Swallowsrest

Again, I had something almost prepared as a reflection on Sunday’s reading. This week the Internet has been equally difficult to access, on to of which life  has been so full that there has been no time to think. At last we are in the region of Galilee – somewhere where Jesus almost certainly was. Below are photos of Capernaum and of sunrise over the Lake of Galilee.

Meantime the experience of an archeological dig is fascinating. Our site is Bethsaida (home to Peter, Andrew, James and John) – though it is a long way from the sea for fishermen. There are a number of important features of the site which goes back to the tenth century BCE and was inhabited by the Turks till about the twelfth century CE. There are well preserved city gates with a clear internal courtyard and several sites are currently being dug. It is clear that it would be impossible to excavate any site without volunteers. At the moment there are several concurrent digs. The process goes something like this. Workers (in this case us), dig down until we find a floor or a path and then we meticulously clean it. Once it is photographed we spoil all our hard work and dig down to another layer. Any pottery, coins, flint or other “finds” are kept to be sorted and identified later and the soil is served to pick up anything that we might have missed.

The day goes something like this. We catch the bus at 5:30am to arrive at the dig at 6:00am (hence the photo of the sunrise!) After we pick up our tools, we proceed to our part of the site and do whatever is the order of the day – dig, brush or seige. At 9:00am we break for breakfast until 9:45. Then we work till eleven when we are rewarded with a Popsicle. Clean up begins after twelve and we are back on the bus by 12:30pm. The afternoon is free though we are too exhausted to enjoy it.

The late afternoon, evening, varies though there is always pottery reading at 5:30. This entails sorting the finds from the previous day and being told something about the more significant finds. (There is not interest at all in first century pottery shards – rims are considered valuable as they can tell something about the vessel.) in the evening there might be a lecture, though one afternoon that was brought forward so that we could hear about and see a first century boat. 

All in all an amazing opportunity. Seeing the New Testament places gives the gospels more comfortable next and helps one to get a better sense of it all.

Easter 3 – 2015

Luke 24:36-48

Marian Free

In the name of God whose mysteries we can never fully fathom. Amen.

 There was a fascinating programme on the radio yesterday. The presenter was raising the question: “how do you know that someone is alive?” One hundred years ago the answer would have been obvious, if there was no heart-beat and no breath, then a person could be considered to be dead. Fifty years ago, even thirty years ago the answer became more complicated, but was still reasonably clear. If a person had no brain function then they were to all intents and purposes already dead. However, there are always complications. Families who hoped against hope and refused to turn off life-support systems were rewarded when someone who had been declared brain-dead resumed functioning normally. At least one person with a condition that I know only as “shut-in” syndrome was suddenly restored to normality. Our definitions of death have become more fluid in recent decades.

Jesus was really dead. Unlike those who were crucified with him, Jesus did not need his legs broken. He had died some hours before as the spear in his side confirmed. The question in Jesus’ case is the same: “how do you know that someone is alive?” This is a question that obviously exercised the minds of the first disciples and of the gospel writers.

There are a number of accounts of the risen Christ. As I mentioned last week, the accounts of the Sunday morning are remarkably similar. Matthew and Mark add little else except to report that the angels told the women to remind the disciples that Jesus was going ahead of them to Galilee. Luke and John have fuller accounts and some differences. Both seem to emphasise Jesus’ corporeality and his formlessness. He is able to be touched and to eat, yet he can pass through walls. He is recognizable and not able to be recognised. In John, Thomas seeks proof and in Luke’s gospel the disciples give Jesus fish to eat to assure themselves he is really alive.

Whether by touch or by sight, or even by the feeling of warmth that fills the disciples as Jesus’ speaks, they are absolutely convinced that the grace has been unable to contain him. So convinced are they that they leave their hiding place, and driven by the Holy Spirit, take to the streets, to the countryside and even to different nations to proclaim the resurrection. A foolish, frightened group of men are mobilized by their experience to tell the world that Jesus is risen. Resistance to their message and even persecution does not change their mind or dampen their enthusiasm.

Within three decades of Jesus’ resurrection the gospel has reached as far as Rome and others such as Paul and Chloe, Barnabas and Phoebe have come to share the conviction that Jesus has indeed been raised from the dead. It is hard to conceive that these later believers came to faith simply through the words of others. Enthusiastic as the early apostles were, they were preaching to a society that was not unfamiliar with miracles. There are very few records of the experiences of those who came to believe. We know from the Book of Acts that scripture puzzled the Ethiopian eunuch until Philip provided the answer. We know that Paul had a very dramatic experience of the risen Lord, that Cornelius saw an angel and that some were convinced of their sinfulness are responded by being baptised. Beyond that we know almost nothing.

We are left with conjecture. My guess is this – that in dramatic and not so dramatic ways – those first believers, like Paul experienced the risen Lord for themselves. I suspect that for them the resurrection was not a past event, a miracle reported to try to bring people to a point of view but that it was a lived experience of the risen Lord that convinced people that he was in fact alive.

I believe this because this is what I believe still happens and has happened in every age. We believe, not because the gospels record that the tomb was empty or Jesus ate or did not eat. We believe not because the resurrection is a miracle locked in history. We believe because Jesus, having risen lives for ever, he is not bound by time or space but lives as much in our present as he did in our past. We believe because we know the presence of the risen Christ in our lives – as a quiet strength or as a sense of disquiet, as a comfort or a challenge. Whether our experience was dramatic and life changing, or a gradual assurance, we believe not because Christ rose from the dead, but because the risen Christ continues to be a vital presence in the world today.

We need not other proofs, but what we know to be true.

Christ is risen. He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

After a week of trauma in Australia and abroad, I thought these two prayers were worth sharing. The first I found in my reading this morning, the second, appropriately, I have said each day this week as part of the Daily Office.

O Lord, remember not only the men and women of good will, but also those

of ill will. But do not remember all the suffering they have inflicted upon us;

remember the fruits we bought, thanks to this suffering – comradeship, our

loyalty, our humility, the courage, the generosity, the greatness of heart

which has grown out of this; and when they come to judgement,

let all the fruits that we have borne be their forgiveness.

(Found on a piece of wrapping paper in Ravensbrooke, the largest of the

German concentration camps for women.

Quoted by Stephen Platten in “Thanksgiving.” in Liturgical Spirituality:

Anglican Reflections on the Church’s Prayer. Stephen Burns (Ed), New York:

Seabury Press, 2013, p23.

Collect for the Third Week in Advent

Almighty God, you have made us and all things to serve you:
come quickly to save us, so that wars and violence shall end,
and your children may live in peace,
honouring one another with justice and love;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
who lives with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and forever. Amen.

Pentecost 21
Matthew 25:1-13
Marian Free

In the name of God in whose hands is the past, the present and the future. Amen.

Dennis Sanders could have read my mind when she stated that as a kid she didn’t like the parable of the foolish virgins, that she thought the wise virgins were selfish for not sharing and that the foolish virgins had been framed. (Christian Century, ‘Living by the Word’) I would go further and say that I haven’t liked the parable for much of my adulthood. One reason for this is that the parable of the ten virgins is very graphic. The reader/listener is drawn into the situation. We ,the readers, can picture the young women excitedly going out to escort the bridegroom to his home. We can sympathize with them as they fall asleep in exhaustion when the groom is delayed. We sense the anxiety of those whose lamps are going out and to some extent of those who are afraid to share their oil. Above all, we are drawn into the despair of those who are locked out because of their failure to be ready in time. Though it is the opposite of the author’s intention, our (my) sympathy lies with the ‘foolish’ virgins. I want to find some way of opening the door for them.

This parable occurs only in Matthew, as does the next but one about the sheep and the goats. It occurs in the context of Matthew’s sayings and parables about the end and about watchfulness. For that reason, it is often taken as a warning that believers should be ready (have their lamps trimmed) for the return of Christ. This may be true. It may be that some forty to fifty years after the death of Jesus that some believers were slipping into complacency. However, given Matthew’s context, it is equally possible that the parable is a part of the writer’s polemic against the Jews who did not believe in Jesus. That is, those who believed in Jesus did expect an apocalyptic end of the world and those who did not believe in Jesus did not believe that the world would come to an end. The parable, especially with the additional phrases about the need for watchfulness suggest that the Jesus’ believers will be ready and the others not.

If however, we take the parable on its own – without the added exhortation to readiness, it could well be a parable for our times. When a bridegroom went to meet his bride, one of the tasks was to negotiate the bridal contract with her father. There was no knowing how long this would take, no guarantee that he would return in a timely fashion. Knowing this, it would make sense for those who were to meet him to be prepared for a long wait and to have sufficient oil for such a situation. If that was not sufficient reason to have extra oil, then the realisation that the groom was delayed might have provided the clue that that might have been a good time to get more oil rather than fall asleep. The problem with the foolish virgins, is that they neither consider the possibility that the groom will be delayed, and when it is clear that he will be late, they still take no action. It is only when disaster is on their doorstep that they are finally moved to do something and by the. It is too late.

Sometimes the signs of impending doom are evident long before it is too late to take remedial action. This might be true of the church in many places.

For at least the past forty five years, I have been engaged in discussions about the fact that fewer and fewer people are attending church on a regular basis. The reasons have been many, but the signs have been obvious. During the successive years, the church has engaged specialists and trialled all kinds of programmes which might have slowed, but not halted the decline. My observation is that instead of drawing on the deep wells of our traditions and our faith, we have tinkered at the edges, trying new things that are not really related to the gospel – modern music, morning tea after church, shorter services and so on. There is nothing wrong with any of these if they are responses to changes in the life of the worshipping community, but if they are seen as “quick fixes” to what is a complex issue, they are not likely to achieve lasting change and those whom such changes attract may not stay.

I do not have a solution, but today’s parable makes me wonder whether we have been too long like the foolish virgins, looking for short-term, stop-gap solutions rather than taking the time to be ready for any situation that might present itself. It may not be too late. For two thousand years the oil of faith has kept the lamps of the church alight. Perhaps the parable is urging us, in today’s world, to stop for a minute to replenish our supplies, to ensure that we have sufficient oil (resilience, faithfulness, trust, courage, resourcefulness) to face any situation, to open doors into whatever future God might have prepared.

Readiness or lack of it, does not have to be about the end, about Jesus’ eventual return. It might just as well relate to the present. The parable may be urging us to live fully in the present, ready for anything.

Is our relationship with God such that we have reserves to draw on or are we always flying by the seat of our pants, hoping that there will be something to draw on, someone to help us out when our supplies run low?

Pentecost 21
Matthew 25:1-13
Marian Free

In the name of God in whose hands is the past, the present and the future. Amen.

Dennis Sanders could have read my mind when she stated that as a kid she didn’t like the parable of the foolish virgins, that she thought the wise virgins were selfish for not sharing and that the foolish virgins had been framed. (Christian Century, ‘Living by the Word’) I would go further and say that I haven’t liked the parable for much of my adulthood. One reason for this is that the parable of the ten virgins is very graphic. The reader/listener is drawn into the situation. We ,the readers, can picture the young women excitedly going out to escort the bridegroom to his home. We can sympathize with them as they fall asleep in exhaustion when the groom is delayed. We sense the anxiety of those whose lamps are going out and to some extent of those who are afraid to share their oil. Above all, we are drawn into the despair of those who are locked out because of their failure to be ready in time. Though it is the opposite of the author’s intention, our (my) sympathy lies with the ‘foolish’ virgins. I want to find some way of opening the door for them.

This parable occurs only in Matthew, as does the next but one about the sheep and the goats. It occurs in the context of Matthew’s sayings and parables about the end and about watchfulness. For that reason, it is often taken as a warning that believers should be ready (have their lamps trimmed) for the return of Christ. This may be true. It may be that some forty to fifty years after the death of Jesus that some believers were slipping into complacency. However, given Matthew’s context, it is equally possible that the parable is a part of the writer’s polemic against the Jews who did not believe in Jesus. That is, those who believed in Jesus did expect an apocalyptic end of the world and those who did not believe in Jesus did not believe that the world would come to an end. The parable, especially with the additional phrases about the need for watchfulness suggest that the Jesus’ believers will be ready and the others not.

If however, we take the parable on its own – without the added exhortation to readiness, it could well be a parable for our times. When a bridegroom went to meet his bride, one of the tasks was to negotiate the bridal contract with her father. There was no knowing how long this would take, no guarantee that he would return in a timely fashion. Knowing this, it would make sense for those who were to meet him to be prepared for a long wait and to have sufficient oil for such a situation. If that was not sufficient reason to have extra oil, then the realisation that the groom was delayed might have provided the clue that that might have been a good time to get more oil rather than fall asleep. The problem with the foolish virgins, is that they neither consider the possibility that the groom will be delayed, and when it is clear that he will be late, they still take no action. It is only when disaster is on their doorstep that they are finally moved to do something and by the. It is too late.

Sometimes the signs of impending doom are evident long before it is too late to take remedial action. This might be true of the church in many places.

For at least the past forty five years, I have been engaged in discussions about the fact that fewer and fewer people are attending church on a regular basis. The reasons have been many, but the signs have been obvious. During the successive years, the church has engaged specialists and trialled all kinds of programmes which might have slowed, but not halted the decline. My observation is that instead of drawing on the deep wells of our traditions and our faith, we have tinkered at the edges, trying new things that are not really related to the gospel – modern music, morning tea after church, shorter services and so on. There is nothing wrong with any of these if they are responses to changes in the life of the worshipping community, but if they are seen as “quick fixes” to what is a complex issue, they are not likely to achieve lasting change and those whom such changes attract may not stay.

I do not have a solution, but today’s parable makes me wonder whether we have been too long like the foolish virgins, looking for short-term, stop-gap solutions rather than taking the time to be ready for any situation that might present itself. It may not be too late. For two thousand years the oil of faith has kept the lamps of the church alight. Perhaps the parable is urging us, in today’s world, to stop for a minute to replenish our supplies, to ensure that we have sufficient oil (resilience, faithfulness, trust, courage, resourcefulness) to face any situation, to open doors into whatever future God might have prepared.

Readiness or lack of it, does not have to be about the end, about Jesus’ eventual return. It might just as well relate to the present. The parable may be urging us to live fully in the present, ready for anything.

Is our relationship with God such that we have reserves to draw on or are we always flying by the seat of our pants, hoping that there will be something to draw on, someone to help us out when our supplies run low?