Change and disruption

November 13, 2021

 

Pentecost 25 – 2021

Mark 13:1-11

Marian Free

 

In the name of the God of our past, present and future. Amen.

Given that that the Bible was written by men in a patriarchal world, a world in which men and women had clearly defined roles and in which pregnancy and childbirth would have been entirely the province of women, it is extraordinary that there are more than a few occasions on which images of pregnancy, childbirth and mothering are used for God and for the journey of faith. Sometimes they are used to describe God’s intimate love and care. They evoke God’s promises – the barren woman will bear seven-fold (Is 54), God’s love – I took them up in my arms (Hos 11), God’s comfort – as a mother comforts her child, God’s compassion – can a mother forget her nursing child and God’s protection – I will be as a bear robbed of her cubs (2 Sam 17).

 

At other times, as today, the pain and the violence of childbirth is used to bring to mind the trauma and disruption that can precede change. This is exemplified in the Song of Hannah (echoed in the Song of Mary) that speaks of upheaval – the bows of the mighty are broken, the powerful are brought down, the poor are raised from the dust and the lowly are lifted up.

 

In our scene from this morning’s gospel the disciples were no doubt expecting Jesus to join them in their admiration of the Temple – after all it was the centre of their faith, the place in which sacrifices were offered to God and to which faithful Jews came for the major festivals of their faith. They must have been completely taken aback by Jesus’ response that not one stone would remain upon another. It would have been completely impossible for them to imagine that within decades of Jesus’ death a new expression of their ancient faith would have been brought to birth and that many of the things that they now considered sacred would not only have been destroyed but would have lost their meaning. How could they conceive that the anointed one, the one for whom they had waited for so long would be the cause of a deep rupture between all that they had known and the future that he was initiating?

 

 

Many of us like the disciples resist change. When everything is going smoothly it is difficult to imagine that there can be any benefit in letting of of the comfortable and familiar. Worse, as our reading suggests, change can be violent and destructive and there are times when the old must be destroyed to allow room for the new to emerge. It can be difficult to see new possibilities while the old structures and the old ways of doing things remain in place and it is often only with hindsight that we can see the benefits that accrued from what had appeared to be a catastrophic event. (Who, for example, would have imagined that a rag-tag bunch of foolish and non-comprehending disciples would have transformed not only their faith, but the whole world along with it? Who could have predicted that anything good could have come out of a pandemic? Yet a bunch of uneducated men and women spread the gospel to the world. And the pandemic has shown us how we can connect without being face-to-face.)

Today’s gospel is a timely reminder that nothing lasts for ever and that even the greatest of edifices can fall. It is also a caution against holding too tightly to the past and of failing to be open to the opportunities offered by the future. 

We are, all of us, on the threshold of change, myself to a future that is not yet fleshed out and you to the adventure of a new period of ministry. It will not be the sort of catastrophic change that our gospel refers to and it will be experienced differently by all of us. At the same time, the future is full of potential and I am confident that any trepidation that we might feel will be more than balanced by a sense of anticipation and excitement as to what that future might hold.

You will have forgotten the disruption that occurred when I (the first woman to have the cure of this Parish) burst on the scene and I am certain that you now take for granted the many changes that have occurred over the last 14 years. There will be a great many things that you will remember as always having been here, or always having been done in a particular way. That will not be true. This is not the Parish I came to 14 years ago. Stalwarts have gone to God and many new faces have joined us. New groups have formed and some have fallen by the wayside. There have been subtle changes to the way we do liturgy and there have been numerous physical changes to both the church and grounds and now we take it for granted that this is how it should be.

That doesn’t mean that this is how it should stay. In the past few weeks, I have become increasingly convinced that the Holy Spirit is present in the timing of this handover, that this is absolutely the right time for another person to take the Parish on the next stage of your journey and that God has wonderful things in store for all of us.

We, like the disciples, are on a journey of discovery, always on the move, always trying to be open to the Spirit and the will of God. No one knows where the road will take us, but we continually leave the past and present behind us to step out in faith, following Jesus, confident that we will  be asked to do more than we are capable of and that we will never be abandoned to face the journey alone.

 

May God bless us all in whatever lies ahead.

 

 

 

Sacrifice or example – the widow’s mite

November 6, 2021

Pentecost 24 – 2021
Mark 12:38-44
Marian Free

In the name of God who asks only that we love, with heart, soul, mind and strength. Amen.

Some time ago one of my friends read a book titled The Five Languages of Love. She found it utterly enlightening and somewhat liberating. She was frustrated that her husband, on his day off, would mow the lawn because she thought that if he loved her, he would want to spend the day doing things with her. What she hadn’t understood was that in his mind, mowing the lawn was his way of showing his love for her. Love is complex and sometimes complicated. Neediness or possessiveness are sometimes confused as love with devasting effects. On the other hand, selflessness may not be an expression of a healthy relationship. Love is best when it is freely given, out of a strong sense of self.

This morning’s gospel is one with which we are all very familiar. The widow and her two small coins make a good Sunday school lesson and provide excellent material for a sermon on stewardship. However, as we have been observing over the past few weeks, taking a superficial view of any one gospel story is to miss its real meaning. In this case the generosity of the widow is important, but the context of this account reveals that there is a lot more going on in today’s reading than a story of a widow giving two small coins to the Temple treasury.

A clue to deeper meaning of the story lies in the verses that immediately precede Jesus’ observation about the widow’s behaviour. Here, Jesus has launched an apparently unprovoked attack on the arrogance, social ambition, and avarice of scribes who abuse the poor – specifically the widows for whom they had a special duty of care and who were particularly vulnerable. “Beware of the (attention seeking) scribes,” Jesus says, “they are not who they appear to be.” It is specifically these scribes whom Jesus is condemning. A little earlier Jesus had cause to compliment another scribe with whom he had been engaged in debate as to which commandment was the greatest. Jesus’ asserted that the first commandment was: “‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’” To which the scribe responded: “You are right, Teacher; you have truly said that ‘he is one, and besides him there is no other’; and ‘to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the strength,’ is much more important than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices.” Jesus commends and affirms this scribe and tells him that he is not far from the kingdom of God.

There are scribes and there are scribes and apparently not all scribes are deserving of censure. The shallowness and worldliness of the status-seeking scribes is vastly different from the sincerity and wisdom of the questioning scribe who understood that love of God is the heart of the law and that that love is all-consuming; a love that demands all of one’s being, not just a part of it; a love that cannot be represented by the superficial offering of sacrifices in the Temple or by making a show with long prayers. Jesus’ scathing attack on the posturing of the scribes who devour the houses of widows (instead of providing for them as is demanded in the law) is brought into sharp relief by the widow who contributes her two small coins to the treasury.

Given the context, and the juxtaposition between the scribe who recognises love of God as the most important and those who seek status and recognition, it is possible to argue that the account of the widow is less about her self-sacrifice and more about her loving God with heart, soul, mind and strength. That this might be the case is supported by the Greek text. In the NRSV, the version of the Bible that we are use, we read that the woman gave “all that she had to live on”. This phrase translates the Greek word “βιος” or life (think biology). In other words, it is probably more accurate to say that, “she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, her whole life.”

When we make this pericope only about the widow’s sacrifice, we risk adding insult to injury by further disempowering her. Jesus makes it clear that she is in very straightened circumstances – a situation that may well have been caused by self-seeking scribes who had taken payment for legal services (though that was forbidden), or who had mismanaged her estate or who had taken advantage of her situation in other ways. Despite this it seems, the widow is still her own person, a person of faith and integrity, a person in control of her own destiny who can choose to give her whole life and who understands (as did the scribe who engaged Jesus in debate), that love of God – with heart, soul, mind and strength – the giving of one’s whole self, is of much greater value than any amount of “burnt offerings and sacrifices.”

The widow’s self-giving came from the heart and stood in stark contrast with the scribes whose focus was on appearances and with the wealthy who gave to the Temple what they could easily afford. Jesus’ compares the widow’s behaviour with that of the wealthy and of the scribes not to diminish or pity her nor to draw attention to her poverty, but to lift her up as an example of faith and faithfulness, as a model of one who knows exactly what it is to keep the first commandment and who does so willingly and whole-heartedly.

We are all called to love God with heart, soul, mind, and strength. Nothing less will do.

Turning the tables

October 30, 2021

Pentecost 23 – 2021

Mark 12:28-34

Marian Free

In the name of God who alone sees the contents of our hearts. Amen.

I have mixed feelings towards journalists – when they are simply sensationalist I cringe, but when they reveal important truths I applaud. Ever since the Watergate scandal was uncovered I have had the feeling that there is some unspoken competition to uncover deep secrets or to bring down someone of status. There are times when an interviewer relentlessly pursues an apparently preset line of questioning – even when the answer to a particular question has already been given. At other times a journalist seems to keep pressing an issue in the hope that the respondent will eventually say what they want them to say. On the other hand, I value the freedom of the press and the ability of investigative journalists to reveal uncomfortable truths and to expose corruption and vice. I am in awe of those who put their own lives in danger to ensure that the rest of us are informed and made aware of injustice, cruelty and despair. We all, but especially our elected representatives, those whom we have entrusted with our finances and those whose wealth gives them power, must be held accountable and we are all responsible for knowing what is going on in the world around us.

Of course, there is a skill to interviewing or to debate. It is something like a cat and mouse game – how long can one side hold out, will a weak point be exposed or will and admission be made that will expose the real story? When both sides are equally skilled the moment when one side comes out ahead can be magic. (For example when Richard Nixon admitted to ‘doing illegal things’ in a interview with David Frost).

Debate, as I said last week, is an important part of the Jewish tradition and it was one of the ways in which difficult matters of faith were worked out and through which the Jewish leaders tried to come to grips with who Jesus was. Beginning at 11:27 of Mark’s gospel, various members of the Jewish establishment engaged Jesus in debate. The chief priests, elders and scribes asked Jesus by what authority he was doing what he was doing. When Jesus turned the question back on them they sent the Pharisees and Herodians to trap him: “is it lawful to pay taxes to the Emperor or not?” they asked. Jesus showed them the image of the Emperor on a coin and responded that: “they should give to the Emperor what is the Emperor’s. Next the Sadducees asked Jesus a question about the resurrection – a convoluted story about a woman who married seven brothers in succession as each one died. The Sadducees, who do not believe in the resurrection, were wanting to demonstrate that a belief in the resurrection was absurd.

These challenges are live issues in the first century. Jesus has no formal power – from where does he get his authority. Everyone resents paying taxes to Rome – where does Jesus stand? There are a number of parties in first century Judaism – with which one does Jesus identify? All the questions have a different purpose on the surface – to discredit, to trap or to expose Jesus as belonging to one party or another – but all play the same role of trying to work out where Jesus fit in the Judaism of his day – was he a follower of John the Baptist? Where did he stand with regard to the Roman colonists? Was he a Pharisee or Sadducee?

Finally, a scribe who has observed the debates and has seen that Jesus answered well, approached. He does not appear to have a particular agenda but his question too strikes at the heart of what it means to be Jewish: “which commandment is first of all?” Jesus response is not entirely original. Others before him had linked love of God and love of neighbour (combining the first and second tablets of the law). None-the-less the scribe approves Jesus’ answer.

However as Jesus makes clear – the scribe is in no position to approve. In the same way that Jesus has turned the tables on the first three sets of protagonists so now he does so to the scribe. Jesus has no position or place in the existing structure – his authority, his legitimacy comes from God. He is the anointed one. He is God’s representative. He is the one who really determines who does and does not belong to the kingdom, so he rejects the scribes’ approval and instead legitimizes the scribe saying: “You are not far from the kingdom of God.”

“After that no one dared to ask him any question.”

Jesus make clear that he does not need to be authenticated by or approved by anyone. It is he who decides who is authentic or not, who determines what the truth is and is nothing is clear what is essential to faith and what is not.

For us – (especially those who teach and preach) -today’s gospel is a stark reminder of where true authority. No matter how well read we are or how spiritual we are, none of us are the final arbiters it comes to the truth. Ultimately only God knows the mind of God. The best that we can do is to confess that ‘God is one, and besides him there is no other’; and ‘to love God with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the strength,’ and ‘to love one’s neighbour as oneself,’ Maybe then Jesus will affirm that we are not far from the kingdom of God.

 

Just how blind are we?

October 23, 2021

Pentecost 22 – 2021
Mark 10:46-52
Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver. Amen.

Over the past few weeks, I have found myself wondering what is going on in the Marcan community and why the author of this gospel has felt the need to be so repetitive in chapters 8 through 10 of his gospel. With any luck you haven’t noticed, but I feel as though I have been saying the same thing over and over for the past five weeks. In this time, Jesus has, according to our gospel readings, announced his death and resurrection on no less than three occasions and on each of these occasions the disciples have wilfully or foolishly chosen to misunderstand his teaching. Peter rebuked Jesus, the disciples competed among each other to determine who was the greatest and James and John asked to sit at Jesus’ right hand and his left.

It seems that it is impossible for the disciple to believe that the one whom they have chosen to follow will not be triumphant – whether against the power of Rome or the power of evil. Despite everything that Jesus says – that those who follow him must take up their cross, that those who want to save their life must lose it, that whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all, and that the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve – the disciples seem to be blind to the implications of Jesus’ announcements and of the consequences of following one who will suffer and die.

Today’s gospel addresses this question of blindness. What appears on the surface to be a simple account of healing has, on closer examination, hidden depths. To fully understand the healing of Bartimaeus we must place it into its historical/cultural context as well as into its literary context.

Current scholarship believes that the gospel of Mark was written in about 70CE for a community who lived in rural Syria-Palestine. This being the case, the Marcan community would have recently been victims (or at least witnesses) of Vespasian’s brutal put down of the Northern revolt in 68CE. In the year 70 Jerusalem was razed to the ground, and the Temple – the centre of Jewish faith – destroyed. The impact of these events must have been profound. It is plausible that the community of faith were both confused and frightened. What sort of God would allow Jerusalem to be destroyed? Why did God not intervene and defeat the Romans instead of allowing them to destroy all that was holy?

Mark’s threefold repetition of Jesus’ announcement of his death makes sense against this background, as does the emphasis on servanthood and the instruction to take up one’s cross. In effect, Mark is reminding a community that is uncertain about their place in the world and anxious about their safety in the present and future that faith in a crucified Saviour turns everything upside down. It is not about triumphalism or success, but about submission and service. Following Jesus means being prepared to lose their lives in order to save them.

By the time Mark put pen to paper, Jesus had been dead for forty years and it is almost certain that any eyewitnesses to the events of his life and death were also dead. No doubt the community of faith had settled into some sort of comfortable existence – a comfort that has been shattered by recent events. It should come as no surprise to us that they needed a reminder of the origins of their faith and of the gruesome death that lay at its heart.

In literary terms, today’s gospel concludes a section of the gospel that began in chapter 8 with the healing of another blind man. The disciples’ blindness (or unwillingness to see what it means to follow Jesus) is framed accounts of blind men receiving their sight. Of significance is the difference between the two healing stories. In the first (8:22) the blind man does not see clearly after Jesus’ first attempt at healing. Initially he can see people, “but they look like trees, walking.” Jesus has to lay his hands on the man’s eyes for a second time before he can see clearly. In this morning’s account Jesus only has to say: “Your faith has made you well” for the man’s sight to be completely restored.

It would appear that Mark has structured his account of Jesus is such a way that he is able to confront the blindness and the misunderstanding of the community for whom he is writing. Their blindness is represented by their competitiveness, their striving for recognition or for positions of power and above all, by their failure to understand that following Jesus means both service and suffering. Forty years after Jesus’ death it seems that they need to be reminded of what it means to follow a crucified Saviour.

At the beginning of this section of the gospel Mark portrays the understanding of the disciples is as cloudy and indistinct as that of the blind man. The immediate healing of Bartimaeus at the conclusion of the segment appears to signify that Jesus has told the disciples all that they need to know and that the disciples should now be clear both about Jesus’ mission and about the roles that they must assume as his followers. In other words, over the course of this period of teaching Jesus has opened the eyes of the disciples to the reality of discipleship.

In what are challenging and confronting circumstances, the author of Mark’s gospel seems to be reminding his community that suffering, not victory, lies at the heart of their faith and that discipleship means following in the footsteps of Jesus, even to the point of death.

If I am right and Mark is writing to a specific group of people at a specific time in history, what does his gospel have to say to those of us who are so far removed from that time and place?

Our challenge is not that we are experiencing persecution and destruction, but rather that we comfortable and complacent.

I find myself wondering – How would the author of Mark speak to our situation? What misconceptions do we hold that he would have to address? What are the blind spots that he would feel that he had to call out?

Are our lives a witness to the fact that we follow one who put others first – to the extent that he gave his life for the world?

What would the author of Mark have to say to us – to me, to you?

Being childish or being as a child

October 16, 2021

Pentecost 21 – 2021

Mark 10:35-45

Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier. Amen.

 

Last weekend I was babysitting one of the grandchildren. His current fascination is “racetracks” and he has some very interesting ways of constructing them. In one iteration two chairs were pulled together so that ideally the cars could gather enough speed travelling down the arm of one chair that they could jump the gap between the chairs and continue racing. Sadly, even with some firm card in between it didn’t really work. That however did not put a damper on the game – or should I say – competition. Each of us could choose a number of cars and the one who had the most cars over the line was the winner. I probably don’t need to tell you that: a) I always chose cars that I wasn’t meant to choose and b) that no matter where my car ended up there was some reason that I wasn’t the winner. The final score was something like 7 to 2 in my grandchild’s favour.

 

This of course is quite normal behaviour for a five-year-old. It is an important step in their development, a way in which they work out their own identity, their place in the world, and how they learn to feel safe and secure. Over time most children learn that it is OK if they don’t win all the time. Some, however, never learn and never develop a sense of their own worth that does not rely on being the best, being the centre of attention or being affirmed. Indeed, few of us truly grow up. Most of us spend our lives measuring ourselves against others – a state of being that is reinforced by the society in which we live – a society that values winning, that promotes being bigger and better and encourages the amassing of possessions.

 

As we have observed over the past few weeks, Jesus’ disciples fall into the category of those who have failed to fully grow up. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times Jesus tells them that competition, comparison and one-up-manship have no place in the kingdom, they don’t seem to get it. Jesus models inclusion and the disciples want to form a special in-crowd. Jesus speaks of giving his life for others and the disciples argue among themselves as to who is the greatest. Jesus talks about suffering and dying, and James and John ask to sit at his right hand and his left. Jesus says that those who want to be first must be last and still the disciples want to rule over others.

 

Jesus, the only one among us who could claim to be superior, divests himself of anything that could suggest power or a claim to being more important, more deserving than anyone else. We see this from the very beginning of his ministry. When he was tempted in the desert, he absolutely refused to be caught up in the power play in which the devil was trying to engage him. He doesn’t operate alone as if he is the only one through whom God works. One of his first actions is to choose disciples whom he endows with the same powers that he has, and then he sends them off on their own to teach and to cast out demons! For Jesus it was never about competition or about measuring himself against others but always about equipping and empowering others.

 

That the early church recognised this quality is evident in the Christ hymn of Philippians 2: “Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.  Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,

            who, though he was in the form of God,

                        did not regard equality with God

                        as something to be exploited,

            but emptied himself,

                        taking the form of a slave,

                        being born in human likeness.

            And being found in human form,

                        he humbled himself

                        and became obedient to the point of death—

                        even death on a cross.”

Even though Jesus was/is God, he didn’t presume on this to set himself apart from the rest of humanity, but fully immersed himself in the human condition. In so doing, he demonstrated that by divesting ourselves of all striving, of all attempts to be better than, smarter than others, we in fact become most truly ourselves and at the same time become most truly content.

Ever since Jesus first announced his death and resurrection the disciples have willfully or foolishly misunderstood the nature of discipleship. No matter how Jesus has worded his teaching – “take up your cross”, “be servant of all and slave of all”, “the first must be last,” “it is to such as these (referring to the lowest of the low) that the kingdom of God belongs”.  Can you imagine just how frustrated and disappointed Jesus must have been when James and John ask to be given seats at Jesus’ right and at his left? Jesus has told the disciples over and over and over again that discipleship was not about power and authority and yet James and John have still not understood. They believe that by hitching their wagon to Jesus that they will be able to stand out from the crowd, to be distinctive. It will not be until they have watched Jesus suffer and die (and rise again) that they will finally understand the true meaning of servant leadership and grasp what it means to lose their life to gain it. Before that they will continue to misunderstand to the point of betraying and abandoning him.

 

Unlike the disciples we have the advantage of the gospels and can learn from their mistakes, yet how many of us fall into the trap of fitting the cultural norms, how many of us express our discontent with who we are by competing with others and trying to prove ourselves, how many of us forget that our primary task is to fit ourselves for the kingdom of heaven?

 

If we want to know what it means to be disciples we need only read from Mark 8:27 and Jesus’ first prediction of his passion to learn that discipleship involves prioritizing others, caring for the vulnerable and being willing to give up everything that stands between ourselves and God.

 

The good news is that God doesn’t give up on us, that it doesn’t matter how slow we are or how foolish we are and that we have a life-time to try to do what it takes.

 

Complete surrender

October 9, 2021

Pentecost 20 – 2021
Mark 10:17-31
Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God – Earth-maker, Pain-bearer and Life-giver. Amen.

It has been a long time since I have had to do a comprehension test. So long that I’m not sure that I can accurately remember what they entailed. I do know that they were a component of my early primary school years and I imagine that they were an important aspect of my German lessons. From memory, a comprehension test involved reading a text (or having it read to me) and then being asked a number of questions to determine how well I had understood the passage.

How well would you do, do you think if I gave you a test on today’s gospel? To begin with, you might have to divide what is quite a complex text into its component parts – Jesus’ conversation with the man, Jesus’ teaching his disciples and Jesus’ response to Peter’s question. With regard to the first six verses, I might ask: What Jesus was doing? How did the man approach Jesus? What do we know about the man and what did he want from Jesus? How did Jesus respond and how did the meeting end?

There are a number of points of interest in this text. In the first instance Jesus was “setting out”. He was continuing on his journey when a man ran up and knelt before him? Kneeling is a strange thing to do as the man is not asking Jesus from Jesus. What is the reason for his urgency and why does he kneel, especially when he seems so confident in his own goodness and piety? Interestingly, Jesus rejects the expression “good” Teacher, reminding the man that only God is good. Then instead of listing the ten commandments Jesus mentions only six and does not include love of God or love of neighbour.

I find this one of the more poignant encounters in the gospels. We have to assume that the man’s question and his sense of urgency were genuine, but his confidence in himself could have been seen as arrogance. Was he simply hoping that Jesus would affirm his goodness and his piety? We don’t know. What we do know is that Jesus doesn’t censure the man for the interruption or for his lack of humility. Instead, he looks at him and loves him. Then he drops a bombshell: “you lack one thing, go, sell what you own and come follow me.”
According to Mark the man is shocked (or even appalled) by Jesus’ words. Jesus’ answer was certainly not what he was expecting. He believed, as did his contemporaries, that wealth signified God’s favour. The man presumably saw his possessions as an affirmation that he was keeping the commandments to God’s satisfaction. How could Jesus possibly ask him to give up the very thing that proved his worth in God’s eyes? It was a step too far but even so he went away grieving. He had not found what he sought.

There has been much debate as to whether or not discipleship entails giving up one’s possessions or not, but the central point of this passage is not wealth, rather it is our willingness to depend on and to trust in God. It is about whether we believe that our place in the Kingdom of God and our certainty of inheriting heaven depends on earthly values – wealth and status or on heavenly values. It is about whether we rely our own efforts to achieve the Kingdom or whether we graciously accept that Jesus has done all that needs to be done.

Ever since Jesus announced his death and resurrection he has had to correct misunderstandings about the nature of discipleship. Now he finds that he has to adjust expectations as to what is required to enter the kingdom of God. The two, of course are related. Jesus has been at pains to make it clear that discipleship involves sacrifice not exaltation, service not power, collaboration, not competition. Discipleship does not confer status or make one distinctive – just the opposite. In the same way the Kingdom of God is not characterised by social climbing, rivalry or competition. There is no hierarchy in heaven. We will not be spending eternity comparing ourselves to others so why would we believe that it is OK to do that in the present.

God does not have a hierarchy. We are not measured by how well we compare (or do not compare) with others but by how well we have learnt Jesus’ lesson of complete surrender. We are judged not by what we have, but by what we have been willing to forgo, not by what we have done, but by what we have graciously allowed God to do for us.

Status and wealth might define us in the present but, as Jesus has been at pains to point out over the past few weeks, they are irrelevant in the Kingdom of God. As the saying goes: you can’t take it with you – not wealth, not status – not anything that we cling to that we beleive gives our lives meaning and which distinguish us from those around us. Jesus is trying to make it clear by his teaching and by his example that, if we want to be part of the Kingdom – in the present, or for eternity, then we need to begin to live the kingdom values now. Not only will that prepare us for eternity, but it will radically change the present.

The man who approached Jesus was defined by his possessions – physical, earthly evidence of his worth and his goodness. He refused to believe that his life had value without them. He was unable to accept that there are no distinctions in heaven. He was so concerned for the present that he was unable to prepare himself for the future.

What about us? Are we preparing ourselves for eternity or allowing ourselves to be defined by earthly symbols, earthly values? If we cannot relinquish our symbols of worth in the present, what makes us think that we will be ready to relinquish them in order to enter heaven?

What do you cling to and can you begin to let it go?

Compassion before the law

October 2, 2021

Pentecost 19 – 2021
Mark 10:2-16
Marian Free

In the name of God who desires that we might have life and have it to the full. Amen.

Last weekend the Anglican Church of Southern Queensland met for its annual Synod. There will I hope, be a report from your Synod representatives but I did want to comment on a couple of motions that stood out for me. One was the motion regarding intimate partner violence. The motion called on the Synod to acknowledge the recent report of the General Synod Family Violence Working Group which revealed that there was a higher incidence of domestic violence among Anglicans than in the population as a whole. The motion requested the establishment of a Diocesan Family Violence Working Group to oversee the work of policy development, training and education on prevention, intervention, and response. Though some voiced concern that the statistics used in the report might not be accurate, there was overwhelming support for the motion. What stood out though was the amendment that suggested that if Synod was really serious about raising awareness about domestic violence and of finding ways to end it that we should fund a full-time position for someone to do the work. Motions that ask for money not already in the budget usually fail, but this one did not.

A second motion that caught my attention and that caused some controversy was one that encouraged our Synod to take responsibility for the document Faithfulness in Service – the code of conduct for all clergy, office bearers and volunteers in the Diocese. A significant number of Synod members argued against the change. They were worried that this represented a movement away from the national standards and that if we passed it would be in direct contradiction to the recommendations of the Royal Commission that urged the church to have a consistent set of guidelines across the country. Even though a considerable number of other dioceses have already claimed the right to make changes in the document and even though The Chancellor, Justice Mullens pointed out that different states imposed different regulations that had to be followed, many Synod Representatives were still uncomfortable with the motion. It was only when Bishop Cameron spoke that the mood of Synod completely changed. His point was this: that if a national document insisted (for example) that divorcees not be permitted to hold office in our church, that in all probability a significant number of Synod representatives would have to stand down. He guessed, apparently correctly, that among those present there were more than a few people who fell into that category and that that might be something our Synod would have an opinion on. He was right and after his speech the motion passed.

Today’s gospel deals with divorce. The Pharisees were trying to catch Jesus out on a legal issue, in this instance the justification for divorce. This was a question on which they themselves could not agree. Deuteronomy 24:1 reads: “Suppose a man enters into marriage with a woman, but she does not please him because he finds something objectionable about her, and so he writes her a certificate of divorce, puts it in her hand, and sends her out of his house; she then leaves his house and goes off to become another man’s wife. Then suppose the second man dislikes her, writes her a bill of divorce, puts it in her hand, and sends her out of his house (or the second man who married her dies); her first husband, who sent her away, is not permitted to take her again to be his wife after she has been defiled.”. The passage doesn’t mention adultery, but Shammai and his disciples argued that the only grounds on which a man could divorce his wife was adultery. Hillel and his followers took Deuteronomy more literally and claimed that a wife could be divorced for anything that annoyed or embarrassed her husband.

It must be remembered that women in the first century had no legal status, no means of earning an income and were completely dependent on their husband. A woman who was divorced would (unless their father was alive) or a brother took her in have no means of support and would be forced to beg to survive.

Jesus will not be drawn into the argument of the Pharisees. Instead, he points to a completely different verse – Genesis 2:24 – in marriage a man and a woman become one flesh. The only reason for divorce, Jesus suggests is adultery. In responding to the question of the Pharisees, Jesus is less concerned with quibbling over the fine details of the law and more concerned with the protection of the vulnerable. Compassion, in Jesus’ worldview, always comes before the rigid enforcement of one law or another.

That the discussion on divorce has to do with concern for and the protection of the vulnerable becomes clear when we place it in its literary context. The reference to children with which today’s reading concludes takes us back to the mention of children in the gospel of two weeks ago. On that occasion Jesus challenged his bickering disciples by placing a child in their midst and insisting that they welcome the vulnerable, the least worthy and those who would diminish rather than enhance their status. Last week, we saw that Jesus continued this theme by insisting that the disciples note that the consequence of causing harm to any one of “these little ones” was catastrophic.

If Jesus primary mandate for discipleship is to protect and welcome the vulnerable, then it could be argued that we (collectively) have failed miserably over the centuries. As we have learned to our shame, we have utterly failed to keep vulnerable children safe, we have perpetuated misinterpretations of scripture that have led to domestic violence, or which have kept people in unhappy marriages. We have abandoned or mistreated single mothers and judged those who don’t meet our standards. Contrary to Jesus’ example we have argued over details of the law rather than consider the plight of the poor, the marginalised and the dispossessed.

All this could be different. If like Jesus we put compassion first, we would not be so concerned about the meaning of the law but would always see the needs of those around us and be compelled to release them from their suffering.

Difficult and incoherent – Jesus on discipleship

September 25, 2021

Pentecost 18 – 2021
Mark 9:38-50
Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God who in Jesus gives us the perfect model of discipleship. Amen.

Millstones around one’s neck, cutting off one’s hands and feet, pulling out one’s eyes, entering life deformed rather than facing the fires of Gehenna – verses 42-48 of Mark chapter 9 are utterly confronting, even incomprehensible. In fact, the entirety of today’s reading is perhaps the most difficult of all to understand let alone to preach on. To quote C. Clifton Black “It contains things that drive the conscientious (of preachers) into a slough of despondence: exorcisms (38), multiple disturbances in the Greek text, footnoted in responsible English translations (vv 42,44,45, 46, 49) and hard sayings of Jesus (39-41) that are logically incoherent (48-50) or which are manifestly outrageous (42-47) .”

Thankfully, the passage makes a lot more sense and is a lot more coherent it we take a step back and read it in context – both from a literary point of view and from an historical/cultural perspective. The verses that we have read this morning follow directly on from last Sunday’s gospel which began with Jesus’ second prediction of his passion and resurrection, was followed by the disciples’ bickering about who was the greatest and concluded with Jesus’ visual parable about the nature of discipleship – Jesus “sat down and called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” 36 Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, 37 “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” The second saying in this pair illustrates and expands the first in that a child is an example of the “last of all.” In an aural culture, the two sayings would be further linked by the similar sounding Greek words παιδον for child and παις for servant.

This connection between the two parts of Jesus’ illustration warns us against romanticising Jesus’ use of a child to make his point. “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” Jesus says. Time has softened the offense of Jesus’ statement here. In the twenty first century we have a very different attitude towards children from that of Jesus’ time and place. In the first century, children, along with slaves, were on the lowest rung of society: they had no legal status, no agency and certainly no self-determination. A person would gain no social or economic gain from welcoming a child – in fact their reputation would be compromised rather than enhanced if they were to pay much heed to someone who had nothing to offer them in terms of honour and status. A child was not unlike the “the last of all and the servant of all” for “the servant of all” was, as the expression implies, at the very bottom of the social ladder. A servant or διακονος was someone who served the food and the servant of all would only be able to eat after everyone else had eaten enough to satisfy them.

Jesus is doing here what he does so well. By insisting that his disciples welcome children as they would welcome him Jesus is completely reversing the cultural norms of his day. He is teaching his disciples that they are not to seek (or expect) honour and status but are to be “servants of all” and are to welcome into their midst the lowest of the low, the most marginalised and the most vulnerable – those who not only cannot confer status, but who will, by their very presence lessen the disciples’ own position in society.

Today’s complex and difficult reading is a continuation of this theme – that discipleship does not confer power or set apart, but rather calls one to sacrifice one’s position in the world by immersing oneself in the lives of those who are most despised and who have the least to offer.

This is spelt out in a number of ways. First of all Jesus makes it clear that discipleship is not a special club consisting of the “in-crowd”, nor does it confer special powers and privileges on only a few. If therefore, the disciples notice someone casting out demons in Jesus’ name, they are not to stop them. Being a disciple does not give a person special privileges. The disciples should rejoice that others, however unconnected to Jesus, are able to exercise the powers that Jesus has bestowed on them.

Secondly, Jesus points out that with discipleship comes great responsibility. Not only are disciples expected to welcome the most vulnerable and the least worthy, they are also to note that the consequences of causing harm to anyone of “these little ones” are catastrophic. It would be better, Jesus says, to have a millstone placed around their neck and be cast into the sea! This means, he continues, that rather than risking harm to others, those things that might cause such harm should be dealt with in the most radical way possible and disposed of.

Finally, Jesus seems to sum up what he has been saying since he announced his death and resurrection for the second time. That is that discipleship involves sacrifice not exaltation, service not power, collaboration, not competition. For this he uses the image of salt which in the Old Testament is associated with sacrifice. When we see the passage as a whole we can see that we have come full-circle. What began with Jesus’ second announcement of his passion was followed by the disciples’ argument about who was the greatest. Jesus then confronted the disciples’ status-seeking behaviour by insisting that they become last of all, that they welcome those who can confer no status. He challenges their desire to be distinctive, by welcoming anyone who casts out demons in his name, he insists, that they cause harm to no one and that they, like him are willing to give everything – even their lives – for the sake of others.

Discipleship is so much more than simply living good lives. It is about following Jesus’ example, no matter what that might cost us in terms of respect, reputation, ambition. It means putting ourselves last and others first, and giving up everything for the privilege of following Jesus – who gave up everything for us.

Can we do better?

September 18, 2021

Pentecost 17 – 2021
Mark 9:30-37
Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Earth-Maker, Pain-Bearer and Life-Giver. Amen.

Several years ago, a medical conference was held in Hawaii to examine the multi-cultural aspects of effective treatment. Hawaii is apparently the most racially diverse place in the world and the hospital staff there were discovering that patients responded differently according to their backgrounds and their expectations. A story that has stayed with me from that report is the account of the death of one of their patients. The gentleman concerned was from Turkey. When he died his wife and daughter howled inconsolably – ululating loudly and swaying back and forth. Without thinking the staff tried to comfort the grieving women, to offer words of consolation that might help them in this moment of utter desolation. What they didn’t realise at the time was that their attempts were not only futile but were in fact both unwarranted and unwanted. Both mother and daughter were behaving in a way that for them was culturally appropriate. Loud and lengthy wailing was their way of coping with grief and in trying to calm them down the staff were in fact preventing them from doing what, to them, was the most helpful response to the situation.

At times when we feel uncomfortable, we behave in ways that lessen our own sense of unease without necessarily thinking about the impact our behaviour will have on others. When we hear bad news, a natural response is to try to find explanations for what is happening, as if understanding a calamity might mitigate its effect. In the face of danger, we may deny what is happening or try to imagine a positive outcome rather than face the horror of reality. If someone says something difficult or confronting, we may be tempted to change the subject so that we don’t have to deal with the issue at hand.

Certainly, the disciples respond in all these ways to Jesus’ announcement that he must suffer and die, before rising from the dead. Three times Jesus announces his impending arrest, suffering, death, and resurrection and three times the disciples respond in ways that demonstrate that they do not want (or simply cannot bear) to hear what he has to say. They are confused and frightened so they turn the conversation towards topics that they can understand and over which they have some control. Last week we heard that Peter was so upset by Jesus’ announcement that he rebuked (tried to silence) him. Today we learn that the disciples as a group turn the discussion to something very earthly – who is the greatest. Next week we will discover that James and John have completely blocked out what Jesus has said and have convinced themselves that Jesus really is the one who is going to reclaim the kingdom from the Romans and who can offer them positions of power commensurate to his own.

Each of these accounts follow a similar pattern: Jesus’ prediction, the disciple’s failure to understand and Jesus’ correction of their misunderstanding followed by an illustration of the meaning of discipleship. Jesus points out that instead of avoiding death, the disciples are to meet it front on. They are to take up their cross and follow him. Instead of competing as to who is the greatest, they are to put themselves last by placing the most vulnerable, the most marginalised ahead of themselves. Rather than seeing discipleship as an opportunity to “lord it over others” Jesus’ followers are reminded that they are not to be like the Gentiles but are to serve one another. In each instance Jesus turns the cultural expectations of his time on their head. He knows that it is natural to want to preserve one’s life, to establish one’s place in the pecking order and to seek recognition. For disciples though the opposite is expected.

Clearly Jesus’ teaching is difficult for the disciples to comprehend. They have yet to understand the nature of Jesus’ ministry and the consequences that will ensue. They want to prevent his death and they want to continue to believe that in following him they will share in his reflected glory. They cannot, at least for the moment, suspend their cultural expectations and allow themselves to be fully caught up in Jesus’ reversal of those attitudes.

So uncomprehending are the disciples that Jesus is forced to repeat himself three times in three different ways and still the disciples cannot grasp the implications of what he is saying – about himself and about what it means to follow him. It is not until they are faced with the reality of Jesus’ death and resurrection that they finally grasp what it means to be disciples – they are to take hold of life with both hands and with no fear of death, they are to broaden their concept of who is in and who is out such that no one is excluded and they are to lead, not by lording it over others, but through service to them. Discipleship may not, in fact probably won’t, lead to fame and fortune but it will at its best turn the world on its head.

As members of the institutional church, we too often find ourselves as part of the establishment, supporters of the status quo, bound by cultural norms. Since Constantine our bishops have had positions of status (and even power) in the community. For centuries the church (as institution) has engaged in more in self-preservation than in the protection of the vulnerable (as the child sex abuse reports reveal). Throughout the centuries there have many issues on which the Church has been more concerned with its reputation than with providing a welcome for the marginalised – the single mother, the divorced, the ex-prisoner, the druggie. Indeed, rather than embrace the outsider, the Church has at times been guilty of looking down on (and even excluding) those considered to be disreputable – those who threaten the sanctity of the church.

In other words, Jesus’ instructions on discipleship continue to fall on deaf ears.

Perhaps after all three times is not enough. Perhaps Jesus needs to repeat over and over and over again that he will suffer, die and rise and that we his disciples must take up our cross, welcome the vulnerable and marginalised and eschew power for servanthood.

Can we do better? I suspect that we can.

Joining the battle against evil (some thoughts)

September 10, 2021

Pentecost 16 – 2021
Mark 8:27-38
Marian Free

In the name of God who demands our complete commitment. Amen.

During the week I did some research for a short piece on William Tyndale. Tyndale lived in England in the 15-16th centuries in a time of great political and intellectual foment that was the Reformation. Few educated people could be unaware of the ideas that were coming out of Europe at that time -ideas that were considered seditious and dangerous because they threatened the authority of both church and state. At the same time scholars like Erasmus who had escaped the Ottoman invasion of Constantinople had brought with them to Europe and England copies of the Greek Bible. This made it possible to read the New Testament in its original language rather than in the Latin translation.

Educated at Oxford and Cambridge, Tyndale was by all accounts a person of great intellect. He was fluent in 8 languages including Greek and Hebrew. He became obsessed with translating the Bible into English from its original Greek and with making it available to the greatest as to the least so that everyone could read the Bible for themselves. When he read the Greek, Tyndale noticed that a number of errors had been made in the Latin translation – a translation that supported the theology of the the church and which served to keep the people in a state of fear for their immortal souls.

Tyndale’s enthusiasm for understanding the scriptures was to cost him his life, but every English translation since has relied heavily on his work. (In the King James’ Bible for example, more than 80% relies on Tyndale’s translation.

Translation is important. Only a small proportion of Christians are fluent in New Testament Greek and those who are not are entirely reliant on their work. The problem is that no matter how dispassionate the translator, translation always involves a certain amount of interpretation as the scholar tries to discern the intent of an author who is removed temporally, geographically, and culturally from their own time and place in history. Often there is no English word or phrase to exactly match the original and sometimes an interpretative decision has to be made by the translator. The situation is made worse by the fact that the original Greek was written in capital letters and without punctuation. This leaves it to the translator to decide where sentences begin and end and where commas, question marks and so on were intended.

Evidence of the difficulties faced by translators (and therefore by ourselves the readers) can be illustrated by today’s gospel. A reading of the Greek would suggest that this is the “Gospel’s most verbally abusive passage”. C. Clifton Black points out that three times Jesus or Peter tells the other to “shut up”. Unfortunately, perhaps to avoid offending our sensibilities, or to gloss over the obvious conflict, our translators have softened the language. Instead of “shut up”, the translators have used language like “sternly ordered”, and “rebuked”. Even then the force of the language is not entirely hidden. A reading of the gospel as a whole reveals that “rebuked” is the verb that is used to silence demons and to quell the gale. It is a word that is brought to bear when Jesus wants to assert his authority over the powers that oppose him.

What we have here then, is not a simple disagreement between Jesus and Peter. Nor is it merely a case of Peter’s misunderstanding. It is a battle between the forces of good and evil – Peter, as Jesus’ response indicates, representing Satan. Jesus, in this moment has to firmly and finally put down all opposition to his mission. He has to completely defy any attempts to make him (and his ministry) conform to any earthly expectations. He has to ensure that his disciples understand that to stand in his way, or to stand against him, is to do the work of Satan.

Both Jesus and Peter use confronting language for a confronting situation. For the first time, Peter is being forced to come to grips with who and what Jesus really is and what it means to follow him. Peter is being faced with the fact that Jesus’ mission will not end in triumph, but in apparent failure. It is not surprising that he reacts so strongly – Jesus’ negative thoughts must be dispelled! On the other hand, Jesus, who has already stood against the devil in the wilderness, knows his own strength and will not let even his closest friend dissuade him from his purpose.

Even in our translated versions of the gospel, this is a difficult passage. We do not expect such strong language from Jesus but perhaps now, more than ever, we need to hear Jesus’ rebuke of Peter. Society may be changing, but by and large the church still has a comfortable place within it. The cross has lost much of its offense. For many, following Jesus is as much about living “good lives” as it is about risking everything to confront the forces of evil that exist in the world – corruption, greed, selfishness etc. We are relatively content to go about our lives without facing the injustices that condemn others to poverty and despair. Today’s gospel challenges us to rethink what it means to follow Jesus.

Jesus’ rebuke of Peter is followed by his asking us his followers “to take up their cross and follow him”. Are we who claim to follow Jesus willing to risk our comfortable existence to do just that?