Three in One God – Trinity Sunday

June 14, 2025

Trinity Sunday – 2025

John 16:12-15

Marian Free

In the name of God, Source of Life, God with us, Empowering Spirit. Amen.

A week or so ago when I was on retreat I read the book The Amen Effect: Ancient Wisdom to Mend our Broken Hearts and World by Sharon Brous. The book is a reflection on ministry and in particular the need to hold the tension between celebration and grief while honouring both. The author is a Jewish Rabbi who was the co-founder of IKAR an innovative Jewish community whose mission statement is “IKAR is a Jewish community rooted in ancient wisdom and inspired by the moral mandate to build a more just and loving world. We are dedicated to reimagining Jewish life through deep relationships and shared values, intellectual and spiritual curiosity, piety and irreverence, joy and defiant hope.” Based in Los Angeles the community numbers around 1000 members. 

As I read, I felt that everyone entering ministry or pastoral care should have a copy of the book to help them navigate the times of great joy and the times of deep sorrow that are part and parcel of community life. During her ministry, Brous has faced many challenging situations and reflects for example, on how she navigated the celebration of her son’s Bar Mitzva on a day following a particularly traumatic event in the life of another family in the community. Somehow she found a balance between acknowledging the family’s trauma while still allowing her son to celebrate an event for which, as a Rabbi’s son, he had been preparing all his life. Elsewhere she reflects on how one sits with the grief of a couple whose teenage children are killed in a car accident caused by a driver under the influence, and how over time that family were able to use their experience to reach out to others facing a similar loss. 

Throughout her ministry Brous has engaged her community – sharing her insights and learning from them. She has also learned the important lesson of caring for herself so that she is not drawing from an empty well. There is so much all of us can learn about the practice of faith from Brous and from her. community.

As the title suggests, Brous draws on a variety of ancient traditions, not only on her Jewish roots but of course her own tradition is what has fed and enlightened her through years of training and ministry. 

I am someone who is deeply moved by the wisdom of Jewish rabbis and in particular their approach to trauma and grief, and I have great respect for other religious traditions, but on reading the book I felt for the first time a sense of absence, the absence of the Holy Spirit in particular and of the Trinity in general.

The Trinity, while difficult for many of us to grasp, and even more difficult for us to put into words, expresses to me a fuller, rounder understanding of God, a God, who as Mike Morrell says is not alone but is community[1], and who, as community, draws us into relationship. For me, an understanding God who is integrally present through the Spirit and who is integrally part of human experience through Jesus is, to me, relatable, enlivening and welcoming and better still, gathers me into the Divine Dance of the three-person God. 

It is fascinating to think that our forebears, steeped in the Jewish faith, experienced the one God in such a new and a radical way. Long before our theologians had begun to come up with definitions and explanations of the Trinity, Paul, followed by the gospel writers, had begun to use language for God that incorporated what we now call the three persons of the Trinity. Take for instance this morning’s reading from Romans. Within just five verses Paul refers to God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Paul, who was born, lived and died a Jew, quite unselfconsciously uses God, Jesus and Holy Spirit interchangeably while at the same time not denying or negating a belief that there is only one God. Nor is this a one off, in Romans 8 God, Jesus (Lord/Son) and Spirit are again used as if they are one and the same. 2 Corinthians concludes: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.” Paul would have had no sense that he was abandoning the monotheism of his youth only that he had to find language to express his experience of God since Christ burst into his life.

Matthew’s gospel likewise references the Trinity when it concludes with what has become known as the great commission. Jesus tells the disciples to: “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” The association with what we now call Trinitarian language with baptism obviously existed in the church before the end of the first century and long before we began to put a name to and an explanation for the three-fold nature of the one God. 

And John who has consistently told the disciples that he and the Father are one, now. prepares his disciples for his departure by assuring them that the Spirit, who abides with the Father and the Son will be his continuing presence on earth. He makes no attempt to explain how God can be Father, Son and Spirit, he simply assumes that this language will speak to his reader’s experience of God. 

Of course, I do not know how I would relate to God had I not been brought up in a Christian family in a Christian environment. But, that being my experience, I rejoice in the three-fold God who is at the same time one, whose tri-fold nature embraces and holds me and whose different persons speak to different times and situations of my life.


[1] I’ve quoted this before but it is worth repeating.

ONE alone

      Is not by nature Love,

                  or Laugh,

                  or Sing

ONE alone

      may be prime mover,

                  Unknowable,

                  Indivisible,

                  All

And if Everything is All and All is One

       One is alone

       Self-Centred

                  Not Love

                  Not Laugh

                  Not Sing

TWO

      Ying/Yang 

       Dark/Light

        Male/Female

                  Contending  Dualism

                       Affirming Evil/Good

                       And striving toward Balance

      At best Face-to-Face

                  But never Community

THREE

    Face-to-Face-to-Face

                  Community

                  Ambiguity

                  Mystery

    Love for the Other

                  And for the Other’s Love

Within

      Other-Centred

       Self-giving

                  Loving

                  Singing

                  Laughter

                      A fourth is created

                           Ever-loved and loving.

(Forword to The Divine Dance: The Trinity and Your Transformation. Richard Rohr with Mike Morrell, USA: Whitaker House, 2016.)

Pentecost – not as orphans

June 9, 2025

Pentecost – 2025

John 14:8-27)

Marian Free

In the name of God who inflames, inspires and encourages us. Amen.

Hallelujah! not as orphans,

are we left in sorrow now;

Halleljah! He is near us, 

faith believes nor questions how;

So goes the second verse of the hymn: “Hallelujah! sing to Jesus.” For me, these words bring to mind fond memories of my church-going childhood. I’m not sure why but the words, “not as orphans”, really struck a chord in the young Marian. For some reason the notion of not being abandoned, not being left alone made a powerful impression.  The words had a similar effect to being gathered up in a warm embrace or wrapped in a soft blanket – God might be an amorphous and vague notion, but somehow the fact that God would not leave me orphaned gave God some sort of shape or form. I was also taken with the phrase “faith believes nor questions how.” I’d be quite sure that even then I didn’t think of faith as being blind acceptance of implausible ideas, but, young as I was I had some understanding of faith as mystery.

Of course, I had no idea in my childhood that the hymn writer was quoting the words from John 14 that we heard in this morning’s gospel. “I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you” (14:15).

Chapters 14 -17 of John’s gospel are known as Jesus’ farewell speech. Jesus has had what will be his final meal with his disciples, Judas has been sent off to “do what he is going to do” and Jesus has begun to prepare his disciples for his departure. We know that this means his crucifixion, but his disciples are confused and anxious, especially as Jesus continues his pattern of speaking in apparent riddles. “Where I am going you cannot come” (13:33). “I go to prepare a place for you.” “No one comes to the Father except through me.”

At least three key themes run through the Farewell Discourse and in our reading this morning. One is that of love. Jesus gives the disciples a new commandment – to love one another (13:34), those who love Jesus will keep his commandments (14:15),  those who have Jesus’ commandments are those who love him and are loved by the father (14:20) and those who love Jesus will keep his word, the Father will love them and with Jesus, will come and make a home with them (14:23). 

This expressions last draws on another thread – that of the indwelling of the Father and the Son – a mutual indwelling that is extended to each one of us, an indwelling that is supported by and held together through love and which is enhanced by the third member of the Trinity – the Holy Spirit, the third person of the Trinity whom Jesus will send to the disciples (the third theme). 

In the midst of their confusion and grief, Jesus assures the disciples of his ongoing presence with them – the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, the Spirit of truth who, with the Father and the Son will abide in those who love him. 

This concept of mutual indwelling is a very different picture of the Spirit from that presented by Luke in the Book of Acts in which the Spirit rushes upon the disciples from without. The writer of John’s gospel understands the Holy Spirit not so much as an external force that enlivens and empowers, but rather as a deep awareness of the presence of God within and a willingness to allow all one’s own desires and needs to be caught up within the Trinity[1] – God the Trinity in us and we in God. Jesus is one with God and God’s presence is made visible through Jesus, so we, through love, can be absorbed into the divine, and allow the divine in us to shine through us.

As Jesus continues speaking, we learn that the Jesus of John’s gospel is confident that those to whom he is speaking will  be able to let go of their egos and, being free of their egos will be open to the prompting of the Spirit who will remind them of all that Jesus has taught them and who will guide them into all truth (16:12). 

That Jesus’ confidence was misplaced has been demonstrated over and over again throughout the centuries. As the gospel spread and communities of believers formed, so different agendas, priorities and egos began to dominate what became the church. Instead of being one as Jesus prayed (17:22), believers have become fractured and divided into a multitude of communities at least some of whom claim exclusive possession of the truth.  Throughout the centuries the church has become side-tracked; worrying more about right and wrong, who is in and who is out, what is correct worship and what is not. The practice of self-denial has become a practice of going without physical things rather than a practice of denying the self so that the Spirit can direct and control our individual and collective lives. The idealism of John’s Jesus has been buried under human self-interest, a human need to have clear boundaries; rules and regulations rather than to trust in the Holy Spirit to guide us into all truth.

Jesus’ continued presence through the Holy Spirit does ensure that we are not left orphaned, but his hope that we would be one as he and the Father are one, his desire that we should experience the mutual indwelling with himself, the Father and the Spirit remains an unrealised dream.


[1] Of course, “Trinity” is not John’s language, but our attempt to explain the indwelling of Father, Son and Spirit.

Being one with God

May 31, 2025

Easter 7 – 2025

John 17:20-26

Marian Free

In the name of God in whom we live and breathe and have our being. Amen.

I love learning new words, so you can imagine how excited I was when, doing some reading to try to make sense of today’s gospel, I came across not one, but three new words! Sadly, unlike vituperative or egregious or vertiginous I’m unlikely to use these words in any other context. 

You will remember that three weeks ago I explained that John’s gospel is circular, layered, and repetitive. I failed to mention that the author of the fourth gospel is also very sparing with his vocabulary. John only needs 1011 words to tell the story of Jesus’ life. These words are repeated over and again (making it one of the easiest gospels to read in the original Greek). John’s limited vocabulary is deceiving. Many of the words have double meanings and where John uses different Greek words (for love and sheep in chapter 21) there is no intended difference in meaning. (Jesus wants to know that Peter loves him and will feed his sheep.)

The repetition of key words and themes makes the message of John relatively easy to understand. Jesus is light and life and his desire is to draw people to the light and give them life. That Jesus is one with God is made clear from the beginning and is emphasised in statements like “The Father and are one,” and “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father.” This relationship is also referred to as “abiding in” – a phrase that is repeated 40 times and is used not only for the Father and the Son,  but is extended to the disciples.

My new words for whom I thank Chelsea Harmon and Bruce Malina are “antilanguage”, “relexicalization” and “overlexicalization.”[1] Whether they were created to describe the phenomena found in John or whether they preexisted the literary study of same I did not try to find out, but they do help us to understand John’s use of language.

“Antilanguage” is an expression to describe the “in-language” of a particular group. This is language that is employed to make it clear that the group in question is distinct from the culture in which it finds itself. It serves the purpose of creating a sense of cohesion within the group and of keeping outsiders (among whom we belong out.

“Relexicalization” and “overlexicalization” are techniques used in antilanguage, understanding provides a key to understanding the code. 

“Relexicalization” (as the word implies) refers to using familiar words in a new way – giving them a meaning that is unique to the group. Perhaps the most obvious word in this category is the word “or glory. John uses  “δοξα” to mean the glory that is associated with God, and which therefore is present in Jesus and but also, paradoxically, uses it to refer to Jesus’ crucifixion – Jesus ‘victory over the devil. The Johannine Jesus also gives new meaning (spiritualises if you will) words like water, bread, light and life.

The concept of oneness as used by John is expressed in a variety of ways. In order to categorise this we need the expression: “overlexicalisation” – that is the use of a cluster or words or phrases to express the same concept. “Being one” is also expressed by “believing in/into” Jesus, “following Jesus”, “abiding in” him, “loving him”, “keeping his word”, “receiving’ him, “having” him or “seeing him”.  

Where does this academic approach to the gospel leave us? It is a reminder that not only are we separated by centuries from the origins of the gospel and of the community that it represents, but we are reassured that those aspects of the gospel that puzzle us, were intended to puzzle us. Those for whom the gospel was written, believed that they had special and unique insight into the teachings of Jesus and that those who didn’t share those insights – Jew or Christian – were destined to remain outsiders. If some things about the gospel are opaque to us, the gospel has succeeded. To that community we are the outsiders, those without the insights unique to the community. 

That said, these concepts of “antilanguage”, “relexicalisatiton” and “overlexicalisation” provide us with tools for understanding, give us a window into the gospel and help us to break down the barriers that were created to protect its and its community’s sense of uniqueness. 

Today’s gospel expresses Jesus’ hope that the disciples may have the same relationship with God that he has. This relationship revealed in glory and demonstrated in love and unity will convince the world that the believers are in God, and God is in them. John’s concept of a privileged and exclusive relationship is not one that we would want to adapt but this gospel informs us that Jesus reveals the union with God which is the purpose and privilege of all human existence. The oneness, the glory and the love that Jesus shares with the Father is freely given to each of us. 

The goal of faith as taught by the writer of John’s gospel is that we are to allow ourselves to be so subsumed by the presence of God within us and caught up in the unity of the Godhead that people who see us see God. If we are truly united to God the glory of God will shine through us and the love God has for us will be the love we have for one another.

In the words of Athanasius: God became human so that humans might become God. 

What do we have to relinquish in order that God’s glory and love might be known through us?


[1] https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/seventh-sunday-of-easter-3/commentary-on-john-1720-26-6

Do you want to be made well?

May 24, 2025

Easter 6 – 2025

John 5:1-9

Marian Free

In the name of Christ who came that we might have life and have it in abundance. Amen.

“Do you want to be made well?” The invalid in today’s gospel has been unwell for 38 years – an enormous amount of time in any century, but an extraordinary length of time in a period when the average life span was around 30 years! There is no indication how long the man actually enjoyed good health or what his problem was. Perhaps he was born with an unnamed frailty. Regardless, for 38 years the invalid has been dependent on others for his existence – for food, for clothing, for shelter, and as he says, for help to get him into the healing waters of the pool.

“Do you want to be made well?” In all the gospels no one else is asked such a rude and intrusive question. Often Jesus is asked for healing, or he simply assumes that someone wants to receive healing and there is no interaction at all. Jesus isn’t always directly involved. The woman with a haemorrhage merely reaches out and touches Jesus’ cloak and healing flows from him to her. Jesus never asks whether a person deserves healing or not nor does he demand that the person seeking healing has faith.  On the one occasion on which he might have withheld healing, he allows the Canaanite woman to convince him that her daughter is as worthy of healing as any other. 

“Do you want to be made well?” Of all the people waiting for the water to move, Jesus approaches this one man. He doesn’t ask about the man’s condition, doesn’t say who he is, doesn’t engage in small talk – just asks one direct question. “Do you want to be made well?” The answer would appear to be self-evident – of course someone whose life had been limited and marred by frailty would want to be made well.

“Do you want to be made well?” Instead of giving a resounding “yes”, the man becomes defensive. “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.” In other words, he is implying that his continued incapacity is everyone else’s fault but his own. Jesus is offering healing but what the invalid really wants is pity!

Jesus has touched a sore spot, forcing the man to ask himself what he really wants.  No doubt man thought that he had no choice, or maybe – at least subconsciously – he had understood that there were some advantages to being unwell. Thirty-eight years is a very long time, long enough for someone to get used to the situation, long enough to be resigned to this way of life, long enough to be unsure that an alternative way of life could be better. The man’s life may seem limited and impoverished from our point of view but that he was still alive after 38 years suggests that he was receiving sufficient support to live whether from his family or from strangers.

 If he were to be made well he would have to take responsibility for himself – find work and somewhere to live, he would be expected to marry, to have and support children of his own. He may have had no skills to earn a living or to reintegrate himself back into a society from which he has been absent for so long. He may have become used to the sympathy and attention that his condition afforded him and, in a world in which most people lived on or below the poverty line, begging may have been as good a way of earning a living as any other. In much the same way that a prisoner who has become used to prison – its routines, and the protection it offers – commits a crime in order to return, so our invalid appears to have become so used to his life that he can see no better way of living.

“Do you want to be made well?” “Are you living your best life?” “Are you making the best of your present circumstances?” “Are you using your God-given gifts to the best of your abilities?’

These are questions Jesus might be posing to any of us who have allowed ourselves to become so comfortable in our present situations that we see no need to change, to any of us who have turned down opportunities because we could not predict the consequences, or because we were worried about what we might have to leave behind, or to any of us who have drawn boundaries around ourselves that limit our growth and our experiences.

“Do you want to be made well?” Jesus wants us to live our best lives, to be and to do all that is possible with the gifts we have been given and the opportunities with which we have been provided.  He does not want us to be bound by people and things that do not need to be limitations.

“Do you want to be made well?” Jesus takes no notice of the invalid’s excuses. He can see the possibilities that await a man restored to health, to strength, to his family and his society. He can see, that despite the potential difficulties, the man’s life will be fuller, richer and happier if he stops making excuses, if he steps out in faith, if he believes that God does and will be with him. So, without waiting for an affirmative answer, he orders the man to: “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” Without hesitation, the man does just that.

“Do you want to be made well?” Do you trust that God knows your potential and has your well-being at heart?                                                       Stand up, take your mat and walk.

Revelation – a book for our times?

May 17, 2025

Easter 5 – 2025

Revelation 21:1-6

Marian Free

In the name of God in whose hands is our future and the future of the world. Amen.

Can you believe that nearly one quarter of the 21st. century has already passed? 24 ½ years ago the news was filled with stories of impending disasters, in particular that all the computers would crash and with them all of the infrastructure that they ran. Some people were busy building supplies of water and tinned food in preparation for the expected a destruction of the world. Others were predicting the sort of chaos depicted in The Book of Revelation – especially in relation to the release of Satan after 1,000 years of captivity.  (Indeed the 1000 years has taken on a meaning of its own, despite the fact that judgement did not rain down and the world was not destroyed at the beginning of the 11th century.)

The Book of Revelation is responsible for a great deal of fearmongering, predictions of dire judgement and the end of the world. Most of us can probably remember the anxiety that many people felt when the first credit cards were released – the three nested ‘b’s’ being taken for 666 –  the number of the beast in Revelation. 

Revelation or the Apocalypse of John is the most controversial and confusing book of the Bible. So controversial that it was not definitively included in our scriptures until the year 367 and even now many people choose to avoid it because it is so difficult.  Apart from these few weeks it has no part in our lectionary. The book is filled with fantastic images, lurid descriptions of God’s punishment and impenetrable symbolism. In other words, it seems to be completely incomprehensible and beyond rational belief. 

To some extent that is true, but it is also a book that to some extent is written in code and when one understands that code it becomes much easier to understand. In simple terms the Book describes a cosmic battle between good and evil, in which good is the victor. It is not intended to be a history, but it is based in a time and place and like prophetic literature. It is not intended as a prediction of what will happen in the future but rather a commentary on the current situation. Whereas prophetic literature warned about the consequences of continuing in the current (godless) course of action,  apocalyptic literature is designed to provide hope in situations in which the godly feel victimized and abandoned. 

Typically, apocalyptic theology arises at times when people are feeling the weight of oppression and injustice. It addresses the apparent flourishing of evil and assures the faithful that their persecutors will get their just desserts (while they, the faithful, will be rewarded for their suffering and endurance).

The Book of Revelation was written specifically for the seven churches addressed in the first few chapters. It appears that members of these churches were experiencing some sort of persecution, even martyrdom, but also that their initial enthusiasm for the faith was diminishing. While there was no wide-scale persecution at this time, believers were often isolated – from families, prevented from earning a living, and may have suffered some attacks from their neighbours and fellow citizens. The enduring power of Rome, its decadence and corruption will have been a source of angst and confusion to believers and on top of this there may have been a very real danger of war as armies gathered in the east.

In this climate, the author of Revelation writes to encourage and reassure the faithful and to warn the backsliders. John insists that God is on the side of believers and that good will win in the end. Consistent with other apocalyptic writings, the author also describes in great detail what God will do to backsliders or to those who oppose God and who persecute or oppress the faithful. This does not mean that all who do not believe will be destroyed. Revelation is a call to repentance – the threatened destruction will not affect those who return to God.

While the book appears to be totally chaotic, various commentators have pointed out that the book is extraordinarily well-structured. Michael Fallon[1] for example demonstrates that the Book is divided into seven scenes, the first five of which are bordered by descriptions of heaven.  Schüssler Fiorenza argues that the Book follows a concentric pattern around a central core. Both understand chapter 10 a fulcrum, it looks back to themes mentioned earlier in the book (things which are hidden) and forward to the end (things which are exposed). 

As I have mentioned, Revelation is filled with symbolism and patterns, which make more sense if one understands the code. For example, there are seven letters, each of which follow a similar pattern and include a reference to description of the Son of Man with which the Book begins. In each there is a greeting, a reference to the description of Jesus, a commendation, a rebuke, a call to repentance or a warning, a prophetic saying, a promise of Christ’s speedy coming, an exhortation to hold fast, a call to listen and finally promise to the broader community that those who conquer will be rewarded. The letters are followed by four sets of seven plagues which again follow a pattern – persecution, judgement and victory.

That the book is not meant to be taken literally is evidenced by the seven plagues – each of which threatens to destroy the whole world. The repetition is simply for effect – it is impossible to destroy the world once it has been destroyed. Another clue that the book is not literal is the future reference to the birth of Jesus in chapter 12. Readers of the book would understand that Jesus had already been born.

Which brings me briefly to today’s reading. Revelation ends as it begins with Jesus as the first and the last, the Alpha and Omega. Before that the recipients are assured that not only will God triumph in the end, but that all things will be renewed and that those who hold firm will see an end to sorrow, pain and dying, and that God, who has never abandoned them will wipe their tears from their eyes.

The message of Revelation is that no matter how bad things are, no matter how much suffering we might endure, God will be the victor, and God will restore all things and will bring us to Godself. 

Understood properly, The Book of Revelation is not an archaic, incomprehensible, irrelevant piece of scripture but a message for our own turbulent times.

*************************

NOTES

Some code breakers.

The use of numbers. Seven as you know is the number for perfection (seven days of the week) and by contrast 31/2 (42 months) is the number for imperfection. There were twelve tribes of Israel and 12 Apostles. Twelve is the number for completeness. Four relates to the four. Corners of the world and the four elements, it relates to totality.  There are seven churches, seven letters, seven plagues, the Lamb has 7 horns and 7 eyes and there are seven spirits. The number admitted to heaven – 144000 12x12x1000 – is symbolic not literal. The four sets of seven plagues implies total destruction. The four faced creatures – lion, ox, human and eagle -represent the noblest, the strongest, the wisest and the swiftest. 666, the number which to some holds so much weight, is the number represented by the Hebrew spelling of Nero. (There was a popular belief that Nero would be resurrected and wreak terror on the land.)

Colours are also significant – gold signifies divinity, white – purity, red-war, black- plague and pale green-death.

Structure

1:1-8 Prologue and Epistolary Greeting

                  1:1-3 Title

                  1:4-6 Greetings

                  1:7-8 Motto

1:9-3:22 Rhetorical Situation in the Cities of Asia Minor

                  1:9-10 Author and Situation

                  1:11-20 Prophetic Inaugural Vision

I                 1:1-3:22 Prophetic message to seven communities

4:1-9:21, 11:15-19 Opening the Sealed Scroll

                  4:1-5:14 Heavenly Court and the sealed scroll

II               6:1-8:1 Cosmic Plagues – Seven Seals

III              8:2-9:21; 11:15-19 Cosmic Plagues – Seven Trumpets

10:1-15:4 The Bitter-sweet Scroll: “War against the community”

                  10:1-11:14 Prophetic commissioning

                  12:1-14:5 Prophetic interpretation

                  14:6-15:4 Eschatological liberation

C’ 15:5-19:10 Exodus from the Oppression of Babylon/Rome

IV             15:5- 16:21 Cosmic plagues – seven bowls

                  17:1-18 Rome and its Power

                  18:1-19:10 Judgement of Rome

B’ 19:11-22:9 Liberation from Evil and God’s World-City

                  19:11-20:15 Liberation from the powers of evil

                  21:1-8 The liberated world of God

                  21:9-22:9 The different cosmopolis of God

A’ 22:10-21 Epilogue and Epistolary Frame

                  22:1-7 Revelatory Sayings

                  22:8-21 Epistolary Conclusion[2]

a. Introduction                                                                      1:1-3

b. Opening liturgical dialogue                                 1:4-8

c. Prophetic commission                                            1:9-11

                  Heaven

Scene 1 Letters to the 7 churches                      2:1-3:22

                  Heaven                                                                       4:1-5:14

Scene 2 Six seals are broken                                                     6:1-7:9

                  Heaven                                                                       7:9-8:6                  

Scene 3 The sounding of six trumpets            8:7-11:14

                  Heaven                                                                       11:15-12:12

Scene 4 Forces for good and for evil                 12:13-14:20

                  Heaven                                                                       15:1-8

Scene 5 The seven bowls                                            16:1-18:24

                  Heaven                                                                       19:1-10

Scene 6 The final struggle, victory                      19:11-20:15

                  and judgement                                 

Scene 7 The Church of God on earth                21:1-22:5

                  a. guarantee of prophecy                          22:6-7

                  b. Concluding liturgical dialogue       22:8-17

                  c. Conclusion                                                       22:18-21


[1] Fallon, Michael. The Apocalypse: A Revelation that History is Graced. Sydney: Parish Ministry Publications, 1990.

[2] Schussler-Fiorenza, Elisabeth. Revelation: Vision of a Just World. Minneapolis:Fortress Press, 1991, 35-36.

Divisive Shepherd

May 13, 2025

Easter 4 – 2025

John 10:22-30

Marian Free

In the name of God, mysterious, unknowable, unreachable and yet revealed in Jesus. Amen.

Our post Easter season is typically divided into two parts, post resurrection accounts of meetings with Jesus and the promise of the spirit. In the middle, on the fourth Sunday of Easter we mark Good Shepherd Sunday. Over the course of three years, we cover most of John chapter 10 in which Jesus spells out what it means to be shepherd and sheep. The imagery is deceptively simple and heart-warming. I suspect that most of us have been brought up with lovely stories of 1st century Middle Eastern shepherds often accompanied by illustrations of Jesus carrying a white fluffy lamb over his shoulder. 

I say deceptively simple because this chapter, like the rest of John’s gospel, is complex and multi-layered. It is filled with themes and illusions that permeate the gospel and has hidden depths which are easy to overlook if we focus on the superficial imagery of the shepherd. 

John’s gospel stands alone in style and content.  It seems to stir within us something deep and mysterious. It is filled with images that are not always fully spelled out, it demands a knowledge of Judaism that can no longer be taken for granted, it is repetitive and circular as if wanting to be sure that the reader really understands, and yet at the same time it speaks in riddles as if to cloud the meaning from all but a few.

Chapter 10 and the verses we have read this morning serve as a case in point. The content is repetitive, and indirect and it repeats and reinforces themes already referenced in the gospel. The author also assumes a knowledge of Jewish festivals and an insight into his purpose in referencing them.  

The repetitive and circular nature of the gospel is evident in the ways in which the central theme of shepherd is drawn out. The shepherd is compared variously to a thief, a stranger of a hired hand, those who came before him, and even a gate. Jesus is the Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for the sheep and who will ensure that they have abundant life. Other themes such as life, doing the works of the Father and being one with the Father are peppered throughout the gospel and the theme of Jesus’ voice recurs in Magdalene’s recognition of Jesus’ in the garden.

“At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem”.  What appears to us to be a reference to a time and place has a much deeper significance for the author of this gospel. From this and other references to the Temple and Jewish festivals, we can discern that indirectly John is making the claim that in the person of Jesus all the Jewish Festivals have Jewish festivals have come to their full end – their purposes have been fulfilled. Jesus has made them redundant. 

As the Bread from heaven Jesus replaces the manna in the wilderness, as the light of the world and the living water, Jesus takes the place of the symbols of the Feast of Tabernacles. [That Jesus is crucified on the eve of Passover, suggests that he has replaced the Passover Lamb. Even the Sabbath is replaced as Jesus’ heals on the Sabbath and thus redefines its meaning and purpose.] The Festival of Dedication celebrated the rededication of the Temple. John’s reference here is less a reference to the season and more an indication that Jesus has replaced the Temple. In all these not-so-subtle ways, John is making it clear that worship of the one God can continue without Temple and the Temple rituals – that faith in and worship of Jesus has taken their place.

John’s Jesus can be obtuse and frustrating. His answers to direct questions are often riddles, designed to make one think if not to confuse. Think of his response to Nicodemus – “you must be born from above” and today, when his questioners ask him to tell them plainly, he irritatingly replies: “I have told you and you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep.” Hardly a helpful response from people who seem to genuinely want to know who he is. It is as if he wants to push them away not draw them in.

The question of Jesus’ identity is another key theme in John’s gospel. While on the one hand John’s Jesus refuses to be specific about his identity, on the other, the author  makes it very clear to the readers who he is. “The Father and I are one,” Jesus says. Over and over again, the fourth gospel makes this same claim. “If you have seen me you have seen the Father.” “I and the Father are one.” [With one exception in Matthew, nowhere else are the Father and Son presented as a unity.]

The Shepherding imagery is an extension of Jesus’ identification with God. The imagery of God as shepherd has its roots n the Old Testament – especially in the Psalms and Ezekiel 34.

Another theme, introduced here and developed in the imagery of the vine is that of belonging. Those who know Jesus’ voice will follow him. (10:4), those who belong to the fold will listen to Jesus’ voice (10:16) and “his sheep know his voice” (10:27). John’s gospel can be read as divisive and exclusive. The dualism expressed therein – light/dark, life/perishing, flesh/spirit, above/below those who know/do not know my voice – can be read in the sense that despite the claim that God loves the world, God seems to want to separate those who are in from those who are out, worse, that we can establish boundaries to determine whom to include and whom to exclude. The opposite in fact is true. While John’s gospel does make a clear distinction between those who follow Jesus and those who do not, it also makes it clear that those who do not belong are those who choose not to belong those who self-select to be outside the fold, those whose reaction to Jesus reveals something of their true nature, those who cannot bear to be exposed to the light (3:21).

All of this is a stark reminder that we should not be content with the comforting, the heart-warming, superficial shepherding Jesus, nor should we be complacent about John’s divisive, exclusionary language. John’s gospel reveals that there is time and space before Jesus and a time and space after Jesus. There is a plain-speaking Jesus who is comforting and inclusive and an indirect Jesus who will not give us easy answers to those too lazy to see what is in front of them. There is the divisive Jesus in whose presence we see who we are and are forced to make the decision as to whether or not we belong and whether or not we want to belong. 

Our reaction to Jesus determines whether or not we belong.

Do you love me?

May 3, 2025

Easter 3 – 2025

John 21:1-19

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who meets us where we are and asks only that we love in return.  Amen.

I have just finished reading an extraordinary book, A Terrible Kindness, by Jo Browning Wroe. It tells the tale of one William Lavery who is the son of a funeral director and who is gifted with a beautiful voice. William’s father dies when he is quite young, and his mother reacts by withdrawing from his father’s brother who is his partner in the funeral business. William receives a place in a choral school in Cambridge where he meets the exuberant Martin with whom he becomes firm friends. On the night when William is due to sing The Misère – what would have been the high point of his time in Cambridge -something awful happens and he cannot sing. He blames his mother, leaves the college, forswears singing, moves in with his uncle, and, as soon as he is old enough he trains to be an embalmer.

 

In Aberfan, Wales, a colliery spoil tip collapsed swallowing up homes and the local school. One hundred and forty people died including 116 children. In the novel, William, who has just completed his training, volunteers to prepare the dead for their funerals. Wroe describes this event with great sensitivity and also its impact on her fictional character William who is deeply traumatised by the sight of so many small, crushed bodies and determines never to have children. His girlfriend, Gloria insists that she will marry him even with that caveat.

 

The early death of his father, his mother’s coolness towards his uncle, an awkward moment with Martin, and the tragedy at Aberfan lead William to make a number of disastrous choices – he cuts off his mother, turns his back on Martin, gives up his love of choral music and finally leaves Gloria who has been steadfast in her love, her understanding and support.

 

What is extraordinary, and what I didn’t fully notice until I had finished reading the book was the unconditional love that William received from all the other characters. His abandoned mother leaves the door open for a reunion, his uncle and partner take him in and never chide him for his hardness of heart, Martin (who is deeply hurt by William’s betrayal and desertion) doesn’t reproach him when they meet again years later, and Gloria allows William back into her life when he comes to his senses. Unlike William, not one of the characters has built up a grudge that would prevent them from welcoming him back into their lives.

 

As I say, the author does labour this point, it is just how she tells the story, but when I read this morning’s gospel it seemed to me that deliberately or not, she had drawn a compelling account of unconditional love, much like the love Jesus extends to Peter in this morning’s gospel.

 

If you remember, Peter who had been adamant that he would not abandon Jesus, even that he would lay down his life for Jesus (Jn 13:17), not only abandoned him to face Pilate alone, but denied three times that he even knew him. In this, the last of John’s resurrection appearances, Jesus prepares breakfast for his friends – all of whom had vanished into the night when he was arrested. After the resurrection the disciples who were at a loose end, decided to go fishing. When they were returning to shore empty handed the Beloved Disciple recognised Jesus on the beach. Immediately Peter leapt out of the boat and waded to shore. He was delighted to see Jesus and is obviously confident that Jesus was not holding his failures against him.

 

Indeed Jesus, who has already appeared to the disciples, shows no indication that he in any way holds them accountable for their desertion, nor Peter for his denial. What Jesus does, is to enable Peter to affirm his love for Jesus. Much has been made of the three questions and the use of different Greek words for love[1] but what seems to be key here is that Jesus is giving primacy to relationship over cowardice. Jesus understands human frailty and his prediction of Peter’s denials demonstrate how well he knew his disciples. In this, his final act, Jesus doesn’t ask Peter to repent, he doesn’t try to make Peter accountable, and he certainly doesn’t withdraw from Peter his unconditional love. What Jesus does do, is to remind Peter of Peter’s love for Jesus. Instead of breaking the relationship, Jesus asks Peter to remember the relationship – a relationship which, from Jesus’ side is constant and unbreakable.

 

As in the novel, William comes to his senses and returns to bask in the love of those on whom he has turned his back, so Peter is fully brought back to himself by having to remind himself three times that (despite his denials) he does love Jesus.

 

Our gospel accounts of the life of Jesus finish with this extraordinary reminder – that we are loved by God wholeheartedly, unconditionally and endlessly, and that no matter what we do, or how far we stray, we will still be loved, if only we can recall how much we love God. God created us for love therefore we are loveable and who are we to de y ourselves or anyone else of that love? God’s love does not demand that we are flawless, it leaves no room for self-reproach, and draws from us the love God seeks in return.

 

“Do you love me?” “Yes, Lord I do.”

 

 

 


[1] Michael Lattke, my Phd supervisor argues that there is no deeper meaning to the use of different words.

Remember- Jesus’ resurrection body

April 26, 2025

Easter 2 – 2025

John 20:19-31

Marian Free

In the name of God who in Jesus touched and was touched. Amen.

During Jesus’ last week in Jerusalem, his last week of being physically present on earth, his friend Mary anointed his feet with expensive ointment and wiped them with her hair – an act of touch so intimate that it is almost embarrassing to contemplate. A few days later the tables are reversed when (in the middle of a meal) Jesus gets up and washes and dries the feet of his disciples (another intimate, boundary breaking act). Having one’s feet cradled and smoothed by another creates a strong contrast with the way in which Jesus’ body was brutally flogged, cruelly crowned and horrifically nailed to the cross.  

These accounts, gentile and loving, cruel and hateful, tell us that Jesus inhabited a real body, that he had a physical, earthly presence that could be fed and starved, alone and pressed in upon, gently wiped andpitilessly hammered.  

It is interesting to note that many of the resurrection accounts continue this theme of Jesus’ physical presence.  Not only could Jesus be seen by the disciples, but he could eat, and he could touch and be touched. Apart from Mark whose ending is very abrupt, each gospel includes an account which emphasises the physicality of the risen Jesus. According to Matthew, the women hold Jesus’ feet, likewise in John, Magdalene reaches out to touch Jesus. In Luke’s gospel, Jesus sits down to a meal and breaks bread in front of the unsuspecting disciples. When Jesus returns to Jerusalem and appears to the disciples he not only invites them to touch (to prove that he is not a ghost), but he asks for something to eat and is given fish which he eats in their presence (Lk 24:42,3).  Here, in John, when Jesus breaks in to the locked room, he demands that the disciples look at the scars in his hands and feet. When Jesus appears a second time to appease Thomas, he not only shows scars, but invites JThomas to touch.

Of course, we have no idea of the nature of Jesus’ resurrection body. Even though it is reported that he could be touched and that he could eat, he could apparently appear out of nowhere and transport himself through time and space (Luke 24). Given that the stories were retold many times before the evangelists committed them to paper, we cannot be sure how much (or how little the stories) were embellished. However, we can be absolutely certain that in some way that is impossible to explain or even understand, Jesus, who was declared dead on a Friday afternoon, was very much alive from early Sunday morning.

The nature of Jesus’ resurrection body has been a matter for much scholarly debate, but I don’t want to focus on that today. This morning, I would like to reflect on the evangelists’ emphasis on Jesus’ physicality and the possibility that means something other than a need to prove that Jesus really did rise.

As I pondered on the texts that we have read over the past few weeks and as I considered the importance of the fleshly physical nature of Jesus’ earthly body, I wondered if one of the reasons for emphasising this in the post-resurrection appearances was to make sure that we didn’t forget, that we didn’t/don’t allow ourselves to spiritualise Jesus, that we don’t somehow put the earthly Jesus at one remove from us, that we don’t diminish his humanity and focus instead on his divinity. 

Do the gospels focus on touch in the week leading up to the resurrection and in the post-resurrection accounts to make sure that in the centuries following these events that we would never lose sight of the fleshly, physicality of Jesus’ earthly body? Is their emphasis on touch a way of ensuring that we do not make the risen Jesus remote and untouchable, unable to relate to our experiences of hunger and being fed, exhaustion and being rested, sorrow and joyfulness?

Is it even possible that Jesus himself emphasised the physical so that we would remember that he knew what it was like to suffer, to fear and to be abandoned. Did Jesus appear in a physical body to ensure that we would remember that he was once one of us and that just as he was real, so too we should be real. Jesus’ fleshly, physicality resurrection presence is a constant reminder that being human, having human needs and responding with human emotions is not something of which to be ashamed.

If we spiritualise Jesus, deny the physicality of his resurrection body, we are in danger of making him into someone with whom we cannot identify, someone other than us. We face the real danger that by spiritualising him we create a divine figure whose standards of perfection we can never reach.

Maybe, just maybe, Jesus’ resurrected body could touch and was touched, so that we would never lose sight of his earthly body.

Maybe Jesus is saying: “I was real, I was here, I was just like you.  Remember, remember, remember.”

A matter of touch (or not) – Christ is risen

April 19, 2025

Easter Day – 2025

Luke 24:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God whom death could not defeat and whom the tomb could not contain. Amen.

There is a beautiful movie made in Japan titled “Departures”. It is not, as I imagined, about a travel agency, but about a funeral company. A cellist, Daigo, is forced to take a job with a funeral company when his contract with an orchestra is terminated. At first he will not even share the news of his new job with his wife because those who handle the dead were considered “unclean” and by virtue of their “uncleanness” were prevented from mixing with other people. By association, the Daigo’s wife would also have been treated as a pariah. What Daigo learns by observation and practice, is that it is a privilege to prepare the bodies of the dead for burial. Through the film, we are given an insight into the gentleness, care and reverence that it taken with the deceased and with Daigo (and then his wife) understand that really it is an honourable profession – a gift to the provider of the service as well as to the beneficiary.

The practice of preparing bodies for death has become the province of funeral directors in Western nations, but there are still people who insist on performing this last intimate, and personal ritual for a loved one.

Our readings for the past week have highlighted intimacy and touch. We began two weeks ago with the account of Mary anointing Jesus’ feet with costly oil and then wiping his feet with her hair. Maundy Thursday recounts Jesus’ kneeling before the disciples and washing and drying their feet. Then in contrast to the gentle intimacy of these acts, Good Friday reminds us how Jesus’ body was handled roughly, and brutally by men who did not know him, whose touch was not a sign of intimacy, but of domination and indifference. Finally, the feet that were anointed by Mary and the hands that washed the feet of the disciples were fixed to a cross with nails. To add insult to injury Jesus’ broken, bloodied body was hurried wrapped and placed in a tomb – denied the reverent washing and anointing that was the custom[1].

In a culture in which the body is washed, anointed and wrapped shortly following death – a final act of love – it must have been awful for the women to watch Jesus’ torn and shattered body placed in a tomb without ceremony and to have known that it would be at least thirty-six hours before the ritual cleansing and anointing could begin – by which time the blood would have dried and the bones forever out of shape. For the women, women who had followed him all the way from Galilee and who had supported him from their own pockets, the grief experienced by Jesus’ death would have been compounded by the abruptness of his burial, a burial with no ceremony and little preparation. As he was torn away from them by his arrest and crucifixion, so now he is quickly removed from their reach.

It is no surprise that, at early dawn, as soon as the day of rest had ended, the women found themselves at the tomb, ready to say their final ‘goodbyes”, to do what had been denied them two nights ago. They have come to wash his body, to massage it with oils, and to touch Jesus one last time.

BUT in this week in which touch has been so important, touch is now denied the women who followed him to the cross and stood by while he died. The tomb is open and the body, the precious body gone; gone. The tomb is empty because Jesus is not dead, and not being dead, does not require the ministration of the women. Were they still bereft? Were they further traumatised? We do not know. We do not even know if the women ever see Jesus, let alone touch him again. Their part in the story ends here. 

The emphasis on touch in the weeks leading up to Jesus’ resurrection warns us not to lose sight of the fact that Jesus fully embodied our physical, fleshly form, that he was able to touch and be touched in ways that demonstrated his love for and his desire to be close to us. As we rejoice in the resurrection, and in the imperishability of Jesus’ risen body, let us not abandon the earthly reality of the Jesus that sought (and seeks) intimacy with us. The tension between the physical Jesus and the risen Christ reminds us that the risen Christ is not aloof and remote, but that the risen, ascended Jesus is the Jesus who was totally present, totally engaged and who wants to be in relationship with us.

We cannot touch, but we can remember that once he was touched and that he could touch.

Christ is risen.

He is risen indeed!


[1] At least Jesus’ body was claimed for burial. Most victims of crucifixion were unceremoniously tossed into a pit.

God is dead – Good Friday

April 19, 2025

God is dead – Good Friday 2025

Marian Free

In the name of God who, in Jesus, identified with humanity to the point of death.  Amen.

“Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.” A core component of Christian faith is that Jesus actually dies. Taken to a literal end point, God dies with Jesus on the cross. From three in the afternoon on Friday to sometime during the night on Saturday evening there is an absence – an absence felt physically by Jesus’ friends and disciples. An absence that I believe we are meant to feel in our hearts and in our bones. From that moment on Good Friday when the gospel is read until that moment on Sunday morning when we declare: “Christ is risen”, we are confronted with the harsh reality that Jesus, God among us, was put to death and that for something like 36 hours, Jesus’ lifeless body lay in a tomb. Jesus/God was truly dead.

As we wait – in this time of emptiness – we have an opportunity to experience the absence of God –  in Gaza, in Ukraine, in the prisons where people are tortured and killed because they challenged the authority of the state, in the favelas of Brazil, the townships of South Africa and the slums of Mumbai and in the Congo and the countless other places in which war, civil strife, injustice and poverty shout out that God is dead, that God is impotent to bring about lasting change.

In the dramatization of the gospel on Good Friday we acknowledge our complicity in the death of Jesus. We take the part of the crowd demanding: “Crucify him! Crucify him!” In so doing, we acknowledge our complicity in the death of Jesus/God in the world today. Our collective unwillingness to pay the cost of change that would lead to peace, equity and justice makes us uncomfortable with “revolutionaries” like Jesus, such that we join the cry for their removal – condemning Jesus to his death. Our collective belief that somehow we can solve the dilemmas of the world, pushes God to margins, denies God the ability to act – sends Jesus to the cross. Our focus on our own needs and our belief that collectively we have the tools to solves the world’s problems proclaims that we do not need God – keeps Jesus in the tomb.

During the time between our Good Friday observances and our Easter Day celebrations, we acknowledge that God is powerless in the face of human greed, greed that leads to a desire for power and control, greed that demands an unfair share of the world’s resources, greed that ensures one’s own well-being before the needs of others. We recognise our complicity in the state of the world today and we grieve the ways in which we have disempowered and marginalised God through our action (or more likely through our inaction).

If God is dead, it is because we put God to death. It is a burden we need to carry especially today.

Thank God we know the end of the story. 

May we commit ourselves to resurrection life – ours and that of others – that God’s power and love may be effective in the world and God’s presence shine light into the darkness.