Archive for the ‘Matthew’ Category

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.

Sustaining faith in the mundane

February 17, 2023

Transfiguration – 2023 (some thoughts)
Matthew 17:1-19
Marian Free

In the name of God who sustains us in good times and bad. Amen.

There are a number of expressions that are used to describe the spiritual journey – ‘mountain top experiences’, ‘the desert’ and ‘the dark night of the soul’. Our experience of God is constantly changing. There are times in our spiritual journeys that come close to ecstasy and other times that seem mundane (and even tedious). The great spiritual writers speak both of times of great closeness to God and times of absence or dryness. Somehow, they found ways to sustain their faith even when the presence (or sense) of God was elusive.

Such was not the case for the ancient Israelites, at least as we read the accounts of the escape from Egypt. As Moses led the people through the desert, they constantly complained about God’s failure to provide for them. They looked back on their time of slavery with rose coloured glasses and, when Moses was on the mountain top conversing with God they made a golden calf and worshipped it. It seemed, that, without the constant, physical evidence of the presence of God, they could not maintain their faith in God. Or perhaps it was that their faith in God had not been built on a foundation that could sustain them in times when God’s presence was not blatantly present in signs and wonders.

it is not our place to stand in judgment but we can perhaps think of people among our own acquaintances whose faith seems to be shaken by (to us) the smallest of things, or whose faith is destroyed when tragedy strikes. We might also be able to think of people or faith communities that are always looking for the next high whether in worship or in their daily prayer lives.

‘Mountain top’ experiences or spiritual highs can be addictive. They make the illusive presence of God real and tangible. It is no wonder that we don’t want to let go of such experiences, that we want to make them last as long as possible. We can all relate to Peter and his desire to capture that moment on the mountain-top – “I will make three dwellings here,” he says. For this fisherman, this was almost certainly the most extraordinary experience of his life. It was also proof positive that Jesus was indeed someone special, someone close to, in a deep relationship with God, someone worth following. But even while Peter is still speaking, he is overcome with fear, and when he looks up he sees Jesus alone. The moment has passed.

God’s presence is as terrifying as it is exhilarating and no one can sustain the intensity of that experience. Jesus’ companions, Peter, James and John must return to their everyday lives and find ways to sustain their faith in the midst of the ordinariness, and in their case, the stresses and anxieties of discipleship. (A lesson they must learn again when Jesus leaves them to return to the Father.)

Not all of us are blessed with intense spiritual experiences, but all of us, like Peter must discover tools that support our faith journey in the mundane as well as in the sublime. We must find a bedrock on which to build a strong and solid faith that will not waver in the most testing or the driest of times.

One way to do this is through the discipline of the Daily Office. The Office (from the Latin for ‘work’) – is a unique way to pray. The text (which is based almost entirely on Scripture) is predetermined. This means that no matter what our state of mind, we can say the words on the page (or the ePray app) and, because the form and the words are in front of us, saying the Office helps to keep our thoughts in check. The Office is not the emotional, spur of the moment prayer of pleading or of giving thanks, but a dispassionate form of prayer that takes our own needs and desires out of the equation. We can say the office anywhere and at any time, by ourselves or in company. In a sense however, we never say it alone, because at any one time, there is sure to be someone, somewhere joining with us. The Office, said by lay and ordained members of the Anglican Communion, is a continual prayer – as one person finishes, someone, somewhere begins.

Praying the Daily Office, sustains us in those times when we don’t feel particularly connected to God, when we are anxious or afraid, when we are grief stricken or filled with despair. At such times the structure and discipline provides a sense of stability, order and groundedness.

Mountain top experiences are inspiring and exhilarating but they rarely last. The majority of our spiritual journey will occur during the daily grind of everyday living. We cannot capture and contain the highs which by nature are few and fleeting, but we can be continually sustained and fed through regular and dispassionate prayer.

If this has not been your practice, perhaps you could try the Office as your Lenten discipline. Who knows, you might find that you want to make it a part of your daily routine.

You have heard it said, but I say

February 11, 2023

Epiphany 6 – 2023
Matthew 5:21-37
Marian Free

In the name of God, who sees not only our outward behaviours, but who also knows the state of our hearts. Amen.

“But let’s not fool ourselves; there is a place called hell. It’s the place we create for each other every time we choose an easy and austere legalism over an arduous and radical love.”

As I prepared for this week’s sermon, I was particularly taken by this quote from Debie Thomas’s reflection on today’s passage. Jesus’ teaching and, in particular the way in which Matthew records Jesus’ teaching, has all too often led to a narrow, legalistic and therefore harsh, judgemental and condemnatory understanding of Jesus’ teaching and therefore of God.

A first look at the so-called anti-theses of the Sermon on the Mount would certainly seem to suggest that Jesus is presenting a stricter, tighter view of the law than the contemporary interpretation of it. Six times he says: “I have heard it said, but I say to you.” “You have heard it said: ‘Do not murder,’ but I say to you whoever calls their brother ‘fool’ is liable to the hell of fire.” “You have heard it said: ‘you shall not commit adultery’, but I say to you: ‘whoever looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery in with her in his heart.’” When one considers that Jesus has introduced these verses by saying that he had not come to abolish the law, but to fulfill it, it is possible to mistakenly believe that Jesus’ purpose was to ensure strict adherence to the letter of the law, and to refine the definition of certain laws so that there might be no mistaking what it meant to break the law.

A closer reading of the text (and the gospel as a whole) reveals that Jesus’ intention is just the opposite – that instead of imposing “an easy and austere legalism” he is preaching “an arduous and radical love”. Jesus is not, as it might first appear, insisting that his followers be more righteous than the scribes and the Pharisees. Instead, he is using exaggeration to expose the absurdity of a strict legalistic point of view. Jesus makes it clear that while it is relatively easy to obey the letter of the law, it is almost impossible to truly honour the intention of the law – which is a relationship with God and with each other that is free from pettiness, competition, hatred, selfishness, and all other emotions that come between us. Indirectly then, Jesus is making it clear to the self-righteous, law-abiding citizens of Israel, that it is not the letter of the law, but the spirit of the law that is important. In other words, a superficial observance of the law will not change the heart, nor will it restore broken relationships, demonstrate compassion, show forgiveness or indicate understanding instead, it will lead to judgmentalism and self-righteousness or to self-loathing, fear, and anxiety.

That Jesus is using hyperbole is evident in the phrase with which this section of the Sermon on the Mount concludes: “Be perfect therefore as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Jesus’ listeners would have understood that no one could achieve perfection, let alone compare themselves with God. This would have put all that preceded these words into perspective. They would have realised that if no one can be perfect and in true humility have lowered their expectations of themselves and others – making them less judgemental and more tolerant and forgiving.

That Jesus is critiquing the outward observance of law is evidenced in the next section of the Sermon (which will be read on Ash Wednesday) in which Jesus warns against “practicing piety before others in order to be seen by them” (6:1). That Jesus’ interpretation is expansive rather than restrictive and that he is speaking of “radical love not narrow legalism” is demonstrated through a thorough investigation of this whole argument – not simply of the three anti-theses that we are asked to read today.

There are six anti-theses in all. In each Jesus expands the contemporary interpretation of the law – emphasising generosity of spirit over hardness of heart. If the first four can be misread as Jesus’ tightening legal restrictions, the last two certainly cannot and it is in the light of these (and in what follows), that we must interpret them all. “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. But I say to you Do not resist an evil doer. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile” (5:38-42). “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, ‘Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you’” (5:43-47).

Jesus begins with the 6th commandment: “You shall not murder.” Then, as now, there would have been people who congratulated themselves for keeping the 10 commandments and thought that thereby they had fulfilled the requirements of the law. They would have congratulated themselves because they were not murderers or adulterers, not thinking to ask if at the same time they despised or demeaned other people, or whether they objectified or depersonalised women – faults that are not so blatant to be sure, but which are equally damaging.

It is people such as these whom Jesus is calling to task. He is exposing the fact that keeping the letter of the law is relatively easy, but that we can’t congratulate ourselves for not being murderers when our hearts are filled with hatred or contempt for our fellow human beings. Jesus’ anti-theses are not intended to create a new legalism or to weigh his listeners down with impossible demands. Rather by using hyperbole to make his point, Jesus’ anti-theses shine a light on a narrow interpretation of the law which is limited and limiting, controlling, and damaging –to the perpetrator as well as to the target.

Jesus exposes the limitations of an interpretation of the law which allows people (who have adopted and “easy and austere legalism”) to believe that they have fulfilled the law’s requirements, and which gives them permission to overlook their shortcomings.

Through six ante-theses, Jesus enlarges the understanding of the law, reminding us that perfection is almost certainly beyond our reach. In so doing Jesus saves us from self-reliance, self-satisfaction and pride – which are the real sins that separate each other from God.

“But let’s not fool ourselves; there is a place called hell. It’s the place we create for each other every time we choose an easy and austere legalism over an arduous and radical love.”

The law stands, but its interpretation may not

February 4, 2023

Epiphany 5 – 2023
Matthew 5:13-20
Marian Free

In the name of God, source of all being, word of life and abiding spirit. Amen.

If Jesus had been one of the theological students in the Parish, and you had to write a sermon review on the Sermon on the Mount, what might you have said? If it were me I might have commented that while some of the material was helpful, the sermon was too long, that it consisted of a series of apparently unconnected sayings and that it would have been useful if the sermon had a theme which the preacher introduced, explained and concluded.

The current Pope has had a lot to say about preaching, including his recent off-the cuff comment that homilies at Catholic churches were a “disaster”. He suggested that every sermon be no longer than 8-10 minutes and that they include “a thought, a feeling and an image.” According to these criteria, the Sermon on the Mount does not come up to standard. (It is too long for starters.)

Indeed, if one was to believe that the gospels were real-time accounts of Jesus’ teaching, one would have to imagine Jesus – as one movie of his life depicts him – wandering through Palestine, spouting apparently unconnected lists of sayings. Take chapter 6 for example, “Do not store up treasures on earth, the eye is the lamp of the body, no one can serve two masters, do not worry about tomorrow” and so on. It is difficult to see in what way these sayings are related and to understand why Jesus would simply utter them one after the other without providing any explanation.

In reality, Jesus almost certainly did not speak like this and what we now call the “Sermon on the Mount” was probably no such thing. It is unlikely that Jesus, who appears to have been an excellent teacher, would have thought that making a list of apparently unconnected pronouncements – to a large crowd, from a sitting position – was good pedagogical practice. A more likely scenario (as I have suggested in the Parish Notes) is, that after his death, Jesus’ followers repeated his sayings to each other and to new believers and that over time these sayings were gathered together. Then, when Matthew and Luke wrote their accounts of Jesus, they accessed this material and used it according to their particular narrative purpose.

In the case Matthew, the author has organised Jesus’ sayings into five distinct groups – broadly speaking, the law, mission, parables of the kingdom, instructions for community living and judgement. These so-called discourses are separated by narratives about Jesus’ life, his journeys and healings. Of the discourses, the first and longest collection of sayings – three chapters in all – is centred around a discussion of the law and Jesus’ declaration – found only in Matthew’s gospel that he is the fulfilment of the law.

A closer inspection of Matthew’s “Sermon” reveals that, though the sayings don’t seem to fit one particular theme, there are connections that link groups of sayings together. For example, the Beatitudes lead easily into the sayings about salt and light, the saying about the fulfillment of the law introduces the following section in which Jesus evaluates or refocuses the law. In turn the section on the law concludes with a statement about being perfect which leads into a number of statements about how to interpret the idea of perfection.

The beatitudes, with which the sermon begins are statements of fact, a description of the present situation. “Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.” A consequence of knowing oneself blessed, is that one becomes a blessing for others – for example, the poor become the merciful and so on. In this way, those who are already blessed become a blessing to those around them. The next few verses – about salt and light reinforce this idea.

Both salt and light exist to be useful – to enhance taste and to enable sight in the darkness. For salt to be flavourless or for light to be hidden would be a nonsense – even an impossibility. Jesus is using exaggeration to make his point here, both ideas are utter foolishness. Salt does not lose its flavour and light that is hidden under something goes out (is no longer light). Jesus is commenting (as he does in the beatitudes) on the current state of affairs telling the listeners – “you are salt of the earth”, “you are light of the world.” In other words, as followers of me (Jesus), you cannot help but be light and salt in the world – unless that is, you do something foolish and unthinkable.

Our final verses do not really belong with the blessings and the responsibilities of those who are blessed but rather introduce the next section of sayings in which Jesus corrects some misinterpretations of the law. In case anyone thinks otherwise, Jesus is adamant that while he might critique the law or rather the interpretation of the law, he is not in the business of overthrowing the law – just the opposite. Jesus needs to re-frame the current understanding of the law so that it becomes clear to the world, that he is the fulfillment, the end point, the goal of the law. Jesus’ life and action demonstrates the way in which the law is to be understood as the covenant relationship between God and God’s people.

Through the sayings collected in the Sermon on the Mount, the author of Matthew, makes it clear that the contemporary understanding of the law is flawed at best and misguided at worst. In order to put things right, Jesus has to turn everything upside down – the poor (not the rich) are blessed, those who grieve (not those who are happy) are blessed, storing up treasures on earth does not lead to happiness and so on. Jesus does not abolish the law but restores it to its true meaning and purpose.

The Sermon on the Mount is not a sermon, but its individual parts come together to make a coherent whole that the law stands forever, but that human interpretation of the law, was and probably always will be flawed and inadequate.

Epiphany 5 – 2023

Matthew 5:13-20

Marian Free

In the name of God, source of all being, word of life and abiding spirit. Amen.

If Jesus had been one of the theological students in the Parish, and you had to write a sermon review on the Sermon on the Mount, what might you have said? If it were me I might have commented that while some of the material was helpful, the sermon was too long, that it consisted of a series of apparently unconnected sayings and that it would have been useful if the sermon had a theme which the preacher introduced, explained and concluded.

The current Pope has had a lot to say about preaching, including his recent off-the cuff comment that homilies at Catholic churches were a “disaster”. He suggested that every sermon be no longer than 8-10 minutes and that they include “a thought, a feeling and an image.”  According to these criteria, the Sermon on the Mount does not come up to standard. (It is too long for starters.)

Indeed, if one was to believe that the gospels were real-time accounts of Jesus’ teaching, one would have to imagine Jesus – as one movie of his life depicts him – wandering through Palestine, spouting apparently unconnected lists of sayings. Take chapter 6 for example, “Do not store up treasures on earth, the eye is the lamp of the body, no one can serve two masters, do not worry about tomorrow” and so on. It is difficult to see in what way these sayings are related and to understand why Jesus would simply utter them one after the other without providing any explanation.

In reality, Jesus almost certainly did not speak like this and what we now call the “Sermon on the Mount” was probably no such thing. It is unlikely that Jesus, who appears to have been an excellent teacher, would have thought that making a list of apparently unconnected pronouncements – to a large crowd, from a sitting position – was good pedagogical practice. A more likely scenario (as I have suggested in the Parish Notes) is, that after his death, Jesus’ followers repeated his sayings to each other and to new believers and that over time these sayings were gathered together.[1] Then, when Matthew and Luke wrote their accounts of Jesus, they accessed this material and used it according to their particular narrative purpose.

In the case Matthew, the author has organised Jesus’ sayings into five distinct groups – broadly speaking, the law, mission, parables of the kingdom, instructions for community living and judgement.  These so-called discourses are separated by narratives about Jesus’ life, his journeys and healings.  Of the discourses, the first and longest collection of sayings – three chapters in all – is centred around a discussion of the law and Jesus’ declaration – found only in Matthew’s gospel that he is the fulfilment of the law.

A closer inspection of Matthew’s “Sermon” reveals that, though the sayings don’t seem to fit one particular theme, there are connections that link groups of sayings together. For example, the Beatitudes lead easily into the sayings about salt and light, the saying about the fulfillment of the law introduces the following section in which Jesus evaluates or refocuses the law. In turn the section on the law concludes with a statement about being perfect which leads into a number of statements about how to interpret the idea of perfection.

The beatitudes, with which the sermon begins are statements of fact, a description of the present situation. “Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.” A consequence of knowing oneself blessed, is that one becomes a blessing for others – for example, the poor become the merciful and so on. In this way, those who are already blessed become a blessing to those around them. The next few verses – about salt and light reinforce this idea.

Both salt and light exist to be useful – to enhance taste and to enable sight in the darkness. For salt to be flavourless or for light to be hidden would be a nonsense – even an impossibility. Jesus is using exaggeration to make his point here, both ideas are utter foolishness. Salt does not lose its flavour and light that is hidden under something goes out (is no longer light). Jesus is commenting (as he does in the beatitudes) on the current state of affairs telling the listeners – “you are salt of the earth”, “you are light of the world.” In other words, as followers of me (Jesus), you cannot help but be light and salt in the world – unless that is, you do something foolish and unthinkable.

Our final verses do not really belong with the blessings and the responsibilities of those who are blessed but rather introduce the next section of sayings in which Jesus corrects some misinterpretations of the law. In case anyone thinks otherwise, Jesus is adamant that while he might critique the law or rather the interpretation of the law, he is not in the business of overthrowing the law – just the opposite. Jesus needs to re-frame the current understanding of the law so that it becomes clear to the world, that he is the fulfillment, the end point, the goal of the law. Jesus’ life and action demonstrates the way in which the law is to be understood as the covenant relationship between God and God’s people.

Through the sayings collected in the Sermon on the Mount, the author of Matthew, makes it clear that the contemporary understanding of the law is flawed at best and misguided at worst. In order to put things right, Jesus has to turn everything upside down – the poor (not the rich) are blessed, those who grieve (not those who are happy) are blessed, storing up treasures on earth does not lead to happiness and so on. Jesus does not abolish the law but restores it to its true meaning and purpose.

The Sermon on the Mount is not a sermon, but its individual parts come together to make a coherent whole that the law stands forever, but that human interpretation of the law, was and probably always will be flawed and inadequate.

Epiphany 5 – 2023

Matthew 5:13-20

Marian Free

In the name of God, source of all being, word of life and abiding spirit. Amen.

If Jesus had been one of the theological students in the Parish, and you had to write a sermon review on the Sermon on the Mount, what might you have said? If it were me I might have commented that while some of the material was helpful, the sermon was too long, that it consisted of a series of apparently unconnected sayings and that it would have been useful if the sermon had a theme which the preacher introduced, explained and concluded.

The current Pope has had a lot to say about preaching, including his recent off-the cuff comment that homilies at Catholic churches were a “disaster”. He suggested that every sermon be no longer than 8-10 minutes and that they include “a thought, a feeling and an image.”  According to these criteria, the Sermon on the Mount does not come up to standard. (It is too long for starters.)

Indeed, if one was to believe that the gospels were real-time accounts of Jesus’ teaching, one would have to imagine Jesus – as one movie of his life depicts him – wandering through Palestine, spouting apparently unconnected lists of sayings. Take chapter 6 for example, “Do not store up treasures on earth, the eye is the lamp of the body, no one can serve two masters, do not worry about tomorrow” and so on. It is difficult to see in what way these sayings are related and to understand why Jesus would simply utter them one after the other without providing any explanation.

In reality, Jesus almost certainly did not speak like this and what we now call the “Sermon on the Mount” was probably no such thing. It is unlikely that Jesus, who appears to have been an excellent teacher, would have thought that making a list of apparently unconnected pronouncements – to a large crowd, from a sitting position – was good pedagogical practice. A more likely scenario (as I have suggested in the Parish Notes) is, that after his death, Jesus’ followers repeated his sayings to each other and to new believers and that over time these sayings were gathered together.[1] Then, when Matthew and Luke wrote their accounts of Jesus, they accessed this material and used it according to their particular narrative purpose.

In the case Matthew, the author has organised Jesus’ sayings into five distinct groups – broadly speaking, the law, mission, parables of the kingdom, instructions for community living and judgement.  These so-called discourses are separated by narratives about Jesus’ life, his journeys and healings.  Of the discourses, the first and longest collection of sayings – three chapters in all – is centred around a discussion of the law and Jesus’ declaration – found only in Matthew’s gospel that he is the fulfilment of the law.

A closer inspection of Matthew’s “Sermon” reveals that, though the sayings don’t seem to fit one particular theme, there are connections that link groups of sayings together. For example, the Beatitudes lead easily into the sayings about salt and light, the saying about the fulfillment of the law introduces the following section in which Jesus evaluates or refocuses the law. In turn the section on the law concludes with a statement about being perfect which leads into a number of statements about how to interpret the idea of perfection.

The beatitudes, with which the sermon begins are statements of fact, a description of the present situation. “Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.” A consequence of knowing oneself blessed, is that one becomes a blessing for others – for example, the poor become the merciful and so on. In this way, those who are already blessed become a blessing to those around them. The next few verses – about salt and light reinforce this idea.

Both salt and light exist to be useful – to enhance taste and to enable sight in the darkness. For salt to be flavourless or for light to be hidden would be a nonsense – even an impossibility. Jesus is using exaggeration to make his point here, both ideas are utter foolishness. Salt does not lose its flavour and light that is hidden under something goes out (is no longer light). Jesus is commenting (as he does in the beatitudes) on the current state of affairs telling the listeners – “you are salt of the earth”, “you are light of the world.” In other words, as followers of me (Jesus), you cannot help but be light and salt in the world – unless that is, you do something foolish and unthinkable.

Our final verses do not really belong with the blessings and the responsibilities of those who are blessed but rather introduce the next section of sayings in which Jesus corrects some misinterpretations of the law. In case anyone thinks otherwise, Jesus is adamant that while he might critique the law or rather the interpretation of the law, he is not in the business of overthrowing the law – just the opposite. Jesus needs to re-frame the current understanding of the law so that it becomes clear to the world, that he is the fulfillment, the end point, the goal of the law. Jesus’ life and action demonstrates the way in which the law is to be understood as the covenant relationship between God and God’s people.

Through the sayings collected in the Sermon on the Mount, the author of Matthew, makes it clear that the contemporary understanding of the law is flawed at best and misguided at worst. In order to put things right, Jesus has to turn everything upside down – the poor (not the rich) are blessed, those who grieve (not those who are happy) are blessed, storing up treasures on earth does not lead to happiness and so on. Jesus does not abolish the law but restores it to its true meaning and purpose.

The Sermon on the Mount is not a sermon, but its individual parts come together to make a coherent whole that the law stands forever, but that human interpretation of the law, was and probably always will be flawed and inadequate.

=[1] Scholars have called this material Q (from Quelle meaning Source) however there is no evidence that this was ever a written document.

Blessed are those who know themselves blessed

January 28, 2023

Epiphany 4 – 2023
Matthew 5:1-12
Marian Free

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

“Bless you,” we say when someone sneezes – whether we are a person of faith or not. This habit derives from the 6th century when a sneeze was the first sign that someone had contracted the plague. Pope Gregory introduced the practice in 590 CE and by around 750CE it had become a common practice. At one time in our past, it was even thought that a person’s soul left their body when they sneezed, and that God’s blessing was required to avert such a disaster from occurring. We no longer believe such things, but the habit remains. “Bless you.”

“Bless you,” we say when someone unexpectedly helps us out. In extending a blessing, we are hoping that they will be blessed for their generosity. “Bless you,” we say, as shorthand for ‘God bless you’ when someone sets off on a journey. When we bless a traveler, we do so in the hope that throughout their travels they will be kept safe from harm.

A blessing, offered by one person to another is a short prayer, a wish for the well-being/health of another, a form of thanks, or a request that the one blessed be under God’s protection .

These forms of blessing are very different from the “beatitudes” that we encounter in Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount or Luke’s Sermon on the Plain. “Blessed are the poor in spirit” is not a prayer that the poor might have God’s blessing bestowed on them. It is a statement of fact, a description of a current situation – not a desire for something to happen in the future. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, Blessed are those who grieve” and so on. They don’t read: “God bless the poor”, but inform us that the poor, the grieving are already blessed. They are blessed in the present and at the same time (at least in three of the first four beatitudes) are offered hope for the future.

At first sight this doesn’t make sense. For those who know/have known what it is to count every dollar, who have sent their children off to school without breakfast, who cannot afford basic health care, being poor does not feel like being blessed – just the opposite . On the other hand, being poor does mean that there is nothing left to lose. Jesus is addressing his disciples – not the rich, the establishment or the rulers. Because they have little or nothing, the disciples can afford to give themselves entirely to the Jesus’ project. The kingdom of heaven is already theirs because they have already thrown their lot in with Jesus.

The apparently contradictory statements of the first four beatitudes are intended to help those who can, identify their present state of blessedness, to see what they do have rather than what they do not have. In other words, “Jesus gives to those in need by taking what is negative and planting in them something steadfast: deep inner joy, trusting the promises” (Chelsea Harmon). Hearing these words spoken by Jesus might enable someone to see what they already do have, and more importantly to understand that what God is promising for the future will make the present (however bad) bearable. The grieving are promised comfort, the meek will receive the world, and the hungry for righteousness will receive satisfaction! Jesus’ promises have the effect of changing the present, even if circumstances do not seem to undergo obvious change. To paraphrase Harmon, “there is more than one thing true about any situation. Disciples of Jesus can cling to and build their lives upon the deep hope implanted in them in order to live in the midst of the struggles and difficulties they face in this world.” The present circumstances of Jesus’ disciples might change for the better, but even if they do not, the future that Jesus offers is filled with promise.

Interestingly, after the first four beatitudes, there seems to be a change in direction. The first four beatitudes identify a person’s external situation (poverty, grief, meekness, hunger) as blessed and, without changing the situation, offer hope. The next three appear however to identify blessedness in a person’s internal qualities or in their actions and the “promises” the consequences of being those things: merciful, pure in heart, peacemakers – they will receive mercy, see God or be called children of God.

These apparently different sets of beatitudes are not opposites – one set spoken to the downtrodden (who need hope) and the other to the privileged (who have a responsibility to use their privilege for others). Instead, the latter set of beatitudes elaborates and spells out the consequences of the former. Those who have recognised that they are blessed, with the kingdom of heaven, the promise of comfort, the promise of the earth or the promise of fullness are liberated to stop focusing on themselves and to stop being concerned about their own future. Being freed from self-absorption, they are doubly blessed, because now they can look outwards and share their blessedness with others through showing mercy, being pure in heart and working for peace. Blessedness appears to extend outwards from the one who is blessed to all those who encounter that person.

A final beatitude sums up what it is to follow Jesus – to hold fast to the gospel, to speak truth to power, to maintain one’s integrity in the most difficult circumstances. This last, like the first, is evidence that those who are persecuted on account of Jesus, are, like the poor, already citizens of the kingdom of heaven. The former by their poverty, and the latter through their suffering, are able to fully identity with Jesus and therefore to belong to him and to his kingdom.

The beatitudes are not prayers or blessings, they are statements of fact. Jesus’ disciples, are, by virtue of being Jesus’ followers, already blessed and those blessing have consequences in the present or in the future. Such blessedness cannot be contained but will in turn be a source of blessing for others – salt for the earth, light for the world – as Jesus goes on to say.

We who are blessed, cannot help but be a blessing for others.

Blessed are those who know themselves blessed.

Care for some fishing?

January 21, 2023

Epiphany 3 – 2023
Matthew 4:12-23
Marian Free

In the name of God who sees us as we are, draws us out and uses our gifts for service. Amen.

I wonder what your idea of discipleship is. Is it about bringing others to faith or about living a faithful life? Is it about saving your neighbour from the fires of hell or about creating a life-giving environment in which all might live in peace and joy? Is it about repentance for sin, or about enabling others to change their lives around?

For many, the idea of discipleship has been formed by Jesus’ call of Peter and Andrew, James and John. This morning’s gospel passage appears to be quite clear. When Jesus calls his first disciples (or insists that they come after him), it is so that they will fish for people. Jesus is asking them to join him in his mission in turning the hearts and minds of the Israelites towards God.

We would be mistaken however if we understood that this was the model for all disciples. In the first instance Jesus’ words are contextual. He is speaking to fishermen and therefore uses language with which they would be familiar. It is not language that resonates for those, who like myself, find the imagery of fishing (gathering the unwilling on to a hook or into a net) more than a little distasteful. Nor is it language that really makes sense outside of a first century rural setting.

Only Peter, Andrew, James, and John are called to “fish for people”. Jesus is speaking into their situation, using imagery that they will understand, the language of their own lived experience. In asking these four to come after him, Jesus is making it clear that in calling them to follow him, he will not take them out of their comfort zone or make them do the impossible. They will not have to retrain in order to become disciples. By calling fishermen to fish, Jesus is indicating that he wants them as they are right now. He will not expect them to be what they are not, but will take them as they are and use and build on their existing strengths and skills. He will enable them to use what they already know and to apply those skills to a new situation. The disciples will not be leaving their profession simply changing direction, using their gifts of patience and endurance in a new way.

For those of us brought up on the image of fishing for disciples, it is important to notice that it is only these four who are fishermen who are called by Jesus to fish. Jesus doesn’t say to Matthew the tax collector (Mt 9:2) “I will make you fish for people” and what we know of the other disciples does not lead us to think that he is asking others – non fishermen – to fish. The ways in which other disciples are named, does not tell us anything about their call. to follow. There is a second James who is identified as the son of Alphaeus, a Judas who we are told is the son of James, Simon is alternately known as a Zealot or Cananaean, and Philip we are told, was from Bethsaida.

The call to follow Jesus, to become a disciple is not a generic call. It is not a matter of one size fits all. No one is called to be what they are not. In general, anglers are not called to be great musicians, agriculturalist are not called to be herders and bookworms are not called to be athletes. When Jesus calls us to follow, he calls us to follow as our most authentic selves. Discipleship does not entail becoming what we are not but being whom we truly are. When Jesus calls us to follow, Jesus expects us to use our existing skill sets and strengths – including those we not yet identified or developed.

This means that those who answer the call to follow do not leave behind the gifts and training that they bring with them but build on them but often find themselves doing things, having the skill to do something they never expected to be doing. For example, someone who has had little opportunity for further education, may unlock a talent and a passion for engineering, farming, biblical languages, which they can use to further the kingdom. Another person who has had little experience of working with children or the elderly may discover hitherto unrealized abilities. Whether on the mission field, in Parish ministry, or in one’s day-to-day work, I am sure that there are many others, who, having been called to follow Jesus, have been surprised where it has taken them, and astonished, to see what gifts that call has drawn out. Others yet will continue doing what they have always done, but as disciples will be doing whatever it is more intentionally for the furthering of the kingdom. No matter what, almost certainly Jesus will not be surprised, because Jesus will have seen what we are doing and what we can do, before Jesus issued the call.

Jesus’ call on our lives may not be a universal call to fish for people, to make disciples. Jesus’ call to discipleship will recognise who and what we are now and who and what we can be. If we allow him, Jesus will use our gifts, develop our potential, and give us the courage to trust wherever he may lead.

Embracing humanity

January 7, 2023

Jesus’ Baptism
Matthew 3:13-17
Marian Free

In the name of God who embraces our full humanity and in so doing allows us to embrace our own. Amen.

In a public lecture in 2010 Aidan Kavanagh gave an imaginative description of a fourth century baptism. Full admission to the Christian faith was taken very seriously at that time. Catechumens would have spent four years in preparation, during which time they would have had to leave the church before the Eucharistic prayer as receiving communion was a privilege of initiates. Easter, the time of resurrection was considered to be the most appropriate time for candidates to die to their old, lives and to rise to the new. During the season of Lent the whole church would have joined the baptism candidates in fasting and prayer and the baptisms (full immersion) would have taken place at dawn after the all-night Easter Vigil .

Over the centuries baptism has been understood in a number of ways, has taken various forms and has been regarded with various degrees of rigor. In the New Testament, John’s baptism of repentance was that of full immersion because Jesus ‘comes up from the water’, however there is little evidence that this continued to be the practice of the early community. Apart from the Ethiopian eunuch (Acts 8:26f) no one seems to be asked to meet at a body of water in order to be baptised. Nor, at that time, was there a lengthy period of preparation – those who asked to be baptised were simply baptised. (In fact, some people were not even asked. Think of the guard who takes Peter to his home and who is baptised with all his family – Acts 16:34).

As the church became institutionalised, baptism became the prerogative of the bishop. When the church became sufficiently large that the bishop could not be present in a timely way, baptism was delegated to the deacons. These baptisms were confirmed whenever the bishop came to the town. Apparently by the fourth century baptism was taken very seriously as Kavanagh’s story indicates. Over the centuries however, baptism seems to have taken on a kind of colonising function. The church wanted everyone to be a Christian and in a Christian Empire baptism became the norm. At some stage the theology of original sin ensured that new parents were terrified that children who were not baptised went straight to hell. (This was one way to ensure that the population was ‘Christian’, but it did not require those who, through baptism, joined the faith, had any preparation or any commitment to the faith.)

During the 1970’s there was a movement away from this more cavalier approach to baptism and church membership. Church attendance had slipped and some of the more serious- minded people were concerned that the children whose parents had no connection should not be baptised unless the parents underwent a period of training and began to attend church. Unfortunately, this led to a time of great hurt and confusion as parents who believed that baptism was an important gift that they could give their child felt judged and excluded.

Jesus’ baptism was very different from any of our modern norms, and it raises more questions than it answers. There is no prior evidence of baptism in the traditions and rituals of Israel. So what was John the Baptist doing and how was it understood by those who came to him to be baptised?.) What drove John and why did he feel that the people needed to repent? How did John recognise Jesus as ‘the one more powerful’?

We don’t have conclusive answers to any of these questions and we certainly cannot answer the one that lies at the heart of the account: “Why did Jesus come to be baptised? Surely he did not need to repent.” This is a question that exercises the mind of the author of Matthew. Of all the gospel writers, he and he alone has John question Jesus’ need to be baptised. Matthew’s Jesus responds that he needs to be baptised “to fulfill all righteousness.” However, that raises questions of its own.

Our problem with Jesus’ baptism seems to lie in our need to believe that, as it says in Hebrews, Jesus was ‘without sin.’ A Jesus who was ‘without sin’ would have had no need to repent so the argument goes. This makes Jesus’ baptism some kind of random requirement that God has imposed.

A more useful view is to remind ourselves of Jesus’ full humanity. That is to say, if Jesus was fully human then he must have shared at least some human imperfections. Indeed, the gospels do not gloss over the fact that Jesus gets angry, is afraid and allows the crowds and even the disciples to frustrate him.

Taking this into account, Jesus’ baptism by John is a reminder of Jesus’ full humanity. Jesus didn’t stand outside the human experience as some sort of perfect entity, rather he embraced our condition in its entirety. When Jesus came to John to be baptised he had not yet begun his mission. He was not at that point, Jesus the teacher and miracle worker, but Jesus a peasant from Galilee. Up until this moment, Jesus had done nothing remarkable, nothing that would suggest to those around him that he was anyone special. There was nothing about him that had made him stand out from his peers, nothing that suggested that he was anything out of the ordinary, nothing that had led others to declare him a perfectly, godly human being. (When he preached at Nazareth, he was remembered simply as one of the lads of the village – one who now was putting on airs.) He was thirty years old and had done nothing remarkable.

Seen in this light, it is possible to argue that Jesus came to be baptised because he had reached a point in his life when he was ready to fully submit to God’s will and ready to completely align his life with that of God, to take up the mantle of his call. Jesus “repented” in the true sense of the word – he turned his life around. Jesus’ mission was inaugurated by his voluntary submission to God in baptism and his willingness to allow his life – from that point on to be determined by God – whatever that might mean and wherever it might lead.

Jesus’ fully human baptism reminds us that Jesus is not some superhuman being who cannot identify with our human frailty. Jesus’ ownership of his humanity in baptism gives us permission to embrace our own imperfect humanity. Most importantly Jesus’ complete identification with us in baptism, challenges us to accept and to grow into the divinity that resides within each of us.

It has nothing to do with being respectable

December 17, 2022

Advent 4
Matthew 1:18-25
Marian Free

In the name of God who moves us to act in ways that are surprising and unconventional. Amen.

Jimmy Barnes, the hard-living, drug-abusing, wild-boy of Australian rock, was born James Dixon Swan. He was the child of an unhappy marriage, the son of an abusive alcoholic. When he was still very young, his mother abandoned her six children to escape the abuse. In his autobiography Working Class Boy Jimmy tells of his life as a motherless child growing up in Elizabeth, South Australia. His father was rarely home, leaving the children to fend for themselves. Over time, the house fell into disrepair and niceties – such as sheets on the beds – became a distant memory. Sometimes Jimmy’s father gave his older sister money. She used to buy a sack of potatoes which was often the only food in the house. Left to his own devices grew up wild and on the streets. He first got really drunk when he was only nine or ten.

In the meantime, Jimmy’s mother was struggling to make a living so that she could reconnect with her children. One day the Child Welfare Agency came to her to say that the children were going to be made wards of the state unless she could provide a stable home for them.

She was at a friend’s house, crying, when Reginald Victor Barnes walked in.

“What’s the trouble love?” he asked.
“I need to find a husband and I need to find a home for me six kids and I need to do it quickly or they’ll put them in a home,” she responded.
“Why did you leave them?”
“I had to run away, my husband was a bad drunk.”
“No worries love, I’ll marry ya.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Someone’s got to save those poor kids.”

So, Reg Barnes married Jimmy’s mother and took on – sight unseen – six troubled, delinquent kids.
He provided them with a home, stayed up all night tending to anxious, frightened and sick children and he didn’t walk away no matter how trying and exhausting their behaviour.

As Jimmy says: “Reginald Victor Barnes was to be an angel in my life.”

Reg, Jimmy believes, had planned to be a priest. In order to rescue children he did not know and to save a woman he had just met, Reg exchanged a peaceful, ordered life for one of heartache and chaos. In gratitude, Jimmy took his name – Jimmy Barnes.

This, I imagine is a rare story, especially for a man of Reg’s generation. No doubt Reg’s friends thought he was mad. Taking on another man’s children was one thing, taking on – and fully supporting – six children, damaged and abused by another, was something else altogether.

When we think of the story of the Incarnation, our first thought is of Mary and the risks that she took and the sacrifices she made when she said her courageous: “yes” to God. We are less likely to focus on Joseph – who throughout Jesus’ life is relegated to the background – a shadowy, but necessary figure who gives the earthly Jesus some legitimacy. Joseph is presented as the strong, silent type. He says nothing, but simply acts on messages that come to him in dreams. Joseph’s role in the story is to save Mary from shame and to ensure that Jesus can claim to be of the tribe of David (from whom the anointed one was to descend).

As was the case with Mary, though, Joseph’s obedience came at a cost. If he married Mary, he would bear for the rest of his life the reputation of someone who has been cuckolded. The scandal of Mary’s pregnancy would follow him wherever he went, and he would almost certainly be ridiculed or pitied for taking on another man’s child and having as his heir a child whom he did not father.

We are told tantalizing little about Joseph. He is a righteous man – a man anxious to do what is right before God. A righteous man would know that Mary’s out-of-wedlock pregnancy was contrary to the law and that as such he had no obligation to assist her. He would know too that any association with her would reflect on him, impact on his standing in the community and call into question his knowledge of and adherence to the law. He would have further cause for concern regarding Mary’s insistence that the child she was carrying came from God – an impossible and blasphemous claim which would have been an affront to his faith, and another reason for his family and neighbours to deride and revile him. For Joseph to marry Mary would have lasting effects. Her shame would become his shame. For the rest of his life, he would be subject to rumours and inuendo.

So, being a righteous man, knows that he must dissolve the engagement, but he proposes to do this quietly so as to shield Mary from public scrutiny. (He is presumably confident that her family will protect her and keep her forever from the public eye.)

God has other ideas.

It is perhaps an indication of Joseph’s righteousness (his closeness to God) that he understands that his dream is not a fantasy, but a message from God and that a message from God is not to be ignored, but to be acted on. He accepts, contrary to everything that he knows and believes that marrying Mary was part of God’s plan. Joseph was a law-abiding, righteous man but he was not so hide-bound, not so fixated on doing what was right that he put adherence to the law before the will of God.

Ultimately faith cannot be neatly bundled up as a set of rules and regulations. Faith, as Joseph demonstrates, is a relationship with the living God, who cannot and will not be confined by the limits of human imagination.

What we learn from Joseph is faith has nothing to do with rigid certainties, and everything to do with risk-taking. Righteousness has nothing to with having a good reputation and everything to do with a willingness to be a “fool for God. Pleasing God has nothing to do with observing certain codes of behaviour and everything to do with an openness to where God is leading us and a willingness to take our part in God’s plan.

Being in a relationship with the living God, means being willing to have all our certainties thrown into question, our values turned upside-down. and our lives turned inside out.

God in the small things

December 17, 2022

Advent 3 – 2022
Matthew 11:2-11 (some belated thoughts)
Marian Free

What no eye has seen nor ear heard, the Lord has prepared for those who love him. Amen.

Even though none of us can predict the future, we all have certain expectations. Some expectations are realistic – the sun will rise tomorrow, we will get older rather than younger, we will continue to love our children. Much, however, is beyond our control. We cannot know with any certainty what tomorrow will bring – whether we will still have a job, whether our health will hold, what the weather will do. Even so, because it is difficult to live with uncertainty we make plans, we assume that things will stay the same and that we will be able to determine our futures. For many of us, things work out – if not exactly as expected. We finish our education, get a job, form a relationship, and are generally satisfied with our lot. Others, for reasons that are not always within their control, reach a certain age and find themselves wondering what went wrong, why their life hasn’t worked out as they thought it would. In the worst-case scenarios, some wonder if they have wasted their lives, or if fate has been against them.

This seems to be the situation in which John the Baptist. now finds himself. Having started out confident that he knew what the future held, he now finds himself languishing in prison, wondering if he was right when, certain that God’s promised one would come, he had announced that Jesus was the one. Now he is not so sure. His expectations (whatever they were), have not been met. The Roman oppressors have not been overthrown, the Temple practices are still corrupt and the difference between rich and poor remains the same. Has his life been wasted? Should he have taken a different turn? Did he mistake his role, his place in God’s plan?

Whatever was going on in John’s mind, it is clear that he needed some reassurance, some certainty that he had been on the right track. He sends his disciples to Jesus. to ask whether he really is the one who is to come, or should they be looking for another?

Jesus’ response is interesting. Instead of answering John’s disciples directly, he tells them to look around themselves and to notice that the blind have received their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised and the poor have good news brought to them. In other words, Jesus points out to John that there are signs that God is active in the world in ways that God had not been active before. The signs are subtle to be sure, but they are obvious to anyone who looks carefully. God (through Jesus) is not upending the world, overthrowing the oppressors, demanding complete and total obedience from God’s followers. God is making the sorts of changes in peoples’ lives that allow them to live well under any external circumstances. Jesus is making people whole. He is not filling them with rage and encouraging them to use violence to overthrow the Romans – that would be only a temporary solution. The blind would still be blind, the lepers unclean. People would still be unsatisfied with their lot.

Jesus brings wholeness – not revolution. John’s fiery proclamation was to turn people’s hearts towards God, to enable them to be receptive to the one whom God sent, to be willing to submit themselves to God’s will, rather than to long for God to radically change the world.

We are not told John’s reaction to Jesus’ response, but there is of course a lesson for us in this gospel.

In a world beset by war and terror, the effects of climate change, corruption and inequity, it can be difficult to see the evidence that God is active in the world. We, like John, can be filled with despair and wonder if we have it right. At such times we, like John need to be reminded that God is not to be found in the dramatic, that God does not take sides (which might make things worse rather than better), and that humankind has not, as a whole, turned to God. Jesus wants us to see that none of that means that God is absent from the world or from our lives. God can be found in everyday miracles – new shoots after a fire, a child’s smile, the goodness of strangers, the sacrificial acts of aid workers and more especially in the birth of a child – who contrary to all expectations will change the world.

–>

November 25, 2022

Advent 1 – 2022

Matthew 24:36-44

Marian Free

In the name of God who is always near, and always coming. Amen

Unless the danger is real, it is impossible to live constantly on the edge, or in a heightened state of awareness. After the September 11 attacks for example, we were urged to be constantly alert to any unusual or unattended package or luggage and, for a while, we were “alert, but not alarmed”. Thankfully, there have been no bombs and in Australia, terror attacks were largely averted or limited in their impact. Over time, the messaging stopped and the fear of a terrorist attack no longer felt real.[1] People began to let down their guard, to stop living as if an attack were imminent. More recently of course, we have lived with a constant fear of COVID. Even though that was threat was very real and impacted on every person, few have remained are as cautious as they once were. Even though, in Australia, a fourth wave has hit, the number of people wearing masks is considerably lower than it was six months ago. The danger is real, but the energy to deal with it is missing because, by and large, the community is exhausted by the stress of the last few years. It is  simply impossible to constantly live on a knife’s edge. When the immediate danger has passed, most of us breathe a sigh of relief and go back to the way we were before.

 

This, I imagine, was the situation for which Matthew (indeed all the Synoptics were written). Jesus had suggested that he would return and gather believers to himself and, if further evidence were needed, he had not established any formal structures that would have implied that he expected a community to form, to establish ways of being together and to develop leadership structures. Fifty years after Jesus’ ascension into heaven it was no longer possible to live with the same sense of urgency that might have been expected immediately after

 

No doubt the first generation of believers had lived with an air of anticipation, aware that Jesus might appear at any time and that they must be ready for his return. At the time Matthew was writing, the faith community consisted of third generation believers. Those who knew the earthly Jesus had died and those who now believed had apparently become complacent (as is attested by Matthew’s parables of the bridesmaids and the sheep and the goats.) No one can constantly live on tenterhooks and maintaining a sense of trepidation is increasingly difficult especially in a time when the threat of Jesus’ coming appears  increasingly unreal.

 

One of the tasks of the gospel writers was to find ways to revive the sense of expectation, to confront the apparent complacency of believers and to recall them to their call. This is not, I suspect an attempt to force believers to live in fear, but to encourage them to  live ‘as if’ – as if Jesus were to return, as if Jesus might catch them unawares. It is not so much that the gospel writers desire that believers should live in terror – always wondering if they could meet the standard expected – but more that they are encouraging those who follow Christ to strive to live in such a ways that they would not be ashamed were Jesus to appear in the next minute, the next hour, the next day.

 

The gospel for this morning provides both reminders and incentive.  “Keep awake! For you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.” Life may appear to be going on as it always has – eating and drinking, working in the field, grinding grain, but the simple and mundane things of everyday life should not be allowed to make us complacent. It is not so much that daily life does not continue – of course it does. Nor is it a matter of being always on the edge – worried that Jesus will come and find us wanting. It is a reminder that no matter when Jesus might come it is important that we are not caught sleeping.

 

That does not  mean that we have live in fear, constantly worried about being caught out. Fear is a poor motivation. It sees only judgement and punishment; not welcome and joy. Fear does not lead to growth, it leads us to play it safe, to behave in ways that we believe will please, to become rule bound and rigid – believing that there are ways to be and ways not to be. Fear tempts us to hide our flaws instead of accepting and facing them honestly. Worse, living in fear does not provide the basis for a healthy, and real relationship with God. Fear leaves us anxious and self-conscious, unable to trust in ourselves and in God’s abundant love and forgiveness, and failing to engage with the deep and difficult work of allowing Jesus  to transform our lives, so that we are being formed in the image of Christ.

 

In practical terms then, ‘being ready’ living in a state of expectation means that at all times we are to strive to live our best life, to detach ourselves from the passions and desires of this world,  and to draw ever closer to the God who gave everything for us that in turn we might give our all for God.

 

This Advent, and every Advent is an opportunity to re-examine our lives and to ask ourselves: “Were Christ to come tomorrow, would we want to cling to the things of this world or would we be ready to let go and excited to experience something new? Would we be happy to go out in joy to greet him, or would we want to hide ourselves in shame? Would we have learnt to be comfortable in God’s love or would we still feel we needed to put on a front?”

 

Are you ready and if not, what would it take?

 


[1] I have been surprised therefore, to be hearing the message again now that I am in the UK.