You have heard it said, but I say

February 11, 2023

Epiphany 6 – 2023
Matthew 5:21-37
Marian Free

In the name of God, who sees not only our outward behaviours, but who also knows the state of our hearts. Amen.

“But let’s not fool ourselves; there is a place called hell. It’s the place we create for each other every time we choose an easy and austere legalism over an arduous and radical love.”

As I prepared for this week’s sermon, I was particularly taken by this quote from Debie Thomas’s reflection on today’s passage. Jesus’ teaching and, in particular the way in which Matthew records Jesus’ teaching, has all too often led to a narrow, legalistic and therefore harsh, judgemental and condemnatory understanding of Jesus’ teaching and therefore of God.

A first look at the so-called anti-theses of the Sermon on the Mount would certainly seem to suggest that Jesus is presenting a stricter, tighter view of the law than the contemporary interpretation of it. Six times he says: “I have heard it said, but I say to you.” “You have heard it said: ‘Do not murder,’ but I say to you whoever calls their brother ‘fool’ is liable to the hell of fire.” “You have heard it said: ‘you shall not commit adultery’, but I say to you: ‘whoever looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery in with her in his heart.’” When one considers that Jesus has introduced these verses by saying that he had not come to abolish the law, but to fulfill it, it is possible to mistakenly believe that Jesus’ purpose was to ensure strict adherence to the letter of the law, and to refine the definition of certain laws so that there might be no mistaking what it meant to break the law.

A closer reading of the text (and the gospel as a whole) reveals that Jesus’ intention is just the opposite – that instead of imposing “an easy and austere legalism” he is preaching “an arduous and radical love”. Jesus is not, as it might first appear, insisting that his followers be more righteous than the scribes and the Pharisees. Instead, he is using exaggeration to expose the absurdity of a strict legalistic point of view. Jesus makes it clear that while it is relatively easy to obey the letter of the law, it is almost impossible to truly honour the intention of the law – which is a relationship with God and with each other that is free from pettiness, competition, hatred, selfishness, and all other emotions that come between us. Indirectly then, Jesus is making it clear to the self-righteous, law-abiding citizens of Israel, that it is not the letter of the law, but the spirit of the law that is important. In other words, a superficial observance of the law will not change the heart, nor will it restore broken relationships, demonstrate compassion, show forgiveness or indicate understanding instead, it will lead to judgmentalism and self-righteousness or to self-loathing, fear, and anxiety.

That Jesus is using hyperbole is evident in the phrase with which this section of the Sermon on the Mount concludes: “Be perfect therefore as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Jesus’ listeners would have understood that no one could achieve perfection, let alone compare themselves with God. This would have put all that preceded these words into perspective. They would have realised that if no one can be perfect and in true humility have lowered their expectations of themselves and others – making them less judgemental and more tolerant and forgiving.

That Jesus is critiquing the outward observance of law is evidenced in the next section of the Sermon (which will be read on Ash Wednesday) in which Jesus warns against “practicing piety before others in order to be seen by them” (6:1). That Jesus’ interpretation is expansive rather than restrictive and that he is speaking of “radical love not narrow legalism” is demonstrated through a thorough investigation of this whole argument – not simply of the three anti-theses that we are asked to read today.

There are six anti-theses in all. In each Jesus expands the contemporary interpretation of the law – emphasising generosity of spirit over hardness of heart. If the first four can be misread as Jesus’ tightening legal restrictions, the last two certainly cannot and it is in the light of these (and in what follows), that we must interpret them all. “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. But I say to you Do not resist an evil doer. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile” (5:38-42). “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, ‘Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you’” (5:43-47).

Jesus begins with the 6th commandment: “You shall not murder.” Then, as now, there would have been people who congratulated themselves for keeping the 10 commandments and thought that thereby they had fulfilled the requirements of the law. They would have congratulated themselves because they were not murderers or adulterers, not thinking to ask if at the same time they despised or demeaned other people, or whether they objectified or depersonalised women – faults that are not so blatant to be sure, but which are equally damaging.

It is people such as these whom Jesus is calling to task. He is exposing the fact that keeping the letter of the law is relatively easy, but that we can’t congratulate ourselves for not being murderers when our hearts are filled with hatred or contempt for our fellow human beings. Jesus’ anti-theses are not intended to create a new legalism or to weigh his listeners down with impossible demands. Rather by using hyperbole to make his point, Jesus’ anti-theses shine a light on a narrow interpretation of the law which is limited and limiting, controlling, and damaging –to the perpetrator as well as to the target.

Jesus exposes the limitations of an interpretation of the law which allows people (who have adopted and “easy and austere legalism”) to believe that they have fulfilled the law’s requirements, and which gives them permission to overlook their shortcomings.

Through six ante-theses, Jesus enlarges the understanding of the law, reminding us that perfection is almost certainly beyond our reach. In so doing Jesus saves us from self-reliance, self-satisfaction and pride – which are the real sins that separate each other from God.

“But let’s not fool ourselves; there is a place called hell. It’s the place we create for each other every time we choose an easy and austere legalism over an arduous and radical love.”

The law stands, but its interpretation may not

February 4, 2023

Epiphany 5 – 2023
Matthew 5:13-20
Marian Free

In the name of God, source of all being, word of life and abiding spirit. Amen.

If Jesus had been one of the theological students in the Parish, and you had to write a sermon review on the Sermon on the Mount, what might you have said? If it were me I might have commented that while some of the material was helpful, the sermon was too long, that it consisted of a series of apparently unconnected sayings and that it would have been useful if the sermon had a theme which the preacher introduced, explained and concluded.

The current Pope has had a lot to say about preaching, including his recent off-the cuff comment that homilies at Catholic churches were a “disaster”. He suggested that every sermon be no longer than 8-10 minutes and that they include “a thought, a feeling and an image.” According to these criteria, the Sermon on the Mount does not come up to standard. (It is too long for starters.)

Indeed, if one was to believe that the gospels were real-time accounts of Jesus’ teaching, one would have to imagine Jesus – as one movie of his life depicts him – wandering through Palestine, spouting apparently unconnected lists of sayings. Take chapter 6 for example, “Do not store up treasures on earth, the eye is the lamp of the body, no one can serve two masters, do not worry about tomorrow” and so on. It is difficult to see in what way these sayings are related and to understand why Jesus would simply utter them one after the other without providing any explanation.

In reality, Jesus almost certainly did not speak like this and what we now call the “Sermon on the Mount” was probably no such thing. It is unlikely that Jesus, who appears to have been an excellent teacher, would have thought that making a list of apparently unconnected pronouncements – to a large crowd, from a sitting position – was good pedagogical practice. A more likely scenario (as I have suggested in the Parish Notes) is, that after his death, Jesus’ followers repeated his sayings to each other and to new believers and that over time these sayings were gathered together. Then, when Matthew and Luke wrote their accounts of Jesus, they accessed this material and used it according to their particular narrative purpose.

In the case Matthew, the author has organised Jesus’ sayings into five distinct groups – broadly speaking, the law, mission, parables of the kingdom, instructions for community living and judgement. These so-called discourses are separated by narratives about Jesus’ life, his journeys and healings. Of the discourses, the first and longest collection of sayings – three chapters in all – is centred around a discussion of the law and Jesus’ declaration – found only in Matthew’s gospel that he is the fulfilment of the law.

A closer inspection of Matthew’s “Sermon” reveals that, though the sayings don’t seem to fit one particular theme, there are connections that link groups of sayings together. For example, the Beatitudes lead easily into the sayings about salt and light, the saying about the fulfillment of the law introduces the following section in which Jesus evaluates or refocuses the law. In turn the section on the law concludes with a statement about being perfect which leads into a number of statements about how to interpret the idea of perfection.

The beatitudes, with which the sermon begins are statements of fact, a description of the present situation. “Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.” A consequence of knowing oneself blessed, is that one becomes a blessing for others – for example, the poor become the merciful and so on. In this way, those who are already blessed become a blessing to those around them. The next few verses – about salt and light reinforce this idea.

Both salt and light exist to be useful – to enhance taste and to enable sight in the darkness. For salt to be flavourless or for light to be hidden would be a nonsense – even an impossibility. Jesus is using exaggeration to make his point here, both ideas are utter foolishness. Salt does not lose its flavour and light that is hidden under something goes out (is no longer light). Jesus is commenting (as he does in the beatitudes) on the current state of affairs telling the listeners – “you are salt of the earth”, “you are light of the world.” In other words, as followers of me (Jesus), you cannot help but be light and salt in the world – unless that is, you do something foolish and unthinkable.

Our final verses do not really belong with the blessings and the responsibilities of those who are blessed but rather introduce the next section of sayings in which Jesus corrects some misinterpretations of the law. In case anyone thinks otherwise, Jesus is adamant that while he might critique the law or rather the interpretation of the law, he is not in the business of overthrowing the law – just the opposite. Jesus needs to re-frame the current understanding of the law so that it becomes clear to the world, that he is the fulfillment, the end point, the goal of the law. Jesus’ life and action demonstrates the way in which the law is to be understood as the covenant relationship between God and God’s people.

Through the sayings collected in the Sermon on the Mount, the author of Matthew, makes it clear that the contemporary understanding of the law is flawed at best and misguided at worst. In order to put things right, Jesus has to turn everything upside down – the poor (not the rich) are blessed, those who grieve (not those who are happy) are blessed, storing up treasures on earth does not lead to happiness and so on. Jesus does not abolish the law but restores it to its true meaning and purpose.

The Sermon on the Mount is not a sermon, but its individual parts come together to make a coherent whole that the law stands forever, but that human interpretation of the law, was and probably always will be flawed and inadequate.

Epiphany 5 – 2023

Matthew 5:13-20

Marian Free

In the name of God, source of all being, word of life and abiding spirit. Amen.

If Jesus had been one of the theological students in the Parish, and you had to write a sermon review on the Sermon on the Mount, what might you have said? If it were me I might have commented that while some of the material was helpful, the sermon was too long, that it consisted of a series of apparently unconnected sayings and that it would have been useful if the sermon had a theme which the preacher introduced, explained and concluded.

The current Pope has had a lot to say about preaching, including his recent off-the cuff comment that homilies at Catholic churches were a “disaster”. He suggested that every sermon be no longer than 8-10 minutes and that they include “a thought, a feeling and an image.”  According to these criteria, the Sermon on the Mount does not come up to standard. (It is too long for starters.)

Indeed, if one was to believe that the gospels were real-time accounts of Jesus’ teaching, one would have to imagine Jesus – as one movie of his life depicts him – wandering through Palestine, spouting apparently unconnected lists of sayings. Take chapter 6 for example, “Do not store up treasures on earth, the eye is the lamp of the body, no one can serve two masters, do not worry about tomorrow” and so on. It is difficult to see in what way these sayings are related and to understand why Jesus would simply utter them one after the other without providing any explanation.

In reality, Jesus almost certainly did not speak like this and what we now call the “Sermon on the Mount” was probably no such thing. It is unlikely that Jesus, who appears to have been an excellent teacher, would have thought that making a list of apparently unconnected pronouncements – to a large crowd, from a sitting position – was good pedagogical practice. A more likely scenario (as I have suggested in the Parish Notes) is, that after his death, Jesus’ followers repeated his sayings to each other and to new believers and that over time these sayings were gathered together.[1] Then, when Matthew and Luke wrote their accounts of Jesus, they accessed this material and used it according to their particular narrative purpose.

In the case Matthew, the author has organised Jesus’ sayings into five distinct groups – broadly speaking, the law, mission, parables of the kingdom, instructions for community living and judgement.  These so-called discourses are separated by narratives about Jesus’ life, his journeys and healings.  Of the discourses, the first and longest collection of sayings – three chapters in all – is centred around a discussion of the law and Jesus’ declaration – found only in Matthew’s gospel that he is the fulfilment of the law.

A closer inspection of Matthew’s “Sermon” reveals that, though the sayings don’t seem to fit one particular theme, there are connections that link groups of sayings together. For example, the Beatitudes lead easily into the sayings about salt and light, the saying about the fulfillment of the law introduces the following section in which Jesus evaluates or refocuses the law. In turn the section on the law concludes with a statement about being perfect which leads into a number of statements about how to interpret the idea of perfection.

The beatitudes, with which the sermon begins are statements of fact, a description of the present situation. “Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.” A consequence of knowing oneself blessed, is that one becomes a blessing for others – for example, the poor become the merciful and so on. In this way, those who are already blessed become a blessing to those around them. The next few verses – about salt and light reinforce this idea.

Both salt and light exist to be useful – to enhance taste and to enable sight in the darkness. For salt to be flavourless or for light to be hidden would be a nonsense – even an impossibility. Jesus is using exaggeration to make his point here, both ideas are utter foolishness. Salt does not lose its flavour and light that is hidden under something goes out (is no longer light). Jesus is commenting (as he does in the beatitudes) on the current state of affairs telling the listeners – “you are salt of the earth”, “you are light of the world.” In other words, as followers of me (Jesus), you cannot help but be light and salt in the world – unless that is, you do something foolish and unthinkable.

Our final verses do not really belong with the blessings and the responsibilities of those who are blessed but rather introduce the next section of sayings in which Jesus corrects some misinterpretations of the law. In case anyone thinks otherwise, Jesus is adamant that while he might critique the law or rather the interpretation of the law, he is not in the business of overthrowing the law – just the opposite. Jesus needs to re-frame the current understanding of the law so that it becomes clear to the world, that he is the fulfillment, the end point, the goal of the law. Jesus’ life and action demonstrates the way in which the law is to be understood as the covenant relationship between God and God’s people.

Through the sayings collected in the Sermon on the Mount, the author of Matthew, makes it clear that the contemporary understanding of the law is flawed at best and misguided at worst. In order to put things right, Jesus has to turn everything upside down – the poor (not the rich) are blessed, those who grieve (not those who are happy) are blessed, storing up treasures on earth does not lead to happiness and so on. Jesus does not abolish the law but restores it to its true meaning and purpose.

The Sermon on the Mount is not a sermon, but its individual parts come together to make a coherent whole that the law stands forever, but that human interpretation of the law, was and probably always will be flawed and inadequate.

Epiphany 5 – 2023

Matthew 5:13-20

Marian Free

In the name of God, source of all being, word of life and abiding spirit. Amen.

If Jesus had been one of the theological students in the Parish, and you had to write a sermon review on the Sermon on the Mount, what might you have said? If it were me I might have commented that while some of the material was helpful, the sermon was too long, that it consisted of a series of apparently unconnected sayings and that it would have been useful if the sermon had a theme which the preacher introduced, explained and concluded.

The current Pope has had a lot to say about preaching, including his recent off-the cuff comment that homilies at Catholic churches were a “disaster”. He suggested that every sermon be no longer than 8-10 minutes and that they include “a thought, a feeling and an image.”  According to these criteria, the Sermon on the Mount does not come up to standard. (It is too long for starters.)

Indeed, if one was to believe that the gospels were real-time accounts of Jesus’ teaching, one would have to imagine Jesus – as one movie of his life depicts him – wandering through Palestine, spouting apparently unconnected lists of sayings. Take chapter 6 for example, “Do not store up treasures on earth, the eye is the lamp of the body, no one can serve two masters, do not worry about tomorrow” and so on. It is difficult to see in what way these sayings are related and to understand why Jesus would simply utter them one after the other without providing any explanation.

In reality, Jesus almost certainly did not speak like this and what we now call the “Sermon on the Mount” was probably no such thing. It is unlikely that Jesus, who appears to have been an excellent teacher, would have thought that making a list of apparently unconnected pronouncements – to a large crowd, from a sitting position – was good pedagogical practice. A more likely scenario (as I have suggested in the Parish Notes) is, that after his death, Jesus’ followers repeated his sayings to each other and to new believers and that over time these sayings were gathered together.[1] Then, when Matthew and Luke wrote their accounts of Jesus, they accessed this material and used it according to their particular narrative purpose.

In the case Matthew, the author has organised Jesus’ sayings into five distinct groups – broadly speaking, the law, mission, parables of the kingdom, instructions for community living and judgement.  These so-called discourses are separated by narratives about Jesus’ life, his journeys and healings.  Of the discourses, the first and longest collection of sayings – three chapters in all – is centred around a discussion of the law and Jesus’ declaration – found only in Matthew’s gospel that he is the fulfilment of the law.

A closer inspection of Matthew’s “Sermon” reveals that, though the sayings don’t seem to fit one particular theme, there are connections that link groups of sayings together. For example, the Beatitudes lead easily into the sayings about salt and light, the saying about the fulfillment of the law introduces the following section in which Jesus evaluates or refocuses the law. In turn the section on the law concludes with a statement about being perfect which leads into a number of statements about how to interpret the idea of perfection.

The beatitudes, with which the sermon begins are statements of fact, a description of the present situation. “Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.” A consequence of knowing oneself blessed, is that one becomes a blessing for others – for example, the poor become the merciful and so on. In this way, those who are already blessed become a blessing to those around them. The next few verses – about salt and light reinforce this idea.

Both salt and light exist to be useful – to enhance taste and to enable sight in the darkness. For salt to be flavourless or for light to be hidden would be a nonsense – even an impossibility. Jesus is using exaggeration to make his point here, both ideas are utter foolishness. Salt does not lose its flavour and light that is hidden under something goes out (is no longer light). Jesus is commenting (as he does in the beatitudes) on the current state of affairs telling the listeners – “you are salt of the earth”, “you are light of the world.” In other words, as followers of me (Jesus), you cannot help but be light and salt in the world – unless that is, you do something foolish and unthinkable.

Our final verses do not really belong with the blessings and the responsibilities of those who are blessed but rather introduce the next section of sayings in which Jesus corrects some misinterpretations of the law. In case anyone thinks otherwise, Jesus is adamant that while he might critique the law or rather the interpretation of the law, he is not in the business of overthrowing the law – just the opposite. Jesus needs to re-frame the current understanding of the law so that it becomes clear to the world, that he is the fulfillment, the end point, the goal of the law. Jesus’ life and action demonstrates the way in which the law is to be understood as the covenant relationship between God and God’s people.

Through the sayings collected in the Sermon on the Mount, the author of Matthew, makes it clear that the contemporary understanding of the law is flawed at best and misguided at worst. In order to put things right, Jesus has to turn everything upside down – the poor (not the rich) are blessed, those who grieve (not those who are happy) are blessed, storing up treasures on earth does not lead to happiness and so on. Jesus does not abolish the law but restores it to its true meaning and purpose.

The Sermon on the Mount is not a sermon, but its individual parts come together to make a coherent whole that the law stands forever, but that human interpretation of the law, was and probably always will be flawed and inadequate.

=[1] Scholars have called this material Q (from Quelle meaning Source) however there is no evidence that this was ever a written document.

Blessed are those who know themselves blessed

January 28, 2023

Epiphany 4 – 2023
Matthew 5:1-12
Marian Free

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

“Bless you,” we say when someone sneezes – whether we are a person of faith or not. This habit derives from the 6th century when a sneeze was the first sign that someone had contracted the plague. Pope Gregory introduced the practice in 590 CE and by around 750CE it had become a common practice. At one time in our past, it was even thought that a person’s soul left their body when they sneezed, and that God’s blessing was required to avert such a disaster from occurring. We no longer believe such things, but the habit remains. “Bless you.”

“Bless you,” we say when someone unexpectedly helps us out. In extending a blessing, we are hoping that they will be blessed for their generosity. “Bless you,” we say, as shorthand for ‘God bless you’ when someone sets off on a journey. When we bless a traveler, we do so in the hope that throughout their travels they will be kept safe from harm.

A blessing, offered by one person to another is a short prayer, a wish for the well-being/health of another, a form of thanks, or a request that the one blessed be under God’s protection .

These forms of blessing are very different from the “beatitudes” that we encounter in Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount or Luke’s Sermon on the Plain. “Blessed are the poor in spirit” is not a prayer that the poor might have God’s blessing bestowed on them. It is a statement of fact, a description of a current situation – not a desire for something to happen in the future. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, Blessed are those who grieve” and so on. They don’t read: “God bless the poor”, but inform us that the poor, the grieving are already blessed. They are blessed in the present and at the same time (at least in three of the first four beatitudes) are offered hope for the future.

At first sight this doesn’t make sense. For those who know/have known what it is to count every dollar, who have sent their children off to school without breakfast, who cannot afford basic health care, being poor does not feel like being blessed – just the opposite . On the other hand, being poor does mean that there is nothing left to lose. Jesus is addressing his disciples – not the rich, the establishment or the rulers. Because they have little or nothing, the disciples can afford to give themselves entirely to the Jesus’ project. The kingdom of heaven is already theirs because they have already thrown their lot in with Jesus.

The apparently contradictory statements of the first four beatitudes are intended to help those who can, identify their present state of blessedness, to see what they do have rather than what they do not have. In other words, “Jesus gives to those in need by taking what is negative and planting in them something steadfast: deep inner joy, trusting the promises” (Chelsea Harmon). Hearing these words spoken by Jesus might enable someone to see what they already do have, and more importantly to understand that what God is promising for the future will make the present (however bad) bearable. The grieving are promised comfort, the meek will receive the world, and the hungry for righteousness will receive satisfaction! Jesus’ promises have the effect of changing the present, even if circumstances do not seem to undergo obvious change. To paraphrase Harmon, “there is more than one thing true about any situation. Disciples of Jesus can cling to and build their lives upon the deep hope implanted in them in order to live in the midst of the struggles and difficulties they face in this world.” The present circumstances of Jesus’ disciples might change for the better, but even if they do not, the future that Jesus offers is filled with promise.

Interestingly, after the first four beatitudes, there seems to be a change in direction. The first four beatitudes identify a person’s external situation (poverty, grief, meekness, hunger) as blessed and, without changing the situation, offer hope. The next three appear however to identify blessedness in a person’s internal qualities or in their actions and the “promises” the consequences of being those things: merciful, pure in heart, peacemakers – they will receive mercy, see God or be called children of God.

These apparently different sets of beatitudes are not opposites – one set spoken to the downtrodden (who need hope) and the other to the privileged (who have a responsibility to use their privilege for others). Instead, the latter set of beatitudes elaborates and spells out the consequences of the former. Those who have recognised that they are blessed, with the kingdom of heaven, the promise of comfort, the promise of the earth or the promise of fullness are liberated to stop focusing on themselves and to stop being concerned about their own future. Being freed from self-absorption, they are doubly blessed, because now they can look outwards and share their blessedness with others through showing mercy, being pure in heart and working for peace. Blessedness appears to extend outwards from the one who is blessed to all those who encounter that person.

A final beatitude sums up what it is to follow Jesus – to hold fast to the gospel, to speak truth to power, to maintain one’s integrity in the most difficult circumstances. This last, like the first, is evidence that those who are persecuted on account of Jesus, are, like the poor, already citizens of the kingdom of heaven. The former by their poverty, and the latter through their suffering, are able to fully identity with Jesus and therefore to belong to him and to his kingdom.

The beatitudes are not prayers or blessings, they are statements of fact. Jesus’ disciples, are, by virtue of being Jesus’ followers, already blessed and those blessing have consequences in the present or in the future. Such blessedness cannot be contained but will in turn be a source of blessing for others – salt for the earth, light for the world – as Jesus goes on to say.

We who are blessed, cannot help but be a blessing for others.

Blessed are those who know themselves blessed.

Care for some fishing?

January 21, 2023

Epiphany 3 – 2023
Matthew 4:12-23
Marian Free

In the name of God who sees us as we are, draws us out and uses our gifts for service. Amen.

I wonder what your idea of discipleship is. Is it about bringing others to faith or about living a faithful life? Is it about saving your neighbour from the fires of hell or about creating a life-giving environment in which all might live in peace and joy? Is it about repentance for sin, or about enabling others to change their lives around?

For many, the idea of discipleship has been formed by Jesus’ call of Peter and Andrew, James and John. This morning’s gospel passage appears to be quite clear. When Jesus calls his first disciples (or insists that they come after him), it is so that they will fish for people. Jesus is asking them to join him in his mission in turning the hearts and minds of the Israelites towards God.

We would be mistaken however if we understood that this was the model for all disciples. In the first instance Jesus’ words are contextual. He is speaking to fishermen and therefore uses language with which they would be familiar. It is not language that resonates for those, who like myself, find the imagery of fishing (gathering the unwilling on to a hook or into a net) more than a little distasteful. Nor is it language that really makes sense outside of a first century rural setting.

Only Peter, Andrew, James, and John are called to “fish for people”. Jesus is speaking into their situation, using imagery that they will understand, the language of their own lived experience. In asking these four to come after him, Jesus is making it clear that in calling them to follow him, he will not take them out of their comfort zone or make them do the impossible. They will not have to retrain in order to become disciples. By calling fishermen to fish, Jesus is indicating that he wants them as they are right now. He will not expect them to be what they are not, but will take them as they are and use and build on their existing strengths and skills. He will enable them to use what they already know and to apply those skills to a new situation. The disciples will not be leaving their profession simply changing direction, using their gifts of patience and endurance in a new way.

For those of us brought up on the image of fishing for disciples, it is important to notice that it is only these four who are fishermen who are called by Jesus to fish. Jesus doesn’t say to Matthew the tax collector (Mt 9:2) “I will make you fish for people” and what we know of the other disciples does not lead us to think that he is asking others – non fishermen – to fish. The ways in which other disciples are named, does not tell us anything about their call. to follow. There is a second James who is identified as the son of Alphaeus, a Judas who we are told is the son of James, Simon is alternately known as a Zealot or Cananaean, and Philip we are told, was from Bethsaida.

The call to follow Jesus, to become a disciple is not a generic call. It is not a matter of one size fits all. No one is called to be what they are not. In general, anglers are not called to be great musicians, agriculturalist are not called to be herders and bookworms are not called to be athletes. When Jesus calls us to follow, he calls us to follow as our most authentic selves. Discipleship does not entail becoming what we are not but being whom we truly are. When Jesus calls us to follow, Jesus expects us to use our existing skill sets and strengths – including those we not yet identified or developed.

This means that those who answer the call to follow do not leave behind the gifts and training that they bring with them but build on them but often find themselves doing things, having the skill to do something they never expected to be doing. For example, someone who has had little opportunity for further education, may unlock a talent and a passion for engineering, farming, biblical languages, which they can use to further the kingdom. Another person who has had little experience of working with children or the elderly may discover hitherto unrealized abilities. Whether on the mission field, in Parish ministry, or in one’s day-to-day work, I am sure that there are many others, who, having been called to follow Jesus, have been surprised where it has taken them, and astonished, to see what gifts that call has drawn out. Others yet will continue doing what they have always done, but as disciples will be doing whatever it is more intentionally for the furthering of the kingdom. No matter what, almost certainly Jesus will not be surprised, because Jesus will have seen what we are doing and what we can do, before Jesus issued the call.

Jesus’ call on our lives may not be a universal call to fish for people, to make disciples. Jesus’ call to discipleship will recognise who and what we are now and who and what we can be. If we allow him, Jesus will use our gifts, develop our potential, and give us the courage to trust wherever he may lead.

What’s in a name

January 14, 2023

Epiphany 2 – 2023
John 1:29-42
Marian Free

In the name of God, Earth-maker, Pain-Bearer, Life-Giver. Amen.

At the beginning of my ministry, I was based in a small country town. Even though it was close to a major city and not far from the capital, there were many in the town who had lived there all their lives. They had been to school together and had worked together in the nearby railway workshops. They were so familiar with each other that they knew each other by names that they had been given based on physical or personal characteristics. When I met with families to plan the funeral of their father, I would begin by asking them to tell me about him – his childhood, his family life, his work life and so on. Then, in order to put together an order of service, I would ask for more specific details such as full name and date of birth. At this point I was often interrupted as someone would say: “No one will know who you are talking about if you call him “Robert, John, Peter” or whatever his name was. I quickly learnt to ask how they would like their father referred to, and after the first formal reference to the deceased. I would make sure that for the rest of the service I would use the name by which he was known, not the name given him at birth. It was an important lesson as many people are known, not by their given name but by a term of affection, by their nickname or by their middle name.

Names are important, they are how others identify us and very often, they are how we come to identify ourselves.

In today’s gospel (which bridges last week’s reference to Jesus’ baptism and next week’s account of Jesus’ calling the four fishermen) includes four names for Jesus – Lamb of God, Son of God, Rabbi and Messiah (which means anointed). In the same reading Simon is given a new name Cephas (in Aramaic), Petros (in Greek) which means ‘rock’. Simon’s change of name tells us something about the way in which Jesus sees him. Apparently, despite all his wavering and his final denial of Jesus, Jesus can see in Peter something firm and solid – reliable even.

That is clear enough, but how are we to account for the number of (unrelated) names that are applied to Jesus? The four mentioned here are only a few of those that we encounter in the first chapter of John’s gospel. Others are Word, light, life, the one about whom Moses in the law and the prophets spoke, the one who is coming after me, the one who ranks ahead of me, Jesus, son of Joseph of Nazareth and Son of Man. It seems that not one word or phrase is sufficient to capture all that Jesus is and all that he signifies. There were so many expectations of one who would save Israel, so many hopes that God would send someone to redeem the people that it was difficult for Jesus’ contemporaries to decide which of these categories best suited the man whom they were sure was the one. Which of the ancient prophecies did Jesus fulfill? Which of the recent hopes did Jesus live up to?

The problem for us all these centuries later is to try to come to grips with terminology which in the first century may not even have had the same meaning that it had in the times of the prophets. So many influences had entered Jewish thought in the intervening years, so much life experience had impacted on the ways in which the Pentateuch and the prophets were written.

It is left for modern scholars to discern what might be meant when expressions such as “Lamb of God” are used for Jesus, or when Jesus takes upon himself the title “Son of Man”.

Names are both descriptive and determinative, both flattering and derogatory. They try to capture the essence of a person, but they can also define a person such that they unable to be seen in any other way. Jesus as “Lamb of God” can be seen as the sacrificial lamb, the Servant of Isaiah. Jesus “Son of David” creates a more militaristic image. Jesus Son of Joseph of Nazareth (carpenter’s son) is familial – and is not a term that earns Jesus respect.

For this reason, names/labels can be divisive.

How we see/name Jesus matters. How we name Jesus will determine how we live out our faith. The name/s that we give Jesus will provide the lens through which others will see him.

What are the expressions that you use when thinking about/addressing Jesus (biblical and other)? What do those words mean to you? Do they make you feel comfortable or do they challenge you? Are you so used to naming Jesus in one particular way, that you have forgotten that words cannot contain him? This week, as we stand on the threshold of exploring Jesus’ ministry through the eyes of Matthew, try to think of all the names you use for Jesus (and the names that you do not use). Try to use some new and unfamiliar names – Lover, Pain-bearer, Friend – how do they change/expand the way you think of Jesus? How do they change your relationship with him?

Lamb of God, Son of God, Rabbi, Messiah, Word, light, life, the one about whom Moses in the law and the prophets spoke, the one who is coming after me, the one who ranks ahead of me, Jesus, son of Joseph of Nazareth, Son of Man – all of these and yet none of these truly captures who Jesus is. Let us not mistake the power of naming and limit Jesus to the confines of human understanding.

Embracing humanity

January 7, 2023

Jesus’ Baptism
Matthew 3:13-17
Marian Free

In the name of God who embraces our full humanity and in so doing allows us to embrace our own. Amen.

In a public lecture in 2010 Aidan Kavanagh gave an imaginative description of a fourth century baptism. Full admission to the Christian faith was taken very seriously at that time. Catechumens would have spent four years in preparation, during which time they would have had to leave the church before the Eucharistic prayer as receiving communion was a privilege of initiates. Easter, the time of resurrection was considered to be the most appropriate time for candidates to die to their old, lives and to rise to the new. During the season of Lent the whole church would have joined the baptism candidates in fasting and prayer and the baptisms (full immersion) would have taken place at dawn after the all-night Easter Vigil .

Over the centuries baptism has been understood in a number of ways, has taken various forms and has been regarded with various degrees of rigor. In the New Testament, John’s baptism of repentance was that of full immersion because Jesus ‘comes up from the water’, however there is little evidence that this continued to be the practice of the early community. Apart from the Ethiopian eunuch (Acts 8:26f) no one seems to be asked to meet at a body of water in order to be baptised. Nor, at that time, was there a lengthy period of preparation – those who asked to be baptised were simply baptised. (In fact, some people were not even asked. Think of the guard who takes Peter to his home and who is baptised with all his family – Acts 16:34).

As the church became institutionalised, baptism became the prerogative of the bishop. When the church became sufficiently large that the bishop could not be present in a timely way, baptism was delegated to the deacons. These baptisms were confirmed whenever the bishop came to the town. Apparently by the fourth century baptism was taken very seriously as Kavanagh’s story indicates. Over the centuries however, baptism seems to have taken on a kind of colonising function. The church wanted everyone to be a Christian and in a Christian Empire baptism became the norm. At some stage the theology of original sin ensured that new parents were terrified that children who were not baptised went straight to hell. (This was one way to ensure that the population was ‘Christian’, but it did not require those who, through baptism, joined the faith, had any preparation or any commitment to the faith.)

During the 1970’s there was a movement away from this more cavalier approach to baptism and church membership. Church attendance had slipped and some of the more serious- minded people were concerned that the children whose parents had no connection should not be baptised unless the parents underwent a period of training and began to attend church. Unfortunately, this led to a time of great hurt and confusion as parents who believed that baptism was an important gift that they could give their child felt judged and excluded.

Jesus’ baptism was very different from any of our modern norms, and it raises more questions than it answers. There is no prior evidence of baptism in the traditions and rituals of Israel. So what was John the Baptist doing and how was it understood by those who came to him to be baptised?.) What drove John and why did he feel that the people needed to repent? How did John recognise Jesus as ‘the one more powerful’?

We don’t have conclusive answers to any of these questions and we certainly cannot answer the one that lies at the heart of the account: “Why did Jesus come to be baptised? Surely he did not need to repent.” This is a question that exercises the mind of the author of Matthew. Of all the gospel writers, he and he alone has John question Jesus’ need to be baptised. Matthew’s Jesus responds that he needs to be baptised “to fulfill all righteousness.” However, that raises questions of its own.

Our problem with Jesus’ baptism seems to lie in our need to believe that, as it says in Hebrews, Jesus was ‘without sin.’ A Jesus who was ‘without sin’ would have had no need to repent so the argument goes. This makes Jesus’ baptism some kind of random requirement that God has imposed.

A more useful view is to remind ourselves of Jesus’ full humanity. That is to say, if Jesus was fully human then he must have shared at least some human imperfections. Indeed, the gospels do not gloss over the fact that Jesus gets angry, is afraid and allows the crowds and even the disciples to frustrate him.

Taking this into account, Jesus’ baptism by John is a reminder of Jesus’ full humanity. Jesus didn’t stand outside the human experience as some sort of perfect entity, rather he embraced our condition in its entirety. When Jesus came to John to be baptised he had not yet begun his mission. He was not at that point, Jesus the teacher and miracle worker, but Jesus a peasant from Galilee. Up until this moment, Jesus had done nothing remarkable, nothing that would suggest to those around him that he was anyone special. There was nothing about him that had made him stand out from his peers, nothing that suggested that he was anything out of the ordinary, nothing that had led others to declare him a perfectly, godly human being. (When he preached at Nazareth, he was remembered simply as one of the lads of the village – one who now was putting on airs.) He was thirty years old and had done nothing remarkable.

Seen in this light, it is possible to argue that Jesus came to be baptised because he had reached a point in his life when he was ready to fully submit to God’s will and ready to completely align his life with that of God, to take up the mantle of his call. Jesus “repented” in the true sense of the word – he turned his life around. Jesus’ mission was inaugurated by his voluntary submission to God in baptism and his willingness to allow his life – from that point on to be determined by God – whatever that might mean and wherever it might lead.

Jesus’ fully human baptism reminds us that Jesus is not some superhuman being who cannot identify with our human frailty. Jesus’ ownership of his humanity in baptism gives us permission to embrace our own imperfect humanity. Most importantly Jesus’ complete identification with us in baptism, challenges us to accept and to grow into the divinity that resides within each of us.

One story or many?

December 31, 2022

The Naming and Circumcision of Jesus/The Epiphany of our Lord
Luke 2:15-21/Matthew 2:1-12
Marian Free

In the name of God who is always revealing Godself in new and unexpected ways. Amen.

The lectionary offers us two possibilities for this Sunday – the Epiphany of our Lord (the coming of the magi) or the Naming and Circumcision of Jesus. In some ways it is a shame that we cannot celebrate both today as together they give us an insight into the different ways in which Matthew (magi) and Luke (circumcision) approach their accounts of Jesus and provide a model as to how we might share the gospel today.

We believe that Matthew is writing for a largely Jewish audience. For this reason, he emphasises the ways in which Jesus fulfills scripture, has Jesus insist that the disciples go nowhere among the Gentiles and does not include encounters with, or parables about, Samaritans. Yet, it is very clear that Matthew writes with an understanding that Gentiles will come to believe in Jesus. At the Gospel’s beginning, John the Baptist reminds the Pharisees that God can raise up children of Abraham from the very stones and at its close the disciples are sent into all the world insinuating that God’s vision is broader than the people of Israel. Matthew’s inclusion of the account of the coming of magi – non-Jewish astrologers – is a further indication that he is softening up his readers for the idea that Gentiles will come to worship God’s anointed one and will therefore be included among the chosen people.

In comparison, Luke is writing for an audience that is primarily Gentile. He adapts his telling of the story to ensure a reception among those who do not come from a Jewish background. Luke does include stories about Samaritans – the parable of the Good Samaritan and the account of the Samaritan leper who returns to give thanks. It is important that Luke gives credibility to what appears to be a new religion. The Romans were reasonably tolerant of the national religions of the nations that they conquered, but they were less inclined to accept a new and novel religion. Indeed, any new belief was viewed as a superstition. A religion that had apparently appeared out of thin air would struggle to be taken seriously. This explains why Luke, though writing for Gentiles, goes to some length to present Jesus (and his family) as faithful Jews – observing the Jewish rituals of circumcision and Temple observance.

The ways in which the gospel writers configure their telling of the story of Jesus to ensure that it will be received by their audience is informative. Intuitively they knew that faith in Jesus did not depend on rigid adherence to a collection of dry historical “facts”, but that faith in Jesus was a living and vibrant relationship with the risen Christ. Indeed, a reading of the letters of Paul reminds us that from the very beginnings of the Christian mission different emphases were placed on, for example circumcision, depending upon the needs and backgrounds of those being addressed. In Corinthians, Paul goes so far as to say that he became all things to all people, that he might by all means save some (1 Cor 9:19 -23).

In many ways, Paul was passionate and uncompromising and yet he understood that accepting Jesus as Lord and Saviour was more important than the observation of ancient Jewish customs. In his letters he worked out a theology that addressed the tensions between those who came to faith from Judaism and those who came from Gentile backgrounds. In so doing, he did not believe that he was compromising the faith, but that he was making it accessible to all people.

Vincent Donovan, a Jesuit missionary, came to the same conclusion when he was working among Masai in Kenya . The Jesuits had been in Kenya for 100 years when an enthusiastic young Donovan descended on them. In that time, not one single person had embraced the Christian faith. Having received the blessing of his superiors and the permission of the local chiefs, Donovan began sharing the gospel according to Mark with the Masai. As he did so it became patently obvious to him that stories of sowing and harvesting would fall on deaf – if not hostile – ears. The Masai were pastoralists who at times found themselves contesting the use of land with others who were agriculturalists. As Jesus used imagery that was familiar to his audience so Paul, the gospel writers, and Donovan used imagery and ideas that enabled them to connect to their listeners and to draw them into a relationship with the resurrected Jesus.

In the 21st century, we have much to learn from our forebears in faith and in mission.

Sharing the faith does not mean rigid adherence to fixed statements of “fact”, but an openness to the Holy Spirit, an understanding of the central tenets of the faith and a willingness to listen to those with whom we would share the gospel. As Jesus listened to and reacted to the Canaanite woman – changing his mind about who does and who does not belong – so we should listen to those around us and allow ourselves to understand and to respond to those who are hungering to hear the gospel today.

(Donovan, Vincent. Christianity Rediscovered. Maryknoll, N. Y. :  Orbis Press, 1982.

A summary may be found here https://www.newcreationlibrary.org.au/books/pdf/284_ChristianityRediscovered.pdf)

God Incarnate

December 23, 2022

Christmas – 2022
Marian Free

In the name of God who comes among us silently, unobtrusively and unremarkably. Amen.

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In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. . . . All things came to be through him, and without him nothing came to be. —John 1:1, 3

During the week our Bishop posted the above photo in Facebook. It is a light-hearted attempt to compare the accounts of Jesus’ birth in the four gospels. At the same time, it reminds us that when it comes to Christmas, we conflate two versions of the story – our nativity scenes. have the shepherds and the magi even though the shepherds are found only in Luke and the magi only in Matthew. (Mark is missing, because in Mark’s gospel, Jesus bursts on to the scene fully grown.) When the post appeared, discerning viewers noticed at once that Mary was not included in the diagramme. You might like to compare the first few chapters of Luke and Matthew and see if anything else needs to be added. The four gospels begin quite differently and as might be expected, the beginnings reflect the interests of the authors. Matthew is concerned to stress the Jewishness of Jesus and the way in which his early years demonstrate the fulfillment of Old Testament promises. (“This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophets” occurs 5 times in the birth narrative.) What is more Matthew’s genealogy goes back to Abraham – the founder of the Jewish faith. Luke, on the other hand is more concerned with the universal implications of Jesus’ birth and with the historical context in which the story takes place. Luke includes the census and mentions Herod. His genealogy goes all the way back to Adam – indicating that Jesus is for everyone, not just for a few. Mark, as I said is not concerned with Jesus’ origins and John’s poetic start gives us – not a birth, but a cosmic beginning. From John’s point of view Jesus always was.

Does it matter that we do not have a consistent account to explain Jesus’ presence among us? Do we need to explain the differences? Of course not. Each story tells us something different, helps to satisfy our curiosity about Jesus’ beginnings and enriches our understanding of something that is essentially beyond our understanding. Indeed, Richard Rohr would argue that Jesus’ birth is only one expression of God’s incarnation among us – the account/s of Jesus’ birth are only one expression of God’s presence among us. That is to say, prior to Jesus’ birth, God was not absent in creation, invisible to God’s people or inactive in relation to the world. From the moment God said: “Let there be light” God has been dynamically engaged with creation and constantly in relationship with God’s people.

As Rohr says, we will never know the how, why or when of creation, but most traditions suggest that everything that it is the creation of some “Primal Source, which originally existed only as Spirit.” He goes on to say that “This Infinite Primal Source somehow poured itself into finite, visible forms, creating everything from rocks to water, plants, organisms, animals, and human beings. This self-disclosure of whomever you call God into physical creation was the first Incarnation (the general term for any enfleshment of spirit), long before the personal, second Incarnation that Christians believe happened with Jesus.”

What this means is that from the beginning of creation God has existed/been incarnate within all creation – animate and inanimate. When God ‘became flesh’ in the person of Jesus, God became incarnate in a very particular way – uniting Godself to us. At that point in time, God the creator, with the Logos/Word, fully identified with humankind, proving once and for all, that humanity is created in the image of God and that God is incarnate in and with us – not simply in creation or in some indistinct, immaterial form out of sight and out of reach. God, through God’s incarnation in Jesus that God chooses not only to be incarnate in the beauty of a sunset, the perfection of a flower, the majesty of a mountain, but in the frailty of human flesh, the imperfection of human behaviour, and the weakness of human will. Thanks to God’s coming in flesh – in Jesus – we can see God in one another and in ourselves and, in Jesus, we can see too what it is that we can be.

So, this year, let us not look back with longing to the infant in the stable or forward with anticipation to the coming of the Son of Man, but let us simply look – around and within – so that we might perceive God’s incarnation in its many and myriad forms – in the world and in ourselves. Let us celebrate God, with us throughout all time.

It has nothing to do with being respectable

December 17, 2022

Advent 4
Matthew 1:18-25
Marian Free

In the name of God who moves us to act in ways that are surprising and unconventional. Amen.

Jimmy Barnes, the hard-living, drug-abusing, wild-boy of Australian rock, was born James Dixon Swan. He was the child of an unhappy marriage, the son of an abusive alcoholic. When he was still very young, his mother abandoned her six children to escape the abuse. In his autobiography Working Class Boy Jimmy tells of his life as a motherless child growing up in Elizabeth, South Australia. His father was rarely home, leaving the children to fend for themselves. Over time, the house fell into disrepair and niceties – such as sheets on the beds – became a distant memory. Sometimes Jimmy’s father gave his older sister money. She used to buy a sack of potatoes which was often the only food in the house. Left to his own devices grew up wild and on the streets. He first got really drunk when he was only nine or ten.

In the meantime, Jimmy’s mother was struggling to make a living so that she could reconnect with her children. One day the Child Welfare Agency came to her to say that the children were going to be made wards of the state unless she could provide a stable home for them.

She was at a friend’s house, crying, when Reginald Victor Barnes walked in.

“What’s the trouble love?” he asked.
“I need to find a husband and I need to find a home for me six kids and I need to do it quickly or they’ll put them in a home,” she responded.
“Why did you leave them?”
“I had to run away, my husband was a bad drunk.”
“No worries love, I’ll marry ya.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Someone’s got to save those poor kids.”

So, Reg Barnes married Jimmy’s mother and took on – sight unseen – six troubled, delinquent kids.
He provided them with a home, stayed up all night tending to anxious, frightened and sick children and he didn’t walk away no matter how trying and exhausting their behaviour.

As Jimmy says: “Reginald Victor Barnes was to be an angel in my life.”

Reg, Jimmy believes, had planned to be a priest. In order to rescue children he did not know and to save a woman he had just met, Reg exchanged a peaceful, ordered life for one of heartache and chaos. In gratitude, Jimmy took his name – Jimmy Barnes.

This, I imagine is a rare story, especially for a man of Reg’s generation. No doubt Reg’s friends thought he was mad. Taking on another man’s children was one thing, taking on – and fully supporting – six children, damaged and abused by another, was something else altogether.

When we think of the story of the Incarnation, our first thought is of Mary and the risks that she took and the sacrifices she made when she said her courageous: “yes” to God. We are less likely to focus on Joseph – who throughout Jesus’ life is relegated to the background – a shadowy, but necessary figure who gives the earthly Jesus some legitimacy. Joseph is presented as the strong, silent type. He says nothing, but simply acts on messages that come to him in dreams. Joseph’s role in the story is to save Mary from shame and to ensure that Jesus can claim to be of the tribe of David (from whom the anointed one was to descend).

As was the case with Mary, though, Joseph’s obedience came at a cost. If he married Mary, he would bear for the rest of his life the reputation of someone who has been cuckolded. The scandal of Mary’s pregnancy would follow him wherever he went, and he would almost certainly be ridiculed or pitied for taking on another man’s child and having as his heir a child whom he did not father.

We are told tantalizing little about Joseph. He is a righteous man – a man anxious to do what is right before God. A righteous man would know that Mary’s out-of-wedlock pregnancy was contrary to the law and that as such he had no obligation to assist her. He would know too that any association with her would reflect on him, impact on his standing in the community and call into question his knowledge of and adherence to the law. He would have further cause for concern regarding Mary’s insistence that the child she was carrying came from God – an impossible and blasphemous claim which would have been an affront to his faith, and another reason for his family and neighbours to deride and revile him. For Joseph to marry Mary would have lasting effects. Her shame would become his shame. For the rest of his life, he would be subject to rumours and inuendo.

So, being a righteous man, knows that he must dissolve the engagement, but he proposes to do this quietly so as to shield Mary from public scrutiny. (He is presumably confident that her family will protect her and keep her forever from the public eye.)

God has other ideas.

It is perhaps an indication of Joseph’s righteousness (his closeness to God) that he understands that his dream is not a fantasy, but a message from God and that a message from God is not to be ignored, but to be acted on. He accepts, contrary to everything that he knows and believes that marrying Mary was part of God’s plan. Joseph was a law-abiding, righteous man but he was not so hide-bound, not so fixated on doing what was right that he put adherence to the law before the will of God.

Ultimately faith cannot be neatly bundled up as a set of rules and regulations. Faith, as Joseph demonstrates, is a relationship with the living God, who cannot and will not be confined by the limits of human imagination.

What we learn from Joseph is faith has nothing to do with rigid certainties, and everything to do with risk-taking. Righteousness has nothing to with having a good reputation and everything to do with a willingness to be a “fool for God. Pleasing God has nothing to do with observing certain codes of behaviour and everything to do with an openness to where God is leading us and a willingness to take our part in God’s plan.

Being in a relationship with the living God, means being willing to have all our certainties thrown into question, our values turned upside-down. and our lives turned inside out.

God in the small things

December 17, 2022

Advent 3 – 2022
Matthew 11:2-11 (some belated thoughts)
Marian Free

What no eye has seen nor ear heard, the Lord has prepared for those who love him. Amen.

Even though none of us can predict the future, we all have certain expectations. Some expectations are realistic – the sun will rise tomorrow, we will get older rather than younger, we will continue to love our children. Much, however, is beyond our control. We cannot know with any certainty what tomorrow will bring – whether we will still have a job, whether our health will hold, what the weather will do. Even so, because it is difficult to live with uncertainty we make plans, we assume that things will stay the same and that we will be able to determine our futures. For many of us, things work out – if not exactly as expected. We finish our education, get a job, form a relationship, and are generally satisfied with our lot. Others, for reasons that are not always within their control, reach a certain age and find themselves wondering what went wrong, why their life hasn’t worked out as they thought it would. In the worst-case scenarios, some wonder if they have wasted their lives, or if fate has been against them.

This seems to be the situation in which John the Baptist. now finds himself. Having started out confident that he knew what the future held, he now finds himself languishing in prison, wondering if he was right when, certain that God’s promised one would come, he had announced that Jesus was the one. Now he is not so sure. His expectations (whatever they were), have not been met. The Roman oppressors have not been overthrown, the Temple practices are still corrupt and the difference between rich and poor remains the same. Has his life been wasted? Should he have taken a different turn? Did he mistake his role, his place in God’s plan?

Whatever was going on in John’s mind, it is clear that he needed some reassurance, some certainty that he had been on the right track. He sends his disciples to Jesus. to ask whether he really is the one who is to come, or should they be looking for another?

Jesus’ response is interesting. Instead of answering John’s disciples directly, he tells them to look around themselves and to notice that the blind have received their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised and the poor have good news brought to them. In other words, Jesus points out to John that there are signs that God is active in the world in ways that God had not been active before. The signs are subtle to be sure, but they are obvious to anyone who looks carefully. God (through Jesus) is not upending the world, overthrowing the oppressors, demanding complete and total obedience from God’s followers. God is making the sorts of changes in peoples’ lives that allow them to live well under any external circumstances. Jesus is making people whole. He is not filling them with rage and encouraging them to use violence to overthrow the Romans – that would be only a temporary solution. The blind would still be blind, the lepers unclean. People would still be unsatisfied with their lot.

Jesus brings wholeness – not revolution. John’s fiery proclamation was to turn people’s hearts towards God, to enable them to be receptive to the one whom God sent, to be willing to submit themselves to God’s will, rather than to long for God to radically change the world.

We are not told John’s reaction to Jesus’ response, but there is of course a lesson for us in this gospel.

In a world beset by war and terror, the effects of climate change, corruption and inequity, it can be difficult to see the evidence that God is active in the world. We, like John, can be filled with despair and wonder if we have it right. At such times we, like John need to be reminded that God is not to be found in the dramatic, that God does not take sides (which might make things worse rather than better), and that humankind has not, as a whole, turned to God. Jesus wants us to see that none of that means that God is absent from the world or from our lives. God can be found in everyday miracles – new shoots after a fire, a child’s smile, the goodness of strangers, the sacrificial acts of aid workers and more especially in the birth of a child – who contrary to all expectations will change the world.

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