Persistence or trust?

October 15, 2022

Pentecost 19 – 2022
Luke 18:1-14
Marian Free

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

Allow me to read the first parable again.

And he said a parable to them. Concerning their necessity always to pray and not to become discouraged, saying,
“Some judge was in some city; God was he not fearing, and people was he not respecting. And a widow was in that city. And she kept coming to him, saying, ‘Avenge/grant me justice against my adversary.’
“And not did he wish at that time. But after these things he said to himself, ‘if even God I do not fear no people do I respect, yet on account of the trouble this widow causes, I will avenge her, so that not into the end, coming, she will give me a black eye.’”
And said the Lord, “Hear what the unjust judge says. And will not God make vengeance to his elect, those who cry to him day and night, and will he be patient upon them? I say to you that he will avenge them swiftly. Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, then will he find faith upon the earth?

Now I imagine that translation might have taken you aback. It is awkward because it is a literal translation, and it is confronting because it forces us to see the parable in a different light. It is however a more translation and as such helps to give us a clearer sense of the parable’s meaning.

Collectively, we have a tendency to be complacent, if not lazy, when it comes to matters of faith. For example, when it comes to the bible, if or when we read it, we presume to know and understand it. Very often, we see what we expect to see rather than approaching the text afresh and asking questions and exploring it more deeply to see what else it might reveal. Familiarity does not so much breed contempt as it encourages complacency. It is easy to assume that what we have been told – at Sunday School or in a sermon – remains true for all time. This is especially true of the parables. We know the parables so well, they. Have been explained to us so often, that we can sum them up in a single phrase. The prodigal son, the good Samaritan, the barn builder and the persistent widow all bring up images not only of the parable, but of the meaning of the parable.

It is comforting and reassuring to have at our disposal stories that encapsulate what it is to be a neighbour, that illustrate how much God loves us or show the foolishness of storing up one’s wealth. Every now and again though it doesn’t hurt to be challenged, to have our traditional interpretations thrown into question or to see a saying or a parable in a new light because nothing is set in stone no one alive today was present to hear Jesus teach and even our gospel writers are the second or third generation of followers.

Before our gospels were written in their current form, Jesus’ teachings were conveyed orally. Over time different leaders will have given them different emphases depending on the needs of their audiences. When the gospel writers finally gathered Jesus’ sayings into a form of biography, they made decisions about the order in which they would present Jesus’ teaching and life. In the process they also included their own editorial comments – creating a narrative and sometimes interpreting Jesus’ words for the readers. The story didn’t end there. During the course of history, the bible was translated – first into Latin and then into the common language of the people. Translation led to another layer of interpretation. No matter how dispassionate they tried to be, each translator came to the scripture with a pre-existing bias which imposed itself on the text.

Few of us are aware of such biases and of what we bring to the text.

The literal translation of today’s parable of the widow and the judge is a good illustration of the problem. Even though the word εδικεω (edikeo) means to avenge, our translators have chosen (for whatever reason) to translate it as justice. Vengeance is a strong and uncomfortable word, and it certainly doesn’t fit with our received learning that the widow has no agency, that she needs someone to take her side. Yet there is no suggestion in the parable that our widow is powerless OR that she is meek and vulnerable. Indeed, she is arguing her case before the judge, without anyone to support her. She wants revenge and she will get it by wearing the judge down. When the judge finally gives in, it is less because of the widow’s persistence and more because he is afraid that she will resort to violence if he doesn’t give her what she wants.

This is a much more likely scenario than the one we usually associate with this parable. Jesus’ parables are intended to shock us, to challenge our conventional way of thinking. If we domesticate them (have the widow seek justice not mercy) we take away their sting – the point that Jesus is making to force us to re-think the way we see the world. Luke’s addition to the parable does just that. The parable proper is the story of the widow and the judge (verses 2 through 5). By adding an introduction and conclusion, Luke uses Jesus’ parable for a specific different purpose. Luke’s introduction and conclusion – Jesus told them a parable about the need to: “pray always and do not lose heart” and concludes that God will give justice to those who: “cry to him day and night” suggest that he uses it to encourage Jesus’ followers to pray – even when the circumstances seem to mitigate against prayer. (Luke’s additions and the translators’ preference for justice rather than vengeance contribute to a picture of a widow who is vulnerable and praiseworthy.)

But, as Amy-Jill Levine points out – in this parable neither the judge, nor the widow are ‘moral exemplars’. The widow seeks vengeance and will not stop until she is satisfied, and the judge allows himself to be corrupted or at least compromised – by giving in to the widow, even though he presumably did not think she had just cause.

The point is precisely that God is not like the judge, and we are not to be like the widow. God does not need to be worn down by our consistent pressing and cannot be forced into acting against God’s nature. We are not to be like the widow – taking things into our own hands, battering God into submission, or trying to bend God to our will. God can be trusted and God will grant justice to God’s elect. Our task is not to persist, but to trust, to believe that it is in God’s nature to bring about justice and that God will hear the cries of the broken-hearted and oppressed.

“Vengeance is mine” says the Lord in Deuteronomy (32:35)
If there is vengeance to be taken, God will take it. So we can leave it to God.

“Socks or the Cinema?”

October 8, 2022

Pentecost 18 – 2022
Luke 17:11-19
Marian Free

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

When we downsized, I gave away most of my library knowing that should I need to refer to any of my books, they would almost certainly be easily accessible in digital form. Failing that I would find them at the College Library. There are some books though, that I find impossible to give away. These are usually books with deep wisdom or insight, books that have enriched my life and to which I return again and again. I am particularly careful with such books and if I lose them I will search everywhere until I can replace them. One such book was recommended to me when I was still in theological college. Poor in Spirit – Modern Parables of the Reign of God by Charles Lepetit . It is probably irreplaceable.

Poor in Spirit contains fifty stories which recall encounters that have changed the lives of their writers. Some are set in a western urban setting, but most tell of experiences in third world countries, of people who according to Lepetit : “are hungry, marginalised, handicapped. They make a living by working too hard. They all have one thing in common: that of the heart.” The stories tell of generosity to a stranger, being blessed by a beggar and of receiving a gift from another, of praising God with an empty stomach and nothing to feed the children. Above all the stories tell of joy and gratitude and of the grace and hope that can coexist with the most dire poverty and in the most desperate of situations.

One story, “Socks or the Cinema?” comes from North Africa and was shared by Lisa. She begins: “They found him one morning lying by his bike under a leaden August sky. Death must have come suddenly. It was him alright in his usual blue work trousers, shirt, grey woollen cap and orthopaedic shoes. He had been struck by leprosy and cruelly. Most of each foot and all ten fingers were gone. It was torture for him to walk. His face was disfigured, but an extraordinary smile transfigured it. Yet those same eyes had stared at leprosy face to face. At the most terrible moment of the disease our friend had tried to drown himself. ‘But even the sea didn’t want me, and I was washed up on the beach.’

“Our friend would wear stumps of his hands raw, filling his customer’s bags with charcoal. He said: ‘Hunger is a terrible thing. Once I had no work, and nothing to eat. At last I said to myself: ‘I will just have to start begging.’ I had never learned how. I sat by someone’s door and tried to think what to call out, but all that came out was a cry because I began to weep aloud. I left in a hurry and walked all night. Then I saw a freshly baked loaf of bread that someone had forgotten on top of a little wall. I understood that God was watching over me.”

“One day he announced that he had a guest, someone with the same disease who cuts grass for sheep and sells it at the market. ‘Yesterday he returned with three beautiful coins. He had found them on the pavement.’ ‘What shall we do with them he asked?’ We thought about it. Then I said to him, ‘It is true that you need new socks. But this money here, we haven’t earned it. God has given it to us. Why don’t we go to the cinema? One needs a change of scene sometimes.’
“’So we went to the cinema, and we had a very nice evening.’”

My heart is always warmed by the extravagance and simple joy of the visit to the cinema – of the ability, from a position of desperation, to be able to show gratitude for an unexpected gift and to use that gift to bring joy and to be lifted out of one’s situation even for a few hours.

Luke’s account of the ten lepers provides few details, but those that are included are tantalising. Jesus is between Galilee and Samaria – in a sort of no man’s land. The ten leprous men also exist in an in-between place. They are separated from home, family, and community and from any means of earning an income. Their presence causes fear, even revulsion and if, like the man in our story they have leprosy proper, not another skin disease, their bodies may be slowly rotting, and their lives may be lives of constant pain.

One imagines that the situation may be even worse for the Samaritan – why else would he find himself among a group of Jews here on the edge of nowhere? Unlike the Jews he would not be welcome in the Temple in Jerusalem. Is it because he is the most marginalised of the ten that he returns? Is it because his people have no Temple that he must worship God where he finds him – in Jesus? We will never know. What we do know is that nine did what Jesus said, and went to the Temple and one, the outsider, came back gave thanks.

Much as we don’t like to admit it, typically, we are the insiders. For most of us everyday life is not a constant struggle and while the system is far from perfect, we at least know that there is some sort of safety net if the ground is pulled from under us.

I imagine that few of us know the sort of poverty experienced by those who comb through the refuse dumps outside of Manilla, those who are forced to beg on the streets of India, or those who are so desperate to feed their families that they will sell their daughters (or indenture themselves) into slavery. Many of us take for granted that we are housed, clothed and fed. In this country we are rarely confronted by the horrific conditions in which a majority of this earth’s population lives.
I suspect that if we had even the smallest idea of how the other half lives that nearly every moment of everyday, we would, like the leper, want to praise God with a loud voice and to prostrate ourselves at the feet of Jesus.

For what are you grateful and how often have you thanked God today?

Get over yourselves – be as a mustard seed

October 1, 2022

Pentecost 17 – 2022
Luke 17:5-10
Marian Free

In the name of God – Source of all being, Word of Life, Holy Spirit. Amen.

Apparently the Danish theologian Soren Kierkegaard said that “we need to forget all Christian language for 100 years”. It is a radical statement, but one that deserves to be taken seriously. There are so many “givens” that we now take for granted – especially when it comes to our biblical texts – that we are in danger of losing the original meaning of a text or of reading into a text what we expect to be there, rather than being open to what is actually there. Starting with a clean slate (abandoning inherited interpretations) would provide an opportunity to see our faith and our texts with fresh eyes and to glean a new – more accurate – understanding.

Today’s gospel provides one such example of the way in which we have read things into the text or used a text for our own purposes. This is because a) we approach the text from a particular viewpoint and b) because the literal translation of the Greek doesn’t immediately make sense.

The gospel this evening consists of two apparently unrelated texts – a demand for faith on the part of the disciples followed by Jesus’ example of the relationship between slaves and masters. Examining these texts anew and without the baggage of our existing understanding shows them to be closely related and makes it clear that they are less about the amount of faith one has and more about a life of faith as servants of God.

A traditional interpretation of our text is that if only we had enough faith, we could do astonishing – if extremely odd – feats. Doing the extraordinary – uprooting and re-planting mulberry trees, healing the sick or turning water into wine – has become, at least for some, a benchmark of the degree of faith that one has. Behind this is an assumption that faith is somehow quantifiable, something that we can measure, a benchmark that we should aim to reach. The implication is that it is possible to have too little faith, or that faith and the performing of miracles are intimately related.

Three things argue against this interpretation.

First is the context. The disciples’ demand to have their faith added to follows Jesus’ instruction to forgive. (Forgiveness might be miraculous, but it has nothing to do with the moving of mulberry trees.)

A second argument against the idea that Jesus’ saying has to do with the amount of faith one has is revealed by an examination of Greek text. When we do that, we discover that the translators have done what they often do – they have added words. This is because it seems to them that the original text needs additional words in order to make sense. The presumption seems to be – if the disciples have asked Jesus to add to their faith, Jesus response must be related to the size of their faith – which is what the NRSV English translation suggests. “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” The Greek however says nothing about the size of a mustard seed. A literal translation of the sentence is: “If you had faith as a mustard seed.” Our translators have replaced “as” with “the size of” probably because the idea of a mustard seed having faith presents its own difficulties!

Finally, the fact that the author of the gospel has paired Jesus’ saying about the mustard with the example of the master and slave, suggests that his intention was that we read the two sayings together. Jesus’ example is image from everyday life with which Luke’s readers would have been familiar. In the highly structured culture of the first century, each person fulfilled their assigned role with no expectation that they would be singled out for praise simply for doing what they were meant to do. This interpretation is further strengthened when our attention is drawn to another translation issue.

The final line of Jesus’ example is translated as: “So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’” Behind this assumption is the view that slaves would be self-deprecating, or worse that the early Christians (whom we assume to be the slaves) think of themselves as having little value in God’s (the master’s) eyes. We see Jesus’ example quite differently when it is pointed out that the word translated as “worthless” is actually the negative of the word “need”. The sentence could just as easily read: “we are slaves without need.” In other words, the slaves do not need to be thanked for carrying out their role because fulfilling their role is sufficient reward.

In the light of these three points – context, translation, and pairing – it becomes clear that Jesus is not childing the disciples for their lack of faith, rather he is chastising
them for imagining that faith is a commodity – something that can be owned, measured and used. A mustard seed has no choice except to fulfill the purpose for which it was created. A slave has little choice but to do what their master requires. Jesus seems to be encouraging the disciples to be satisfied with fulfilling the purpose for which they were created and with living out their God-given vocation.

He might just as well be saying: “Get over yourselves! Faith is not something to possess but a state of being – in relationship with God and in relationship with others. Be happy with who you are. Live out your vocation faithfully. Trust God to work in and through you and get on with living.”

Jesus says: “Have faith as a mustard seed.” “Be content with the person that you were created to be.”
Our response might be: “We are slaves without need.” “We will live our lives faithfully, allowing ourselves to be used for God’s purpose rather than striving to be what we are not.”

No wriggle room – Supporting systemic injustice

September 24, 2022

Pentecost 16 – 2022

Luke 16:19-31

Marian Free

In the name of God who gives some of us more than we deserve or desire.  Amen.

 I am not an economist, but it is clear to me that the world economy has vastly changed over the course of my lifetime. Small, local businesses have been overtaken by huge multi-national companies which, by all accounts, care more about the profit margin than they do about those workers who produce the profits. They are more interested in the return that they can give to their shareholders and the enormous salaries that they can offer their executives than about the workers upon whom they depend for their income.

While huge (even obscene) bonuses are given to those at the top of the corporate ladder, and healthy dividends are given to shareholders, those who generate the income rarely see any benefits from their contribution to the revenue. Global corporations are sometimes so profit-driven that their employees endure terrible (often dangerous) conditions in order that their company might reap the reward and that others might wear cheap clothing and their need for on-line shopping might be satisfied.

Today, few executives – even if they do live in the same country as their employees – would not know them by name, let alone know anything about their families or living conditions. We are far removed from the days of small businesses in which the boss knew those who worked for him (her) and who, when times were good, would share the results with those upon whom the business relied, and who, when labour was in short supply, would offer higher wages to attract staff.

While many of us may lament the current situation of globalisation and the emphasis on profit over care (for the labourer, the environment, or indeed anything beyond the desire to increase the corporation’s income), we find ourselves complicit in a system in which the majority support the lifestyle of a few. We are happy to pay less for consumer goods produced by vulnerable, underpaid people in third world countries and to indirectly support global corporations who meet our need for convenient on-line shopping. Many of us, particularly those of us who are now retired, are dependent on our investments (personal or through superannuation funds) for an income and are therefore reluctant to act in such a way that would result in a lower standard of living for ourselves.

So, if ever there was a parable that hit you straight between the eyes it would be the one retold in this morning’s gospel – the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. Nowhere else does Jesus speak so directly about the afterlife or about the consequences of our lifestyle in the present. As we listen/read to the description of the place in which the rich man and Lazarus find themselves, we are filled with a level of dis-ease. We feel ourselves condemned along with the rich man, and realise that if, like the rich man we find ourselves on the wrong side of the chasm, there is no escape, no way to cross to the other side and no means to get any relief from our suffering.

Our discomfort can mean that our immediate reaction to the parable is to distance ourselves, to look for a way out. We reassure ourselves that we are not like the rich man. For starters, we are nowhere near as rich, and we are generous with what we have – donating to charities that support the poor and homeless and paying our taxes so that the government can make social welfare payments and build housing. We comfort ourselves with the knowledge that the image of Hades presented here is unique and does not match other images of the afterlife. (Of course, we expect to be judged, but to be honest most of us are confident that God’s mercy will see us spend eternity in a place of peace and light, where our every need is met and in which we need not even think about there being an alternate destiny (let alone have such a place within our field of vision)).

What is striking, and what causes the best of us to squirm, is the implication in the parable that our eternal fate depends not on whether we are “good” or “bad” in conventional terms but on our relative wealth. Jesus is deliberately sparse on detail. Indeed, we know nothing about the two men except that one is fabulously rich and the other so desperately poor that he would settle for crumbs that fall from the table. It is our imagination that makes the rich man callous and thoughtless, but his crime seems to be only that he is fabulously rich. As far as we know, he may well have been law-abiding and generous – paying the Temple tax, supporting widows and orphans, and insisting that anyone who came to his door be fed and clothed. Likewise, there is no evidence that Lazarus is “good”. The parable leaves open the possibility that he is not, that he brought his poverty on himself – through loose living, being caught out stealing, or by over-imbibing in alcohol.

Our imaginations see the rich man going in and out of his gate and ignoring Lazarus’ suffering, but again there is nothing in the parable to suggest that the rich man even notices Lazarus. (Equally, there is nothing to suggest that he doesn’t see and doesn’t offer some relief – however small.) Whatever the rich man does or doesn’t do or see in regard to Lazarus, what is clear is that he does nothing to address the situation that allows him to be so rich and Lazarus so poor.

According to the parable, what matters is that the rich man had received good things during his life and Lazarus had received evil things (16:25). In Hades the situation is reversed and just as there was a chasm between the two in life, so there is in death. It was not their behaviour (good or bad) in life that determined their fate but their collusion (or not) in the systemic inequities that resulted in some people living in relative comfort while others existed in dire poverty. The situation is possibly exacerbated by the rich man’s inability to recognise that his lifestyle (not to mention his apathy, greed and selfishness) contributed to and reinforced the differences between himself and Lazarus.

In the end, the parable suggests, there is no wriggle room.  We might have worked hard for what we have, lived a good and righteous life and have been generous with this world’s goods, but if, at the end of the day we have failed to recognise that the system has benefitted us and disadvantaged others, and, if we have done nothing to rectify that state of affairs, we will be found wanting.

The solution begins by seeing – seeing the poor at our gate, identifying the ways in which we support a system which puts (and keeps) them there and doing what we can to build a more just and equitable world.

Commending shrewdness

September 15, 2022

Pentecost 15 – 2022
Luke 16:1-13
Marian Free

In the name of God who asks us to attend to the future with as much care as we attend to the present. Amen.

Then Jesus said to the disciples, “There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was squandering his property. 2 So he summoned him and said to him, ‘What is this that I hear about you? Give me an accounting of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.’ 3 Then the manager said to himself, ‘What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. 4 I have decided what to do so that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.’ 5 So, summoning his master’s debtors one by one, he asked the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’ 6 He answered, ‘A hundred jugs of olive oil.’ He said to him, ‘Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.’ 7 Then he asked another, ‘And how much do you owe?’ He replied, ‘A hundred containers of wheat.’ He said to him, ‘Take your bill and make it eighty.’ 8 And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly; for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. 9 And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes. (NRSV)

I think that it was six years ago that a friend and parishioner developed a drama based on the gospel of the shrewd manager and an article by a student Jeffrey Durkin . The drama made such good sense of what many find to be a difficult parable that there was an audible intake of breath from the congregation and a sermon on the topic was really unnecessary. For those who are interested I have reproduced the drama below.

Durkin’s article was so compelling that I am going to have another attempt to help you to make sense of a parable in which Jesus appears to be commending dishonest and which to be fair, most reasonable people take offense at – wondering what it is doing in scriptures.

Before we begin there are a number of important principles that we have to accept.

Jesus was speaking to a culture removed in time and place from our own. People in first century Palestine operated according to different values and their lives were seriously impacted by the fact that they had existed under foreign occupation. The rural economy in which land had passed from father to son for generations had been disrupted by Caesar’s practice of giving grants of land to returning soldiers. Not only were farmers displaced but the landowners rarely took up residence on their land, choosing to live somewhere more attractive and to appoint managers/stewards to administer their estates. Such managers (some of whom were slaves) acted on the owner’s behalf. A manager made decisions about the day-to-day running of the property and was able to make decisions about the expenditure of money and the offering loans as well as about the incurring and forgiveness of debts. Much as is the case in large landholdings today – the manager had the same authority as the owner.

A central cultural value of the time (and still in parts of the Middle East today) was that of honour/shame. A person’s honour determined their place in society, was easily lost and was more valuable than money, land or possessions. Unlike those who today have the luxury of planning for distant events, those in Jesus’ time were more likely to act out of current desires than in pursuit of a long-term goal.

Both of these issues come into play when trying to come to grips with today’s parable.
An understanding of biblical criticism is also essential in making sense of today’s parable. Jesus’ teachings circulated as oral tradition for some 40-50 years after Jesus’ death. During that time they were applied to new situations and retold from memory. The gospels were written after the fall of Jerusalem in 70 CE at a time when first generation of Jesus’ followers had died and it was felt that it was important to record what he said before there was too much variation. The gospels that made it into what we know as the New Testament were not written dispassionately, with an emphasis on accuracy. They were written with a specific intent (which explains the differences between them). There is evidence of editorial content – especially when it comes to the arrangement of material.

It is important to take all these things into consideration particularly when we are trying to come to terms with teaching that doesn’t immediately make sense. It is also essential to let go of our preconceived ideas and our inherited ways of understanding so that we can see the scriptures with new eyes.

With regard to the parable of the Unjust Steward (only recorded by Luke) the first thing to do is to try to determine what might be original to Jesus and what might be attributed to the editor. Scholars agree that the parable proper consists of verses 1-8a and that v8b introduces a sermon on what might be an unrelated topic, “the sons of this world” and the “sons of light” . Furthermore, the relevance of verses 10-13 in relation to the parable is obscure at best. In considering the parable then, we will look only at 1-8a.

That is a lot of background but given the difficulty that most people have with this parable, it does give us some context against which to understand it.

In the first verse Jesus introduces the characters – a rich man and a steward. It is important to note that we are told nothing about the steward’s character or previous behaviour, only that a report has been brought to the landowner alleging that he is squandering his master’s property. A first century audience would immediately know that whether or not the steward was innocent the reputation (honour) of the landowner would have already been compromised – at least one person believed that he had allowed himself to be defrauded and may already have insinuated as much to other members of the community. They would also know that in that situation the steward would have no means of self-defence – no third party to make a decision on the matter.

Interestingly, though the landowner asks the steward for an accounting of his management, it appears that he fires him without any reference to the financial record. Also important is that though he fires the steward, he inflicts no punishment (something which may be intended to tell us something about the generosity of the landowner and which will make more sense of the conclusion).

What follows (v2,3) is an interior dialogue as the steward considers what to do . Once again honour (as well as age) is a contributing factor in his decision. Then the manager announces that he has made a decision – he will place other people in his debt by reducing the value of their debts (v4, which he does in verses 5-7)! Though his master (who is already rich) might lose some income, his honour – the far more important commodity – will not only have been restored it will have been enhanced! So, we see that it is for this reason that the landowner commends the steward for his shrewdness – the steward’s actions have increased the landowner’s status in the eyes of the community. At this point the generous and forgiving nature of the landowner are called to mind – the steward is not reinstated but is praised for taking action to secure his future (contrary to the cultural norm of being concerned only with the present.)

Durkin summarises the situation in this way: “a master has a steward who has wasted his possessions and dishonored him. The master dismisses the steward, creating a crisis for the steward, but he does not punish him. The steward hatches a risky plan to take advantage of his master’s forgiving nature and to secure his own future. By reducing the amounts of the debts owed his master, he creates goodwill in the community for both himself and his master. The master praises the steward for his purposeful action in the securing of his own future.”

Jesus tells parables to upend our way of thinking and to challenge well-held views. Of all the parables this is perhaps the most confronting, which means that if it does its job, it shakes us into reconsidering our lives. The parable is not about management, honesty dishonestly, rather it is about futureproofing.

We are challenged to consider whether we spend so much time securing our comfort in this life that we pay no attention to preparing for the next? Are we so concerned with the present that we have taken our eyes off the future, or like the steward, are we shrewd enough to recognise that securing our comfort for eternity might take some forward planning?

Drama for Luke 16 by Juliet Quinlan

The characters: Mr/Mrs Rich (R), owner of a chain of stores; (K) Kath/Kevin, supervisor of one of R’s stores.

Part 1

R: Good morning K. Please sit down.

K: Good morning.

(Both sit down – two chairs facing each other.)

R: I’ll get straight to the point, K. This is the third time in three months I’ve had to call you in to my office to tell you that your performance isn’t what I’d expect from one of my store supervisors. There have been complaints from customers that you’re offhand with them, you’ve closed early on several occasions, the takings from your store are down…

K: (Shrugs) I’m sorry, I promise I’ll do better.

R: No, K, that’s not good enough. I’m very reluctant to do this, but I’m going to have to let you go. I’m losing money, and even worse, my reputation is being squandered. I’m willing to give you a month’s notice, but please try to leave the store in good shape. (Both stand up. R shakes K’s hand, looks sympathetic).

(K and R both exit.)

Part two

(K sits alone OR addresses the congregation.)

K: What am I going to do? I know I haven’t been efficient like I used to be. I’ve just got so bored with this place, that’s the problem. My heart hasn’t been in it. But how can I live now? I don’t want to be on the dole for the rest of my life. I need some inspiration…(Frowns, shakes head, looks anguished. Then straightens up, eyes wide open): OK, I’m beginning to get an idea…

Part three

(R beckons K into the office again. They remain standing.)

R: So this is your last day, K. I wonder why you’re looking so happy.

K: Oh well…

R: I think I know why you’re pleased with yourself. The accountant picked up an anomaly for this store. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?

(K shrugs shoulders)

R: For the last month the cash you’ve banked has been around half the amount the cash register says it should be. Can you explain how this could have happened?

K: I took the money.

R: So you thought it’d be smart to give yourself a bonus, did you?

K: No, I gave it all to charity.

R: Why? What was the point of that?

K: I told the Coordinator of my favourite charity that you wanted to make a large donation, and made an appointment to hand it over. We got talking and I told her how I’d love to help, and some ideas I have, and now they’ve agreed for me to work for them as a volunteer. Perhaps I might get paid work there eventually. And it’s something I’ll really like doing, something fulfilling for the rest of my life…

R: But it was my money.

K: Well you’ve sometimes said money isn’t everything, that your main goal is to make your customers happy. I know how concerned you are about the company’s public image and I’ve heard you give quite a lot away yourself.

R (stops, thinks, then starts to laugh): Well, I must say I’m amazed. You’ve been really clever. You’ve made me look good in the eyes of your charity, and made a positive plan for your future. Good luck to you! (Smiles, claps K on the shoulder, shakes hands). Off you go. And I hope the future gives you all that you hope for.

(Both exit)

Searching for the lost

September 9, 2022

Pentecost 14 – 2022
Luke 15:1-10 (Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28)
Marian Free

In the name of God who searches for the lost and brings them safely home. Amen.

I have often said that I am not sure what lies behind the thinking of the compilers of our lectionary. When read out of context, passages such as those from Jeremiah this morning, make little sense. One wonders about the relevance of the words of a prophet, spoken to a faithless people, apply to us today. Certainly, in view of the current climate crisis, we could argue that the water crisis in many parts of the world is God’s punishment for the world’s turning away from God. The problem with that argument is not only that we are appropriating the prophet’s words for our own purposes, but worse is the implication that follows – that (for example) those forced to flee their homes to refugee camps in northern Syria, and who are now facing water insecurity, brought the situation on themselves.

If one reads: “I looked, and lo, the fruitful land was a desert, and all its cities were laid in ruins before the LORD, before his fierce anger” (Jer 4:26) and other such passages out of context, it is not difficult to understand why there are many Christians who find the Old Testament writings to be both disconcerting and discouraging. They find in its pages a vindicative, demanding and angry God – a God who is vastly different from the one that they experience in the pages of the New Testament – and so they abandon the Old Testament (and the riches it contains).

It is true that the writings of the prophets (as Jeremiah this morning) are often judgemental, bleak, and full of foreboding; but, despite this, many will tell you that the Old Testament is God’s love letter to God’s people.

To understand this concept, we need to understand that (despite the story of Abraham), establishing a faith in the one true God did not happen overnight. The Israelites (the children of Abraham) found themselves in the midst of nations who worshipped a multitude of gods and, it appears that it was sometimes difficult for the Israelites to hold fast to a God whom they could not see when their neighbours worshipped idols whom they could see and touch. (Among other things, this led to the creation of the golden calves when Moses, who was receiving the ten commandments from God, left the Israelites alone in the desert and the building of the ‘high places’ and worship of Baal in Israel.)

If we read the Old Testament in its entirety, instead of picking and choosing passages, we will see that over and over again, the Israelites abandon God and serve the gods of the surrounding nations. Over and over again God (through the prophets) expresses disappointment and warns them of the consequences of deserting the faith of their forbears. Over and over again God urges the people to return to God and promises to make them a new creation. And, over and over again, God reaches out in love to bring God’s people home. For example, were we to read further in Jeremiah we would find the beautiful words of reassurance in chapters 30 and 31: “I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you” (31:3).

Neglecting the Old Testament means that we never discover the image of God with which the book of Hosea concludes. After several chapters in which God expresses anger and frustration at a people who constantly chase after other gods, God seems to pull godself up, remembering that it was God who taught Ephraim (another word for Israel) to walk, God who lifted Israel to God’s cheek. Then follow these heartrending words of yearning:
“How can I give you up, Ephraim?
How can I hand you over, O Israel?
How can I make you like Admah?
How can I treat you like Zeboiim?
My heart recoils within me;
my compassion grows warm and tender.
9 I will not execute my fierce anger;
I will not again destroy Ephraim;
for I am God and no mortal,
the Holy One in your midst,
and I will not come in wrath”.(Hosea 11:8,9)

“My compassion grows warm and tender, and I will not come in wrath.”

A solid knowledge of the Old Testament reveals it to be a revelation of God’s love for God’s people. It is important that when we read the Old Testament, we read it in context, but more than that, we have to remember that it was foundational for Jesus’ image of God, that the God depicted in the Old Testament was the God whom Jesus knew. This means that when Jesus speaks of God, or the kingdom of God, he is informed by his faith, a faith rooted in the Old Testament ideas of God. Jesus knew the story of Israel and of God’s longing that Israel be restored to God. Jesus knew the shepherd/guide of Psalm 23; the God who, in verses omitted in today’s reading from Jeremiah says: “If you return to me and remove your abominations from me .. then the nations shall be blessed by him” (4:1,2); and the God of Isaiah who: “will feed his flock like a shepherd; gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep” (40:11). Jesus shares God’s compassion for and love of Israel and, while he too gets frustrated by hypocrisy and waywardness, Jesus shares God’s longing that the lost be found and restored to the people of Israel.

So, when Jesus tells the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin, he is saying no new thing, he is describing the actions of the God of his forbears – the God of Jeremiah, the God of Hosea – a God who never loses hope in God’s people, a God who, no matter how far God’s people stray, never abandons them and a God who continually seeks out the lost and brings them home.

How do we measure up?

September 2, 2022

Pentecost 13 – 2022
Luke 14:25-33
Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Earthmaker, Painbearer and Lifegiver. Amen.

Some time ago a friend of ours who is a clinical psychologist was an advisor to the reality TV show “Big Brother”. It was her responsibility to assess whether or not potential competitors would be psychologically able to cope with the rigors and demands of the competition. In other words, she had to assure the producers of the programme that potential candidates would be able to go the distance without experiencing any sort of psychological breakdown. The show depended on the resilience of the participants and not only did the producers want to protect their brand and to entertain their audiences, but they also had an ethical and moral responsibility to the successful entrants. I only watched a few episodes, but they were enough to persuade me that the psychological stresses faced in the “house” and the mind games that were played were enough to send the sanest person mad .

Jesus did not have the advantages of modern science to screen potential followers, but he did have some idea of the sorts of hurdles that they would encounter and therefore the personal characteristics that would be required for the journey they were undertaking. He knew that being a disciple would be challenging, uncomfortable and, in some cases, life threatening. For proof, he only needed to look at his own experience. His efforts to relieve the suffering of others and to share the good news of God’s love, were met with scepticism, censure, and downright opposition. Among other things, Jesus was criticised for healing on the Sabbath, for telling people that their sins were forgiven, and for allowing a woman to anoint him. The authorities were threatened by him and were constantly trying to discredit him. Not that Jesus made it easy for himself. He didn’t play it safe – he exposed the hypocrisy of the religious leaders and inverted their sense of the proper order of things, he ate with sinners and tax collectors and generally behaved in ways that flouted the religious and cultural norms his day.

For many, Jesus was not a comfortable person to be around, and, from the very beginning of his ministry, there were attempts on his life (Luke 4:28). It is little wonder that Jesus wanted to be sure of the commitment and the determination of those who expressed a desire to follow him.

In the passage from today’s gospel, it appears that Jesus recognised that in the crowd that followed him were those who were simply caught up in the excitement that surrounded him, those who were only interested in the miracles that he performed and those who were attracted by the fact that he was not afraid to confront the religious authorities. He was conscious that there were some among them who had the potential to discredit his movement by their weakness, their self-interest and their shallow understanding of his mission. Perhaps too, he wanted to protect those who would be unable to withstand the hardships that might come their way as a consequence of their being his disciples. So, he did his own, crude, form of screening.

In a manner that seems to our sensibilities to be abrupt and uncalled for, Jesus “turns on” the crowds who are following him, implies that they are not really committed to the cause and sets what seems to be impossible standards for them to prove their worth. “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” I mean, imagine it – it’s rather like me saying to you: “Don’t bother coming to church unless you are prepared to abandon everything else including those whom you love the most. In fact, don’t pretend to be a follower of Jesus unless you are prepared to die for him!”

It is confronting language and doesn’t fit the Jesus who heals the sick, seeks the lost and eats with sinners. Sure, there are times when Jesus is firm, even angry – but he reserves his disapproval for the self-righteous Pharisees and the self-protective priests. So why now does he turn on the crowds – those who are not connected with the establishment; those who have apparently already left their homes to follow him to Jerusalem? In other words – why does he seem to turn on us?

Jesus, it seems, wants to be sure that we can finish the journey in a time and place that is vastly different. Might we fall away because our expectations have not been met? Could we be accused of hypocrisy because our lives and our faith do not match up? Is there a possibility that disappointment and bitterness would lead us to disparage him and to discredit what he stands for.

Our lives are not in danger as a consequence of our faith, but that does not mean that life is entirely without its hurdles or that there will not be times that will test our trust in and our reliance on Jesus. Life can and will throw us all sorts of curved balls – the death of a child, the loss of our job, our health, or our home. Our reaction to events such as these will reveal whether we follow Jesus for the sense of security and comfort that our faith gives us – or whether we have completely abandoned ourselves to God and to God’s will for our lives. Those whose faith is based on a belief that God will take care of them and protect them from the dangers of this world, will be confused and hurt by trauma and loss. They will bear the wounds of perceived betrayal that may never heal, and their bitterness and anger will cause them to speak ill of God and of Christ. They did not understand what they were committing to.

Those who faith is deep and strong and who truly understand what they have signed up for, will grieve their loss and acknowledge their pain, but will hold fast to Jesus, knowing that he did not promise a pain-free life and understanding that faith alone will see them through their anguish.

If today’s gospel is a form of screening for discipleship – how do we measure up?

God has no favourites

August 27, 2022

Pentecost 12 – 2022
Luke 14:1, 7-14
Marian Free

In the name of God who has created us all and who has no favourites. Amen.

Imagine that your niece (or close friend) is being married. You receive your invitation to the wedding and the reception. When you arrive at the church you know just where to sit – on the bride’s side and, because you are close family, somewhere near the front. Similarly, at the reception you can confidently expect that the bridal party (sometimes including the parents of the couple) will occupy the top table. Then, depending on the layout of the room, you will be seated somewhere close. Distant relatives and friends will be placed on the tables furthest from the bride and groom. At least that is what the normal social protocol would dictate.

Now imagine a different scenario. You hear that your niece (friend) is to be married. The time for the invitations comes and goes and you do not receive an invitation. No doubt you are confused, distressed, and probably offended, but perhaps – you think – it is going to be a small wedding – immediate family only. Notwithstanding, you attend the ceremony intending to sit near the back, out of the way. Imagine your confusion when you arrive to discover that the church is full – not with family and friends – but with complete strangers, people who do not fit your nieces’ social profile at all. I imagine that your sense of self and of your place in the world would be seriously challenged!

At first glance the parable in today’s gospel seems to be pointing out the obvious. As it is now, so it was then – there are/were conventions that dictated where people would sit at a social event. In the first century, when public behaviour was governed by notions honour and shame a dinner guest would have been very careful not to presume to take a place of honour. Being moved to a lower place would have been utterly humiliating and would have seriously lessened one’s status in the community. Guests in that time would no more choose their places at the table than would wedding guests in our century. Jesus seems to be stating the obvious.

What this means, is that the parable is not as many preachers and readers assume, a lesson in humility. As in the first century so now, guests at a function expect that their host will have determined where they should sit, and they would not risk humiliation by placing themselves somewhere else. At first glance, then, the parable has nothing to tell us – no one would place themselves higher than their position – in society, in their family – would dictate. That said, we have to remember that the author states that “Jesus told a parable”, and that the purpose of a parable is to shock us or to force us into a different way of seeing. So, if this account of a banquet is not simply a piece of worldly wisdom, what is it?
The clue, I believe lies in the comment Jesus makes to his host after he tells the parable, and which makes up the second part of this morning’s reading. Taken together with the parable, Jesus’ comment makes it clear that Jesus is using an example from our earthly life and contrasting it with life in the kingdom. We might devise concentric circles of relationship and order people (family, friends, and strangers) according to our own categories – familial relationship, friendship, wealth, or prestige – but God makes no distinction. We might compete among ourselves for recognition or status, but no amount of striving – to be better, richer, or more important – will make any difference to the way in which God already sees us.

Jesus is making the point that not only is it a waste of time to try to elevate ourselves before God (to determine of our own accord that we are more deserving of God’s attention than others), but also that so doing will only result in disappointment – not to mention acute embarrassment – when we discover that at God’s table all are welcome and all are valued equally.

Unlike us, God has no favourites. We don’t have to compete for God’s attention. We don’t have to shine in order to gain God’s esteem. We don’t have to do anything to be treasured by God. All the places at God’s table have equal value.

Until we truly understand this and take it to heart, we will continue to feel that we have to stand out in some way, to be better than our peers, to be more holy or to do more good works than they. In our attempt to justify ourselves – to prove to ourselves and to others that we are worthy of God’s love – we end up judging others as more or less deserving than ourselves. We create hierarchies of relationship in the same way that we do when it comes to seating arrangements at a wedding. When we are unsure of our place in God’s love, we are anxious to devise ways of measuring our worth and we do that by comparing ourselves with others. Conversely, when we truly accept that we precious in God’s sight, we begin to understand that God does not choose between God’s children but loves us equally. When we are secure of our place in God’s heart, we understand that there is no need to compete and, as a consequence, we do not begrudge God’s love for others.

In the kingdom there is no hierarchy of achievement or status, there is no inner circle of people who are preferenced over others, no ‘socially appropriate’ people who are a better fit – only the children of God, all of whom belong, and all of whom have a place at the table.

I think the point that is being made in today’s parable and Jesus subsequent comment to his host is this. “Don’t confuse earthly conventions with kingdom values” – in fact, “do what you can to subvert human values and norms, so that our present existence begins to look more and more like God’s future.” There are no hierarchies in the kingdom and all regardless of status, wealth or virtue are welcomed without condition.
What do we need to do to make those kingdom values a reality in our present situation?

And who is a child of God?

August 20, 2022

Pentecost 11 – 2022
Luke 13:10-17
Marian Free

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

– ‘She was asking for it’, ‘What did she expect dressed like that?’ ‘Why was she walking alone at night?’ Victim blaming is endemic – especially in relation to women who are victims of crime. It is assumed that if certain conditions had been met (by the victim) they would not have been harmed, would not be living on the street, would not be a sex worker? Blaming the victim frees the perpetrator of abuse from any sense of culpability. The rapist excuses themselves: ‘I wouldn’t have done this – if you weren’t dressed like that, if you hadn’t wanted it, if you weren’t someone who slept around.’) The child abuser who says: ‘you must want this to let me do it’. Blaming the victim diminishes the likelihood that the victim will take things further and so the perpetrator is let off the hook, doesn’t have to face up to what they have done or to go before a court. Blaming the victim means that (at least until recent times) the burden of proof has been on the victim not the perpetrator.

As a society we have many ways of distancing ourselves from the sufferings of others; making their suffering/isolation/experience of abuse their fault – not ours, not the social structures, not the government of the day. If it is not our fault, we are free from any responsibility for their suffering and therefore from any need to take action. Victim-blaming reinforces the way things are and resists any attempt at change.

Today’s gospel is an unusual, apparently stand-alone story that occurs only in Luke’s gospel. It is a healing story that interrupts a series of sayings and parables and Jesus’ observations about the signs of the times. The setting, the time frame and therefore the audience changes. Whereas Jesus was outside, now he he is in a synagogue. Whereas he was addressing the crowds who had gathered in their thousands (12:21) now his audience is limited to only those who can fit in the synagogue. Previously we had no idea what day of the week it was, but now we are told that is a sabbath.

Despite that at first glance, the story of the bent over woman is deceptively simple – a woman who has been bent over for 18 years appears in the synagogue and Jesus heals her. A closer look though, reveals a number of important details. Jesus is teaching when the woman appears in the synagogue. He sees the woman, stops teaching, and calls her to him. He says: “Woman you are set free” and then he lays his hands on her. The woman responds by standing up straight and praising God.

Jesus sees the woman and sees her pain, her exclusion, and her diminished lifestyle. It doesn’t occur to him to wonder if she deserves to be healed. He doesn’t ask the causes of her condition – bad diet, accident, abuse. How she got here doesn’t matter to him. It is how she goes forward – healed, restored to her community, and freed to live a full and integrated life – that is of interest to him.

It is the reaction of the leader of the synagogue that is surprising – not that he is irritated (we are used to Jesus eliciting that sort of behaviour). As we might expect, the leader of the synagogue is outraged that Jesus should be ‘working’ on the Sabbath but, instead of directing his anger at Jesus, he engages in victim-blaming. It is the woman’s fault that Jesus has broken the law! Addressing everyone present the synagogue leader reminds them that there are six days on which work can be done, six other days on which they can seek out healing from Jesus. If they want to be healed, they should come on those days – not the Sabbath. In other words, he is saying don’t come to the synagogue on the Sabbath if you are seeking healing, comfort, or release. Don’t come to the synagogue if you want to be restored to the community, if you want to be declared a child of God!

Jesus sets the woman free, whereas the synagogue leader wants people to remain where they are – bound by their condition, bound by his interpretation of the law. Believing that he is upholding the law, the synagogue has lost sight of the law. Believing that he is confronting a challenge to God’s sovereignty, he is in fact denying God’s sovereignty.

So many things can weigh us down and there are so many ways in which culture and society can make us feel responsible for our situation, situations for which sometimes there really is no way out. Today, as in Jesus’ time, poor health, disability, race, poverty, gender diversity, same-sex attraction, childhood abuse, domestic violence, and much more, separate people from their peers, their communities and even from their churches.

Today’s gospel which “challenges all who have settled into narrow interpretations of Scripture or ungenerous theological positions – those who miss the heart of what it may mean to be a ‘new creation in Christ’ (2 Cor 5:17)” is timely. During the week, news broke that GAFCON has created a company which they have named the “Anglican Diocese of the Southern Cross.” There are many reasons for the action, but according to reports the decision is based primarily on their objection to the blessing of same-sex marriages . As the Rev’d Penny Jones wrote, this is another example of
“when queer Anglicans yet again being made to unjustly to feel shame and as though somehow this fracture is ‘their fault’” – a case of victim-blaming .

When we use scripture to enslave and weigh down any of God’s children, we have lost sight of the Jesus who came to set us free. When we oppress and exclude any of God’s children, we have lost sight of the Jesus who came to make us whole. When we hold fast to rules or tenets of faith in the belief that we are preserving the truth of the gospel, we align ourselves with the synagogue leader and demonstrate that we have lost sight of the Jesus who broke the rules and who came to turn everything upside down (healing on the Sabbath, re-interpreting scripture and challenging church practice).

I want to say to all my rainbow brothers and sisters, to all who feel bowed down and who feel that their wholeness is denied – Jesus sees you and if Jesus sees you it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. Stand tall, children of God.

I have come to bring fire

August 13, 2022

Pentecost 10 – 2022
Luke 12:49-56
Marian Free

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

The Australian tennis player Bernard Tomic is a controversial player whose matches have featured “epic displays of ranting, racquet-wrecking and trash-talking”. He has thrown tantrums over not having been provided with a white towel, tossed a tennis racquet at a ball boy, and even spat at spectator during a match. At Wimbledon recently he accused a judge of being “a snitch with no fans”. It is hard to know what leads to such outbursts. Is it that he feels under pressure to succeed having been a child prodigy. Could it be that he is frustrated that he is not playing as well as he knows that he can? Are his expectations of himself too high? Is is irritated by comments from the crowd or other distractions that he believes have put him off his game? Or is it as fellow-tennis player and four times Grand Slam winner Kim Cliijsters was reported as saying that: “He feels like he’s being disrespected”. Whatever the cause of his behaviour, it appears that in the moment his annoyance cannot be contained, and it spills out in what is sometimes a vicious attack. His anxiety or frustration builds to a point where he can take it no longer and the sense of injustice, inadequacy or whatever it is spills out into an attack.

One does not expect such outbursts from Jesus. Jesus (at least as we perceive him) is more measured, more in control of his emotions. Certainly, his teachings can be confrontational and challenging but, in general we hear him as encouraging and reassuring. After all, hasn’t he just told us that if God feeds the birds and clothes the grass of the field that God will surely feed and clothe us? When he does have outbursts they are not directly at us but at Pharisees and lawyers (“Woe to you Pharisees”). In our minds, those attacks are justified – after all aren’t the Pharisees hypocrites; aren’t they driven by the letter of the law rather than the intent of the law? They are the opposition. They represent the establishment which holds Jesus in suspicion, and which seeks to discredit him – not the disciples and the crowds who follow Jesus.

The only other instance in which Jesus loses his cool is when he discovers that the Temple is being used as a marketplace. He simply cannot countenance such disrespect for Judaism’s most holy place. Again, that makes perfect sense to us. Of course, he would be incensed by the traders and money changers plying their trade in what should be a place of worship!

It is all very well for Jesus to be angry with and frustrated by the teaching and behaviour of the Pharisees, the lawyers, the scribes, and the priests, but today his outburst is personal and, while not directly aimed at us, is certainly intended for us. Apparently without warning, Jesus launches into an expression of such frustration and exasperation that we cannot ignore it: “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!” “Do you think I came to bring peace to the earth? No!” This is explosive language, language that has us looking for shelter, a rock under which to hide. It is difficult, confronting and unexpected. This is not the Jesus we are used to.

Jesus, the Prince of Peace, the one whom the angels announced with promises of peace is now declaring that peace is the last thing on his mind! It is true that he has come to “bring good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives, the recovery of sight to the blind and to let the oppressed go free.” But that is not all that he has come to do. He sees only too clearly the complacency and self-satisfaction of the pious, the uneasy accommodation that the Jewish leaders have with the Roman colonisers, the neglect of the poor and the abandonment of the marginalised.

Jesus did not come into the world because everything was going well – just the reverse. He has come to put the world to rights – to wake people up to themselves, to expose an institution that had lost its way and to reveal the self-righteousness of the religious leaders. It was not his purpose to commend or to reassure the believers of his day. His task was to shake them to their core, to give them a wakeup call and to urge them to see how far they had strayed from the faith of their forbears.

The religious leaders are so entrenched in their ways, so complacent and self-serving that it will take nothing less than a cataclysmic event – a blazing fire – to bring them to their senses. The place of the church, its practices and observances, is so firmly established, so deeply entrenched in the community, so clearly associated with the God of Israel, that it and its community cannot help but be divided when some respond to Jesus and others hold fast to what they have always known.

We can imagine Jesus’ irritation, his impatience when his teaching falls on deaf ears, when no one but himself seems to be able to read the signs of the times and when those with the authority to effect change are so concerned to hold on to their own power that they seek to destroy anyone who threatens their position. It is little wonder that his frustration should come to a head and that he should let fly and tell it how it really is.

“I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!” “Do you think I came to bring peace to the earth? No!” Jesus’ words are jarring, harsh and confronting but they are apposite. If Jesus were to come today, nothing would have changed. There would be little to show for his life, death, and resurrection. By and large, the church and its members are indistinguishable from the communities in which it finds itself. It is concerned as much with its survival as it is with matters of equity and justice. There are divisions in the church that are apparently insurmountable. In Australia, fewer people than ever identify as Christians. We live in a world in which a few have much, and the majority have less than enough. It is enough to raise Jesus’ ire, to call forth his disappointment, his despair, and his frustration.

We need to take these words to heart, not to brush them off. We need to ask ourselves again – what sort of world do we want/does God want? And we need to allow ourselves to be tempered by fire so that all that is rotten in can be purged and so that we can be part of the solution – not the problem.