Family values

February 29, 2020

Lent 1 – 2020

Matthew 4:1-11

Marian Free

In the name of God who has created us in God’s image. Amen.

Even though I am not a royalist I am as curious as anyone else about the current buzz around Harry and Meghan. On the ABC website on Saturday (29th February) there was some commentary about their future, in particular the future of their branding. The point was made that if the pair want to make their own way in the world, they will have to find a way to brand themselves that attracts engagements and/or sponsors that will create an income stream. That goal may be difficult, the writer points out, now that they are no longer able to use the title or the brand “Royal”. By going their own way, they have cut themselves off from the family/the brand and from the responsibilities, privileges and roles of being part of that brand. To ensure a public presence and to create their own brand they may have to seek the very thing that they were trying to avoid – publicity. In the past Harry’s identity was tied to that of the Royal family, none of us know what it will be like now that he has cut those ties[1].

What does it mean to be a part of the Christian family? More particularly, what does it mean to be the Son of God, a child of God? This is the question that Jesus’ temptations attempt to answer (for Jesus first of all and for Matthew’s readers second). Jesus is led into the wilderness as a direct consequence of his baptism at which a voice from heaven declared: “This is my son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Matthew has gone to great lengths to establish Jesus’ identity as a member of the people of Israel whose lineage goes all the way back to Abraham. What is more, Matthew makes it clear that Jesus is the fulfillment of God’s Old Testament promises.

Jesus’ baptism takes this process of identification one step further, Jesus is named as the son of God. That is, he is integrally related to God, a member of God’s family (part of God’s brand even!)

Jesus’ temptations tease out the meaning of this title and Jesus’ entitlement to claim his place in the family. The tempter is encouraging Jesus to strike out on his own, to make his own way in the world. “If you are the Son of God..” Three times the tempter or Satan confronts Jesus with these words. If you are the Son of God turn stones into bread, throw yourself off this high place, fall down and worship me. If you are the Son of God. If you are the Son of God, prove it. Perform miracles, demonstrate that no harm can come to you, take over the world! Make your own way in the world, you know you can do it!

In the mind of the tempter (and perhaps in the minds of the readers of the gospel] being the Son of God means having the power to do all these – working miracles, doing dangerous things and coming to no harm and using one’s power to rule the world. Thankfully, Jesus is clear that being the Son of God means remaining close to God, taking on the responsibilities and demands that come with being God’s Son and conforming to the image of God, whatever that might cost. Despite the temptation to do so, Jesus will not do cheap tricks, take an easy path or seek power for himself. To do so would place him in competition with God and would cut him off from the source of his life and power.

As the Son of God, Jesus has to trust God, to believe that God knows what is best (for him and for the world) and to understand that if he wants to be a part of God’s family he has to accept and conform to the family norms and values. This is what the tempter does not understand. Coming from the position of someone who challenges and resists God, the tempter believes that Jesus will fare much better if he strikes out on his own – if he chooses his way and not God’s way.

On a superficial level this seems to be the case, especially in the first instance. It is completely within Jesus’ power to turn stones into bread – after all, doesn’t he feed the five thousand? Jumping off the Temple without being hurt would certainly draw people’s attention – and be an easy way to ensure that people followed him. And ruling the world – isn’t that what it is all about, getting the world to follow him?

Jesus understands that being severed from God will not in fact benefit anyone but himself (if it does that). He resists the seduction of an easier path. He places his relationship with God above his personal needs and desires and he trusts that, whatever lies ahead, reliance on God, trust in God, submission to God and above all his intimate relationship with God are the only way to achieve God’s goals for him (and for the world).

Being a child of God means aligning oneself with the values of the family of God, accepting that (however difficult the present may be) God has our best interests (and those of the world) at heart and that the future God has planned for us is one that we will not find if we choose any other way.

 

 

[1] In what follows, I am not suggesting that Harry and Meghan have given into temptation, just that their current situation illustrates what it means to separate oneself from the culture and norms of a family.

Glory and suffering

February 22, 2020

Transfiguration- 2020

Matthew 17:1-9

Marian Free

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

Six days later. It always seems such an odd way to begin a reading. Six days later than when? Why, when the gospel writers have no particular interest in time, is it important to be so exact on this occasion? What happened six days ago (at least in the telling of the story) that was sufficiently important that the readers needed to know the time frame? What is the symbolic meaning of those six days? Unfortunately for those who are curious there are no agreed explanations for the number six (Luke says 8) days. Our best guess is that Matthew and Mark are alluding to the time that Moses spent on the mountain when he received the law. What is clear though is that the gospel writers are drawing our attention to the fact that the events on the mountain are integrally related to and have to be interpreted in the light of what has come before. That is, Jesus’ transfiguration has to be seen and understood against the background of suffering which both precedes and follows the mountain top experience. Earthly and heavenly sit side-by-side. Jesus’ divinity can never be separated from his humanity, his glory cannot be severed from his humiliation.

Six days before Jesus took Peter, James and John with  him to the mountain, Jesus had thrown out a challenge to the disciples. “Who do people say that I am?” he asked. The disciples responded: “John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” Jesus then asked:  “But who do you say that I am?” To which Peter responded: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus commended Peter for his insight but immediately went on to redefine what it meant to be the Christ. It was not, as the disciples seem to expect, a way of glory or might. Being the Christ will not lead to power or to victory over Rome, but to suffering and to death. What is more, Jesus continued, those who wish to follow in his footsteps must prepare themselves for the same fate. “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Jesus’ transfiguration affirms Peter’s declaration that Jesus is the Son of God but the event is framed by suffering – Jesus’ prediction of his own suffering which precedes it and his reference to the suffering of John the Baptist which follows it.

Suffering and glory, ordinary and extraordinary are integrally linked in the gospel. They seem to be two sides of the same coin.

Together they provide an illustration of discipleship which, for the most part, will be mundane and ordinary, which will not protect us from suffering and pain (and in fact will, for some,  be the cause of their suffering and pain) but will give us moments of transcendence, clarity and peace that will provide strength and courage for the journey.

The Bible makes no attempt to suggest that a life of faith will protect us from harm or that doing God’s will will somehow shield us from danger – just the opposite is true. From beginning to end we are shown that placing our trust in God and responding to God’s call on our lives, exposes us to misunderstanding and possible rejection. Discipleship is counter-cultural, it means telling truth to power, standing up for what is right and protecting the poor, the marginalised and the vulnerable. Truth-telling is not always welcomed, mixing with or being inclusive of the outsider is often viewed with suspicion as is lifting them out of places of despair. Discipleship will not always win us friends or respect but sometimes the opposite. The prophets are threatened, exiled and thrown into cisterns. Jesus has only a brief period of being revered by the crowds before he is unceremoniously arrested, flogged and crucified.

Transcendence is only part of the story. The life of discipleship is often mundane and sometimes painful but there will be moments when God breaks through the cloud revealing a different reality and transfiguring our suffering into a future that we had not imagined was possible.

Breaking the vicious cycle of trying and failing

February 15, 2020

Epiphany 6 – 2020

Matthew 5:21-48

Marian Free

In the name of God who desires our wholeness as much as our holiness. Amen.

While I have no desire to be anything other than Christian, I do believe that we can learn a lot from the practices of other faiths. For example, on Friday I learned, from the driver of an Uber, who practices Jainism, that his wife was completing a fast that had lasted 411 days! During that time, she could only eat prescribed foods and then only between certain hours of the day. On some days she could only sip boiled water. As I listened, I felt more than a little chastened. Even though fasting is one of the Christian spiritual disciplines it is not one that I find easy to practice and, to be honest, my Lenten practice could be more costly and embraced more wholeheartedly. Our forty days of Lent do not even compare with the 411 of this woman! I’m not saying that I intend to compete or suggest that we should aim for a similar goal, but I can allow this woman’s practice to throw a light on my own poor efforts to improve the state of my soul and my relationship with God.

When Julie and Maria were employed as my P.A.’s I was able to explore with them some of the practices of Buddhism. One aspect of their practice that I found attractive and useful was the way in which their teaching offered practical techniques in relation say to loving one’s enemies or forgiving someone who had wronged them. More than once, good faithful Christians have said to me, “how can I love a murderer or someone who is an abuser?” or “I feel terrible, but I can never forgive her (or him) for what they’ve done.” The problem is that it is not just that they can’t keep the command to love, but their failure to love or to forgive leaves them feeling guilty and worthless. Sometimes such a person feels that they cannot play a role in the life of the church or worse that they don’t belong in church at all. Tragically, they have heard the biblical teachings but have not been fully equipped to apply in their lives.

As I understand it a major component of Buddhism is the practical instruction or illustration of the teaching – how to forgive, how to love the unlovable. On one occasion I was feeling particularly put upon by someone. I was hurt and angry and probably a little self-righteous. Maria knew the situation (Personal Assistants can serve as a sounding board). Her response was to tell me that Buddhism teaches that we need to ask ourselves what the situation has to teach us. In other words, she turned the tables on my self pity and reminded me that the situation might have something to teach me. (Ouch)

Some Christians, and those who have left the faith, see Christianity as being full of dichotomies – be good, not bad, obey the rules or be punished; don’t do this, don’t do that. It can be easy to hear the church’s teaching or to read the bible in terms of black and white and to miss the grey, to see it as a list of proscriptions rather than than a guide book on how to live, as being more about what not to do than what to do.

The traditional interpretation of today’s gospel contributes to that view – especially if one understands Jesus as strengthening or adding a new list of prohibitions to the pre-existing law. Taken as antitheses – not this, but that; “You have heard it said, but I say” – the set of six teachings appears to put the keeping of the law beyond the reach of anyone.

Moderns scholars argue that this either/or approach is not helpful. They suggest that rather than setting two things in opposition Jesus is offering alternative ways of living or of behaving. Instead of critiquing the law and making its demands even more stringent, they argue that Jesus is providing a way out of the tit for tat that results from an unthinking application of the law. In other words, Jesus is providing practical ways of applying the law that break the cycle – being bad, being punished, being hurt, hurting the other. In these sayings, Jesus demonstrates how this cycle can be broken when those who believe in him take actions that are transformative not retributive, positive not negative. Blind obedience cannot lead to the fulfillment of the law – love of God and love of neighbour.

The first teaching in this set of six is the clearest example of this pattern and the easiest to explain. The traditional teaching is “you shall not kill, and whoever kills shall be liable to judgement”. Jesus continues by pointing out the vicious cycles that lead to murder and therefore to judgement. Being angry with another member of the community would lead to judgment, insulting another would cause them to be brought before the council, calling someone a fool you will be in the hell of fire. But, there is an alternative, a transformative, peace-making initiative[1] – be reconciled, make peace with your accuser before you get to court. There is another ending to the story and it is not judgment.

Jesus offers a positive way to keep the law, a way that breaks the cycle of anger and blame, a way that breaks the cycle of repeating the same mistake again, and again, and again, a way that breaks the cycle of impossible demand that leads to feelings of worthlessness and guilt. He replaces the negative demands of the law with positive solutions that free us to live unencumbered by fear and self-loathing and to grow in our relationship with God and with one another.

 

 

[1] It begins with Jesus quoting the Traditional teaching on murder

  1. You have heard of old that it was said
  2. You shall not kill,
  3. and whoever kills shall be liable to judgement

Then follows

  1. Jesus’ teaching on the vicious cycles that lead to murder and judgement
  2. Being angry – you shall be liable to judgement
  3. uttering ρακα (anger) – you shall be liable to the council
  4. uttering μωρε (you fool) – you shall be liable to hell

Finally Jesus provides

  1. teaching on transformative initiatives that deliver from the vicious cycles
  2. If therefore you remember that someone has something against you, go be reconciled.
  3. Make peace with your accuser if going to court.
  4. Explanation: otherwise you will be liable to judgment. (Glen Stassen)

No room to rest on our laurels

February 8, 2020

Epiphany 5 – 2020

Matthew 5:13-20

Marian Free

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

When we think about The Sermon on the Mount most of us think of Matthew 5:1-12 – the Beatitudes. In fact, the sermon as a whole extends all the way to the end of chapter 7. It consists of a selection of Jesus’ sayings that Matthew has gathered into one place and arranged somewhat thematically. Matthew structures his gospel around five (some say six) such blocks of teaching of which this is the first. The teaching material is separated by narrative material which is linked to what has come before. In this instance Matthew introduces the ‘Sermon’ with an announcement that Jesus teaches and heals. The sermon (teaching) is followed by accounts of Jesus’ healing before Matthew moves to the next collection of teaching material. It is most unlikely that Jesus’ teaching consisted of long lists of unrelated material. A more believable scenario is that during the course of his ministry Jesus taught the disciples and the crowds a variety of things and, after his death, Jesus’ followers collected his sayings (and parables) together and repeated them to each other. In time the material was gathered into collections of sayings which the gospel writers used in their own particular way. The sayings included in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew) and in the Sermon on the Plain and Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem (Luke) are believed to have come from a common source (technically Quelle or Q) that was known to Matthew and Luke but not to Mark.

Though the sayings seem unrelated (today’s being salt, light and law), Matthew appears to have tried to structure them and to gather them into themes. Perhaps the best example of this is chapter 18 that contains sayings that are specifically directed to the community of faith – being careful not to harm another’s faith, how to resolve differences within the community and forgiveness (of other members of the community).

It is generally believed that the community for whom Matthew’s gospel was written was a community of Jews who had come to believe in Jesus and who believed that they were the logical outcome of God’s promises to Israel. That the community still thought of themselves as Jews is implied by the references to “their synagogues” (4:23, 9:35, 10:17, 12:9, 13:54) which suggests “our synagogues”. Only a Jewish Christian would engage so heatedly with the synagogue and would judge Israel so harshly. A Gentile community probably would not feel that there was any need to compete. Further, a primarily Gentile community might have placed more emphasis on the relaxation of the law instead of insisting that, “until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished.”

That Matthew’s community were convinced that they were the true Israel is also hinted at by the gospel writer’s use of the Old Testament and of Rabbinic forms of argument. Most importantly, the belief that the community felt that they were the logical and obvious continuation of Israel is demonstrated by the ‘competition’ with those Jewish communities that did not believe in Jesus and the attitude of one-upmanship concerning the law that we see in today’s gospel: “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and the Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.”

This make-up of the community also explains Matthew’s harsh, legalistic and exclusive stance . Whereas the other gospels and the letters of Paul express some ambivalence or even negativity towards the law, Matthew not only affirms it, but insists that members of his community should both keep the law and keep it even more rigorously than members of the Pharisaic sect with whom they seem to be in competition and whom Matthew accuses of hypocrisy. Matthew’s attacks on the scribes and Pharisees are much stronger than in Mark and Luke (see for example the invective in Chapter 23: “Woe to you scribes and Pharisees! Hypocrites!”). Such sayings suggest a defensiveness on the part of Matthew’s community and a need to protect their legitimacy.

Following on from the Beatitudes, the sayings in today’s gospel appear to be instructions to the community. Those who are blessed are expected to be salt and light; seasoning and illumination for the wider community. They are to live in such a way as to make Jesus present in the world. In other words, Jesus both comforts and reassures, commissions and challenges the disciples. He assures them that they are blessed, but insists that with the blessings comes responsibility. The mission does not end with him but must continue in and through the lives of his disciples – in this case the members of Matthew’s community.

It is possible to soften Matthew’s rigid stance with regard to the law, to argue that Jesus here is referring to fulfilling the law in the sense of bringing to completeness, bringing wholeness to the law. We can argue that in some way the law has come to fullness in the person of Jesus that it is fulfilled, not abolished. It is not done away with, but is transformed. I want to suggest that we should let the saying stand if for no other reason than that this saying challenges us never to slip into the sort of complacency and hypocrisy that Matthew’s Jesus accuses the scribes and Pharisees of, but that we are always striving to build lives that fully represent the desires of God for us as revealed by Jesus.

The blessedness of which Jesus speaks is not an excuse for laziness, but a reason to excel, to strive to be worthy of such blessings and in turn to really be the presence of Christ in the world.

Seeing what is in front of us

February 1, 2020

Feast of the Presentation – 2020

Luke 2:22-40

Marian Free

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

Sacramental worship in first century Palestine was a very different proposition from that in Brisbane today. Whereas we are used to celebrating Holy Communion every week in our Parish Churches, the Hebrews might, if they were able, attend the Temple for major feast days or to observe specific rituals that could only be carried out in the Temple. Passover seems to have been a must for most Israelites, but it is possible that not everyone was able to make these pilgrimages on a yearly basis.

It is difficult to know how many towns or villages had synagogues, but from the biblical evidence that Jesus taught in their synagogues and that the early believers came together every week, we can assume that it was the practice (of the men at least) to gather weekly to read from scripture, say or sing the Psalms and to expound on the biblical text. But as there was only one Temple, anything that required the services of a priest took place there, in Jerusalem.

In setting the scene for his gospel, the author of Luke is careful to establish Jesus’ Jewish credentials. This seems strange for a person who was writing for a Gentile audience, but the Roman Empire was suspicious of anything novel, in particular of different belief systems which they regarded as superstitions and as a threat to the Empire. Judaism was accepted and even respected by the Romans because of its long, established history. By making it clear that Jesus was a member of this ancient faith Luke establishes the credibility (and the heritage) of what, to many, appeared to be a new religion.

Luke builds up the picture of Jesus’ Jewish credentials in a number of ways. The parents of John the Baptist (Jesus’ cousin) are described as coming from ancient priestly families and Zechariah is in the Temple offering the sacrifice when an angel announces John’s conception. Mary and Joseph fulfil the obligation under the law to circumcise Jesus on the eighth day. Forty days after Jesus’ birth they make the long journey to Jerusalem to offer a sacrifice to redeem their first-born son and to undergo the rite of purification. Later, when Jesus is twelve years old, the family will return to Jerusalem for the Passover Festival. Five times in today’s the author refers to the law, the basis of the relationship between God and God’s people and Luke’s gospel both begins and ends in the Temple – the centre of the Jewish faith. In other words, the Gentile readers of this account of Jesus’ life (in particular Theophilus) are left in no doubt that this emerging faith has its roots firmly based in Judaism and is in fact nothing new but a continuation of that ancient religion.

In describing the presentation of Jesus in the Temple Luke moves the story forward. He suggests that the time of the prophets has ended. What God has promised to Israel has come to pass. Led by the Spirit, Simeon recognises the child as the Lord’s anointed – the one who will be the instrument of God’s salvation – a light to the Gentiles and the glory of God’s people Israel. Without labouring the point, Luke establishes that God has acted in the world and that going forward, Gentiles as well as Jews will be included in God’s acts of salvation.

Luke has established that this apparently ‘new’ faith has an age-old history. Now he makes it clear that, with the birth of Jesus, the faith is moving from one era into another. It is a continuation of the old while at the same time it is leaving the past behind and forging a new path. John the Baptist provided the bridge between the past and the present. From now on the focus will be on Jesus and God’s actions in the world through him. All this, the reader is led to believe, is completely in accord with God’s plan.

Luke moves the story forward in another way as well. Simeon’s words to Mary give us a foretaste of what it to come. Jesus’ presence will not be welcomed by all. His teachings and actions will be a source of division. People’s reaction to him will reveal where they stand in relation to what God is doing in the world and a once unified faith will be divided to the point of separation.

When I read this account, what strikes me is the wisdom, openness and spirituality of Simeon and Anna and their very different responses to Jesus. Both are near the end of their lives and seem to have led lives of prayer such that their connection to God is strong and their awareness of God’s presence in their lives is real and powerful. Mary and Joseph would have been little different from other parents visiting the Temple that day, that week or that year. They were poor (as is indicated by the sacrifice of a dove not a lamb) and had travelled from an insignificant village in the Gentile region of Galilee.  Yet Simeon, guided by the Spirit, comes into the Temple at the very moment that they do and recognises in Jesus the child whom God had promised he would see. Simeon’s reaction is to take the child and give thanks. Anna appears to be already in the Temple and has presumably seen or heard something. She wastes no time with the child and his parents but exuberantly praises God and announces the presence of the child to everyone who is ‘looking for the redemption of Jerusalem’.

As their lives come to a close, Anna and Simeon demonstrate a depth of faith that enables them to sense what God is up to and to recognise God’s presence in the world. They display an openness to the possibility that God might do the unexpected and they reveal their confidence that God will do what God has promised. May we too live such lives of faith and faithfulness that our relationship with God will make us aware of God’s presence in our lives and in the lives of others and may we live in expectation that God will act in the world.

Which kingdom?

January 25, 2020

Epiphany 3 – 2020

Matthew 4:12-23

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us not only to follow but to serve God and serve others. Amen.

 There are a number of benefits to social media, but equally there are a number of downsides. These include bullying, spreading ‘false news’ and creating narratives that do not necessarily reflect the whole picture. This is illustrated to some extent by the content on some of the local sites. There have been a number of break-ins in the area recently and a couple of other nasty situations. Despite information from the police that suggest that the situation is not much worse than previously and that Clayfield and the surrounding suburbs are a safe place to life and/or work; repeated posts on Facebook seem to be creating an atmosphere of fear, which can lead to withdrawal, self-preservation and in turn a lack of compassion.

 It is possible that this was played out in another story that was posted on the same site. It reads: “This morning I witnessed the saddest situation on Seymour road. A young man was laying face down-still on the ground. As I approached in my car I witnessed a couple step over him and continue on their walk…another woman with a dog walk around him, quickening her pace…another gent crossed the road. No one appeared to care.”

Our gospel reading today continues the theme of light that continues through Epiphany. “The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.” Matthew is quoting Isaiah chapter 9. Isaiah is writing in the context of the Assyrian occupation of Israel. He is encouraging the people to maintain their faith in God, reminding them that God will send a king who will defeat the invaders and who will introduce a time of endless peace. Centuries later, Matthew’s audience would have understood that when Isaiah names Zebulun and Naphtali he is referring to the lands promised by God to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the lands that Moses saw and into which Joshua led the people of Israel.

In Jesus’ time the promised dawn must have appeared to be a distant hope. Galilee (Zebulun and Napthali) were once again under the oppressive yoke of a Gentile nation. This time it was the Romans. Occupation by the Romans had had more than a demoralizing effect. Under Caesar’s rule farming land had been usurped and given to others, depriving families of a means of earning an income and dependent on others for work. Exorbitant and crippling taxes resulted in poverty which led to poor diets, poor hygiene and therefore to poor health. Into this situation of despair Jesus came – announcing a very different situation – the kingdom of God – the reign of God that would bring restoration and peace, rather than oppression and devastation.

Jesus has barely appeared on the scene when he insisted that the fishermen, Peter and Andrew, James and John, follow him. These four are to be the first of many – women and men – who will be caught up in in vision of God’s rule and whose lives will be given meaning and purpose where before there was only drudgery and hopeless. It was a radical move, but it may not have been as hard as we think for Peter and Andrew, James and John to drop everything and follow Jesus. Fishing was demanding, exhausting and often unrewarding work. As fishermen they might have had a semblance of independence, but their boats were almost certainly owned by a Roman invader to whom they would have owed a percentage of their catch, more of the catch would have gone to pay taxes for using the roads and for selling the fish. At the end of the day there would have been little left for themselves.

Jesus’ confidence obviously attracted the men and what is more, he has offered them a future, a new role – fishing for people – whatever that might mean. Instead of being caught up in an endless, soul-destroying occupation that brought little to no financial reward, instead of a daily grind that barely sustained their families, the brothers are called to a role in the kingdom that Jesus has come to proclaim. He must have symbolized the hope of a future that, until now, seemed out of reach. He has given the men a purpose, a reason to hope and to dream. They have no hesitation in joining Jesus in announcing the advent of God’s reign.

No sooner has Jesus begun to gather followers than he begins his mission in earnest – not only teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom but curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

The Roman Empire brought destruction poverty and despair. Jesus brought healing and wholeness. The Roman Empire imposed its rule by force. Jesus drew people to him through empathy and concern. The Roman Empire subjugated conquered peoples to its will. Jesus encouraged loyalty through the power of his presence and his word. The Roman Empire quashed opposition through fear. Jesus did not fear competition but encouraged others to join him in his enterprise. The Roman Empire disempowered it subjects. Jesus gave to his followers meaning and purpose.

The Roman Empire was dominated by fear. Jesus modelled a kingdom governed by compassion. The Roman Empire built walls of self-interest, self-preservation and disdain to isolate themselves from the suffering of the conquered, the poor and the disenfranchised. Jesus opened himself to the misery and pain of the outcast, the marginalised and the oppressed.

The Roman Empire is a distant memory, but we who are followers of Jesus continue to exist in two dimensions – the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the world. How we respond to threats and how we react to those who are do not fit the norm are a reflection of the kingdom in which we feel most at home. Perhaps we need to ask ourselves whether we are beginning to pull up the drawbridge to keep ourselves safe or whether Jesus’ love and compassion continues to determine our reaction to others and to the world around us.

Seeing and being seen

January 18, 2020

Epiphany 2 – 202

John 1:29-42

 Marian Free

In the name of God who sees who we are and what we can do. Amen.

When I was at school, I found English composition particularly difficult. In fact, the subject as a whole cause me a great deal of anxiety.  Other students seemed to have no trouble writing imaginative compositions, analysing Shakespeare or eloquently expressing what they thought this, or the other poet really meant. I really struggled. I felt that understood poetry in my gut, but I couldn’t get the words onto paper. I’d think that I had a reasonably good idea for a story but would not be able to execute it in the way that I wanted. My teachers were excellent and, for better or worse, a number of lessons have stayed with me. These include don’t start sentences with ‘and’ or with another word with which you’ve begun a previous sentence. In fact, try to use a variety of words to say the same or similar things. As a consequence, from Year 11 until I finished my PhD, Roget’s Thesaurus was my constant writing companion.

The author of the fourth gospel has no interest in such variety. As I’ve mentioned on previous occasions John is quite sparing in his vocabulary and therefore repetitive. He manages to write entire gospel using only 1,011 words. Words like to know and others like believe, love and light appear again and again in the gospel. Today’s reading from chapter 1 is a case in point. In the first section, John the Baptist says exactly the same phrase twice in succession: “I myself did not know him”. In the second section the word “remain” or “abide” is repeated five times – twice in relation to the Spirit’s remaining on Jesus at his baptism and three times in relation to John’s disciples who want to know where Jesus is remaining, who see where he is remaining and who remain with him for the day.

Given this, it is extraordinary to note the number of different verbs that the author of the fourth gospel uses for ‘to see’ in these fourteen verses. In English the verbs “see”, “look” and “behold” together appear ten times. In Greek five different verbs are used – βλέπω, (to see), ιδέ (look! Pay attention), θέαομαι (to gaze upon, to see with the eyes), οραω, (to see or perceive), and εμβλεπω (to gaze at the face, to consider). These are subtle differences but given the author’s reluctance to employ a vast array of words, one cannot help but wonder if there is some significance in the writer’s choice of these five. Why use five when conceivably one would do?

I want to hazard a guess that the choice of words is not an accident. The verb Θεαομαι is used twice. In the first instance, John sees (with his eyes) the Spirit descend on Jesus. On the second occasion, Jesus turns and gazes on two of John’s disciples who are following him. It is possible that this particular word implies a supernatural or a spiritual ‘seeing’. John sees what no one else sees or has seen – the Spirit of God. Seeing the Spirit of God enables him to recognise Jesus as the Son of God. Later Jesus turns and sees (with his eyes) John’s disciples. He doesn’t ask: “Why are you following me?” but, “What are you looking for?” His question suggests that he has seen that they are following him for a reason, that there is something that they want from him. His seeing is not superficial.  It appears to look into their hearts and to discern their purpose.

Another word, “εμβλεπω” also seems to hold a deeper meaning than is at first obvious. John sees Jesus and announces that he is the “Lamb of God”. He gazes at Jesus, considers who he is before bestowing a title that is unique and has no precedent. John’s is not a casual glance. It is a searching look, one that enables him to discern something about Jesus that no one else has noticed. The same verb is used when Jesus looks at Simon. He gazes on Simon’s face considering who Simon might really be and how he might be identified. Jesus gives Simon the name Cephas or Peter.

What is clear is that these two periscopes are about really seeing and about really being seen. John’s openness to the one who sent him (God) allows him to see the Spirit. Seeing the Spirit enables him to identify Jesus. A careful consideration of Jesus enables him to see and name Jesus as the “Lamb of God”. Jesus likewise sees, knows and names Simon.

Seeing and being seen are integrally related in our faith journey. They are two sides of the one coin. Unless we spend time gazing on God – Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier – we may not truly see God and we may not recognise God for who God really is. It is impossible to have a real relationship with anyone whom we do not truly see. On the other side of the coin, we can be certain that just as Jesus knew who Simon was and of what he was capable, so God – Father, Son and Spirit – knows exactly who we are and what we can and cannot do. God sees past the image that we present to the world to the person beneath. God sees without judgement let alone condemnation. When Jesus named Simon the Rock, he knew that Simon (or Peter) would waver and fail. He named him anyway.

Seeing and being seen are two sides of the same coin, each equally necessary in this life of faith. Being in relationship requires an openness to God such that we can see God (not our idea of God) in the world around us, in the lives of others and in our own lives. It also means having the courage to accept that (for good and for ill) we are truly seen and known by God.

Both are a terrifying prospect, but they lead to a deep and meaningful relationship that frees us to be ourselves and leads to the peace, joy and fulfillment that only a relationship with God can bring.

In solidarity with all humanity

January 11, 2020

Baptism of our Lord – 2020

Matthew 3:13-17

Marian Free

In the name of God, who in Jesus became fully human and identified fully with the human plight. Amen.

On page 126 of A Prayer Book for Australia you will find the confession and absolution, a form of which is also to be found on page 120. It is possible that (unlike me) you never pay attention to the words in red print (the rubrics as they are known). The rubrics provide information not only about the Liturgy, but about such variations as are permitted. Since 1978, instead of a long, threatening and terrifying exhortation to confession, the Prayer Book has offered an invitation (which changes according to the season). For the most part the Liturgical Assistant reads, “God is steadfast in love and infinite in mercy, welcoming sinners to the Lord’s Table. Let us confess our sins in penitence and faith, confident in God’s forgiveness.”

Those of you who do read the rubrics will notice that there is a suggestion that “silence may be observed”. The observant among you will also have noticed that in this Parish, we do not observe any such silence. I cannot be sure, but I imagine that the reason that silence is suggested is to allow for a moment of personal reflection. Certainly, that is how it seems to be observed in other Parishes. During my time at St Augustine’s we have not observed this practice. The reason for this not that I think that I, or we, have no need to reflect on our sinfulness, but because I do not believe that this is the place for individual introspection.

When we gather together for worship we do so as one body. Our prayer and our praise are collective. Holy Communion is exactly that: communion. It is an activity that we engage in collectively and not as individuals. If there is no one in the church with me, I cannot celebrate alone, for I would be celebrating isolationism not communion. The confession then is not an opportunity for each of us to drift off into our own heads and to count our own shortcomings, rather as the Book of Common Prayer makes clear: “Then shall this general Confession be made in the name of all those that are minded to receive the Holy Communion.” When we say together the General Confession, we are lamenting our collective sin, in particular our failure to love God with our whole heart and our neighbour as ourselves. We are not concerned at this point in time with whether or not we spoke harshly to someone yesterday or whether we are greedy or selfish.[1] Our individual sins are trivial compared to our collective and overarching sin of not giving ourselves wholly to God and to each other.

This may seem a roundabout way of approaching the subject of today’s gospel but, as I hope you will see, it is particularly pertinent to Matthew’s account of Jesus’ baptism by John. John’s baptism, as he has made perfectly clear, is a baptism of repentance, but so far as we know Jesus has no need to repent. An understanding of the General Confession helps us to begin to make sense of why the sinless Jesus comes to be baptised by John and what Jesus means when he says that he needs to be baptised “to fulfil all righteousness.”

To understand what is going on here, we have to remember that first century thought was very different from our own. Two things are important to note. First of all, baptism as a way of initiating people into the Jewish faith was not widely practiced (if it was practiced at all). Baptism (which if translated literally means to wash or dip) was not, as it is for us, a ritual of membership. On the other hand, washing as a means of ritual purification was widely practiced. Secondly, first century Judaism understood that God’s relationship was with Israel as a whole and not with individuals. (On the day of Atonement for example, the High Priest performed rituals in the Temple on behalf of all the nation.) Likewise the coming of the kingdom of heaven had nothing to do with individual salvation, but everything to do with the salvation of the nation. John’s call to repent then was directed, not at individuals, but with the people as a whole. In this sense, John’s call to repentance was much like our invitation to Confession – it was collective and not personal.

So, if Jesus does not need to repent and if baptism is not a form of initiation what is Jesus doing here? Jesus’ sinlessness or otherwise does not enter the equation, because the repentance John demands is not individual. John is hesitant to baptise Jesus not because he has no sin, but because John has recognised in Jesus the one who is more powerful than he, the one who “will baptise with the Spirit and with fire.” John knows that he himself needs this different and more powerful baptism that Jesus can offer.

Despite this, Jesus insists on being baptised because: “it is fitting to fulfil all righteousness.” We cannot read Jesus’ mind or know what he really meant by these words but – if we understand that John’s call to repent addressed the nation as a whole and if we see in the birth, life and death of Jesus, God’s desire to be fully human – we can deduce that by allowing John to baptise him, Jesus is identifying himself completely with the people of Israel – not standing aloof or apart from his countrymen and women, but becoming completely one with them and sharing a common humanity. Through his baptism he was showing his complete solidarity with them.

In the General Confession we show our solidarity, not only with one another in our sinfulness, but with the troubled world of which we are a part.

 

[1] You may remember the controversy that was played out a few years ago in the Roman Catholic Church. It was the practice in that tradition that anyone who wanted to receive communion would, before coming to church, make their confession before a priest. Rome was concerned that private confession was becoming less regular and that individuals were relying the General Confession that they made in Church as their preparation for communion.

 

Authentic leadership

January 4, 2020

Epiphany – 2020
Matthew 2:1-12
Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to trust God so that we can trust ourselves. Amen.

It all began at least 30 years ago when a friend gave me a Christmas card featuring the wise ones or the magi. “I chose it,” she said, “because the figures look like women.” Since then I have built up a small collection of Christmas cards and quotes featuring wise women – most of them humorous. One pictures three women mounted on camels bearing gifts of disposable nappies, a book on childcare and a voucher for a well-known baby store. A second has a stream of women stretching out into the distance. The caption reads, “Three wise men, 3,675,493 wise women.” Another reads, “Three Wise Women would have asked directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, swept the stable, made a casserole and brought practical gifts.”

While I enjoyed the humour on the cards I thought that the idea of wise women was an invention, or an aspiration of the women’s movement. It was when I was researching today’s sermon that I came across an article that suggested that women would have been in the caravan that sought out the ‘King of the Jews’. This led me to explore the matter further. It appears that there is good reason to believe that women might have been among those who came to worship Jesus. The “magi” (for that is the word in the Greek text) would probably have come from Persia or modern-day Iran. They were followers of Zoroastrianism – a faith system that is now in decline, but which was one of the precursors of Islam. Zoroastrian priests were well known for telling fortunes and preparing daily horoscopes and they believed that they could foretell miraculous births by reading the stars .Zoroastrianism allowed women to serve priests and women often travelled with their male counterparts . Indeed, the Old Testament precursor of this story is that of the Queen of Sheba who travelled from Ethiopia to see King Solomon bearing gifts fit for a King. It is not beyond the realms of possibility that women would have been among the magi.

The problem with Matthew’s all too brief account is that while he tells us that there were three gifts (the Queen of Sheba brought gold and spices), he does not specify how many magi there were, whether they were male or female or tell us that they were kings. That there were three, and that they were kings is our imaginative interpretation. Indeed, the word “magoi”, like the word “parent” can be used for either gender and the tradition that there were three derives from the number of gifts presented.

As long ago as 2004, the General Synod of the Church of England voted to retain Matthew’s word ‘magi’ rather than translate it with a word (or words) that were more easily understood. The argument for this was two-fold. The use of the translation “magi” was truer to Matthew’s intention. It retains the exotic nature of Jesus’ visitors and, as the word is inclusive, it allowed for the possibility that women were present.

Of course, it doesn’t really matter who the magi were, where they came from or how many there were. The significance of their brief appearance lies not so much in the mystery but in the dramatic tension their presence creates and the stark contrast between their reaction to the birth and that of Herod. Herod was not a legitimate king of the Jews, but one appointed by the despised Romans. For this and other reasons, he was held in low esteem by the majority of the Judeans. He was not even a Jew and was so insecure that he did not hesitate to put to death members of his own family if he thought that they might present competition for the throne. It is little wonder that when Herod heard of Jesus’ birth he was not filled with delight and anticipation, but with terror and a desire to crush or remove the threat that Jesus signified. It was not only Herod who was troubled. Everyone who depended on him for their wealth and position (“all Jerusalem” in fact) shared his concern and recognized the potential for disruption that an alternate king represented.

In contrast to Herod, the response of the magi was one of curiosity, reverence and awe. They did not seek to destroy the child; but travelled a great distance to worship him. Their authority and sense of self did not depend on external affirmation or legitimation. They knew who they were and were confident of their place in the world. As a result, the magi were comfortable in their own skin, they did not need to stand on ceremony, nor did they need to defend or protect their position and they were not threatened by competition (perceived or real). Their position in the world was not dependent on anyone else and it was not altered or compromised when they knelt and worshipped Jesus. In fact, their status was enhanced and amplified by their humility.

As such, the magi pre-figured the person that Jesus would be. Jesus would be a king who did not need to prove himself by competing with or destroying those who opposed him. He would be self-assured, certain of who he was and of his place in the world. He would not need others to legitimize him and he would not be easily upset by his enemies. Jesus would not be driven by fear to protect his position – or even his life – and his place in the universe would not be diminished by his humility let alone by his submission to death on the cross.

In contrast to Herod, the magi were confident of their place in the world, they did not depend on external legitimation or affirmation and were not threatened by competition.We live in a world in which there is an increasing sense of insecurity and an increasing reliance on leaders who are authoritarian and who disparage or demean any who dare to criticize or challenge them.

The magi were clear where true authority lay, may we have their self-assurance, their humility and their wisdom and that we will always chose the authentic over the showy, the secure over the insecure and those who choose to serve over those who are determined to dominate.

 

 

 

Falling from grace

December 28, 2019

Christmas 1 – 2019

Matthew 2:13-23

Marian Free

 In the name of God whose ways are not our ways and whose thoughts are not our thoughts. Amen

Recently I listened to an interview with Timothy Spall the actor who, among other achievements, played the part of the artist J.M.W. Turner in the movie of the same name. I first came across Spall when I watched the extraordinary 1996 movie Secrets and Lies in which he played the lead role. During the interview, he was asked to tell the story of why he missed going to Cannes for the showing of that movie. As he tells it, Spall was at that time experiencing a certain amount of lethargy and, thinking that it was exhaustion, he went to the doctor expecting to be given some sort of tonic or pick-me-up. Within days, while he was in the midst of filming an advertisement, Spall received a call from the doctors’ surgery asking him to come in. Not wanting to spare the time or to leave the filming halfway through he insisted on speaking with the doctor. The doctor also refused to share the news over the phone. When Spall presented at the surgery, he was informed that the cause of his tiredness was not overwork or poor diet, it was a particularly aggressive form of leukemia – acute myeloid leukemia. Had he not been diagnosed and immediately begun the treatment; he might have been dead by the end of the week! Instead of going to Cannes he went to hospital for chemotherapy.

The fact that he was being interviewed indicates that the cure was successful, but Spall’s story is a reminder of how quickly our lives can change. An accident, a diagnosis, a sick or dying child, a change in the world economy, falling victim to a scam, any number of things – whether of our our making or from completely unrelated events – can turn our lives and our fortunes upside down in a heartbeat.

As Matthew tells the story, such was the case with Jesus. His birth was facilitated by the Holy Spirit and heralded by an angel. A new star signalled his arrival. News of his birth reached the centre of power. Wise men or kings travelled a great distance to see him, to kneel before him and to give him gifts that were both rich and rare. This, Matthew leads us to believe was no ordinary child. He was born in the symbolically significant town of Bethlehem – the home of King David. As an infant he was recognized as King of the Jews and worshipped as God. Yet, barely had the wise men left, when Jesus and his family were forced to flee, not only the city, but the country. From being identified as royalty they became as fugitives. From having the world at their feet, they were forced to seek shelter from strangers. From being worshipped as God to being just another refugee fleeing cruelty and oppression. From having the power to strike fear into the heart of Herod and of Jerusalem to being completely powerless in the insignificant, barely known village of Nazareth. From being at the center of the Jewish world to being at its very edges, considered as little better than a Samaritan. Overnight Jesus and his family went from recognition to ignominy, renown to obscurity.

It was a dramatic turn of events, albeit one which has lost some of the impact in its retelling over the centuries. Unlike Luke for whom Jesus was born in a stable and revealed to the poor and lowly including shepherds, who were considered no better than thieves, Matthew places Jesus’ birth among the rich and powerful. Yet, hardly has he established Jesus’ credentials as king and God than he turns the story on its head. Jesus will not, as his beginning suggests, be identified with kings and rulers. He will in fact take his place among the most helpless and vulnerable of his community. Kings will not bow down before him, instead they will oppose him. His followers will not be the wise men from the east or even from among his own people, but the marginalised and the outcast, those with no status at all.

Jesus’ apparent fall from grace turns out to be anything but. As Matthew tells the story, everything that happened was going according to plan. Jesus is a king but, as the readers will come to see, he is a king like no other. Jesus is God, but as God he fully identifies with the plight of humanity to the point of becoming one of and one with them. Jesus’ change in circumstance is full of symbolic meaning that more fully spells out who and what he is, and, through the fulfillment passages, Matthew shows that God had seen how things would work out and that God’s hand had been with Jesus every step of the journey.

Life does not always work out the way that we hope and plan. Sometimes a curved ball is thrown in our direction and we have to re-think who we are, what we are doing and where we are going. At such times we must follow Joseph’s example and believe that, however bleak things appear, God is with us, guiding us through the darkness and helping us to accept and to work with the way things are. Sometimes, with hindsight, we will see that God has moved us through the pain and difficulty to where we were always meant to be.