Archive for the ‘Matthew’ Category

Glory and suffering

February 22, 2020

Transfiguration- 2020

Matthew 17:1-9

Marian Free

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

Six days later. It always seems such an odd way to begin a reading. Six days later than when? Why, when the gospel writers have no particular interest in time, is it important to be so exact on this occasion? What happened six days ago (at least in the telling of the story) that was sufficiently important that the readers needed to know the time frame? What is the symbolic meaning of those six days? Unfortunately for those who are curious there are no agreed explanations for the number six (Luke says 8) days. Our best guess is that Matthew and Mark are alluding to the time that Moses spent on the mountain when he received the law. What is clear though is that the gospel writers are drawing our attention to the fact that the events on the mountain are integrally related to and have to be interpreted in the light of what has come before. That is, Jesus’ transfiguration has to be seen and understood against the background of suffering which both precedes and follows the mountain top experience. Earthly and heavenly sit side-by-side. Jesus’ divinity can never be separated from his humanity, his glory cannot be severed from his humiliation.

Six days before Jesus took Peter, James and John with  him to the mountain, Jesus had thrown out a challenge to the disciples. “Who do people say that I am?” he asked. The disciples responded: “John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” Jesus then asked:  “But who do you say that I am?” To which Peter responded: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus commended Peter for his insight but immediately went on to redefine what it meant to be the Christ. It was not, as the disciples seem to expect, a way of glory or might. Being the Christ will not lead to power or to victory over Rome, but to suffering and to death. What is more, Jesus continued, those who wish to follow in his footsteps must prepare themselves for the same fate. “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Jesus’ transfiguration affirms Peter’s declaration that Jesus is the Son of God but the event is framed by suffering – Jesus’ prediction of his own suffering which precedes it and his reference to the suffering of John the Baptist which follows it.

Suffering and glory, ordinary and extraordinary are integrally linked in the gospel. They seem to be two sides of the same coin.

Together they provide an illustration of discipleship which, for the most part, will be mundane and ordinary, which will not protect us from suffering and pain (and in fact will, for some,  be the cause of their suffering and pain) but will give us moments of transcendence, clarity and peace that will provide strength and courage for the journey.

The Bible makes no attempt to suggest that a life of faith will protect us from harm or that doing God’s will will somehow shield us from danger – just the opposite is true. From beginning to end we are shown that placing our trust in God and responding to God’s call on our lives, exposes us to misunderstanding and possible rejection. Discipleship is counter-cultural, it means telling truth to power, standing up for what is right and protecting the poor, the marginalised and the vulnerable. Truth-telling is not always welcomed, mixing with or being inclusive of the outsider is often viewed with suspicion as is lifting them out of places of despair. Discipleship will not always win us friends or respect but sometimes the opposite. The prophets are threatened, exiled and thrown into cisterns. Jesus has only a brief period of being revered by the crowds before he is unceremoniously arrested, flogged and crucified.

Transcendence is only part of the story. The life of discipleship is often mundane and sometimes painful but there will be moments when God breaks through the cloud revealing a different reality and transfiguring our suffering into a future that we had not imagined was possible.

Breaking the vicious cycle of trying and failing

February 15, 2020

Epiphany 6 – 2020

Matthew 5:21-48

Marian Free

In the name of God who desires our wholeness as much as our holiness. Amen.

While I have no desire to be anything other than Christian, I do believe that we can learn a lot from the practices of other faiths. For example, on Friday I learned, from the driver of an Uber, who practices Jainism, that his wife was completing a fast that had lasted 411 days! During that time, she could only eat prescribed foods and then only between certain hours of the day. On some days she could only sip boiled water. As I listened, I felt more than a little chastened. Even though fasting is one of the Christian spiritual disciplines it is not one that I find easy to practice and, to be honest, my Lenten practice could be more costly and embraced more wholeheartedly. Our forty days of Lent do not even compare with the 411 of this woman! I’m not saying that I intend to compete or suggest that we should aim for a similar goal, but I can allow this woman’s practice to throw a light on my own poor efforts to improve the state of my soul and my relationship with God.

When Julie and Maria were employed as my P.A.’s I was able to explore with them some of the practices of Buddhism. One aspect of their practice that I found attractive and useful was the way in which their teaching offered practical techniques in relation say to loving one’s enemies or forgiving someone who had wronged them. More than once, good faithful Christians have said to me, “how can I love a murderer or someone who is an abuser?” or “I feel terrible, but I can never forgive her (or him) for what they’ve done.” The problem is that it is not just that they can’t keep the command to love, but their failure to love or to forgive leaves them feeling guilty and worthless. Sometimes such a person feels that they cannot play a role in the life of the church or worse that they don’t belong in church at all. Tragically, they have heard the biblical teachings but have not been fully equipped to apply in their lives.

As I understand it a major component of Buddhism is the practical instruction or illustration of the teaching – how to forgive, how to love the unlovable. On one occasion I was feeling particularly put upon by someone. I was hurt and angry and probably a little self-righteous. Maria knew the situation (Personal Assistants can serve as a sounding board). Her response was to tell me that Buddhism teaches that we need to ask ourselves what the situation has to teach us. In other words, she turned the tables on my self pity and reminded me that the situation might have something to teach me. (Ouch)

Some Christians, and those who have left the faith, see Christianity as being full of dichotomies – be good, not bad, obey the rules or be punished; don’t do this, don’t do that. It can be easy to hear the church’s teaching or to read the bible in terms of black and white and to miss the grey, to see it as a list of proscriptions rather than than a guide book on how to live, as being more about what not to do than what to do.

The traditional interpretation of today’s gospel contributes to that view – especially if one understands Jesus as strengthening or adding a new list of prohibitions to the pre-existing law. Taken as antitheses – not this, but that; “You have heard it said, but I say” – the set of six teachings appears to put the keeping of the law beyond the reach of anyone.

Moderns scholars argue that this either/or approach is not helpful. They suggest that rather than setting two things in opposition Jesus is offering alternative ways of living or of behaving. Instead of critiquing the law and making its demands even more stringent, they argue that Jesus is providing a way out of the tit for tat that results from an unthinking application of the law. In other words, Jesus is providing practical ways of applying the law that break the cycle – being bad, being punished, being hurt, hurting the other. In these sayings, Jesus demonstrates how this cycle can be broken when those who believe in him take actions that are transformative not retributive, positive not negative. Blind obedience cannot lead to the fulfillment of the law – love of God and love of neighbour.

The first teaching in this set of six is the clearest example of this pattern and the easiest to explain. The traditional teaching is “you shall not kill, and whoever kills shall be liable to judgement”. Jesus continues by pointing out the vicious cycles that lead to murder and therefore to judgement. Being angry with another member of the community would lead to judgment, insulting another would cause them to be brought before the council, calling someone a fool you will be in the hell of fire. But, there is an alternative, a transformative, peace-making initiative[1] – be reconciled, make peace with your accuser before you get to court. There is another ending to the story and it is not judgment.

Jesus offers a positive way to keep the law, a way that breaks the cycle of anger and blame, a way that breaks the cycle of repeating the same mistake again, and again, and again, a way that breaks the cycle of impossible demand that leads to feelings of worthlessness and guilt. He replaces the negative demands of the law with positive solutions that free us to live unencumbered by fear and self-loathing and to grow in our relationship with God and with one another.

 

 

[1] It begins with Jesus quoting the Traditional teaching on murder

  1. You have heard of old that it was said
  2. You shall not kill,
  3. and whoever kills shall be liable to judgement

Then follows

  1. Jesus’ teaching on the vicious cycles that lead to murder and judgement
  2. Being angry – you shall be liable to judgement
  3. uttering ρακα (anger) – you shall be liable to the council
  4. uttering μωρε (you fool) – you shall be liable to hell

Finally Jesus provides

  1. teaching on transformative initiatives that deliver from the vicious cycles
  2. If therefore you remember that someone has something against you, go be reconciled.
  3. Make peace with your accuser if going to court.
  4. Explanation: otherwise you will be liable to judgment. (Glen Stassen)

No room to rest on our laurels

February 8, 2020

Epiphany 5 – 2020

Matthew 5:13-20

Marian Free

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

When we think about The Sermon on the Mount most of us think of Matthew 5:1-12 – the Beatitudes. In fact, the sermon as a whole extends all the way to the end of chapter 7. It consists of a selection of Jesus’ sayings that Matthew has gathered into one place and arranged somewhat thematically. Matthew structures his gospel around five (some say six) such blocks of teaching of which this is the first. The teaching material is separated by narrative material which is linked to what has come before. In this instance Matthew introduces the ‘Sermon’ with an announcement that Jesus teaches and heals. The sermon (teaching) is followed by accounts of Jesus’ healing before Matthew moves to the next collection of teaching material. It is most unlikely that Jesus’ teaching consisted of long lists of unrelated material. A more believable scenario is that during the course of his ministry Jesus taught the disciples and the crowds a variety of things and, after his death, Jesus’ followers collected his sayings (and parables) together and repeated them to each other. In time the material was gathered into collections of sayings which the gospel writers used in their own particular way. The sayings included in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew) and in the Sermon on the Plain and Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem (Luke) are believed to have come from a common source (technically Quelle or Q) that was known to Matthew and Luke but not to Mark.

Though the sayings seem unrelated (today’s being salt, light and law), Matthew appears to have tried to structure them and to gather them into themes. Perhaps the best example of this is chapter 18 that contains sayings that are specifically directed to the community of faith – being careful not to harm another’s faith, how to resolve differences within the community and forgiveness (of other members of the community).

It is generally believed that the community for whom Matthew’s gospel was written was a community of Jews who had come to believe in Jesus and who believed that they were the logical outcome of God’s promises to Israel. That the community still thought of themselves as Jews is implied by the references to “their synagogues” (4:23, 9:35, 10:17, 12:9, 13:54) which suggests “our synagogues”. Only a Jewish Christian would engage so heatedly with the synagogue and would judge Israel so harshly. A Gentile community probably would not feel that there was any need to compete. Further, a primarily Gentile community might have placed more emphasis on the relaxation of the law instead of insisting that, “until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished.”

That Matthew’s community were convinced that they were the true Israel is also hinted at by the gospel writer’s use of the Old Testament and of Rabbinic forms of argument. Most importantly, the belief that the community felt that they were the logical and obvious continuation of Israel is demonstrated by the ‘competition’ with those Jewish communities that did not believe in Jesus and the attitude of one-upmanship concerning the law that we see in today’s gospel: “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and the Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.”

This make-up of the community also explains Matthew’s harsh, legalistic and exclusive stance . Whereas the other gospels and the letters of Paul express some ambivalence or even negativity towards the law, Matthew not only affirms it, but insists that members of his community should both keep the law and keep it even more rigorously than members of the Pharisaic sect with whom they seem to be in competition and whom Matthew accuses of hypocrisy. Matthew’s attacks on the scribes and Pharisees are much stronger than in Mark and Luke (see for example the invective in Chapter 23: “Woe to you scribes and Pharisees! Hypocrites!”). Such sayings suggest a defensiveness on the part of Matthew’s community and a need to protect their legitimacy.

Following on from the Beatitudes, the sayings in today’s gospel appear to be instructions to the community. Those who are blessed are expected to be salt and light; seasoning and illumination for the wider community. They are to live in such a way as to make Jesus present in the world. In other words, Jesus both comforts and reassures, commissions and challenges the disciples. He assures them that they are blessed, but insists that with the blessings comes responsibility. The mission does not end with him but must continue in and through the lives of his disciples – in this case the members of Matthew’s community.

It is possible to soften Matthew’s rigid stance with regard to the law, to argue that Jesus here is referring to fulfilling the law in the sense of bringing to completeness, bringing wholeness to the law. We can argue that in some way the law has come to fullness in the person of Jesus that it is fulfilled, not abolished. It is not done away with, but is transformed. I want to suggest that we should let the saying stand if for no other reason than that this saying challenges us never to slip into the sort of complacency and hypocrisy that Matthew’s Jesus accuses the scribes and Pharisees of, but that we are always striving to build lives that fully represent the desires of God for us as revealed by Jesus.

The blessedness of which Jesus speaks is not an excuse for laziness, but a reason to excel, to strive to be worthy of such blessings and in turn to really be the presence of Christ in the world.

Which kingdom?

January 25, 2020

Epiphany 3 – 2020

Matthew 4:12-23

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us not only to follow but to serve God and serve others. Amen.

 There are a number of benefits to social media, but equally there are a number of downsides. These include bullying, spreading ‘false news’ and creating narratives that do not necessarily reflect the whole picture. This is illustrated to some extent by the content on some of the local sites. There have been a number of break-ins in the area recently and a couple of other nasty situations. Despite information from the police that suggest that the situation is not much worse than previously and that Clayfield and the surrounding suburbs are a safe place to life and/or work; repeated posts on Facebook seem to be creating an atmosphere of fear, which can lead to withdrawal, self-preservation and in turn a lack of compassion.

 It is possible that this was played out in another story that was posted on the same site. It reads: “This morning I witnessed the saddest situation on Seymour road. A young man was laying face down-still on the ground. As I approached in my car I witnessed a couple step over him and continue on their walk…another woman with a dog walk around him, quickening her pace…another gent crossed the road. No one appeared to care.”

Our gospel reading today continues the theme of light that continues through Epiphany. “The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.” Matthew is quoting Isaiah chapter 9. Isaiah is writing in the context of the Assyrian occupation of Israel. He is encouraging the people to maintain their faith in God, reminding them that God will send a king who will defeat the invaders and who will introduce a time of endless peace. Centuries later, Matthew’s audience would have understood that when Isaiah names Zebulun and Naphtali he is referring to the lands promised by God to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the lands that Moses saw and into which Joshua led the people of Israel.

In Jesus’ time the promised dawn must have appeared to be a distant hope. Galilee (Zebulun and Napthali) were once again under the oppressive yoke of a Gentile nation. This time it was the Romans. Occupation by the Romans had had more than a demoralizing effect. Under Caesar’s rule farming land had been usurped and given to others, depriving families of a means of earning an income and dependent on others for work. Exorbitant and crippling taxes resulted in poverty which led to poor diets, poor hygiene and therefore to poor health. Into this situation of despair Jesus came – announcing a very different situation – the kingdom of God – the reign of God that would bring restoration and peace, rather than oppression and devastation.

Jesus has barely appeared on the scene when he insisted that the fishermen, Peter and Andrew, James and John, follow him. These four are to be the first of many – women and men – who will be caught up in in vision of God’s rule and whose lives will be given meaning and purpose where before there was only drudgery and hopeless. It was a radical move, but it may not have been as hard as we think for Peter and Andrew, James and John to drop everything and follow Jesus. Fishing was demanding, exhausting and often unrewarding work. As fishermen they might have had a semblance of independence, but their boats were almost certainly owned by a Roman invader to whom they would have owed a percentage of their catch, more of the catch would have gone to pay taxes for using the roads and for selling the fish. At the end of the day there would have been little left for themselves.

Jesus’ confidence obviously attracted the men and what is more, he has offered them a future, a new role – fishing for people – whatever that might mean. Instead of being caught up in an endless, soul-destroying occupation that brought little to no financial reward, instead of a daily grind that barely sustained their families, the brothers are called to a role in the kingdom that Jesus has come to proclaim. He must have symbolized the hope of a future that, until now, seemed out of reach. He has given the men a purpose, a reason to hope and to dream. They have no hesitation in joining Jesus in announcing the advent of God’s reign.

No sooner has Jesus begun to gather followers than he begins his mission in earnest – not only teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom but curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

The Roman Empire brought destruction poverty and despair. Jesus brought healing and wholeness. The Roman Empire imposed its rule by force. Jesus drew people to him through empathy and concern. The Roman Empire subjugated conquered peoples to its will. Jesus encouraged loyalty through the power of his presence and his word. The Roman Empire quashed opposition through fear. Jesus did not fear competition but encouraged others to join him in his enterprise. The Roman Empire disempowered it subjects. Jesus gave to his followers meaning and purpose.

The Roman Empire was dominated by fear. Jesus modelled a kingdom governed by compassion. The Roman Empire built walls of self-interest, self-preservation and disdain to isolate themselves from the suffering of the conquered, the poor and the disenfranchised. Jesus opened himself to the misery and pain of the outcast, the marginalised and the oppressed.

The Roman Empire is a distant memory, but we who are followers of Jesus continue to exist in two dimensions – the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the world. How we respond to threats and how we react to those who are do not fit the norm are a reflection of the kingdom in which we feel most at home. Perhaps we need to ask ourselves whether we are beginning to pull up the drawbridge to keep ourselves safe or whether Jesus’ love and compassion continues to determine our reaction to others and to the world around us.

In solidarity with all humanity

January 11, 2020

Baptism of our Lord – 2020

Matthew 3:13-17

Marian Free

In the name of God, who in Jesus became fully human and identified fully with the human plight. Amen.

On page 126 of A Prayer Book for Australia you will find the confession and absolution, a form of which is also to be found on page 120. It is possible that (unlike me) you never pay attention to the words in red print (the rubrics as they are known). The rubrics provide information not only about the Liturgy, but about such variations as are permitted. Since 1978, instead of a long, threatening and terrifying exhortation to confession, the Prayer Book has offered an invitation (which changes according to the season). For the most part the Liturgical Assistant reads, “God is steadfast in love and infinite in mercy, welcoming sinners to the Lord’s Table. Let us confess our sins in penitence and faith, confident in God’s forgiveness.”

Those of you who do read the rubrics will notice that there is a suggestion that “silence may be observed”. The observant among you will also have noticed that in this Parish, we do not observe any such silence. I cannot be sure, but I imagine that the reason that silence is suggested is to allow for a moment of personal reflection. Certainly, that is how it seems to be observed in other Parishes. During my time at St Augustine’s we have not observed this practice. The reason for this not that I think that I, or we, have no need to reflect on our sinfulness, but because I do not believe that this is the place for individual introspection.

When we gather together for worship we do so as one body. Our prayer and our praise are collective. Holy Communion is exactly that: communion. It is an activity that we engage in collectively and not as individuals. If there is no one in the church with me, I cannot celebrate alone, for I would be celebrating isolationism not communion. The confession then is not an opportunity for each of us to drift off into our own heads and to count our own shortcomings, rather as the Book of Common Prayer makes clear: “Then shall this general Confession be made in the name of all those that are minded to receive the Holy Communion.” When we say together the General Confession, we are lamenting our collective sin, in particular our failure to love God with our whole heart and our neighbour as ourselves. We are not concerned at this point in time with whether or not we spoke harshly to someone yesterday or whether we are greedy or selfish.[1] Our individual sins are trivial compared to our collective and overarching sin of not giving ourselves wholly to God and to each other.

This may seem a roundabout way of approaching the subject of today’s gospel but, as I hope you will see, it is particularly pertinent to Matthew’s account of Jesus’ baptism by John. John’s baptism, as he has made perfectly clear, is a baptism of repentance, but so far as we know Jesus has no need to repent. An understanding of the General Confession helps us to begin to make sense of why the sinless Jesus comes to be baptised by John and what Jesus means when he says that he needs to be baptised “to fulfil all righteousness.”

To understand what is going on here, we have to remember that first century thought was very different from our own. Two things are important to note. First of all, baptism as a way of initiating people into the Jewish faith was not widely practiced (if it was practiced at all). Baptism (which if translated literally means to wash or dip) was not, as it is for us, a ritual of membership. On the other hand, washing as a means of ritual purification was widely practiced. Secondly, first century Judaism understood that God’s relationship was with Israel as a whole and not with individuals. (On the day of Atonement for example, the High Priest performed rituals in the Temple on behalf of all the nation.) Likewise the coming of the kingdom of heaven had nothing to do with individual salvation, but everything to do with the salvation of the nation. John’s call to repent then was directed, not at individuals, but with the people as a whole. In this sense, John’s call to repentance was much like our invitation to Confession – it was collective and not personal.

So, if Jesus does not need to repent and if baptism is not a form of initiation what is Jesus doing here? Jesus’ sinlessness or otherwise does not enter the equation, because the repentance John demands is not individual. John is hesitant to baptise Jesus not because he has no sin, but because John has recognised in Jesus the one who is more powerful than he, the one who “will baptise with the Spirit and with fire.” John knows that he himself needs this different and more powerful baptism that Jesus can offer.

Despite this, Jesus insists on being baptised because: “it is fitting to fulfil all righteousness.” We cannot read Jesus’ mind or know what he really meant by these words but – if we understand that John’s call to repent addressed the nation as a whole and if we see in the birth, life and death of Jesus, God’s desire to be fully human – we can deduce that by allowing John to baptise him, Jesus is identifying himself completely with the people of Israel – not standing aloof or apart from his countrymen and women, but becoming completely one with them and sharing a common humanity. Through his baptism he was showing his complete solidarity with them.

In the General Confession we show our solidarity, not only with one another in our sinfulness, but with the troubled world of which we are a part.

 

[1] You may remember the controversy that was played out a few years ago in the Roman Catholic Church. It was the practice in that tradition that anyone who wanted to receive communion would, before coming to church, make their confession before a priest. Rome was concerned that private confession was becoming less regular and that individuals were relying the General Confession that they made in Church as their preparation for communion.

 

Authentic leadership

January 4, 2020

Epiphany – 2020
Matthew 2:1-12
Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to trust God so that we can trust ourselves. Amen.

It all began at least 30 years ago when a friend gave me a Christmas card featuring the wise ones or the magi. “I chose it,” she said, “because the figures look like women.” Since then I have built up a small collection of Christmas cards and quotes featuring wise women – most of them humorous. One pictures three women mounted on camels bearing gifts of disposable nappies, a book on childcare and a voucher for a well-known baby store. A second has a stream of women stretching out into the distance. The caption reads, “Three wise men, 3,675,493 wise women.” Another reads, “Three Wise Women would have asked directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, swept the stable, made a casserole and brought practical gifts.”

While I enjoyed the humour on the cards I thought that the idea of wise women was an invention, or an aspiration of the women’s movement. It was when I was researching today’s sermon that I came across an article that suggested that women would have been in the caravan that sought out the ‘King of the Jews’. This led me to explore the matter further. It appears that there is good reason to believe that women might have been among those who came to worship Jesus. The “magi” (for that is the word in the Greek text) would probably have come from Persia or modern-day Iran. They were followers of Zoroastrianism – a faith system that is now in decline, but which was one of the precursors of Islam. Zoroastrian priests were well known for telling fortunes and preparing daily horoscopes and they believed that they could foretell miraculous births by reading the stars .Zoroastrianism allowed women to serve priests and women often travelled with their male counterparts . Indeed, the Old Testament precursor of this story is that of the Queen of Sheba who travelled from Ethiopia to see King Solomon bearing gifts fit for a King. It is not beyond the realms of possibility that women would have been among the magi.

The problem with Matthew’s all too brief account is that while he tells us that there were three gifts (the Queen of Sheba brought gold and spices), he does not specify how many magi there were, whether they were male or female or tell us that they were kings. That there were three, and that they were kings is our imaginative interpretation. Indeed, the word “magoi”, like the word “parent” can be used for either gender and the tradition that there were three derives from the number of gifts presented.

As long ago as 2004, the General Synod of the Church of England voted to retain Matthew’s word ‘magi’ rather than translate it with a word (or words) that were more easily understood. The argument for this was two-fold. The use of the translation “magi” was truer to Matthew’s intention. It retains the exotic nature of Jesus’ visitors and, as the word is inclusive, it allowed for the possibility that women were present.

Of course, it doesn’t really matter who the magi were, where they came from or how many there were. The significance of their brief appearance lies not so much in the mystery but in the dramatic tension their presence creates and the stark contrast between their reaction to the birth and that of Herod. Herod was not a legitimate king of the Jews, but one appointed by the despised Romans. For this and other reasons, he was held in low esteem by the majority of the Judeans. He was not even a Jew and was so insecure that he did not hesitate to put to death members of his own family if he thought that they might present competition for the throne. It is little wonder that when Herod heard of Jesus’ birth he was not filled with delight and anticipation, but with terror and a desire to crush or remove the threat that Jesus signified. It was not only Herod who was troubled. Everyone who depended on him for their wealth and position (“all Jerusalem” in fact) shared his concern and recognized the potential for disruption that an alternate king represented.

In contrast to Herod, the response of the magi was one of curiosity, reverence and awe. They did not seek to destroy the child; but travelled a great distance to worship him. Their authority and sense of self did not depend on external affirmation or legitimation. They knew who they were and were confident of their place in the world. As a result, the magi were comfortable in their own skin, they did not need to stand on ceremony, nor did they need to defend or protect their position and they were not threatened by competition (perceived or real). Their position in the world was not dependent on anyone else and it was not altered or compromised when they knelt and worshipped Jesus. In fact, their status was enhanced and amplified by their humility.

As such, the magi pre-figured the person that Jesus would be. Jesus would be a king who did not need to prove himself by competing with or destroying those who opposed him. He would be self-assured, certain of who he was and of his place in the world. He would not need others to legitimize him and he would not be easily upset by his enemies. Jesus would not be driven by fear to protect his position – or even his life – and his place in the universe would not be diminished by his humility let alone by his submission to death on the cross.

In contrast to Herod, the magi were confident of their place in the world, they did not depend on external legitimation or affirmation and were not threatened by competition.We live in a world in which there is an increasing sense of insecurity and an increasing reliance on leaders who are authoritarian and who disparage or demean any who dare to criticize or challenge them.

The magi were clear where true authority lay, may we have their self-assurance, their humility and their wisdom and that we will always chose the authentic over the showy, the secure over the insecure and those who choose to serve over those who are determined to dominate.

 

 

 

Falling from grace

December 28, 2019

Christmas 1 – 2019

Matthew 2:13-23

Marian Free

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

Recently I listened to an interview with Timothy Spall the actor who, among other achievements, played the part of the artist J.M.W. Turner in the movie of the same name. I first came across Spall when I watched the extraordinary 1996 movie Secrets and Lies in which he played the lead role. During the interview, he was asked to tell the story of why he missed going to Cannes for the showing of that movie. As he tells it, Spall was at that time experiencing a certain amount of lethargy and, thinking that it was exhaustion, he went to the doctor expecting to be given some sort of tonic or pick-me-up. Within days, while he was in the midst of filming an advertisement, Spall received a call from the doctors’ surgery asking him to come in. Not wanting to spare the time or to leave the filming halfway through he insisted on speaking with the doctor. The doctor also refused to share the news over the phone. When Spall presented at the surgery, he was informed that the cause of his tiredness was not overwork or poor diet, it was a particularly aggressive form of leukemia – acute myeloid leukemia. Had he not been diagnosed and immediately begun the treatment; he might have been dead by the end of the week! Instead of going to Cannes he went to hospital for chemotherapy.

The fact that he was being interviewed indicates that the cure was successful, but Spall’s story is a reminder of how quickly our lives can change. An accident, a diagnosis, a sick or dying child, a change in the world economy, falling victim to a scam, any number of things – whether of our our making or from completely unrelated events – can turn our lives and our fortunes upside down in a heartbeat.

As Matthew tells the story, such was the case with Jesus. His birth was facilitated by the Holy Spirit and heralded by an angel. A new star signalled his arrival. News of his birth reached the centre of power. Wise men or kings travelled a great distance to see him, to kneel before him and to give him gifts that were both rich and rare. This, Matthew leads us to believe was no ordinary child. He was born in the symbolically significant town of Bethlehem – the home of King David. As an infant he was recognized as King of the Jews and worshipped as God. Yet, barely had the wise men left, when Jesus and his family were forced to flee, not only the city, but the country. From being identified as royalty they became as fugitives. From having the world at their feet, they were forced to seek shelter from strangers. From being worshipped as God to being just another refugee fleeing cruelty and oppression. From having the power to strike fear into the heart of Herod and of Jerusalem to being completely powerless in the insignificant, barely known village of Nazareth. From being at the center of the Jewish world to being at its very edges, considered as little better than a Samaritan. Overnight Jesus and his family went from recognition to ignominy, renown to obscurity.

It was a dramatic turn of events, albeit one which has lost some of the impact in its retelling over the centuries. Unlike Luke for whom Jesus was born in a stable and revealed to the poor and lowly including shepherds, who were considered no better than thieves, Matthew places Jesus’ birth among the rich and powerful. Yet, hardly has he established Jesus’ credentials as king and God than he turns the story on its head. Jesus will not, as his beginning suggests, be identified with kings and rulers. He will in fact take his place among the most helpless and vulnerable of his community. Kings will not bow down before him, instead they will oppose him. His followers will not be the wise men from the east or even from among his own people, but the marginalised and the outcast, those with no status at all.

Jesus’ apparent fall from grace turns out to be anything but. As Matthew tells the story, everything that happened was going according to plan. Jesus is a king but, as the readers will come to see, he is a king like no other. Jesus is God, but as God he fully identifies with the plight of humanity to the point of becoming one of and one with them. Jesus’ change in circumstance is full of symbolic meaning that more fully spells out who and what he is, and, through the fulfillment passages, Matthew shows that God had seen how things would work out and that God’s hand had been with Jesus every step of the journey.

Life does not always work out the way that we hope and plan. Sometimes a curved ball is thrown in our direction and we have to re-think who we are, what we are doing and where we are going. At such times we must follow Joseph’s example and believe that, however bleak things appear, God is with us, guiding us through the darkness and helping us to accept and to work with the way things are. Sometimes, with hindsight, we will see that God has moved us through the pain and difficulty to where we were always meant to be.

 

 

Risking everything to bring Christ to birth

December 21, 2019

Advent 4 – 2019

Matthew 1:18-25

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us out of our comfort zone and into a world as yet unknown. Amen.

Fifty years ago many people were threatened by the emergence of feminism and some still are. Its opponents have argued that women are intrinsically different from men and have different roles and should stick to the responsibilities appointed to them. Of course, that view is no longer prominent, and most would agree that the feminist movement has had a positive impact on Western society. Not only has the movement freed women to take a fuller part in the world but, at its best, it has liberated both women and men to be themselves and to achieve their full potential. It is true that there have always been men who have taken a lead in household chores, in cooking and in childcare but, as women have been freed to join the workforce and pursue their dreams, so more men have taken the opportunity to take up roles traditionally assigned to women including those of primary child-carer and chief cook.  Because some women (and a few men) challenged the existing customs of their day, what was counter-cultural and even threatening 55 years ago has become, for many, the norm.

In their different ways both Matthew and Luke make it clear that Jesus’ birth is only possible because Joseph and Mary were prepared to act in ways that were radical and counter-cultural. Responding to God’s call on their lives was both dangerous and subversive and yet they faced the challenge with grace and courage. Despite the fact that the gospel writers make the choice look easy and imply that their decision were received by their neighbours without question, it is important to remember that only Mary and Joseph were privy to the appearance of the angels. They may have been confident that it was God who was speaking to them, but their relatives and friends would only have had their word for what had taken place. We have no idea how the small, religiously conservative village of Nazareth responded to the shocking and even immoral behaviour of two of their members. Like all change-makers Joseph and Mary risked vilification, exclusion and even stoning – Mary for becoming pregnant to someone other than her betrothed and Joseph for ignoring the social and biblical norms by taking her in marriage.

Neither Joseph nor Mary would have been able to justify their choices by pointing to history or to precedent. Nor could they defend their behaviour with reference to Old Testament prophecy. Nowhere in the Old Testament does it suggest that a carpenter from Nazareth would have a role in the birth of the Christ. I can’t imagine that anything in Joseph’s religious background or education would have led him to expect that the Christ would come into the world by means of two very ordinary people in a backwater of Palestine, let alone that he would be one of those people.

Joseph did not even have the advantage of seeing the angel face-to-face, but only in a dream. Nevertheless, Joseph, unlike Mary, asked no questions. He simply woke up and did as the angel commanded without any thought for the consequences for himself.

Joseph and Mary were free to say “no” to the angel’s request. They could have argued that responding to God’s call was simply too difficult, too dangerous or too risky. They might have been concerned about what other people might think and what the impact on their lives might have been. Instead, as the gospel writers tell it, their response was immediate and wholehearted, even reckless. As a consequence of their willingness to be God’s vessels for change, the course of history was dramatically altered. Within four centuries the child to whom they gave a welcome was worshipped throughout the Roman Empire and today, the faith that bears his name is one of the world’s major religions.

In the insignificant village of Nazareth, in the Gentile region of Galilee, Joseph and Mary could not have known how far-reaching their decisions would be. They would not have foreseen that in the name of their son hospitals and schools would be built to heal and educate the poor, that slavery would eventually be brought to an end, that wars would be won and lost and that thousands would give their lives rather than renounce him.

Joseph and Mary risked everything – their respectability, their family, their friends and even their lives – to answer God’s call. Throughout history thousands of others have refused

to be bound by cultural norms and sometimes, at great risk to themselves, have challenged the status quo in response to God’s call on their lives. Many of those whom we now call “saints” were non-conformists – people whose vision and confidence in God, led them to confront injustice and oppression and to question corrupt leadership both in society and within the church. Often, they paid for their actions with their lives.

Joseph and Mary together with saints and martyrs through the centuries remind us that, as followers of Christ, we are all called to be change agents – to hear the word of God tugging on our conscience, urging us to do what is right, to challenge unjust structures and to care for the poor and the outcast – with or without the approval of the society in which we find ourselves and with no concern for our own safety or social status.

The voice of the angel may elude us, but that does not relieve us of our responsibility to be those who through our words and actions bring Christ to birth in a world that as yet does not know how much it needs his presence.

Are you the one?

December 14, 2019

Advent 3 – 2020

Matthew 11:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God whom we see only in part. Amen.

When David Jackson premiered his movie The Lord of the Rings, there were cries of disappointment from readers who felt that he had not done justice to Tolkien’s story. Creating a screen play from a novel involves a lot of artistic and practical choices. Screen and print are two very different medium, tension and drama are captured differently and the writers have to translate descriptive words into concrete images. There are time constraints as well. Had Jackson included the apparently well-loved Bombadill, the movie would have been inordinately long and the mounting tension would have dissipated. It is very difficult for a script writer, a movie director, or a casting agent to get inside the heads of the thousands – maybe millions who will watch the final movie.

When we read a novel we form pictures of the characters and the scenery that become inseparable from our experience of the book. We think that because we are putting into imagination what the author has described that everyone else has the same visual image. It can be very disappointing when we feel that books that we have loved do not translate well on the screen.

In first century there was not one common form of Judaism, let alone a single, consistent image of a Messiah – the anointed one whom God would send. When people heard or read the scriptures they found very different expectations of the future – from the annihilation of the world to the building of a peaceful kingdom on earth. Similarly, there were different expectations as to how this would cone about. One stream of thought focused on the promise that God would raise up someone in David’s line to be King over them. Another was that God would come as judge and destroy the wicked- especially the enemies of Israel. The community at Qumran (writers of the Dead Sea Scrolls) expected three different figures to come in the future – one priestly, one kingly and a third who would lead them in battle.

John the Baptist appears to have had a very clear idea as to the person whom God would send. He declares: “I baptise you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptise you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” (Mt 3:11,12). When Jesus came to be baptised John recognized him as the one whom he had expected. How disappointed and confused he must have been when Jesus did not live up to his expectations. Instead of being a fire brand and a judge, Jesus was compassionate and, by and large, non-judgemental. There is no evidence in Jesus’ ministry of the ‘winnowing fork’ or ‘the unquenchable fire’. Instead of condemning the people Jesus healed and restored them. He certainly did not stand out from his contemporaries as the one whom God had sent to separate the wheat from the chaff.

It was no wonder then that John (who was by now in prison), sent his disciples to Jesus to ask: “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Frustratingly, Jesus did not answer the question. Instead he said, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive 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.” We will never know if this was enough to satisfy John. What is clear is that Jesus saw himself not as the one coming in judgement, but as one who was bringing to fruition a different promise that of Isaiah (Isaiah 42:6f).

As he languished in prison, John faced the possibility that he had been wrong – either in what he has expected orin his announcement that Jesus was the one who was to come.

John’s confusion is a salutary lesson for each of us. If John, with all his confidence! was not sure that Jesus was the one whom he had proclaimed, how can we be confident that we will recognize Jesus when he comes again? We are no more able to read the mind of God than we are able to get inside the heads of script writers. If the characters and scenes of a novel can be imagined in more than one way, how can we be certain that our reading of scripture is the only way that scripture can be read?

Advent is a time of expectation, a time of anticipation. Let us cultivate both so that we are not mired in a mire of certainty – blind to God’s presence with us now and unprepared for the way in which God will be revealed in the future.

Not our our watch?

February 16, 2019

Holy Innocents – 2019

Matthew 2:13-18

Marian Free

In the name of God who uses love, not force to ensure obedience and trust. Amen.

Some of you will have seen the recent movie, “Mary, Queen of Scots”. Mary was the legitimate daughter of James the V of Scotland, but more importantly, she was the great, granddaughter of England’s Henry VII, and, after the childless Elizabeth, she was the legitimate claimant to the English throne. Mary who at only 6 days old was declared Queen of Scotland as a consequence of the death of her father, was sent to France for her education. At eighteen Mary, a Roman Catholic, returned to a Scotland that in her absence had embraced Protestantism and did not welcome a papist Queen..

Her troubles in Scotland were one thing, but it was the fact that Mary was a threat to Elizabeth’s reign and and the fact that her presence might be the catalyst for civil war or war between the two nations, that led her to her imprisonment and finally to her execution. As long as Mary was alive, she could be a focal point for dissent in the realm and beyond, and Elizabeth’s grip on power was weakened as a result.

The history of the British monarchy is littered with stories of intrigue – of people seeking favour with the king (or queen) to increase their wealth or to bolster or secure their power; or of competing heirs to the throne who must be destroyed lest they pursue their claim by force or become figureheads for those who want to depose the crown. As a consequence, the queen (or king) learns that no one can be trusted, that power must be maintained by force and that any and all opposition must be eliminated so that they no longer pose a threat.

Given our own history, it should come as no surprise to us that Herod, whose position is entirely dependent on his relationship with Rome and his ability to maintain control over a people who despise and reject him, should be agitated when he learns from the magi that a king has been born and not only a king, but the legitimate king of the Jews. The child presents a double threat – he could become a focal point for the unrest that was always just below the surface or he could raise an army and make a claim for Herod’s throne. From Herod’s point of view there is only one way to avoid conflict and loss of face (not to mention loss of power). The child has to die. The problem, in this instance, is that Herod has no way of knowing when the child was born, so just to be safe, he kills all the boys who were born in Bethlehem in the two years before the magi’s visit.

There is no external historical proof that Herod did in fact slaughter the children of Bethlehem, but history has demonstrated time and time again that despots deal with threats to their power in only one way – by ruling tyrannically and by ruthlessly crushing any hint of opposition. Those who challenge, resist or protest oppressive and unjust regimes are usually arrested, tortured and killed – not only in the distant past but also in our present time.

News reports tell us in Venezuela today – a country in which inflation is out of control, medicines are impossible to source and food is scarce – the military is sent to into the slums to quell unrest, with violence if necessary. Protesters who are arrested simply disappear. In Turkey in 2016, an attempted coup against the government led to the imprisonment – not of students, and rabble rousers, but of lawyers and judges and military personnel. Anyone who was critical of the government or who was perceived to be a threat, was arrested and imprisoned. According to a CNN report, more than 110,000 people have been incarcerated since – a number that includes 200 top Turkish court officials. Many have been taken into custody despite the fact that there is no evidence that they had any involvement in the coup. The President was not and is not taking any risks.

In any time and place leaders who do not have the support of their people use repressive and violent means to suppress and eradicate opposition. Stalin’s Russia, Hitlers Germany, Apartheid South Africa, Pol Pot’s Cambodia, the list goes on and on. Brutal repression of revolt, the silencing of dissidents, and the scapegoating of those who are different is justified by the need to keep law and order and it gains support by the vilification and denigration of those who dare to expose injustice and oppression.

So, is Matthew’s account of the slaughter of the innocents simply a commentary on the abuse of power or – does it have something to say to those of us in twenty first century Australia who have the right to choose who governs us and the freedom to criticise our leaders and to protest decisions that we feel to be unreasonable or unfair?

I suspect that we have to recognise that there is a little bit of Herod in all of us, concern for our own welfare, fear of the unknown and a desire to maintain the status quo and in every age there will be those who abuse their power.

It is important that we do not become complacent. We have to be careful that our silence does not give legitimacy to acts of cruelty and torture, that our need for stability and security does not lead us to shore up unjust systems and oppression governments, that our own need for security and peace does not make us indifferent, or worse, deaf and blind to the legitimate complaints of others and that our desire to protect and preserve what we have does not make us fearful of the claims others might make on us.

In other words, let us be on our guard and let us do all that we can to ensure that the innocent are not slaughtered on our watch.