Paul as an infant

October 28, 2023

Pentecost 22 -2023

1 Thessalonians 2:1-13

Marian Free

In the name of God, creator of the universe, child in a manger. Amen.

Paul did not come to believe in Jesus from intellectual conviction or through the influence of the early missionaries. By his own report.  he had some sort of direct experience (revelation) of Jesus, to which he refers obliquely in Galatians 1:15,16 (and possibly 1 Corinthians 12).  This means he is a convert with all the enthusiasm of the convert. He is utterly passionate about the gospel which he has imparted to his congregations  – hence his keenness, his willingness to put up with persecution and imprisonment, his frustration with those who do not understand and with those who misinterpret his teaching, his anger at the Galatians who are turning away, his denunciation of those who preach a “different gospel” and his absolute conviction that his gospel is the only gospel.

Paul’s enthusiasm leads to a certain sort of dogmatism which can be off-putting for those who see only his insistence on certain behaviours and beliefs. A closer examination of Paul’s letters reveals that his apparent assertiveness is based on his very deep love for those whom he has brought to faith and his desire to ensure that they do not squander God’s gifts of salvation, freedom, and life. 

Paul’s affection for those whom he has brought to faith is particularly evident in the letter to the Thessalonians. In the verses that we read this morning, Paul reveals his deep love for the members of that community – a love that is tender and self-giving, a love that can be compared to that of a nurse caring for her own children or of or a father with his children[1]. He speaks with a familiarity, an intimacy that desires only the very best for those to whom he is writing. The expression of nurse is unique to Thessalonians, but elsewhere Paul claims he will “gladly spend and be spent for those whom he has brought to faith.” (1 Corinthians 14:15), he also tells the Corinthians that he became their father the gospel (1 Corinthians). 4:15 and when writing to the Philippians he consistently refers to them as his “beloved”[2].

That Paul might refer to himself as a nursing mother is surprising, but it is not the most surprising expression of relationship in this letter.  Unfortunately, our English translations fail to do justice to Paul’s language here, which means that we miss the depth of intimacy and the absolute vulnerability that Paul is trying to express.  In the NRSV verse 7 reads in part “we were gentle among you, like a nurse tenderly caring for her own children”. It seems that the translators did not know what to do with the Greek word “nāpios” which means infant, child, or even newborn. (The contrast between Paul the apostle and an infant was/is presumably too great for them to accept that that was what Paul really meant.) Yet modern translators agree that a more accurate translation be something like, “We were an infant among you. Just as a nursing mother cares for her children, so we cared for you.”  

In order to express the strength and depth of the relationship between the Thessalonians and himself, Paul needs to reveal both his vulnerability and his self-giving love. His is both infant and mother, a contradiction which the translators of the NRSV are careful to avoid. Yet avoiding the conundrum prevents us from developing a fuller understanding of the person that Paul is and of the relationship Paul builds with those whom he is called to serve. 

Paul is authoritative when he needs to be. He can be stern and insistent, frustrated and disappointed. He can also be completely vulnerable, open to being hurt, confused, and let down by the behaviour and attitudes of his communities. By identifying as a new-born child, Paul is making it clear to the Thessalonians that his life, his ministry is in their hands. He is as dependent on them as they might be on him, that they have as much influence over his behaviour as he has over theirs. The relationships that he forges with those whom he brings to faith is not of leader and follower, but a relationship of mutuality and trust.

This is particularly important, when as is clear from the letter, coming to faith in the time of Paul often involved suffering – whether through direct attacks from those who were anxious to prevent the spread of Christianity, or as a result of social exclusion – a consequence of turning away from the religious activities of their families and friends. In writing to the Thessalonians Paul is conscious that their experience of coming to faith has already involved suffering: “in spite of persecution you received the word with joy inspired by the Holy Spirit” (1:6). Now that he is away from them, Paul is anxious to assure the Thessalonians of his self-giving, sacrificial love and at same time to reassure them that he, no less than they, is susceptible to the suffering that they are experiencing. He does not stand over or apart from them but is one with them in his vulnerability, dependent on them for his very existence. The community is given the opportunity to care for him as he for them, empowered by Paul’s parental care they can continue to be strong in the face of any opposition.

This surely is the model of ministry that Christ modelled – utter vulnerability and self-giving love, newborn yet teacher and guide, allowing himself to be served, yet always serving others. 

It is important to allow the contradiction to become part of our own ministry –  to be strong when others need us to be strong, but not so afraid to be weak that we never allow others to care for us,  to give selflessly and sacrificially, but not in such a way that we appear to be invulnerable and to foster a sense of mutuality in which each person’s ministry is valued.

[1] Later Paul describes his separation from the community as “being orphaned”. (2:17)

[2] The list could go on.

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Give to Caesar

October 21, 2023

Pentecost 21 – 2023
Matthew 22:15-33
Marian Free

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

In 2008 a movie, Frost/Nixon, recreated the famous 1977 interview during which aspiring talk show host Peter Frost was able to squeeze from President Nixon a confession that he had engaged in unethical behaviour. Nixon even said: “When the President does it, it’s not illegal.” At that point the President’s minders interrupted the interview, but by then Frost had the upper hand. He progressively pursued his line of questioning and managed to extract a confession that the President had engaged in a cover up. At the conclusion of the interview President Nixon said: “Sometimes you say things that are really in your heart, when you are thinking in advance then you say things that are a terror to the audience. I let down my friends. I let down the country, I let down our system of government all the dreams of those young people that ought to get into government but who will think it’s all too corrupt and the rest. And I have to carry that burden with me for the rest of my life .”

This interview was the making of Frost’s career. A skilled interviewer – Michael Parkinson, Andrew Dent – is able, by lulling the guest into a (false?) sense of security or as in the case of Frost/Nixon through careful background research and dogged questioning, to get the interviewee to reveal something they might otherwise have preferred to have kept to themselves.

Something like this is going on in today’s gospel.

The inclusion of the three previous parables (tenants in the vineyard, the wedding banquet) breaks the flow and makes it difficult to see that our gospel narrative (as I mentioned a couple of weeks ago) is part of a report of the conflict between Jesus and the religious leaders of his day. This is not as simple as it first appears. Judaism, then as now, was not a monolithic religion. Just as today the major world religions are divided into numerous sects so too the Judaism of the first century. The New Testament mentions a number of these groups – the Sadducees who governed the Temple, the Pharisees who, believing the Temple to be corrupt, relied instead on their interpretation of the law, the Zealots, who actively resisted Rome, and the Herodians about whom we know little, but whose name suggests that they supported Rome. Normally these different groups would be in conflict with other, but in the face of a common threat – Jesus – they appear to have joined forces. In this section of the gospel, each group tries in turn tries to trap Jesus in order to embarrass him in front of the crowds or to expose his subversive views so that Rome might be compelled to take action against him.

First of all the Chief Priests and elders ask Jesus a question about authority. What/who gave him the authority to teach, to heal and to chase the money changers from the Temple? Jesus turns the question back to them – “Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” The Chief Priests are unable to answer.

Next it is turn of the Pharisees, who instead of confronting Jesus themselves send their disciples and the Herodians. Given that a direct approach has failed, Jesus’ opponents use flattery as a means to soften him up, to put him off his guard and hopefully to trick him into saying something that he might later regret – something that will either give the Romans an excuse to arrest him or that will diminish his influence over the people.

“Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar?” they ask. Jesus is aware of their strategy. If he says, “yes” they can question his loyalty to God. If he says, “no” he will be seen to be undermining the authority of the Empire. Jesus’ antagonists believe that they have placed him in an impossible position. But this is Jesus whose response is both strategic and theologically sound. By asking for a coin – a denarius – he is able to illustrate his point. The coin was minted by the Empire and bears the emperor’s image. No matter what people might think of the foreign occupation, the coin makes it clear that Palestine is – at present – part of a greater whole. Like it or not, citizens are bound up with the economic system of the Empire. Without the coin they cannot engage in commerce or in day-to-day transactions. Their existence is integrally related to that of the Empire. “Give to Caesar, the things that are Caesar’s,” Jesus says. He deftly avoids making a definitive answer or taking sides – things are never as simple as they seem.

Then Jesus deals with the unspoken question – does “loyalty” to the Empire diminish loyalty to God? Of course not. Paying taxes to Caesar is a consequence of the current state of the world, a world over which God has ultimate control.

Jesus’ response (as the Greek has it) – “the of God to God” – is deliberately vague. Presumably, as God is the creator of all things, then all things are “of God” – even Caesar . We do not have t worry. about the detail. Focusing on minor details, such as the payment of taxes can be a distraction, an excuse not to engage with the overarching reality that ultimately all things are God’s and trying to separate out, to exclude things from God’s oversight becomes (as it was for Jesus’ interrogators) a means of not acknowledging God’s ultimate lordship. To whom we do or not do pay taxes in the present, is of little significance in the light of God’s all-embracing love and power that has existed from before time and will continue beyond time.

For those of us reading these words centuries later, the message is this: Instead of worrying about minutiae, we are asked simply to place ourselves in the hands of the living God, to trust God with our present and our future and to allow the small irritations (like paying taxes) to work themselves out. After all, all things are of God, and we are to give God the things that are God’s – including our very selves.

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An undressed guest – an act of resistance?

October 14, 2023

Pentecost 20 – 2023
Matthew 22:1-14
Marian Free

In the name of God who gave us life, Jesus who challenged cultural norms and the Spirit who gives us courage to stand for what is right. Amen.

I have just finished reading the novel All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr. The novel is an account of a number of children whose lives intersect during and after the Second World War. One sub-plot concerns a ‘school’ that trains (increasingly) young boys to join Hitler’s war. It is, as you can imagine a particularly brutal place. The boys are selected according to their Aryan appearance and physical or mental abilities. They are expected to do everything they are asked without question – even when it involves jumping from a great height into the arms of the boys below or beating a fellow student with a rubber hose because he is deemed to be the weakest in the group.

Frederick does not really belong – he is physically small and needs glasses. It appears that his presence at the school has nothing to do with him and everything to do with his father’s position. He is resigned to having no control over his life and we learn that he was only accepted into the school because his mother helped him to learn the eye chart by heart. Frederick has an air of resignation, he does everything required of him and bears, without complaint, the beating he receives for being singled out as the slowest boy in the group.

One winter’s night, all the boys in Frederick’s year group are taken from their beds and made to stand in the courtyard. Snow lies on the ground and the boys are freezing. While they wait, wondering why they are there, an emaciated and ragged prisoner is paraded before them. After the prisoner’s crimes are listed, the boys are a given a bucket of water in turn and ordered to throw it on the prisoner. For fear of the consequences everyone complies. Everyone that is, except Frederick. When it comes to his turn, Frederick empties the bucket on to the ground. He is given another bucket – which he empties and another. “I will not,” he says.

Several nights later his bunk mate, Werner, notices that Frederick is not in his bed. When Werner goes to the infirmary in search of his friend he is confronted by bloodied sheets, but no Frederick. Years later Werner discovers that Frederick had been beaten so badly by his fellow students that he had suffered brain damage and was confined to a wheelchair. The compliant child discovered that there was a point beyond which he would not go. His non-compliance had the most awful consequences.

Resistance is costly as the winner of this year’s Nobel Peace Prize can attest. Narges Mohammidi is an Iranian activist who is serving 30 years in prison as a consequence of her struggle for human rights (democracy, freedom, and equality) in Iran. Not only has she been imprisoned but she is not allowed any contact with her husband or children. Narges is only one of thousands who resist oppression, cruelty and injustice and who pay a terrible price for struggling for justice.

Today’s parable about a king who prepares a wedding banquet, guests who not only offend the king but who offer poor excuses or worse, beat and kill the slaves, a king who retaliates by killing the offenders and razing their city and inviting others (good and bad) to the banquet, and who finally tosses a hapless guest into the outer darkness where there is weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. It is a bloodthirsty, vengeful story worthy of Game of Thrones and tells us nothing of God’s love, goodness, and mercy.

Taken at face value, this parable is notoriously difficult to understand, especially the addition about the guest without a garment. While it is possible to bring some cultural factors into play in our interpretation – refusing a king’s invitation being an attack on the honour of the king and the king’s vengeance a means of restoring that honour – we are still left with a capricious and violent king whose reaction to being slighted appears excessive – both in terms of the reaction to the original guests and the response to the underdressed late comer. It leaves us wondering what the parablecould possibly tell us about the kingdom of God.

Many of us grow up missing the detail of the aggression of the insulted king, but very aware of the ‘rudeness’ of the guest without the appropriate clothes. You, like me might have memories of Sunday School lessons in which a teacher told us with some authority that there was a custom of a host providing wedding dress for the guests. We were led to believe the king (God) was absolutely justified in treating the ‘ungrateful’ guest in the way that he did. The takeaway from the parable was that we should be – be grateful or else!

There are many scholarly attempts to come to terms with this parable, but I was particularly taken with Debie Thomas’ reflection . She questions her/my Sunday School lessons and the attitude that it fosters – the arrogance that believes that the unclothed (not us) deserve a shocking and vicious consequence for their ingratitude. She asks: “do we really believe in a God as petty, vengeful, hotheaded, and thin-skinned as the king in this parable?” (and what does it say of us if we do??)

Debie wonders: “Here’s one possibility: What if the “God” figure in the parable is the one guest who refuses to accept the terms of the tyrannical king? The one guest who decides not to “wear the robe” of forced celebration and coerced hilarity, the one guest whose silent resistance leaves the king himself “speechless,” and brings the whole sham feast to a thundering halt? The one brave guest who decides he’d rather be “bound hand and foot,” and cast into the outer darkness of Gethsemane, Calvary, the cross, and the grave, than accept the authority of a violent, loveless sovereign?”

This is an interpretation that I can live with, one that honours the parable’s intention to shock us out of our complacency into a new and radical way of thinking. The depiction of the heedless, selfish guests, the affronted king and the excessive response becomes a description of the world as it is, and the underdressed guest is the one who resists aggression and who pays the ultimate price for his resistance.

What is our image of God and what price are we prepared to pay in our resistance to a violent and divided world?

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All this I count as rubbish – repriotising

October 7, 2023

Pentecost 19 – 2023
Philippians 3
Marian Free

In the name of God who is all that we need. Amen.

Sometimes it takes a crisis for us to recognise what is truly important in our lives. Many people, when face with the diagnosis of a terminal illness, realise that all the external things for which they strived have little meaning in the face of death. They come to understand that what does matter is the relationships they forged, the pleasure that they took in the simple things of life, and the good that they have done. Those who are lucky enough to have time reassess their priorities, and often make different choices about how they will live what life is left to them. Instead of working hard for promotion and recognition, they may work less and spend more time with their families, travel, or do other things that are meaningful to them

Steve Jobs, the founder of Apple, commented: “Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Almost everything–all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure–these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart. No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet, death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it, and that is how it should be, because death is very likely the single best invention of life. It’s life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new.”

The reminder that we are mortal has the ability to focus our minds, to make us reassess our lives and to ask whether, if we were to die tomorrow, we could do so without regret. The imminence of death (when it is not related to age) makes us ask ourselves whether we have loved enough, laughed enough, and played enough – not whether were rich enough, successful enough, or received enough accolades. Were we primarily happy or not happy will be the question we might ask.

Paul the Apostle did not need the imminence of death to bring him face to face with the futility of his life and his ambitions. It was his experience of the Risen Christ that turned his life around and forced him to rethink what was important. By his own account, Paul had strived to be the very best that he could be in the faith and culture into which he had been born. As we heard in the reading from Philippians, no one could argue with his pedigree: “circumcised on the eighth day, a member of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrews”. In Jewish circles he was among the elite, but it was not just his inherited place in the world in which he took pride. He had done everything he could to ensure that he stood apart from his fellows in his practice of the faith: “as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless.” Elsewhere he claims: “I advanced in Judaism beyond many among my people of the same age, for I was far more zealous for the traditions of my ancestors” (Gal 1:14). “Under the law blameless!” Paul believed that he had reached the pinnacle of success. His life as he saw it was perfect! In his mind he was superior to his contemporaries. He wanted for nothing.

All this came crashing down when God revealed God’s Son to him. In a flash, he was able to understand that what he had thought of as achievements were as nothing in God’s eyes. He now considered them as rubbish (or to use a literal translation of the Greek, as excrement). If a crucified troublemaker could indeed be the anointed one of God, then clearly Paul had completely misunderstood. He could see that his previous values (the values he had absorbed from his upbringing) were actually the reverse of God’s values. If Jesus, the one sent by God, “didn’t count equality with God as something to be exploited, but could empty himself and take the form of a slave” (2:6,7), then surely he, Paul, needed to reevaluate his priorities! His perceived achievements meant nothing now. He understood that the cross had exposed as meaningless, everything that had given his life meaning and purpose up to that point. All his values and achievements have to be reexamined in the light of the crucified Christ. All his preconceptions and beliefs would have to be reassessed if Jesus (who took on human form) is God.

In other words, the cross shattered all Paul’s certainties – about God, about himself, about righteousness, about success and about suffering. Paul’s values were turned upside down. He was able to see that it was not what he did, but what God had done that was important, that God’s ideas about success are almost the exact opposite to those of the world, and that one doesn’t need external validation, but only the assurance of one’s place in God’s eyes.

Not all of us have our thoughts and values challenged and focused by the imminence of death or by. a blinding experience of Christ, but Paul’s experience, recorded in his letters, is enough to convince us that it is God’s approval that matters (not the approval of the world) and that what is most important in this life is seeking those things that will last forever – faith, hope and love. When we learn that, all else will fall into place.

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Choosing to challenge God – the question about authority

September 29, 2023

Pentecost 18 – 2023
Matthew 21:23-32
Marian Free
In the name of God, source of all being, word of life, Holy Spirit. Amen.

Today’s gospel belongs with a series of controversy stories that are found in all three Synoptic gospels. In these, various religious leaders approach Jesus and ask a question – about authority, about taxes, and about the resurrection. There are three groups of protagonists, but their goal is the same. They want to trap Jesus, to discredit him in front of his followers and at the same time to demonstrate their own wisdom and wit and to regain their authority over the people.

First century Judaism not a monolithic faith. Like most religions what we call Judaism, was and is, made up of a number of sub-groups who while holding the same belief in one God, expressed that belief in different ways and with different practices. The Pharisees, believing that Temple worship was corrupt, sought to find salvation through a deeper understanding of the law – they believed in the resurrection. On the other hand, the Sadducees, the religious elite, were responsible for the maintenance of the Temple. They did not believe in the resurrection. Another group, the Essenes, were so disenchanted with the Temple, that they had withdrawn to caves in the vicinity of the Dead Sea. Though representatives of the various groups generally kept to themselves, faced with a common threat – Jesus and his teaching – they were more than happy to join forces (as the controversy stories demonstrate).

It must be said that, at this point, Jesus has done nothing to endear himself to the leaders of the church. He is now in Jerusalem having entered the city in a most provocative manner, cheered on by crowds who welcomed him as the son of David. Then, instead of trying to be inconspicuous, Jesus has visited the Temple, where he became so enraged that he overturned tables and drove the traders from the Temple precincts. These are hardly the actions of a man who wants to remain under the radar.

This morning’s gospel finds him back in the Temple – where he will spend every day before his arrest. It is little wonder that the church leaders want to reassert their authority in this, their space and to regain for themselves the attention of the crowds.

So begins a contest of wills. First of all, the chief priests and the elders approach him with the question of authority. Then the Pharisees send their disciples, along with the Herodians to ask Jesus whether it is lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not (surely not, they think he will say). Finally, the Sadducees arrive with a question about the resurrection: if a woman is widowed six times and if each time, she marries her husband’s brother whose wife will she be in the resurrection?
As we will see, Jesus is not only able to rise to the occasion, but his responses to the questions, rather than reveal his ignorance, expose the weaknesses of his opponents. Worse, for them, Jesus tells a parable (not this one) which the chief priests and Pharisees, rightly or wrongly believe is aimed at them.

Matthew presents the controversies in the same order as that found in Mark’s gospel, but he adds more parables to illustrate the point – including that of the two sons included in today’s gospel.

The first question relates to Jesus’ action in the Temple. “By what authority are you doing these things?” the chief priests and elders ask him. What, they want to know, gives Jesus permission to challenge years of practice and to drive people from the Temple when they are legitimately going about their business. It is in the Temple in particular that the religious leaders exercise authority. By taking it on himself to drive out the money changers, Jesus is directly challenging their authority and they, the chief priests and elders, are quite within their rights to confront him – who gives him authority to do what he has done?

Jesus will not be drawn in by their attempt to ensnare him. First, they must answer his question – a question, which as we can see, puts them in a double bind. Did the baptism of John come from God? If they say one thing, they will put the crowd offside (the exact opposite of what they are trying to do). If they say the other, they will be revealing their failure to accept that God was at work in John. The issue is further complicated by the fact they have to some extent supported John’s ministry – some of the Pharisees and Sadducees went out to the Jordan to be baptised (3:7) and if they say that John’s baptism was of God, they have to accept that Jesus’ authority comes from God (John, being the forerunner of Jesus).

Having stumped his questioners, Jesus presses home his advantage with the parable about the two sons, and then another about the tenants in the vineyard. In this first parable, Jesus’ point is that it is not the smug and self-righteous (those who question him) who will enter the kingdom first, but the tax collectors and prostitutes (those who are all too aware of their sinfulness).

As we will see over the next few weeks, Jesus simply cannot be second-guessed. Jesus, knowing the mind of God will surprise, disturb, and challenge those who question him, those who think that they know all there is to know about God and God’s purposes in the world. It is those who know their shortcomings who, unsure of themselves, will be open and responsive to what Jesus has to say and to what Jesus will reveal.

Who are we – those who are sure they know all that needs to be known and are caught off guard when God does something unexpected, or are we among those who knowing our own weaknesses understand that we do not and cannot know God and are happily surprised when God behaves in ways that we had not anticipated?

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Enough is enough – labourers in the vineyard

September 23, 2023

Pentecost 17 – 2023
Matthew 20:1-16
Marian Free

In the name of God who gives us all that we need. Amen.

Each received a days’ wage, and yet some grumbled against the householder.

It is not often that one of the Sunday readings provides something of a commentary on another, but such is the case this morning – a reflection on what is going on in the Exodus, resonates with the parable that Jesus’ relates in Matthew’s gospel. In both accounts there is a lot of grumbling going on and though the situations are vastly different in time and context, it is clear that in every age, the people of God find it impossible to trust God and to believe in or accept God’s generosity.

Meg Jenista’s commentary on Exodus 16 this week touched a chord for me . She writes: “The waters of the Red Sea have barely even crashed back together. The victory song has barely even faded off Miriam’s lips. The Israelites have barely even finished filling their canteens at an oasis with twelve springs and 70 palm branches.

“But out in that desert, the people of God melt into a collective toddler tantrum – I mean it really does help if you can imagine them sinking onto the sand like overtired two year olds, flailing and wailing pitifully. “If only we had died in Egypt. Everything was so great in Egypt and God is so mean to bring us here. Moses is so dumb! And now we’re going to die of hunger. This is the worst thing that has ever happened to us.””

Only weeks before, the same people were bent low under the iron fist of Pharoah, making bricks (without the straw needed to bind them), forced to meet impossible deadlines, and impelled to kill any male child born to them. Now, having been miraculously rescued by God (who sent plagues to terrorize the Egyptians) and brought through the Red Sea by the parting of the waters they are safely on their way to the Promised Land. But is this enough for them? – no it is not! These former slaves want more. God might have brought them out of Egypt, but despite everything they have witnessed and experienced, they are unable to trust that God will take care of them in the desert and bring them safely to their destination. (At least in Egypt – awful as it was – they knew where they stood.)

Jenista goes on to point out that, instead of chiding them for their ingratitude, God provides food manna and quail –with a proviso – they are only to gather as much as they need for one day, except on the Sabbath when they are to gather two days’ worth. You would think that when they see what God has provided, they would trust God to continue to provide? But, no! What if there is none tomorrow? So, they gather more than they need, only to discover that it does not last and there is more each day. It seems that whatever God does for them is not sufficient. They have been slaves too long to feel truly secure. They cannot let go of the fear that there will not be enough food for tomorrow. They are still in the grip of a world-view that says that leaders are oppressors who cannot be trusted. They cannot let go of the belief that they have to look out themselves, because no one else will look out for them and they cannot accept that they are of value to anyone just as they are (as opposed to what they can be used for).

These are beliefs and fears that cannot be unlearned in a generation, and they are the sort of fears and beliefs that seem to lie behind the grumbling in today’s parable.
As is the case with all the parables, it is not our task to make sense of the details – like why the householder went into the marketplace on five successive occasions – surely he knew early in the morning just how many workers he needed for the day! What is important to note is that each time he went to the marketplace he saw labourers waiting to be hired, and he hired them. Nor is it up to us to wonder why – at nine, noon, three and five – there were more labourers waiting to be hired – surely they were there at dawn! The salient point is that a householder who needs help with a vineyard, hires people at different points during the day. With the first he has a “contract” – he and they agree that he will pay them the usual daily wage. With the remainder, he simply says: “I will pay you whatever is right.”

We all know the story, those who worked only an hour are paid for a full day’s work, and those who worked for the entire day are paid what they agreed to – the usual daily wage. Our outrage matches that of those who have worked all day. “It’s not fair!” we think to ourselves. Those who worked longer should get more (no matter what they agreed to). We don’t stop to think, that those who worked for one hour, three hours, six hours or nine hours also have families who need to be fed, nor do we consider that those who worked for a day will have enough to meet their commitments at least for a time. Our idea of equity is that some get more than others. The householder’s idea of equity is that everyone gets enough.

Despite ourselves, our lives are governed by a need to prove ourselves, a desire to be recognised, an anxiety that we will not have enough (or that what we have will be taken away). In order to feel secure and to feel valued we, like the Israelites in the desert expect God to do, to give us more than enough and, like those who have worked all day, we want to be marked out as special, more deserving.

It would be so much better if we trusted God to give us what we need, and to be content with the knowledge that God wants everyone to have enough.

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Forgiven and free

September 16, 2023

Pentecost 16 – 2023
Matthew 18:21-35
Marian Free

In the name of God who has overlooked all our sins and who wants only what is best for us. Amen.

Forgiveness is perhaps the most misunderstood of Christian teaching. This is a consequence of a number of things: we turn it into an instruction – You must forgive (or else), we fail to understand that ultimately forgiveness is something that God does, and finally, we forget that there is no sliding scale when it comes to being perfect which means that as none of us is perfect, all of us need forgiveness.

A lifetime’s experience tells me that turning forgiveness into a commandment is not helpful. This approach fails to capture the nuances of forgiveness – for example, forgiveness does not mean overlooking sin, it doesn’t mean condoning bad behaviour or that there are no consequences for causing hurt, breaking the law or doing the wrong thing. On the other side of this equation, forgiveness may mean stepping into another’s shoes and trying to understand what drives them to act the way they do. It may mean giving the other the resources – education, housing, employment – so that they can address those things that lie beneath the outward expression of confusion or pain . Turning forgiveness into a commandment not only ignores the subtleties of forgiveness, but creates a situation in which a person who has been deeply hurt and traumatised, is further traumatised by feelings of inadequacy and guilt when they cannot find a way to forgive and have to hand the situation over to God.

Forgiveness, like most of the things that God asks of us, is ultimately for our benefit – not God’s. God knows that our lives will be fuller and richer if we are able to let go past wrongs and hurts, rather than harbouring resentments which only serve to make us bitter and unhappy and do nothing to restore a damaged relationship. In fact, more often than not, the one who has caused offense is not affected at all as a consequence of our failure to forgive – we are only hurting ourselves. As Anne Lamont said in her memoir Traveling Mercies: withholding forgiveness is like drinking rat poison and then waiting for the rat to die .

That said, there are some things that are almost impossible to forgive. Torture and sexual abuse for example, leave scars that are so deep and so painful that it may take years of recovery before the victim is able to move forward, let alone heal. In such cases the wounded may only have the strength to hand forgiveness over to God. Corrie ten Boom, an internee of some of the Nazi’s worst labour camps, spent a lifetime after the war preaching forgiveness. She tells the story of an evening when, after she had delivered her message, she was approached by a man whom she instantly recognised as a guard who had treated her beloved sister particularly badly. The man said to her, I know that God has forgiven me, but I would like to hear that you have too. In that moment Corrie froze. She simply could not reach out her hand to take his. All that she had said, all that she genuinely believed could not at that moment be put into action. In that moment the pain and hurt of her experience was still too raw. Corrie could only pray and as she prayed, she felt her arm move and her hand take that of her sister’s tormenter. In that moment it was God, not she who extended forgiveness .

In order to truly forgive, many of us need to be reminded of our own need for forgiveness, and to feel the sense of awe that we, who are so far from the glory of God have been forgiven and set free. It is this aspect of forgiveness that today’s parable addresses. A slave owes a king ten thousand talents – an amount of money few of us could imagine – well over one billion US dollars! Remember this is a parable – Jesus is not suggesting that the king or the slave would have that much money, but rather that the debt is beyond anyone’s ability to pay and that the forgiveness of such a debt is unbelievable! Certainly, the reaction of the slave indicates that he can’t believe it to be true. Instead of extending the king’s act of generosity of a fellow slave, he demands the repayment of the paltry amount of $430. (Of course, it is equally possible that the first slave felt he had earned/deserved forgiveness of the debt.) Either way, he appears not to have appreciated the enormity of the king’s generosity, it has taught him nothing about the nature of the king and has apparently left him fearful and insecure.

There are many among us who are like the first slave. We either think that we are so good, that we have done nothing that needs God’s forgiveness or that what we have done is so bad that God couldn’t possibly forgive us. The parable says otherwise. We are all in need of forgiveness and God is capable of forgiving the most outrageous of debts. When we truly understand that we (with all our imperfections) have been forgiven, we understand that others – more and less imperfect than ourselves, will also have been forgiven.

Forgiveness is a gift not a demand.
It is something God does – especially when we cannot do it ourselves.
We who are forgiven and free, cannot help but extend forgiveness to others.

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Being human – reponding to Jesus’ announcement that he will soffer

September 2, 2023

Pentecost 14 – 2023
Matthew 16:21-28
Marian Free

In the name of God who sees us as we are and does not turn God’s back on us. Amen.

“Zora’s home, or at least the part that can still be lived in, has shrunk to a third of its original size. The bedrooms have long been abandoned to the wind and the snow, which gets in through the tears in the bin bags, while the bathroom, devoid of water and reeking of blocked drains, is also avoided. The doors to these rooms are kept shut, rolled-up rugs wedged against them to keep out the icy draughts from one side and the stench from the other. Consequently, the narrow entrance hall is now not so much a corridor as a tunnel, which, bristling with Zora’s works of rubble, shrapnel and feathers, channels guest directly from the front door to the living room at the far end of the flat. The kitchen, the favoured room in the spring and the summer, as it is the furthest room from the hills and so least likely to be shelled, has now lost its former status due to the cold. Ice spiders crawl over the inside of the windowpane and icicles hang from the windowsill. Mirsad helps Zora drag the mattress from the kitchen to the living room so that she can sleep near the stove. The kitchen is now used mainly as a place to relieve herself, using a bucket as a chamber pot. Zora disposes of the bucket’s contents outside the building, close to the mounds of uncollected rubbish, on her way to find food or water each morning. The area immediately around the stove, where the mattress, stools and cushions have been arranged, has become the hub of the flat. Almost all activity takes place there: cooking, sitting, eating, talking, making art, washing with a glassful of icy water and a bucket, and sleeping. [..] The flat is drawing in on itself, Zora thinks as she inches closer to the stove each night. It’s being taken over, room by room, by ice, wind and snow. By the outside by the war.”

I have just completed the novel Black Butterflies by Priscilla Morris about the siege of Sarajevo. Morris describes in graphic detail what it was to live under siege in bombed out homes, as the European winter closed in and UN food drops were prevented from entering the city.

It is extraordinary to imagine that friends and neighbors could turn against each other so quickly. That they could allow others to endure incredible deprivation seems unbelievable and yet the situation described above is one that many in the Ukraine will face as the war there enters its second winter – a war in which infrastructure including power stations has been destroyed, and food storages destroyed.

I name the Ukraine only because the situation is similar to Sarajevo in many ways, particularly in relation to the cold, but there are countless other situations in which people endure the horrors of war, the anguish of famine, the indignity of being a refugee or asylum seeker, or the long, hard struggle to recover from natural disaster.

As members of the human race, you and I have to face up to the unspeakable horrors we inflict/have inflicted on our fellow human beings, the tragedies on which we turn our backs and the times when we offer too little or inappropriate assistance.

Over the last few weeks, the readings in Morning Prayer have followed the life of King David. As I have read this account one more time, I have had cause to reflect that the Bible has as much (if not more) to say about humanity as it has to say about God. In other words, the Bible holds up a mirror to reveal the worst, as well as the best in us. The Old Testament in particular shows us of what we are capable – murder, adultery, genocide, fratricide, self-centredness, jealousy, craftiness, and deception to name but a few. Our Old Testament heroes are depicted as vengeful, cowardly, covetous, two-faced, and faithless. (Though they can also be brave, faithful, selfless, humble, and repentant ).

In the New Testament our heroes fare only a little better. In the time of Jesus Israel and the neighboring countries are under Roman rule and therefore not at war with each other and there is no throne for which the descendants of David can compete. This means that the flaws of the disciples are therefore of a different order, but their raw humanity is fully on display and they exhibit imperfections shared by us all. They are foolish, fearful, competitive, uncomprehending, disloyal, cowardly, impotent, and self-seeking and there is no attempt by the gospel writers to present them as anything other than what they are.

Today’s gospel is a dramatic illustration of just how uncomprehending and self-important the disciples are. As we heard last Sunday, the disciples have just been entrusted with the true identity of Jesus – “you are the Christ, the son of the Living God.” That they have no idea what this means is revealed by their reaction to Jesus’ announcement that he will suffer and die. On this first occasion Peter goes so far as to rebuke Jesus. (Earning Jesus’ swift and harsh reaction: “Get behind me Satan!” ).

On the next two occasions that Jesus’ announces his future suffering, the disciples’ response exposes not just their incomprehension, but also their arrogance and competitiveness. (Jesus shares with them his deepest fears and they can only think of themselves! ) They argue about who among them is the greatest and the mother of James and John asks Jesus if they can sit at his right hand and his left in the kingdom! Finally, when Jesus’ predictions do come true the disciples abandon him to suffer alone. Fearful of reprisals they hide away until they are truly convinced that Jesus has risen. They can hardly be said to be role models for those who follow after, but what they are is authentic, flawed and blatantly human.

As much as the Bible helps us to understand God, it gives us an insight into ourselves, and forces us to be honest about our weaknesses and vulnerabilities. It takes away any tendency to self-importance and, time and again, throws us on the mercy of God. What is extraordinary, and what is made clear. in the very imperfect lives of our forebears in faith, is that through it all, God never turns God’s back on us, but reaches out to us, over and over and over again, hoping against hope that we will learn to trust God more than we trust ourselves and that, empowered by God, we will become the people that we are destined to become.

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Jesus – who is he?

August 26, 2023

Pentecost 13 – 2023

Matthew 16:1-20

Marian Free

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

I have often said that the gospel writers were masters of their craft. Each has taken what they know of Jesus’ life and teachings and have woven them together in such a way as to draw people into belief in Jesus as God’s anointed. They do this in the way they structure their material and the methods they use to keep their audiences engaged. The authors tantalise their readers, build tension, create moods, drop hints, and raise questions. They draw the reader into the story forcing them to take sides or to draw their own conclusions. Each gospel writer gradually reveals the nature of Jesus and of Jesus’ purpose in the world and each build to a climax which is followed by a sense of gathering gloom as the story moves towards the crucifixion. Such is the richness and depth of the writing that it seems that there is always something new to learn about their craft and style. 

Take for example the Gospel of Matthew (the most Jewish of the four gospels). In more than one place, the author makes it clear that Jesus feels that his mission is only to the Israelites and that his role is to uphold the Jewish law. For example, it is only in Matthew’s gospel that we have the statement: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill.  For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished” (5:17,18) and only in Mathew does Jesus say: Go nowhere among the Gentiles, and enter no town of the Samaritans, but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” (10:5, 6). In this gospel we will not find the blatant openness to Gentiles that is evident in Luke who includes the story of the Samaritan who is the only leper to say, “thank you” and the parable of the Good Samaritan.

Yet, this most Jewish of the gospels begins with the foreign magi worshipping the infant Jesus and concludes with Jesus’ command to make disciples of all nations. There are other ways in which the author of Matthew makes it clear to his readers that faith in Jesus is open to all people, not least of which is the account of Jesus’ encounter with the Canaanite woman which was our focus last week. Matthew’s readers, secure in their place as the true Israel will have been shocked Not only does Jesus respond to the woman’s demands by having a complete change of mind (the dogs – Gentiles – can have the crumbs, indeed more than the crumbs), but he frames this story between accounts of Jesus’ feeding crowds with small amounts of bread.

It is no accident that Matthew includes two slightly different stories of the feeding of the thousands. You might have wondered why Jesus miraculously feeds 5,000 and shortly thereafter feeds 4,000. The clue is in the baskets. When Jesus feeds the 5,000, the disciples gather 12 baskets full of crumbs. Twelve for the 12 tribes of Israel. After Jesus encounters the Canaanite woman, he feeds 4,000 after which the disciples only gather 7 baskets of crumbs. Seven is the number for wholeness, seven for a ministry to the whole world – Jew and Gentile included. These are clues that completely escape us, but which would have been obvious to Matthew’s first century audience.

Only after Matthew’s gospel records these events does Jesus ask his climactic question: ‘Who do people say that I am?” followed by “who do you say that I am?”  In other words, before Peter’s declaration that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God, Matthew has completely reframed what this means. (Something that he will continue to do as he prepares his readers Jesus’ suffering and death). Through the story of the Canaanite woman, the two accounts of the left-over crumbs, Matthew has ensured that the Christ has come not just for the Jewish nation, but for all people.

There is nothing accidental in the way Matthew presents his material!

The Canaanite woman has identified Jesus as Lord, Son of David (a Jewish title), Peter identifies Jesus as Son of the living God – a universal title that could include all.

At the heart of the issues that divide the Anglican Church today is this question – who is Jesus? Is Jesus, as some of us believe the one sent by God to destroy the barriers that divide, to break open God’s love to all who would receive it, or is Jesus the one sent by God to ensure that the law is enforced (and some might say, strengthened)?

It seems to me that Matthew, the gospel writer most tied to the traditions and laws of his Jewish background is clear that Jesus, the Son of the living God, is willing to be challenged, to let go of his preconceptions about who is and who is not included in God’s love, and who himself breaks boundaries by associating with sinners.

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Change of mind – Syro-Phoenician woman

August 19, 2023

Pentecost 12 – 2023
Matthew 15:21-28
Marian Free

In the name of God who is always beyond our comprehension. Amen.

I begin this having just read the SMH report (18.8.2023) relating to the Anglican Diocese of Sydney. The Doctrine Commission of that Diocese has produced a report that will be presented to their Synod later this year. The document includes a new doctrinal statement on homosexuality that says that the mere desire for same-sex sexual intimacy is contrary to God’s will, “an inclination toward evil” and something from which Christians seek to be liberated. It concluded that people who are same-sex attracted but celibate are not “actively and consistently perpetuating sin”, and their desire alone does not demand repentance. However, it is “something to be lamented and from which we seek to be liberated”.

Rob Smith, a member of the Committee stated on The Pastor’s Heart Podcast: “Sinful desires are sinful. It’s not just the doing of sin that’s sinful, the desiring of sin is sinful,” he said. “There are not godly ways of expressing same-sex sexual desire. There’s no opportunity there, there’s no open door … It’s contrary to nature from the get-go.”

I find myself grieving for all who are same-sex attracted, who are being told that something over which they have no control is sinful and deserving of God’s wrath and at the same time I am puzzling how any mere mortal can truly put themselves in the place of God to determine what is good and what is evil, who is in and who is out.

It seems to me that today’s gospel speaks directly to this issue and it demonstrates that even Jesus did not entirely know the mind of God – that is, Jesus was sure that he knew the mind of God until he was humbled by the insistence of the very person whom he judged to be unworthy of his help and “deserving of God’s wrath” (to use the language of the language quote above).

The scenario is one with which we are very familiar. Jesus is a long way from home – in the region of Tyre and Sidon when a woman of that region – a Canaanite, a gentile – comes out and begins shouting that her daughter is tormented by a demon. Jesus’ response is to ignore her, until the disciples, unable to listen to her shouting tell him to send her away. When Jesus does speak, it is not to address the woman’s concern but only to coldly inform her that she is outside his area of concern. She is a gentile, and his role (he is certain) is only to the lost sheep of Israel. Undeterred, the woman falls to the ground and begs him to help her. Jesus remains unmoved: “It is not fair to take the children’s food and feed it to the dogs.” The woman shrugs off the insult: “Even the dogs eat the crumbs,” she says.

At last Jesus is moved to help, though what changed his mind is not entirely clear. The woman’s faith alone seems unlikely to have forced Jesus to reverse centuries of antipathy towards the gentiles and his lifetime immersion in the Jewish faith and it practices .

What is clear though, is that when the woman approached the group, Jesus was so confident in his understanding of Judaism, so sure that he fully understood his mission (to the lost sheep of Israel), that he could see no reason to give this distraught woman the time of day. Until this conversation, Jesus was absolutely sure that he knew God’s will with regard to the gentiles, that he was knew the difference between right and wrong and who was in and who was out. He was so confident in his point of view that he was completely comfortable with his refusal to show the woman any compassion and he had no hesitation in insulting her to her face. In comparison to his self-righteous assurance, the woman’s anguish and grief was nothing. According to the Jewish law, the gentiles were outside God’s grace and there (or so Jesus thought) they should remain.

And yet now, Jesus makes a 180 degree turn. He lets go of a lifetime of conditioning and prejudice and comes to the realisation that the good news he brings is intended for all not just a few and that just as he has broken boundaries to include sinners, tax-collectors and prostitutes, so he is called to break down the barriers between Jew and Gentile.

What I find extraordinary is that the very person whom Jesus (and the religious system he represents) has deemed as unclean and unworthy to be included in the healing, restorative power of the kingdom is the same person who through her self-belief and perhaps through her recognition of Jesus and his mission, opens his eyes to his narrow-mindedness, his parochialism and his judgementalism and breaks through his self-assurance that he knows God’s will. Through this extraordinary encounter, Jesus becomes aware that God’s all-embracing love is big enough to include all people.

Jesus’ encounter with the Syro-Phoenician woman, should be a warning to all of us that we can never presume to speak for God, that we are foolish to think that the norms and attitudes that we have inherited from our forebears in faith are necessarily intended to stand for all time. If Jesus could let go of the beliefs, the biases, and the practices of his time, then we too should be open to the ways in which the Spirit is moving the church of our day.

Jesus saved his harshest words for the self-righteous people of his day, those who wanted to hold on to the past at all costs. Let us not be those people.

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