Blessed are those who believe without seeing??

April 15, 2023

Easter 2 – 2023
John 20: 19-31
Marian Free

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

In the seventies and eighties, a popular saying among Christian educators was: “God has no grandchildren.” By that, it was meant that every generation had to come to know Jesus for themselves, that faith had to be owned by someone and not imposed on them. This seems to have been a key element of the Billy Graham and other evangelistic crusades, which always concluded with a challenge to those present to accept Jesus as their personal Lord and Saviour. Faith that was learned was seen as no substitute for a personal commitment to Jesus.

Billy Graham, and others like him, engaged in emotive and sometimes guilt inducing tirades in order to expose what to them was a superficial experience or expression of faith. As a result, many people did come to a genuine and lasting belief in Jesus. Others, who were simply caught up in the emotional hype fell away if they were not given support and encouragement or if they had no foundation on which to build. In the more conservative Anglican church of my youth, well-meaning adults in the congregations tried to convince us of the validity of the Christian faith, by telling us about the miracles that had occurred in their own lives as a result of faith. (Miracles were no substitute for relationship.)

There are of course, many, many ways that churches (and cults) endeavour to share what they believe and to convince outsiders to believe and to remain committed. In some instances, the threat of punishment or hell is used as a means of making drawing people in and keeping them there. Another method is to create sense of belonging to attract the lost and lonely. Belonging is seductive and the threat of exclusion ensures that those who have joined choose to stay.

“Belief” that is based on fear is not faith. It is certainly not a faith that is grounded in the knowledge of and relationship with the living Christ. But how does one come to know the risen Jesus? How, more than 2,000 years since the first Easter and in a world that is vastly different, can we share our conviction that Jesus is alive?

The early church had an advantage that we do not. Many of those who believed had seen the risen Jesus for themselves. Their conviction that Jesus was alive and the enthusiasm and life that was generated by that experience was like a magnet, drawing others into the orbit of their belief and enabling them to experience the risen Lord for themselves. Unlike us, the first disciples had the advantage that they could build on a common belief in the Hebrew scriptures and the promises and expectations contained within. Even so, their conviction that Jesus was raised was so compelling that they drew into the emerging faith those who not only did not know the earthly Jesus, but also those with no background in the Jewish faith.

Today’s gospel is often used to suggest that those who believe in Jesus without knowing or seeing him for themselves are more blessed than those first-generation believers who had the advantage of seeing the risen Jesus. “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe” (20:29). These words have the weight of judgement or compulsion behind them and seem designed to encourage arrogance on the one hand and insecurity on the other. They do not sound like the words of Jesus. My suspicion is that these words belong to the generation of the gospel writers – a third generation church which was facing the same situation that we face – sharing the faith with those who have not and cannot meet the resurrected Jesus.

The words attributed to Jesus here are at odds with the rest of the account of Jesus’ appearance, which has at its heart knowing, seeing and experiencing for oneself that Jesus is alive. Until verse 29, there is no suggestion that the disciples need to have faith in the abstract idea of Jesus’ resurrection. As the gospels tell the story, it was only as Jesus’ followers came to see Jesus for themselves that they were convinced that he was alive. On the morning of that first day of the week, Mary Magdalene encountered and spoke with the risen Jesus. It was only later, when Jesus appeared among the disciples and showed them his wounds that they too rejoiced in their risen Lord. Finally, Jesus, instead of demanding that Thomas believe without seeing, appeared especially for him.

A personal encounter with the risen Lord convinced the disciples that he was alive, and being convinced that he was alive, they shared their conviction with any who would listen, drawing them into an experience of the risen Christ.

Centuries later people are still coming to faith through an encounter with the risen Lord because the resurrection is not a past event but a living reality. If Jesus has risen, then Jesus is alive, and if Jesus is alive, then it is possible for every succeeding generation to meet the risen Lord for themselves.

How we encounter the risen Lord differs from person to person. It may be the result of a dramatic encounter, or it may be the gradual realisation that one has absorbed and accepted for oneself the faith learnt as a child. It may take the form of a quiet assurance that Jesus is present in one’s life, or it may be an intellectual assent to the Gospels. Today’s gospel does not lay down a hard and fast rule, but allows that some will need to see, and that others will believe without seeing.

The first disciples could not help but share their experience. Successive generations have become more and more cautious. But others will only know what we know if we can share our passion or if we live in such a way that those around us can see that our lives are enriched and enlivened by our relationship with the risen Christ – by (among other things) our enthusiasm for life, our desire to make the world a better place, our steadfastness and calm in times of grief and trauma and our quiet presence.

How did you come to know the risen Christ? How does your life reveal that Christ is risen?

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The resurrection – an event without witnesses

April 8, 2023

Easter Day – 2023
Matthew 28:1-8
Marian Free

Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the final scene of Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ, a translucent figure (Jesus) rises from the slab in the tomb and walks out of view. It is a somewhat anti-climatic end to a movie that had been dominated by violence and drama. But how else I wonder, could Gibson have portrayed the resurrection? Unlike the empty tomb, which by all accounts was witnessed by a number of disciples, there were no witnesses to the resurrection. Indeed, on close inspection, the gospel accounts are tantalisingly unhelpful when it comes to details about the actual resurrection. No matter which gospel we read, the story is the same – by the time the women had reached the tomb, Jesus had already risen from the dead and left the (still sealed) tomb, unnoticed by anyone.

If Gibson’s depiction of the resurrection is a little disappointing, so too are the gospel accounts, which are very short on drama and which in fact, do not even mention the actual resurrection. More astounding, according to the gospels, Jesus did not hang around to see if anyone would come. In the briefest account of events, that of Mark, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary find to their surprise that the stone has been rolled away from the tomb (answering their question as to who would move it). A young man seated in the tomb tells them that Jesus has been raised and shows them where he had been lying. Jesus himself does not appear. According to Luke, the women came to the tomb only to find it open, and the body gone. Angels tell the women that Jesus is risen, but Jesus himself does not appear to anyone at all until later in the day. In John’s gospel, Mary Magdalene arrives at the tomb and sees that the stone has been rolled away. She runs to report to the others that Jesus body has been moved. Later, after Peter and John have confirmed that the tomb is empty, Jesus appears to Mary.

Of all the accounts, that of Matthew is the most dramatic. When the two Marys arrive at the tomb an earthquake signals the appearance of an angel who moves the stone to reveal an empty tomb. As in Mark, the angel informs the women Jesus has already risen and shows them where Jesus had lain. Jesus, who is not at the tomb, meets the women as they make their way to report to the disciples that Jesus has risen. The disciples themselves will not see Jesus until they make their way from Jerusalem back to Galilee. Even then, Jesus will not hang around, but having given his disciples their final instructions, he will ascend into heaven.

All we know for certain then is that sometime between the crucifixion and the morning after the Sabbath, Jesus rose from the dead and had left the tomb – leaving the stone in place. In other words, the most extraordinary claim of our faith – resurrection of Jesus – took place without fanfare and without an audience. We don’t know what happened or how it happened. We only know that Jesus’ disciples know that he has risen because he appeared to them – after he had first appeared to the women.

Gibson’s understated depiction of the resurrection is true to the gospel accounts of the event. The resurrection was not, as we might have expected it to be, an earth shattering, ground-breaking event – just the opposite. It occurred quietly and unobtrusively and without a single witness.

What a waste of an opportunity! Imagine the capital that could have been made by a very public, explosive event! Imagine If Jesus had chosen to stay in Jerusalem. Jerusalem was, after all, still filled with the pilgrims that had swelled its population for the Passover. What better place to announce Jesus’ victory over death, his triumph over his enemies? What better occasion to prove his detractors wrong? Why would he not use this opportunity to proclaim that he is indeed the Christ – the one sent by God? Why make the journey to the relative obscurity of Galilee and why, when there, does he only reveal himself to his disciples?

Why indeed? Because this is the whole point of the gospel. As we should know by now, Jesus was not an attention getter. In fact, the story of Jesus’ ministry ends as it began, with Jesus’ absolute refusal to be tempted to behave in any way that would attract acclaim, power, or glory. As with the earthly Jesus, so with the risen Jesus. He does not want to attract followers who are only interested in the hype – the miracles and the extra-ordinary. The risen Jesus, as was the earthly Jesus, is looking for followers who are there for the long haul, who will stick by him through thick and thin – followers who will take up their cross and follow him, followers who will not fall by the wayside when the going gets tough, followers who understand that faith is about relationship with Jesus and with the one true God, not about a life that is shielded from struggle and suffering.

We forget this at our peril.

Faith is not a series of dramatic, life-changing events, but a relationship based on the quiet assurance that Christ is alive and is as present to us as he was to his disciples. This is the message that we have to share – not that an all-powerful God will miraculously free us from all minor irritations and all serious inconveniences, but that God, in the risen Jesus is a constant presence with us – a source of peace, hope and strength. A God who may not prevent our suffering but will come alongside us in our distress. A God who does not seek power, and glory for their own sake, but who was prepared to abandon heaven, to show us how much we are loved.

Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

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A Good Friday

April 6, 2023

Good Friday – 2023
John 18:1-19:42
Marian Free

In the name of God, who shares our joys and triumphs, our sorrows and defeats. Amen.

Several decades ago, in a Bloor Street United Church in Toronto, Canada, a sculpture of a woman arms outstretched as if crucified, was hung below the cross in the chapel.  (Almuth Lutkenhaus’s sculpture Crucified Woman.) 

https://maryloudriedger2.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/crucified-woman-photo-by-ivana-dizdar.png
On seeing it, a woman who had experienced sexual abuse as a child wrote the following poem.

This poem, by an anonymous author, was included in a magazine published in conjunction with the Ecumenical Decade 1988-1998, Churches in Solidarity with women: Prayers and Poems, Songs and Stories.

Women in a Changing World, January 1988, no 25, a publication of the World Council of Churches, 150, route de Ferney, 1211 Geneva 20/Switzerland.)

By his wounds you are healed
1 Peter 2:24

O God,
through the image of a woman
crucified on the cross
I understand at last.

For over half my life
I have been ashamed
of the scars I bear.
These scars tell an ugly story,
a common story,
about a girl who is the victim
when a man acts out his fantasies.

In the warmth, peace and sunlight of your presence
I was able to uncurl the tightly clenched fists.
For the first time
I felt your suffering presence with me
in that event.
I have known you as a vulnerable baby,
as a brother, and as a father.
Now I know you as a woman.
You were there with me.
as the violated girl
caught in hopeless suffering.

The chains of shame and fear
no longer bind my heart and body.
A slow fire of compassion and forgiveness
is kindled.
My tears fall now for man as well as woman.

You, God,
can make our violated bodies
vessels of love and comfort
to such a desperate man.
I am honoured to carry this womanly power
within my body and soul.

You were not ashamed of your wounds.
You showed them to Thomas
as marks of your ordeal and death.
I will no longer hide these wounds of mine.
I will bear them gracefully,
They tell a resurrection story.

In the body of a crucified woman, this woman saw the story of her own suffering. She understood in that moment that she was not alone, that God in Jesus had suffered and was suffering with her. So powerful was her experience that, in a verse that I was tempted to omit, she even gives value to that suffering.

On the cross, Jesus showed once for all that the God in whom we believe does not stand aloof, remote, and indifferent to our suffering, but is intimately connected to and directly engaged with all humanity. God in Jesus endured betrayal, abandonment, and denial; he experienced a sham trial, humiliation, brutality and finally the cruellest of deaths.

On the cross, Jesus demonstrated that God stands in solidarity with all who have been violated, abused, and oppressed, with all who have been tortured, falsely accused, and wrongly executed, with all who have been colonised, neglected, overlooked, and abandoned. In the crucified Christ, all who suffer trauma, indignity, or humiliation, see someone who identifies with and shares their pain.

Only a God who fully identifies with our sufferings, can reassure us that God knows what we are going through. Only a God who suffers as we suffer can help us to endure (and even overcome) our own suffering. Only a God who fully enters the human condition can reassure us that God truly knows what it is to be human.

God does know – and that is what makes this Friday “Good”.

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Jesus kneels at our feet

April 5, 2023

Maundy Thursday – 2023
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
Marian Free

In the name of the God who kneels at our feet. Amen.

Different religious orders have different ways of reading scriptures. A characteristic of Ignatian Spirituality is an invitation to enter into the events of Jesus’ life – to envisage the scene – the sights, the smells, and the people – to notice what Jesus says and does, and, when you are familiar with the setting, to take on the role of one of the characters or of an imagined observer. If for example, you were reading Luke’s account of Jesus’ birth, you might imagine yourself as a maid from the inn who has brought something into the stable. As a bystander, you would notice the acrid smell of the animals, feel the straw scratching your arms and legs, and notice how exhausted Mary and Joseph are. You might even hear Mary’s cries as she gives birth and the first cry of the infant Jesus.

Tonight, I’d like you to enter the scene of Jesus’ last supper. Imagine that you have a place at the table. You are relaxed and comfortable and among people whom you have come to know and trust.

Without warning, Jesus gets up, takes off his robes and wraps a towel around him. You are surprised, shocked even, not to mention a little embarrassed for him. THEN, he kneels at your feet!

This is awkward – your host and teacher on the ground before you.

But it is about to get even worse. As you squirm, Jesus reaches for a bowl of water and begins to wash your feet. This is highly irregular. Only a servant would wash someone’s feet and then when you arrived at a home – not in the middle of a meal.

Never-the-less, Jesus gently takes one foot and then another, gently places them in the water, carefully and tenderly rubbing the dust from the soles of your feet, from between your toes. Then, one at a time, he takes your feet from the bowl and caresses them gently with the towel, before placing them back on the floor and moving to the person sitting beside you.

Can you picture it, Jesus kneeling at your feet, holding your feet in his hands? Can you imagine anything so intimate? His hair falling on your feet – you could bend down and brush his head with your lips. Can you feel the love flowing from him to you – love that doesn’t judge, love that makes no demands but only wants you to know that you are loved?

“Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end” (Jn 13:1,2).

This scene encapsulates the gospel as much as does the cross. On this night, the night Jesus knows will be his last, Jesus doesn’t remonstrate. Instead, he shows his love in an unequivocal way. Knowing what Judas is about to hand him over, Jesus kneels before him and washes his feet. Knowing that Peter will deny him, Jesus takes Peter’s feet in his hands and washes them. Understanding that his disciples will not have the courage to stand by him, Jesus kneels before them all and washes their feet.

This is how Jesus loves the flawed, the faithless, and the turncoat. It is how Jesus loves us.

Love is at the heart of the gospel.

Jesus kneels at our feet, vulnerable and exposed and we know then, if we did not know before, that we can do nothing to deserve that love and that there is nothing that we need to do. Jesus is already there on his knees before us.

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Innocent act or deliberate provocation? Jesus’ entry to Jerusalem

April 1, 2023

Palm Sunday – 2023
Matthew 26:14-27 (21:1-11)
Marian Free

In the name of God, source of all being, eternal word and Holy Spirit. Amen.

It is no wonder that our scriptures are sometimes referred to as the ‘living word’. There is always more to be discovered within the pages of our biblical text, always much more to be revealed than at first appears. This is in part because when we read a passage, a story or a Psalm there are many factors that come into play – our state of mind, our faith tradition, our prior understanding of the text, our knowledge of first century history and culture and our understanding of literary forms just to mention a few. Perhaps most importantly, because we believe that scriptures are inspired by God, and that the Holy Spirit informs our reading we approach the bible with a sense of expectation and wonder. What will it reveal on this occasion? What new things will I learn? There are times when I completely by surprise. I will be reading a familiar passage, when I notice a word or phrase as if for the very first time and see the passage in a completely new light .

Understanding scripture as the ‘living word’ frees us to read it from a variety of angles, exposes us to new possibilities and liberates us from the hubris of believing that we already know what it says and what it means for us.

In the Parish email this week I suggested that Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem was not an innocent act, but a deliberate strategy. Jesus, a little-known, travelling teacher from Galilee might not have received such a rousing welcome had he simply mingled with the crowds who were surging into Jerusalem for the Passover. By riding a donkey, Jesus was making sure that he stood out from the crowds. Riding a donkey that had a foal implies that Jesus intended the crowds to draw a parallel between himself and the triumphant king – Zechariah. If this was the case, it was this (not Jesus’ fame) that drew attention to himself, and which caused the crowds to react so joyously.

Knowledge of first century history throws more light on Jesus’ action.

As we know, Passover was a time of heightened tension in Jerusalem. At this time the population of Jerusalem swelled from 50,000 to 200,000, the visitors were filled with excitement and there were the usual problems associated with crowds. To maintain control at this. time, the Roman governor made it his business to be present in the city and with him, his troops. Pilate would have entered from the west in a blatant display of imperial power: “cavalry on horses, foot soldiers, leather armour, helmets, weapons, banners, golden eagles mounted on poles, sun glinting on metal and gold.”

In the light of Pilate’s procession, Jesus’ entry on the same day can be understood as a parody, an exposè of the foolishness of temporal power and a reminder that true power belongs to God. In contrast to the power and might of the Empire, Jesus’ reveals a power that does not rely on force and that will not assert its will by suppression.

Jesus knew that the people of Israel, oppressed and humiliated were looking for a leader who might drive the Romans from their land. Jesus, by mocking Pilate’s procession is enacting a different scenario, demonstrating that there is a different way to bring in God’s kingdom – a way of vulnerability, service and humility.

The contradictions of this day are echoed by contradictions of Holy Week –

Excitement becomes anxiety;
Joy becomes terror;
“Triumph” turns into defeat;
The cries of “hosanna” become the cries of “crucify him”;
The “king” who parodies the might of Rome, is in turn ridiculed by Roman soldiers;
The welcome of the crowds become their utter rejection of Jesus.

As we enter this most Holy Week, let us enter the story afresh, allow ourselves to notice the tensions and free the text to speak to us anew.

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A matter of time – the raising of Lazarus

March 25, 2023

Lent 5 – 2023
John 11:1-45
Marian Free

In the name of God who brought from nothing all that is, and who raises the dead to newness of life. Amen.

Time is an extraordinary concept. Even though years, months, days, and hours are determined by the sun and the moon, time is still an arbitrary and human-conceived construct. Though it appears to us that time is relatively fixed – an hour is always sixty minutes each of which is always sixty seconds – our experience of time varies according to the situation in which we find ourselves. A variety of factors mean that sometimes time seems to fly, whereas on other occasions we might feel that time passes ever so slowly. When we are really enjoying ourselves there does not seem to be enough time, yet when we are lying awake at night, time seems to stretch out unbearably .

Time is a key to this morning’s gospel. When Jesus receives the message that Lazarus (the one whom he loves) is ill he declares that the situation is not urgent and, instead of rushing to his friend’s side, he remains where he is for two more days. Sometime later, when Jesus and his entourage finally arrive at Bethany Lazarus has already been dead for four days. Again, time is the focus of the story. Martha and Mary both berate Jesus for not having come sooner: “If you had been here, my brother would not have died” they say. They believe that if only Jesus had arrived sooner, the outcome for Lazarus would have been quite different – a position held by some of the crowd, and almost certainly by ourselves the readers.

Jesus’ disciples, his friends and the crowd are focussed on earthly realities – Lazarus’ illness, Jesus’ delay, (his apparent lack of concern), the dangers of the journey, and Jesus’ failure to meet their expectations.

On the other hand, as John recounts the events, Jesus’ attitude to the situation is quite different. Unlike the other characters in the story Jesus is as much concerned with theological ideas as he is with practical issues . He is as much preoccupied with the meaning of events as he is with the events themselves. In other words, Jesus is less concerned with specifics because he can see the broader picture. Time is irrelevant to him because Jesus is able to view the situation through the eyes of God. This is why John’s account is interspersed with theological commentary.

Jesus wants the disciples (the readers) to see as he sees. So, when he hears that Lazarus is ill, Jesus delays. He explains to the disciples that there is no need to hurry because Lazarus’ illness will lead to the glorification of the Son of Man. Then, when the disciples caution him about going to Jerusalem, Jesus responds enigmatically. The dangers that they might face are irrelevant because God’s time is different from earthly time and those who “walk in the daylight will not stumble.” Finally, Martha’s distress at Jesus’ delay provides an opportunity for Jesus to teach about the resurrection (and indirectly is an occasion for Martha to declare Jesus’ true identity.)

For Martha and Mary (as it is for us) time is of the essence. They know what Jesus can do and are disappointed that Jesus did not respond to their need in the way that they had expected. Crudely put, in their grief, they are obsessed with their own concerns, their own agenda. They wish that they could have bent Jesus to their will, that he had come when they wanted, that he would have behaved as they would have had him behave.

Even when Jesus does come, they are unwilling to cede control of the situation. They believe that Jesus could have prevented Lazarus from dying but are not convinced that he can do anything now that Lazarus is dead.

Jesus however refuses to be limited and defined by their narrow (even selfish) expectations. It is not that he is without compassion, that he doesn’t care what happens to Lazarus. (We are told that he was greatly disturbed and deeply moved and even that he wept.) His agenda is different, as is his sense of urgency. He knows or at least senses what awaits him in Jerusalem, he knows what must occur before then, he knows that ultimately he is responsible to God (not his friends) and that his life will be determined by God’s timetable (not his own). So, even though Jesus loved Lazarus, Lazarus’ illness was not sufficient to sway him from his course. His actions will not be dictated to by human concerns, but only by the will of God.

While the miracle of the raising of Lazarus is significant, it is perhaps Jesus’ commentary on time that is more important for our own age. Like the characters in the story, we place expectations on God. We want things to happen according to our schedule. We are focussed on our own needs and we are disappointed when God doesn’t respond as we had hoped God would.

John’s account of the raising of Lazarus, is a reminder that (apparent) inaction is not an indication that God doesn’t care – after all Jesus’ wept – rather it is a reminder that God’s ways are not our ways (Is 55:8,9) and that: “with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day” (2 Peter 3:8, Ps. 90:4). Ultimately, we like Jesus must place ourselves entirely in God’s hands, because we cannot (and should not) try to bend God to our will or to make God conform to our expectations.

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Opening the eyes of the blind

March 18, 2023

Lent 4 – 2023
John 9:1-41
Marian Free


In the name of God, whose presence can only be seen by those whose hearts and eyes are open. Amen.

If the COVID pandemic taught us nothing else, it revealed that sometimes no amount of scientific evidence was sufficient to convince some people that vaccination and the wearing of masks were for their own protection and safety and were not a sign that the state was taking over their lives. Some people were so unwilling to give up their position that families were, and remain, divided. Not even stories of agonising and lonely deaths, or reports of exhausted health care workers were enough to shake their position. They were (are) so committed to one version of truth that they were unable to see (or to allow for) any other. It is clear that I belong to the group who were grateful to a government that had the well-being of its citizens at heart, and to the researchers who so quickly developed a vaccine that, if it didn’t keep me well, would at least prevent the virus from killing me. As the various protests indicated, there were a significant number of people who resisted change because they could not see or believe the danger that it presented to themselves, and to others.

Our gospel for today presents a similar situation – though perhaps in reverse. In the case of the gospel, it was good news, not bad, that was both opposed and rejected. In the gospel, it was the leaders who resisted change and novelty, and who saw it as a threat to their position and to their authority. The Pharisees and the Judeans were so stuck in their legalistic view of faith and so convinced that God demanded conformity to particular behaviours, that even the miracle of sight could not budge them from their position that breaking the law was dangerous and perverse. They (or their predecessors) had constructed a world view that enabled them to feel safe and secure in their relationship with God, but which prevented them from seeing God in any other way. For them to feel safe, their life, and their practice of their faith had to remain stable and unchanged – hard and unforgiving as the ground in the poem by Israeli poet, Yehuda Amichai which seems to speak to the heart of today’s gospel.

‘The Place Where We Are Right”
From the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.


The place where we are right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.


But doubts and loves
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.

In their desire to have a roadmap for salvation, to have clear precepts and laws that gave them reassurance that they were doing what it was that God wanted, Jesus’ opponents have solidified the commandments into hard and fast rules. Breaking those rules was seen to have serious consequences – not least of which was the law-breakers’ being excluded from the community of faith. The “law breaker” was deemed to have threatened the security of the community as a whole and therefore needed to be removed. The problem with holding this hard and fast position, was the conviction that God (fixed and unchanging) could be known and that God – arbiter of all behaviour – would judge as unworthy those who did not conform. There was no room for growth or development in that view of faith, no sense of wonder, no allowance for the possibility that God might act in new ways, or that, as God has done in the past, so in the present God might break through and reveal Godself in startling and fresh ways. The ground of ‘faith’ had been trampled and made so hard that new life could not possibly break through.

For those who had found security and certainty in a particular set of beliefs (truths), the thought of examining or questioning those beliefs was terrifying. What if they were proved to be wrong? If they let go of one “truth” would the whole structure on which they have built their faith be shattered? On the other hand, if they were right and yet were tempted to rejoice in Jesus’ bringing of sight, would God’s wrath be poured out upon them because they had dared to question what had always been? It was safer to hold on to what they had always believed (and to force others to do likewise), than to risk the possibility that they might have been wrong. In their desire to maintain the status quo, they needed to reject and discredit anything that threatened their way of seeing the world and God.

This explains why, in today’s gospel, no one – not even the blind man’s parents – was able to rejoice in the fact that his sight had been restored. They were terrified that their whole world would come tumbling down and with it their sense of security and (in the case of the Pharisees) their claim to authority. They were determined to hold on to what they had held to be true – that one should not work on the Sabbath – even if the alternative was life-giving and restorative. They were blind to the possibility that the giving of sight was a gift from God, and that the giver, Jesus was not a sinner but a bearer of God’s likeness.


Truth is a key concept in John’s gospel. We are told that: “The Word became flesh, full of grace and truth” (1:14). And: “You will know the truth and the truth will set you free” (8:32). We have seen that Jesus challenged Nicodemus to be open to rebirth. He questioned the version of truth held by the Samaritan woman and here he opens the eyes of the blind man so that he might accept a new version of reality.


Let us pray that we may not be so locked into our own understanding of what is true, that we, like the Pharisees are blinded to God’s presence among us – even when that presence is totally different from what we had expected. May we create a yard in which flowers may grow in the spring.

From the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.


The place where we are right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.


But doubts and loves
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.

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Breaking boundaries- Jesus at the well

March 11, 2023

 

Lent 3 -2023

Luke 4:5-42

Marian Free

 

In the name of God for whom there are no boundaries, who sees and loves us just as we are. Amen.

 

Last week was International Pride Week – a whole week dedicated to celebrating the lives of all who do not fit the heteronormative profile.  It was an opportunity for members of the LGBTQI+ community to celebrate who they are and for the rest of us to celebrate the diversity of humanity. Community reaction was, by and large positive. Two things stood out for me. I had heard that the Uniting Church in Pitt St Sydney had painted their steps in the colours of the rainbow and had made it clear that theirs was a welcoming and inclusive church. Sadly some, unable to accept or tolerate difference, defaced the steps with grey paint[1]. In complete contrast, the Coles Supermarket chain used their free magazine to celebrate Pride week (with rainbow themed recipes) and to shine a light on the diversity and inclusiveness of their workforce.

 

While the wider population have come to a point where they can recognize the value of all people regardless of their gender identity, there are many (represented by our paint throwers) who want to judge, to draw boundaries and to exclude those who don’t fit their idea of who and what is acceptable.

 

Today’s gospel speaks to the issue of boundaries and in particular to the way in which Jesus ignored or defied boundaries which to him were arbitrary, unnecessary and even irrelevant when it came to the bigger picture of worshipping God. Jesus constantly caused offense by acknowledging, befriending and uplifting those whom his own community would exclude – lepers, sinners, prostitutes, tax-collectors, and even those with whom is own community is in serious conflict – the Samaritans.

 

Following on from Jesus’ discussion with Nicodemus, John continues his story of Jesus with another encounter (the Samaritan woman), another opportunity to demonstrate the way in which Jesus introduces a puzzle (never thirst again) which provokes his conversation partner to question what he has said (are you greater than our father Jacob?). This in turn provides an opportunity for Jesus to elaborate, to develop the idea of living water and to build on the faith which he and the woman share. Through the process of discussion and discourse Jesus’ dialogue partner (the woman) comes to a deeper understanding and, in this instance, to faith and to proclamation.  

 

According to the gospel account, Jesus, having been in Jerusalem for Passover, is returning to Galilee. The quickest way to do this is to travel through Samaria – something which most Jews would avoid.  Tensions between the two groups of people were high and Jesus could not be certain of safe passage. The Samaritans were perhaps the worst kind of enemies – those who with whom the Jews had most in common, but with whom they disagreed on what to us are trivial matters – the date of Passover and the mountain on which Yahweh. That they had the same law and observed many of the same customs only made the differences between them more obvious and the tensions more extreme. They were competing for what they believed to be the truth[2] – the stakes could not be higher.

 

When Jesus asked the woman (a complete stranger) for a drink, he was overlooking centuries of enmity and more astounding, he was revealing his vulnerability – he needed help, the woman was in a position to give it. Immediately, he breaks down any reservations the woman might have. Though he is a Jew, he is vulnerable. He is not a threat.

 

In engaging the woman Jesus saw beyond her gender, ethnicity, religion and marital status to that which they had in common – faith in God and a longing for the kingdom to be restored. In the face of their shared faith, all other barriers dissolved. Instead of seeing difference Jesus saw what they shared, perhaps more importantly he recognised the woman’s spiritual thirst – a thirst he could slake. He saw too, that the woman needed help to move beyond the superficial observance of faith to a deeper, more personal relationship with God. In order to do this, Jesus began the conversation with a conundrum, piquing her interest and drawing her into discussion. The woman responded with what she knew, the visible and practical -whose well and which is the correct mountain on which to worship.  Jesus moved her beyond these trivial and earthly details (details which separate and divide), to what really mattered – the spiritual worship of the God in whom they both believe.

 

Instead of accentuating difference, or asking the woman (and her community) to conform to the Jewish practice of the faith, Jesus looked beyond the detail to the bigger picture – the faith that they shared – faith in the one true God. Instead of criticizing and condemning the Samaritan practice of faith, Jesus affirmed their faithfulness and shared with them the message that he had for all people. As a result, he broke the walls of enmity and with the help of the woman drew all her neighbours into a new, renewed relationship with God

 

Jesus’ conversation with the Samaritan woman (the longest recorded conversation that he has with anyone) shines a light on our own pettiness, our concern with details (rather than the big picture), our tendency to see difference rather than commonality and our willingness to judge and exclude those who hold a view other than our own.

 

Jesus was not concerned to know whether the Samaritan woman was rich or poor, promiscuous or chaste, Samaritan or Jew. He didn’t want to change or “fix” her. He saw beyond the outward appearance of social isolation and shame, to their shared faith and their shared longing and it was to her, a woman of Samaria, that he first revealed himself to be the Messiah.

 

It is usually trivial matters that keep us apart. Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well challenges us to ask:

 

What “truths” do we hold on to that limit, separate and divide?

In what ways do we deny other full expression of their humanity?

Are we guilty of excluding from full participation to the community of faith or to the sacraments – baptism, Eucharist, marriage – those who do not fit our prescriptive norms?

 

Can we, like Jesus, to see beyond the external, to the superficial specifics, to the broader, deeper, more significant, shared faith in the one true God?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.

 

[1] The rainbow was repainted.

[2] Similar differences – the date of Easter, and how to shave one’s head – were among the reasons that the church originally divided – into East and west.

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Breaking boundaries- Jesus at the well

March 11, 2023

It is usually trivial matters that keep us apart. Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well challenges us to ask:

What “truths” do we hold on to that limit, separate and divide?

In what ways do we deny other full expression of their humanity?

Are we guilty of excluding from full participation to the community of faith or to the sacraments – baptism, Eucharist, marriage – those who do not fit our prescriptive norms?

 

Can we, like Jesus, to see beyond the external, to the superficial specifics, to the broader, deeper, more significant, shared faith in the one true God?

 

 

Lent 3 -2023

Luke 4:5-42

Marian Free

 

In the name of God for whom there are no boundaries, who sees and loves us just as we are. Amen.

 

Last week was International Pride Week – a whole week dedicated to celebrating the lives of all who do not fit the heteronormative profile.  It was an opportunity for members of the LGBTQI+ community to celebrate who they are and for the rest of us to celebrate the diversity of humanity. Community reaction was, by and large positive. Two things stood out for me. I had heard that the Uniting Church in Pitt St Sydney had painted their steps in the colours of the rainbow and had made it clear that theirs was a welcoming and inclusive church. Sadly some, unable to accept or tolerate difference, defaced the steps with grey paint[1]. In complete contrast, the Coles Supermarket chain used their free magazine to celebrate Pride week (with rainbow themed recipes) and to shine a light on the diversity and inclusiveness of their workforce.

 

While the wider population have come to a point where they can recognize the value of all people regardless of their gender identity, there are many (represented by our paint throwers) who want to judge, to draw boundaries and to exclude those who don’t fit their idea of who and what is acceptable.

 

Today’s gospel speaks to the issue of boundaries and in particular to the way in which Jesus ignored or defied boundaries which to him were arbitrary, unnecessary and even irrelevant when it came to the bigger picture of worshipping God. Jesus constantly caused offense by acknowledging, befriending and uplifting those whom his own community would exclude – lepers, sinners, prostitutes, tax-collectors, and even those with whom is own community is in serious conflict – the Samaritans.

 

Following on from Jesus’ discussion with Nicodemus, John continues his story of Jesus with another encounter (the Samaritan woman), another opportunity to demonstrate the way in which Jesus introduces a puzzle (never thirst again) which provokes his conversation partner to question what he has said (are you greater than our father Jacob?). This in turn provides an opportunity for Jesus to elaborate, to develop the idea of living water and to build on the faith which he and the woman share. Through the process of discussion and discourse Jesus’ dialogue partner (the woman) comes to a deeper understanding and, in this instance, to faith and to proclamation.  

 

According to the gospel account, Jesus, having been in Jerusalem for Passover, is returning to Galilee. The quickest way to do this is to travel through Samaria – something which most Jews would avoid.  Tensions between the two groups of people were high and Jesus could not be certain of safe passage. The Samaritans were perhaps the worst kind of enemies – those who with whom the Jews had most in common, but with whom they disagreed on what to us are trivial matters – the date of Passover and the mountain on which Yahweh. That they had the same law and observed many of the same customs only made the differences between them more obvious and the tensions more extreme. They were competing for what they believed to be the truth[2] – the stakes could not be higher.

 

When Jesus asked the woman (a complete stranger) for a drink, he was overlooking centuries of enmity and more astounding, he was revealing his vulnerability – he needed help, the woman was in a position to give it. Immediately, he breaks down any reservations the woman might have. Though he is a Jew, he is vulnerable. He is not a threat.

 

In engaging the woman Jesus saw beyond her gender, ethnicity, religion and marital status to that which they had in common – faith in God and a longing for the kingdom to be restored. In the face of their shared faith, all other barriers dissolved. Instead of seeing difference Jesus saw what they shared, perhaps more importantly he recognised the woman’s spiritual thirst – a thirst he could slake. He saw too, that the woman needed help to move beyond the superficial observance of faith to a deeper, more personal relationship with God. In order to do this, Jesus began the conversation with a conundrum, piquing her interest and drawing her into discussion. The woman responded with what she knew, the visible and practical -whose well and which is the correct mountain on which to worship.  Jesus moved her beyond these trivial and earthly details (details which separate and divide), to what really mattered – the spiritual worship of the God in whom they both believe.

 

Instead of accentuating difference, or asking the woman (and her community) to conform to the Jewish practice of the faith, Jesus looked beyond the detail to the bigger picture – the faith that they shared – faith in the one true God. Instead of criticizing and condemning the Samaritan practice of faith, Jesus affirmed their faithfulness and shared with them the message that he had for all people. As a result, he broke the walls of enmity and with the help of the woman drew all her neighbours into a new, renewed relationship with God

 

Jesus’ conversation with the Samaritan woman (the longest recorded conversation that he has with anyone) shines a light on our own pettiness, our concern with details (rather than the big picture), our tendency to see difference rather than commonality and our willingness to judge and exclude those who hold a view other than our own.

 

Jesus was not concerned to know whether the Samaritan woman was rich or poor, promiscuous or chaste, Samaritan or Jew. He didn’t want to change or “fix” her. He saw beyond the outward appearance of social isolation and shame, to their shared faith and their shared longing and it was to her, a woman of Samaria, that he first revealed himself to be the Messiah.

 

It is usually trivial matters that keep us apart. Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well challenges us to ask:

 

What “truths” do we hold on to that limit, separate and divide?

In what ways do we deny other full expression of their humanity?

Are we guilty of excluding from full participation to the community of faith or to the sacraments – baptism, Eucharist, marriage – those who do not fit our prescriptive norms?

 

Can we, like Jesus, to see beyond the external, to the superficial specifics, to the broader, deeper, more significant, shared faith in the one true God?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.

 

[1] The rainbow was repainted.

[2] Similar differences – the date of Easter, and how to shave one’s head – were among the reasons that the church originally divided – into East and west.

Lent 3 -2023
Luke 4:5-42
Marian Free

In the name of God for whom there are no boundaries, who sees and loves us just as we are. Amen.

Last week was International Pride Week – a whole week dedicated to celebrating the lives of all who do not fit the heteronormative profile. It was an opportunity for members of the LGBTQI+ community to celebrate who they are and for the rest of us to celebrate the diversity of humanity. Community reaction was, by and large positive. Two things stood out for me. I had heard that the Uniting Church in Pitt St Sydney had painted their steps in the colours of the rainbow and had made it clear that theirs was a welcoming and inclusive church. Sadly some, unable to accept or tolerate difference, defaced the steps with grey paint . In complete contrast, the Coles Supermarket chain used their free magazine to celebrate Pride week (with rainbow themed recipes) and to shine a light on the diversity and inclusiveness of their workforce.

While the wider population have come to a point where they can recognize the value of all people regardless of their gender identity, there are many (represented by our paint throwers) who want to judge, to draw boundaries and to exclude those who don’t fit their idea of who and what is acceptable.

Today’s gospel speaks to the issue of boundaries and in particular to the way in which Jesus ignored or defied boundaries which to him were arbitrary, unnecessary and even irrelevant when it came to the bigger picture of worshipping God. Jesus constantly caused offense by acknowledging, befriending and uplifting those whom his own community would exclude – lepers, sinners, prostitutes, tax-collectors, and even those with whom is own community is in serious conflict – the Samaritans.

Following on from Jesus’ discussion with Nicodemus, John continues his story of Jesus with another encounter (the Samaritan woman), another opportunity to demonstrate the way in which Jesus introduces a puzzle (never thirst again) which provokes his conversation partner to question what he has said (are you greater than our father Jacob?). This in turn provides an opportunity for Jesus to elaborate, to develop the idea of living water and to build on the faith which he and the woman share. Through the process of discussion and discourse Jesus’ dialogue partner (the woman) comes to a deeper understanding and, in this instance, to faith and to proclamation.

According to the gospel account, Jesus, having been in Jerusalem for Passover, is returning to Galilee. The quickest way to do this is to travel through Samaria – something which most Jews would avoid. Tensions between the two groups of people were high and Jesus could not be certain of safe passage. The Samaritans were perhaps the worst kind of enemies – those who with whom the Jews had most in common, but with whom they disagreed on what to us are trivial matters – the date of Passover and the mountain on which Yahweh. That they had the same law and observed many of the same customs only made the differences between them more obvious and the tensions more extreme. They were competing for what they believed to be the truth – the stakes could not be higher.

When Jesus asked the woman (a complete stranger) for a drink, he was overlooking centuries of enmity and more astounding, he was revealing his vulnerability – he needed help, the woman was in a position to give it. Immediately, he breaks down any reservations the woman might have. Though he is a Jew, he is vulnerable. He is not a threat.

In engaging the woman Jesus saw beyond her gender, ethnicity, religion and marital status to that which they had in common – faith in God and a longing for the kingdom to be restored. In the face of their shared faith, all other barriers dissolved. Instead of seeing difference Jesus saw what they shared, perhaps more importantly he recognised the woman’s spiritual thirst – a thirst he could slake. He saw too, that the woman needed help to move beyond the superficial observance of faith to a deeper, more personal relationship with God. In order to do this, Jesus began the conversation with a conundrum, piquing her interest and drawing her into discussion. The woman responded with what she knew, the visible and practical -whose well and which is the correct mountain on which to worship. Jesus moved her beyond these trivial and earthly details (details which separate and divide), to what really mattered – the spiritual worship of the God in whom they both believe.

Instead of accentuating difference, or asking the woman (and her community) to conform to the Jewish practice of the faith, Jesus looked beyond the detail to the bigger picture – the faith that they shared – faith in the one true God. Instead of criticizing and condemning the Samaritan practice of faith, Jesus affirmed their faithfulness and shared with them the message that he had for all people. As a result, he broke the walls of enmity and with the help of the woman drew all her neighbours into a new, renewed relationship with God

Jesus’ conversation with the Samaritan woman (the longest recorded conversation that he has with anyone) shines a light on our own pettiness, our concern with details (rather than the big picture), our tendency to see difference rather than commonality and our willingness to judge and exclude those who hold a view other than our own.

Jesus was not concerned to know whether the Samaritan woman was rich or poor, promiscuous or chaste, Samaritan or Jew. He didn’t want to change or “fix” her. He saw beyond the outward appearance of social isolation and shame, to their shared faith and their shared longing and it was to her, a woman of Samaria, that he first revealed himself to be the Messiah.

It is usually trivial matters that keep us apart. Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well challenges us to ask:

What “truths” do we hold on to that limit, separate and divide?
In what ways do we deny other full expression of their humanity?
Are we guilty of excluding from full participation to the community of faith or to the sacraments – baptism, Eucharist, marriage – those who do not fit our prescriptive norms?

Can we, like Jesus, to see beyond the external, to the superficial specifics, to the broader, deeper, more significant, shared faith in the one true God?

.

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Not seeing the wood for the trees – John 3

March 4, 2023

Lent 2 – 2023
John 3:1-17
Marian Free

In the name of God who cannot be confined or contained by our limited imaginations. Amen.

During the last week, Bishop Jeremy posted the following on Facebook: “How would the Church deal with the phrase ‘the cat sat on the mat’ if it appeared in the Bible?
The liberal theologians would point out that such a passage did not of course mean that the cat literally sat on the mat. Also, cat and mat had different meanings in those days from today, and anyway, the text should be interpreted according to the customs and practices of the period.
This would lead to an immediate backlash from the more fundamental wing. They would make an essential condition of faith that a real physical, living cat, being a domestic pet of the Felix Domesticus species, and having a whiskered head and furry body, four legs and a tail, did physically place its whole body on a floor covering, designed for that purpose, and which is on the floor but not of the floor. The expression “on the floor but not off the floor” would be explained in a leaflet.” (Methodically Reordered) It continued with suggestions for the Catholic Church, the Orthodox Church and for the C of E.

That would be funny if it wasn’t so tragic. Whenever there is debate within or between churches, there is a tendency to fall into the trap of focussing on a single detail, rather than exploring the broader picture.

This is particularly true when it comes to our reading of John’s gospel and chapter three, which we have just heard, is a good example of the temptation to focus on a single point instead of trying to discover how this chapter, (how Nicodemus) fits into the gospel as a whole. Like much of John’s gospel, chapter three is dense and includes many different points of interest – being born again, snakes on poles, our most loved scriptural quote and commentary on the contrast between those who choose the light and those who choose the dark. It is easy for a preacher (or reader) to focus on one small sub-theme, rather than to look at the chapter in its entirety, let alone to examine its relationship to the gospel as a whole. (Many of us are very familiar with the imagery of being born again, but know less about the rest of the chapter.)

John is unique among the gospels. Not only is the content very different from the Synoptic gospels but so too is the way in which the gospel is written. The author of the fourth gospel is very explicit as to his purpose: “these [things] are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the anointed, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name” (Jn 20 31). In order to achieve this goal, the author of John’s gospel employs a number of literary techniques that are intended to draw the readers into a deeper relationship with Jesus.

Among the strategies that John uses are the following. Symbolism. Many of the words and phrases in the gospel have more than one meaning – bread of life, light of the world and so on. Dualism or contrasts. The author of the gospel presents two different forms of existence between which listeners must choose – light/dark, life/death, spirit/flesh, above/below. Dialogue and discourse. In the Synoptic gospels, Jesus’ teaching is presented as sayings or parables. In the fourth gospel, teaching occurs through discussion or through a speech. That is, Jesus draws another person into conversation – which causes bewilderment, but which through the course of the conversation may lead to deeper understanding on the part of the conversation partner. (Think for example of his. conversation with the Samaritan woman at the well – chapter 4.) At other times, a question might lead to a longer discourse such as we see after the feeding of the five thousand when Jesus launches into a dissertation on the meaning of bread (chapter 6).

Repetition of issues, themes and even characters. This has the effect of keeping certain ideas in front of the reader or enabling the elaboration of a theme over the course of the gospel. (When a character reappears, his or her role in the overall story is what is important, not who they are as a person.) In the case of the Beloved Disciple his repeated appearances reveal his similarity to Jesus, and mean that we are not at all surprised when he is asked to take Jesus’ place as Mary’s son.

Coming to faith. Whether it is through discussion with or exposure to Jesus, whether it is immediate or gradual, the various characters in the gospel move from bewilderment to understanding, from inquisitiveness to faith OR from scepticism to unbelief.

Jesus’ encounter with Nicodemus provides an illustration of these techniques. This is why it is important to see the chapter as a whole and not to be distracted by detail (to be worried about what sort of cat is sitting on what sort of mat).

In this chapter, we see that Nicodemus coming to Jesus at night – the darkness symbolising ignorance and revealing Nicodemus’ fear of discovery. Nicodemus’ confusion begins a dialogue with Jesus and also provides a teaching opportunity for Jesus – primarily about the distinctions between flesh and spirit, light and dark and above and below. Nicodemus aopears twice more. In chapter 7 his role is to illustrate the division between the Jews (and to let us think that he is on Jesus’ side – he has moved towards belief. His third and last appearance is at the tomb where he provides 100 pounds of ointments to prepare Jesus’ body for burial and at the same time fulfills a legal need for there to be two witnesses to the fact that Jesus was buried. Overall then, Nicodemus provides an illustration of a person who moves from indifference and confusion, through neutrality, to commitment and understanding.

In this and every gospel, the detail is important, but so too is the overarching theme, the broad sweep of the story, a story that is intended to bring the readers to faith in Jesus and through faith to life in Jesus’ name. In the end, we don’t want to be guilty of not seeing the wood for the trees, of allowing the detail to obscure the complete picture.

Instead of nit-picking about the details (arguing about the cat on the mat, about gay marriage, about candles and robes, about prayer books. and hymnals), we as Christians, as church, should try to focus on the big picture – God’s love for us and God’s saving action through Jesus. When we grasp this, everything else will fall into place.

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