself

                        and became obedient to the point of death—

                        even death on a cross.”

Even though Jesus was/is God, he didn’t presume on this to set himself apart from the rest of humanity, but fully immersed himself in the human condition. In so doing, he demonstrated that by divesting ourselves of all striving, of all attempts to be better than, smarter than others, we in fact become most truly ourselves and at the same time become most truly content.

Ever since Jesus first announced his death and resurrection the disciples have willfully or foolishly misunderstood the nature of discipleship. No matter how Jesus has worded his teaching – “take up your cross”, “be servant of all and slave of all”, “the first must be last,” “it is to such as these (referring to the lowest of the low) that the kingdom of God belongs”.  Can you imagine just how frustrated and disappointed Jesus must have been when James and John ask to be given seats at Jesus’ right and at his left? Jesus has told the disciples over and over and over again that discipleship was not about power and authority and yet James and John have still not understood. They believe that by hitching their wagon to Jesus that they will be able to stand out from the crowd, to be distinctive. It will not be until they have watched Jesus suffer and die (and rise again) that they will finally understand the true meaning of servant leadership and grasp what it means to lose their life to gain it. Before that they will continue to misunderstand to the point of betraying and abandoning him.

 

Unlike the disciples we have the advantage of the gospels and can learn from their mistakes, yet how many of us fall into the trap of fitting the cultural norms, how many of us express our discontent with who we are by competing with others and trying to prove ourselves, how many of us forget that our primary task is to fit ourselves for the kingdom of heaven?

 

If we want to know what it means to be disciples we need only read from Mark 8:27 and Jesus’ first prediction of his passion to learn that discipleship involves prioritizing others, caring for the vulnerable and being willing to give up everything that stands between ourselves and God.

 

The good news is that God doesn’t give up on us, that it doesn’t matter how slow we are or how foolish we are and that we have a life-time to try to do what it takes.

 

Complete surrender

October 9, 2021

Pentecost 20 – 2021
Mark 10:17-31
Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God – Earth-maker, Pain-bearer and Life-giver. Amen.

It has been a long time since I have had to do a comprehension test. So long that I’m not sure that I can accurately remember what they entailed. I do know that they were a component of my early primary school years and I imagine that they were an important aspect of my German lessons. From memory, a comprehension test involved reading a text (or having it read to me) and then being asked a number of questions to determine how well I had understood the passage.

How well would you do, do you think if I gave you a test on today’s gospel? To begin with, you might have to divide what is quite a complex text into its component parts – Jesus’ conversation with the man, Jesus’ teaching his disciples and Jesus’ response to Peter’s question. With regard to the first six verses, I might ask: What Jesus was doing? How did the man approach Jesus? What do we know about the man and what did he want from Jesus? How did Jesus respond and how did the meeting end?

There are a number of points of interest in this text. In the first instance Jesus was “setting out”. He was continuing on his journey when a man ran up and knelt before him? Kneeling is a strange thing to do as the man is not asking Jesus from Jesus. What is the reason for his urgency and why does he kneel, especially when he seems so confident in his own goodness and piety? Interestingly, Jesus rejects the expression “good” Teacher, reminding the man that only God is good. Then instead of listing the ten commandments Jesus mentions only six and does not include love of God or love of neighbour.

I find this one of the more poignant encounters in the gospels. We have to assume that the man’s question and his sense of urgency were genuine, but his confidence in himself could have been seen as arrogance. Was he simply hoping that Jesus would affirm his goodness and his piety? We don’t know. What we do know is that Jesus doesn’t censure the man for the interruption or for his lack of humility. Instead, he looks at him and loves him. Then he drops a bombshell: “you lack one thing, go, sell what you own and come follow me.”
According to Mark the man is shocked (or even appalled) by Jesus’ words. Jesus’ answer was certainly not what he was expecting. He believed, as did his contemporaries, that wealth signified God’s favour. The man presumably saw his possessions as an affirmation that he was keeping the commandments to God’s satisfaction. How could Jesus possibly ask him to give up the very thing that proved his worth in God’s eyes? It was a step too far but even so he went away grieving. He had not found what he sought.

There has been much debate as to whether or not discipleship entails giving up one’s possessions or not, but the central point of this passage is not wealth, rather it is our willingness to depend on and to trust in God. It is about whether we believe that our place in the Kingdom of God and our certainty of inheriting heaven depends on earthly values – wealth and status or on heavenly values. It is about whether we rely our own efforts to achieve the Kingdom or whether we graciously accept that Jesus has done all that needs to be done.

Ever since Jesus announced his death and resurrection he has had to correct misunderstandings about the nature of discipleship. Now he finds that he has to adjust expectations as to what is required to enter the kingdom of God. The two, of course are related. Jesus has been at pains to make it clear that discipleship involves sacrifice not exaltation, service not power, collaboration, not competition. Discipleship does not confer status or make one distinctive – just the opposite. In the same way the Kingdom of God is not characterised by social climbing, rivalry or competition. There is no hierarchy in heaven. We will not be spending eternity comparing ourselves to others so why would we believe that it is OK to do that in the present.

God does not have a hierarchy. We are not measured by how well we compare (or do not compare) with others but by how well we have learnt Jesus’ lesson of complete surrender. We are judged not by what we have, but by what we have been willing to forgo, not by what we have done, but by what we have graciously allowed God to do for us.

Status and wealth might define us in the present but, as Jesus has been at pains to point out over the past few weeks, they are irrelevant in the Kingdom of God. As the saying goes: you can’t take it with you – not wealth, not status – not anything that we cling to that we beleive gives our lives meaning and which distinguish us from those around us. Jesus is trying to make it clear by his teaching and by his example that, if we want to be part of the Kingdom – in the present, or for eternity, then we need to begin to live the kingdom values now. Not only will that prepare us for eternity, but it will radically change the present.

The man who approached Jesus was defined by his possessions – physical, earthly evidence of his worth and his goodness. He refused to believe that his life had value without them. He was unable to accept that there are no distinctions in heaven. He was so concerned for the present that he was unable to prepare himself for the future.

What about us? Are we preparing ourselves for eternity or allowing ourselves to be defined by earthly symbols, earthly values? If we cannot relinquish our symbols of worth in the present, what makes us think that we will be ready to relinquish them in order to enter heaven?

What do you cling to and can you begin to let it go?

Compassion before the law

October 2, 2021

Pentecost 19 – 2021
Mark 10:2-16
Marian Free

In the name of God who desires that we might have life and have it to the full. Amen.

Last weekend the Anglican Church of Southern Queensland met for its annual Synod. There will I hope, be a report from your Synod representatives but I did want to comment on a couple of motions that stood out for me. One was the motion regarding intimate partner violence. The motion called on the Synod to acknowledge the recent report of the General Synod Family Violence Working Group which revealed that there was a higher incidence of domestic violence among Anglicans than in the population as a whole. The motion requested the establishment of a Diocesan Family Violence Working Group to oversee the work of policy development, training and education on prevention, intervention, and response. Though some voiced concern that the statistics used in the report might not be accurate, there was overwhelming support for the motion. What stood out though was the amendment that suggested that if Synod was really serious about raising awareness about domestic violence and of finding ways to end it that we should fund a full-time position for someone to do the work. Motions that ask for money not already in the budget usually fail, but this one did not.

A second motion that caught my attention and that caused some controversy was one that encouraged our Synod to take responsibility for the document Faithfulness in Service – the code of conduct for all clergy, office bearers and volunteers in the Diocese. A significant number of Synod members argued against the change. They were worried that this represented a movement away from the national standards and that if we passed it would be in direct contradiction to the recommendations of the Royal Commission that urged the church to have a consistent set of guidelines across the country. Even though a considerable number of other dioceses have already claimed the right to make changes in the document and even though The Chancellor, Justice Mullens pointed out that different states imposed different regulations that had to be followed, many Synod Representatives were still uncomfortable with the motion. It was only when Bishop Cameron spoke that the mood of Synod completely changed. His point was this: that if a national document insisted (for example) that divorcees not be permitted to hold office in our church, that in all probability a significant number of Synod representatives would have to stand down. He guessed, apparently correctly, that among those present there were more than a few people who fell into that category and that that might be something our Synod would have an opinion on. He was right and after his speech the motion passed.

Today’s gospel deals with divorce. The Pharisees were trying to catch Jesus out on a legal issue, in this instance the justification for divorce. This was a question on which they themselves could not agree. Deuteronomy 24:1 reads: “Suppose a man enters into marriage with a woman, but she does not please him because he finds something objectionable about her, and so he writes her a certificate of divorce, puts it in her hand, and sends her out of his house; she then leaves his house and goes off to become another man’s wife. Then suppose the second man dislikes her, writes her a bill of divorce, puts it in her hand, and sends her out of his house (or the second man who married her dies); her first husband, who sent her away, is not permitted to take her again to be his wife after she has been defiled.”. The passage doesn’t mention adultery, but Shammai and his disciples argued that the only grounds on which a man could divorce his wife was adultery. Hillel and his followers took Deuteronomy more literally and claimed that a wife could be divorced for anything that annoyed or embarrassed her husband.

It must be remembered that women in the first century had no legal status, no means of earning an income and were completely dependent on their husband. A woman who was divorced would (unless their father was alive) or a brother took her in have no means of support and would be forced to beg to survive.

Jesus will not be drawn into the argument of the Pharisees. Instead, he points to a completely different verse – Genesis 2:24 – in marriage a man and a woman become one flesh. The only reason for divorce, Jesus suggests is adultery. In responding to the question of the Pharisees, Jesus is less concerned with quibbling over the fine details of the law and more concerned with the protection of the vulnerable. Compassion, in Jesus’ worldview, always comes before the rigid enforcement of one law or another.

That the discussion on divorce has to do with concern for and the protection of the vulnerable becomes clear when we place it in its literary context. The reference to children with which today’s reading concludes takes us back to the mention of children in the gospel of two weeks ago. On that occasion Jesus challenged his bickering disciples by placing a child in their midst and insisting that they welcome the vulnerable, the least worthy and those who would diminish rather than enhance their status. Last week, we saw that Jesus continued this theme by insisting that the disciples note that the consequence of causing harm to any one of “these little ones” was catastrophic.

If Jesus primary mandate for discipleship is to protect and welcome the vulnerable, then it could be argued that we (collectively) have failed miserably over the centuries. As we have learned to our shame, we have utterly failed to keep vulnerable children safe, we have perpetuated misinterpretations of scripture that have led to domestic violence, or which have kept people in unhappy marriages. We have abandoned or mistreated single mothers and judged those who don’t meet our standards. Contrary to Jesus’ example we have argued over details of the law rather than consider the plight of the poor, the marginalised and the dispossessed.

All this could be different. If like Jesus we put compassion first, we would not be so concerned about the meaning of the law but would always see the needs of those around us and be compelled to release them from their suffering.

Difficult and incoherent – Jesus on discipleship

September 25, 2021

Pentecost 18 – 2021
Mark 9:38-50
Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God who in Jesus gives us the perfect model of discipleship. Amen.

Millstones around one’s neck, cutting off one’s hands and feet, pulling out one’s eyes, entering life deformed rather than facing the fires of Gehenna – verses 42-48 of Mark chapter 9 are utterly confronting, even incomprehensible. In fact, the entirety of today’s reading is perhaps the most difficult of all to understand let alone to preach on. To quote C. Clifton Black “It contains things that drive the conscientious (of preachers) into a slough of despondence: exorcisms (38), multiple disturbances in the Greek text, footnoted in responsible English translations (vv 42,44,45, 46, 49) and hard sayings of Jesus (39-41) that are logically incoherent (48-50) or which are manifestly outrageous (42-47) .”

Thankfully, the passage makes a lot more sense and is a lot more coherent it we take a step back and read it in context – both from a literary point of view and from an historical/cultural perspective. The verses that we have read this morning follow directly on from last Sunday’s gospel which began with Jesus’ second prediction of his passion and resurrection, was followed by the disciples’ bickering about who was the greatest and concluded with Jesus’ visual parable about the nature of discipleship – Jesus “sat down and called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” 36 Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, 37 “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” The second saying in this pair illustrates and expands the first in that a child is an example of the “last of all.” In an aural culture, the two sayings would be further linked by the similar sounding Greek words παιδον for child and παις for servant.

This connection between the two parts of Jesus’ illustration warns us against romanticising Jesus’ use of a child to make his point. “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” Jesus says. Time has softened the offense of Jesus’ statement here. In the twenty first century we have a very different attitude towards children from that of Jesus’ time and place. In the first century, children, along with slaves, were on the lowest rung of society: they had no legal status, no agency and certainly no self-determination. A person would gain no social or economic gain from welcoming a child – in fact their reputation would be compromised rather than enhanced if they were to pay much heed to someone who had nothing to offer them in terms of honour and status. A child was not unlike the “the last of all and the servant of all” for “the servant of all” was, as the expression implies, at the very bottom of the social ladder. A servant or διακονος was someone who served the food and the servant of all would only be able to eat after everyone else had eaten enough to satisfy them.

Jesus is doing here what he does so well. By insisting that his disciples welcome children as they would welcome him Jesus is completely reversing the cultural norms of his day. He is teaching his disciples that they are not to seek (or expect) honour and status but are to be “servants of all” and are to welcome into their midst the lowest of the low, the most marginalised and the most vulnerable – those who not only cannot confer status, but who will, by their very presence lessen the disciples’ own position in society.

Today’s complex and difficult reading is a continuation of this theme – that discipleship does not confer power or set apart, but rather calls one to sacrifice one’s position in the world by immersing oneself in the lives of those who are most despised and who have the least to offer.

This is spelt out in a number of ways. First of all Jesus makes it clear that discipleship is not a special club consisting of the “in-crowd”, nor does it confer special powers and privileges on only a few. If therefore, the disciples notice someone casting out demons in Jesus’ name, they are not to stop them. Being a disciple does not give a person special privileges. The disciples should rejoice that others, however unconnected to Jesus, are able to exercise the powers that Jesus has bestowed on them.

Secondly, Jesus points out that with discipleship comes great responsibility. Not only are disciples expected to welcome the most vulnerable and the least worthy, they are also to note that the consequences of causing harm to anyone of “these little ones” are catastrophic. It would be better, Jesus says, to have a millstone placed around their neck and be cast into the sea! This means, he continues, that rather than risking harm to others, those things that might cause such harm should be dealt with in the most radical way possible and disposed of.

Finally, Jesus seems to sum up what he has been saying since he announced his death and resurrection for the second time. That is that discipleship involves sacrifice not exaltation, service not power, collaboration, not competition. For this he uses the image of salt which in the Old Testament is associated with sacrifice. When we see the passage as a whole we can see that we have come full-circle. What began with Jesus’ second announcement of his passion was followed by the disciples’ argument about who was the greatest. Jesus then confronted the disciples’ status-seeking behaviour by insisting that they become last of all, that they welcome those who can confer no status. He challenges their desire to be distinctive, by welcoming anyone who casts out demons in his name, he insists, that they cause harm to no one and that they, like him are willing to give everything – even their lives – for the sake of others.

Discipleship is so much more than simply living good lives. It is about following Jesus’ example, no matter what that might cost us in terms of respect, reputation, ambition. It means putting ourselves last and others first, and giving up everything for the privilege of following Jesus – who gave up everything for us.

Can we do better?

September 18, 2021

Pentecost 17 – 2021
Mark 9:30-37
Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Earth-Maker, Pain-Bearer and Life-Giver. Amen.

Several years ago, a medical conference was held in Hawaii to examine the multi-cultural aspects of effective treatment. Hawaii is apparently the most racially diverse place in the world and the hospital staff there were discovering that patients responded differently according to their backgrounds and their expectations. A story that has stayed with me from that report is the account of the death of one of their patients. The gentleman concerned was from Turkey. When he died his wife and daughter howled inconsolably – ululating loudly and swaying back and forth. Without thinking the staff tried to comfort the grieving women, to offer words of consolation that might help them in this moment of utter desolation. What they didn’t realise at the time was that their attempts were not only futile but were in fact both unwarranted and unwanted. Both mother and daughter were behaving in a way that for them was culturally appropriate. Loud and lengthy wailing was their way of coping with grief and in trying to calm them down the staff were in fact preventing them from doing what, to them, was the most helpful response to the situation.

At times when we feel uncomfortable, we behave in ways that lessen our own sense of unease without necessarily thinking about the impact our behaviour will have on others. When we hear bad news, a natural response is to try to find explanations for what is happening, as if understanding a calamity might mitigate its effect. In the face of danger, we may deny what is happening or try to imagine a positive outcome rather than face the horror of reality. If someone says something difficult or confronting, we may be tempted to change the subject so that we don’t have to deal with the issue at hand.

Certainly, the disciples respond in all these ways to Jesus’ announcement that he must suffer and die, before rising from the dead. Three times Jesus announces his impending arrest, suffering, death, and resurrection and three times the disciples respond in ways that demonstrate that they do not want (or simply cannot bear) to hear what he has to say. They are confused and frightened so they turn the conversation towards topics that they can understand and over which they have some control. Last week we heard that Peter was so upset by Jesus’ announcement that he rebuked (tried to silence) him. Today we learn that the disciples as a group turn the discussion to something very earthly – who is the greatest. Next week we will discover that James and John have completely blocked out what Jesus has said and have convinced themselves that Jesus really is the one who is going to reclaim the kingdom from the Romans and who can offer them positions of power commensurate to his own.

Each of these accounts follow a similar pattern: Jesus’ prediction, the disciple’s failure to understand and Jesus’ correction of their misunderstanding followed by an illustration of the meaning of discipleship. Jesus points out that instead of avoiding death, the disciples are to meet it front on. They are to take up their cross and follow him. Instead of competing as to who is the greatest, they are to put themselves last by placing the most vulnerable, the most marginalised ahead of themselves. Rather than seeing discipleship as an opportunity to “lord it over others” Jesus’ followers are reminded that they are not to be like the Gentiles but are to serve one another. In each instance Jesus turns the cultural expectations of his time on their head. He knows that it is natural to want to preserve one’s life, to establish one’s place in the pecking order and to seek recognition. For disciples though the opposite is expected.

Clearly Jesus’ teaching is difficult for the disciples to comprehend. They have yet to understand the nature of Jesus’ ministry and the consequences that will ensue. They want to prevent his death and they want to continue to believe that in following him they will share in his reflected glory. They cannot, at least for the moment, suspend their cultural expectations and allow themselves to be fully caught up in Jesus’ reversal of those attitudes.

So uncomprehending are the disciples that Jesus is forced to repeat himself three times in three different ways and still the disciples cannot grasp the implications of what he is saying – about himself and about what it means to follow him. It is not until they are faced with the reality of Jesus’ death and resurrection that they finally grasp what it means to be disciples – they are to take hold of life with both hands and with no fear of death, they are to broaden their concept of who is in and who is out such that no one is excluded and they are to lead, not by lording it over others, but through service to them. Discipleship may not, in fact probably won’t, lead to fame and fortune but it will at its best turn the world on its head.

As members of the institutional church, we too often find ourselves as part of the establishment, supporters of the status quo, bound by cultural norms. Since Constantine our bishops have had positions of status (and even power) in the community. For centuries the church (as institution) has engaged in more in self-preservation than in the protection of the vulnerable (as the child sex abuse reports reveal). Throughout the centuries there have many issues on which the Church has been more concerned with its reputation than with providing a welcome for the marginalised – the single mother, the divorced, the ex-prisoner, the druggie. Indeed, rather than embrace the outsider, the Church has at times been guilty of looking down on (and even excluding) those considered to be disreputable – those who threaten the sanctity of the church.

In other words, Jesus’ instructions on discipleship continue to fall on deaf ears.

Perhaps after all three times is not enough. Perhaps Jesus needs to repeat over and over and over again that he will suffer, die and rise and that we his disciples must take up our cross, welcome the vulnerable and marginalised and eschew power for servanthood.

Can we do better? I suspect that we can.

Joining the battle against evil (some thoughts)

September 10, 2021

Pentecost 16 – 2021
Mark 8:27-38
Marian Free

In the name of God who demands our complete commitment. Amen.

During the week I did some research for a short piece on William Tyndale. Tyndale lived in England in the 15-16th centuries in a time of great political and intellectual foment that was the Reformation. Few educated people could be unaware of the ideas that were coming out of Europe at that time -ideas that were considered seditious and dangerous because they threatened the authority of both church and state. At the same time scholars like Erasmus who had escaped the Ottoman invasion of Constantinople had brought with them to Europe and England copies of the Greek Bible. This made it possible to read the New Testament in its original language rather than in the Latin translation.

Educated at Oxford and Cambridge, Tyndale was by all accounts a person of great intellect. He was fluent in 8 languages including Greek and Hebrew. He became obsessed with translating the Bible into English from its original Greek and with making it available to the greatest as to the least so that everyone could read the Bible for themselves. When he read the Greek, Tyndale noticed that a number of errors had been made in the Latin translation – a translation that supported the theology of the the church and which served to keep the people in a state of fear for their immortal souls.

Tyndale’s enthusiasm for understanding the scriptures was to cost him his life, but every English translation since has relied heavily on his work. (In the King James’ Bible for example, more than 80% relies on Tyndale’s translation.

Translation is important. Only a small proportion of Christians are fluent in New Testament Greek and those who are not are entirely reliant on their work. The problem is that no matter how dispassionate the translator, translation always involves a certain amount of interpretation as the scholar tries to discern the intent of an author who is removed temporally, geographically, and culturally from their own time and place in history. Often there is no English word or phrase to exactly match the original and sometimes an interpretative decision has to be made by the translator. The situation is made worse by the fact that the original Greek was written in capital letters and without punctuation. This leaves it to the translator to decide where sentences begin and end and where commas, question marks and so on were intended.

Evidence of the difficulties faced by translators (and therefore by ourselves the readers) can be illustrated by today’s gospel. A reading of the Greek would suggest that this is the “Gospel’s most verbally abusive passage”. C. Clifton Black points out that three times Jesus or Peter tells the other to “shut up”. Unfortunately, perhaps to avoid offending our sensibilities, or to gloss over the obvious conflict, our translators have softened the language. Instead of “shut up”, the translators have used language like “sternly ordered”, and “rebuked”. Even then the force of the language is not entirely hidden. A reading of the gospel as a whole reveals that “rebuked” is the verb that is used to silence demons and to quell the gale. It is a word that is brought to bear when Jesus wants to assert his authority over the powers that oppose him.

What we have here then, is not a simple disagreement between Jesus and Peter. Nor is it merely a case of Peter’s misunderstanding. It is a battle between the forces of good and evil – Peter, as Jesus’ response indicates, representing Satan. Jesus, in this moment has to firmly and finally put down all opposition to his mission. He has to completely defy any attempts to make him (and his ministry) conform to any earthly expectations. He has to ensure that his disciples understand that to stand in his way, or to stand against him, is to do the work of Satan.

Both Jesus and Peter use confronting language for a confronting situation. For the first time, Peter is being forced to come to grips with who and what Jesus really is and what it means to follow him. Peter is being faced with the fact that Jesus’ mission will not end in triumph, but in apparent failure. It is not surprising that he reacts so strongly – Jesus’ negative thoughts must be dispelled! On the other hand, Jesus, who has already stood against the devil in the wilderness, knows his own strength and will not let even his closest friend dissuade him from his purpose.

Even in our translated versions of the gospel, this is a difficult passage. We do not expect such strong language from Jesus but perhaps now, more than ever, we need to hear Jesus’ rebuke of Peter. Society may be changing, but by and large the church still has a comfortable place within it. The cross has lost much of its offense. For many, following Jesus is as much about living “good lives” as it is about risking everything to confront the forces of evil that exist in the world – corruption, greed, selfishness etc. We are relatively content to go about our lives without facing the injustices that condemn others to poverty and despair. Today’s gospel challenges us to rethink what it means to follow Jesus.

Jesus’ rebuke of Peter is followed by his asking us his followers “to take up their cross and follow him”. Are we who claim to follow Jesus willing to risk our comfortable existence to do just that?

Arguing with God

September 4, 2021

Pentecost 15 – 2021
Mark 7:24-37
Marian Free

In the name of God, known to us in creation, through the life of Jesus, by the prompting of the Spirit and in the written word. Amen.

Last week I attended the Northern Region Clergy Conference. In our Conference bags was a copy of a recently released book written by a British priest, Miranda Threlfall-Holmes – “How to Eat Bread – 21 Nourishing Ways to Read the Bible .” In a novel and accessible way, Miranda guides the reader into a deeper understanding of the ways in which one can and should approach our scriptures. In so doing, she takes away some of the mystery that can be associated with a book that is often difficult and which contains themes and ideas that are foreign (and even distasteful) to our experience.

The Bible is our story, the basis of our faith, the source of our knowledge about the one true God. Its complexity should not daunt us, but we may need some tools to help us to get the most out of our reading.

For example, when we read the Bible, it is important to bear in mind including that it was not written in one sitting, nor was it authored by just one person. It is a collection (a library even) of sixty-six books. Within the bible we find different styles of literature written during different periods of history to address particular situations. Books of the Bible cover history, law, poetry, proverbs, stories, prophetic books, gospels, letters, sermons, and apocalyptic literature. Each book has to be read according to the type of literature that it represents. If we were to read a book such as one of the wisdom books (A Song of Songs, Ecclesiastes) as if it was history, we would completely miss the point and would find ourselves taking literally something that was intended figuratively.

Because the Bible was written over a long period of time, those who wrote at a later date would have known and used pre-existing writings (explicitly and implicitly) to speak to their own time and place. Unlike modern scholars, they would not have had to use footnotes to reference where their quotes came from, nor would they have felt any obligation to be precise. (For example, the quotation attributed to John the Baptist is a combination – coming from both Isaiah and Micah for example.) Knowing that the Bible itself includes a number of different forms of interpretation, means that we do not need to feel ourselves limited to one or another way of reading/understanding it.

Very little of the Bible was written in real time. The Gospels were only committed to paper thirty to forty years after Jesus’ death. During that time the stories were told and retold which allowed variations to creep in. Genesis, the first book of the Bible consists of stories that had been told and retold for thousands of years. It reflects debates regarding the nature of God and of humanity, questions and answers as to why things are the way they are.

As Miranda points out, the various writings have been gathered over time because people who believed in the God of the Israelites felt that these books captured their experience of God and/or that they were significant in building up their spiritual life. She says: “They (the books) are not simply a list of beliefs about God” (or, I would add, a collection of rules that must be obeyed). Scripture represents: “stories, thought experiments or dreams that are meant to be troubling, unsettling, or even to make you angry .”

All this is a rather long-winded introduction to the practice of debate in scripture and, in particular the practice of arguing with God – Miranda’s first chapter. As she points out, one of the ways of coming to understand and of developing a relationship with the one true God is represented through debate. This was particularly the case when it came to trying to come to grips with the question of good and evil and how it is that a good God allows bad things to happen.

Not only did our forebears argue with one another as they tried to understand what it meant to have faith, but they had no difficulty arguing with God. Abraham had no problem challenging God’s decision to destroy Sodom, Isaac wrestled with God and Job questioned God’s treatment of him – just to mention a few examples.

That Jesus was a part of this tradition is evident from the way in which he countered the arguments of the Pharisees as they struggled together about the meaning of scriptures – what did it mean to keep the Sabbath holy, which commandments were the most important, was ritual washing essential in everyday life and so on? Arriving at a definitive answer was not as important as struggling with the question. This tells us, as Miranda suggests, that the point of engaging with scripture is: “to encounter God and to let ourselves be formed and changed by the process of argument itself .”

Today’s gospel addresses, in the form of debate, the question about the inclusion of the Gentiles in the people of God. Jesus’ encounter with the Syrophoenician woman was a vital step in the movement of the Christian faith from its Jewish origins to its place as a universal faith. In good rabbinic fashion, the woman refused to simply accept Jesus’ abrupt (rude?) refusal to help her. She held her ground and offered a different way of seeing the world and the relationship with God. If Jesus healed her daughter, she insisted, he would not be taking anything away from “the children” because there are always scraps or crumbs that fall from the table for the dogs to consume.

We neglect the Bible at our own peril. Not only does it tell our story, and the story of God’s relationship with us, it also encourages us to ask questions, to challenge the status quo, not to take anything for granted and to engage with the living God without fear.

If you haven’t already – give it a go!

Let’s not be hypocrites

August 28, 2021

Pentecost 14 – 2021
Mark 7:1-23
Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Earth-Maker, Pain-Bearer, Life-Giver. Amen.

There is a line in a hymn that reads: “The Lord has yet more light and truth things to break forth from his word .” It is a reminder that scripture is not static, but dynamic and always has something more to reveal to us. At the Clergy Conference during the week, we were looking at Mark’s account of the resurrection when a colleague of ours almost jumped out of her seat with excitement. She had been struck by a meaning of a verse that had never occurred to her before and which, had she seen it earlier, would have contributed greatly to her PhD. I can resonate with her experience. I have read the account of Jesus’ cleansing the Temple more times than I can remember and was astonished to realise recently that in all those years, I had completely missed the children in the Temple.

When we engage with scripture on a regular basis we notice new things. As we learn more about the Bible, the Bible reveals more and more of its secrets.

So it was that as I read this morning’s gospel – for the fourth or sixth time this week – I found myself wondering whether Jesus was actually a Pharisee. After all, why would the Pharisees care whether or not he and his disciples washed their hands unless he was one of them? Why would the Pharisees continually challenge Jesus on issues of law – like keeping the Sabbath, forgiveness of sins, fasting and divorce, unless they had reason to believe that he had (or should have had) the same interpretation of the law as themselves?

Once I started down this track I realised that there are some other details that support this argument – for example Jesus and the Pharisees both believe in the resurrection of the dead and the passion narrative in Mark does not include the Pharisees among those who seek Jesus’ death. A quick look at the scholarship suggests that I am not alone in drawing this conclusion.

The Pharisees were a distinct group within Judaism. They were lay people and scribes who differed from the Sadducees and the priests primarily in their attitude to the Torah (the first five books of the Bible) and towards Hellenization (which was favoured by the Sadducees and resisted by the Pharisees). The Pharisees believed that the written law could be interpreted in the light of present circumstances, and they were concerned to understand how the Torah could be used to ensure holiness in everyday life. One of the ways in which they came to their conclusions was through debate – something that is reflected in their arguments with Jesus.

In Mark’s gospel, Jesus’ association with the Pharisees is at best neutral. Luke’s gospel presents a positive relationship in which Jesus has dinner with members of the Pharisees on more than one occasion and in which the Pharisees warn Jesus to beware of Herod. It is in Matthew’s gospel that we find the most strident attacks on the Pharisees and from which we probably derive our negative attitude to the group.

This is not helped by our interpretation of the word hypocrite which leads us to think that rather than simply debating the Pharisees, Jesus is deriding them. However, Jesus is not using the word in the way in which we are accustomed to understanding it. For us, “hypocrite” means saying one thing but doing another. Yet, it is quite clear from today’s text that the Pharisees do exactly what they say, and it is this that is the problem. “Hypocrite” here means an actor who is playing a role but who has not invested him or herself in it. Jesus’ criticism is that for his debating partners, the superficial action of washing hands no longer has any meaning. It has become an empty ritual that says nothing about the person’s state of holiness, let alone their relationship with God.

This apparent disconnect between outward show and the inward state of the heart, is probably what leads Jesus to make the connection between washing (ritual purity, external action) and sinfulness (moral purity, inner disposition). Calling the crowd to him, Jesus extends the argument from ritual to moral behaviour. The crowds have little interest in arguments about the law, but Jesus can use the illustration of appearance versus reality to challenge their moral behaviour. Having addressed the crowds Jesus takes the disciples aside and explains in detail what he means .

What are we to make of this passage in twenty-first century Brisbane? I suggest that reminds us that we are not to put too much stress on formulaic actions or traditions because such things can take on a meaning of themselves. Over time it is easy to forget why we do something, and just “because we have always done it” is not sufficient reason not to question it, or to resist change. Jesus’ parable about what we eat going into the sewer challenges us to focus, not on outward appearances, but on the state of our hearts. It is almost impossible to hide our true nature from others (let alone God) and pretending to be what we are not does more damage to ourselves than to anyone else.

Let us not be hypocrites. May our interior lives and our relationship with God be such that our outward appearance always matches our inward disposition.

Separation Anxiety

July 17, 2021

Pentecost 8 – 2021
Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Marian Free

In the name of God who understands our every need. Amen.

Anyone who has ever had to care for a toddler will know that there is no such thing as privacy. Toddlers have not yet found their place in the world. Their sense of security is still tied up with the adults with whom they are most familiar, and they want to be wherever those adults are.

Specialists tell us that separation anxiety is perfectly normal in children between 8 and 14 months. This is when they are starting to move around independently but concurrently they are losing the closeness and security that was associated with being carried from place to place and of having an adult with them when they entered new surroundings. At this stage of their development, children have not yet learned that separations from parents are not permanent and as babies have no concept of time, it is easy for them to imagine that a parent who moves out of sight is gone for ever .

For a child who is just learning to crawl or walk, the world has suddenly expanded, and it will take time for her (or him) to feel confident and secure in this new setting. This means that they will want to keep their primary caregiver within sight so that they can be reassured that they are safe. No wonder it is impossible for a parent or baby-sitter to have a shower or even to close the toilet door when the child is awake! The child just needs to know that you are still there. All the same having a child on your tail all day can be trying and a simple pleasure like taking a shower can become pure luxury.

The account of the beheading of John the Baptist has interrupted Mark’s narrative regarding the sending out of the disciples. At the beginning of chapter six Jesus sent out the twelve and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. The twelve went out and “cast out many demons and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.”

Our gospel today picks up the story. The apostles have returned after their successful mission. No doubt they are both are excited and overwhelmed by all that God has worked through them. They are almost certainly exhausted by their efforts and are bursting to share with Jesus and each other about all their experiences.

Not surprisingly, the crowds are excited too. Impressed by what they have witnessed, or wanting to bask in the disciples’ reflected glory, they are terrified that if they let Jesus out of their sight he and his friends might just disappear and leave them in a vacuum. Plus, there is so much that they simply do not understand. In their anxiety they press in on Jesus and the disciples such that ‘there was no leisure’ for Jesus and the disciples ‘even to eat’, let alone time for them to rest.

Whatever Jesus own needs are, he perceives that the twelve need time and space to process all that has happened to them and all that has been accomplished. He suggests that they find somewhere quiet– a place in the wilderness away from distractions and from the press of the crowds. Escape proves impossible. Jesus’ plan is thwarted. The crowds, like toddlers, cannot bear to be separated from Jesus. Their sense of the world and of who they are, has been challenged by Jesus’ teaching and actions. They are no longer the people they were – dependent on the priest and Pharisees, but they are a long way off being independent. They have not yet fully grasped what it means to be a follower of Jesus and what faith they have is tentative and uncertain. Jesus has opened the door to a new way of being and a new way of seeing but their understanding is limited and not fully formed. They are worried that without Jesus and/or the disciples there will be no one to help them to make sense of or to help them to navigate the new world that is opening before them.

So, when the people see Jesus get into the boat with the disciples, they anticipate where he is going and race ahead on foot.

Instead of finding the peace and quiet he longs for, Jesus arrives on the shore to see a great crowd but, like a patient parent, he does not get back into the boat and go somewhere else. He does not sigh in frustration or explode in anger nor does not send the crowd away or demand to be left alone. Jesus can see these people for who they are – lost, immature in faith and longing for someone to lead them. They are like toddlers, insecure, anxious, dependent, not sure that they are safe, not confident that they can find their way on their own. To use Jesus’ language, they are like ‘sheep without a shepherd’. Peace (like a shower) will have to wait. Jesus understands that however much he needs time and space to reflect, he will need to attend to the needs of these people before he can begin to meet the needs of himself and his disciples.

And what do they need? They need to learn and to grow. It is not miracles that will enable them to stand on their own two feet. Casting out demons will not help them to discern what Jesus is offering or to grasp the new horizons that are opening out before them. So, Jesus doesn’t heal but teaches them many things. He tries to give them the tools that they need to grow in faith and understanding, to equip them to develop their own relationship with God.

Sometimes we come across people who make demands on our time or who seem to want to claim our attention even when we are busy or focussed on something else. Such people can seem immature, selfish, and demanding. If we take a leaf out of Jesus’ book perhaps we can try to see what drives their behaviour and, while not allowing ourselves to be taken advantage of, we can demonstrate patience, compassion and understanding instead of sending them away empty handed.

Outward appearances

July 3, 2021

Pentecost 6 – 2021
Mark 6:1-13
Marian Free

In the name of God who, in Jesus, confronts and shatters our certainties and our prejudices. Amen.

During the week, a memory came back to me that was as vivid as if it occurred yesterday. I was 12 years old and was in the school grounds with a friend. I’m not sure what led to the revelation, but I can clearly remember June leaning into me and whispering: “We’re not supposed to tell anyone, but mum and dad are divorced.” Young as I was, I was shocked – not that her parents were divorced – but that my friend and her family obviously felt that divorce was so socially unacceptable and shameful that it had to be kept a secret. They obviously expected censure at the least and exclusion at the worst if their situation became widely known. I was shocked because I was being raised by parents who were tolerant and worldly and who understood that not everyone was perfect, and that people made mistakes.

The world was a different place in my childhood. I grew up in a culture in which single mothers – whether the victims of rape or not – were considered by society to be morally bankrupt. (That another person was required for a pregnancy to take place seems to have been overlooked.) No fault divorce was a thing of the future, and the shame of divorce was often borne by the wife, who lost social standing, income and even her friends. I belonged to a world that was and is very good at creating unrealistic expectations and condemning those who are unable to meet them.

Sadly, very often the church finds itself embedded in the zeitgeist of the age. In the 1960’s and 70’s women who were divorced were excluded from Mother’s Union (as were single mothers) and divorcees were prevented from re-marrying in the church. It is difficult in these more enlightened times to believe that we, as a society and as church, imagined that a person’s character could be judged by their success (or not) in marriage.

The reality is that we have sometimes been a church that has placed undue attention on outward appearances. Collectively, we have worried what others might think of us, if we welcome those who are clearly less than perfect into our midst.

Outward appearances seem to be at the heart of today’s account of Jesus in his home village. That this is the case is made clearer in the Greek in which the word that is translated “astounded” is better understood as “perplexed” or “perturbed”. Jesus’ neighbours knew his background. He was a worker in stone or wood which not a respectable vocation. To us an artisan is a skilled worker, but in the first century a tradesperson would have to travel to find work. This would mean leaving wife and family at home with no one to defend them or to protect the family’s honour. What his listeners initially took to be wisdom and power were, in their minds simply incompatible with what they knew to be his profession.

If that wasn’t bad enough, there was also the issue of his parentage. Jesus is referred to as the ‘son of Mary’ not as the ‘son of Joseph’ which would have been the norm – think Simon bar Jonah, or the sons of Zebedee. The implication is that Jesus’ father is unknown. His unusual birth, questionable parentage and his dubious profession create doubts around his teaching and his actions . Rather than being impressed by him, Jesus’ fellow villagers are scandalised. Such a disreputable person cannot be trusted, let alone be a prophet or a miracle worker. What would it say about Jesus’ listeners if they allowed themselves to be taken in by someone who did not fit the mould of respectability? How would it look to outsiders if they took pride in him as one of their own?

No wonder Jesus finds it difficult to perform any miracles for them – they have judged him and found him wanting. They have closed their hearts and minds to him and to what he can do for them. Even if it is true that he can heal – who would dare to allow such a disreputable person to heal them? How would they hold their heads up among their friends if they gave any indication that they thought that Jesus had transcended his position or his birth? How could Jesus heal those who reacted with scepticism and who had rejected him?

I wonder how often we close ourselves off from people who have something to teach or to share with us? How often do we judge a person on outward appearances rather than on what they say and do? Do we close our hearts and minds to those who do not fit our image of teacher, healer, or prophet? Are we more likely to reject the life lessons of those whose experiences and/or backgrounds are vastly different from our own? Do we base our reaction to people or ideas based on what those around us might think?

The thing is, as Jesus’ experience in Nazareth reminds us, our rejection of a person’s talents and ideas may say more about ourselves than it does about them. It may reveal our pettiness, our conformity, our small mindedness, or the narrowness of our thinking. We should exercise caution before making judgements, lest, in rejecting someone simply because they don’t conform to our idea of respectability or because we consider their background to be somewhat dubious, we may, to our regret, discover that we have rejected Jesus himself.