Archive for the ‘Palm Sunday’ Category

Humble and riding on a donkey – Palm Sunday

April 14, 2025

Palm Sunday – 2025

Luke 22:14 – 23:56, Phil 2:5-11

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us and empowers us and who shows us our true worth. Amen.

Paul writes: Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, 

                  who, though he was in the form of God,

                                    did not regard equality with God

                                    as something to be exploited, 

                  but emptied himself,

                                    taking the form of a slave,

                                    being born in human likeness.

                  And being found in human form, 

                                    he humbled himself

                                    and became obedient to the point of death—

                                    even death on a cross.

To conclude from this that Jesus had no agency, or that he allowed himself to be put upon would be a mistake.

Humility can one of the most difficult virtues to grasp and to practice. It requires a great deal of balance. Humility is often mistaken for weakness[1], submission or meekness whereas it is in humility that true strength lies. One of the problems in coming to grips with humility is that it can appear to be contradictory in nature, and it is often easier to define in terms of what it is not rather than what it is. So, for example while humility involves not thinking more highly of oneself than is warranted, it also means not thinking less of oneself than one deserves. Misunderstanding humility leads to false modesty and to self-deprecation, both of which suggest a focus on oneself which leads of pride, the opposite of humility. Worse, false modesty is a denial of the unique gifts and talents bestowed on us by God. 

To be humble is to have a realistic view of oneself – one’s weaknesses and one’s strengths. Humility means having a willingness to learn, from others and from one’s mistakes but it does not mean underestimating or denying our gifts, hiding our light under bushel, being silent in the face of injustice, or allowing ourselves to be treated as a door mat.

The readings for this morning highlight the contradictory nature of humility – or the balance between what appears to be pride and the total trust in and reliance on God. In Isaiah, the speaker boasts of his strengths at the same time as acknowledging that these come from the Lord. The Christ hymn of Philippians celebrates Jesus’ humble self-emptying, and his giving up his divinity to fully inhabit his humanity. Yet Jesus’ behaviour as he enters Jerusalem – his willingness to accept the adulation and praise of the people and their acknowledgement of his kingship, his overturning of the tables in the temple and his confident responses to the challenges of the leaders and teachers of the church suggest a Jesus who is anything but humble in the usual sense of the word. 

In the account of the Passion, Jesus’ insistence that God has given him a kingdom, his allowing his disciples to be armed, his composure when faced with Judas’ betrayal and the secrecy which surrounded his arrest and his refusal to be drawn into a defence of his messiahship indicate his clear understanding of who he is – not a weak submission to fate. Jesus’ insistence that the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand of God, his insistence that the women not feel sorry for him, his offering of forgiveness from the cross and his assurance to the contrite criminal that he would enter Paradise all demonstrate a healthy ego, a quiet strength, and a confidence in his role which could be mistaken for pride.

It is these apparent contradictions that give us a sense of what it truly means to be humble. Jesus’ determination, self-belief and self-awareness are anything but the weakness and mildness that are often associated with humility. Jesus accepted his God-given role, which was to submit to God’s will for his life, but he absolutely refused to deny the gifts that came with the role. He didn’t exploit his divinity, but neither did he deny the strengths associated with it. He allowed the soldiers to demean and torture him, but he maintained a steely resolve to see his task through to the end[2].

Jesus’ humility was born out of a confidence in himself, his clear understanding of his role and his place before God, and a determination to follow the path set before him wherever it led. Jesus’ certainty with regard to his role and his assurance that he was following God’s will, gave him the courage to stay true to himself rather than be tempted to use his godliness to avoid what lay ahead.

As we enter into Holy Week and walk with Jesus to the cross may we have a true sense of our own worth, recognise our strengths and our limitations and know our place in God’s plan for the world and have the courage to be true to our God-given selves.


[1] One of the on-line dictionary definitions suggested that submissiveness, meekness and lowliness are synonyms which surely is misleading. and leads to an understanding of humility as self-abnegation, rather than a true sense of one’s worth.

[2] In the desert Jesus had already demonstrated an ability to withstand temptation to grasp power, or to use the power that he did have to gain followers, wealth and governance of the world.  At any point could have, as he could in the wilderness, laid claim to his godliness – called down angels to fight for him, spoken in his defence (not that that would have worked), shown anger or given in to despair.

Innocent act or deliberate provocation? Jesus’ entry to Jerusalem

April 1, 2023

Palm Sunday – 2023
Matthew 26:14-27 (21:1-11)
Marian Free

In the name of God, source of all being, eternal word and Holy Spirit. Amen.

It is no wonder that our scriptures are sometimes referred to as the ‘living word’. There is always more to be discovered within the pages of our biblical text, always much more to be revealed than at first appears. This is in part because when we read a passage, a story or a Psalm there are many factors that come into play – our state of mind, our faith tradition, our prior understanding of the text, our knowledge of first century history and culture and our understanding of literary forms just to mention a few. Perhaps most importantly, because we believe that scriptures are inspired by God, and that the Holy Spirit informs our reading we approach the bible with a sense of expectation and wonder. What will it reveal on this occasion? What new things will I learn? There are times when I completely by surprise. I will be reading a familiar passage, when I notice a word or phrase as if for the very first time and see the passage in a completely new light .

Understanding scripture as the ‘living word’ frees us to read it from a variety of angles, exposes us to new possibilities and liberates us from the hubris of believing that we already know what it says and what it means for us.

In the Parish email this week I suggested that Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem was not an innocent act, but a deliberate strategy. Jesus, a little-known, travelling teacher from Galilee might not have received such a rousing welcome had he simply mingled with the crowds who were surging into Jerusalem for the Passover. By riding a donkey, Jesus was making sure that he stood out from the crowds. Riding a donkey that had a foal implies that Jesus intended the crowds to draw a parallel between himself and the triumphant king – Zechariah. If this was the case, it was this (not Jesus’ fame) that drew attention to himself, and which caused the crowds to react so joyously.

Knowledge of first century history throws more light on Jesus’ action.

As we know, Passover was a time of heightened tension in Jerusalem. At this time the population of Jerusalem swelled from 50,000 to 200,000, the visitors were filled with excitement and there were the usual problems associated with crowds. To maintain control at this. time, the Roman governor made it his business to be present in the city and with him, his troops. Pilate would have entered from the west in a blatant display of imperial power: “cavalry on horses, foot soldiers, leather armour, helmets, weapons, banners, golden eagles mounted on poles, sun glinting on metal and gold.”

In the light of Pilate’s procession, Jesus’ entry on the same day can be understood as a parody, an exposè of the foolishness of temporal power and a reminder that true power belongs to God. In contrast to the power and might of the Empire, Jesus’ reveals a power that does not rely on force and that will not assert its will by suppression.

Jesus knew that the people of Israel, oppressed and humiliated were looking for a leader who might drive the Romans from their land. Jesus, by mocking Pilate’s procession is enacting a different scenario, demonstrating that there is a different way to bring in God’s kingdom – a way of vulnerability, service and humility.

The contradictions of this day are echoed by contradictions of Holy Week –

Excitement becomes anxiety;
Joy becomes terror;
“Triumph” turns into defeat;
The cries of “hosanna” become the cries of “crucify him”;
The “king” who parodies the might of Rome, is in turn ridiculed by Roman soldiers;
The welcome of the crowds become their utter rejection of Jesus.

As we enter this most Holy Week, let us enter the story afresh, allow ourselves to notice the tensions and free the text to speak to us anew.

What – no palm branches??

April 9, 2022

Palm Sunday – 2022
Luke 19:28-39
Marian Free

In the name of God who cannot be captured by the limits of our imagination, and who continues to surprise and astound us. Amen.

For many of us Palm Sunday holds special memories – the procession, the hymns, the palms, the drama. “All glory, laud and honour.” The chorus resounds in our heads as we make our way to church and the new palm crosses rest in our hands as we make our way home. The church will have been both bright (with palms) and sombre – all the crosses now covered in purple – a reminder that the triumph of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem heralds the humiliation of the crucifixion. There may have been a dramatization of the gospels and we hear ourselves saying: “Crucify him, crucify him!”

Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem is one of the stories that, possibly because of its dramatic presentation during the liturgy, captures our imagination and remains with us from our childhood on. We know it so well – the donkey freely given (though the owner does not know for what it will be used), the palms that are waved and used to cover the ground under Jesus, the shouts of the crowds – “Hosanna!” and “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”

At least that is what we think the story says. I wonder, how many of us have really paid attention? Now that the account of the passion takes centre stage on Palm Sunday, I suspect that a majority of us rely on our memories rather than on the gospels themselves, for the details of the events that accompany Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. Indeed, most of us would not know which gospel formed the basis for our ideas of what occurred and, even if we had taken the time to read all four gospel accounts of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, it is unlikely that we would have noticed the differences between the accounts – which elements have taken centre stage and which have fallen by the wayside.

May I suggest that you take time to read all four different gospel accounts and that you make a point to discern which aspects of the day the different authors emphasised. (I’ll give you a clue. Matthew has the disciples borrow both a donkey and the colt of a donkey because one of his goals is to demonstrate the ways in which Jesus fulfills the Old Testament – in this case the prophet Zechariah 9:9 (“Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”)

Given that our Lectionary this year follows Luke’s gospel, I have paid particular attention to what Luke has written. If you have already read the four gospels, you might have noticed a number of things his account – in particular the fact that there are no palm branches might have stood out for you. Despite the fact that we take for granted that palm branches (or at least branches) were waved in the air, according to Luke not only was nothing waved, but there were no palms at all! If we were solely reliant on Luke’s account of events we would think that there was no waving and that only cloaks were laid on the ground before Jesus. “Cloak Sunday” doesn’t have the same ring to it and our processions would look entirely different if Luke was our only account.

Other details are different in Luke’s version. No one shouts: “Hosanna!” (That word does not occur at all in the third gospel.) Instead, Luke adds the words: “Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” which remind us of the words of the angels to the shepherds. Also, it is difficult to know (from the account in this gospel) whether it is “the crowds” who cheer on Jesus as he enters the city, or whether it is just his disciples. (Luke tells us that it is a multitude of disciples who “praise God in a loud voice” and that the Pharisees order Jesus to stop his disciples.) In other words, those who already know Jesus and have followed him from Galilee are the only people who are shouting out as he enters Jerusalem. These details, I think you will agree, puts an entirely new slant on the story.

That doesn’t mean that we have to let go of our childhood memories, but it does challenge us to pay attention, to recognise that we don’t actually know as much as we think we know, and to let go of our preconceived ideas and our settled approach to our scriptures. The four accounts of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem remind us to ask ourselves: “What else are we missing?”, to understand that it is important that we take nothing for granted, and that we approach scripture with open minds and with a sense of expectancy. If we are not to become stuck in our views or to left behind, it is essential that we anticipate surprises whenever we open our bibles instead of reading scriptures through the lens of what we already know.

Unfortunately, our relationship with God can be the same as our relationship with scripture. Whether we are radical or conservative we can reach a point at which we become complacent, and our notion of God becomes settled. Sadly, when we become comfortable with our image of God we lose our sense of awe and expectancy, we surrender our willingness to be pulled up short by an unexpected revelation of God and we fail to be surprised by the unexpected presence (or absence) of God in a person, a place or an event. We are losers not winners, if we become self-satisfied and comfortable with our faith – because God (and scripture) will ALWAYS have something more to reveal and something more to teach us.

As we approach Holy Week, may we see the events as if for the first time, be attentive to details that we might have missed and filled with the expectation that God always has something new to share with us.

Whose side are we on?

March 27, 2021

Palm Sunday – 2021

Mark 11:1-11

Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Earthmaker, Painbearer, Lifegiver. Amen.

I grew up in the era of protest – primarily protests against apartheid and against the Vietnam war. We lived a stone’s throw from the University and the marchers would often pass our street on their way to the city. Among our church congregation were students who felt strongly enough that they joined the marches and among our acquaintances was a long-serving police officer who was brought in to enforce the law. In any situation of  unrest there are at least two narratives – that of the government and the status quo and that of those who believe that they are standing up against injustice, oppression and/or evil. Depending on the lens through which we observe the situation, we will have more sympathy for one side or the other. We will see the police/the armed forces as brutes or defenders of the peace and the protestors as courageous truth-sayers or radical disturbers of the peace.

To take two recent examples. In Myanmar today, the army will be asserting that they are simply trying to maintain order, fight corruption and build a stable government. On the other hand, the protesters, incensed at the removal of a democratically elected government, are voicing their opposition to the coup. Whose side do you take – that of the protesters who are willing to lose their lives for what they believe to be right, or the government which is determined that right is on their side? In the UK recently, police were accused of using force to break up a protest related to the death of Sarah Eve are and violence against women. Police were anxious to prevent the spread of COVID, the women were making the point that violence against women needs to stop. Which narrative do we hold to be true? Sometimes it is easy to make a decision as to who is in the right, but sometimes we, the onlookers find ourselves conflicted – both sides are right at least in part.

I wonder where we would stand if we found ourselves in first century Jerusalem during Passover?

One could be forgiven if one thought that Jesus was being deliberately provocative when he arrived in Jerusalem for the feast. His actions seem to be deliberate and well thought out, not spur of the moment reactions to what he sees.

A closer look at the narrative reveals that Jesus has planned his entry. Whether or not he has warned the owner of the donkey that he will send his disciples to borrow the colt, Jesus has obviously determined that he will ride into Jerusalem in the manner of a King (as described in Zechariah 9). Most people will have ascended  into Jerusalem on foot, but Jesus has chosen to ride. He was not only arriving in the manner of the expected King, but he was also ensuring that he stood out from the crowd. His action assured that he was noticed by the people who have thronged to Jerusalem for the Passover and it is little surprise that they interpreted his arrival as that the one who comes in the name of the Lord, the one who will save Israel.

What is interesting is that Jesus doesn’t press his advantage. He doesn’t immediately gather the crowds and form a movement. When it gets late, he simply leaves the city and returns to Bethany.

We are left to wonder what he does overnight. Was he incensed by what he sees as the corruption and hypocrisy of the Temple priests? Does he stew over what he has seen? We will never know. What we do know is that the next day, he is in anything but a good mood. On his way back to Jerusalem in the morning he saw a fig which had no fruit and – even though it was probably the wrong time of year for figs – he cursed the tree – which will never bear fruit again. When he re- entered Jerusalem, he went straight to the Temple where, as we know, he overturned the tables of the money changers and drove the animals from the Temple precincts. Again, this does not seem to be a spur of the moment action – after all he was in the Temple the previous day. It appears as though he has deliberately come to challenge the use of the Temple as a marketplace. Then having antagonised those in power in Jerusalem – Jew and Roman alike – Jesus leaves the city once more.

On the third day he returned to Jerusalem and the Temple and when, the religious leaders engaged him in debate, he not only defeated them, but he further angered them by telling a parable against them.

In this scenario, Jesus is presented as anything but a peacemaker. In fact, he seems to be deliberately antagonising the religious and secular leaders. It is as if he has no time to lose – his critique of the system cannot wait, he must confront it head on. It is as if he is trying to force their hands, to expose their hypocrisy, to bring things to a head. In this, as we know, he succeeded. Before the week was out he had been arrested, tried and crucified. An innocent man murdered – or was he?

How one views Jesus’ death depends on the narrative that we choose to believe. Was he – as the leaders of the time thought – the subversive radical who needed to be destroyed? Or was he – as we now believe to be true – the Saviour of the world? Before we judge the first century crowds too harshly we must ask ourselves which narrative would we have believed had we been there –  that of the leaders or that of Jesus?

In today’s world when people speak truth to power, we must open our minds and hearts so that when we are disquieted and the status quo is threatened we don’t jump to the conclusion that they are radicals, trouble-makers or subversives or we may find that we too quickly join the voices that call for their (Jesus’) destruction.

It will never be the same

April 4, 2020

Palm Sunday – 2020

Matthew 21:1-11

Marian Free

In the name of God who uses our pain and suffering to transform and renew us. Amen.

Life will never get back to “normal”. When this crisis is behind us the world will look very different What that will be like no one knows. There a will be vast numbers of people for whom this experience will have been costly in more ways than one, we as a community and as a nation will have learnt much and in many ways changed for the better. One difference will be that our congregations have embraced digital technology. A significant improvement for the community will be the inclusion of telehealth in Medicare that will save people the time and money that it costs for them to drive great distances for a repeat prescription and or to access therapy. Many businesses are already finding innovative solutions to the shut-down and the care and goodwill that is being shown by local communities and individuals will not easily be forgotten.

That is not to say that a pandemic is good or that it’s part of God’s plan but it is a reminder that if we allow them, pain and suffering and loss can lead to growth and transformation for individuals and communities.

In general humanity is not very good at dealing with trauma as has perhaps been demonstrated by the slow uptake of the government’s encouragement that we stay at home. People react differently to pain. Some wallow in it, enjoying the attention and sympathy they might receive. Others are stoic. “We all have our crosses to bear” is a refrain of those who seem to think that they are destined to suffer and must simply endure it. Some pull up the draw bridge and look at ways to keep the hurt out. Still others try to bury the pain through medication or sheer will power – imagining perhaps: “if I don’t think about it, it might go away” or “if I’m strong enough I’ll get through this”. Some people fill their lives with distractions (throwing themselves into their work or their social and family life, or by abusing drugs or alcohol) so that they don’t notice the pain. Still others simply deny that there is anything amiss with their lives; afraid to look too closely in case they do not like what they see or in case it overwhelms them.

I mention these various reactions not to be critical – I suspect that most us have reacted in similar ways during the course of our lifetimes. We all need strategies to deal with grief, trauma and loss – whether they are life-giving or not.

In today’s world, there is a tendency (at least in our privileged, self-absorbed Western world) to see pain and suffering as the enemy. We use language such as: “I’ll beat it” as if we can defeat everything (even death) threatens our idea of a good life and we forget that joy and sorrow, love and grief, success and failure go hand in hand. Many of us push suffering and pain to the periphery as if it did not belong to the swings and round-abouts of life.  Popular culture has encouraged us to embrace positivity and happiness as if they will steer us away from pain and despair. Motivational speakers make vast sums of money selling stories of how they overcame their adversity and telling anyone who will listen that they too can do this if only they believe in themselves and focus on the positive.

There is wisdom in focussing on the good rather than being absorbed by the bad, but if we deny the place of suffering in our lives and in the world, or if we ignore it rather than dealing with it, we will forget that suffering has something to teach us. As Richard Rohr points out, “we do not handle suffering; suffering handles us— in deep and mysterious ways that become the very matrix of life and especially new life. Only suffering and certain kinds of awe lead us into genuinely new experiences. All the rest is merely the confirmation of old experience.” [1]. In other words, if we spend our lives ignoring our pain, relishing our pain or burying our pain then we miss out on the growth, enrichment and the transformation that suffering can bring about.

Suffering is not good in and of itself, it should not be sought out and it certainly should not be imposed on others. But it does, as Rohr suggests, force us to reassess our values and our expectations, to separate the trivial from the important and to let go of our illusions about ourselves.

Holy Week reminds us that Jesus did not seek pain, but nor did he try to avoid it. He did not hide from the authorities but risked teaching in the open. He did not restrain Judas but let him conspire with the priests. He did not resort to the sword but submitted to being arrested. And he did not call down the angels but allowed himself to be nailed to the cross.

Had Jesus made different choices, he would not have died, but neither would he have been raised from the dead.

We can choose to hold on to what we have and what has always been, or we can let it all go and see what God will do with it.

This prayer/poem by Brother Richard Hendrick gives us something to reflect on this week and in the weeks to come.

So we pray and we remember that:

Yes there is fear. But there does not have to be hate.

Yes there is isolation. But there does not have to be loneliness.

Yes there is panic buying. But there does not have to be meanness.

Yes there is sickness. But there does not have to be disease of the soul.

Yes, there is even death. But there can always be a rebirth of life. (Brother Richard Hendrick, A Capuchin Franciscan living in Ireland. Quoted by Julia Baird in The Sydney Morning Herald,

April 4, 2020, p32.)

[1] Daily reflection, March 29, 2020.

How is your relationship with Jesus?

March 24, 2018

Palm Sunday – 2018

Mark 14:1 – 15:27

Marian Free

In the name of God who asks us to retain an openness to the world around us so that we don’t mistake Jesus for a trouble-maker and miss him altogether. Amen.

We interrupt this bulletin to bring you some breaking news. Police have called for back up to quell a potential riot in the small regional town of Woiwoorung. Crowds from all over the region have descended on the town for the annual music festival. The usual levels of excitement and anticipation are threatening to spill over into mob behavior with the arrival in town of one Jesse Bunda. Jesse, a young indigenous woman, is well-known to police. She is a controversial figure who has been attracting crowds wherever she goes. Jesse has been spreading the message that the regional authorities are inefficient and corrupt. She has been suggesting that those who live beyond the town have the power to take things into their own hands to create better lives for themselves.

Some people are drawn to her and almost as many are disturbed by her presence, her actions and her words. The authorities in particular are wishing that she simply would fade away. As we speak, the police have the situation in hand, but they are worried that there might be a stand-off between Jesse’s supporters and those who see themselves as the brunt of her criticism.

At this moment the streets of Woiwoorung are continuing to fill with people. They are spilling out of their homes and businesses, from the pubs, the shops and the school just to catch a glimpse of the person who is causing such a stir. There is so much excitement in the usually quiet town that people are climbing on to cars and the backs of trucks. They are calling out, waving clothes and branches – doing whatever they can to catch Jesse’s attention. The populace is wondering whether Jesse will dare to speak here – here in front of the authorities of whom she has been so critical. Until now the influential people of the town have, of course, known about Jesse and what she has been doing, but they had thought of her as a harmless eccentric whose influence would die out as quickly as it had grown. They were completely unprepared for today’s reaction.

Our reporters on the ground tell us that it is almost impossible for the local police to see what is going on. At any moment things might turn ugly especially if those who support the status quo decide to take on those who are challenging it.

Keep watching as we bring you the latest developments.

It is easy for us, from the perspective of our comfortable, middle-class Anglicanism, to think of Jesus as a benign and comforting figure, to forget that in his day he was difficult, confrontational and divisive. As much as there were people who welcomed him and his message, there were those who viewed him with anxiety and suspicion – even with alarm. Almost from the start of his ministry Jesus angered and offended the leaders of his day – the Pharisees, the scribes and the priests. Jesus blatantly broke the Sabbath law and presumed to forgive sins – something that was God’s prerogative. He called the Pharisees hypocrites and told parables that implied that the authorities were greedy and corrupt. And the people he mixed with – well no decent, law-abiding person would have been seen dead with them, let alone have eaten with them or, worse still, included them among their companions. Those in authority could have been forgiven for thinking that he was inciting insurrection – after all the crowds seemed to hang on his every word and at any moment they could have turned against them. Jesus was provocative, disruptive and troublesome. No wonder that those charged with keeping the peace wanted to subdue and restrain him. No wonder they wanted to get rid of him.

From time to time I find myself asking: “If Jesus were among us today, would I recognise him (or her)? Would I find Jesus challenging and disturbing or comforting and reassuring? Would I try to protect the status quo or would I join Jesus in challenging structures and norms that had become unwieldy and unhelpful? Would I have the courage to own up to and let go of my hypocrisy?” The answer is, “I don’t know.” I can only hope that I have not created a Jesus who makes feel comfortable and secure and that I am able to retain an openness to who Jesus might have been and who Jesus might be if he were to appear in front of me today.

We should never be so comfortable in our faith that we do not allow our ideas to be challenged. We should never be so complacent that we allow ourselves to think that we know all there is to know and we should never simply assume that we alone are on the side of right.

Two thousand years ago, those who thought they knew who and what to expect called for Jesus to be put to death. Let us hope that we do not make the same mistake.

How is your relationship with Jesus? Would you know Jesus if he were right in front of you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

God doesn’t not lose faith with us

April 8, 2017

Lent 6 – Palm Sunday, 2017

Matthew 26:14-27:66

Marian Free

In the name of God, who overlooks our faults and who restores us again and again so that we can take our part in the story. Amen.

In the latest issue of Liturgy News David Kirchhoffer reflects on the nature of sainthood. He reminds us that sainthood is not a matter of one-size fits all and that there is no simple definition that incorporates the diversity among those whom his tradition elevates to the status of saint or martyr[1]. “They all have stories, “ he comments, “their own all-too-human stories. Among the saints there are emperors and paupers, young and old, ascetics and hedonists, masters and slaves, colonizers and colonized, reformers and conservatives, and certainly more than one who, by today’s standards, probably experienced some sort of psychological disorder.” David’s point is that rather than being “shown up” by the saints, we actually find ourselves in very good company. The people who are deemed to be most holy by the church are as human and as flawed as the rest of us. Rather than making us feel inadequate and unworthy, the lives of the saints remind us that they are not so very different from us and that our faltering efforts to be holy and faithful are in fact good enough.

If we are in any doubt as to God’s ability to overlook our deficiencies, we need look no further than this morning’s gospel, which among other things is a tale of the whole world’s being at cross purposes with God. It is not only the chief priests and elders and the Roman authorities who try to destroy Jesus and his mission. It is those in Jesus’ immediate circle – his disciples and friends – who hand him over to the authorities, misunderstand their role, sleep when Jesus most needs their support, desert him, deny him and leave him alone to face trial and death.

Of course, not all of the characters in this account are numbered among the saints, but twelve of the those in the drama are Jesus’ most intimate friends, those with whom he has shared the highs and lows of his mission, those whom he has authorized to preach and teach and heal and those whom he has prepared to continue on his work after he has gone. These are the men with whom Jesus has chosen to spend what may be his last night on earth, those with whom he will share the most significant evening on the Jewish calendar. Without exception each of the twelve will let Jesus down before the night is out and yet Jesus refuses to condemn them or to exclude even Judas from the company.

Judas, who, even before the preparations for the dinner had begun, had received thirty pieces of silver to hand Jesus over to the authorities. Judas who, when Jesus announces at the meal that one of the disciples will hand him over, reveals what it is that sets him apart from the other disciples[2]. Whereas the eleven address Jesus as “Lord”, Judas addresses Jesus only as“Rabbi” (teacher). Jesus knows that it is Judas who will hand him over to the authorities and yet when he says: “Take eat, this is my body”, he places the bread in Judas’ hands. When he says: “This is my blood of the new covenant, poured out for the forgiveness of sins,” Judas is not excluded from the covenant or from the promise of forgiveness.

Jesus knows that despite Peter’s protestations to the contrary, Peter will deny him – not once but three times. Even so Peter too is given the bread and the wine – Jesus’ body and Jesus’ blood. Of the eleven who remain with Jesus after the meal, not one will find the strength to stay awake with Jesus even though Jesus has shared with them that he is “grieved unto death”. Still, on this, his last night on earth, Jesus will share with them his very self and he will do so lovingly, not reproachfully, with grace and not with disappointment. Jesus knows their limitations. Before it comes to pass he knows how each will respond to the events of the night but he does not abandon them as they will abandon him.

Of these twelve, men who made promises that they failed to keep, all but Judas are included among the saints. Far from being ideals of holiness, courage and piety they are revealed as men who have feet of clay, who put their own safety before their loyalty to Jesus and who flee at the first sign of danger. They have said that they would die with Jesus but they cannot even stay awake, let alone accompany him on the journey to the cross.

Betrayal, abandonment and even opposition are the tools that God uses to turn arrest, false accusations, torture and death into something extraordinary and marvelous – Jesus’ resurrection, the defeat of death. Even though by human standards the disciples have failed not only as disciples but also as friends, they are not censured, punished or rejected. After the resurrection, it is as if God had not even noticed their cowardice, their desire for self-preservation and their failure to keep their word. Instead of condemning them for their lack of loyalty and their abandonment of Jesus, God not only restores and elevates them and gives to them the task of taking up what Jesus has been forced to leave off – preaching the good news of the kingdom.

As God overlooked the flaws and inadequacies of the disciples so too God will overlook our weaknesses, our lack of self-confidence and our tentative efforts to serve.

Though we lose faith in God, God will never lose faith in us, but will raise us up time and time again so that we too will have our place in God’s on-going story.

 

[1] Liturgy News is a publication of the Roman Catholic of Brisbane.

[2] I am indebted to Judith Jones whose commentary on the gospel was challenging and insightful. http://www.workingpreacher.or

A matter of love

March 19, 2016

Palm Sunday – 2016

Luke 22: -23:

Marian Free

 

A matter of love

May God whose love for us knows no bounds, free us from all those things that prevent us from accepting that love. Amen.

Love is an extraordinary motivator. It can enable people to go to extraordinary lengths to make a difference for those whom they love. Parents of children with severe handicaps invest hours of their time and all their financial resources to not only ensure that their child has the best quality of life that is possible, but also to defy the medical staff who have advised them that the child has no future. Siblings of cancer sufferers cycle around Australia or complete other such feats to raise awareness of the disease and raise funds for research. Husbands or wives refuse to turn off life support machines, believing that the one whom they love has a future.

The love and determination of a spouse means not only the difference between life and death, but also the difference between simply being alive and having some quality of life.  Only last week I read the account of a young woman Danielle. At just 23[1] Danielle had married the love of her life. Only months later her husband, Matt he seriously injured in a cycling accident. As well as numerous fractures, he had sustained a serious traumatic brain injury. A team of doctors advised Danielle to turn off his life support.

Danielle trusted the doctors and thought she would agree to end Matt’s life. After a sleepless night she thought: “Matt is my husband. If he stays in a coma, of if he needs looking after for the rest of his life, I will be the one taking care of him.” Instead of conceding that the doctor’s were right, Danielle knew if a flash that she could do it. She felt that God was telling her to take a chance, that this was her path in life. Danielle was not going to let Matt die. That was 2011. What followed was a battle to bring Matt out of the coma, battles with the medical staff who wanted to put him into a nursing home and twenty four hour care, once she got him to her mother’s home. Caring for Matt meant changing nappies, checking feeding tubes, giving sponge baths, administering up to 20 different medications, turning Matt every two hours and single handedly doing all the physical therapy that was required.

Danielle’s journey is a long way from over and Matt may never be the same, but he sings to Danielle and writes her poems and tells her every day that he loves her.

As is the case with Danielle, the cost of love is often enormous – emotionally, financially and in terms of the time that is involved. Yet the lover (parent, sibling, friend) thinks nothing of that, only of ensuring that their beloved is loved and cared for, has the best life that is possible in the circumstances and that they know that they have not been abandoned.

This Lent, it has seemed to me that the readings have focused on love – God’s boundless, unconditional love for all of humanity. We have seen that God reaches out for us in love, refusing to give up on us no matter how much we disappoint, frustrate and even enrage God.  God does not/cannot stop loving even when we blindly go our own way, when we put up barriers between ourselves and God’s love or when we behave in ways that are damaging to ourselves or to others. God’s love for us is a love that never gives up, no matter how broken or beyond repair we might be and it is a love that never counts the cost.

Today and throughout this week, we will witness God’s love played out in Jesus’ journey to the cross. We cannot know what was going through Jesus’ head when he set out for Jerusalem or when he incurred the wrath of the Jewish leaders by entering the city as a King, by challenging their views and by being high-handed in the Temple. What we do know is that at any point Jesus could have turned back. At any point, Jesus could have decided that it was all too hard and simply given up. At any point, Jesus could have chosen to do what was right for him, rather than what might be right for others.

But as relentlessly as the forces of evil lined up against him, Jesus doggedly continued on the path that was before him, the path that would ensure death for him and life for the world.

This is the ultimate demonstration of God’s love for us – God, in Jesus entering our world and pouring out love and compassion on an ungrateful world. God demonstrates God’s love for us in Jesus’ giving himself completely to and for us – doing whatever it would take to enable us to live our lives as fully as we possibly can.

God cannot and will not stop loving us. It remains for us to accept that we are loved and to discover that it is only by surrendering to God’s love that we will find fulfillment, freedom and peace. It remains for us to abandon ourselves to God and to thereby see that it is only in God we have all that we want or need.

[1] Reported in the latest Marie Claire Australia magazine (April 16, 2016, p104-106).

Jesus – troublemaker, rabble-rouser, agitator

March 28, 2015

Palm Sunday – 2015

Mark 14:1-15-27

Marian Free

In the name of God risk taker, trouble-maker, agitator. Amen.

The last decade has seen the rise of all kinds of popularist movements. We have witnessed reactions against dictatorial governments in the Arab world and against unpopular governments such as in Myanmar. In Hong Kong people took to the streets to challenge the direct influence of China in local affairs. Elsewhere we have seen protests break out in India as a consequence of the gang rape of a young woman and in Afghanistan women have risked their lives protesting the lynching of a young woman in the presence of police officers. In the United States there have been riots in response to the apparently needless slaying of young black men (and also when two police officers were murdered). I’m sure that you can all think of many other examples.

The response of governments and law and order agencies to such events depends on a number of things – how much they feel that they or the stability of their country is threatened, how much international pressure is brought to bear on the situation, whether or not they think they can wait out the protests, and whether they think that the reactions of the crowds might be justified.

Too often, movements that are violently suppressed prove in hindsight to have spoken the truth. Too often, those who challenge the establishment give their lives for a cause that later is proven to be both right and just. The problem for all of us (not just our governments) is that agitators make us feel uncomfortable, they challenge the status quo, they make us question ourselves and our motives, they unsettle our notions of right and wrong and they threaten our lifestyle.

The government and law enforcement agencies might be the forces that contain protest and rebellion, but every citizen, by their silence or failure to act, is complicit in the repression (sometimes violent) of those who challenge the established way of seeing the world. Often it is only in retrospect that many of us are able to see that those who fought for change were in fact fighting for the greater good and that the world is better for their courage and their ability to both see and tell the truth. The list of such people is endless. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Martin Luther King, Oscar Romero, Steve Biko and countless others saw clearly the evils of their time and were not afraid to name them. Each of them was seen as a threat to the establishment and the established way of life and each paid for their vision and their courage with their lives.

When Jesus entered Jerusalem his actions, and those of the crowds, caused consternation among the religious leader of the time. After all they were responsible for keeping the peace. The privileges that the Jews enjoyed and their freedom to practice their religion were dependent on submission to the rule of Rome. Jesus’ actions seemed designed to provoke a reaction from the crowds, and the crowds, filled with expectation at his coming, were throwing caution to the wind. It really is little surprise that his actions brought him into a direct collision with the authorities and that those same authorities conspired together to find some way to rid themselves of him.

Jesus challenged the willingness of the religious leaders to submit to Rome, he condemned the corruption of the Temple cult and he took the side of those who were marginalised and excluded. He saw that things could be different; that the ancient Hebrew faith could be practiced with integrity and that the community in which he lived could be more inclusive, more tolerant and more loving. Such changes were too threatening to those who were used to their positions of privilege and power.

Jesus saw clearly how things could be and was not afraid to name it, no matter the cost. His clear-sightedness and courage were confronting and unsettling and in the end both the ruling authorities and the crowds rejected his message and saw him put to death. Jesus was not a good man, a comfortable man, a man who was easy to be around. He was an agitator and a rabble-rouser who, because he was a risk to the stability of the state, was put to death.

The lessons of two thousand years ago continue to challenge us.

Can we tell the difference between troublemakers and truth-tellers? Do we respond to the voice of the prophets or do we suppress and reject those voices that cause us disquiet? Are we able to tell the difference between trouble-makers and truth-tellers or are complicit in the rejection and repression of truth? Are we willing to stand with Jesus – to the death if required – or will we, like the fickle crowds, turn against him when the cost of following becomes too high?

Standing out from the crowd

April 12, 2014

Palm Sunday – 2014

Matthew 26:14-27:66

Marian Free

In the name of God who challenges us to discern right from wrong and to have the courage to stand out from the crowd. Amen.

Anyone who has ever been to a concert or a sporting match knows that it does not take long to snap into sync with the crowd. Being part of a group can be extraordinarily compelling and energising. The sense of sharing a common interest holds together people who are very different from each other and causes them behave as one.

Crowds are notoriously difficult to control – in part because of this sense of unity and in part because as a result, they take on a life of their own. In many instances – especially in the case of spontaneously formed crowds – the group morphs into a self-organizing system. There is no need for central control – the common purpose holds them together. In the case of a sporting event or concert, there is no one with a megaphone saying “now!” Everyone simply cheers (or boos) together. They know instinctively how to behave. They are absorbed into the behaviour of the crowd and act as one. Even when a crowd has a leader, a crowd mentality can take over making the leader powerless – for example, surging forward despite being urged to stop or rioting when the intention was a peaceful protest.

Crowds can be sinister or positive. It is easier to be brave (or foolish) when you know that you are acting in a manner that is consistent with those around you. Being part of a group creates a feeling of solidarity, a feeling of empowerment, a belief that the many can make a greater difference than one. Being part of a crowd can be also liberating and disinhibiting. The sense of anonymity, the adrenaline rush provided by being in a crowd can provide just the excuse for someone to behave in a lawless manner, when at other times public opinion (or their own conscience) would prevent them from doing the same thing.

A crowd can work together for good – changing an unjust government or law or cleaning up after a natural disaster. But a crowd can just as easily work for bad. Crowds can turn ugly in a moment. The same mentality that had a group protesting peacefully can be turned into the opposite by the action of a few. Crowds can determine the fate of a nation, but they can just as easily decide the fate of an individual.

It can be difficult to hold one’s position, to be the person standing out from the crowd, the one shouting: “stop!”, when everyone else is shouting: “go!” Only truly courageous people have the courage to act unilaterally – to go against the flow, to stand up for a principle or ideal when no one else can yet see the need.

It is not surprising that crowds were drawn to Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem. That he was on a donkey was calculated to attract attention. According to Zechariah, this was how the promised King would arrive. No doubt some people noticed and, thinking the prophecy fulfilled began to gather and cheer. Soon others would have joined. As the excitement built, more and more people would have wanted to be part of the excitement (perhaps so they could tell their grandchildren that they had been there). It is not surprising that the Romans and the leaders of the Jews were anxious – they knew from bitter experience how little it took for a crowd to become a riot.

It is not surprising that after Jesus’ arrest, the crowds gathered to see what would happen next. Many would have been wondering who Jesus really was and whether – if he were the King – he would find a way out of the predicament in which he found himself. Moreover, for those who have little to look forward to, a trial breaks the monotony of everyday life. It has the potential to create drama and intrigue and the outcome is never certain. Once a crowd had gathered, it could be easily manipulated. The chief priest (or others) would not have found it too difficult to incite the crowd to shout: “Barabbas” or “crucify him!” Those who did not want to join in would have found it hard to remain silent.

Because we know the story, it is easy to believe that we would have behaved differently, that we would have resisted the pressure of the crowd, and that – heedless of the consequences – we would have taken a stand to prevent an innocent person condemned to death. However, there is no reason to believe that we would have behaved any differently, that, in the circumstances we would have found the courage to stand-alone against a crowd.

Let us hope that we will not be put to the test and that if we are, we will not be found wanting.