Who gets the water?

June 27, 2020

Pentecost 4 – 2020

Matthew 10:40-42

Marian Free

In the name of God who empowers us with the Holy Spirit to be Jesus’ presence in the world. Amen.

Matthew concludes his ‘missionary discourse’ with a rather confusing and apparently disconnected set of sayings. I have to confess that I have always found this passage difficult and disconcerting. Chapter 10 is primarily about Jesus’ sending out of the disciples, his instructions to them and his warnings as to what they might expect from the world. Suddenly, at the end of the chapter, it appears that Jesus is addressing a different audience: “Whoever” and he introduces prophets, righteous ones and little ones when he had been speaking about the disciples. 

For me, the confusion lies both in Jesus change of direction, and also in the way that the passage is usually interpreted. As the Collect for today suggests: “O God, your Son has taught us that those who give a cup of water in his name will not lose their reward: create in us generosity of heart, that we might share our bounty with others,” the last verse in particular is interpreted as an exhortation to extend generosity to others. Generosity towards others, particularly the poor can be interpreted as generosity towards Jesus (see for example, Harrington, 154)[1]. But that is not how the passage reads. If the four sayings are a whole, then the last verse, as the first, must relate to the disciples not to an undefined “little one”. The cup of water must be offered to a disciple, not to the poor.

If we take the sayings in order, it is clear that the first phrase “Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me” refers to the disciples (or to the twelve) – those whom Jesus has “sent out” at the beginning of this discourse. In the final line, the “whoever gives a cup a water” must refer to the “whoever” and of the first line and the “you” must be the same “you” of that line. In verse 40, the “whoever” is the party whom Jesus is now addressing and the “you” refers to the disciples. In other words, Jesus is referring to the generosity that people can and should offer to the disciples and not to what the disciples might or might not do for others! 

Mark uses the phrase about the cup of water in a completely different context, but he makes it very explicit that the disciples receive (not give) the water: “whoever gives you a cup of water to drink because you bear the name of Christ will by no means lose the reward.” (Mk 9:41). 

This is why I find the passage disconcerting. The usual direction of generosity is reversed. Instead of the disciples giving relief to others, they are the recipients of generosity. Further, these statements undermine our understanding that discipleship is about service. They suggest instead that discipleship is about being honoured, respected and served.

Puzzles such as this cause us to be grateful for the scholarship of others. Luz points out that first four sentences have the same form and that key words are repeated (up to six times as in the case of “received”)[2]. This makes it clear that that the last three verses elaborate on the “you” of the first verse. We know that Jesus has been addressing the disciples which tells us that they are the “you” about whom speaks. This means that the “prophets”, “the righteous ones” and “the little ones” all refer to the disciples whom Jesus has sent. The actions described are the actions that the “receivers”, the “welcomers”, and the “givers” do towards or for  the disciples – not the actions that the disciples themselves engage in. 

As the disciples are Jesus’ representatives, the way in which people respond to them is indicative of their response to Jesus. The way in which they respond to Jesus determines their response to God and their place in the kingdom (their reward).

Here the gospel writer (or Jesus) employs a Rabbinic principle: a person’s representative is like the person himself (sic). Receiving the representative is the same as receiving the person.  Further, both the person and his/her representative may share the same fate. This principle is particularly pronounced in the gospel of John – “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (Jn 14:9).  Jesus’ identification with God is replicated in the disciples’ representation of Jesus and Jesus’ fate is the fate that the disciples can expect. Perhaps more importantly, John’s gospel makes it very clear that judgement is not related to good or bad behaviour but is determined by a person’s response to Jesus (and therefore to Jesus’ disciples).

Here in Matthew, we have one of the few instances of a parallel with the fourth gospel. The one sent (the disciple) is to be seen as the representative of the one who sends (Jesus) and the treatment received by the one sent (disciple) is a reflection of the esteem in which the sender (Jesus) is held and of the relationship between the one receiving the message and the sender (Jesus). In other words, the way in which a person receives a disciple is indicative of their relationship with God. If the disciples are received as if they are Jesus, a prophet, a righteous person or a little one (a member of Matthew’s community (Mt 18)) the one who receives them, welcomes them or gives them sustenance is thereby demonstrating their positive (or negative) response to the gospel. A positive reaction to the disciples and to their message indicates a positive relationship with God and the “rewards” are the benefits (including eternal life) that devolve from that relationship. 

The primary point of the passage then, is not generosity – either towards the poor, or towards the disciples. The primary point of the passage is the reception (or not) of the message – spread first by Jesus and then by the disciples. The chapter begins with Jesus’ sending out of the disciples and concludes by alerting those to whom they take the message that they will be judged by how they receive it and how they react towards those who bring it. 


[1] Harrington, Daniel, J. S. J. The Gospel of Matthew. Collegeville, Minnesota: The Liturgical Press, 1991.

[2] Luz, Ulrich. Matthew 8-20. Minnesota: Fortress Press, 2001, 119f.

Graduation speech?

June 20, 2020

Pentecost 3 – 2020

Matthew 10:24-39

Marian Free

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

In 2015, the actor Robert de Niro addressed the graduands at the New York University Tisch School of the Arts Commencement ceremony. He began by saying: “Tisch graduates you made it and you’ve had it.[1]

The speech in full is available on Youtube. This is an excerpt.

“You’ve had it. The graduates from the College of Nursing, they all have jobs. The graduates from the College of Dentistry – fully employed. The Leonard Stern graduates of Business Studies, they’re covered. The School of Medicine graduates, each one will get a job.

Where does that leave you? Jealous? I doubt it. Those accountants they all had a choice. I suspect they used reason, logic and common sense to give them a career that would give them stability. Reason, logic and common sense at the Tisch School of Arts? – are you kidding me? But you didn’t have a choice did you. When it comes to the Arts common sense doesn’t come into it. You have a talent; a passion and you chose to pursue it.

“That’s not a bad place to start. Your place is clear – not easy, but clear. A new door is opening for you, a door to a lifetime of rejection. How do you cope? I hear that Valium and Vicodin block the pain, but you don’t want to block the pain too much – without the pain what would we talk about?” 

“Rejection may sting but my feeling is that very often it has nothing to do with you. You have to be true to yourself. I presume you didn’t pick this life because you thought it would be easy. Don’t be afraid to fail. Take chances, you have to be bold and go out there. You are not responsible for the whole project, only your part in it. You learn to trust each other and depend on each other, because you are all in this together.”

It would only take a little adaptation to turn de Niro’s words into Jesus’ graduation speech to his disciples. There are two major differences. One is that I am not entirely sure that the disciples chose their path. Sure, they have followed Jesus willingly – but he asked them, not the other way around. The second is that the Tisch graduates (judged by their wholehearted laughter) have some idea that the way ahead will not be easy – and may in fact be extraordinarily difficult.

Today’s gospel continues that begun last week – Jesus’ sending out of the disciples. Last week Jesus provided a list of instructions to the twelve – what not to take and where not to go. If these instructions weren’t daunting enough, Jesus continues by informing the disciples what they might expect. Up until now, I imagine, the disciples will have been caught up in the excitement and novelty of being followers of Jesus, with little to no thought that it might be dangerous or costly. Jesus teaching may have in parts been difficult, even harsh, but there has, up until now, been little hint that the path that they have chosen will lead to persecution or to the cross. 

And now – just before Jesus sends them out on their own – he spells out the consequences of following him. Graduates of the Tisch School of Arts might face unemployment and rejection. Disciples of Jesus can expect to be handed over to the authorities, betrayed by their own families and hated by all. They must even be prepared to lose their lives for Jesus’ sake. 

I can’t help wondering if the disciples realised that this was what they had signed up for. In fact, did they think that they had signed up for anything at all? And, even if the twelve had made a choice, if they had signed up for discipleship, did they really know what it entailed? Did they understand that one day Jesus would simply send them out (on their own) into a hostile world – a world of hatred and rejection, a world filled with violence and persecution, a world that would turn its back on them and which might even put them to death? I suspect that this was all news to them. 

At that point, I would not be surprised to discover that the disciples were frozen in fear, unable to go forwards or backwards. Our Arts graduates have their talent and their passion to fall back on. The disciples had no such resources. Only Matthew could be considered to have been a “man of the world”, someone who knew how cruel and unforgiving it could be. Thankfully, Jesus’ warnings are interspersed with assurances. Despite promising the disciples that he has come to set “a man against his father and a daughter against her mother” Jesus insists that they need not be afraid because their very association with him is the protection and strength that they will need. He may not be able to keep the disciples from harm, but he can assure them that when they are at a loss for something to say, the Spirit of the Father will speak through them. Their lives may be at risk, but Jesus can give them the affirmation that their lives are of such value that even the hairs of their head are all counted.  Jesus doesn’t promise that it will be easy, but he does promise that even if they lose their lives they will find them.

In the light of this passage, Jesus’ “graduation speech” we may all have to reconsider our understanding of discipleship. If we had thought that following Jesus comprised conformity to a code of behaviour and a peaceful coexistence with our fellow human beings, then – this passage tells us – we are very much mistaken. Jesus has come not to bring peace but a sword. His very presence was divisive and confrontational, and he expects that our presence will extract the same reaction. Where there is injustice, we are called to confront it. Where there is oppression, we are called to challenge it. When people are excluded, marginalised or stereotyped because of their race, religion, colour, gender or sexuality; we are called to stand for and with them whatever it may cost.

Disciples of Christ – you are done for! Wherever you go from here may be dangerous and frightening. It may cost you your family, your friends and your life! In the end, though, it does not depend entirely on you. You are not alone, and you are not “responsible for the whole project.” With other disciples of Christ, you are in this together and you are supported and upheld and given voice by the Spirit of the Father. 

The way ahead may not be easy, but in the end, would you have made any other choice?


[1] Not his word. He used a word that got attention, but which I didn’t feel I should repeat.

Taking Responsibility

June 13, 2020

Pentecost 2 – 2020

Matthew 9:35-10:8 

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls, equips and sends us into the world. Amen.

A number of you will have received and returned the Parish Survey – thank you. The Wardens wanted to get a sense of your expectations as we prepare to re-open the church for public worship. If you have completed the survey you will know that most of the questions are quite straightforward – where you are most comfortable worshipping, how you have found the isolation, what are you most looking forward to when you return and how you see St Augustine’s (what does it mean to you). I imagine that no one had difficulty with any of these questions and, from the answers we have received so far, it is clear that a majority of people have been reasonably happy with what we have been doing in the past and are keen to resume face-to-face worship in much the same way as it was before.

After answering the more general questions you might have been caught by surprise (as I confess, I was) when it came to the last statement on the survey: My vision for my spiritual future looks like:…. Most of the other questions were somewhat general and impersonal. They allowed us to place responsibility for the life of the Parish elsewhere: on the Parish Council or on the ministry team. But, as I read it, this last statement asked us to take responsibility for ourselves and for our own spiritual journey. “My vision for my spiritual journey.  The statement challenged us to reflect on our own spiritual health, to consider whether or not it will look any different in the future and, if we think it will look different, what we are going to have to do to make that future a reality. 

It is a quite confronting and even demanding statement, especially for traditional Anglicans who are not used to articulating their inner experiences or sharing their spiritual practices with others. It is a reminder too, that in the end it is we as individuals (not the Parish as a whole) who will have to answer to God for the way in which we have responded or not to the presence of God within us. As members of this Parish we may have to justify how we have or have not built the Kingdom of God in this place, but how we do that will depend in part on how we have responded to God’s call in us.

In the end how we move forward as a community depends not on the Ministry Team or the Parish Council, but on each one of us. Together we make up the congregation of St Augustine’s or of the Parishes of which we are a part. Our individual spiritual health contributes to the health of the congregation as a whole. Our commitment to grow in our faith and to develop good spiritual practices will in turn ensure the health of our Parish. The depth of our relationship with God and with each other will be a sign of hope in the wider community which will in turn draw others to faith.

Taking responsibility is at the heart of today’s gospel. Jesus sends the disciples out to do the very things that he has been doing: “preaching the good news, curing the sick, raising the dead, cleansing the lepers and casting out demons”. Jesus “sends them”. He doesn’t go with them to ensure that they get it right. He doesn’t give them explicit instructions as to what to do or what to say. In fact, he sends them out with very little – except their faith in him and his confidence in them. Jesus trusts his relationship with them and theirs with him. His mission and its future depends absolutely on his ability to trust the disciples to take responsibility for the healing, life-giving good news that he himself proclaimed. 

So, Jesus sends them out – on their own. He doesn’t go with the disciples and hold their hands. He doesn’t hand them a script and expect them to follow it word-for-word. He doesn’t give them a check list that they have to tick off. He doesn’t look over their shoulders to ensure that they are getting it right. Jesus simply sends them out believing that they are up to the task while he himself gets on with his own teaching and proclaiming. 

We know that the disciples were a mixed collection of foolish, ambitious, cautious (even cowardly) men yet Jesus has complete confidence that they are up to the task and the disciples, despite their human frailty, trusted Jesus (or the Holy Spirit that Jesus bestowed on them) to empower and lead them to complete the mission they had been given. 

So, it is with us. Jesus gives us the responsibility to trust that the Holy Spirit that each of us received at our baptism will lead, inspire, direct and encourage us to complete our mission – in our life as a community and in our individual spiritual lives. Jesus will not give us a detailed list of instructions or a specific road map of the way ahead. He won’t continually check up on us but will treat us as adults as people who have their own agency and their own free will to respond to his call on our lives and to carry out the mission to which he has assigned them.

It is somewhat unnerving I admit. The future is not clearly spelt out for us, it is not written down step by step. It will simply unfold as we continue to place our trust in Jesus and in Jesus’ trust in us. 

If you found the last statement in our survey confronting or challenging that is not necessarily surprising. Our spiritual future is something of an open book – one that is dependent in part on God’s plan for our lives, but one that will not come to fruition unless we continue to place our trust in God and to place our lives entirely in God’s hands. 

One God

June 6, 2020

Trinity Sunday – 2020
Matthew 28:16-20

Marian Free

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

There is a wonderful scene in a movie adaptation of Graham Greene’s novel The Power and the Glory. The story is set in Mexico in the 1930’s in a time when Catholicism was banned. An unorthodox priest and the socialist police officer who captures him forge an odd friendship and each in different ways is redeemed. One day over lunch the lieutenant challenges the priest to explain the Trinity. There are three bottles of wine in the basket and, from memory, the priest explains that the wine in the bottles is the same wine even though it is in different bottles. The next morning, when the priest awakes, he is overcome with guilt because the bottle he designated as the Holy Spirit was the one from which the two had drunk thus implying that the Spirit was somehow lesser.

Today we celebrate one of the key feast days of the Church – Trinity Sunday – and yet it is not announced with the colour of Pentecost, the excitement of Easter or the wonder of Christmas. How many of you are present today because you are fired up by the Trinity? Too often in fact the subject matter is skirted over, ignored, or, as my father used to bemoan, simplified to the point of heresy.

The problem is, that when it comes to the Trinity, most of us feel awkward and inarticulate, not up to the task of expressing what we are told (or what we know) to be true. Without necessarily understanding, some of us are able to intuit the threeness of the Godhead, others accept the idea that God is three and God is one because that is their faith, and others come up with poor analogies that don’t really do justice to the concept but in general most of us are aware that we can’t adequately put what we think and feel into words. This is distressing because the Trinitarian nature of the Christian God is what sets us apart from other religions and gives us the richness of understanding God as community. It is sad reflection on who we are because we assert that God is one and God is three and yet most of us find ourselves in a position where we simply cannot explain the Trinity to the curious or defend it against the sceptical.

In the last four years I have had the good fortune to stumble on two books that have helped me to really make sense of the Trinity. When I read The Divine Dance by Richard Rohr , I experienced a clarity that had eluded me until then. As the poem with which the book begins says in part:
“One is Alone
Self-Centred
Not love
Two is at best
Face-to Face
but never community
Three Face-to-Face-to-Face
Community,
love for the Other and for the Other’s love
A fourth is created
Ever-loved and loving” .
God as community invites each one of us to be a part of that community. Extraordinary as it seems, if God is community, we are included in the divine energy that is God.

This year I came across the book, The Trinity, how not to be a heretic by Professor Stephen Bullivant from St Mary’s University London. I highly recommend it . Bullivant expresses his grief that the Trinity, the central doctrine of the Christian faith, is one that no one (catechists, priests, pastors, Sunday School teachers, theology students, online evangelists) ever talks about. It is, he says, passed over in silence and ignored as something that Christians supposedly cannot, and are not meant to understand (loc 127).

Yet, “the doctrine of the Trinity did not arise out of speculation about God” or from “philosophical thinking” but rather “out of the effort to digest real historical experiences” (Joseph Ratzinger, quoted loc 383). In other words, the Trinity is a concept that tries to capture the fact that the early Christians experienced God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit and used the terms interchangeably and unselfconsciously, without in any way splitting God into three. For example, at Jesus’ baptism God and the Holy Spirit are also present. In the Gospel of John Jesus claims that anyone who has seen him has seen the Father, and that he (or the Father) will send the Spirit. In chapter 8 of Romans Paul refers to the Father, Lord (or Jesus) and the Holy Spirit in such a way that it is clear that he thinks of them as one and the same .

While the Trinity is a unique Christian doctrine, and while it is important that we should not read the Christian experience back into the Old Testament, it can be argued that the Old Testament revelation of God is not singular. Within the very first chapter, God refers to Godself in the plural: “Let us make humankind in our own image” (Gen 1:26). In chapter 18 of Genesis the Lord appears to Abraham in the form of three men, but Abraham addresses them in the singular, “My Lord”. In the Book of Proverbs Wisdom is both separate from God and yet is God and throughout the Old Testament there are references to the Spirit. God is experienced as Lord, as Wisdom and as Spirit without any hint that there are three Gods.

The Trinity then is not a complicated formula devised by theologians or philosophers in their ivory towers, but a word that sums up the lived experience of the early Christians, captures the ways in which God was known in the Old Testament and expresses our own intuition of who and what God is.

Bullivant suggests that the doctrine of the Trinity very simply boils down to three, core Christian convictions:
“1. There is only one God,
2. The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit is each God,
3. The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit are not the same.”

So, it is not that hard. When you are challenged, or when you want to share your faith in the Trinity you simply have to explain your experience which is corresponds with that of the early believers and which echoes the experience of the Old Testament writers – that is:
“1. There is only one God,
2. The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit is each God,
3. The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit are not the same.”

Have a wonderful Trinity Sunday and may the Trinity be the God whom you unselfconsciously and confidently know and proclaim.

 

Getting our attention

May 30, 2020

Pentecost – 2020
John 20:19-23
Marian Free

In the name of God who enlivens, empowers and equips us for ministry. Amen.

One of the things about Covid-19 is that is has got our attention. Globally and locally, most of us were caught by surprise. While some countries had plans (and resources) to cope with a pandemic, many among even the richest nations were not well-equipped to meet the demand of thousands of seriously ill people and an equally horrendous number of dead. In Australia, the lock-down not only helped us contain the virus, but it also bought the nation time to ensure that our hospitals and our medical teams were prepared and equipped to meet the worst-case scenario. Panic buying of such items as toilet paper demonstrated that as individuals and as families we too we were caught off-guard.

No one would wish such a situation on any community yet, as people reflect on the situation, some have wondered whether or not this was the shock that the world needed – to give the planet a rest from pollution or to reassess whether what we knew as “normal” is the model that we hope will emerge from this experience. Others are commenting that on a personal level the enforced isolation is making them re-think their priorities and to re-assess how they live.

I would not for one moment suggest that God sent the virus to make us sit up and take notice, but it is certainly the case that often it takes something unexpected and dramatic to get our attention and to force us to make long-needed changes in our lives.

In the case of the coming of the Holy Spirit God was very clearly trying to get the attention of the first disciples. Whether or not the event took place as John describes – on the day of resurrection; or whether, as Acts suggests, the Holy Spirit arrived on the Feast of Pentecost the disciples were caught unawares and their lives were turned upside down. In both instances frightened believers were gathered together in one place. According to John, Jesus miraculously appears even though the doors are locked. He says: “Peace be with you” before showing them his credentials (his hands and side) and then he breathes on them and says: “Receive the Holy Spirit, if you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” John doesn’t tell us how the disciples respond but given that there is a community to receive the written gospel some 40-50 years later, we must assume that the disciples were emboldened and empowered to share the gospel with others.

Luke’s account of the coming of the Holy Spirit is quite different but equally, if not more, dramatic. Again the disciples are gathered. Suddenly a sound like a violent wind filled the room and tongues of fire rested on each of them. Again we are left to guess how the disciples felt, but Luke’s account does tell us how they reacted. The scene changes from the room to the street and amazingly, what the disciples say can be understood by people from a multitude of nations. Peter, as the disciples’ representative not only addresses the crowd, but delivers a sermon that is sufficiently eloquent and powerful that many of the listeners (3,000) are baptized.

Of course, the sending of the Spirit is so much more than an attention-getting device. It is a completely transformative event in the lives of the disciples who are changed forever as a consequence. Not only are they pulled up short by the power of God’s Spirit in and among them, they are also changed – emboldened, empowered and enlivened.

According to Acts the disciples find the courage and the words to preach the gospel to strangers. Peter, at least, seems to have been given a knowledge of the biblical story from creation until now. The confusion and lack of understanding that characterized his discipleship have disappeared. Enlightened by the Holy Spirit, he finds that he has the wisdom to communicate with all manner of people in such a way as to bring them to faith. He and his fellow disciples learn too that God is blind to colour, race and religion. Peter preaches without prejudice to a crowd that has come to Jerusalem from all over the world and those who seek baptism are not refused regardless of background.

The consequences of John’s more subtle account of the giving of the Spirit are no less extraordinary. In giving the disciples the Spirit, Jesus is commissioning them for ministry – not it must be noted, ministry on his behalf but ministry in their own right. “As the Father sent me, so I send you.” Through the work of the disciples Jesus’ presence and mission in the world will be continued and at the heart of this mission will be the authority to forgive or retain sins.

In both accounts the disciples are transformed from followers to leaders and are equipped by the Spirt of God, the Holy Spirit, to proclaim the gospel – to open the eyes of the world to God’s loving reconciling presence. In Jesus’ absence they are to continue the work that he began.

What has happened in the succeeding centuries that we no longer have the confidence to share the gospel with those around us? Why is it that we find ourselves to be timid or inarticulate (or both). When did we as individuals and community lose confidence in God’s presence in us?

In these strange and uncertain times, many of us have the opportunity to reflect on our lives and on our faith. On this, the two thousand and twentieth anniversary of God’s sending of the Holy Spirit there are a number of questions that we could ask ourselves.

How does God get our attention? What does it take for us to take heed of the Spirit within? And what could we not achieve if only we trusted the power of the Spirit that has been given to us?

Getting our attention

May 30, 2020

Pentecost – 2020
John 20:19-23
Marian Free

In the name of God who enlivens, empowers and equips us for ministry. Amen.

One of the things about Covid-19 is that is has got our attention. Globally and locally, most of us were caught by surprise. While some countries had plans (and resources) to cope with a pandemic, many among even the richest nations were not well-equipped to meet the demand of thousands of seriously ill people and an equally horrendous number of dead. In Australia, the lock-down not only helped us contain the virus, but it also bought the nation time to ensure that our hospitals and our medical teams were prepared and equipped to meet a worse-case scenario. Panic buying of such items as toilet paper demonstrated that as individuals and as families we too we were caught off-guard.

No one would wish such a situation on any community yet, as people reflect on their experience, some have wondered whether or not the virus was the shock that the world needed – to give the planet a rest from pollution or to reassess whether what we knew as “normal” is the model that we hope will emerge when all this is over (or under control). Others are commenting that, on a personal level, the enforced isolation has made them re-think their priorities and to re-assess how they live.

I would not for one moment suggest that God sent the virus to make us sit up and take notice, but it is certainly the case that often it takes something unexpected and dramatic to get our attention and to force us to make long-needed changes in our lives.

Such seems to be the case of that first Pentecost. God was very clearly trying to get the attention of the first disciples – to move them from fear to boldness, from inaction to action. Whether or not the event took place as John describes – on the day of resurrection; or whether, as Acts suggests, the Holy Spirit arrived on the Feast of Pentecost the disciples were caught unawares and their lives were turned upside down as a result. According to John, Jesus miraculously appears to the disciples even though the doors to the room are locked. He says: “Peace be with you” before showing them his credentials (his hands and side) and then he breathes on them and says: “Receive the Holy Spirit, if you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” John doesn’t tell us how the disciples respond but, given that there is a community to receive the written gospel some 40-50 years later, we must assume that the disciples were emboldened and empowered to share the gospel with others.

Luke’s account of the coming of the Holy Spirit is quite different but equally, if not more, dramatic. Again the disciples were gathered. Suddenly a sound like a violent wind filled the room and tongues of fire rested on each of them. Once more we are left to guess how the disciples felt, but Luke’s account does tell us how they reacted (or were spurred to act). The scene changes from the room to the street and, amazingly, what the disciples say can be understood by people from a multitude of nations. Peter, as the disciples’ representative, not only addresses the crowd, but delivers a sermon that is sufficiently eloquent and powerful that many of the listeners (3,000) are baptized.

Of course, the sending of the Spirit is so much more than an attention-getting device on God’s part. It is a completely transformative event in the lives of the disciples who are changed forever as a consequence of their experience. Not only are they pulled up short by the power of God’s Spirit in and among them, they are also changed – emboldened, empowered and enlivened.

According to Acts, the disciples are impelled to preach the gospel to strangers. The Holy Spirit gives them the courage to speak and the words to say. Peter, at least, seems to have been given a knowledge of the scriptures such that he can trace the story of Jesus form creation to the present. The confusion and lack of understanding that characterized his discipleship have simply disappeared. Enlightened by the Holy Spirit, he finds that he has the wisdom to communicate with all manner of people in such a way as to bring them to faith. He and his fellow disciples learn too that God is blind to colour, race and religion. Peter preaches without prejudice to a crowd that has come to Jerusalem from all over the world and those who seek baptism are not refused – regardless of their background.

The consequences of John’s more subtle account of the giving of the Spirit are no less extraordinary. In giving the disciples the Spirit, Jesus is commissioning them for ministry – not it must be noted, ministry on his behalf but ministry in their own right. “As the Father sent me, so I send you.” Through the work of the disciples Jesus’ presence and mission in the world will be continued and at the heart of this mission will be the authority to forgive or retain sins. (See below)

In both accounts the disciples are transformed from followers to leaders and are equipped by the Spirt of God, the Holy Spirit, to proclaim the gospel – to open the eyes of the world to God’s loving reconciling presence. In Jesus’ absence they are to continue the work that he began.

What has happened in the succeeding centuries that we no longer have the confidence to share the gospel with those around us? Why is it that we find ourselves to be timid or inarticulate (or both). When did we as individuals and community lose confidence in God’s presence in us?

In these strange and uncertain times, many of us have the opportunity to reflect on our lives and on our faith. On this, the two thousand and twentieth anniversary of God’s sending of the Holy Spirit there are a number of questions that we could ask ourselves.

How does God our attention?. What does it take for us to take heed of the Spirit within? And what could we not achieve if only we trusted the power of the Spirit that has been given to us?

(It would take another sermon to explain what Jesus means by this. Suffice to note, before we arrogantly take the place in judging right from wrong, ‘sinner’ from ‘saint’, we have to understand John’s use of the word ‘sin’. Essentially, by ‘sin’ Jesus means separation from God or a failure to see or know God. Through the Holy Spirit, the disciples can bear witness to God and thus free people from their ignorance (or their sin).
A similar passage in Matthew is likewise less about judgement but rather about knowing what rules/laws to retain and what can be loosened or done away with.
Neither allow us to put ourselves in the place of God.)

God’s prayer for us

May 23, 2020

Easter 7 – 2020

John 17:1-11

Marian Free

In the name of God who holds us in prayer. Amen.

In life, and particularly in ministry, we have the privilege to meet some amazing people – people who challenge, confront and support us in our faith journey. Such encounters are very often humbling especially if we take the opportunity to be open to the lessons provided or to the care that is expressed in such meetings. The examples are myriad, but today I would like to share a couple that pick up the theme of today’s gospel – prayer. 

Many years ago, before I was ordained, I attended Parish planning days. On these occasions we were often divided into small groups to consider, among other things, the ways in which we practiced our faith. Anglicans are not very good at sharing such things, so it was extraordinary to be in a situation in which congregation members were willing to confide in each other. On not one, but two separate occasions, in two different parishes, I found myself in groups with women who were in their seventies or eighties (in other words with women whom I only knew as the elderly members of the congregation). I was deeply moved (and chastened) to hear that they rose at 4:00am in the morning so that they could pray without interruption. I was, and still am, struck by their discipline and by the importance that they placed on their faith and their prayer life.  (And on mornings such as this when it is only 12 degrees at 8:00am I am overawed by their resilience!)

I confess that I have not adopted their practice, but all these years later their rigor and discipline continue to call me to account. From time to time I find myself comparing my prayer life to theirs and being challenged to pray more and to pray more regularly.

A quite different, but equally humbling story relates to my first incumbency. During that time, I had the joy of meeting Ruby. Ruby was beautiful and wise and was only eight years old. She was the granddaughter of a parishioner. Her mother was an addict and her grandmother had to maintain a fine (non-judgmental) line in order to retain her contact with her granddaughter. I was fond of Ruby and concerned for her and her situation. So it was that I was completely blown away when her grandmother informed me that Ruby had set up a little altar in her bedroom and even more astounded to learn that, among other things, Ruby said a prayer for me every day!  It is impossible to tell you how moved I was by that knowledge. Knowing that Ruby was praying for me filled me with an overwhelming sense of being loved and held and supported. Whenever I felt underappreciated or overworked, I remembered Ruby’s prayers and regained my sense of perspective. 

John chapter 17 concludes Jesus’ farewell speech. In this section he moves from instruction and encouragement to prayer – not for himself, but for those who are close to him and by extension for those who will come to faith through them. In the face of his impending death Jesus expresses a sense of completion. Despite what lies ahead, Jesus is not anxious for himself. He knows that his relationship with God is clear and is assured. He sees his death as his glorification (or perhaps a confirmation of the glory that was his from the beginning). Jesus’ death might mark the end of his earthly ministry, but Jesus knows that that in itself was only a brief interruption to the existence that he has shared from the beginning with God and to which death will restore him.  

Jesus’ anxiety is not for himself or for his future, but for his disciples – those who have come to faith in him (and therefore to faith in God). Their earthly lives, which have been dramatically changed by their relationship with Jesus, will have to continue in the world without his physical presence to protect and defend them. Knowing that their faith in him has placed them in danger, Jesus prays for them, committing them to God’s care and protection. 

Interestingly, Jesus does not break off his conversation with the disciples in order to pray. He does not separate himself from them or adopt a pious stance (head bowed; hands clasped). He does not feel the need to go to the Temple to pray.  Instead he remains where he is, at the dinner table, surrounded – we must assume – by the empty plates, the cups and the leftovers. Jesus’ prayer – the only prayer recorded in John’s gospel takes place in the presence of his disciples who must surely notice that he is no longer addressing them, but God. This means that they can hear everything he says and the tone in which he says it. 

Because Jesus prays in their presence, the disciples are first-hand witnesses of Jesus’ love for them, his confidence in them, his desire that God should protect them from  harm and his firm belief that because they know him, they know God and that such knowledge is the key to eternal life. Jesus’ prayer assures the disciples that they already belong to God and that they share with Jesus his unity with God. I wonder how the disciples felt – not only to know that Jesus was praying for them, but to overhear the words of that prayer – to know that through Jesus’ prayer they were held and loved and supported – no matter what that future might hold.

Verse 20 tells us that Jesus’ prayer encompasses those who believe in him through the words of the disciples. Twenty centuries later, through the gospel we can eavesdrop on Jesus praying for us – not in private but for all the world to hear. We are so used to hoping that God will hear our prayer that perhaps we do not pay enough attention to God’s prayer for us.

Jesus is always overturning the tables, forcing us to rethink our ways of seeing the world, opening our hearts and minds to new possibilities. What does it mean that God is praying for us, for you?

How does it change your relationship to prayer, to God? 

Giving the Spirit room

May 16, 2020

Easter 6 -2020
John 14:15-21
Marian Free

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

The liturgical season of Easter lasts for seven weeks. The chocolate may have been eaten and the hot cross buns may have disappeared from the shelves until Boxing Day but the Church continues to affirm that Christ is risen and to reflect on what that means for those who follow him. Of course every Sunday is a celebration of the resurrection but there is so much of Jesus’ life to remember we, concentrate our celebration of the actual resurrection during these seven weeks. Historically – at least according to the Book of Acts – the Holy Spirit descended on the disciples on the Jewish feast of Pentecost – fifty days after the Passover. The church adapted this pattern for its liturgical calendar – celebrating the resurrection on the Sunday following the first full moon occurring on or after the vernal equinox (similar to the dating of the Passover) and maintaining the feast until the Sunday of Pentecost.

It is not surprising then that during the seven weeks, the lectionary readings should change their focus from the resurrection to the coming of the Hoy Spirit – the readings reflecting the movement from one feast to another.

As we identified last week, chapters 14-17 constitute Jesus’ farewell speech. Jesus, knowing that he was about to die and return to God, was doing his best to prepare his disciples for life in a world without his physical presence. Interestingly the focus of Jesus’ speech is not on his impending death or on the trauma that the disciples can expect in the next seventy-two hours. Jesus’ primary concern in this speech is not with death, but with life. Jesus looks to the future. In effect he is making it clear that message that he preached, the example that he gave and the miracles that he performed are not dependent on him. Amazingly, it seems that Jesus’ work will continue through the disciples and through the church that will come into being through them. Jesus’ goal here is to prepare the disciples for his absence and for the role that they will play in the future.

What becomes clear is that the disciples are not expected to do this alone. Jesus knows that the disciples will be bereft without him. Like a ship without a rudder they will be directionless – used to being led rather than being leaders. So Jesus is speaking to this situation when he says that he will not leave them orphans but will send them another advocate – the Holy Spirit. In Jesus’ absence the Holy Spirit will lead the disciples into all truth, will teach them and will enable them to testify as Jesus has testified.

Jesus introduces the Spirit by telling the disciples that the Father will send them another Advocate. There are two confusing things about this statement. One is the word ‘advocate’ which in our context relates to one who takes our part – in the court, in relation to health care or in any other situation is which we might need another person to firmly state our case. Koester points out that John uses the word in the reverse sense. The Holy Spirit does not represent us to God, making the case for our salvation, rather the Holy Spirit continues Jesus’ work of representing God and God’s love to us. Jesus first, and then the Holy Spirit bring to us the truth of God’s love – love that requires nothing of us.Though we do not require representation in the heavenly court we may still need to be convinced that God’s abundant love will never be withdrawn. The Holy Spirit, (God’s Advocate) will come to the disciples – and to all who join their number – as a constant reminder of that love.

The Spirit is referred to as ‘another’ Advocate. In more ways than one, the Spirit continues the work of Jesus in and with the disciples. Jesus and the Spirit both come from and abide in the Father. As Jesus taught, revealed the truth, exposed sin and glorified God, so the Spirit will do the same and more. The Spirit will continue the work of Jesus and will make known the presence of the risen Jesus to the disciples and to the world.

Not only does Jesus assure the disciples that they will not be abandoned and promise ‘another Advocate’ he makes the even more extraordinary claim that the disciples ‘will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you’. The intimate relationship that Jesus shares with the Father will, he claims, be extended to include the disciples. Indeed, all those who believe in Jesus will share in the mutual indwelling of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Jesus death and resurrection makes possible a relationship in which God (the Trinity) is in the believer and the believer is in God (the Trinity). It is as if the crucifixion dissolves the barriers between human and divine, just as in the life of Jesus the barriers between human and divine were broken-down.

Jesus is going to his death (and his glorification) and is returning from whence he came but the world is irrevocably changed as a result of his presence. Humankind have been assured of and been witness to the unconditional love of God as expressed through the incarnation. What Jesus has done will be continued through the work of the Holy Spirit and through the Holy Spirit, the disciples will be empowered to do the same. The world should be overflowing with the presence of God.

Isn’t it time we stopped getting in the way and gave more room to the Holy Spirit?

Life not death

May 9, 2020

Easter 5 – 2020
John 14:1-14
Marian Free

In the name of God who empowers and directs our lives. Amen.

As is the case with much of John’s gospel, today’s passage is complex and is filled with a number of different ideas that cannot be adequately dealt with in one sermon. The passage is the beginning of Jesus’ farewell speech, spoken after Jesus had washed the feet of the disciples and after Judas had been exposed as the one who would hand Jesus over to the authorities and who had gone off into the night. In the previous verses Jesus had announced that he would be with the disciples only a little longer and he had told them that they would not be able to follow him. In response, Peter had brashly said that he would follow Jesus even if it meant laying down his life for him. In reply Jesus had said that not only was Peter’s an empty promise, but that before daybreak, he would deny Jesus three times.

In our passage then, Jesus was addressing disciples who were confused, anxious and perhaps even frightened. Nothing made sense to them. Jesus appeared to be speaking in riddles. He had said that they could not follow him, but now he was saying: “You know the way”. Jesus has not given them a road map but has suggested that their relationship with him was all the direction that they needed. In essence, Jesus was saying, that if the disciples had found him, then they had already found the Father, that is they had already reached their destination. This relationship – with Jesus and therefore with the Father – Jesus had gone on to explain, was not passive but active. If the disciples had grasped the unity of Jesus and the Father, not only would they know the way, but they would enter into that relationship. In turn, their relationship with the Father through the Son, would empower them not only to do the works that Jesus had done, but even greater works! It was no wonder that the disciples were overwhelmed.

The first 6 verses of this chapter are regularly chosen as the reading for a funeral. Those who are grieving find comfort and reassurance in the knowledge that Jesus has gone ahead to prepare a place for us. However, if we leave it there and don’t explore the wider context, we miss the point of this and the subsequent passages. That is to say Jesus might have announced his departure and reassured the disciples of his return, but he is not preparing his disciples for death. He is equipping them for life. Jesus’ death will not be the end of the disciples’ life together, it will herald a new chapter in the life of the community, a life, we will discover that is enlivened and empowered by the Holy Spirit.
Chapter 14 begins what is known as Jesus’ ‘farewell speech’. A farewell speech was a well-known literary genre in the Old Testament and in the Graeco-Roman world. It “highlighted the speaker’s impending death, care of those remaining, the regulation of discipleship, thanks to the gods, an accounting for his life, consolation to an inner-circles of followers, didactic speeches and political and philosophical testaments” . There was a great deal of variation in content and expression. For example, Deuteronomy in its entirety is Moses’ farewell speech. He recounts the escape from Egypt; reminds the Israelites of their covenant relationship with Yahweh, the responsibilities that that entails and the consequences of failing to live up to Yahweh’s expectations. In Genesis the final chapters record Jacob’s farewell speech to his sons which takes the form of a blessing for each one of them.

In John’s gospel Jesus’ farewell speech prepares his disciples for the future. He tells them that he is going away, promises that he will send the Holy Spirit, encourages them to love one another (to the point of death) and to be strong in the face of opposition. Jesus’ words were not intended to provide comfort for the dying or the grieving but instruction for the living. It is Jesus who is dying, not those to whom he is speaking. He does not want the disciples to put their lives on hold waiting for his return or for their own deaths. Rather his expectation is that their relationship with him – and by extension with the Father – will ensure that even in his absence they will continue to do what he has done and to do much more besides.

Jesus begins his speech with the words: “Do not let your hearts be troubled”, words that he repeats towards the end of the chapter. “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” Jesus’ words could not be any more pertinent in today’s climate. In recent weeks we, and the community around us have lived with uncertainty, anxiety and perhaps even with fear of death or the loss of a loved. Even now, as the restrictions are being lifted, we do not have a clear road map of the way ahead or of what the world will look like. Some things will never be the same and we will not know the true cost to the community for some years.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.” Faith in Jesus enables us to face the present with resilience, confidence and even, dare I say, a sense of wonder as to what this time of seclusion might have had to teach us and the church of which we are a part. As we begin to come out of isolation to a future that is as yet unknown, we do well to remember that Jesus is “the way, the truth and the life” and that in fellowship with him we can and will face whatever it is that life has to throw at us.

Putting meaning into the abyss

May 2, 2020

Easter 4 – 2020

Good Shepherd Sunday John 10:1-10

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who gave us life and encourages to live it abundantly. Amen.

In 2001, Richard Holloway (the former Primate of the church of Scotland) spoke at the Grafton Festival of Philosophy, Science and Theology. At that point he had retired and was not attending church. He had become disillusioned with the Anglican church and disturbed by its certainties and its steadfast refusal to include gay and lesbian Christians. His lecture took the form of a series of reflections on life, death and faith. Towards the end he said: “Faith for me is now romantic defiance against meaninglessness. Even if it doesn’t mean anything, I choose to live as though it did. And the philosopher of this faith as romantic defiance is the great passionate Castilian Miguel de Unamuno, in the tragic sense of life a magnificent romantic quixotic book, and something that Unamuno wrote and I’d love stencilled on my tombstone: ‘Man is perishing that may be, but if it is nothingness that awaits us, then let us so live that it will be an unjust fate.’ If it is abyss, if we come from the abyss, if we go to the abyss, if the abyss is what it means, then let us so live that we will put meaning into that abyss. That’s to live by faith.

How then are we to live? What is the end of it? I think we’re to live in a state of permanent, expectant uncertainty, and we’re to celebrate it. Even if faith doesn’t mean anything, I choose to live as though it did. If it is abyss, let us so live that we will put meaning into that abyss – to live by faith.”[1]

Even if faith doesn’t mean anything, let us so live that we will put meaning into that abyss. What a confronting and astounding statement. So many people believe that the purpose of faith is to attain entry into heaven that it would be difficult for them to comprehend living a life of faith that did not have eternal life as its end goal. Yet Holloway suggests that even without that hope, even if there is nothing at the end of life but an empty abyss, we should still live by faith. Whatever he believes, he is convinced that there is something about faith (in our case, and his, the Christian faith) that makes sense of life in the present and makes life worth living. He is confident that the practice of faith makes a difference to life in the here and now whether or not there is a life to be lived in the future.

Even though in 2001 Holloway had an uneasy relationship with the church and with the faith that it represented, he was still able to say that given a choice he would not live his life in any other way. Unfortunately Holloway doesn’t not expand on this idea, but I would suggest that the gifts that faith has to offer of strength in the face of difficulty, of hope in the face of despair, peace in the face of tumult, joy in the midst of sorrow, and steadiness in the midst of uncertainty are gifts that few would willingly give up (whether they believed or not). I would claim that the practices of faith – forgiveness, humility and generosity – are not to be discarded lightly because they enrich and ennoble our lives in the present regardless of their impact on our future.

It is even possible to argue the reverse – that faith lived only with an eye on the future can be stultifying and unfulfilling. If we believe and live faithful lives only because we are afraid of the consequences of not doing so we will fail to reap the benefits of grasping the life faith offers in the present.

Jesus’ promise of life is both for the present and for the future. Images of resurrection are applicable to the surmounting of difficulties and setbacks in the present as much as they apply to the rewards of eternal life.

In today’s gospel Jesus says: “I have come that you may have life and have it in abundance.” It is not just that faith in Jesus is life-giving, it is abundantly life giving. Jesus’ gifts are not half-hearted but generous and overflowing (water to wine, bread to feed 5,000, death so that we might live). More than that, in John’s gospel Jesus claims to be water, bread, light and life – all of which are necessities for life in the present (in the future there will be no need for water, bread, light or even life as we know it).

This suggests that people of faith are not to live timidly and cautiously, but boldly and confidently, they are not to avoid danger and hurt but to grasp every opportunity to live a life that is rich and full and they should not to live in fear of disapproval, but in expectation of the abundance of God’s provisions.

Holloway’s doubt may not sit comfortably with me, but questions about the existence of God or the possibility of heaven do not throw me into a spin because for me a life of faith is so rich and meaningful that as Holloway says: “If it is abyss, let us so live that we will put meaning into that abyss – to live by faith.”

Our faith holds out a future hope, but it is a hope that should fill our present with confidence, joy and courage and enable us to live in “a state of permanent, expectant uncertainty.” In today’s world could we ask for better advice or, as those who believe, set a better example?

 

 

[1] ABC Encounter Programme, Sunday 23 December 2001 7:10AM