Giving our all and receiving so much more

April 6, 2019

Lent 5 – 2019

John 12:1-8

Marian Free

In the name of God who longs that we give God all that we are and all that we have. Amen.

You may or may not have realized that there are a number of different accounts of Jesus’ being anointed by a woman. Mark’s account (Mk 14:3f) (which is followed quite closely by that of Matthew) tells us that Jesus, having arrived in Jerusalem for the Passover, is spending the evening in Bethany. He is sitting at table at the home of Simon the leper. While he is there a woman comes in from the street and pours a jar of costly ointment over Jesus’ head. Some of the disciples are angry and scold the woman. They ask why the ointment was wasted when it could have been sold and the money given to the poor. Jesus responds that they always have the poor with them and comments that the woman has anointed his body for its burial.

Matthew makes a only couple of small changes – in his account all the disciples are angry, but they do not scold the woman.

Luke uses similar elements to tell the story in a very different way (Lk 7:36f). Whereas Mark, followed by Matthew and John puts the account at the end of Jesus’ ministry. Luke places it much earlier in his narrative. In his version, Simon the leper becomes Simon the Pharisee and the woman is identified as a sinner. In Luke’s re-telling, the Pharisee has invited Jesus to eat with him. As they eat, a woman comes in off the street. She bathes Jesus’ feet with her tears and wipes them with her hair. Then she anoints and kisses Jesus’ feet. According to Luke the disciples have no part to play in the narrative. It is Simon the Pharisee who reacts negatively to the woman’s actions. Simon is not offended by the waste of money, but by the fact that Jesus (who must surely know that the woman is a sinner) is allowing her to touch him.

Despite his obvious concern for the poor elsewhere, Luke does not quote Jesus saying about the poor. Instead, Luke uses the account to teach about forgiveness.

The story of the woman who anoints Jesus is (unusually) found in all four gospels. In John’s gospel the setting (like that of Mark and Matthew) is in Bethany – immediately before the Passover. John however, places the account in the home of Jesus’ close friends – the siblings Mary, Martha and Lazarus. It is Mary, not a stranger off the street, who takes the costly ointment and uses it to anoint Jesus’ feet. As with the sinful woman of Luke’s gospel, Mary wipes Jesus’ feet with her hair. In John, it is only Judas who thinks that the ointment should have been sold and the money given to the poor.

If we leave aside Luke’s account, it is interesting to note that it is the extravagance of the anointing that causes offense in Mark. Apparently, the disciples are not worried that the woman is behaving in a way that, even in the twenty first century would cause onlookers to squirm – only that the ointment could be sold and given to the poor. We have no way of knowing if this reflects their attitude to possessions in general, a genuine concern for the poor or whether they resent the fact that the woman/Mary can afford such a gift or if they are anxious that her extravagance shows up their frugality or meanness.

John’s telling of the story, though brief, is redolent with meaning. It lies between the raising of Lazarus and Jesus’ own death. The fragrance of the ointment contrasts with the stench of Lazarus’ body and Mary’s action prefigures Jesus’ foot washing at the last supper.

What has challenged interpreters throughout the centuries is not the differences between the accounts or the symbolism of John’s version but rather the meaning of Jesus’ words: “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

Does this mean, as many have suggested, that we have no responsibility for those who, for whatever reason are less fortunate than ourselves? Or does it mean that Jesus is telling us that we should not use the poor as a means to an end – to draw attention to ourselves or to demonstrate our generosity? Or does it, as Janet Hunt reflects , ask us to consider where our priorities lie? In other words, are we, like Mary, able to focus not only our resources but our time and our energy entirely on Jesus or are we constantly distracted by other “important” or “worthy” tasks – by the poor whoever they may be.In other words, do we convince ourselves that our inattention to prayer, our failure to set aside time to be with God is justified because what we are doing instead – visiting the sick, minding our grandchildren, cleaning the church – is another way of showing our commitment to our faith.

“You always have the poor with you.” There is always time to be of use to our family and friends, to provide solace, company and assistance to others. Putting Jesus first does not rob them of our attention or our time, but rather it makes our care for them more focused and more meaningful. Making time for Jesus, giving ourselves to Jesus first and foremost ensures that we have the reserves to give ourselves more fully to those in need and it means that we are not using their needs as an excuse not to look after ourselves and after our relationship with God.

When Mary takes the ointment and anoints Jesus’ feet, she is thinking only of Jesus and is giving herself completely to him. It is not that other things, other people do not have a claim on her, but for this moment she is totally focused on him. Other demands, on her time and her resources, will still be there when she is done and she will see to them then.

The distractions in our lives – even those that seem praiseworthy or commendable – will not vanish if we put God first and, if we put God first, the praiseworthy and commendable will be even more so. Those whom we seek to serve will be better served by one who, having been restored in God’s presence can give themselves even more freely and even more generously.

Known and loved

March 30, 2019

Lent 4 – 2019

Luke 15:1-3,11b-32

Marian Free

In the name of God, whose love for us is not determined by what we do or don’t do, but is freely poured out on us all. Amen.

There is a wonderful movie based on the book The Joy Luck Club. The novel follows the lives of four Chinese women who, for quite different reasons, have fled China and found themselves in the United States. There they all marry and have children and form a strong familial bond such that their children could be cousins. We witness the children growing up and the competition between the mothers as the children excel at chess, at the piano, at school and then in the work place. On the whole, the off spring are noisy and self confident high achievers. One, June, does not fit the mould. At ‘family’ gatherings she stays in the background. June doesn’t want to compete with her cousins, she lacks their confidence and selfishness and is always putting the others before herself. At family gatherings it is June who takes the smallest portion of a choice dish and it is she who is to be found helping out with the cleaning up while the other cousins are chatting among themselves.

One evening June, who has made the choice to help her mother rather than sit with her cousins, bristles with resentment (at least as much as someone as sweet as June, can bristle). Even though she willingly helps out, on this particular evening she feels taken for granted. She complains to her mother who responds: “I see you. I see you taking the worst piece of crab when your cousins take the best. I see you looking after your aunties. I see you helping out. I see you.” “I see you.”

June had thought that her actions went unnoticed and that her mother preferred her more confident, higher achieving ‘cousins’, but all along her mother knew her and saw her. June’s quiet help had not gone unnoticed. Her gentle and unobtrusive presence was seen and valued. Knowing this is enough for June. Until now June hadn’t needed or sought reward for her behaviour, but this evening she want to know that she was not unappreciated or invisible. Her mother’s affirmation is sufficient reassurance. She knows that she doesn’t have to compete with her cousins. She understands that she is valued for who she is and that is enough.

I don’t know anyone who does not identify with the older son in today’s parable. Whether it is because we ourselves are an older sibling or whether our sense of justice is deeply offended at the father’s inexplicable generosity towards the son who squandered his inheritance we all sympathize with the older brother who is hurt and angry. After all, we think, he is the good son. He hasn’t rocked the boat. He has quietly, willingly and diligently done all that was expected of him. Why should the younger brother be rewarded and the older son ignored?

We feel this way because we fail to see is that like June, until now the older brother has not felt that he was missing out, or if he did, he had not talked it over with his father. He has simply, and presumably happily, been doing what was expected of him. He has been the dutiful son. He hasn’t sought a reward for doing what was right but, seeing the father’s generosity towards his brother, he becomes aware that he could have had more. Perhaps like June, he had always wanted some reassurance that his conforming to social norms was valued and that his work was not unseen. Or perhaps all along he has been desperate for his father to acknowledge and reward his good behaviour. He may even have been going above and beyond what was expected in a misguided attempt to earn his father’s respect. His resentment, hitherto unnamed and perhaps unrecognized comes bubbling to the surface when his brother- the one who has disgraced himself and brought shame to his family – appears to be being rewarded not for good behaviour, but for bad behaviour. He, the older brother, is the one who should have been rewarded. He is the one to whom the father should have paid some attention. His is the hard work that should have been recognized.

Sadly, like June, the older son hasn’t understood his father’s love for him. Like June he has failed to identify his need for affirmation and he is mistaken in his father’s regard for him. He has not been taken for granted. His readiness to do what was required has not been ignored. If only he knew it he already has everything that belongs to the father. If only he realised that father has not asked or expected him to make sacrifices or to go without. Quite unnecessarily, the older son has made a martyr of himself. He did not accept that his father’s love and regard were freely given and now, when he sees what he could have had, he seethes with resentment. His relationship with his father was based on the false understanding that his father’s love needed to be earned. This is why he simply cannot understand that his father could welcome back his brother without exacting some retribution or imposing some punishment. He has so misunderstood his father’s regard for him that no amount of pleading will get him to go inside to the party – further demonstrating his lack of comprehension of the nature of father’s love.

So – if you identify with the older son ask yourself this – are you doing things you would rather not do because you think you need to? Are you being a martyr in the secret hope that you will be rewarded? Do you have it in your head that you/we need to earn God’s love or approval? Is your relationship with God such that you do not yet understand that God is always reaching out to you and constantly inviting you to the party?

None of us are perfect, yet here we all are – being held and loved by God.

If we resent God’s generosity towards those we consider to be less deserving perhaps it is because we do not yet know and value God generosity towards and love for us.

Following God as if nothing else matters (updated for Lent 3)

March 23, 2019

Lent 3 – 2019

Luke 13:31-35

Marian Free

In the name of God who is our all in all. .

The mini series “The Cry” is a psychological thriller that moves between the past and the present in a way that is quite confusing and also terrifying. It begins with a courtroom scene is which a young woman is on trial. As the story unfolds we learn that the woman is a sleep-deprived mother of a child who refuses to settle. When the child disappears, our immediate thought is that the distraught woman had something to do with the disappearance and we leap to the conclusion that this is why she on trial. Our suspicion is confirmed (or so we think) when we discover that the child is not missing but dead. As the story vacillates between the past and the present we are taken on a tortuous journey during which the truth is gradually revealed. Only at the very end do all the pieces of the puzzle fit into place and we learn why it is that the woman is in the dock.

Writers, including script writers, use all kinds of techniques to pique our interest and to maintain our attention through the course of a story. Giving the audience or the reader a preview of what is going to happen is just one way of keeping them engaged, of maintaining the tension, or of building suspense.

Luke appears to be doing just this in the gospel and in particular in the five verses we have before us this morning. First of all a sense of imminent danger is created by the warning of the Pharisees who tell Jesus that Herod wants to kill him. This is followed by Jesus’ statement that a prophet cannot be killed outside Jerusalem. The threat posed by Herod and Jesus’ insinuation that he is going to Jerusalem to die intensify a sense of foreboding that has hung over this gospel since Simeon’s prophesy that Jesus would be a sword that would pierce Mary’s soul (2:35); since Satan departed to return at an opportune time (4:13); since the people of Nazareth threatened to drive Jesus over a cliff (4:29); since Jesus so infuriated the Pharisees that they discussed what they might do with him (6:11); and since Jesus’ obscure sayings about the Son of Man being killed and then raised.

We are so inured to story and so familiar with its happy ending, that we do not always hear the threat that lies just beneath the surface nor do we see the sword that hangs over Jesus’ head from the beginning. The reality of the resurrection deafens and blinds us to the way in which tension has been building throughout the gospel and is so evident here.

These five verses make it abundantly clear that Jesus is heading into danger. Twice Jesus mentions a three day time span: “today and tomorrow and the third day”, “today and tomorrow and the next day” which provide the reader with an ominous reminder of the passion predictions. Herod is planning to kill him and Jesus feels that he must go on to Jerusalem for it is there (and only there?) that the prophets die.

The reader cannot help but wonder why Jesus insists on continuing the journey. We find ourselves willing him to turn back, to change his stride and to stop antagonizing those who have the power to destroy him. Surely he has some sense of self-preservation!

It is clear that Jesus knows what is at stake and yet he will not be deterred. His response to the reports that Herod wants to kill him is that he still has work to do. The fact Jerusalem will not welcome him but will murder him is no reason for him to interrupt or to abort his journey, but only gives him cause to continue. He has a mission and a goal and not even the worst threat or the most dire of consequences will deflect him from this task. God’s call on his life is inviolable. For Jesus, life and death have no meaning if they are not in accord with God’s plan for him.

The massacre in Christchurch and other acts of violence perpetrated on the innocent, remind us that we live in a world that is filled with unforeseen risks and dangers and that even in our places of worship we are not safe from the horrors of irrational hatred. Christians in Egypt, in Nigeria and elsewhere have long been aware that the practice of their faith places them in great danger. Yet the threat of attack does not prevent them from engaging in corporate worship and the death of church leaders and even of family members does not weaken their faith let alone cause them to lose faith. God’s place in their hearts and God’s call on their lives is such that violence, hatred or disparagement have no power to distract them from what is at the core of their being.

In this season of Lent we are challenged to consider the distractions in our lives, the things that grab our attention, the things that inhibit or interfere with our relationship with God, the things that prevent us from truly heeding and responding to God’s call on and the things that reveal our timidity and our desire for self-preservation. Today’s reading provokes a number of questions: do we waver in our faith when the going gets rough? would we hold true to our course in the face of danger? would we turn aside if we thought our lives were at risk? Are our eyes firmly fixed on God or do we have one eye focused on what is going around us? How much do we trust God with life itself?

Our faith will almost certainly not cost us our lives, but that should not stop us following Jesus as if nothing else mattered.

One more chance

March 23, 2019

Lent 2 – 2019

Luke 13:1-9 (Some thoughts)

Marian Free

In the name of God who always gives us a second chance. Amen.

I have said many times before that the gospel writers have not captured Jesus’ words exactly in the places where and when he might have actually said them. By the time the gospels were being written Jesus’ sayings and parables had been circulating orally for decades. Almost certainly the stories were simply repeated out of context. (Remember what Jesus said about ..? Remember the story about the Samaritan ..? and so on.) Early believers were not so interested in Jesus’ life especially when those who knew Jesus were still alive. What that means is that when writer of Luke recorded his story of Jesus, he had available to him a collection of teaching material from which he had to create some order and which he had to insert into a chronological account of Jesus’ life. Sayings that appeared to have something in common were placed together but sometimes, as is the case today their positioning seems to our eyes to be quite random.

The first saying presents a picture of a God who is exacting and demanding. It suggests that any trauma or trouble in our lives is God’s judgement on our bad behaviour. (In our current context it would allow us to justify the massacre in Christchurch as a consequence of the ‘sins’ of those who were killed and injured.) Most of us would find this theology abhorrent. It presents an image of God that does not fit with the infant in the cradle or the victim on the cross.

It is well for us that this saying is balanced by the parable of the gardener and the fig. Those of us who have tried to grow fruit trees in this climate know how much work it can take and how disappointing it is when our tree produces nothing. Careful pruning, judicious fertilising and appropriate watering can be to no avail if, for example the weather is not right. Some of us will sympathize with the owner who, frustrated by the lack of fruit wants to replace the fig with something that will produce a yield. Not so the gardener who argues that the tree be given one more chance.

One more chance – this is more like the God who sent Jesus to an unworthy people. One more chance – God doesn’t demand perfection, nor does God wait until we are perfect until we receive the blessings that faith showers upon us. One more chance, then another and another. Over and over again God reaches out to us – frail and imperfect as we are – and says ‘one more chance’, ‘have another go’, ‘you can do it’.

The God in whom I believe, the God who came into a world that was far from perfect, is not remote and distant but close and reassuring. God ‘knows of what we are made’ and, over and over again, makes allowances for us.

God always gives us one more chance.

Lent is an opportunity, a gift from God to take that chance, to make changes in our lives such that by Easter we are in some way more faithful, more joyful or more at peace with the world. Year after year (if need be, day after day) we can take hold of the opportunity to change, to grow and to bear fruit such that albeit imperceptibly we reach the potential God has in mind for us.

One more chance – take it!

Following God as if nothing else matters

March 16, 2019

Lent 3 – 2019

Luke 13:31-35

Marian Free

In the name of God who is our all in all. .

The mini series “The Cry” is a psychological thriller that moves between the past and the present in a way that is quite confusing and also terrifying. It begins with a courtroom scene is which a young woman is on trial. As the story unfolds we learn that the woman is a sleep-deprived mother of a child who refuses to settle. When the child disappears, our immediate thought is that the distraught woman had something to do with the disappearance and we leap to the conclusion that this is why she on trial. Our suspicion is confirmed (or so we think) when we discover that the child is not missing but dead. As the story vacillates between the past and the present we are taken on a tortuous journey during which the truth is gradually revealed. Only at the very end do all the pieces of the puzzle fit into place and we learn why it is that the woman is in the dock.

Writers, including script writers, use all kinds of techniques to pique our interest and to maintain our attention through the course of a story. Giving the audience or the reader a preview of what is going to happen is just one way of keeping them engaged, of maintaining the tension, or of building suspense.

Luke appears to be doing just this in the gospel and in particular in the five verses we have before us this morning. First of all a sense of imminent danger is created by the warning of the Pharisees who tell Jesus that Herod wants to kill him. This is followed by Jesus’ statement that a prophet cannot be killed outside Jerusalem. The threat posed by Herod and Jesus’ insinuation that he is going to Jerusalem to die intensify a sense of foreboding that has hung over this gospel since Simeon’s prophesy that Jesus would be a sword that would pierce Mary’s soul (2:35); since Satan departed to return at an opportune time (4:13); since the people of Nazareth threatened to drive Jesus over a cliff (4:29); since Jesus so infuriated the Pharisees that they discussed what they might do with him (6:11); and since Jesus’ obscure sayings about the Son of Man being killed and then raised.

We are so inured to story and so familiar with its happy ending, that we do not always hear the threat that lies just beneath the surface nor do we see the sword that hangs over Jesus’ head from the beginning. The reality of the resurrection deafens and blinds us to the way in which tension has been building throughout the gospel and is so evident here.

These five verses make it abundantly clear that Jesus is heading into danger. Twice Jesus mentions a three day time span: “today and tomorrow and the third day”, “today and tomorrow and the next day” which provide the reader with an ominous reminder of the passion predictions. Herod is planning to kill him and Jesus feels that he must go on to Jerusalem for it is there (and only there?) that the prophets die.

The reader cannot help but wonder why Jesus insists on continuing the journey. We find ourselves willing him to turn back, to change his stride and to stop antagonizing those who have the power to destroy him. Surely he has some sense of self-preservation!

It is clear that Jesus knows what is at stake and yet he will not be deterred. His response to the reports that Herod wants to kill him is that he still has work to do. The fact Jerusalem will not welcome him but will murder him is no reason for him to interrupt or to abort his journey, but only gives him cause to continue. He has a mission and a goal and not even the worst threat or the most dire of consequences will deflect him from this task. God’s call on his life is inviolable. For Jesus, life and death have no meaning if they are not in accord with God’s plan for him.

The massacre in Christchurch and other acts of violence perpetrated on the innocent, remind us that we live in a world that is filled with unforeseen risks and dangers and that even in our places of worship we are not safe from the horrors of irrational hatred. Christians in Egypt, in Nigeria and elsewhere have long been aware that the practice of their faith places them in great danger. Yet the threat of attack does not prevent them from engaging in corporate worship and the death of church leaders and even of family members does not weaken their faith let alone cause them to lose faith. God’s place in their hearts and God’s call on their lives is such that violence, hatred or disparagement have no power to distract them from what is at the core of their being.

In this season of Lent we are challenged to consider the distractions in our lives, the things that grab our attention, the things that inhibit or interfere with our relationship with God, the things that prevent us from truly heeding and responding to God’s call on and the things that reveal our timidity and our desire for self-preservation. Today’s reading provokes a number of questions: do we waver in our faith when the going gets rough? would we hold true to our course in the face of danger? would we turn aside if we thought our lives were at risk? Are our eyes firmly fixed on God or do we have one eye focused on what is going around us? How much do we trust God with life itself?

Our faith will almost certainly not cost us our lives, but that should not stop us following Jesus as if nothing else mattered.

Authenticity

March 9, 2019

Lent 1 – 2019

Luke 4:1-15

Marian Free

In the name of God who, in Jesus, became totally vulnerable and totally accessible. Amen.

For a while there was a trend among writers and journalists to write searingly honest accounts about parenthood. Articles and columns were written, and books published by new parents, mostly mothers, who took it upon themselves to debunk the myths around parenthood. As I remember most of the authors were people who came to parenting later in life. They had established careers, bought homes and developed reasonably comfortable lifestyles and patterns of existence. None seemed to expect the enormous disruption that a new born child would bring. They had been led to believe all the positives – the flood of love that threatens to overwhelm you and the delights of watching as your child reveals her personality. They had bought “sales talk” of being able to establish a routine, the ability to work around baby’s naptime and the notion that if you do everything right your beautiful baby will fit right into your lifestyle!

When confronted with the reality of babies who don’t settle, whose crying interrupts dinner with friends and who refuse to settle into any sort of fixed pattern, such writers discover that their lives are completely upended and that, among other things, continuing their writing is near impossible. As a consequence of their surprise and unpreparedness they put pen to paper to share their experience and to prepare any other unsuspecting parents-to-be.

(At least this is how I imagine the events that lead to the articles.)

In some way the authors of these biographies felt that their families, their friends and society at large had undersold the difficulties of child-rearing, had put on a positive face despite the difficulties they themselves had confronted and had created an image that a baby would only enrich one’s life and that any down-sides were easily managed if only one used the right techniques.

I can understand how such false views are perpetrated and, if I am honest, I can own my own part in creating an image of trouble-free parenting. As a first (and second) time mother I attended my local playgroup with a number of my peers. Topics of conversation included sleeping through the night, potty training, and other riveting topics. In that situation, in which everyone else seemed to be succeeding at parenting, I found it difficult to admit that my elder child was not yet toilet trained and that my younger child screamed for two hours after every feed, no matter what I did. In that situation, observers could have been excused for believing that I was coping with motherhood and that my children were behaving in the same way as the other children in the group. Of course, unknown to me, there may have been another mother in my group who had difficulties of her own. If I had had the courage to be vulnerable and imperfect, I would have given her permission to acknowledge her own frustrations and concerns.

In the poem “Ash Wednesday” T.S. Elliot prays:

“Blessèd sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,

Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood”

“Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood.” Elliot recognises that self-deceit, self-delusion is an impediment to authentic relationships. Deception leads to hurt, mistrust, confusion and even anger. As long as we endeavour to hide our real selves and our real experiences, no one will trust us with theirweaknesses and we build a society based not on the truth, but on a collective myth which results in everyone is trying to be someone whom they are not.

Honesty and authenticity inspire trust, allow others to be vulnerable and create relationships which give permission for each person be open and transparent about their own struggles and imperfections. In situations of trust we can share with each other our difficulties in parenting, our anxieties in the work place or even the violence of our spouses. The world would be a better place if we broke down the images of perfection that we try to create and, by being vulnerable ourselves, make a space in which others can own their imperfections.

When we feel that we have to put on a face, when we are tempted to create a positive image of ourselves or to “be strong” in the face of adversity, we do well to remember that Jesus was open to his weaknesses. After forty days of isolation and fasting all kinds of ideas came to him. After all, he was the Son of God! There was nothing that he could not do! He could turn stones into bread, jump off a cliff with no fear that he would come to harm OR he could use his God-given power to rule the world! Whether we attribute these ideas to an external power (Satan) or to Jesus’ own thought processes, they tell us that Jesus was open to temptation and, though he resisted, he was not so perfect that such ideas did not occur to him. He was vulnerable either to Satan’s influence, or to his own desire for recognition or power. That the story of the temptations is recorded, tells us that Jesus had made it known. Jesus was not afraid to let others know that he too had moments of vulnerability and weakness.

It was Jesus’ humanity that made Jesus so easy to relate to – he got tired, he was frustrated with the disciples’ lack of understanding and he was infuriated by the practices of the Pharisees. In turn the disciples felt free to be themselves – confused, foolish and seeking to be first.

Jesus’ relationship with the disciples and theirs with him was authentic and real. Jesus was fully himself as were the disciples. Neither thought less of the other for having human failings and fears, doubts and confusions.

“Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood.” Self-deceit not only damages and limits our relationships with one another, it also restricts our personal development and constrains our spiritual growth. As long as we delude ourselves as to who and what we are, we make it impossible to have a relationship with God that is meaningful and real, impossible to learn from our mistakes and impossible to realise our full potential.

This Lent, may we have the courage to relinquish our fear of being exposed, may we trust God and those around us with our true selves and create relationships with God and with one another that are honest and real, life-giving and life-sustaining and in so doing grow into our true selves and enable others to do the same.

 

How good, Lord to be here.

March 2, 2019

Transfiguration – 2019fullsizeoutput_133a

Luke 9:28-36

Marian Free

In the name of God, transcendent yet immanent, awesome yet comforting, distant and yet as close as a breath. Amen.

“How good Lord to be here!” Whenever I choose the hymn with which we began this morning, I think that we should sing it every week! How good it is to be here! You may not realise this, but Michael and I have now been a part of this Parish for over eleven years – eleven years. That is long enough for you and I to be comfortable each other, way past the time when I might do something unexpected or surprising. With some exceptions, we do the same things week after week, year after year. We sing more or less the same hymns and we have the same preacher. It would not be surprising if, after all this time, our weekly worship might just be “more of the same”. Not at St Augustine’s! One of the real joys of serving this community is that more Sundays than not, at least one person leaves the church saying something to the effect of, “that was wonderful this morning”. To which I reply: “It always is.”

What a privilege and joy to be part of a community that finds our regular, repetitive Anglican gathering uplifting and joyful! How good it is to be here!

Why is it so good? It is good I believe, because in this place and at this time, we are transported out of our day-to-day lives into an experience that is transcendent and transformative. From the moment we enter the church we are confronted by the beauty and grandeur of the building and of the windows. It is obvious that we are in no ordinary place. Even someone with no faith at all cannot fail to be overwhelmed by the soaring roof, the warm timbers and the glorious colours. St Augustine’s is magnificent but in no way is it imposing or unwelcoming. Many who see the interior for the first-time comment on the beautiful feeling that seems to emanate from the walls. We are blessed to worship in a space that is both transcendent and familiar, in which we are both filled with awe and made to feel at home.

How good it is to be here. While our corporate worship might be formal and uplifting it is also comfortable and relaxed. Individually and corporately, we experience the presence of God through our hymns, our readings and, of course, through the Eucharist. Our familiarity with the words and with the pattern of the liturgy does not blunt our awareness of what it is that we do, nor are we allowed to forget that the God whom we worship is both here with us and yet just beyond our grasp. Our worship is moving, uplifting, informative and joyful. It is comforting and reassuring as much as it is awe-inspiring.

Yet though we might be transported by the beauty of our surroundings or deeply moved by the experience of worship, we are also grounded and in touch with the world from which we have been drawn. This helps us to maintain the balance between the transcendent and the immanent (to use the technical terms), to remember who we are and who and what God is. We have to be careful that we are not so enchanted with the experience of God’s presence, not so caught up in the transcendence of the moment that we lose sight of our mission to the world. Our experience of worship may seem to take us to another dimension but that must not cause us to lose sight of the fact that God is as present in our day-to-day living as God is present in our “mountain-top” experiences.

In today’s gospel it is Peter who says: “How good for us to be here!” Peter, with James and John has accompanied Jesus up a mountain to pray. Before their very eyes, not only is Jesus transformed, but Moses and Elijah appear and speak with him. It is as if heaven itself has opened up and gathered the disciples in. Peter’s awe-struck response is to try to capture the moment, to freeze it in time so that he with James and John, can spend the remainder of their lives caught up in this extraordinary moment – never again to have to engage with the nitty gritty of everyday existence.

Peter has yet to understand the reality of Jesus’ ministry, a reality that will be played out in his own life of discipleship. To be a follower of Jesus, he will learn, is not to live one’s life on an exalted spiritual plane but to be fully engaged with the human experience. Peter will come to know that moments of transcendence such as this are not to be held on to, but are to inform and energise the mundane, difficult and sometimes dangerous day-to-day work of being a follower of Jesus.

This morning’s hymn ends: “How good, Lord, to be here, yet we may not remain; but since you bid us leave the mount, come with us to the plain.”

However good it is to be here, our call is to take our knowledge of God into the world, to fully engage with everyday realities, both good and bad. We come here week by week for our mountain-top experience. Consciously and deliberately we bring ourselves into the presence of God. For this one hour we focus intentionally on our relationship with God. In this time and place we allow ourselves to be inspired, fed and nurtured so that reinvigorated, renewed and transformed, we can go into the world and live lives that are infused with the presence of God and the knowledge of God’s presence.

Upside down, back-to-front Kingdom of God

February 23, 2019

Epiphany 7 – 2019

Luke 6:27-38

Marian Free

In the name of God who asks from us only what will serve our own sense of well-being and wholeness. Amen.

Some forty years ago there was a movie about the life of Jesus. It is so long ago that I cannot remember the name of the movie or on which gospel it was based. I do remember two things. One, the language used in the film was that of the King James Bible which sounded clumsy and archaic. The second is the way in which the movie portrayed Jesus teaching the parable of the sower. Time has probably clouded my memory somewhat, but as I recall, Jesus was speaking as he walked through a crowded market. What that meant was that those who heard the beginning of the parable didn’t hear the ending and those who heard the ending had no idea how the parable began. The image jarred at the time, and it jars now as I recall it. The gospel writers don’t describe Jesus walking and talking. Mark depicts Jesus teaching from a boat. In Matthew’s gospel the bulk of Jesus’ teaching occurs in the Sermon on the Mount and in Luke Jesus’ teaching is presented in the Sermon on the Plain and during the journey to Jerusalem. Whenever Jesus is teaching, he appears stationary.

That said, while those who were present would have been able to hear the beginning and the end of the story, if Jesus teaching consisted of a string of sayings such as we have in today’s gospels, I imagine that the crowds would have scratched their heads and wandered away in confusion. Just as Jesus almost certainly did not walk as he taught, so too, it is unlikely that he stood up before a crowd and presented a series of unconnected aphorisms such as we find in today’s gospel. The gospels indicate that Jesus was a good teacher. He able to gain and hold the attention of the crowds who surrounded him, and he taught in such a way that many came to understand that he was the anointed one. No proficient teacher would include such diverse and unconnected material in one lecture as we have before us today.

Love your enemies, give your coat and your shirt, don’t complain if someone takes away all your goods, lend to those who can’t pay you back, forgive, don’t judge and give generously. No doubt, over the course of his ministry Jesus said a number of things in a variety of different contexts – over meals, as he and the disciples walked along and at times when Jesus was teaching a crowd. He may have been responding to a question from the disciples, commenting on the behaviour of the Pharisees, making an observation or simply repeating Old Testament wisdom. What is almost certain is that Jesus didn’t say all of these things at the same time.

After Jesus’ death, his followers will have recalled and repeated Jesus’ teachings. At some point, and being anxious to keep Jesus’ memory alive, someone has gathered his sayings together and created some sort of order. For example, today’s gospel suggests that the collator of the material has grouped similar sayings together – the sayings about non-resistance are placed with sayings about love of enemies, the saying about being merciful is connected with that about not judging and the saying about giving more than what is asked is put in the same context as that of giving abundantly.

This means that we don’t have to insist that the sayings in this morning’s gospel fit together neatly nor do we have to worry about their relationship one to one another.

Like the beatitudes which on the surface are counter-intuitive, the sayings reverse our usual way of thinking. Jesus insists that poverty, grief and persecution are to be seen as a blessing not as an affliction, that they are life-giving and not soul-destroying. Jesus goes on to demand that we live in ways that are counter-cultural, non-reciprocal, non-judgemental, selfless and generous. In other words, we are to behave in ways that are contrary to our natural instincts and which have the potential to set us apart from the society in which we live. Like it or not, Jesus tells us to love our enemies, to give to those who can give us nothing in return, to refrain from retaliation, to forgive and not to condemn.

Contrary to expectation, applying these values to our lives does not leave us impoverished, down-trodden, taken advantage of or abused – just the opposite. Self-sacrifice, love of those who do not love us and generosity towards others rewards us in ways we cannot begin to imagine. If we live according to these principles, we will discover that instead of being small and petty, jealous and judgemental, we become expansive and open-handed, gracious and understanding. We are not called to make sacrifices for the sake of sacrifice. We are called only to let go of those things that limit us and to relinquish those things that have us in their power. God does not make demands that are burdensome and life-denying. God seeks only our well-being, our development and our wholeness. Indeed, when we learn to graciously accept what life throws at us and when we focus more on others than on ourselves, our world-view is enriched and enlarged, our anxieties are diminished, our hearts are expanded and our sense of satisfaction with our lives and our place in the universe is increased beyond our imagination.

In the upside down, back-to-front kingdom of God what we give up is more than compensated for by what we get back.

Not our our watch?

February 16, 2019

Holy Innocents – 2019

Matthew 2:13-18

Marian Free

In the name of God who uses love, not force to ensure obedience and trust. Amen.

Some of you will have seen the recent movie, “Mary, Queen of Scots”. Mary was the legitimate daughter of James the V of Scotland, but more importantly, she was the great, granddaughter of England’s Henry VII, and, after the childless Elizabeth, she was the legitimate claimant to the English throne. Mary who at only 6 days old was declared Queen of Scotland as a consequence of the death of her father, was sent to France for her education. At eighteen Mary, a Roman Catholic, returned to a Scotland that in her absence had embraced Protestantism and did not welcome a papist Queen..

Her troubles in Scotland were one thing, but it was the fact that Mary was a threat to Elizabeth’s reign and and the fact that her presence might be the catalyst for civil war or war between the two nations, that led her to her imprisonment and finally to her execution. As long as Mary was alive, she could be a focal point for dissent in the realm and beyond, and Elizabeth’s grip on power was weakened as a result.

The history of the British monarchy is littered with stories of intrigue – of people seeking favour with the king (or queen) to increase their wealth or to bolster or secure their power; or of competing heirs to the throne who must be destroyed lest they pursue their claim by force or become figureheads for those who want to depose the crown. As a consequence, the queen (or king) learns that no one can be trusted, that power must be maintained by force and that any and all opposition must be eliminated so that they no longer pose a threat.

Given our own history, it should come as no surprise to us that Herod, whose position is entirely dependent on his relationship with Rome and his ability to maintain control over a people who despise and reject him, should be agitated when he learns from the magi that a king has been born and not only a king, but the legitimate king of the Jews. The child presents a double threat – he could become a focal point for the unrest that was always just below the surface or he could raise an army and make a claim for Herod’s throne. From Herod’s point of view there is only one way to avoid conflict and loss of face (not to mention loss of power). The child has to die. The problem, in this instance, is that Herod has no way of knowing when the child was born, so just to be safe, he kills all the boys who were born in Bethlehem in the two years before the magi’s visit.

There is no external historical proof that Herod did in fact slaughter the children of Bethlehem, but history has demonstrated time and time again that despots deal with threats to their power in only one way – by ruling tyrannically and by ruthlessly crushing any hint of opposition. Those who challenge, resist or protest oppressive and unjust regimes are usually arrested, tortured and killed – not only in the distant past but also in our present time.

News reports tell us in Venezuela today – a country in which inflation is out of control, medicines are impossible to source and food is scarce – the military is sent to into the slums to quell unrest, with violence if necessary. Protesters who are arrested simply disappear. In Turkey in 2016, an attempted coup against the government led to the imprisonment – not of students, and rabble rousers, but of lawyers and judges and military personnel. Anyone who was critical of the government or who was perceived to be a threat, was arrested and imprisoned. According to a CNN report, more than 110,000 people have been incarcerated since – a number that includes 200 top Turkish court officials. Many have been taken into custody despite the fact that there is no evidence that they had any involvement in the coup. The President was not and is not taking any risks.

In any time and place leaders who do not have the support of their people use repressive and violent means to suppress and eradicate opposition. Stalin’s Russia, Hitlers Germany, Apartheid South Africa, Pol Pot’s Cambodia, the list goes on and on. Brutal repression of revolt, the silencing of dissidents, and the scapegoating of those who are different is justified by the need to keep law and order and it gains support by the vilification and denigration of those who dare to expose injustice and oppression.

So, is Matthew’s account of the slaughter of the innocents simply a commentary on the abuse of power or – does it have something to say to those of us in twenty first century Australia who have the right to choose who governs us and the freedom to criticise our leaders and to protest decisions that we feel to be unreasonable or unfair?

I suspect that we have to recognise that there is a little bit of Herod in all of us, concern for our own welfare, fear of the unknown and a desire to maintain the status quo and in every age there will be those who abuse their power.

It is important that we do not become complacent. We have to be careful that our silence does not give legitimacy to acts of cruelty and torture, that our need for stability and security does not lead us to shore up unjust systems and oppression governments, that our own need for security and peace does not make us indifferent, or worse, deaf and blind to the legitimate complaints of others and that our desire to protect and preserve what we have does not make us fearful of the claims others might make on us.

In other words, let us be on our guard and let us do all that we can to ensure that the innocent are not slaughtered on our watch.

Try again

February 9, 2019

Epiphany 5 – 2019

Luke 5:1-11

Marian Free

In the name of God who challenges us to go our of our depths to see who, with the help of Jesus, we can be. Amen.

The most popular attraction in Israel is, perhaps surprisingly, a first century fishing boat. The boat in question was discovered by two brothers from Kibbutz Ginnosar who used to trawl the shore of the Sea of Galilee looking for artifacts. On one such occasion they discovered the outline of a boat. The story of raising and preserving the boat is fascinating and, thanks to the care taken with it’s restoration, we have an almost complete boat from the time of Jesus. It could hold up to fifteen men and their catch. The one located and preserved at Ginnosar had been repaired on many occasions during the course of its life and archeologists have identified a huge variety of timbers that, over time have been used to repair the boat. While the archeological significance of the discovery is immense and adds a great deal to our understanding of the craft of boat building in the first century, the discovery has the added weight of giving us a truer idea of the sort of vessel into which Jesus might have climbed in today’s gospel.

As with many of the accounts in our gospels, the story of the miraculous catch can be read in a variety of ways and on many different levels. We can notice the difference between this version of Peter’s call and that of the author of Mark, or we can compare the story with the post-resurrection catch of John’s gospel. Time could be spent comparing Peter’s reaction to Jesus with that of the prophets who, in the presence of the divine, recognize their limitations and frailties and protest their unworthiness. What did Jesus teach from the boat and what does it mean to ‘catch people alive’ we might wonder? Why does Peter address Jesus as ‘master’ before the catch and as ‘lord’ after the catch? And why does Luke use the language of ‘catching people alive’ (or enthralling them) when Matthew and Mark tell us that Jesus commissions the first disciples to ‘fish for people’.

These eleven verses, that on the surface recount the call of Peter, James and John, are filled with meanings and nuances that are both obvious and subtle. It could take hours for us to unpack the various complexities of the scene!

Today, I’d like to explore the possibility that the the story of the miraculous catch is a metaphor for our own time, that Jesus urges us to try again when we have lost hope and when feel that we have done all that we can.

We live in an age in which many of have grown weary of trying to win people for Christ and in which too often we fall into despair at the decline in church attendance and at our our inability to prevent the church’s slide into irrelevance. It is a time in which religion is often used to defend conservative values at the cost of compassion and to the detriment of the gospel message of love and in which the political and social landscape is undergoing great change. It is easy to be overwhelmed by the hopelessness of our situation and to simply give up.

Peter, James and John were, according to Luke, professional fishermen. They owned their boats and were in a business partnership. Almost certainly their fathers were fishermen before them and from an early age they would have understood the lake and the times at which the fish were most likely to be running. After an unfruitful night they would have been tired and frustrated and possibly anxious about the loss of revenue and in no mood to have another go. There would have been no reason for them to respond to a tradesman from Nazareth who knew nothing of the ways of fish or of the sea. Yet Jesus’ word is authoritative enough to persuade Peter to go back to the deep and to try one more time. He is rewarded with a catch so large that it begins to break the nets and Peter is forced to call for help.

The world of Peter was no more benign or settled than our own. Peter, James and John were not carefree fishermen, plying their trade and selling their catch. Rome overshadowed all their lives. The state would have demanded that they pay a tax or a levy for the right to fish and Rome’s representatives may have demanded a proportion of the catch. Life would have been difficult and the conditions oppressive and there would have been no reason to imagine that the situation was about to change. Tomorrow would be more of the same, but the certainty of their lives, hard as they were, would surely have more allure than the uncertainty of trusting in let alone following Jesus.

Jesus approached fishermen who were disillusioned and tired and he told them to try one more time. He ignored Peter’s protestations that he was a sinful man and without so much as a ‘by your leave’ he assured Peter that from now on he would hold people enthralled.

Many of us in the church are exhausted and disheartened. We feel that we have done all that we can to bring about growth in our congregations. We are conscious too, that collectively we are tainted by scandal, blemished by the compromises we have made and held in scorn because we have been unable to change and adapt.

When we feel that we have reached the limit of our reserves, Jesus comes to us, takes his place with us and says: ‘Try again. Take heart, go out once more into the midst of a world that is complex and hostile. Throw out your nets one more time. You will be amazed at what I can do with you – sinners that you are. Don’t be afraid, with me you will hold people enthralled.’