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.

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What are we expecting? The Transfiguration

August 6, 2023

Transfiguration (2) – 2023
Mark 9:2-10
Marian Free

In the name of God who reveals godself through Jesus Christ. Amen.

The nature of Jesus was a matter of much debate in the first few centuries of the Christian church. Theologians of the day wondered: Was Jesus divine? Was he human? Was he human only to become divine at the resurrection? Did he only appear to be human, but was really divine? If Jesus was the Son of God did this make him subordinate to God? and so on. This issue was a serious cause of contention and division until Constantine called the Council of Nicea to put an end to the debate once and for all. At that Council Bishops and theologians concluded (based on their studies of scripture) that Jesus was/is both fully human and fully divine. The Nicaean Creed, which we will say shortly, resulted from the Council and remains the standard of orthodoxy to this day.

“We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
the only Son of God,
eternally begotten of the Father,
God from God, Light from Light,
true God from true God,
begotten not made,
of one being through the Father,
through him all things were made.”

Despite this, there are some 1700 years later I still meet people who struggle to grasp that Jesus can be both fully God and fully human. I have some sympathy for their point of view. The gospels tell the story of Jesus’ very human existence. Jesus gets tired, sad, and angry. He needs to eat and sleep. He grieves and rejoices. In the end Jesus allows himself to be arrested and tortured and he even dies. It is true that Jesus performs miracles, but in many ways does not behave as one might expect God to behave. He mixes with the wrong kinds of people; he does not rain down fire on the cities that reject him, and he does not call angels to his aid. Again – he dies. (Surely God does not die!)

It is only in John’s gospel that we begin to see a clear understanding of Jesus’ divinity. The gospel begins with the claim that Jesus and God were co-creators of the universe and throughout that gospel Jesus claims that if “you have seen me, you have seen the Father” and “the Father and I are one”. The Gospel of John was written quite late and after some reflection, but our earliest records, the letters of Paul, make it clear that from the beginning Jesus’ divinity was taken for granted – even if it wasn’t explicit or clearly spelled out in a credal statement. In the letters, Paul uses the expressions “God, Lord and Spirit” interchangeably, indicating that he (and therefore the early church) took for granted that there was one God (Father, Son and Spirit) – even though it was to take a couple of centuries for theologians to formalize this faith into the doctrine of the Trinity and to make a definitive statement about the nature of Jesus.

We might wonder why it took the disciples and then the church so long to make up their minds, and why there was so much debate concerning the nature of Jesus. After all, readers of scripture know that the true nature of Jesus is announced at the very beginning of his public ministry. At Jesus’ baptism the spirit descends on Jesus and a voice declares: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” If that were not clear enough at Jesus’ transfiguration not only is Jesus transformed before Peter, James, and John, but the words pronounced at Jesus’ baptism are repeated: “This is my beloved Son, listen to him.”

It is important to note that unlike the first disciples, we have the benefit of hindsight and of two thousand years of church history and theology. The disciples might have had the advantage of knowing Jesus personally, but we have the gospels and the experience of the early believers to fall back on. We, for example can read about Jesus’ baptism, but so far as we know, none of the disciples were present and at least until the Transfiguration (and perhaps even then), the nature of Jesus was confusing. He did not conform to their expectations. He was not a king or a warrior. The priests and religious elite did not follow him and perhaps most puzzling of all was his prediction that he was going to suffer. Nothing had prepared Jesus’ followers for a suffering Christ. Jesus was not going to exert power over the authorities of this world (be they Jewish or Roman) – just the opposite. Jesus was going to allow the world to destroy him. No wonder the disciples were at a loss to understand who and what he was.

The scenario that leads into the account of the Transfiguration illustrates this tension perfectly. Jesus has asked the disciples: “Who do you say that I am?” And, after some false starts the disciples respond: Elijah, one of the prophets. Finally, Peter declares: “You are the Christ.” When however, Jesus continues by telling the disciples that: “Son of Man must undergo great suffering.” Peter cannot take this in and he pulls Jesus aside and rebukes him. Peter’s insight into the nature of Jesus is only partial. He simply cannot comprehend a suffering Christ. He wants Jesus to fit the model of the Christ that he holds in his head. His preconception about an anointed one colours his perception of the Jesus who is in front of him and blinds him to the possibility that Jesus could be anything other than a triumphant Messiah.

Seen from this angle, the Transfiguration is more than a vision or a revelation. It is more than an affirmation of Jesus’ divine yet human nature. Rather it is an exposè of the ways in which we, like Peter react to Jesus, our expectation that Jesus will fit our idea of what he should be, and of our desire to hold on to moments of transcendence so that we can ignore the harsh reality of a suffering Messiah. The Transfiguration is a reminder to us that we should not allow ourselves be blinded by our preconceived ideas of Jesus, that we should see Jesus as he was and that if we hope to know Jesus when he comes again, we must be open to all the ways in which God might reveal Godself to the world – however surprising and unexpected.

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Good fish and bad fish, black and white thinking

July 29, 2023

Pentecost 9 – 2023
Matthew 13:44-58
Marian Free

In the name of God, Earth-Maker, Pain-Pearer, Life-Giver. Amen.

Anya Cook is an American woman living in Florida. In the past twelve months, she was well into a much-wanted pregnancy when her waters broke. She presented to hospital only to be told that under the state’s new abortion law, she could not be offered medical assistance to deliver the baby. She was sent home. The following day, when she was at a hair salon, Anya miscarried in the salon bathroom. As a consequence, she had to undergo life-saving surgery. Another woman, Amanda Zurawksi, was diagnosed with Pre-term, pre-labour rupture of membranes when she was almost 18 weeks pregnant. Like Anya, she was refused an induction – her health was not considered to be seriously at risk until she became septic – only then were the doctors willing to intervene.

These are only two of the stories coming out of the United States since the Supreme Court handed control of abortion laws back to the states . Doctors in states where abortion has been made illegal are in an invidious situation. Abortion is allowed when the life of the mother is in danger. The question is, how imminent must death be and can that be determined within six weeks of falling pregnant – assuming a woman knows she is pregnant? As Dr Lisa Harris (an obstretrics-gynacaelogist and professor at the University of Michigan) puts it: “There are many conditions that people have that when they become pregnant, they’re OK in early pregnancy, but as pregnancy progresses, it puts enormous stress on all of the body’s organ systems – the heart, the lungs, the kidneys. So they may be fine right now – there’s no life-threatening emergency now – but three or four or five months from now, they may have life-threatening consequences.”

Penalties for those conducting abortions range from 4 years imprisonment to 99 years. Specialists are leaving those states where they feel that they cannot fulfill their oath to “do no harm” and it is reported that enrolments to study obstetrics and gynaecology have dropped by 5% nationally and more in states in which abortion is illegal. The health of pregnant women has been seriously compromised.

The awful decisions that doctors are being forced to make and the extraordinary health risks that some women are facing are a consequence of the sort of black and white thinking that says: “all abortions are evil,” and the certainty that many people have that they and their world view are incontrovertibly right.

Many of those who hold rigid views of right and wrong are Christians, who can back up their views with passages from scripture – including the parable which concludes Matthew’s series of parables today. The parable of the net seems to be clear – there are good and bad fish and the bad fish (the evil) will be sorted out and thrown into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth. It is no wonder that on reading this that there are those who are anxious to be clear as to what is right and what is wrong, so afraid are they of the consequences of being found to be bad.

This parable has always troubled me. In chapter 13, Matthew has gathered into one place the parables he intends to include in the gospel. Here are parables about indiscriminate sowing, about a tolerance for weeds, about a kingdom that grows unseen and that is worth more than anything in the world and finally a parable about fishing. it is only this last that concludes with a commentary that is both judgemental and punitive .

Unfortunately, all too often we take the parable out of context. The parable of the wheat and weeds has already demonstrated that the lines between good and bad are blurred (see last week’s post) and the story of Jacob which has been the focus of our Old Testament readings for several weeks is retold without judgment or a belief in condemnation. Jacob is both deceitful and deceived and yet it is Jacob whom God choses to name “Israel,” and it is Jacob’s sons who become the twelve tribes of Israel.

To refresh your memory – Jacob convinces his brother Esau to give up his birthright for a bowl of lentils then, encouraged by his mother, he deceives his father into giving him the deathbed blessing that belonged to Esau. Jacob flees to his uncle to escape the wrath of his brother. There he himself is deceived when his uncle gives him the older daughter in marriage, when it was the younger with whom he was in love. Finally, Jacob returns home. Miraculously all is forgiven, Esau makes way for Jacob and Jacob becomes Israel – the one from whom a nation was formed that exists even to this day.

The Old Testament is filled with such contradictions – Moses was a murderer, David an adulterer, Job was an avoider and a sulker – and yet they and others are not thrown into a fiery furnace but are used by God and held in high esteem in the Judeo-Christian tradition.

Perhaps this is the reason that Jesus is so reluctant to judge, to draw clear lines between good and bad, why he was not afraid to associate with tax collectors, prostitutes and sinners and why he says things like: “Judge not so that you will not be judged”, “first take the log from your own eye”, and “let the one without sin cast the first stone.”

God, it seems, is able to see the good as well as the bad and to hold them in tension (as was demonstrated in the parable of the wheat and the weeds). God sees in us both the good and the bad and loves us regardless. God understands the circumstances in which we might do things that otherwise we might not do (admit that legalising abortion is essential for the health of a mother). God uses that which is good in us yet is not blind to our shortcomings. There will be a reckoning, a time when we are shriven of all that belongs in the kingdom, but until then God will let the wheat grow with the weeds and the good and bad fish will swim together.

Black and white thinking puts us in the place of God. We need to liberate ourselves from such narrow thinking, open ourselves to the possibility that not everything is as it seems, and finally not take judgment into our own hands, but leave it to God who alone sees everything as it really is.

 

I found this image on Facebook it was too perfect not to use, I apologise that I could not identify the source. Please let me know who created it so I can acknowledge them. (I have contacted the person who posted it.)

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Not our place to judge

July 22, 2023

Pentecost 8 – 2023
Matthew 13:24-30
Marian Free

In the name of God who loves us as we are. Amen.

Last week the preacher in the parish in which I worship pointed out the number of contrary positions that could be defended with reference to the Bible. Within its pages you can find support for the full inclusion of women in ministry and support for the exclusion of women. From the Bible you can justify both eating meat and an admonition not to eat meat. One can use the Bible to argue that God is a vengeful judge, but equally to demonstrate that God will never execute judgement. People have used the Bible to defend domestic violence and others can point to passages that condemn it. And so the list goes on.

Sadly, the current situation in the world-wide Anglican Church is evidence of the ways in which the Bible can be used to support opposing views and the lengths to which different sides of the debate will go to to protect their stance.

It is possible to say that these contradictions come about because our scriptures were written by humans with human failings – and that would be true. It is equally possible that we hold a faith that is able to hold contradictions in tension, that refuses to be starkly black and white and refuses the sort of dualism that neatly defines good and bad but acknowledges the grey areas that are part and parcel of being human.

Today’s parable goes some way to addressing this situation. A householder sows a field with wheat only to have enemies come in the night and plant weeds in the field. (We are told that the weed is darnel – a plant that is remarkably like wheat, but which is poisonous and which among other things causes hallucinations if eaten.) When the slaves ask if they should pull up the weeds they are astounded that the householder tells them to allow the plants to grow together until harvest – only then he says will the weeds be gathered and burned.

The wheat and the weeds are an illustration of the contradictions of this life. Just as the wheat is almost indistinguishable from the darnel, so too, the difference between good and evil is not always easy to discern. Good intentions can have unintended consequences that lead to harm . Apparently good people can limit the growth of others through criticism and disapproval and most of us contain within us the good and the bad and most of us will spend a lifetime living with the tension.

The good news of this parable is that God can hold the ambiguities and paradoxes of human existence in tension. God does not intend to violently and preemptively reach into our individual and collective lives to destroy all that is bad. God understands that ‘fixing’ one area of our collective and individual lives can cause harm in other areas of our lives. God can see the good that we intend and patiently forgive the harm that we do (to ourselves and others). God recognises that no one is wholly good and that no one is wholly bad and God is prepared to patiently go the distance with us, to support us uncritically as we struggle with the weeds that make up our lives. Finally, it God (not us) who will ensure that that only what is good in us will be gathered into the kingdom.

God our creator is only too aware of our shortcomings. If God can allow the weeds to grow with the wheat perhaps we should learn to be more gentle with ourselves and more forgiving of others. If God can live with the contradictions within and among us, perhaps we should be less willing to define what is right and wrong, good and bad, less sure that we know what exactly it is God wants. If God can withhold judgement until the end, perhaps it is time for us to suspend judgement of others and of ourselves.

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Sowing seeds, heedless of where they will fall

July 15, 2023

Pentecost 7 – 2023 (Thoughts)
Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23
Marian Free

In the name of God who brought all things from nothing. Amen.

A fear that has accompanied (but not dominated) me for most of my faith life is that the church is going to die. It is going to die because we (the churchgoers) do not do enough. To be explicit: apparently we don’t make worship attractive enough, we don’t sing the right hymns, we don’t offer morning tea, we don’t have enough entry points (craft groups, sports associations etc), or we don’t have a drum kit – the list is endless. From my mid-teens on, I have been party to discussions as to what has caused people to leave the church in droves and what it is that we who remain can do to make the church grow.

People of my generation and upwards are worried about church growth (or lack of it) in part because we have come from a place of complacency and privilege, a place in which church was a part of the social fabric of people’s lives. In the 1950’s and 60’s e7uuen those who were not regular attenders had some sort of connection to the church. They were baptised, married, and buried from a church. They were members of the Guild, took part in working bees, made cakes or cooked sausages for fetes and they sent their children to Sunday School. The wider community upheld a belief in the sacredness of Sundays which meant that there was no competition for people’s time on a Sunday morning.

A lot has changed and, tempted as I am to rehearse all those changes, I will leave it to you to revise all the arguments that have been made on the subject during the last 50 years.

Whatever the reason, we cannot argue with the fact that once full churches are sadly depleted. Churches have been closed, some can only afford part-time priests and some parishes have no priest at all but have combined with a neighbouring parish for priestly oversight.

As our numbers have declined, so our obsession with the situation has grown. Yet, for all our navel gazing and problem solving nothing has substantially changed. If anything, the situation has got worse and, with fewer people in our churches, there are fewer people to address the problem – at least if there is a problem.

By that I mean, that what to us is an issue, might not be an issue at all, that our worry might be misplaced and that our time could be better spent. I say this because it occurs to me that our collective response to decreasing congregations says a great deal about us and what it says is not good. Indeed, our anxiety about the state of the church reveals a deep-seated anxiety that without structures and institutions, God’s ability to act in the lives of those around us is impeded and that without churches to proclaim the gospel there will be no way for people to encounter the living God.

In other words, our fixation with the survival of the church exposes a belief that we feel that we are responsible for God’s presence in the world that we have come to think that without us (without the Church), God will somehow sink into oblivion. How could we be so arrogant, so self-assured, to have convinced ourselves that God’s survival depends on us! What an extraordinary idea! Over the centuries we have come to believe that the Church represents God’s presence in the world and therefore, without the Church God’s efficacy will be severely hampered. Somehow, we have come to the conclusion that God needs our help to exist, that God relies on us to such an extent that our keeping the Church alive (in its present state) is an absolute imperative?

I believe that the parable of the Sower speaks to this situation, relieves us of our sense of responsibility and helps to place things in perspective. Often, when we read the parable (and its explanation) we focus on the fate of the seed and worry about the way in which the word is received according to where the seed falls. However, if we focus on the Sower (whom we take to be God), we can see that the parable asks us to place our trust where it belongs – in God and not in ourselves. In the parable the Sower tosses the precious seed with wild abandon heedless of where it will fall. This Sower is not concerned where the seed will land or whether or not it will take root. The Sower is not troubled by such things as permanency, nor is the Sower trying to build something that will last for millennia. The Sower is simply anxious to spread the seed as widely and generously and possible – confident that what does take root will bear fruit.

In all this the Sower does not ask for help – in the sowing, the nurturing or the harvesting. The Sower does not seem to be concerned about locking in a fixed and unchanging future, but rather is confident that something will happen and relaxed as to how it will happen.

I wonder what would happen if we were able to let go of the burden of maintaining our churches – physical and otherwise – open ourselves to God’s careless abandon, and to see in what new ways God is being revealed in the world today.

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The place of the flesh – Romans 7

July 8, 2023

Pentecost 6 -2023
Romans 7:14-25
Marian Free

In the name of God, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver. Amen.

In today’s reading from Romans, we hear this heartfelt cry: “Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?” The text continues: “So then, with my mind I am a slave to the law of God, but with my flesh I am a slave to the law of sin.” These words have led generations of Christians to believe a) that it is impossible to do the right thing and b) that the body/flesh is inherently bad and cannot be controlled. The negative effects of such an understanding are incalculable. The former has created an atmosphere in which faithful Christians are burdened with the feeling that no matter what they do, they will not be able to please God and the latter has led to an attitude that the body is a traitor that has to be subdued, if not punished .

Paul, who was utterly confident in his salvation, would have been mortified to learn that his words had been so misunderstood, or that members of the Christian community thought that he struggled to do the right thing, or that he rejected his physical self. Even before his encounter with Jesus, Paul was convinced that under the law he was blameless (Phil 3:6)! It is inconceivable that now, having been reconciled with Christ (Rom 5:11), Paul would have an existential crisis about his worth. Paul, who believed that he (and we) was saved by faith, would not be saying towards the end of his life that all his efforts had come to nothing.

Unfortunately, the lectionary does us a disservice in its selection of verses from the letter to the Romans which of all Paul’s letters is the most carefully constructed, would ideally be studied as a whole.

Our reading today is a case in point. It belongs to a section of the letter which begins in chapter 5 and continues through to chapter 8. Chapter 5 begins with the confident claim: “Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ,” a sentiment that is echoed at the beginning of chapter 8: “There is therefore now. no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and death” (1,2). Indeed, even in today’s reading we hear Paul’s triumphant cry: “Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (7:25). Throughout this section, Paul constantly reminds readers that “while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son” (5:10) and that “sin will have no more dominion over you” (6:14). Overall, Paul’s message throughout these chapters is a positive message about the consequence of Christ’s obedience for all who have come to faith.

Simply put, in Chapters 5 through 8 Paul is describing the battle between two competing powers or dominions – the power of sin/flesh (which includes law and death) and the power of the spirit (which leads to reconciliation and life). Paul is not speaking of himself or his own personal struggle, but of the order of things in the world – an order brought into being by Adam that Christ has now put to rights through the cross. Here and elsewhere, Paul is not thinking of ‘flesh’ as the physical stuff of which we are made , but as a power that (without Christ) has a hold on us. We choose to be under the dominion of the ‘flesh’ (sin, death and the law) or under the dominion of the ‘spirit’.

In chapter 7 Paul is grappling with the place of the law in the newly emerging faith. The law, he argues here and elsewhere, was a temporary solution to deal with sin, which entered the world through Adam. The law (though holy, just and good) was only ever a temporary solution and even so it was co-opted by sin and death.

The apparent contradiction between wretchedness and triumph that underlie today’s reading, lie in Paul’s use of Greek rhetoric. It is important to note that Paul is not using his own voice here, but, in the manner of an actor, is playing a role. That is to say, the “I” here is not a self-referent, but belongs to a character that Paul has assumed – possibly that of Adam. Adam has been in view from the beginning of this section (5:12) where Paul identifies Adam with sin. In 7:7-12, Paul returns to Adam without specifically naming him. referring to “I once lived apart from the law” can only refer to Adam because, according to our scriptures, only one person lived before the law, and this was the first human, Adam.

As is the case with all of scripture, so too, with Romans 7 – it must be read in the light, not only of its own context, but in the light of scripture as a whole which, as one scholar has said, is God’s love letter to humanity. The God who created us, saw us and said that we were “very good”, the Psalmist praises God saying: “I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made” and, far from rejecting human flesh, God sent his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh” (8:3).

Rejection of the body is rejection of the one who created us. A sense of unworthiness is a failure to grasp that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” and that “while we were still weak, Christ died for the ungodly.” There is no expectation here or elsewhere that God demands perfection or that the body is a source of embarrassment and shame. Paul’s victorious cry at the end of chapter 7 and his assertion in chapter 8 that “there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ” places this whole section in a positive light and serves to remind us – not how weak and despised we are – but how much we are loved, and how much God in Christ has done for us.

Michael Gorman, Apostle of the Crucified Lord. Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2017 has provided the following helpful summary of. Chapters 5 – 8, p 430 (in the second edition).

Text             Narrative Perspective                   Antithesis                     Theme                                  Cross
5:1-11                Overview                         Enemies vs friends      Justification as reconciliation    God’s love                        

5:12-21             Cosmic,                             Adam vs Christ            Free from sin, under grace       Christ’s 

                          or salvation historical                                                                                                   obedience
6:1-7:6               Baptismal                     Slavery to sin                  Dead to sin, alive to God           Christ

                                                                   vs slavery to righteousness                                               crucified
7:7-8:39           Existential                       Flesh vs Spirit             In the Spirit not in the flesh        Believers’          

                                                                                                                                                     death to the old life,       

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Giving cups of water. Who is in and who is out?

July 1, 2023

Pentecost 5 – 2023
Matthew 10:40-42
Marian Free

In the name of God, who reveals Godself to us in many and varied ways. Amen.

If I am honest, I would have to say that these verses from Matthew have always troubled me, partly because I am not entirely sure what the author is getting at and partly because Matthew’s retelling of this saying is so different from the accounts in Mark and Luke.

There are only three verses in today’s gospel, but they are quite complex. What does it mean for example when it says: “whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous?” The implication seems to be that the person doing the welcoming is themselves righteous and even that the one welcoming a prophet, does so at least on behalf of a prophet. If this is the case, Matthew is drawing a line that we do not find in Luke or Mark.

Matthew records these sayings in the context of Jesus’ sending the disciples out into a hostile world in which they risk being handed over to both the religious and civil authorities and in which families will be divided, “brother will (even) handover brother to death.” Jesus has warned the disciples that he has come not to bring peace but a sword and that whoever loves father or mother more than they love him, is not worthy of him.

It seems that in this context Matthew is using these sayings of Jesus to encourage believers to look inward – to protect and support their own. If the world is not a safe place, the believing community will have to pull up the drawbridge to protect themselves and at the same time they will have to ensure that they take care of each other. Certainly, in Matthew’s gospel the expression: “little ones”, used in connection with giving a cup of water, is a Matthean term for members of the community.

Understood in this way, Matthew’s language is inward looking not outward looking.

I don’t have to tell you that the authors of the Synoptic gospels tell the Jesus’ story very differently. Depending on their particular agenda, they arrange the material in a particular way and place their emphases in different places so as to give Jesus’ sayings a nuance that is relevant to their purpose. As I have studied and preached on Matthew over more than two decades, it has seemed to me that the author of Matthew presents the gospel as more exclusive – more inclined to define those who are “in” and those who are “out.”

Of course, we don’t know exactly when Jesus said what or where he was when he said it, but the sayings recorded by Matthew in this setting include two that are unique to him and two that occur in some form in Mark and Luke. Both Luke and Mark have the saying about receiving a disciple and Mark also has the saying about someone giving a cup of water. According to Mark (Chapter 9) the disciples have been arguing about who is the greatest. In response Jesus takes a child and says: “Whoever receives one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever receives me receives not me but the one who sent me” (9:36). Immediately following this, the disciple John complains to Jesus that he saw someone (not a disciple) casting out demons in Jesus’ name. Jesus replies that anyone who is not against them is for them and “whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.”

Mark’s memory or intention is to give the impression of an open community in which whoever acts in a Christ-like way cannot by definition, be against the community of faith, but rather is sympathetic. towards them and as such is entitled to be rewarded. Mark’s context for the sayings is one of chiding – not encouraging – the disciples.

In Luke (Chapter 9), the saying is reported in much the same way as in Mark – that is the first saying is Jesus’ response to an argument as to who is the greatest. Again, Jesus takes a child and says to the disciples: “Whoever welcomes this child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me receives the one who sent me; for the least among all of you is the greatest.” Again, the complaint about someone casting out demons follows, to which Jesus says: “Whoever is not against you is for you.”
Matthew does include the saying about receiving a child (18:1), but he leaves out the story about the non-disciple casting out demons thus forgoing an opportunity to demonstrate Jesus’ inclusivity, Jesus’ understanding that those who were not signed up members of the community were to be valued, not ostracised, and that those who were sympathetic to the movement were to be treated as if they were members. In other words, Mark and Luke seem to avoid the hard and fast boundaries that are beginning to appear in Matthew’s gospel.

That, I know is a lot to take in, especially when, unlike me, you cannot place the texts side by side. What is important to note is that the gospel writers are quite liberal in the way in which they use Jesus’ sayings, both in the actual wording and in the context in which they place them.

The choice of gospel today and the parallel texts in Mark and Luke provide a good example of the need to see scripture as a whole, rather than focusing solely on one passage. Our scriptures – the Old and New Testaments – were written at different times in history and for entirely different purposes. A close reading will throw up contradictions, multiple versions of one event and differing interpretations of the same. The Bible also contains a variety of forms of expression – history, prophecy, poetry, letters – which need to be read and understood in ways appropriate to their form.

None of this is intended to undermine the value of individual accounts, nor does it give us permission to neglect or dismiss those things that do not fit our idea of what the scriptures say. Studying scripture enables us to understand why differences exist, the contexts in which the differences arose and what they might have meant to those who first heard them. When we study the gospels, we are better able to understand the experience and the needs of the believing communities in the latter years of the first century and to allow that understanding to inform and shape our own practice and ministry.

When we compare the ways in which the Synoptic gospels have recorded the sayings that we heard from Matthew today, we might conclude that they first occurred in a missional context, in which Jesus is telling the disciples, that those who respond positively to them are already on their way to receiving Jesus, and that those who support them (be it simply with a cup of water) will be rewarded – even if they are not card-carrying believers.

Are these words that we need to hear and does it help us to be less anxious that people are not coming to church, and more willing to affirm and encourage the good will that they show and the good that they do?

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God is not ours to control

June 24, 2023

Pentecost 4 – 2023
Matthew 10:24-39
Marian Free

In the name of God whose ways are not our ways, whose timing is not our timing. Amen.

How you might wonder does a preacher know what to preach – especially when confronted by such diverse and complex readings as we have before us this morning? It is difficult to pass over the pettiness of Sarah and of Abraham’s willingness to collude with her mean spiritednesses. How can one possibly declare (as we did) that this is the word of God? Paul’ letter to the Romans is rich and complex but again, for the sake of time, this too has to be passed over. My habit, as is the Anglican tradition, has been to focus on the gospel, but today’s gospel – as last week’s – consists of several parts. To give the passage the attention it deserves would warrant longer than we have. So to answer my question – in the first instance I read the set texts (hoping that some idea or theme will leap out). Second, I read what other people have to say – what have they made of these diverse readings? If this fails to produce inspiration I will repeat the process until an idea begins to form. Throughout the process I place myself in God’s hands through prayer and reflection, trusting that the Holy Spirit will and does guide me.

Sometimes I am as surprised as you might be as to where I land.

This week for instance, I was convinced that the gospel provided good material for a sermon on persecution – what it is, and why some who claim to be persecuted are not. A re-reading, however, convinced me that, just as this week’s gospel concluded that begin last week, so the theme of prayer could be addressed through Jesus words to his listeners. (That is to say I saw the gospel in a new light – a light I trust given through the Spirit).

Last week I wondered whether we thought that God had a magic wand with which (if we prayed hard enough, or in the right way) God could answer our prayers. Today’s gospel makes it clear that this is not how God acts. In fact, today’s gospel is shocking and confronting to any of us who have a simplistic, naïve faith. If we believe in a God who is benign at best and a frustrated parent at worst, then Jesus’ words today fill us with disquiet – “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father,and a daughter against her mother.” These words (and indeed those that precede them don’t conform to a picture of a Jesus who is warm, loving and protective. This angry, challenging Jesus makes us want to look the other way, to disassociate ourselves (surely he can’t mean what he is saying!)

Throughout history we have simplified and domesticated our faith. We have smoothed off the rough edges, seen conformity to the norms of society as an indication of our goodness and our moral standing. We associate ‘rocking the boat’ with non-conformist radicals, nothing to do with good upstanding Christian citizens.

We are ill-equipped to hear what Jesus is saying. But Jesus is saying something really important. His confronting language serves as a corrective to all of us who think that we know what God should do and how God should do it. Jesus reminds us that God is not ours to control (through prayer or any other means). He defies our desire that he will bring peace, restore order or conform to our expectations that faith is not costly or that as a consequence of his coming all differences between us will be dissolved. He makes it clear that he cannot change the world without first changing us.

Contrary to what we want to believe, Jesus warns us that faith can be, and often is divisive – because it calls us to stand for justice, to love the unlovable, to welcome the rejected. Our faith might bring us comfort- but Jesus warns that it is just as likely to make us uncomfortable. While he wants to shake us out of our complacency, to remind us that no amount of prayer will force God’s hand, Jesus is also keen to reassure us. We need not be afraid. Even if strife is raging around us and our prayers seem to fall on deaf ears. God knows each one of us – down to the hairs on our head and, even in the midst of our troubles God is with us, supporting and sustaining us.

In the final analysis instead of expecting God to do what we want, we have to trust God. We do not try to bend God to our will or, expect God to do what we think God should do. Through prayer we place ourselves in God’s hands, seek God’s will and rely on God’s strength to face the chaos in which we find ourselves.

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Prayer changes us

June 17, 2023

Pentecost 3 – 2023
Matthew 9:35-10:8
Marian Free

In the name of God whose faith in us is beyond our imagining. Amen.

How and for what do you pray? What do you expect from your prayers? Are you sometimes completely overwhelmed by the needs of the world? Do you sometimes feel that you are inadequate for the task – that even if you did pray hard enough there would not be enough people who cared enough to alleviate suffering? Do you worry that no matter how much you pray some situations simply remain the same? Do you wonder why God does not appear to act?

At the moment many of our prayers are focussed on the peoples of the Ukraine and Sudan, but there are conflicts all over the world that equally deserve our attention and our prayers. When I wonder did you or your church community last pray for the Khmer, the people of Syria or of the Congo or the countless other places still at war? We are rightly focussed on refugees who have fled recent conflicts and especially those who risk drowning at sea, but that means we tend to forget that there are thousands who have lived in refugee camps their entire lives or that in Palestine there are generations of families who have lived in camps. It is the same situation with victims of natural disasters – we simply cannot pray for everyone impacted by fire, flood, cyclone, and our memories tend to focus on more recent events. In 2020, COVID took our attention away from those who had lost everything in the bush fires of January that year and the floods in Northern NSW and elsewhere are, to many of us a distant memory – and yet there are hundreds, if not thousands of people (in this nation alone) who are still trying to rebuild homes and lives.

At the moment those who are impacted by the increased cost of living, rising interest rates and the rental crisis are front and centre in the minds of many of us and yet we are limited in what we can actually do. Our contribution to a Parish Pantry or other charities will not alleviate the pain for one family even for one day, and few of us can afford to purchase accommodation that could be made available for the homeless.

In the face of such mind-numbing issues, it is tempting to wish that God would wave a magic wand, end wars and alleviate poverty and suffering in the world. Yet if that were how God solved problems there would be no need to pray. God would already have responded. Why, in the face of so much anguish does God appear to stand idly by? The answer of course is complex, but God’s apparent inaction reflects God’s faith in us and God’s longing for us to be a part of the solution.

That this is how God responds is reflected in this morning’s gospel, especially in verses 36-38: ‘When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”’

First century Palestine had been under Roman occupation for decades. Land that once fed generations of families had been taken by the occupiers and given as a reward to Caesar’s soldiers. Everything was taxed – the roads, the crops, the right to fish. The church authorities were either Roman appointments or were people who had cow towed to the Romans. As a consequence, the vast majority of the population felt harassed, oppressed and utterly powerless to effect change.

Faced with the suffering and helplessness of the people, Jesus seems to be overwhelmed. You can almost hear him sigh with despair as he observes that they are like sheep without a shepherd. He is filled with compassion. The Greek word “splagnizothai” (compassion) refers to an emotion felt deep within one’s belly, with one’s whole self. In other words, Jesus’ inner being was overwhelmed with concern – but, like God, Jesus doesn’t wave a magic wand. Indeed, he doesn’t even enlist God’s assistance. Instead, what Jesus does is to pray that there might be enough will in enough people to bring about change.

The need is clear, the solution is not to miraculously make it go away but to send people to fill the need – people of compassion – to heal, to console, to challenge unjust structures, to work for peace.

Seen another way, Jesus prays not for the world to change, but for us to change. As long as there are greedy, selfish, power-hungry people in the world there will be wars, injustice, and inequity. As long as people put themselves first we will continue to rape the planet, change the weather patterns, and induce climate change. As long we continue to believe that it is someone else’s (God’s) problem nothing will change.

Mother Teresa said: “I used to believe that prayer changes things, but now I know that prayer changes us and we change things.

In the end, prayer should change us. It should open us to the ways in which we contribute to the ills of the world; reveal to us our selfishness and lack of action; and open us to the Spirit of God working within us.

We are called to be God’s co-conspirators in changing the world for the better.
We are the labourers for whom Jesus prays. Only when we change can we begin to change the world.

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Models of ministry

June 10, 2023

Pentecost 2 -2023
Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26
Marian Free

In the name of Source of all being, Word of Life, Eternal Spirit. Amen.

Have you ever read or tried to read Tolstoy’s War and Peace? From memory, the list of characters extends over two pages. That, and the unfamiliarity of the names, made it impossible for me to read beyond the first chapter. Dicken’s Bleak House was not quite so challenging but, because it was written as a serial, and because there are several sub-plots, I found it difficult to follow the thread of the separate stories and to remember a character whom I hadn’t heard from for four or five chapters.

Thankfully, the gospels do not pose such a problem because the vignettes are short and the primary characters consistent. In today’s gospel, there are several unrelated sub-plots – Jesus encounters several unrelated characters whose stories do not appear to be making a particular point or leading to a conclusion. The passage begins when Jesus sees Matthew and calls him to follow. Jesus then has dinner with tax collectors and sinners and responds to the criticisms of the Pharisees. Then in the paragraph omitted by the lectionary writers (a few characters too many?) Jesus answers a question about fasting that is posed by John’s disciples. In the verses given to us for today, Jesus is approached by the leader of the synagogue and while he is on way to raise the synagogue leader’s daughter, he is touched by the woman with a haemorrhage. Finally, at the house of the synagogue leader, Jesus has to confront the grieving crowds. (Were we to read on we would see that Matthew continues the story with the healing of two blind men and healing a man who was mute.)

In only one of these encounters is Jesus’ identity mentioned – when the blind men call out: “Have mercy on us Son of David.”

The purpose of the stories then, is not to tell us who Jesus is, but more to give an insight into how Jesus is. The encounters tell us about the character of Jesus, how he behaves, with whom he interacts and, to a lesser extent, what he teaches. The reactions to Jesus, the questions of the Pharisees and John’s disciples, and the grief of the crowds. are indicative of the very human responses which Jesus’ actions elicit – criticism, confusion, lack of trust.

Through the eyes of this gospel writer, we are shown that Jesus was a risk-taker. He sees Matthew at the tax booth and says simply: “Follow me.” There is no job-interview, test of character, or referees. Jesus sees in Matthew something that no one else has seen and trusts his intuition that Matthew will make a suitable disciple.

Jesus sets no boundaries on his ministry – who might join him and with whom he might associate. He and his disciples are not discerning about whom they dine with, drawing criticism from the Pharisees (who believe that God insists that Jews keep themselves separate from Gentiles and sinners). In response to their criticism, Jesus uses his knowledge of scripture to firmly correct the narrow, judgmental, and smug attitudes of his critics.

When John’s disciples express their confusion about the differences between Jesus and John, Jesus uses practical, everyday imagery to help them understand that there is a proper time for everything. It is appropriate that John’s disciples fast, but the time has not yet come for Jesus’ disciples to do the same.

Jesus doesn’t hesitate when the synagogue leader asks him to do the impossible, but he is not so focussed on raising the young girl that he cannot stop and give his full attention to the woman with a haemorrhage. Nor is he deterred by the mourners when he reaches his destination but remains focussed on what he has come to do.

The way in which Jesus responds to each of these situations reveals something about the nature of Jesus and of his ministry. Through these encounters Jesus shows us how to be courageous, inclusive, non-judgmental, open, empathetic, unhurried, and life-giving. By the way in which he interacts, he makes it clear that he doesn’t have criteria by which he determines who may or may not be a disciple, with whom he will or will not associate or whom he will or will not heal. He is not cowed by the Pharisees, confused by John’s disciples, or caught off guard when the woman touches his cloak. He will not be bound by social convention, religious expectation, or stereotypical definitions.

From these encounters we can deduce that Jesus is self-assured and confident of his role. He will not be rushed or forced to do anything he does not want to do. So, while we might hold our breath when Jesus stops to attend to the woman with a haemorrhage – instead of hurrying to the already dead girl – Jesus is clear that attending to the person in front of him will not detract from his ministry to the person who awaits him. (He is not so full of his self-importance that he feels he has to ignore the woman to get to the child and his closeness to God enables him to trust that all will be well.)

This lengthy passage, with its variety of scenarios, provides a model of inclusive community and of pastoral care. Jesus demonstrates through his reactions to those whom he meets that no one is to be excluded and no one is to be given priority over anyone else. He makes it clear that ego has no place in ministry and, in stopping to address the woman who has touched him, Jesus proves how important (and life-giving) it is to be fully present to those whom we encounter – rather than worrying about where we have to be and what we have to do.

Jesus’ interactions become a model for our interactions and his character a model for us to aspire to. The responses of the Pharisees (and of John’s disciples) provide a yardstick against which to measure our own reactions especially to those who like Jesus, break cultural norms or religious expectations.

May Jesus always be our model and our guide, and may we with him be open and compassionate, confident and wise, responsive and present, that our interactions with others may be sensitive, respectful and life-giving.

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