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Not our place to judge

July 22, 2023

Pentecost 8 – 2023
Matthew 13:24-30
Marian Free

In the name of God who loves us as we are. Amen.

Last week the preacher in the parish in which I worship pointed out the number of contrary positions that could be defended with reference to the Bible. Within its pages you can find support for the full inclusion of women in ministry and support for the exclusion of women. From the Bible you can justify both eating meat and an admonition not to eat meat. One can use the Bible to argue that God is a vengeful judge, but equally to demonstrate that God will never execute judgement. People have used the Bible to defend domestic violence and others can point to passages that condemn it. And so the list goes on.

Sadly, the current situation in the world-wide Anglican Church is evidence of the ways in which the Bible can be used to support opposing views and the lengths to which different sides of the debate will go to to protect their stance.

It is possible to say that these contradictions come about because our scriptures were written by humans with human failings – and that would be true. It is equally possible that we hold a faith that is able to hold contradictions in tension, that refuses to be starkly black and white and refuses the sort of dualism that neatly defines good and bad but acknowledges the grey areas that are part and parcel of being human.

Today’s parable goes some way to addressing this situation. A householder sows a field with wheat only to have enemies come in the night and plant weeds in the field. (We are told that the weed is darnel – a plant that is remarkably like wheat, but which is poisonous and which among other things causes hallucinations if eaten.) When the slaves ask if they should pull up the weeds they are astounded that the householder tells them to allow the plants to grow together until harvest – only then he says will the weeds be gathered and burned.

The wheat and the weeds are an illustration of the contradictions of this life. Just as the wheat is almost indistinguishable from the darnel, so too, the difference between good and evil is not always easy to discern. Good intentions can have unintended consequences that lead to harm . Apparently good people can limit the growth of others through criticism and disapproval and most of us contain within us the good and the bad and most of us will spend a lifetime living with the tension.

The good news of this parable is that God can hold the ambiguities and paradoxes of human existence in tension. God does not intend to violently and preemptively reach into our individual and collective lives to destroy all that is bad. God understands that ‘fixing’ one area of our collective and individual lives can cause harm in other areas of our lives. God can see the good that we intend and patiently forgive the harm that we do (to ourselves and others). God recognises that no one is wholly good and that no one is wholly bad and God is prepared to patiently go the distance with us, to support us uncritically as we struggle with the weeds that make up our lives. Finally, it God (not us) who will ensure that that only what is good in us will be gathered into the kingdom.

God our creator is only too aware of our shortcomings. If God can allow the weeds to grow with the wheat perhaps we should learn to be more gentle with ourselves and more forgiving of others. If God can live with the contradictions within and among us, perhaps we should be less willing to define what is right and wrong, good and bad, less sure that we know what exactly it is God wants. If God can withhold judgement until the end, perhaps it is time for us to suspend judgement of others and of ourselves.

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Sowing seeds, heedless of where they will fall

July 15, 2023

Pentecost 7 – 2023 (Thoughts)
Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23
Marian Free

In the name of God who brought all things from nothing. Amen.

A fear that has accompanied (but not dominated) me for most of my faith life is that the church is going to die. It is going to die because we (the churchgoers) do not do enough. To be explicit: apparently we don’t make worship attractive enough, we don’t sing the right hymns, we don’t offer morning tea, we don’t have enough entry points (craft groups, sports associations etc), or we don’t have a drum kit – the list is endless. From my mid-teens on, I have been party to discussions as to what has caused people to leave the church in droves and what it is that we who remain can do to make the church grow.

People of my generation and upwards are worried about church growth (or lack of it) in part because we have come from a place of complacency and privilege, a place in which church was a part of the social fabric of people’s lives. In the 1950’s and 60’s e7uuen those who were not regular attenders had some sort of connection to the church. They were baptised, married, and buried from a church. They were members of the Guild, took part in working bees, made cakes or cooked sausages for fetes and they sent their children to Sunday School. The wider community upheld a belief in the sacredness of Sundays which meant that there was no competition for people’s time on a Sunday morning.

A lot has changed and, tempted as I am to rehearse all those changes, I will leave it to you to revise all the arguments that have been made on the subject during the last 50 years.

Whatever the reason, we cannot argue with the fact that once full churches are sadly depleted. Churches have been closed, some can only afford part-time priests and some parishes have no priest at all but have combined with a neighbouring parish for priestly oversight.

As our numbers have declined, so our obsession with the situation has grown. Yet, for all our navel gazing and problem solving nothing has substantially changed. If anything, the situation has got worse and, with fewer people in our churches, there are fewer people to address the problem – at least if there is a problem.

By that I mean, that what to us is an issue, might not be an issue at all, that our worry might be misplaced and that our time could be better spent. I say this because it occurs to me that our collective response to decreasing congregations says a great deal about us and what it says is not good. Indeed, our anxiety about the state of the church reveals a deep-seated anxiety that without structures and institutions, God’s ability to act in the lives of those around us is impeded and that without churches to proclaim the gospel there will be no way for people to encounter the living God.

In other words, our fixation with the survival of the church exposes a belief that we feel that we are responsible for God’s presence in the world that we have come to think that without us (without the Church), God will somehow sink into oblivion. How could we be so arrogant, so self-assured, to have convinced ourselves that God’s survival depends on us! What an extraordinary idea! Over the centuries we have come to believe that the Church represents God’s presence in the world and therefore, without the Church God’s efficacy will be severely hampered. Somehow, we have come to the conclusion that God needs our help to exist, that God relies on us to such an extent that our keeping the Church alive (in its present state) is an absolute imperative?

I believe that the parable of the Sower speaks to this situation, relieves us of our sense of responsibility and helps to place things in perspective. Often, when we read the parable (and its explanation) we focus on the fate of the seed and worry about the way in which the word is received according to where the seed falls. However, if we focus on the Sower (whom we take to be God), we can see that the parable asks us to place our trust where it belongs – in God and not in ourselves. In the parable the Sower tosses the precious seed with wild abandon heedless of where it will fall. This Sower is not concerned where the seed will land or whether or not it will take root. The Sower is not troubled by such things as permanency, nor is the Sower trying to build something that will last for millennia. The Sower is simply anxious to spread the seed as widely and generously and possible – confident that what does take root will bear fruit.

In all this the Sower does not ask for help – in the sowing, the nurturing or the harvesting. The Sower does not seem to be concerned about locking in a fixed and unchanging future, but rather is confident that something will happen and relaxed as to how it will happen.

I wonder what would happen if we were able to let go of the burden of maintaining our churches – physical and otherwise – open ourselves to God’s careless abandon, and to see in what new ways God is being revealed in the world today.

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Giving cups of water. Who is in and who is out?

July 1, 2023

Pentecost 5 – 2023
Matthew 10:40-42
Marian Free

In the name of God, who reveals Godself to us in many and varied ways. Amen.

If I am honest, I would have to say that these verses from Matthew have always troubled me, partly because I am not entirely sure what the author is getting at and partly because Matthew’s retelling of this saying is so different from the accounts in Mark and Luke.

There are only three verses in today’s gospel, but they are quite complex. What does it mean for example when it says: “whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous?” The implication seems to be that the person doing the welcoming is themselves righteous and even that the one welcoming a prophet, does so at least on behalf of a prophet. If this is the case, Matthew is drawing a line that we do not find in Luke or Mark.

Matthew records these sayings in the context of Jesus’ sending the disciples out into a hostile world in which they risk being handed over to both the religious and civil authorities and in which families will be divided, “brother will (even) handover brother to death.” Jesus has warned the disciples that he has come not to bring peace but a sword and that whoever loves father or mother more than they love him, is not worthy of him.

It seems that in this context Matthew is using these sayings of Jesus to encourage believers to look inward – to protect and support their own. If the world is not a safe place, the believing community will have to pull up the drawbridge to protect themselves and at the same time they will have to ensure that they take care of each other. Certainly, in Matthew’s gospel the expression: “little ones”, used in connection with giving a cup of water, is a Matthean term for members of the community.

Understood in this way, Matthew’s language is inward looking not outward looking.

I don’t have to tell you that the authors of the Synoptic gospels tell the Jesus’ story very differently. Depending on their particular agenda, they arrange the material in a particular way and place their emphases in different places so as to give Jesus’ sayings a nuance that is relevant to their purpose. As I have studied and preached on Matthew over more than two decades, it has seemed to me that the author of Matthew presents the gospel as more exclusive – more inclined to define those who are “in” and those who are “out.”

Of course, we don’t know exactly when Jesus said what or where he was when he said it, but the sayings recorded by Matthew in this setting include two that are unique to him and two that occur in some form in Mark and Luke. Both Luke and Mark have the saying about receiving a disciple and Mark also has the saying about someone giving a cup of water. According to Mark (Chapter 9) the disciples have been arguing about who is the greatest. In response Jesus takes a child and says: “Whoever receives one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever receives me receives not me but the one who sent me” (9:36). Immediately following this, the disciple John complains to Jesus that he saw someone (not a disciple) casting out demons in Jesus’ name. Jesus replies that anyone who is not against them is for them and “whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.”

Mark’s memory or intention is to give the impression of an open community in which whoever acts in a Christ-like way cannot by definition, be against the community of faith, but rather is sympathetic. towards them and as such is entitled to be rewarded. Mark’s context for the sayings is one of chiding – not encouraging – the disciples.

In Luke (Chapter 9), the saying is reported in much the same way as in Mark – that is the first saying is Jesus’ response to an argument as to who is the greatest. Again, Jesus takes a child and says to the disciples: “Whoever welcomes this child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me; for the least among all of you is the greatest.” Again, the complaint about someone casting out demons follows, to which Jesus says: “Whoever is not against you is for you.”
Matthew does include the saying about receiving a child (18:1), but he leaves out the story about the non-disciple casting out demons thus forgoing an opportunity to demonstrate Jesus’ inclusivity, Jesus’ understanding that those who were not signed up members of the community were to be valued, not ostracised, and that those who were sympathetic to the movement were to be treated as if they were members. In other words, Mark and Luke seem to avoid the hard and fast boundaries that are beginning to appear in Matthew’s gospel.

That, I know is a lot to take in, especially when, unlike me, you cannot place the texts side by side. What is important to note is that the gospel writers are quite liberal in the way in which they use Jesus’ sayings, both in the actual wording and in the context in which they place them.

The choice of gospel today and the parallel texts in Mark and Luke provide a good example of the need to see scripture as a whole, rather than focusing solely on one passage. Our scriptures – the Old and New Testaments – were written at different times in history and for entirely different purposes. A close reading will throw up contradictions, multiple versions of one event and differing interpretations of the same. The Bible also contains a variety of forms of expression – history, prophecy, poetry, letters – which need to be read and understood in ways appropriate to their form.

None of this is intended to undermine the value of individual accounts, nor does it give us permission to neglect or dismiss those things that do not fit our idea of what the scriptures say. Studying scripture enables us to understand why differences exist, the contexts in which the differences arose and what they might have meant to those who first heard them. When we study the gospels, we are better able to understand the experience and the needs of the believing communities in the latter years of the first century and to allow that understanding to inform and shape our own practice and ministry.

When we compare the ways in which the Synoptic gospels have recorded the sayings that we heard from Matthew today, we might conclude that they first occurred in a missional context, in which Jesus is telling the disciples, that those who respond positively to them are already on their way to receiving Jesus, and that those who support them (be it simply with a cup of water) will be rewarded – even if they are not card-carrying believers.

Are these words that we need to hear and does it help us to be less anxious that people are not coming to church, and more willing to affirm and encourage the good will that they show and the good that they do?

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God is not ours to control

June 24, 2023

Pentecost 4 – 2023
Matthew 10:24-39
Marian Free

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

How you might wonder does a preacher know what to preach – especially when confronted by such diverse and complex readings as we have before us this morning? It is difficult to pass over the pettiness of Sarah and of Abraham’s willingness to collude with her mean spiritednesses. How can one possibly declare (as we did) that this is the word of God? Paul’ letter to the Romans is rich and complex but again, for the sake of time, this too has to be passed over. My habit, as is the Anglican tradition, has been to focus on the gospel, but today’s gospel – as last week’s – consists of several parts. To give the passage the attention it deserves would warrant longer than we have. So to answer my question – in the first instance I read the set texts (hoping that some idea or theme will leap out). Second, I read what other people have to say – what have they made of these diverse readings? If this fails to produce inspiration I will repeat the process until an idea begins to form. Throughout the process I place myself in God’s hands through prayer and reflection, trusting that the Holy Spirit will and does guide me.

Sometimes I am as surprised as you might be as to where I land.

This week for instance, I was convinced that the gospel provided good material for a sermon on persecution – what it is, and why some who claim to be persecuted are not. A re-reading, however, convinced me that, just as this week’s gospel concluded that begin last week, so the theme of prayer could be addressed through Jesus words to his listeners. (That is to say I saw the gospel in a new light – a light I trust given through the Spirit).

Last week I wondered whether we thought that God had a magic wand with which (if we prayed hard enough, or in the right way) God could answer our prayers. Today’s gospel makes it clear that this is not how God acts. In fact, today’s gospel is shocking and confronting to any of us who have a simplistic, naïve faith. If we believe in a God who is benign at best and a frustrated parent at worst, then Jesus’ words today fill us with disquiet – “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father,and a daughter against her mother.” These words (and indeed those that precede them don’t conform to a picture of a Jesus who is warm, loving and protective. This angry, challenging Jesus makes us want to look the other way, to disassociate ourselves (surely he can’t mean what he is saying!)

Throughout history we have simplified and domesticated our faith. We have smoothed off the rough edges, seen conformity to the norms of society as an indication of our goodness and our moral standing. We associate ‘rocking the boat’ with non-conformist radicals, nothing to do with good upstanding Christian citizens.

We are ill-equipped to hear what Jesus is saying. But Jesus is saying something really important. His confronting language serves as a corrective to all of us who think that we know what God should do and how God should do it. Jesus reminds us that God is not ours to control (through prayer or any other means). He defies our desire that he will bring peace, restore order or conform to our expectations that faith is not costly or that as a consequence of his coming all differences between us will be dissolved. He makes it clear that he cannot change the world without first changing us.

Contrary to what we want to believe, Jesus warns us that faith can be, and often is divisive – because it calls us to stand for justice, to love the unlovable, to welcome the rejected. Our faith might bring us comfort- but Jesus warns that it is just as likely to make us uncomfortable. While he wants to shake us out of our complacency, to remind us that no amount of prayer will force God’s hand, Jesus is also keen to reassure us. We need not be afraid. Even if strife is raging around us and our prayers seem to fall on deaf ears. God knows each one of us – down to the hairs on our head and, even in the midst of our troubles God is with us, supporting and sustaining us.

In the final analysis instead of expecting God to do what we want, we have to trust God. We do not try to bend God to our will or, expect God to do what we think God should do. Through prayer we place ourselves in God’s hands, seek God’s will and rely on God’s strength to face the chaos in which we find ourselves.

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Prayer changes us

June 17, 2023

Pentecost 3 – 2023
Matthew 9:35-10:8
Marian Free

In the name of God whose faith in us is beyond our imagining. Amen.

How and for what do you pray? What do you expect from your prayers? Are you sometimes completely overwhelmed by the needs of the world? Do you sometimes feel that you are inadequate for the task – that even if you did pray hard enough there would not be enough people who cared enough to alleviate suffering? Do you worry that no matter how much you pray some situations simply remain the same? Do you wonder why God does not appear to act?

At the moment many of our prayers are focussed on the peoples of the Ukraine and Sudan, but there are conflicts all over the world that equally deserve our attention and our prayers. When I wonder did you or your church community last pray for the Khmer, the people of Syria or of the Congo or the countless other places still at war? We are rightly focussed on refugees who have fled recent conflicts and especially those who risk drowning at sea, but that means we tend to forget that there are thousands who have lived in refugee camps their entire lives or that in Palestine there are generations of families who have lived in camps. It is the same situation with victims of natural disasters – we simply cannot pray for everyone impacted by fire, flood, cyclone, and our memories tend to focus on more recent events. In 2020, COVID took our attention away from those who had lost everything in the bush fires of January that year and the floods in Northern NSW and elsewhere are, to many of us a distant memory – and yet there are hundreds, if not thousands of people (in this nation alone) who are still trying to rebuild homes and lives.

At the moment those who are impacted by the increased cost of living, rising interest rates and the rental crisis are front and centre in the minds of many of us and yet we are limited in what we can actually do. Our contribution to a Parish Pantry or other charities will not alleviate the pain for one family even for one day, and few of us can afford to purchase accommodation that could be made available for the homeless.

In the face of such mind-numbing issues, it is tempting to wish that God would wave a magic wand, end wars and alleviate poverty and suffering in the world. Yet if that were how God solved problems there would be no need to pray. God would already have responded. Why, in the face of so much anguish does God appear to stand idly by? The answer of course is complex, but God’s apparent inaction reflects God’s faith in us and God’s longing for us to be a part of the solution.

That this is how God responds is reflected in this morning’s gospel, especially in verses 36-38: ‘When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”’

First century Palestine had been under Roman occupation for decades. Land that once fed generations of families had been taken by the occupiers and given as a reward to Caesar’s soldiers. Everything was taxed – the roads, the crops, the right to fish. The church authorities were either Roman appointments or were people who had cow towed to the Romans. As a consequence, the vast majority of the population felt harassed, oppressed and utterly powerless to effect change.

Faced with the suffering and helplessness of the people, Jesus seems to be overwhelmed. You can almost hear him sigh with despair as he observes that they are like sheep without a shepherd. He is filled with compassion. The Greek word “splagnizothai” (compassion) refers to an emotion felt deep within one’s belly, with one’s whole self. In other words, Jesus’ inner being was overwhelmed with concern – but, like God, Jesus doesn’t wave a magic wand. Indeed, he doesn’t even enlist God’s assistance. Instead, what Jesus does is to pray that there might be enough will in enough people to bring about change.

The need is clear, the solution is not to miraculously make it go away but to send people to fill the need – people of compassion – to heal, to console, to challenge unjust structures, to work for peace.

Seen another way, Jesus prays not for the world to change, but for us to change. As long as there are greedy, selfish, power-hungry people in the world there will be wars, injustice, and inequity. As long as people put themselves first we will continue to rape the planet, change the weather patterns, and induce climate change. As long we continue to believe that it is someone else’s (God’s) problem nothing will change.

Mother Teresa said: “I used to believe that prayer changes things, but now I know that prayer changes us and we change things.

In the end, prayer should change us. It should open us to the ways in which we contribute to the ills of the world; reveal to us our selfishness and lack of action; and open us to the Spirit of God working within us.

We are called to be God’s co-conspirators in changing the world for the better.
We are the labourers for whom Jesus prays. Only when we change can we begin to change the world.

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Models of ministry

June 10, 2023

Pentecost 2 -2023
Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26
Marian Free

In the name of Source of all being, Word of Life, Eternal Spirit. Amen.

Have you ever read or tried to read Tolstoy’s War and Peace? From memory, the list of characters extends over two pages. That, and the unfamiliarity of the names, made it impossible for me to read beyond the first chapter. Dicken’s Bleak House was not quite so challenging but, because it was written as a serial, and because there are several sub-plots, I found it difficult to follow the thread of the separate stories and to remember a character whom I hadn’t heard from for four or five chapters.

Thankfully, the gospels do not pose such a problem because the vignettes are short and the primary characters consistent. In today’s gospel, there are several unrelated sub-plots – Jesus encounters several unrelated characters whose stories do not appear to be making a particular point or leading to a conclusion. The passage begins when Jesus sees Matthew and calls him to follow. Jesus then has dinner with tax collectors and sinners and responds to the criticisms of the Pharisees. Then in the paragraph omitted by the lectionary writers (a few characters too many?) Jesus answers a question about fasting that is posed by John’s disciples. In the verses given to us for today, Jesus is approached by the leader of the synagogue and while he is on way to raise the synagogue leader’s daughter, he is touched by the woman with a haemorrhage. Finally, at the house of the synagogue leader, Jesus has to confront the grieving crowds. (Were we to read on we would see that Matthew continues the story with the healing of two blind men and healing a man who was mute.)

In only one of these encounters is Jesus’ identity mentioned – when the blind men call out: “Have mercy on us Son of David.”

The purpose of the stories then, is not to tell us who Jesus is, but more to give an insight into how Jesus is. The encounters tell us about the character of Jesus, how he behaves, with whom he interacts and, to a lesser extent, what he teaches. The reactions to Jesus, the questions of the Pharisees and John’s disciples, and the grief of the crowds. are indicative of the very human responses which Jesus’ actions elicit – criticism, confusion, lack of trust.

Through the eyes of this gospel writer, we are shown that Jesus was a risk-taker. He sees Matthew at the tax booth and says simply: “Follow me.” There is no job-interview, test of character, or referees. Jesus sees in Matthew something that no one else has seen and trusts his intuition that Matthew will make a suitable disciple.

Jesus sets no boundaries on his ministry – who might join him and with whom he might associate. He and his disciples are not discerning about whom they dine with, drawing criticism from the Pharisees (who believe that God insists that Jews keep themselves separate from Gentiles and sinners). In response to their criticism, Jesus uses his knowledge of scripture to firmly correct the narrow, judgmental, and smug attitudes of his critics.

When John’s disciples express their confusion about the differences between Jesus and John, Jesus uses practical, everyday imagery to help them understand that there is a proper time for everything. It is appropriate that John’s disciples fast, but the time has not yet come for Jesus’ disciples to do the same.

Jesus doesn’t hesitate when the synagogue leader asks him to do the impossible, but he is not so focussed on raising the young girl that he cannot stop and give his full attention to the woman with a haemorrhage. Nor is he deterred by the mourners when he reaches his destination but remains focussed on what he has come to do.

The way in which Jesus responds to each of these situations reveals something about the nature of Jesus and of his ministry. Through these encounters Jesus shows us how to be courageous, inclusive, non-judgmental, open, empathetic, unhurried, and life-giving. By the way in which he interacts, he makes it clear that he doesn’t have criteria by which he determines who may or may not be a disciple, with whom he will or will not associate or whom he will or will not heal. He is not cowed by the Pharisees, confused by John’s disciples, or caught off guard when the woman touches his cloak. He will not be bound by social convention, religious expectation, or stereotypical definitions.

From these encounters we can deduce that Jesus is self-assured and confident of his role. He will not be rushed or forced to do anything he does not want to do. So, while we might hold our breath when Jesus stops to attend to the woman with a haemorrhage – instead of hurrying to the already dead girl – Jesus is clear that attending to the person in front of him will not detract from his ministry to the person who awaits him. (He is not so full of his self-importance that he feels he has to ignore the woman to get to the child and his closeness to God enables him to trust that all will be well.)

This lengthy passage, with its variety of scenarios, provides a model of inclusive community and of pastoral care. Jesus demonstrates through his reactions to those whom he meets that no one is to be excluded and no one is to be given priority over anyone else. He makes it clear that ego has no place in ministry and, in stopping to address the woman who has touched him, Jesus proves how important (and life-giving) it is to be fully present to those whom we encounter – rather than worrying about where we have to be and what we have to do.

Jesus’ interactions become a model for our interactions and his character a model for us to aspire to. The responses of the Pharisees (and of John’s disciples) provide a yardstick against which to measure our own reactions especially to those who like Jesus, break cultural norms or religious expectations.

May Jesus always be our model and our guide, and may we with him be open and compassionate, confident and wise, responsive and present, that our interactions with others may be sensitive, respectful and life-giving.

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Trinity Sunday

June 3, 2023

Trinity – 2023
Matthew 28:16-20
Marian Free

In the name of God, creative, generative force, loving, sacrificial being, empowering and energising breath. Amen.

A little while I saw a meme that featured Jesus and the disciples. The first frame, pictured Jesus preparing the disciples for his ascension. Jesus was saying: “Don’t make this too complicated”. In the next frame, after Jesus has ascended the disciples see a group of people coming over the hill. “Oh no”, they say, “here come the theologians!” The creator of the cartoon was implying that theologians complicate simple tenets of faith by analysing and explaining them.

It is easy to imagine that we would be better off without those academics who make meaning out of scriptures, who turn apparently simple texts into complex ideas. The fact is, that without theologians, we would be confronted with a multitude of conflicting ideas and no arbitrators to determine which interpretation was more accurate or more reflective of the teaching of Jesus and its reception by the first believers.

The early church provides two cases in point – the Incarnation and the Trinity – both of which proved controversial in the first few centuries. In the gospels, Jesus is depicted as both human and divine, but there is no detailed argument as to how this works in practice. The most direct claims are those of Jesus in John’s gospel in which Jesus consistently claims that he and the Father are one. In the Synoptics, there are no direct claims that Jesus and the Father are one (Mt. 11:27 being an exception), but in those gospels Jesus shown to have power over demons, over the natural elements and over life itself – powers previously associated only with God. It seems obvious that the gospel writers took for granted. that Jesus was both fully human and fully divine, but they provide no explicit statement to this effect, and give no explanation as to how such a thing could be. It was left to the early church to determine what this meant and how it could be explained. The result was a number of theories about the nature of Jesus and fierce arguments between various bishops and theologians.

Similarly with the Trinity. God as Creator/or Father, Son/Christ/Lord and Spirit is referred to unselfconsciously throughout Paul’s letters and to some extent in the Gospels, but nowhere is there any explanation as to how God can be both three AND one. There is no biblical description of the way in which the three persons of God relate to each other. A Trinitarian God was such a departure from the strict monotheism of Judaism, that there was no language to accommodate a new way of thinking about this same God. The first believers took for granted that God was in some way three persons in one God, but they did not have the appropriate language to defend that belief. It was left to later scholars to find language that honoured the equal value of each member of the Trinity and to describe the relationship between the three – language that often takes away from the relaxed way in which the early community accepted and related to a Trinitarian God.

Interestingly, though the Pauline letters use the language of God, Lord, Christ, and Spirit interchangeably, and though Paul coined prayer: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the communion of the Holy Spirit, the Trinitarian formula with which we are most familiar “Father, Son and Holy Spirit” occurs only in Matthew’s gospel. This is in no small part because the gospels were trying to tell the story of Jesus and to record his teaching – rather than to make meaning. of his life, death, and resurrection.

That said, the conclusion to Matthew’s gospel tells us two things – one, that by the 80s, Trinitarian language was being used as a matter of course and two, that the language of Trinity was an essential component of the baptismal liturgy. In other words, at least by the time Matthew was written, the idea of a three-fold God had solidified into a formula – a formula that was accepted even by this most Jewish of the gospel writers. At the same time this formula was used (without explanation) as an essential part of the liturgy that welcomed new believers into the community.

It seems that the early church did not have to reflect on the nature of the Trinity or on the relationship between the members of the Trinity. Early believers appear to have taken three-fold nature of God for granted – without seeing any contradiction between that belief and their existing belief that God was one.

Perhaps the best attempt to make sense of a three-fold God is the Athanasian Creed, which can be found in the back of your Prayer Book, and which used to be said on Trinity Sunday. “So there is one Father, not three Fathers; one Son, not three Sons; one Holy Ghost, not three Holy Ghosts. And in this Trinity none is afore, or after other; none is greater, or less than another; But the whole three Persons are co-eternal together and co-equal. So that in all things, as is aforesaid, the Unity in Trinity and the Trinity in Unity is to be worshipped. He therefore that will be saved must think thus of the Trinity. For there is one Person of the Father, another of the Son, and another of the Holy Ghost. But the Godhead of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, is all one, the Glory equal, the Majesty co-eternal.)

The Trinitary is first and foremost relational and communal. The persons of the Trinity are non-competitive, inclusive. No one person of the Trinity has priority and no one person of the Trinity is dispensable, but all work together in unity.

The God whom we are called to worship in not a lonely, isolated, all-powerful despot, but a loving community whose roles are both distinct and indistinguishable. The God whom we worship is not a distant and indifferent power but a fellowship that is so concerned with our well-being that God’s very self shared our humanity becoming one of us and one with us. The God whom we worship is not static and unchanging, but dynamic and innovative, dancing through time and space – before time and beyond time.

The God whom we worship invites us into the dance, into communion with Godself and promises to be with us always, to the end of the age.

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Christianity that is bland and unchallenging – a sermon for St George

April 21, 2023

Easter 3 – 2023
(Celebrating St George at Maleny)
Matthew 28:8-15a
Marian Free

In the name of God, Earthmaker, Painbearer, Lifegiver.

How often have you been threatened with death as a consequence of your believing in the risen Christ? In nearly seventy years of life and 27 years in the ordained ministry, I have only been threatened once. It was 1998, Martin Bryant had recently massacred 35 people and injured 18 others. Our then Archbishop, had asked all Parishes to encourage their parishioners to sign a petition calling for gun reform. On the appropriate Sunday, I duly made the announcement – naively thinking that my fellow Christians would have no objections to such a petition. That afternoon, I received a most abusive phone call from a Parishioner who threatened to shoot me if I ever stepped inside his fence. The event left me startled but, so long as I kept my distance, I was not in danger.

It is difficult in our time and place to imagine the Christian faith being so intimidating that the ruling powers would want to destroy it or to persecute, imprison or kill believers, or that our neighbours would shun and harass us. For the most part, Christianity in Australia has been so benign and inoffensive that at least in the last decades few people seem to take much notice of what we do or think. There is little, if anything, to distinguish us from any other member of society. By and large we blend in. Only occasionally do we collectively challenge government policy and even then, I am not sure that anyone thinks we are relevant enough or powerful enough to be a danger to authorities.

As long ago as the fourth century, Constantine made Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire and the church became so entwined with the government and the surrounding culture, that it has been difficult to draw a clear boundary between societal values and Christian values ever since. To be fair, in the intervening centuries the church has had a significant impact in areas related to social justice – the building of hospitals, the abolition of slavery, the improvement of conditions in prisons and universal franchise (at least for non-indigenous women). In this nation, the support of the churches played an important role in ensuring the passage of the 1967 referendum. While some of these actions caused antagonism and disquiet, few unsettled the government or society sufficiently that supporters of these causes were thrown in jail let alone executed.

The situation was very different in the first three centuries of the common era. Then, as often as not, Christians were considered a threat to the well-being and the status quo of the societies in which they found themselves. This should not surprise us. Before there was a church, there was Jesus – a person who presented such a challenge to the political and religious leaders of his day that he was put to death; a person whose influence, and teaching were so radical and unsettling that he had to be silenced; a person who was considered such a risk to the stability of the state, that even his death did not ensure that the establishment felt secure. That is why the authorities posted a guard at Jesus’ tomb and why, when the tomb was found empty, the priests and elders paid the guards to lie.

For the first three hundred years after Jesus’ death, those who believed in Jesus had an uneasy relationship with the communities in which they found themselves. In the worst-case scenarios, they experienced persecution, but by and large this took the form of local, sporadic harassment and exclusion from the social life of the community. State sanctioned persecution occurred briefly under Decian and Valerian, but it was the Emperor Diocletian who was responsible for the most sustained and bloodiest persecution (nine years from 303-312). It was his goal to return Rome to the golden age – a time before novel religions, specifically Christianity, had begun to emerge. Diocletian surrounded himself with opponents of Christianity, tried to purge the army of Christians, rescinded the legal rights of Christians, and tried to force believers to adopt local religious practices.

It was in this environment that George lived. As is the case of many saints, we know little about George and what we do know is shrouded in myth. One tradition has that he was born in the late third century Turkey to a noble Christian family, another that he was born in Greece and moved to Palestine when his father died. We know he did become a soldier and officer in the Roman army. However, when Diocletian demanded that he renounce his Christian faith (along all other members of the army), George refused and, as a consequence, was tortured and decapitated.

Veneration of George was well established by the fifth century, but he really came to prominence during the crusades at which time he became a model of chivalry. In 1350 King Edward III made him the patron saint of England in . According to Ian Mortimer: “St. George stands for the courage to face adversity in order to defend the innocent. The triumph of good over evil, through courage. …The king who adopted him might be almost forgotten today, but for centuries Saint George represented the idea of courageous leadership and, with it, the unifying popular will to be governed well and protected .”

It was not long after Diocletian that Constantine, anxious to unite the Empire under one banner, made Christianity the official faith of the Empire. Since that time, church and state, church and society have become so intertwined, that sometimes it is difficult to draw a clear boundary between culture and faith or to determine which influences which. There have since then been times when the church has been at the forefront of social change, but at least as often, proponents of the faith have been just happy to support the status quo as to challenge it.

Jesus was feared because he sided with and therefore empowered the marginalised and dispossessed, thus threatening the existing power structures. Christians like George were persecuted and killed, because they stood apart from the structures of power that held up the Empire and threatened to undo them.

Those of us who claim to follow in Jesus’ footsteps and who claim George as one of our own, should perhaps ask ourselves why it is that we are not held in awe, why we don’t challenge and unsettle the establishment and why our lives are so bland that we are not in danger of losing them.

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The resurrection – an event without witnesses

April 8, 2023

Easter Day – 2023
Matthew 28:1-8
Marian Free

Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the final scene of Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ, a translucent figure (Jesus) rises from the slab in the tomb and walks out of view. It is a somewhat anti-climatic end to a movie that had been dominated by violence and drama. But how else I wonder, could Gibson have portrayed the resurrection? Unlike the empty tomb, which by all accounts was witnessed by a number of disciples, there were no witnesses to the resurrection. Indeed, on close inspection, the gospel accounts are tantalisingly unhelpful when it comes to details about the actual resurrection. No matter which gospel we read, the story is the same – by the time the women had reached the tomb, Jesus had already risen from the dead and left the (still sealed) tomb, unnoticed by anyone.

If Gibson’s depiction of the resurrection is a little disappointing, so too are the gospel accounts, which are very short on drama and which in fact, do not even mention the actual resurrection. More astounding, according to the gospels, Jesus did not hang around to see if anyone would come. In the briefest account of events, that of Mark, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary find to their surprise that the stone has been rolled away from the tomb (answering their question as to who would move it). A young man seated in the tomb tells them that Jesus has been raised and shows them where he had been lying. Jesus himself does not appear. According to Luke, the women came to the tomb only to find it open, and the body gone. Angels tell the women that Jesus is risen, but Jesus himself does not appear to anyone at all until later in the day. In John’s gospel, Mary Magdalene arrives at the tomb and sees that the stone has been rolled away. She runs to report to the others that Jesus body has been moved. Later, after Peter and John have confirmed that the tomb is empty, Jesus appears to Mary.

Of all the accounts, that of Matthew is the most dramatic. When the two Marys arrive at the tomb an earthquake signals the appearance of an angel who moves the stone to reveal an empty tomb. As in Mark, the angel informs the women Jesus has already risen and shows them where Jesus had lain. Jesus, who is not at the tomb, meets the women as they make their way to report to the disciples that Jesus has risen. The disciples themselves will not see Jesus until they make their way from Jerusalem back to Galilee. Even then, Jesus will not hang around, but having given his disciples their final instructions, he will ascend into heaven.

All we know for certain then is that sometime between the crucifixion and the morning after the Sabbath, Jesus rose from the dead and had left the tomb – leaving the stone in place. In other words, the most extraordinary claim of our faith – resurrection of Jesus – took place without fanfare and without an audience. We don’t know what happened or how it happened. We only know that Jesus’ disciples know that he has risen because he appeared to them – after he had first appeared to the women.

Gibson’s understated depiction of the resurrection is true to the gospel accounts of the event. The resurrection was not, as we might have expected it to be, an earth shattering, ground-breaking event – just the opposite. It occurred quietly and unobtrusively and without a single witness.

What a waste of an opportunity! Imagine the capital that could have been made by a very public, explosive event! Imagine If Jesus had chosen to stay in Jerusalem. Jerusalem was, after all, still filled with the pilgrims that had swelled its population for the Passover. What better place to announce Jesus’ victory over death, his triumph over his enemies? What better occasion to prove his detractors wrong? Why would he not use this opportunity to proclaim that he is indeed the Christ – the one sent by God? Why make the journey to the relative obscurity of Galilee and why, when there, does he only reveal himself to his disciples?

Why indeed? Because this is the whole point of the gospel. As we should know by now, Jesus was not an attention getter. In fact, the story of Jesus’ ministry ends as it began, with Jesus’ absolute refusal to be tempted to behave in any way that would attract acclaim, power, or glory. As with the earthly Jesus, so with the risen Jesus. He does not want to attract followers who are only interested in the hype – the miracles and the extra-ordinary. The risen Jesus, as was the earthly Jesus, is looking for followers who are there for the long haul, who will stick by him through thick and thin – followers who will take up their cross and follow him, followers who will not fall by the wayside when the going gets tough, followers who understand that faith is about relationship with Jesus and with the one true God, not about a life that is shielded from struggle and suffering.

We forget this at our peril.

Faith is not a series of dramatic, life-changing events, but a relationship based on the quiet assurance that Christ is alive and is as present to us as he was to his disciples. This is the message that we have to share – not that an all-powerful God will miraculously free us from all minor irritations and all serious inconveniences, but that God, in the risen Jesus is a constant presence with us – a source of peace, hope and strength. A God who may not prevent our suffering but will come alongside us in our distress. A God who does not seek power, and glory for their own sake, but who was prepared to abandon heaven, to show us how much we are loved.

Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

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What is temptation?

February 25, 2023

Lent 1 – 2023 (Notes)
Matthew 4:1-11
Marian Free

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

I wonder what comes to your mind when you think of sin? I know a number of people who associate sin with breaking one of the Ten Commandments. A phrase that I have often heard is: ‘I don’t need to come to church, I am a good person, I don’t break the Ten Commandments.” When they say this, they are usually referring to the last six of the Ten Commandments – those that refer to murder, lying, adultery, murder, envy, honouring one’s parents and stealing. The problem with this attitude is twofold. Firstly, the these six commandments are relatively easy for most of us to keep. Secondly, they are the ground rules for living together in relative harmony. They are not unique to the Judea-Christian tradition, but are common to most cultures.
It is the first four commandments that are challenging and which people who consider themselves to be ‘good, Christian people’ seem to overlook. ‘I am the Lord your God, you shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself an idol. You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God. Remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy.’ The first four commandments have to do with our relationship with God, the last six, with our relationships with each other. The first four demand an exclusive relationship with the God who brought the Israelites out of Egypt, loyalty to the one true God. The others have to do with our relationships with each other. One could go so far as to argue that it is only the former that have to do with faith. The latter are common sense, practical rules to guide our lives together. (Going to church is not a prerequisite for keeping them.)
Unfortunately, the institution of the church has contributed to this oversimplified view of sin. Many of us grew up in a church culture that emphasised goodness over faithfulness. We were led to believe that God wanted us to behave and not taught that what God really wants is to be in relationship with us. This has led to a trivialisation of ‘sin’; a belief that ‘sin’ is misbehaviour and that earning God’s approval is a matter of being good, keeping the rules. As long as we don’t commit the big ticket crimes, we can assure ourselves that God is happy with us and that all is well with the world.
‘Sin’ properly understood is separation from, or competition with, God. This is clear from the very beginning. The first sin, that of eating the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, was just that – wanting to be like God, wanting to be God. There is only one tree forbidden to Adam and Eve. It is not the tree of life, but the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. As the serpent points out if they eat of the fruit of that tree: “You will not die; or God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:4,5). The first sin, was was not so much simple disobedience, it was the desire to be God, a desire that is played out again when the Hebrew people build the Tower of Babel.
Murder is a crime, lying, stealing and adultery hurt those whom we deceive or rob, envy eats away at us and failure to honour those who gave us life is a particular sort of selfishness, but believing that we can be God, failing to trust God (creating another kind of security net), or looking for quick fixes are the real sins that separate us from God and ultimately from each other.
These are the temptations that Jesus faces in the wilderness. Jesus is not tempted to steal or lie or to commit adultery. There is no little devil on his shoulder suggesting that he have a second helping of chocolate pudding (or some other trivial test of his character or will power). Jesus is being tempted to give in to those parts of his human nature that would destroy his relationship with God – pride, self-sufficiency and a desire for personal power. If he were to change stones into bread – which of course he could do – he would be demonstrating a reliance on himself rather than trust in God. If he were to throw himself off the steeple, he would be revealing that he saw God as a ‘rescuer’, a deliverer of ‘quick fixes’. If he were to bow down and worship the devil, he would be implying that God was not sufficient.
The temptations in the wilderness had nothing to do with our normal understanding of temptation, but with sin in the true sense of the word – separation from, distrust of and competition with God.
The three temptations can be summed up as: Stones into bread – ‘I can do it! (I don’t need God)’, throwing oneself off the cliff – God is only any good, when God performs miracles and, bowing before Satan – real power doesn’t belong to God.
This Lent, when you think again about what you might give up, what temptations your might resist think of the temptations faced by Jesus and ask yourself not whether or not you will be tempted to eat chocolate, but whether, put to the test, you would hold firm in your faith and resist the lure of self-sufficiency, quick fixes and ‘easy’ power.

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