Archive for the ‘Matthew’ Category

« Older Entries

Being good or being godly – Joseph takes Mary as wife

December 20, 2025

Advent 4 – 2025

Matthew 1:18-25

Marian Free

With Joseph and Mary, and all the prophets and saints, may we never fear responding to the call of God, no matter how difficult, or outrageous the call. Amen.

Some of you may remember that on Advent 1 I said that being a Christian is not about being good, but about being in relationship. At the time no one challenged me so I’m thinking that we are all on the same page – that we understand that following Christ is the centre of our faith and that goodness flows from that relationship not the other way around. Goodness on its own does not build ties of loyalty, develop a depth of spirituality, encourage submission to the Creator of the universe, or create an understanding that even though we can never be good enough, we are loved and treasured just as we are. 

My view is this: being good does not in itself distinguish a Christian from a non-Christian. Anyone can be good in the conventional sense – by not breaking laws of the state or of the church, by being kind and thoughtful to others and by observing cultural norms. However, I would claim that goodness and godliness are two different things and that godliness does not always equate with goodness – in fact just the opposite. There will be times when being godly (allowing our lives to reflect the presence of God) may require us to be anything but good in the conventional sense. In fact, godliness may demand only that we ignore the norms of the society in which we live, but that we challenge and even overthrow those norms. 

For proof of this view, we need look no further than the example of Jesus, but here in the Christmas narrative are the first signs that responding to and following God does not mean following the crowd. In both Matthew and Luke, the Jesus’ story has barely begun when already we are confronted by the fact that through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus God is turning everything upside down. It is no wonder that the ‘good’ people of the day failed to see what was happening and that God was acting in ways that they hadn’t begun to imagine. 

It would appear from the gospels that the leaders of the day had begun to confuse goodness with godliness, observance of rules with relationship. For example, the Pharisees believed that if only they could get the minute details of the law right, they would be put right with God. The priestly class on the other hand appear to have relied on getting the Temple rituals right as a means of getting close to God. Society as a whole seemed to believe that not rocking the boat would enable them to keep on the right side of the Roman oppressors would. 

To be fair – they might have been misguided but they did believe that they had to put themselves right with God and they did it the only way they knew how – obedience to law and proper observance of ritual. The problem was that though they hoped that God would send a Saviour, they believed that it was their actions that would lead God to act, thus demonstrating that they had totally missed the point. Observance of rituals and law were simply evidence that, at least subconsciously, they believed that their own efforts could force God’s hand– that they, not God, were responsible for their own salvation. 

At the heart of John the Baptist’s message is the refrain: “Repent for the Kingdom of God is near”. The Greek word “metanoia” does not mean “to be sorry”, but “to turn.” Both John, then Jesus are calling the people not to be good, but to turn their lives around, to turn towards God, to live lives that demonstrate a relationship with the living God. From the very beginning faith in Jesus was never about being good, but about being godly, about allowing the divine in us to have full reign – which has nothing to do with goodness as it is usually understood.

Take the story of Joseph – whose first reaction is to separate himself from the pregnant Mary. If we forget the sentimentality that presents Joseph as holy and righteous and selfless and take a look at some hard cold facts, we see a different story. 

Joseph is minding his own business when he learns that Mary – his betrothed – is pregnant. He does not know who the father is only that it is not him.  Can you imagine how that news must have hit him? He knows the baby cannot be his, he presumably wonders if he completely misjudged Mary and he almost certainly feels cuckolded. Did Mary tell him or does he know because of the gossip that is swirling around the village? No matter how he responds his reputation has already been ruined. He will have lost face in the eyes of community. Mary’s shame will not only be his shame but will reflect on his whole family. 

Joseph was within his rights to claim compensation, to expose the situation further – even demand the legal consequences – Mary should be stoned to death. He does none of these things but resolves to quietly free Mary of her obligations to him. This will not diminish the shame but will spare Mary the added consequences of her pregnancy. Already Joseph has shown a casual disregard for the law, but when the angel appears his actions become even more radical. In response to God’s call, Joseph ignores his obligations to his church, his community and his family. He agrees to marry Mary and to raise a child who is not his own one consequence of which will be that the child will inherit and Joseph’s line may come to an end. Not only that, his actions mean that he will lose face in the eyes of his community. 

It is easy to read this as a sentimental story about an honourable man protecting his fiancé, but in the cold, hard light of a first century day, Joseph is both defying the law by not allowing Mary to be stoned to death and breaking convention through his decision to marry her regardless of the shame. But, and here’s the point, Joseph is being obedient to God even though obedience to God means disobedience to religious law, cultural norms and familial obligations.

Joseph chooses fidelity to God over observance of human law; he chooses godliness over goodness, so should we no matter the cost or the shame. 

Tags:, , , , , , ,
Posted in Advent, Matthew | Comments Off on Being good or being godly – Joseph takes Mary as wife

How do we know it’s Jesus?

December 14, 2025

Advent 3 – 2026

Matthew 11:2-11

Marian Free

In the name of God Earth-Maker, Pain-Bearer, Life-Giver. Amen.

 

Recently I have come to understand the appeal of ‘the rapture’ – the idea that Jesus’ return will be accompanied by angels with trumpets and those who are considered worthy will be swept into heaven while the unworthy will be left to face the utter destruction of the world. It occurs to me that believing in the rapture makes everything so easy. When Jesus returns it will be clear that it really is Jesus – angels, trumpets and the raising of the dead will be obvious to all and are definitely not associated with any other expectation. It will it be impossible to miss the rapture (and Jesus’ return). The other advantage of the rapture is that belief in the rapture is that it has the effect of taking away personal responsibility. Somehow the belief itself  builds up confidence in believers that they are among the ones who will be gathered up because they are among the chosen.

According to this the surprise has been taken away. Jesus’ warning that the day will come as a thief in the night is conveniently ignored. The timing of the rapture can apparently be predicted. Those who believe in the rapture do not have to worry about being prepared, because they have prepared themselves simply by being members of  the believing group. (The fact as recently as this year the prediction failed to come to fruition does not seem to worry adherents, they will happily accept the explanations offered for its failure to materialise.)

Another flaw in this belief is that those who believe in the rapture also seem to think that the rapture will occur in a particular place at a particular time and that believers have to be in that place to be gathered up. This would imply that Jesus’ coming at the end of time will not be a universal, but a very limited event OR that those of us who are not in the in crowd will simply  be left behind.

I’ve been thinking about the rapture, not because some people expected it occur in September this year, but because I’ve also been pondering Jesus’ return – how it will happen and how we will know. It seems to me that if it was difficult for people to recognise Jesus in a tiny nation with a relatively small population how much more difficult will it be today when the population has blown out from 170 – 300 million to around 8.26 billion. How would the word spread? How would we know if it really was Jesus if he appeared in a place a long way distant from where we live to a people with a culture very different from ours? If say, people in Mongolia were convinced that Jesus had come among them, what would they need to do to convince the rest of us to believe them?  Even if Jesus came to a city like Brisbane with a population of nearly 3 million, most of us would only hear rumours that someone amazing was making a difference in the lives of the poor and marginalised. It would be easier not to believe that it was Jesus, easier to believe that those making the claims were simply religious fanatics.

For me this has always been a challenging issue.  We are led to expect that when Jesus comes it will be glaringly obvious – angels and trumpets making the announcement so clear that no one will miss it but is that really how it will be?

In today’s world which is surely as rife with injustice, inequality and conflict as that of the first century there are thousands of good, selfless people, risking their lives and living simply in order to bring healing and hope in places of despair and turmoil. In a time of heightened expectation (or despair) anyone of a number of today’s heroes could be named as (or could claim to be) the one sent by God.

So you see I have a great deal of sympathy for John the Baptist. His successful ministry has brought him into conflict with Herod and he is now in prison – a particularly unpleasant place to be in the first century. He will not have known what the future would bring, but it is not surprising that he is questioning his choices, asking himself if he got it right, if Jesus really was the one who was to come. (After all in his time too there were many ‘messianic’ figures.) John had handed his ministry to Jesus but he is not seeing the dramatic changes he might have expected – the nation as a whole has not turned back to God, the Romans continue their oppressive rule and Jesus is not behaving in a way that will bring about radical change. He must have wondered whether he had got it right.

Jesus’ reply echoes the words of God in the Psalms and in Isaiah, in which God’s promise is that the blind will receive their sight, the lame will walk, the lepers will cleansed, the prisoners set free, the deaf will  hear, and the dead will raised. These subtle signs are evidence of God’s presence on earth but they are signs that we might miss. It is much easier as John’s question attests to look for the more dramatic, earth-shattering signs of disruption and the heavenly signs of angels and trumpets.

If we are to know Jesus at his coming, it is essential that we come to know Jesus now, that we open our hearts and lives to his transforming love, that we seek to understand (and practice in our own lives) his preference for the marginalised, and that we are always on the lookout for signs of his presence among us now. If we are really attuned to him now not only will our lives already be lived as if he were here, but we will not fail to meet him when he returns (in glory or not).

 

Tags:, , , ,
Posted in Advent, John the Baptist, Matthew | Comments Off on How do we know it’s Jesus?

Pointing beyond ourselves. Advent 2

December 6, 2025

Advent 2 – 2025

Matthew 3:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to point away from ourselves to God. Amen.

I am the first born in my family, so I have very little experience of what it is to live in someone else’s shadow. No one has ever said to me: “You’re not as clever as or as good as Marian.”  No teacher, guide leader or other adult has ever been able to compare me with a family member who came before me. No one has had unrealistic expectations of me based on what an older sibling achieved before me.  I do know that this is a realty for many younger siblings – always having to live up to some sort of standard set by the eldest, always having their own gifts and talents ignored. It is slightly different if the younger excels more than the elder but differences between siblings tend not to go unnoticed – at least by the siblings themselves.

This week I found myself wondering about John the Baptist, and whether his childhood and youth was overshadowed by that of his cousin, Jesus. John’s calling was predicted before his birth, and it is clear that by the time he was thirty he was living out his vocation and that he had a passion for God that drew a significant following (one sufficiently strong that it continues to this day). It makes you wonder: How did he feel when his younger cousin Jesus came along and started preaching the same message: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near”? 

If Luke’s account is correct John, even though he was the elder by a few months, must have always been overshadowed by Jesus.  You can imagine some of the conversations when he was growing up: “John, it is true that God has given you a role to play, but your role is to support not to outshine Jesus.” “John, I know that your father prophesied many things about you, but remember your task is to point away from yourself to Jesus. You are to prepare the way, but Jesus will be the way.”  “Yes I know that you and Jesus are the same age that he is allowed to drink, but the angel specifically said that you were not to drink wine or strong drink.”

I wonder if there were times when a teenaged John quietly raged against the expectations that were placed on him – even before he was born. I wonder too, if there weren’t times when he was furious that his younger cousin had so much more freedom, possibly even fewer expectations. Were there moments when John thought that it was simply unfair that Jesus, who didn’t even have his priestly heritage, was chosen for the more important role? Were here times when the idea that he had to serve his younger cousin simply rankled? Later, after John had begun his ministry, fired up with a desire to restore the people to their right relationship with God, calling them to turn their lives around, did he feel just a pang of resentment when Jesus came along to steal his thunder, to draw his disciples away from him and to begin a movement of his own? 

From before his birth John was destined to be the forerunner, to always be in Jesus’ shadow. Our scriptures and religious art smooth over any questions John might have had about the clear distinctions between the two but that is not to say that there were not tensions or misunderstandings. After all, prophet or not, John was a real person with real feelings and almost certainly with real failings. To make him a super human is to do him a disservice. It also diminishes his role as a model and guide to those of us who come after.

That John was very much a human being will be made evident in next week’s gospel when, despite his confidence at Jesus’ baptism, John, now in prison, begins to question whether Jesus really is the one who is to come.

In order for us to identify with John we have to see in him characteristics that we can reasonably emulate. 

Whether or not John felt the imbalance between himself and Jesus, it is clear from our gospel accounts that at least once he had begun his ministry John understood that his vocation was to prepare the way. This he does with such grace. Even as the people, including the church leaders, throng to him he resists creating his own movement but points away from himself to Jesus, with whom, he says he is not worthy to be compared. 

John may well have known his destiny from birth, but as we have the story, he was one of those rare people who was willing to allow himself to diminish so that someone else could flourish, he was able to allow someone else take the credit for the movement he had begun, and to allow that person to take his movement forward and in a different direction.

John, as we meet him in scriptures, models what it is to be people who point the way to God and who draw others into faithful relationship with Jesus. He models what it is to proclaim the one who has come and is coming. He encourages us to prepare the way for God – smoothing away the difficulties that prevent people from engaging with the faith and removing the obstacles of bad theology and bad behaviour that turns good people away. He reminds us that if others take the credit for the ground work we have done, we are to rejoice that someone has come to faith and not be resentful that we have not received praise for simply doing what we are called to do. He shows us that instead of drawing attention to our own talents and abilities, we are to encourage and build up others so that they might discover and develop their own gifts and abilities. 

In Advent we the church proclaim the coming of Jesus. May we with John, point away from ourselves so that others might see Jesus, enable others to develop and flourish (even at our own expense) and rejoice when seeds that we have sown take root and grow under someone else’s watchful eye. 

Preparing the way, is never about us but always about the one who is to come.

Tags:, , , , ,
Posted in Advent, John the Baptist, Matthew | Comments Off on Pointing beyond ourselves. Advent 2

Be prepared – Advent 1

November 29, 2025

Advent 1 – 2026

Matthew 24:26-44

Marian Free

In the name of God who always is, Christ who came and who is to come, and the Holy Spirit who enlivens and encourages. Amen.

Advent is one of my favourite times of the year.  Though I have never been particularly efficient at opening Advent Calendars, the sense of anticipation that such calendars engender remains with me to this day.  Calendar or not, every day of Advent brings me closer to the great mystery of the Incarnation – the coming of Emmanuel, God with us. 

Sadly, I have long since given up my habit of separating Advent and Christmas, of keeping the two seasons distinct in my practice and in my mind. The commercial world which fills our stores with Christmas decorations and gifts from September, and which removes all signs of Christmas on Boxing Day makes putting up a tree on Christmas Eve and waiting till January 6 to take it down feel a little bit hollow. Even singing carols on the first Sunday after Christmas can seem somewhat strange when you know that the rest of the world is already preparing for Easter!

Many years ago, I made the decision to stop resisting the tide of change. I no longer try to hold on to traditions that are meaningless to the rest of the world. Nor do I get frustrated that an increasingly secular world has no idea about what Christmas means and that the commercial world has capitalized on the Twelve Days of Christmas by putting them before and not after Christmas. The world may change but nothing can diminish my sense of anticipation and joy as Advent approaches, and I enter once again into the sense of wonder at the birth of Jesus, the mystery of God’s vulnerability and the astounding reality of God’s becoming one of us. 

Given that Christmas celebrates God’s quiet and gentle entry into the world it seems odd that our church year begins and ends with gospel readings that appear to be a series of threats – threats of destructive forces, lawlessness, and. persecution, threats of judgement, of the impending end of the world, and threats that God will catch us unprepared as a thief during the night. We are warned, as we are today, to “keep awake” so that we can catch the thief and not be surprised. These are hardly messages that are designed to fill us with joy and excitement, but rather with terror. They seem designed to keep us on our toes, with one eye watching our back and the other scanning the horizon for danger. The message seems to be: “Be afraid, be very afraid.” Be afraid if not of judgement, but of those terrible events which will precede Jesus’ coming again.

During Advent, these messages are thankfully paired with messages of hope and renewal from the prophets, such as that from Isaiah this morning. God’s coming is associated with putting things straight. This can look like judgement and terror especially to those who resist or deny God, but the prophets assure us that God’s coming is primarily to put the world to right, to bring peace where there is no peace, to make the desert bloom, to give sight to blind, healing to the sick and release to the prisoner and to draw all people to walk in the light of the Lord. In other words, God’s coming will restore the world to that which God intended from the beginning.

What then do we make of the dire warnings that begin at the start of this chapter and which, to be honest, populate the pages of the prophets? 

Themes of destruction and restoration usually arise at times when the nation of Israel is feeling particularly vulnerable and oppressed, or when the people have wandered so far from the faith that it seems that the only possible solution is to begin with a clean slate. This was almost certainly how many people in Palestine at the time of Jesus. It must have seemed that the only way Israel could be restored would be by a dramatic intervention of God who would destroy the forces of Rome, purify Temple practices and bring about healing and peace.  

In reality, as we know, this was not how God responded. 

Today’s gospel is part of Jesus’ response to a question about the signs that will indicate that the end is near. Jesus uses language familiar to the disciples to insist that it is impossible to read the signs. Turmoil in the world is not a sign that God is near, but sign that humanity is flawed and that we live on a fragile planet. Jesus warns that those who want signs are looking for the wrong thing, are asking the wrong question. That they have to ask already indicates their failure to understand. Certainly, they want to be ready, but on their terms. By asking for signs, they reveal that they want to be able to spread out their preparations, they want to be in control. After all this time with Jesus, they have failed to understand that discipleship means giving their lives completely to God, submitting entirely to God’s will and absolutely trusting God with their future. In other words, ceding all control to God.

Scenes of chaos and destruction, images of thieves who catch a home-owner unprepared are a reminder that planning such as the disciples envisage is impossible. No one can go without sleep forever. 

The only plan is to be ready NOW – to admit that our future is in God’s hands, to surrender our lives to God in the present, to trust that whatever life throws at us, God will be with us; and to know in our hearts that if God/Jesus were suddenly to come among us we would not need to be afraid because our hearts would already be God’s, we would already be confident of God’s unconditional love and we would not hide in fear but welcome God with open arms. 

Being ready, being watchful is not the same as being afraid. Being prepared doesn’t mean planning, it means being ready now – knowing that we already beloved, just as we are. It means waiting and watching with quiet anticipation for that time when God will come and when all things including ourselves will be gathered into God’s kingdom.

God has given Godself to us. This Advent let us make sure. That we have given ourselves to God.

Tags:, , , , , , ,
Posted in Advent, Matthew | Comments Off on Be prepared – Advent 1

Following a star – taking risks

January 4, 2025

Epiphany – 2025

Matthew 2:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God, tantalisingly mysterious, and always out of reach. Amen.

“If the wise men gave Jesus gold, why was he poor?” This was a question that my great nephew posed recently. My sister deferred to me for an answer. I confess that I was stumped. In over 50 years of teaching Sunday School and Religious Education and over 30 years of preaching, no one has ever wondered (aloud) what happened to the gifts of the magi. Scholars have pondered over the number of the magi (we know there were three gifts, but not how many magi there were) and have speculated on their role in Matthew’s story. Song writers have given meaning to the gifts and names to three magi, but to date I do not recall anyone wondering what happened to the gifts.  

The magi are exotic and unfamiliar.  They appear only in the account of the birth of Jesus but are never mentioned again.  There are tantalisingly few details to the story. We know almost nothing about these three strangers, where they came from, whether they knew each other before their journey, or why they noticed the star (when no one else appeared to see it). We are not told how they got to Jerusalem, and then to Bethlehem.  Did they travel by foot, by donkey or by camel?  Not knowing from where they came, we do not know whether or where they stopped on the way. We assume they were well off because they have treasure chests, but we have no idea how well off. If they were wealthy, did they arrive with a retinue of servants and if so, were there places in ancient that could accommodate large numbers of important guests?

The magi capture our imagination simply because they are mysterious. They have access to secret knowledge, they not only notice, but they understand the meaning of a new star in the sky, and they are in possession of treasure chests of rare and wonderous gifts – gold, frankincense and myrrh. They appear out of nowhere and then disappear out of view. 

It is only Matthew who mentions the magi and the star, and he tells us only what he wants us to know.  We want to know so much more. Instead of trying to understand Matthew’s purpose in including the magi in the story, we are tempted to focus on the details – the missing details. In art and song, theology and story we have named three of the magi – Caspar, Melchior, Balthasar – have given them countries of origin – Arabia, Persia and India and have built legends around them. Matthew’s expression “magi” (Gk magous), meaning wise man or magician can make us uncomfortable. So based on Old Testament texts like those we’ve read this morning, we are tempted to call them kings. Alternatively, we try to give definition to the notion of “wise men” – suggesting that they were astrologers, philosophers, students of the mysterious, or the intellectuals and scientists of their times. 

The truth is that we do not know any more than Matthew chooses to tell us and Matthew tells us only what he wants us to know. Matthew did not envisage that his magi would delight his readers to the point that they would build myths around them. Matthew’s intention was that the magi, and their visit to the Christ child would (rather like the star) point us to the deeper meaning of their presence in the story. If we focus on why the magi are part of the story, we will see that that they play a number of roles, roles that both inform and challenge our faith.

In no particular order: 

  1. The magi study the scriptures and pay attention to the changes in the world around them. They discern that a change in the heavens suggests that the divine is at work in the world.
  2. The magi are open to God’s action in the world and do not limit their understanding of God to a narrow, formulaic, static vision of the divine. They see the possibility that God might be known in ways they have not yet experienced or thought of. 
  3. The magi have the courage to step out of their comfort zone, to take risks of faith, to follow a sign even though they do not know where it will lead.
  4. The magi pay attention to the voice of the divine communicating through a dream. 
  5. The magi contribute to Matthew’s desire to demonstrate that Jesus is the fulfilment of prophecy; “so it has been written by the prophet” he claims of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem.
  6. The magi introduce Matthew’s intention to defend the inclusion of the Gentiles in the emerging church. (Even though he will have Jesus say to the disciples: “Go only to the lost sheep of Israel.”) In this, the most Jewish of the gospels, Matthew begins and ends with those outside the fold. Here at the beginning, these non-Jewish magi seek Jesus out and pay homage to him. As the gospel concludes Jesus will send the disciples out into every nation.
  7. The magi identify Jesus as the “King of the Jews”, the title which will be given to him by Pilate on the cross. At the same time, their presence sets the scene for conflict. Another king in Palestine, however legitimate, will create divided loyalties, something that cannot be tolerated in Caesar’s Empire.
  8. The magi give to Jesus gifts that are precious and rare (and which may have the deeper meaning that have since been attributed to them.)

Our fascination with these mysterious and wondrous characters is intended to encourage us to delve deeper – not to be distracted by creating legends – filling in the gaps with names, professions and countries. Our task is  to ask ourselves what purpose they serve in Matthew’s account, what they have to tell us today, and how might they challenge our own faith lives.

Do we continually study our scripture so that we might see what we have not yet seen? Have we allowed our image of God to become calcified, limited and unchanging? Has our faith become limited by creed and dogma? Can we allow ourselves to believe that just as the ancient faith of the Israelites expanded to include Gentiles, that God might yet have something new in store for us? Are we willing to take steps into the unknown, confident that God will lead us? When we see Jesus are we overwhelmed with joy?

If we answer “no” to any of those questions perhaps it is time to seek out the star and follow wherever it is that God is leading us.

Tags:, , , , , , ,
Posted in Epiphany, Matthew | Comments Off on Following a star – taking risks

Sheep or goat?

November 25, 2023

Pentecost 26 – 2023

Matthew 25:31-46

Marian Free

 

In the name of God to whom we must one day give an account. Amen.

I am of English heritage and, having grown up in Australia, when I think of  I envisage white (off white) balls of wool with short legs, so I was surprised when on a visit to Israel I saw a Bedouin shepherd leading what I thought was a flock of goats – brown, long ‘hair’, long legs. It turns out that they were in fact sheep – hence shepherd! I have since learnt that there are a number of breeds of sheep that the ignorant (me) mistake for goats. Knowing this adds a whole different layer of meaning to the parable of the sheep and the goats. Most of us approach parable with a visual image of sheep and goats that are easily distinguishable, but this is Palestine where, as I have observed, the sheep look very much like goats (and vice versa). In other words, the externals do not give a clear clue to the nature of the creature.

 

In this parable, all the nations are gathered before the Son of Man who, with a discerning eye, separates them into two groups as a shepherd would separate the sheep from the goats. It is clear from the responses to the judge that, until the shepherd makes the distinction, those gathered do not know into which group they will be placed. The ‘sheep’ do not believe that they have done anything out of the ordinary and the ‘goats’ do not believe that they have omitted to do anything that they could/should have done.

 

It is easy to read this parable with a certain amount of complacency, to be confident that our faith, our behaviour, our ‘goodness’ is a guarantee that we will find ourselves among the sheep. After all, we profess a belief in Jesus, we have done good works throughout our lives, and we have not broken the Ten Commandments. We believe ourselves to be ‘good’ in the sense that we are not bad. We obey the law of the land, we care for our families, we support our church and other community groups and try not to cause harm to others. The problem is (as the parable makes clear) we are no different from the majority of the communities in which we find ourselves – our faith alone does not distinguish us, on the surface we are like any other ‘good’ person, just as likely to be surprised to find ourselves among the goats as those in the parable.

 

If it is not our outward behaviour, what is it that would distinguish us as sheep? If faith in Jesus is not a ‘get out of jail free card’ what is?

 

In the parable what distinguishes the sheep from the goats is they way in which they have treated the hungry, the thirsty, the stronger, the naked, the sick and those in prison. In first century, where a culture of hospitality ruled and in which communities were sufficiently small that one might know one’s neighbour and the conditions under which they lived, it was relatively easy to identify the hungry, thirsty and sick. In a world in which there was no social welfare and in which prisons were hell holes and prisoners were totally reliant on family and friends it was evident who did and who did not need help.

 

In a more complex in a world in which our cities house more people than we could know in several lifetimes, in which prisons provide for at least the basic needs, in which social welfare supports the most vulnerable and in which there is a public health system, the ways

in which we can feed the hungry, heal the sick and visit the prisoner are less obvious. We can pay our taxes so that the state can support the poor and we can give to charities that assist those who fall through the cracks, but face-to-face help is increasingly difficult to give.

 

In this country and in this day and age, I suggest that it is attitude that differentiates the sheep from the goats. The sheep are those who don’t ask how someone got to be poor, an addict or a prisoner, but who see the person (the Christ) in the face of the poor, the hungry, the imprisoned. The sheep are those who give to the deserving and the undeserving alike and who make an effort to understand the forces – external or self-inflicted – that have led to their current situation. The sheep are those who live according to the example that Jesus set and the sheep are those who see the face of Jesus in the face of every person in need.

 

It’s not just what we do, but what we think. It is not just what we don’t do (keeping the law), but what we do do – standing for justice, caring for the more vulnerable – that matters. The Son of Man will judge us according to the state of our heart, the depth of our compassion and the level of our understanding of how people end up where they are, and what drives them to do what they do.

 

Over the past two weeks, I have challenged traditional interpretations of two of Matthew’s parables that are associated with the return of Jesus. In particular I have wondered whether Jesus is to be associated with the bridegroom who locks people out of the wedding, and whether the third slave – labelled lazy and wicked because he buries his talent – is actually the one who most models Jesus’ behaviour. If that has led you to think that we can relax and that there will no judgement, then I am about to disappoint you.

 

I may not think that the door will be locked against the foolish or that the cautious will be cast into outer darkness, but I do believe that there will come a time when we will have to stand before God and answer for our lives – for what we have done and what we have not done for others and, just importantly for what we have thought and how we have justified our lack of action.

 

We may not be thrown into outer darkness, but when we stand before the throne, we will see ourselves as God sees us and that may be punishment enough!

Tags:, , ,
Posted in Matthew | Comments Off on Sheep or goat?

Talents an investment, or exploitation – is the third slave the one most like Jesus?

November 18, 2023

Pentecost 25 – 2023

Matthew 25:14-30

Marian Free

In the name of God to whom we must one day give an account of our lives. Amen.

When you think of God what images come to mind?  Are you drawn to images of a vengeful, harsh, and unforgiving God, or are the first images that come to you of a baby in a manger or a broken body on a cross? Do you subscribe to a God who condemns the foolish and the timid to an eternity of hellfire or to a God, who on the cross forgives someone who will never be able to make redress for his crimes?

These are important questions when it comes to reading the parables of Matthew 25 – the ten virgins and the landowner who entrusted slaves with his (not insignificant) property. Also, at issue in the interpretation of these two passages is how we try to make sense of parables. If we fall into the trap of making them into allegories, we are faced with the task of trying to work out who the various characters in the stories stand for. That is, who do the foolish virgins represent? Who is the slave who buries money? And perhaps most significantly who is the extremely wealthy man who chooses to entrust over 14 million dollars to three of his slaves –   and why would he do that? And why would the landowner distinguish between the slaves, giving one 5 talents, another two and third only one?

There are other questions. Does the parable of the virgins really condone the selfish behaviour of the wise virgins? If the bridegroom represents Jesus, does the one who forgave a criminal from the cross really lock people out forever? And most disturbingly of all is the temptation to associate the landowner with God. If Jesus means us to understand the landowner as God that would mean that Jesus is comparing God: “to a harsh man, who reaps where he does not sow, and gathers where he does not scatter seed” (which is the accusation that the third slave makes and which the master affirms in his reply.) 

Is God then an exploitative businessman, determined to make a profit at whatever the cost to others?

Trying to come up with a literal interpretation of a parable rarely works, because the intention of a parable is not so much to make sense, as to raise questions and to force us to think differently. 

A traditional interpretation of the parable (which relies on a conflation of both Matthew’s and Luke’s retelling) is that the landowner is God, and that we are the slaves who have been given talents (abilities) to use until Jesus’ return. The expectation is that we will put our talents to good use – so that they increase in value or make a contribution to society or to the church.  If we don’t use them, we can expect to be “justly” punished by a demanding and unforgiving God.

There are a number of problems with this version. One is the assumption that the landowner is God, the second is that “talents” refers to gifts and abilities, when in fact it refers to cold, hard cash (and lots of it) and a third is that the last slave deserved his condemnation because he didn’t make the best use of his money. Finally, this interpretation contradicts what Jesus says and how Jesus behaves. Jesus consistently eats with tax- collectors and prostitutes and he informs the self-righteous that sinners will enter the kingdom of heaven before them. Jesus condemns the rich who do not share their riches and applauds the widow who gives her last penny. Throughout his ministry, Jesus lives out the unconditional love of God and on the cross, demonstrates the extent of that love, even for the undeserving. Never, in the course of his ministry does Jesus take advantage of others or use them for his personal gain.

So, I want to put it to you that there is another way to view the parable, a way that gives back to the parable its intention to confront, to shock and to challenge. 

In the first century, a vast number of the population lived on or below the poverty line and that included people with a trade like Paul. The wealthy 1% of the population had made or increased their wealth at the expense of others. Our landowner (and remember he is fictitious). would almost certainly have been given land – land that belonged to others – in recognition of his military service. Instead of using the land to grow staples like wheat that would have fed the local citizens, he would have planted grapes or another crop that he could sell and make a profit. This would leave the population not only impoverished, but also hungry.  This landowner has done sufficiently well that he has something like $14m lying around to invest. 

He entrusts the money to three of his slaves, who in their turn, are free to take some of the profits for themselves – possibly by lending it to the less fortunate and charging exorbitant interest.

What if, in this scenario, the third slave was not in fact lazy or wicked, but rather the only one of the three who had the courage to resist the corruption and greed that had allowed the landowner to amass such a vast amount of wealth? What if, the third slave was making a stand by refusing to be a party to the landowner’s exploitative, oppressive, grasping desire to enrich himself? What if the third slave, the one who risks his own life so that others might live, is the one whose behaviour we are to model, the one whose behaviour is most like that of Jesus? –  who, need I remind you, was himself cast into the outer darkness because he dared to confront the self-seeking, corrupt officials of his own time.

Now, that really does overturn our past ways of thinking. 

What if, in the time between now and Jesus’ return, we were to challenge the unjust systems that benefit the rich at the expense of the poor and which allow 46 million people to live below the poverty line? What if, in the time between now and Jesus’ return, we were to confront the forces that lead to war, persecution, and human rights violations that have led to 108.4 million people being displaced. What if, in the time between now and Jesus’ return, we were to tackle the issue of homelessness and the housing crisis in our own backyard?

What if we, like the third slave, were to resist the temptation to conform, and instead stood against injustice and oppression?

If, just if,  we, and all God’s people, would indeed see what the kingdom of heaven will be like. (Mt. 25:1) 

Tags:, , , ,
Posted in Matthew | Comments Off on Talents an investment, or exploitation – is the third slave the one most like Jesus?

The foolish virgins – is it really about oil?

November 11, 2023

Pentecost 24 – 2023

Matthew 25:1-13

Marian Free

In the name of God to whom we must one day answer. Amen.

It is important to remember that the intention of parables to tease, to disturb, to unsettle, to make us see things differently or to give us new insights. They are not, as I have said many times, meant to be dissected, turned into allegories, or forced to make absolute sense. If we worry too much about detail – won’t it be just as difficult to separate the wheat from the weeds when they are full grown – we are bound to miss the central point – in this case that good and bad exist together, in the world and in each of us.

Today’s parable is no exception. The parable of the locked-out virgins is both disturbing and confusing. It is only natural for us to try to make sense of it – especially as we are given only the bare outline. There is no context and some elements that might help us to make sense of the story are missing. (Because it is not a story.) We are not helped by the fact that the translators translate “parthenos” as “bridesmaids” which immediately gives us a mental picture of a modern day bridesmaid and means that we impose something of our twenty first century idea of weddings on to the scenario.

The Greek word “parthenos” is much better translated “virgins”. Whatever their role, these are young women who are not old enough to be married, and who, in the first century were under the protection of their father. So, the first odd thing to notice is that these young (and presumably vulnerable) girls, were being left alone at night and that apparently so little thought was given to their safety that the bridegroom could delay his return. The parable begins “ten virgins went out to meet the bridegroom.” This implies that he was already on his way. Why did the virgins go out if he wasn’t in fact coming? What delayed him? We are not told. 

Why are the five “foolish” girls told to go the dealers? We know it is midnight and, as other parables affirm, all decent people will have gone to bed, they certainly won’t be touting their wares in the market. If the bridegroom has arrived there is reason why the girls who did bring oil could not share it. Between them they only need enough oil to light the way in – there will be light enough inside. 

We are not even told that the role of the girls was to light the bridegroom’s way. Whatever it was that caused him to be delayed, he and his party would have known it was dark and would have made provision for light.

As I have said, it is not the intention of a parable to make perfect sense. There are no easy answers to the questions that I have raised. Even trying to understand the cultural context doesn’t help. We know very little about first century marriage practices and would only be guessing as to what might happen in rural Palestine.

So, what is the point that the parable is making? What is the lesson that we are meant to take away? What is it that we are to learn from the “foolish” girls’ behaviour – for surely it is in their exclusion from the party – the shut door, the lack of recognition – that the message lies. 

A clue to the parable’s meaning is found in its context within the gospel. At the beginning of the previous chapter the disciples ask Jesus: “What will be the sign of your coming and the end of the age?” The remainder of chapter 24 and most of chapter 25 deal with the question of Jesus’ return – and how the community are to behave in the in-between time. There is an emphasis in these chapters on the fact that no one (not even Jesus) knows exactly when the coming of the Son of Man will be and that, for this reason, it is incumbent on believers to maintain a state of wakefulness so that they are not unprepared. 

In this parable all the girls fell asleep. What did the five foolish girls do, or not do, that led to their exclusion from the party? 

I’d like to hazard a guess. It seems that the “foolish” girls, thought that having light was more important than being around to greet the groom (which, we are told at the start was their one role in this wedding celebration). Further, they apparently had little confidence in the bridegroom’s affection for them (after all they are his guests, if not his family). They seem to have believed that their presence at the party was dependent on their having enough oil. Instead of relying on their relationship with the groom (and presumably with all the other guests), they were determined to be self-sufficient – disappearing into the night, just as he was arriving. 

It is tempting to focus on the closed door and the harsh words of the groom, but the focus should be on the five girls who weren’t there to greet him, who were paying more attention to themselves and their lack of oil rather than on his joy, the girls who wanted to prove that they were self-sufficient rather than rely on the groom’s generosity, the girls who thought that only if they got everything right would they be accepted.  The door may be shut, but perhaps they locked themselves out.

The gospels constantly remind us that we are loved unconditionally and that the tax collectors and prostitutes will enter the kingdom first. Being ready (awake) is not about how much oil we do or do not have, but upon our accepting that we are loved just as we are – with all our imperfections. 

In 2023, it is almost impossible to feel any sense of urgency about Jesus’ return, but from the five foolish girls we can learn that, with or without oil we are loved, that the door is open if we have courage to go in  (however unprepared we feel) and that allowing ourselves to trust in God’s goodness is the best preparation we  can make for Jesus’ coming again. 

Tags:, , ,
Posted in Matthew | Comments Off on The foolish virgins – is it really about oil?

Give to Caesar

October 21, 2023

Pentecost 21 – 2023
Matthew 22:15-33
Marian Free

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

In 2008 a movie, Frost/Nixon, recreated the famous 1977 interview during which aspiring talk show host Peter Frost was able to squeeze from President Nixon a confession that he had engaged in unethical behaviour. Nixon even said: “When the President does it, it’s not illegal.” At that point the President’s minders interrupted the interview, but by then Frost had the upper hand. He progressively pursued his line of questioning and managed to extract a confession that the President had engaged in a cover up. At the conclusion of the interview President Nixon said: “Sometimes you say things that are really in your heart, when you are thinking in advance then you say things that are a terror to the audience. I let down my friends. I let down the country, I let down our system of government all the dreams of those young people that ought to get into government but who will think it’s all too corrupt and the rest. And I have to carry that burden with me for the rest of my life .”

This interview was the making of Frost’s career. A skilled interviewer – Michael Parkinson, Andrew Dent – is able, by lulling the guest into a (false?) sense of security or as in the case of Frost/Nixon through careful background research and dogged questioning, to get the interviewee to reveal something they might otherwise have preferred to have kept to themselves.

Something like this is going on in today’s gospel.

The inclusion of the three previous parables (tenants in the vineyard, the wedding banquet) breaks the flow and makes it difficult to see that our gospel narrative (as I mentioned a couple of weeks ago) is part of a report of the conflict between Jesus and the religious leaders of his day. This is not as simple as it first appears. Judaism, then as now, was not a monolithic religion. Just as today the major world religions are divided into numerous sects so too the Judaism of the first century. The New Testament mentions a number of these groups – the Sadducees who governed the Temple, the Pharisees who, believing the Temple to be corrupt, relied instead on their interpretation of the law, the Zealots, who actively resisted Rome, and the Herodians about whom we know little, but whose name suggests that they supported Rome. Normally these different groups would be in conflict with other, but in the face of a common threat – Jesus – they appear to have joined forces. In this section of the gospel, each group tries in turn tries to trap Jesus in order to embarrass him in front of the crowds or to expose his subversive views so that Rome might be compelled to take action against him.

First of all the Chief Priests and elders ask Jesus a question about authority. What/who gave him the authority to teach, to heal and to chase the money changers from the Temple? Jesus turns the question back to them – “Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” The Chief Priests are unable to answer.

Next it is turn of the Pharisees, who instead of confronting Jesus themselves send their disciples and the Herodians. Given that a direct approach has failed, Jesus’ opponents use flattery as a means to soften him up, to put him off his guard and hopefully to trick him into saying something that he might later regret – something that will either give the Romans an excuse to arrest him or that will diminish his influence over the people.

“Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar?” they ask. Jesus is aware of their strategy. If he says, “yes” they can question his loyalty to God. If he says, “no” he will be seen to be undermining the authority of the Empire. Jesus’ antagonists believe that they have placed him in an impossible position. But this is Jesus whose response is both strategic and theologically sound. By asking for a coin – a denarius – he is able to illustrate his point. The coin was minted by the Empire and bears the emperor’s image. No matter what people might think of the foreign occupation, the coin makes it clear that Palestine is – at present – part of a greater whole. Like it or not, citizens are bound up with the economic system of the Empire. Without the coin they cannot engage in commerce or in day-to-day transactions. Their existence is integrally related to that of the Empire. “Give to Caesar, the things that are Caesar’s,” Jesus says. He deftly avoids making a definitive answer or taking sides – things are never as simple as they seem.

Then Jesus deals with the unspoken question – does “loyalty” to the Empire diminish loyalty to God? Of course not. Paying taxes to Caesar is a consequence of the current state of the world, a world over which God has ultimate control.

Jesus’ response (as the Greek has it) – “the of God to God” – is deliberately vague. Presumably, as God is the creator of all things, then all things are “of God” – even Caesar . We do not have t worry. about the detail. Focusing on minor details, such as the payment of taxes can be a distraction, an excuse not to engage with the overarching reality that ultimately all things are God’s and trying to separate out, to exclude things from God’s oversight becomes (as it was for Jesus’ interrogators) a means of not acknowledging God’s ultimate lordship. To whom we do or not do pay taxes in the present, is of little significance in the light of God’s all-embracing love and power that has existed from before time and will continue beyond time.

For those of us reading these words centuries later, the message is this: Instead of worrying about minutiae, we are asked simply to place ourselves in the hands of the living God, to trust God with our present and our future and to allow the small irritations (like paying taxes) to work themselves out. After all, all things are of God, and we are to give God the things that are God’s – including our very selves.

Tags:, , , ,
Posted in Matthew | Comments Off on Give to Caesar

An undressed guest – an act of resistance?

October 14, 2023

Pentecost 20 – 2023
Matthew 22:1-14
Marian Free

In the name of God who gave us life, Jesus who challenged cultural norms and the Spirit who gives us courage to stand for what is right. Amen.

I have just finished reading the novel All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr. The novel is an account of a number of children whose lives intersect during and after the Second World War. One sub-plot concerns a ‘school’ that trains (increasingly) young boys to join Hitler’s war. It is, as you can imagine a particularly brutal place. The boys are selected according to their Aryan appearance and physical or mental abilities. They are expected to do everything they are asked without question – even when it involves jumping from a great height into the arms of the boys below or beating a fellow student with a rubber hose because he is deemed to be the weakest in the group.

Frederick does not really belong – he is physically small and needs glasses. It appears that his presence at the school has nothing to do with him and everything to do with his father’s position. He is resigned to having no control over his life and we learn that he was only accepted into the school because his mother helped him to learn the eye chart by heart. Frederick has an air of resignation, he does everything required of him and bears, without complaint, the beating he receives for being singled out as the slowest boy in the group.

One winter’s night, all the boys in Frederick’s year group are taken from their beds and made to stand in the courtyard. Snow lies on the ground and the boys are freezing. While they wait, wondering why they are there, an emaciated and ragged prisoner is paraded before them. After the prisoner’s crimes are listed, the boys are a given a bucket of water in turn and ordered to throw it on the prisoner. For fear of the consequences everyone complies. Everyone that is, except Frederick. When it comes to his turn, Frederick empties the bucket on to the ground. He is given another bucket – which he empties and another. “I will not,” he says.

Several nights later his bunk mate, Werner, notices that Frederick is not in his bed. When Werner goes to the infirmary in search of his friend he is confronted by bloodied sheets, but no Frederick. Years later Werner discovers that Frederick had been beaten so badly by his fellow students that he had suffered brain damage and was confined to a wheelchair. The compliant child discovered that there was a point beyond which he would not go. His non-compliance had the most awful consequences.

Resistance is costly as the winner of this year’s Nobel Peace Prize can attest. Narges Mohammidi is an Iranian activist who is serving 30 years in prison as a consequence of her struggle for human rights (democracy, freedom, and equality) in Iran. Not only has she been imprisoned but she is not allowed any contact with her husband or children. Narges is only one of thousands who resist oppression, cruelty and injustice and who pay a terrible price for struggling for justice.

Today’s parable about a king who prepares a wedding banquet, guests who not only offend the king but who offer poor excuses or worse, beat and kill the slaves, a king who retaliates by killing the offenders and razing their city and inviting others (good and bad) to the banquet, and who finally tosses a hapless guest into the outer darkness where there is weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. It is a bloodthirsty, vengeful story worthy of Game of Thrones and tells us nothing of God’s love, goodness, and mercy.

Taken at face value, this parable is notoriously difficult to understand, especially the addition about the guest without a garment. While it is possible to bring some cultural factors into play in our interpretation – refusing a king’s invitation being an attack on the honour of the king and the king’s vengeance a means of restoring that honour – we are still left with a capricious and violent king whose reaction to being slighted appears excessive – both in terms of the reaction to the original guests and the response to the underdressed late comer. It leaves us wondering what the parablecould possibly tell us about the kingdom of God.

Many of us grow up missing the detail of the aggression of the insulted king, but very aware of the ‘rudeness’ of the guest without the appropriate clothes. You, like me might have memories of Sunday School lessons in which a teacher told us with some authority that there was a custom of a host providing wedding dress for the guests. We were led to believe the king (God) was absolutely justified in treating the ‘ungrateful’ guest in the way that he did. The takeaway from the parable was that we should be – be grateful or else!

There are many scholarly attempts to come to terms with this parable, but I was particularly taken with Debie Thomas’ reflection . She questions her/my Sunday School lessons and the attitude that it fosters – the arrogance that believes that the unclothed (not us) deserve a shocking and vicious consequence for their ingratitude. She asks: “do we really believe in a God as petty, vengeful, hotheaded, and thin-skinned as the king in this parable?” (and what does it say of us if we do??)

Debie wonders: “Here’s one possibility: What if the “God” figure in the parable is the one guest who refuses to accept the terms of the tyrannical king? The one guest who decides not to “wear the robe” of forced celebration and coerced hilarity, the one guest whose silent resistance leaves the king himself “speechless,” and brings the whole sham feast to a thundering halt? The one brave guest who decides he’d rather be “bound hand and foot,” and cast into the outer darkness of Gethsemane, Calvary, the cross, and the grave, than accept the authority of a violent, loveless sovereign?”

This is an interpretation that I can live with, one that honours the parable’s intention to shock us out of our complacency into a new and radical way of thinking. The depiction of the heedless, selfish guests, the affronted king and the excessive response becomes a description of the world as it is, and the underdressed guest is the one who resists aggression and who pays the ultimate price for his resistance.

What is our image of God and what price are we prepared to pay in our resistance to a violent and divided world?

Tags:, , , , ,
Posted in Matthew, Parables | Comments Off on An undressed guest – an act of resistance?

« Older Entries