Archive for the ‘Trust’ Category

Jumping out of the boat – earning salvation or being ourselves

August 12, 2023

Pentecost 11 – 2023
Matthew 14:22-33
Marian Free

In the name of God who comes to us on stormy waters and gives us reassurance and peace. Amen.

[“Drop thy still dews of quietness till all our strivings cease, take from our soul the strain and stress. and let our ordered lives confess, the beauty of thy peace, the beauty of thy peace.”]

How we read the bible is fascinating. For example, generations of Christians have used today’s gospel as a guide (albeit negative) to discipleship. The disciples are terrified (not by the storm, but by the appearance of Jesus and Peter, even though Jesus has identified himself, put him to the test: “If it is you command me to come to you on the water,” he says. Then, when Jesus commands Peter to “come”, Peter demonstrates how little he trusts him. Having begun well, Peter notices the waves and begins to sink. The lesson, we suppose, is that we are not to be like Peter – Peter the impetuous, Peter the foolish, Peter the doubter. In order to prove that we are good disciples, we will demonstrate that we trust God sufficiently to leave the boat to walk on stormy waters – to take risks confident that God will come to our rescue. Good Christians do not falter like Peter when storms rage all around us, we hold fast to our faith, confident that God is with us.

Too often we fall into the trap of making the scriptures a rule book for Christian behaviour – a guide as to how we should behave, what our response to God should be, what will happen if we do the wrong thing and how we measure up against the standard required to achieve salvation. In other words, our tendency is to read scriptures as if they are all about us, rather than understanding that scripture is a revelation about God. Such an attitude makes us inward looking, focused on what we do for God rather than what God does for us.

If today’s gospel is about discipleship, the implication is that discipleship requires unquestioning faith, courage and fortitude – not fear, doubt and indecision. In the face of the disciple’s terror and Peter’s mistrust, we are left feeling that we have to prove ourselves, that we have to behave in a certain way if we want to earn Jesus’ approval. After all no one wants to earn Jesus’ approbation: “You of little faith.” Yet the disciples are anything but models for Christian living and they certainly don’t provide an example for us to emulate. Rather than being exemplars of faith, they reveal their uncertainty, and their fear. They do not recognise Jesus, they are terrified, and Peter puts Jesus to the test. What they are however is real – their humanity and their imperfections are obvious.

So, perhaps this is not a story about how to be disciples and is not urging us to trust Jesus and leave the safety of the boat. In which case, what is Matthew’s intention and what Matthew’s listeners hear that we do not?

It is important to remember that the first century was an oral culture. Most people could not read, and scrolls were rare and beyond the income of most people. Community stories and stories from the Bible would have been repeated so often that they were committed to memory. Matthew’s community might not have known chapter and verse, but they will have known their scriptures well enough to have recognised allusions to the Old Testament even if they could not tell you exactly where it came from. Such would have been the case with regard to today’s gospel. Hearing that Jesus went to them, walking on the sea, Matthew’s listeners will have heard references to the role of God in creation as depicted in the Book of Job where God “tramples the waves of the sea” (9:8) and challenges Job asking if he ever “went upon the springs of the sea or walked on the recesses of the deep” (Job 38:16). They will have drawn the conclusion that Matthew was making the claim that Jesus and God were one.
That conclusion would have been reinforced when Jesus addresses the terrified disciples saying: “Do not be afraid. I AM.” Matthew’s community will have recognised, “Do not be afraid”, as the first thing a divine messenger says when interacting with a human (Gen 15:1, 26:24 eg). Jesus is more than a messenger he is I AM. The Greek – εγω ειμι – is clumsy, so our English translations read: “It is I”, but the Greek is simply I AM. Jesus is using for himself the name by which God identifies himself to Moses: “I AM.” The disciples affirm that this scene is about the nature of Jesus when they state: “Truly you are Son of God.”

At the heart of today’s gospel is a revelation about the nature Jesus. It is not a guidebook on Christian living, but it does after all have something positive to say about discipleship.

Discipleship, as this account reminds us, is about being ourselves – with all our flaws, our fears, and our doubts. Discipleship is not about striving to do good works, trying to be better people, or struggling to earn God’s approval. Discipleship has nothing to do with earning our salvation and everything to do with accepting that God in Jesus has already wrought our salvation. Discipleship means being in relationship with the living God who, though we did nothing to deserve it, lived with and died for us.

When we understand this, we can see that Peter and the other disciples in the boat were in fact model disciples, not because they were perfect, but because they were perfectly themselves, perfectly willing to have their humanity exposed and perfectly open to the revelation that Jesus was/is God.

We don’t have to jump out of the boat, we don’t have to take risks of faith, we simply have to be ourselves and allow God to do the rest.

Get over yourselves – be as a mustard seed

October 1, 2022

Pentecost 17 – 2022
Luke 17:5-10
Marian Free

In the name of God – Source of all being, Word of Life, Holy Spirit. Amen.

Apparently the Danish theologian Soren Kierkegaard said that “we need to forget all Christian language for 100 years”. It is a radical statement, but one that deserves to be taken seriously. There are so many “givens” that we now take for granted – especially when it comes to our biblical texts – that we are in danger of losing the original meaning of a text or of reading into a text what we expect to be there, rather than being open to what is actually there. Starting with a clean slate (abandoning inherited interpretations) would provide an opportunity to see our faith and our texts with fresh eyes and to glean a new – more accurate – understanding.

Today’s gospel provides one such example of the way in which we have read things into the text or used a text for our own purposes. This is because a) we approach the text from a particular viewpoint and b) because the literal translation of the Greek doesn’t immediately make sense.

The gospel this evening consists of two apparently unrelated texts – a demand for faith on the part of the disciples followed by Jesus’ example of the relationship between slaves and masters. Examining these texts anew and without the baggage of our existing understanding shows them to be closely related and makes it clear that they are less about the amount of faith one has and more about a life of faith as servants of God.

A traditional interpretation of our text is that if only we had enough faith, we could do astonishing – if extremely odd – feats. Doing the extraordinary – uprooting and re-planting mulberry trees, healing the sick or turning water into wine – has become, at least for some, a benchmark of the degree of faith that one has. Behind this is an assumption that faith is somehow quantifiable, something that we can measure, a benchmark that we should aim to reach. The implication is that it is possible to have too little faith, or that faith and the performing of miracles are intimately related.

Three things argue against this interpretation.

First is the context. The disciples’ demand to have their faith added to follows Jesus’ instruction to forgive. (Forgiveness might be miraculous, but it has nothing to do with the moving of mulberry trees.)

A second argument against the idea that Jesus’ saying has to do with the amount of faith one has is revealed by an examination of Greek text. When we do that, we discover that the translators have done what they often do – they have added words. This is because it seems to them that the original text needs additional words in order to make sense. The presumption seems to be – if the disciples have asked Jesus to add to their faith, Jesus response must be related to the size of their faith – which is what the NRSV English translation suggests. “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” The Greek however says nothing about the size of a mustard seed. A literal translation of the sentence is: “If you had faith as a mustard seed.” Our translators have replaced “as” with “the size of” probably because the idea of a mustard seed having faith presents its own difficulties!

Finally, the fact that the author of the gospel has paired Jesus’ saying about the mustard with the example of the master and slave, suggests that his intention was that we read the two sayings together. Jesus’ example is image from everyday life with which Luke’s readers would have been familiar. In the highly structured culture of the first century, each person fulfilled their assigned role with no expectation that they would be singled out for praise simply for doing what they were meant to do. This interpretation is further strengthened when our attention is drawn to another translation issue.

The final line of Jesus’ example is translated as: “So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’” Behind this assumption is the view that slaves would be self-deprecating, or worse that the early Christians (whom we assume to be the slaves) think of themselves as having little value in God’s (the master’s) eyes. We see Jesus’ example quite differently when it is pointed out that the word translated as “worthless” is actually the negative of the word “need”. The sentence could just as easily read: “we are slaves without need.” In other words, the slaves do not need to be thanked for carrying out their role because fulfilling their role is sufficient reward.

In the light of these three points – context, translation, and pairing – it becomes clear that Jesus is not childing the disciples for their lack of faith, rather he is chastising
them for imagining that faith is a commodity – something that can be owned, measured and used. A mustard seed has no choice except to fulfill the purpose for which it was created. A slave has little choice but to do what their master requires. Jesus seems to be encouraging the disciples to be satisfied with fulfilling the purpose for which they were created and with living out their God-given vocation.

He might just as well be saying: “Get over yourselves! Faith is not something to possess but a state of being – in relationship with God and in relationship with others. Be happy with who you are. Live out your vocation faithfully. Trust God to work in and through you and get on with living.”

Jesus says: “Have faith as a mustard seed.” “Be content with the person that you were created to be.”
Our response might be: “We are slaves without need.” “We will live our lives faithfully, allowing ourselves to be used for God’s purpose rather than striving to be what we are not.”

Order and chaos

August 29, 2020

Pentecost 13 – 2020

Matthew 16:16-21

Marian Free

In the name of God who shatters our certainly and our preconceptions and who continually reforms us in God’s image. Amen.

In his daily reflections over the past three weeks, Richard Rohr has been examining the theme of Order, Disorder and Reorder.[1] He writes: ‘It seems quite clear that we grow by passing beyond some perfect Order, through an often painful and seemingly unnecessary Disorder, to an enlightened Reorder or resurrection. This is the universal pattern that connects and solidifies our relationships with everything around us.’ Rohr argues that this pattern is found in all the world religions. In Christianity this pattern is expressed/lived out in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus or in Paul’s confidence that “in Christ everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” (2 Cor 5:17) or that we must be “transformed by the renewal of our minds” (Rom 12:2). 

It is impossible to live in a world in which everything is constantly changing, in which our footing never seems secure. We all need some stability and consistency if we are to develop trust and confidence, if we are to build a sense of self and to grow. Thankfully a great many of us have that experience as children and adolescents. The problem is that a sense of order and security can be so comfortable that some of us never want to leave it. A few people stay in a state of perpetual childhood, terrified of facing the real world. Others put up strong defences to protect them from hurtful or damaging experiences. Still others rigidly hold on to “truths” learned when they were young even though all the evidence proves them to be lies. By surrounding themselves with a safety net, many people avoid pain, but they also deny themselves the opportunity to grow and to experience the richness that life has to offer – love/loss, achievement/failure, order/chaos and so on.

In a spiritual sense as well, holding on to the past can be both stultifying and life-denying. A reliance on order and security can lead to an over-dependence on self or on worldly things such as wealth, recognition or power. It is only when that sense is unsettled or disturbed that that dependence can be broken, and (ideally) a person is forced to turn once again to God and to those things that really matter – the things of the kingdom. In the same way a failure to more from the simplistic teachings of our Sunday School days leaves us ill-equipped to face the complexities of the world. (How many people have lost their faith because the image of God brought over from their childhood failed them as adults?)

I have found these past three weeks of reflections particularly useful for two reasons. One is that they have nicely complemented my reflections on the gospel readings for those weeks and the second is that of course, the pattern of Order, Disorder and Reorder perfectly fits the current situation in which certainty and security have been stripped from all of us. Thanks to COVID few of us have control over our lives in the way that we used to and many of us are wondering what the future will look like. None of us know how, let alone when, the virus will leave us. In this situation – brought upon us by external circumstances that affect the whole world – not many have the capacity or the tools to predict, let alone determine our futures.

It is perhaps not surprising that the movement from order through disorder to reordering is reflected in our gospel readings for this same period. After all the theme of life, death and resurrection lies at the heart of the gospels. 

On August 16 we heard once again the account of the Canaanite woman who changed Jesus’ mind. She challenged Jesus’ long-held convictions of right and wrong, about who belongs and who does not. Jesus’ inherited beliefs were challenged, shattered and replaced. Through this process Jesus’ understanding that his ministry was only for the house of Israel was torn apart and replaced by a view that the gospel was for all people. 

Last week Peter, in response to Jesus’ question, “Who do you say that I am?” responds that Jesus is “the Christ, the Son of the Living God”. However, today’s gospel makes it quite clear that despite his declaration, he has no idea what this really means. His understanding of “the Christ” has been determined by the teachings of the synagogue and the community in which he lived. Even though he was the first disciple to be called and has been a part of Jesus’ inner-circle, Peter’s views and expectations have not been shattered to the point at which he is able to relinquish the past and envision a new sort of future. As we can see, the idea that the Christ might suffer is completely abhorrent to Peter – so much so that he tries to dissuade Jesus from this trajectory.  (In fact, Peter’s determination that things stay the way that they have always been is tenacious. His thinking will not change until he is completely unmade by his denial of Jesus.)

Life does not always run smooth. Its ups and downs will, if we let them, build us into people of compassion, wisdom and resilience. 

Jesus does not promise us that discipleship will spare us from trouble, pain or sorrow. Just the opposite. Jesus asks his disciples to give up everything that until now has given their lives meaning – family, occupation, reputation and he tells them that they must take up their cross if they are to follow him. In return he offers them only the hope of a kingdom that they cannot see and which they do not as yet understand. 

As disciples of Christ, we are challenged to place our trust not in the comfort, security and safety of the values of this world, but to open ourselves to the abundant love of God and to trust that in following Jesus we will be enriched and rewarded in ways far beyond our ability to comprehend.

At this time, we can (and often will) look back to the ways things have been, but the lesson of the gospels is that our lives will be far more productive if we can let go of the past and make our first tentative steps into whatever it is that the future will be. 


[1] You can sign up for the daily meditations on the CAC website.

Trust and doubt

December 19, 2015

Advent 4 – 2015

Luke 3:39-45

Marian Free

In the name of God who inspires our trust. Amen.

I once saw a sign outside a church that read: “When all else fails pray!” At first it took me aback, then I realised that it was an accurate description of the relationship that some of us have with God. Maybe I am speaking just for myself, but I suspect that I am not the only person who tends to rely on my own resources first and remember God second. On a day-to-day basis, I think that I place my trust in God. I certainly believe that God directs my life and that I don’t have to be concerned about the future. However, I have to admit that there are times, especially in times of crisis, when my first reaction is to think of solutions rather than to commit the situation to prayer and trust that God will provide me with an answer.

How far do you trust God? Do rely too much on your own resources or do you have complete confidence in God? Or – do you like most of us – vacillate between complete and utter trust and an anxiety that if we don’t do it ourselves nothing will happen. Most of us have a deep trust that God is with us, but that doesn’t meant that there are not times when we act on our own.

In this tension between trust and doubt we are not alone. Abraham left everything to set out on a crazy journey to a place that he had never heard of, led by a God who was not the God of his fathers. Yet he did not trust God to fulfill the promise of a son and took matters into his own hands. The people of Israel followed Moses into the wilderness only to waver when they got to the Promised Land. Elijah, who put to shame the priests of Baal, had moments when he thought that God had abandoned him. John the Baptist who, we are told, saw the Spirit descend on Jesus, still needed to ask Jesus if he was the one to come. The disciples, who at first so readily followed Jesus, had times of doubt – most visibly demonstrated by their absence at Jesus’ trial and crucifixion and their lack of direction after his death.

Few of us it seems are able to completely let go and let God, few of us are able to surrender ourselves entirely into God’s care. At some points in our lives we find ourselves wanting to take control. We pray: “Your will be done” and then exercise our own will.

Part of the eternal struggle is our unwillingness to trust God and our determination to go our own way. We wonder why the world is as it is, yet fail to see that time and again, we take over instead of allowing God to take charge of world affairs. The story of Eden is played out every day as human being compete with God for control as our desire for independence leads to decisions that have disastrous consequences – for ourselves and for others. When Abraham and Sarah took things into their own hands, it had disastrous consequences for themselves and for Hagar and Ishmael. When the Israelites were too afraid to trust God to lead them into the Promised Land, they sentenced themselves to forty more years in the wilderness. When Peter didn’t accept that Jesus had to suffer, he was accused of being Satan. When we take things into our own hands, it can lead to disastrous consequences. When we act on our own behalf we interfere with and subvert God’s plans for us, we delay fulfillment of God’s promise and damage our relationship with God and very often with those around us. When we fail to place our trust completely in God, we prevent God from directing our lives in ways that lead to contentment and peace, for ourselves and for the world.

Trust exists when one person is willing to rely on another to the extent that they abandon control over the actions performed by the other and thereby risk a certain amount of uncertainty with regard to the outcome[1]. Trusting in God means handing over control and accepting that even though things don’t go the way we hope, God will be with us in the process and God will see us through to the end.

In Mary we have one example of trust outweighing doubt. Mary was deeply disturbed, agitated even by the angel’s announcement to her and her response was to challenge and to question how such a thing might be possible. Yet despite her fear and anxiety, Mary was able to stifle her incredulity and to accept not only that she would have a child, but that somehow in her conservative, closed society that God would find a way to protect both herself and her child.

Mary’s trust was not without cost. Almost from the beginning she had to let go of her promised son. Jesus caused anxiety by staying behind in Jerusalem to dialogue with the priests. On another occasion, he refused to see her claiming that those who believed were his mother, his sisters and his brothers, and all the time in the back of her mind is Simeon’s prophecy that: “a sword will pierce your own soul.” Finally, Mary has to accept and endure Jesus’ conviction and crucifixion.

Like us, Mary could not read God’s mind. When she said: “yes” to God, she did not know where it would lead her. She did not know that Joseph would still marry her, she did not realise that parenting her child would be painful and difficult, she could not have imagined that God would allow her son to suffer a slow and agonizing death and she certainly could not have imagined Jesus’ resurrection and the movement that grew up following his death and resurrection.

Like Mary, we cannot read God’s mind. We do not know what God has in store for us. We will, like her, have moments of uncertainty and doubt. But through it all we can be sure of one thing, that if only we hold fast to God’s promise, if only we have the courage to surrender ourselves entirely to God, not only will our lives work out for the better, but our very surrender to God will contribute to the salvation of the world and the coming of God’s kingdom.

[1] A paraphrase from Wikipedia.

Reconciled to God and to one another

April 13, 2013

Easter 3. 2013

John 21:1-19

Marian Free

In the name of God, who in Jesus, redeems us and sets us free from all our sins. Amen.

One of the most extraordinary things associated with the end of apartheid in South Africa was the establishment of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Instead of seeking retribution and/or reparation for the events of the past, the new government committed itself to a process of listening to the stories, the pain and the hurt of the past and trying to bring about healing rather than creating further division. Perhaps the most courageous aspect of this process was the commitment to those who had carried out atrocities that they would not be prosecuted if they came forward and told the truth.

If you have the stomach for a harrowing experience, I suggest that you watch the movie, Red Dust. In it a former South African police officer, Dirk Hendriks, wants to confess to the torture and beating of Alex Mpondo – a member of Parliament. Alex is anxious about testifying. It means reliving the horror and dealing with the death of his friend Steve. When the trial starts, Hendriks accuses him of denouncing Steve, which causes his own community to abandon him. Alex is sure he did not betray his friend, but his memory is not sufficiently clear nor can he produce evidence to prove his version of events

Hendrik’s former boss, Piet Muller, wants to ensure that only a sanitised account is made known so that he is not implicated in the events. He has a vested interest in discrediting Alex.

So we watch as Alex finds the courage to testify and to re-live the experience of his own torture and the agony of having to watch his friend’s horrendous suffering and death. We are indignant when we discover that Alex’s version of events cannot be supported by other evidence and when his fellow ANC members turn against him. We are relieved when his account is proven to be true. We witness the grief and relief of Steve’s mother as her son’s remains are recovered and she acknowledges that he is indeed dead.

The story doesn’t end there. When Muller realises that his part in Alex’s torture and Steve’s death has been exposed, he makes the decision to protect himself by confessing. In order for this to work, Alex has to allow the process to proceed. Alex is furious. He can see that Muller is only protecting himself. He cannot bear the thought that this man will walk free despite the atrocities he has committed. Gradually, Alex works through his anger, his need for retribution and reparation and he comes to the decision that he must let go of the past no matter how unpalatable that decision may be. He comes to the understanding that withholding his cooperation will solve nothing so he allows the process to continue.

Of course, I don’t know how well the process has worked overall, but from a Christian perspective it seems to me that it is a more positive (if extraordinarily painful) way to deal with conflict resolution especially on a personal, neighbourhood or national level. If the perpetrators of violent acts can acknowledge what they have done and if the victims can find the strength to surrender their need to have their suffering validated by the punishment of the other it just might be possible to find a way to escape the cycle of retribution and violence that keeps some conflicts going.

Our sense of justice is finely honed, but storing up bitterness, anger and hatred does no one any good. Vengeance does not lead to reconciliation or to the restoration of relationships. That is not to say that the perpetrators of abuse should not be held accountable or that crimes and misdeeds should simply be overlooked. Unacceptable behaviour remains unacceptable and must be named as such and it must not be allowed to continue. On the other hand, no matter how insincere a person’s “confession” might be, any admission of wrong doing means that their behaviour is exposed and they can no longer pretend to be what they are not. The past is laid open for others to judge.

The scale is different, but accountability and restoration feature in today’s gospel.

Despite having said that he will follow Jesus to death, Peter has denied Jesus not once but three times. Confronted with Jesus’ arrest, Peter has revealed that he was not as courageous as he had thought he would be. Even though he followed Jesus’ progress through the court system, Peter did not want to be identified as one of Jesus’ followers. Having promised complete and total loyalty, he lacked the courage to stand up and be counted. He watched Jesus being unjustly condemned but did nothing to intervene

You would think, wouldn’t you, that such behaviour would be hard to forgive. You would understand if Jesus, having undergone the excruciating agony of crucifixion, might want to extract some sort of reparation from those who abandoned him. He would be justified in thinking that Peter should accept the consequences of his denial. In fact, it would not be surprising to us if Jesus had given Peter the cold shoulder and frozen him out of any further involvement in the movement.

Jesus however, acts in a way that is contrary to all our expectations. He does not confront Peter (or any of the other disciples for that matter) and accuse him (them) of cowardice, desertion and betrayal. He doesn’t demand recompense from Peter for his treachery, his abandoning him in his hour of need. He doesn’t make Peter prove his loyalty and demonstrate his commitment before they can be friends again. Instead he does what by human standards is almost unthinkable. Not only does he overlook what Peter has done, but he gives to Peter the preeminent role in the community. “Feed my lambs, shepherd my sheep.” Peter is commissioned to take over where Jesus left off. Peter, the deserter is to become Peter the leader

That does not mean that Peter is not held accountable for what he has done. His crime may not be named, but Jesus’ threefold request and Peter’s obvious discomfort are evidence that Peter is being asked to accept responsibility for his weakness and for the fact that he turned his back on his leader and his friend. Without having to make recompense, without being isolated, excluded and punished, Peter is restored to his place in the community, his place in Jesus’ affection and given new responsibility. History shows that Jesus’ confidence is not misplaced.

And this, brothers and sisters is the extraordinary thing about the God in whom we believe. We abandon and betray God, but God does not abandon us. We nail God to a cross and still God continues to trust in us. It is this, I hope – God’s love and trust in us, not the threat of punishment or the fear of the fires of hell – that makes us respond, that encourages us to behave in ways that deserve such confidence. Even at our worst, God sees the good in us. Let us do all that we can to live up to God’s faith in us.

A reason to party

March 9, 2013

Lent 4

Forgiving Father Luke 15:11-32

Marian Free

In the name of God whose love always welcomes us back. Amen.

Whenever the parable of the forgiving Father is read, more often than not I am told: “I really relate to the older brother!” This is a significant reaction and it tells us three things. One is that the sting in the parable has not been properly understood. A second is that it is very hard for most of us to let go of our egos. We are so bound up with concepts of fairness and judgement and we allow the injustices experienced in our past to dominate and determine our feelings in the present. The third is perhaps the most serious.  As the Father is clearly meant to represent God, our discomfort (resentment) at the treatment of the prodigal tells us something about our trust or lack of trust in God.

There are a number of differences between the two fictional sons. The older is sensible and responsible, willing to conform to societal and family norms and to work for his father until his father dies and passes his share of the property to him. We can imagine that, as a result, his life has had very few highs and lows. He has just gone about his business day by day secure in the knowledge that he has shelter, enough to eat and some sort of a future. He may even believe that he has all that he needs.

The younger brother is the opposite. He is reckless, irresponsible and impetuous. This son has no thought for centuries of tradition or for the respectability of his family. All he thinks about is himself. Half the property is due to him. His father can manage financially and otherwise without him. Why not take his share of the property now? Why not see the world and have adventures while he is still young enough to do so? Why submit himself to the humdrum of daily existence at home when the world has so much more to offer?

One stays and the other goes, with alarming consequences for both.  The younger son very quickly discovers that going it alone is not all that he had dreamed it would be. In a distant land, starving and condemned to feeding pigs he realises how good home really was. Having chosen adventure, he now longs for security. Aren’t his father’s servants better off than he is? What is he doing? Life as his father’s servant would be better than his present conditions. The humiliation of admitting that he was wrong, of confessing that he has squandered his inheritance and the shame of ending his days as a servant or slave are nothing compared to the degradation he is currently experiencing. He has sunk as low as it is possible to sink. Returning home cannot make him feel any worse.

The older son stays at home satisfied that he is doing the right thing. Possibly he even thinks that he is content. However, while his brother is away learning about the world, the older sibling has nothing to challenge his sense of security, nothing to force him to question whether he has made the right choice. He is relying on history and tradition to justify his position and, had his brother never come home, he might have remained smugly content, sure that he was the favoured son. After all, wasn’t he the one doing the right thing?

All the certainty of the older son is thrown into disarray when the younger son comes home. Instead of being met with censure and condemnation this wayward child is met with rejoicing! It is impossible for the older son to make sense of what is happening. His own certainly that he was doing what was right has not prepared him for something so totally unexpected. He has not learnt the lessons that his brother has been forced to learn. He has not descended to the place which has forced him to see his own short comings and to value what he does have, in particular his father’s love for him. He has based his decisions on a belief that his father needs him and has failed to realise his need for his father. His very “goodness” and his strict observance of societal norms have confirmed his sense of his own value and have ill-equipped him to understand either his brother, or his father’s reaction. His black and white view of right and wrong and his lack of self-knowledge will not allow him to move beyond conformity to compassion.

As we can see from the first few verses of chapter 15, Jesus is telling this parable against the Pharisees. Like the older son, they have relied on their observance of the Jewish tradition for their salvation. In doing so however they, like the older son, have lost sight of their dependence on God and on God’s grace. Instead of seeking a genuine relationship based on an honest view of themselves, they have developed some sort of replacement for a relationship based on formulas and rules. Their resultant self-assurance means that they have no reason to look beyond the surface of their lives to see that they are in fact self-righteous, judgemental, unforgiving and self-serving. They don’t understand that by hiding their real selves behind observance of rules and the keeping of traditions, they are not only limiting their growth, but they are also denying themselves an authentic relationship with God. At the same time, they are so used to measuring themselves against those who don’t measure up that they cannot comprehend that God might be able to have a more meaningful relationship with those who are more aware of and more readily acknowledge their imperfections. So it is with the older son.

Richard Rohr suggests that: “Sooner or later, if you are on any classic ‘spiritual schedule’, some event, person, death, idea, or relationship will enter your life that you simply cannot deal with, using your present skill set, your acquired knowledge, or your strong willpower. Spiritually speaking, you will be, you must be, led to the edge of your own spiritual resources.”[1] Sometimes, like the younger son, we need something to shake us out of our complacency, to help us to accept the love of God in our lives and to realise that ultimately nothing less than complete dependence on God will satisfy the longing of our souls. Until that point, we remain like the older son, limited to a superficial relationship with God, reliant on sterile observance of laws. We think that we have to earn God’s love and, blind to our own flaws and imperfections, we resent God’s generosity to others because we have not fully understood the generosity of God’s love for us.

The older son was not a bad person, just as the Pharisees were not bad Jews. Their mistake was a failure to understand that God’s love could not be bought by obeying rules and by observing traditions. They could not comprehend that it was in God’s nature to love and that as God loved them despite their shortcomings, so God loved all those who did not live up to their high standards. What the Pharisees and the older son simply did not understand is God’s love just cannot be bought. It is ours for free. It is when we truly comprehend how much our flawed, imperfect selves are loved by God that we understand God’s desire and right to extend that love to others. Knowing ourselves flawed and yet loved, lost and now found, we will be incapable of resentfully standing outside. Instead we will joyously and gratefully join in the celebrations, knowing that we ourselves are a cause for the party.


[1] Rohr, Richard. Falling Upwards: Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life. San Francisco: Jossey Bass, 2011, 65.

Contradiction

March 2, 2013

Lent 3 – 2013

Luke 13:31-35 (Isaiah 55:1-9, 1 Cor 10:1-13)

Marian Free

In the name of God who turns our expectations upside down, who challenges and comforts us and who never, ever withdraws God’s love. Amen.

When you read the Bible, what are the passages that stand out for you? Are you more alert for the voice of judgement or the voice of love? Do you look out for the rules that you must not break and the specific directions that you must follow, or do you instead seek out the promises of growth and new creation? From start to finish, the Bible is full of contradiction.  In it we find both censure and approval, judgement and forgiveness, punishment and redemption, restraint and extravagance.

The Old Testament prophets threaten the Israelites with all kinds of penalties if they refuse to return to God then, almost without taking breath, they assure the people that God will never abandon them. Side by side in Isaiah, Jeremiah and Hosea and elsewhere we have evidence of God’s frustration and confirmation of God’s faithfulness. The Gospels express similar contradictions. Calls to repent are balanced by stories of the lost being restored. Jesus’ attacks on the righteous throw into relief Jesus’ acceptance of those outside the law.

This morning’s readings are a case in point. The generosity and free-spirited invitation of Isaiah 55 stands in stark contrast with the harsh, judgmental and condemnatory sentiments of 1 Corinthians 10.

How are we to make sense of the paradox – judgement and repeal, condemnation and forgiveness, law and freedom? It is my belief that both sides of the coin are necessary to sustain healthy individuals, healthy societies and healthy religions. Freedom is essential for creative energy to thrive, for people to love and be loved, for compassion and generosity. None of these things can be forced or legislated. On the other hand, lawlessness leads to disintegration, violence and repression. Without some sort of law no one can achieve their full potential.

There needs to be some sort of balance between law and freedom.  It is not healthy to be completely unrestrained, but neither is it good to be so restrained that we forget how to live. If we fence ourselves in with rules, we reduce our ability to be spontaneous and carefree. Somewhere in the middle is an equilibrium, an ability to self-regulate, to use the rules and the threats of judgement to control our baser instincts and to trust in God’s goodness and mercy to liberate our finer, more selfless characteristics.

Interestingly, in the Bible, it is not disobedience or even the breaking of the Ten Commandments which is the source of God’s anger and the pre-condition for punishment. What causes the prophets to proclaim God’s judgement and Jesus to condemn the people of Israel is a breakdown in the relationship between the people and God.

God doesn’t expect perfection. That much is clear in God’s choice of Jacob the deceiver, God’s selection of Moses the murderer and God’s continued love for David the adulterer. That God is not looking for flawless followers is demonstrated by Jesus’ choice of disciples, Jesus’ readiness to forgive and Jesus’ easy acceptance of tax collectors and sinners.

It appears that the primary safeguard against condemnation is not so much to be law-abiding (though that is good), but to accept God’s invitation to be in relationship, to trust God’s offer of a covenant, to believe in God’s faithfulness to God’s promises.

Jesus weeps over Jerusalem, not because its citizens have failed to keep the law _ if nothing else, the Pharisees were assiduous keepers of the law.  Jesus weeps because the people of Jerusalem, the leaders of the Jews, have demonstrated their inability to put their trust in God. The Pharisees, Chief Priests and Scribes have put all their trust in the law and their ability to keep the law. They are so sure that they can achieve perfection by their own effort that they have effectively locked God out of their lives. They have so little confidence in God’s love and faithfulness that they are using the law to paper over their imperfections. They are so afraid that scrutiny will find them wanting that they kill the prophets who hold a mirror to them and to their lives. They cannot have a real relationship with God because they cannot have a real relationship with themselves.

No wonder Jesus weeps, he understands that the Jerusalemites are so sure that God cannot love them as they are, that they not only try to become what they are not, but worse, they shrink from God, they refuse God’s invitation and will not be drawn into God’s loving embrace.

How different they are from Zacchaeus who has the courage to respond to Jesus’ invitation and who finds that his life is transformed as a result. How different from the woman who anointed Jesus’ feet, who could take such a risk because instinctively she knew that she was loved and accepted. “Law-breakers” and outsiders who already knew and accepted their imperfections welcomed Jesus’ love and invitation, entered into a relationship and allowed themselves to be gathered under his wings.

Law and freedom together create a necessary life-giving tension in our relationship with God. An over-reliance on law can have the effect of locking God out of our lives whereas an over-emphasis on freedom can lead us to believe that we don’t need God. It is important to relish our freedom, but to understand its bounds, to trust in God’s unconditional love, but not to use that love as an excuse to be unloveable, to recognise that law has its place, but not to use it as a replacement for relationship.

God invites us into a relationship that is based on mutual trust and respect. God offers us an unconditional love that sets us free to be ourselves. To say “yes” to God, is to say “yes” to ourselves and to know ourselves welcome in the shadow of God’s wings.

 

 

 

 

 

What is truth?

November 24, 2012

The Reign Of Christ – 2012

John 18:38 What is truth?

 

Marian Free

 In the name of God, Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier who leads us into all truth. Amen.

I imagine that when most of us think about truth, we think about the truth, about firm facts and figures that remain constant over time. We believe that if we look hard enough we will discover some universal consistency, some shared knowledge or beliefs that are true for all people and in all situations. I’m not a philosopher, but I have learnt over time that it is not as easy as that.

So what is truth? The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy tells us that the question of truth has been debated for thousands of years. It states that truth is not only one of the central topics of philosophy, but also the largest. In fact the article claims that a “huge variety of issues in philosophy relate to truth” making truth a central platform of that discipline. Within philosophy itself there are a number of ways of looking at truth. For example, one way of determining truth is to determine whether or not a statement corresponds to a fact. The statement: “James walks” can be easily verified by the observation of James walking. Another way of looking at truth is to determine whether or not a set of beliefs is coherent. A set of beliefs which says that cows are four legged, milk producing mammals with different coloured hides that sometimes have three legs is not coherent and therefore not true. Cows cannot three legs and at the same time have four legs.

The Catholic Encyclopedia is no more helpful in its definition of truth. In fact  it could be argued that it is less helpful because it relates truth to God and God is a quantity that cannot be tied down. This site uses terms like ontological truth and logical truth and speaks of truth as being in the mind of God -as if the mind of God were something we could mine for facts about the world and about existence.

Another site, the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy – at least in its Google tag – uses John 18:38 from today’s gospel as evidence that the question of truth has been around for at least 2,000 years. The biblical reference proves to be a distraction because on inspection the site is just as difficult for the uninitiated as the former two. I leave it to the philosophers among you to explore the matter further. The point is that truth is not so easily described and prescribed as we might sometimes like to imagine – which makes John 18:38 particularly interesting.

Depending on where I am coming from at the time, I see Pilate’s question, “What is truth?”, as either cynical or poignant – cynical, because history tells us that Pilate was a cruel and insecure ruler or poignant because seen sympathetically, it is an expression of confusion and a desire to see and therefore respond more clearly to the situation before him. His question comes on the heels of Jesus’ self description – “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

We too might ask Pilate’s question – what is truth? In this complex and confusing world, sometimes it is difficult to separate the wheat from the chaff, the good from the bad, to know when we are protecting our own self interests and when we are establishing laws that protect the safety of all.

In John’s Gospel, “αλήθεια” – “truth” is used 29 times, significantly more than it is used in any other gospel. From the first chapter in which Jesus is described as full of “grace and truth”, through chapter 8 in which Jesus says, “you will know the truth and the truth will set you free” to the well known, “I am the way, the truth and the light”, truth is a consistent theme. Truth, according to the author of the gospel, relates to Jesus’ unity with God which allows him to be or to reveal what is true. Further it is the relationship between God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit which enables Jesus to promise that the Holy Spirit will lead believers in to the truth. Through the Trinity, Jesus’ claims, those who believe in him will know the truth and this knowledge will set apart those who belong to him from those who do not.

Having had a brief look at the way in which the philosophers define truth, it is interesting to consider the way in which it is used by the author of John’s gospel. Here the expression is used in a very particular way. “Truth” in the fourth gospel refers to right judgement – knowing truth from falsehood, distinguishing good from evil, being able, as God is, to make right judgements. When we understand this, it becomes easier to understand Pilate’s question.

Pilate’s dilemma was just this. He has been asked to make a judgement based, it would appear, on very little evidence and despite his reputation he seems to be loathe to become involved in something that is not strictly his provenance – a question of religious law. As a way to avoid decision-making, he first of all tries to hand the decision back to those who brought Jesus to him. When that fails, he gives Jesus the responsibility to acquit or condemn himself. Perhaps, if Jesus will say that he is a King, Pilate will be relieved of making a decision because the course in front of him would be clear – he could put him to death for treason.

It is curious that even though Pilate has the authority to rule and the authority to judge, he wants to abdicate that responsibility in this instance. Even though history records that he is a vicious, uncompromising man, John depicts him as indecisive and at least a little bit concerned to do the right thing. In the end though, Pilate fails. He is unable to make the decision. The fact that he does not know the truth (ie that he cannot make right judgements) is exposed for all to see. Pilate was unable to make the distinction between right and wrong, he was not able to make the right choice between the angry crowd and the innocent man. Though he had authority over the people before him and as the person with authority was in a position to judge, in this instance at least he could not make the decision. in the final analysis, he could not make the choice to do what was right.

What is truth? Pilate’s question resonates throughout history and history records that by and large humanity is very poor at making the right judgements. In the end only God can truly distinguish between good and evil. As Christians, as those who claim to hear Jesus’ voice, we have the potential to be united with Jesus and have been promised the gift of the Holy Spirit who will lead us into all truth. There are no easy answers to Pilate’s question. In the end truth, right judgement belongs to God. If we seek the truth, we need to submerge our egos and deflate our arrogance. The more we confront our selfishness and self interest, the more we will be able to become one with Christ and the more easily will we be guided by the Holy Spirit. The best that we can do is to give ourselves over to God and do the best we can.

June 24, 2012

Pentecost 4

Mark 4:35-41

http://bible.oremus.org/ 

A Reflection

Marian Free

In the name of God who is present with us in all life’s circumstances. Amen.

 A soldier was captured by his enemies and tossed into a prison cell. He knew that in the morning he would be tortured, even killed. As he tossed and turned, he remembered the words: “Do not be anxious for the morrow.” With those words ringing in his ears he fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

In today’s gospel, the disciples are in a boat with Jesus. As is common on the Lake of Galilee, a violent storm suddenly arises, tossing the boat on the waves, filling it with water and terrifying the disciples. Despite the fact that Jesus was in the boat with the disciples, they were unable to relax and to trust that everything would be OK. They cried out in anguish and accused Jesus of not caring about what might happen to them.

Jesus’ response to the storm is quite different. Even though the boat was being hurled around on the waves, and the storm raged about him Jesus was able to sleep unperturbed (that is, until he was woken!). Throughout his life and especially towards its end, Jesus demonstrated a trust in God that was unshakeable – even in the most awful of circumstances. In the face of extreme temptation in the desert, Jesus’ trust in God was steadfast. In the face of severe criticism from the leaders of the establishment, Jesus held firm. Confronted with the most terrible form of torture and death, Jesus never wavered in his resolve. Throughout it all, Jesus remained confident that God was with him and that God would never abandon him.

In comparison, the disciples seem to have learned nothing from their time with Jesus. As Jesus rests, oblivious to the storm and to the concerns of his friends, they fret and worry about their future, crying out in fear and terrified that they would perish.

How like the disciples many of us are. Despite our claims of faith our comfortable recitation of scripture like the 23rd Psalm, many of us waste time and energy worrying about things which may or may not happen. Too many of us are so focussed on the future that we fail to enjoy the present. Instead of placing our trust solely in God, we toss and turn in the face of life’s difficulties. We rely on our own abilities instead of having confidence that God will see us through.

For a few minutes, think of life as a boat in which God is holding you safely. When the storms rage around you, do you like Jesus place all your trust in God? Are you able to place your life completely in God’s hands? Are there anxieties and worries that you can lay to rest today?

You might like to spend some time reflecting on the sentences of scripture below. I find the two prayers useful for when I wake in the morning and before I go to sleep. (At least at those two points in the day) I make myself aware that I have chosen to place my life in God’s hands.

Scripture and prayers to remind you to trust in God

A prayer of St Francis:

Lord help me to live this day quietly, easily,

to lean on your great strength trustfully, restfully,

to wait for the unfolding of your will patiently, serenely,

to greet others peacefully, joyfully

to face tomorrow confidently, courageously.

Psalm 4:8

I will both lie down and sleep in peace;

for you alone, O Lord, make me lie down in safety.

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.

He makes me to lie down in green pastures;

Psalm 91

God will cover you with his pinions,

and under his wings you will find refuge;

Psalm 121

The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in

from this time on and forevermore.

Psalm 131

I have  calmed and quieted my soul,

like a weaned child with its mother,

Isaiah 49:16

I will not forget you

See I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.

Jeremiah 28:11

For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD,

plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.

Matthew 6:34

Do not worry about tomorrow,

for tomorrow will have enough worries of its own.

From the New Zealand Prayer Book (Compline            It is night after along day.

What has been done is done;

what has not been done has not been done.

let it be.

Thank God for God’s presence with you in all the circumstances of your life.

Let us pray:

In this storm tossed life

   give us the courage to face the obstacles that lie before us

      the confidence to trust in your love for us

          and the faith to know that you will never abandon us. Amen.