Blessed are. .

February 17, 2025

Epiphany 6 – 2025

Luke 6:17-26

Marian Free

In the name of God who promises joy to the grieving, hope to the despairing and life to the dying. Amen.

The last thing we need when we are feeling low or when everything seems to be going against us is glib, pious words. When you are grieving: “He/she is in a better place.” (What was wrong with where they were?) “God wanted another angel.” (Couldn’t God get another angel without taking my child.)  “She died doing what she loved.”  “There’s another star in heaven.” “It’s all part of God’s plan.” Or when you’ve lost your home to flood or fire: “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” “Every cloud has a silver lining.”

Such trite, albeit well- meaning comments only exacerbate a person’s pain and leave them feeling unsupported and misunderstood. What many people want when they are overwhelmed with grief or struggling with their life circumstances is for someone to sit with them through the pain, to acknowledge that life can be unfair, and that tragedy is random and usually undeserved.

All of which makes me wonder about the blessings pronounced by Jesus in this morning’s gospel. Are they just superficial platitudes to help his followers (mostly the poor), to more fully embrace their situation? Is Jesus just patting the poor and hungry on the shoulder and saying that it is OK to be poor and hungry because they are blessed?  Is he encouraging the sorrowful to swallow their grief and move on? Surely not.

Those of us who have lived through straightened times know that there is nothing blessed about being poor.  It is hard to find a blessing in worrying about how to feed your children or in sending them off to school without the proper uniform or books. There is nothing blessed about relying on charity to pay your bills or worrying about where to live or knowing that you will never get ahead – that life will be one long struggle. Likewise, it is difficult to find a positive side to hunger or sorrow and, unless one has a martyr complex, it is hard to imagine that it is blessed to be hated, excluded reviled and defamed. “Rejoice and jump for joy!” who would have the energy to dance and if you did. wouldn’t such a reaction only inflame the negativity already directed at you?

Perhaps for the poor, the hungry and the grieving, there is more comfort to be found in the “woes” – that is if one takes comfort in the suffering or punishment of others, or if one delights in other people being “brought down to size.”

We are most familiar with the Beatitudes as they occur in Matthew 5.  Matthew has eight blessings compared to Luke’s four and Matthew has spiritualised Jesus’ words thus removing them from the realm of everyday experience, and in some way diminishing the pain of real poverty, sorrow and hunger and the accountability of the rich, the fed and the grieving. 

It is of course impossible at this distance to determine Jesus’ actual words, but Luke’s record is consistent with Luke’s agenda, in particular his attitude to the the rich and the comfortable and his emphasis on God’s preference for the poor, the marginalised and the excluded[1]

Luke’s version of the beatitudes is firmly grounded in earthly reality. His beatitudes could be said to be a timely message for our times. Times in which the gap between rich and poor is increasing and in which the rich use their wealth to influence the decisions of our policymakers and the reporting by our media. Times in which wealthier nations continue with life as usual while poorer nations are paying the price of a changing climate with famines, natural disasters and rising sea levels. Those for whom this present life offers little will find comfort in Jesus’ words that they will be blessed – not now, but when the kingdom comes. Those who are comfortable in this life, and more especially those whose comfort, security and wealth are a consequence of exploitation, self-centredness and an insatiable need for more would do well to heed Jesus’ warning that there will be consequences for their actions.

It is easy to believe that we, Jesus’ disciples are off the hook. After all I don’t imagine that there are any among us who could count ourselves among the very rich and that none of us has tried to enrich themselves at the expense of others. I imagine that we all try to be generous in our support of organisations that feed, clothe and house the poor. All of us will have had reason to grieve and many of us will have tried to make a stand for what is right (though probably not to the extent of being excluded defamed or reviled).  

We cannot dismiss the fact that the woes might be addressed to us. After all, we. who are. comfortable are in some way complicit in the current state of the world. Whether it is our need for security, comfort and safety that has caused to put ourselves first (without realizing how that impacts on others).  At the same time, many of our choices directly contribute to inequities in our own nation and in nations beyond our borders. (Do we know who makes our clothes, how our coffee is sourced, whether our suppliers are adequately compensated for the time, cost and effort it costs to. put food on our. supermarket shelves?)

In pronouncing the blessings and woes Jesus is inverting the usual norms of our society. Worse, he is upending the social structure. Blessing the marginalised and overlooked and, condemning those who create and sustain inequities between people, who preside over unjust structures who enrich themselves at the expense of others and who turn a blind eye to the suffering that is everywhere.

Blessed  are those who see the world as it is and who try to address the inequities such that all are blessed.


[1] All of which is particularly interesting if, as we think, the person to whom he is writing is a person of means.

Knowing our sinfulness makes us more, not less able to serve God. Jesus chooses Simon

February 8, 2025

Epiphany 5 -2025

Luke 5:1-11

Marian Free

In the name of God, all-knowing, all-powerful, and ever-present. Amen.

Have you ever thought about what it would be like to come face-to-face with the living God? 

Would you be filled with a deep sense of security and love? Would you be overawed and want to step back in the presence of such power and majesty? Would you be filled with the knowledge of your unworthiness, suddenly conscious of all the ways in which you fail to come up to your own standards, let alone those of God?  Would you be terrified of what God might do to you? Or would you, preferring to continue on your current course of selfishness and hedonism be annoyed and angry that God’s presence should suggest that there should be any other way of being?

In his Chronicles of Narnia, C.S. Lewis depicts the reactions of his characters when they come face to face with Aslan, the God-figure in the narratives. In The Magician’s Nephew, in which we first meet Aslan, Uncle Andrew, the self-absorbed, thoughtless experimenter sees the lion only as an impediment to his plans – he wants to get away so that he can continue doing what he has always done free from scrutiny and judgement. The witch – the symbol of all that is evil wants only to flee from the presence of all that is good.  She prefers the darkness and dreariness of her own world.  

In the second book, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, four siblings enter Narnia. When three of them first see Aslan, they cannot believe that anything could be both terrible and good at the same time[1].  On seeing “the great, solemn, overwhelming eyes, they find that they cannot look at him and they tremble all over.” It takes some time before they find the courage to approach Aslan (who was after all the purpose of their journey) and when finally, they are face-to-face, the lion’s deep and rich voice puts them at ease, and they feel glad and quiet and not at all awkward. 

Edmund, the fourth sibling who had been beguiled by the witch, reacts quite differently. When he comes before Aslan, he experiences a choking feeling, knowing that it was he who warned the witch of Aslan’s appearance. He also has a desire to speak, to offer excuses which thankfully he supresses. 

The reaction to Aslan of each of these characters depends in part on their character – their arrogance or lack of it, their openness (or not) to scrutiny, their willingness (or not) to change, their wilfulness or their compliance, their innocence or their worldliness, and their sense of what is right and what is wrong. 

Lewis takes as his starting point the biblical stories of encounters with God and the various reactions of prophets, kings, disciples and others. 

Today’s readings – Isaiah, Corinthians and Luke – describe the ways in which Isaiah, Paul and Simon react when they find themselves in the presence of the divine. The experiences of the three are quite different, but each in their own way expresses a sense of unworthiness or sinfulness when face-to-face with the living God. Isaiah declares that he is lost – for no one can see God and live. Paul comes to see that his sense of right and wrong was misguided, he tells us that he is the least of the apostles and unfit to be called an apostle. 

Simon’s story is similar – though it includes many other details. According to Luke, Jesus is already known to him as a healer and worker of miracles, as Master, but not as Lord. Early in Jesus’ ministry Jesus visited the house of Simon and healed his mother-in-law. Perhaps this is why Simon is happy to let Jesus use his boat – he is already a little in awe, but not to the point of recognising Jesus for whom he is. When Jesus tells Simon to have one more try at a catch, Simon objects. A night on the lake has gained nothing. He calls Jesus, “Master” a term of respect for someone with authority – sufficient authority that Simon does what Jesus suggests though he has no expectation of success.  To his absolute surprise he nets more fish than his nets can hold, more than he and his fellow workers can bring in themselves, and more than can fit in the boats without causing them to sink.

We will never know what changed Simon’s heart – the catch of fish representing Jesus’ divinity, or the fear of sinking – being punished by God. Either way, he realises that he is in the presence of the divine and urges Jesus (whom he now addresses as “Lord”) to get away from him – stop the boat sinking or protect himself from Simon’s uncleanness. 

Jesus is having none of that.  He can see beyond Simon’s weaknesses to his strengths. He knows that the very fact that Simon is alert of his shortcomings, makes him an ideal candidate for a disciple.  Simon won’t be hampered by pride or self-confidence. His self-awareness will mean that he will be more receptive to instruction, more willing to rely on God than on himself, and more tolerant of the failings of others.

Scripture is filled with examples of people who felt unworthy to be chosen by God, who in the presence of the divine saw themselves for who they truly were – unworthy to be carry out God’s will.  

God choses them anyway and equips them to serve. God makes the lips of Isaiah clean so that he can speak the word of God. God changes Paul’s passion for the faith of his youth to faith in Christ and so the church is born. God tolerates the foibles of Simon, indeed of all the disciples knowing that there will be time when they come into their own. 

I am not at all certain that I could stand tall in the presence of God, but scripture tells me that God chooses those who are prepared to see themselves as God sees them, those who do not put up barriers between themselves and God, those who can stand God’s scrutiny and, of course, those who have nothing to fear. These are the people whom God can use – people who have room for the Holy Spirit in their lives, who know how little they can do on their own and who will allow God to work in and through them.

It is not the weak, the vulnerable and the foolish whom God rejects, but the self-assured, the self-contained, and those who are so pleased with themselves that they have no room for God.

“Go away from me Lord, for I am a sinful person.”

“Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.”

Knowing our sinfulness makes us more, not less, useful to God.


[1] p 117

Is Jesus simply being provocative – sermon in Nazareth

February 4, 2025

Epiphany 4 – 2025

Luke 4:22-30

Marian Free

In the name of God who challenges and disquiets us. Amen.

I often listen to the radio when I am driving. This means that there are many times when I join or leave a programme in the middle. As a result I can struggle to follow the discussion or to know what is going on. Thankfully programmes are now available as podcasts and if I am really interested  can listen to the part that I have missed and fill in the details that were puzzling me.

 Knowing the complete story prevents us from drawing the wrong conclusions or from making assumptions that are not warranted. If we know the story in its entirety we have a clearer idea of the context and therefore a better idea of what is going on. When we hear only the beginning, middle or end, or when an account is divided in to two as today’s gospel has been by our lectionary writers, the situation can easily be misrepresented.

 A usual interpretation of this morning’s vignette is that the Nazarenes were distressed by Jesus’ claim that the words of the prophet Isaiah, the words that he had just read, applied to him. We are led to believe that Jesus’ fellow citizens were offended by his assertion that in his person, he was the fulfilment of the Old Testament prophecy. It is assumed that it was Jesus challenge to their scepticism, and his failure to perform miracles for them that inspired their anger and led them to want to push him over the cliff.

 A careful reading of the story in its entirety, suggests that this is not an accurate representation of what is happening in this scene. The people are far from angry when Jesus finishes speaking. “All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.”

 All spoke well and were amazed. There is no suggestion here that the people were offended by or antagonistic towards Jesus or by his claim to be the one promised by Isaiah. Nor is there any hint that they are inclined to disregard Jesus’ claim simply because he is the son of Joseph.

 No. It is Jesus’ further statement that enrages them. It is Jesus’ implication that they do not have confidence in him that draws their ire.

 Of course, we only have the story in summary and it doesn’t provide any nuances in the comments of the crowd that might have caused offence to Jesus, but it does seem that Jesus is being deliberately provocative when he says: “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ And you will say, ‘Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.” As the crowd remains silent, it seems that Jesus is imagining hostility when he states that a prophet is without honour in his own town. It is Jesus who is being sensitive here, not the crowd.

 What are we to make of this? Is Jesus behaving like a petulant spoilt child? Had he expect his family and friends to be even more effusive in their praise? Is he looking for an excuse not to perform miracles or is he seeking to provoke the people so that he can gain sympathy from others when the story is retold? Or, as I think is more likely, does this account serve Luke’s purpose of making it clear to his patron and to his readers that the Gentiles not only have a place in this new expression of faith, but that their place in this faith is in some way a consequence of Jesus’ having been rejected by his own people?

 According to Luke, Jesus continues his attack by reminding his listeners of two Old Testament stories in which Gentiles benefited from the healing powers of the prophets and that therefore he, Jesus, was justified in taking his message and his ministry to those who were not members of the Jewish faith.  Certainly this is consistent with Luke’s agenda that the faith proclaimed by Jesus is universal in its reach, not limited by the faith from which it emerged.

 Of course, we will never know either what was really behind the events recounted in the gospel, or the exact intention of the author. What is clear is that it is always important to read the gospels in their context, and to come to the text afresh every time we read it, because, as the hymn claims: “God has yet more things to break forth from his word.” Certainty and the clinging on to what we think to be true, blind us to what the text is saying and prevent the Holy Spirit from speaking to us anew.

 May we retain an openness to our scriptures, develop a sense of expectation and a willingness to allow the Holy Spirit to show us something we had not seen before.

To do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God – Jesus’ sermon in Nazareth

January 26, 2025

Epiphany 3 – 2025

Luke 4:14-21

Marian Free

In the name of God who. preferences the poor, the oppressed and the marginalised. Amen.

Many of you will have seen the controversy surrounding the sermon preached by the Bishop of Washington State, Mariann Budde at the National Prayer Service for the Inauguration of President Trump. Certainly, my social media feed has been filled with comments all week.

What stirred people to applaud or to condemn the Bishop was the way in which towards the end of her sermon Budde directly addressed the President and asked (very gently) that he show mercy towards those who would be negatively impacted by the executive orders that the President had signed on his first day in office – those whose sense of security was already tenuous and who now had no way of knowing what the future might hold. Bishop Budde has been urged to apologise to the President and has been bombarded by negative comments and even death threats – many from Christians. 

This morning’s gospel is a reminder that Budde was simply speaking from Jesus’ own playbook – which, as it turns out, is (and always was) God’s playbook. When Jesus announces his ministry, when he claims the authority of the Spirit, and when he spells out the reason God sent him, Jesus is simply repeating what was written in the law from the beginning and what the prophets had been exhorting ever since.

In this morning’s episode from Luke’s gospel Jesus begins (one could say inaugurates) his ministry by attending the synagogue in Nazareth – something that he was accustomed to do. It was presumably his turn to read from the scriptures because he stood, and the scroll of Isaiah was brought to him. Jesus unrolled the scroll and read: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

                                    because he has anointed me

                                                      to bring good news to the poor.

                  He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

                                    and recovery of sight to the blind,

                                                      to let the oppressed go free, 

                  to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

Good news to the poor, release to the captives, freedom for the oppressed sounds very much like mercy to me.  

Jesus has not just stumbled across the passage from Isaiah but has chosen these verses carefully. (It seems that God’s purpose was already clear to him.) The verses in question are not sequential. Jesus reads a couple of verses from chapter 61 (1-2) and adds to them a verse from chapter 58 (6) which allows him to add the line “let the oppressed go free”[1]. Jesus probably did not need to read the text exactly not only because that was not necessarily expected, but because those who listened would have known already what it was that God demanded of them. They would have known too that Is 58 continues: Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?” 

In choosing these verses Jesus was repeating what had been central to the Jewish faith from ages immemorial – that God desires a society which honours the dignity, the freedom and the right to food and shelter of every person, a society which puts the care of those who are beleaguered, excluded or misunderstood at its very core. These values there in Leviticus, which insists that debts be forgiven in the Jubilee year, that those enslaved by debt be freed and those who had lost their land (and heritage) due to debt have it restored. Leviticus spells out how to care for the poor – by not harvesting to the edge of the field so that the poor might have something to glean and how to welcome and care for the stranger and sojourner in the land. These instructions are repeated over and over in the Old Testament – care for the widow, the orphan and the stranger in the land. Micah tells the people: “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?[2]

What is good in the law’s eyes, what is good in God’s eyes is not simply the not doing wrong (lying, murdering, committing adultery). What is good, is caring for the vulnerable, the dispossessed, the outsiders.  God’s plea for justice, compassion and equity echoes through the scriptures and Jesus is saying no new thing when he claims that this is God’s primary concern and the reason that he, Jesus, is filled with the Spirit and the centre of his ministry. Jesus’ fulfilment of the OT prophecies is not simply that he is the anointed one sent by God, but that he has come to restore Israel to its proper relationship with God, to bring the nation to its senses that it might remember the commandments of God and live justly and love mercy and to walk humbly with their God. 

The society that God wants God’s people to build is one that is welcoming and inclusive, one that recognises that being blessed entails being a blessing to others, that having more than enough is too much when others do not have enough and not wronging or oppressing the alien in the land, for our forebears were aliens in the land of Egypt. It is a society that understands that putting the well-being of others first is the best and only way to ensure our own well-being.  Placing mercy at the heart of all that we do will go a long way to creating the community God intended us to be.


[1] “The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives,

and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the LORD’S favour, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn” (Is 61:1-2).  “

Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? (Is 58:6).

[2] The consequences of oppressing the poor, of taking advantage of those who are worse off, or of acting unjustly are also spelled out in the prophets. (For example Micah)

Water into wine – what does it really tell us?

January 20, 2025

Epiphany 2 – 2025

John 2:1-11

Marian Free

In the name of God, who is not limited or constrained by human doctrine and regulation. Amen.

As I have said many times, the gospels have lost their capacity to shock and to unsettle. Over the past two thousand years we have interpreted and reinterpreted the gospels such that most of us have completely lost touch with the original context. We have developed generalisations to help us to make sense of God’s action in Jesus, simplified his message to statements such as “Jesus is our Saviour” and then have understood the broader story in relation to this.  (Jesus as Saviour may conveniently allow us to overlook Jesus as judge which is another lens through which to interpret the gospel). Instead of seeing the gospels as pointing to a deeper meaning we have turned them into stories about God or Jesus (God is generous, loving, forgiving) or we have made them into moral guidelines insisting that Christianity’s primary purpose is to make us into “good” people (even people who conform to the norms of the society in which they find themselves).  

Seeing Jesus as moral exemplar or benign holy man has blinded us to the absolutely radical, rule-breaking, and shocking teaching and behaviour of Jesus, the Jesus who upset the religious authorities, disregarded the Jewish law and disrupted the norms of the society in which he found himself, the Jesus who caused offense to all respectable, law-abiding people of faith. 

Take for example today’s gospel. We know the story so well. Jesus is at a wedding; the wine runs out and his mother alerts him to the fact. Having initially ignored his mother’s concern Jesus then asks the servants to draw from the jars in which the water for purification was stored. Amazingly, not only has the water become wine, but it was wine of the finest quality and there were litres of it! How extraordinary! What an example of God’s boundless generosity and of Jesus’ concern for those around him!  Who is this Jesus that he can perform such a miracle?  

All of these are valid interpretations of the story, but they fail to take into account the underlying message of the gospel writer – that Jesus has come to disrupt and overturn and even replace the rituals and practices of the faith into which he was born. 

There are a number of unanswered questions in the account of the wedding.  We are not told whose wedding it is or why Jesus, his mother and his disciples have been invited[1]. Nor is there any explanation as to why, when the guests are already drunk (2:10) they need 600 litres of the highest quality wine. It is not clear why Mary thinks it is her business to worry about the wine or lack thereof or why, when this is Mary’s first appearance in the story, that she is in a position to think that Jesus can do something to rectify the situation.  What authority does Mary have that she can tell someone else’s servants what to do? And why does Jesus tell his mother that the wine is not their business and that his time has not yet come AND then solve the problem anyway[2].

All these are imponderables, because they do not contribute to the point that John is making in telling the story and that is that Jesus is the fulfillment and therefore replacement of Jewish practices and rituals[3]. Throughout the gospel we will see this theme repeated. In John’s account of the feeding of the five thousand, Jesus declares himself to be the Bread of Life, implying that in him the Passover is fulfilled. The Baptist has already identified Jesus as the Lamb of God (the Passover Lamb). Water and light are key parts of the Festival of Booths – Jesus claims to be “living water” and “light of the world” thus making that Festival redundant. Shortly after the wedding at Cana Jesus declares himself to be the Temple suggesting that the Temple and its practices are no longer necessary (2:21). Through these and other images, the author of John is telling us that the old feasts and rituals have been superseded by God’s action in Jesus.

So back to the wedding. What is interesting and scandalous is not so much the wine and the quantity of it, but what Jesus is saying and doing in his choice of the jars intended to hold the water for purification. If the wine has run out, then why not use the empty wine jars or failing that the jars in which water was stored for drinking and cooking? That would have been the obvious solution. By using the jars of purification, Jesus is insinuating that their usefulness has come to an end, that he is ushering in a new era, an era in which the old codes of purity no longer apply.

To get to the heart of this story then, we have to pay attention to the scandalous nature of Jesus’ act. His utter disregard for the religious symbolism of the jars, reveals their irrelevance.  That the new wine is superior to the old implies that so too is the new revelation of God through Jesus.  

Here at the very beginning John sets out his agenda – that in his person and teaching Jesus replaces the Temple, its leadership and practices. We have to understand that faith in Jesus does not require adherence to the old ways of relating to God and that through Jesus all people of faith see and know God. There is no longer any need for intermediaries – priests, rituals and observances – through Jesus each person of faith can be in direct relationship with God.


[1] Some scholars have speculated that it is Jesus’ own wedding.

[2] This is typical of Jesus in John’s gospel – to say he won’t’ do something and then to do it. The theme of the hour is an important theme for another time.

[3] For more on this https://www.scholarscorner.com/review-jewish-feasts-johns-gospel/

Following a star – taking risks

January 4, 2025

Epiphany – 2025

Matthew 2:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God, tantalisingly mysterious, and always out of reach. Amen.

“If the wise men gave Jesus gold, why was he poor?” This was a question that my great nephew posed recently. My sister deferred to me for an answer. I confess that I was stumped. In over 50 years of teaching Sunday School and Religious Education and over 30 years of preaching, no one has ever wondered (aloud) what happened to the gifts of the magi. Scholars have pondered over the number of the magi (we know there were three gifts, but not how many magi there were) and have speculated on their role in Matthew’s story. Song writers have given meaning to the gifts and names to three magi, but to date I do not recall anyone wondering what happened to the gifts.  

The magi are exotic and unfamiliar.  They appear only in the account of the birth of Jesus but are never mentioned again.  There are tantalisingly few details to the story. We know almost nothing about these three strangers, where they came from, whether they knew each other before their journey, or why they noticed the star (when no one else appeared to see it). We are not told how they got to Jerusalem, and then to Bethlehem.  Did they travel by foot, by donkey or by camel?  Not knowing from where they came, we do not know whether or where they stopped on the way. We assume they were well off because they have treasure chests, but we have no idea how well off. If they were wealthy, did they arrive with a retinue of servants and if so, were there places in ancient that could accommodate large numbers of important guests?

The magi capture our imagination simply because they are mysterious. They have access to secret knowledge, they not only notice, but they understand the meaning of a new star in the sky, and they are in possession of treasure chests of rare and wonderous gifts – gold, frankincense and myrrh. They appear out of nowhere and then disappear out of view. 

It is only Matthew who mentions the magi and the star, and he tells us only what he wants us to know.  We want to know so much more. Instead of trying to understand Matthew’s purpose in including the magi in the story, we are tempted to focus on the details – the missing details. In art and song, theology and story we have named three of the magi – Caspar, Melchior, Balthasar – have given them countries of origin – Arabia, Persia and India and have built legends around them. Matthew’s expression “magi” (Gk magous), meaning wise man or magician can make us uncomfortable. So based on Old Testament texts like those we’ve read this morning, we are tempted to call them kings. Alternatively, we try to give definition to the notion of “wise men” – suggesting that they were astrologers, philosophers, students of the mysterious, or the intellectuals and scientists of their times. 

The truth is that we do not know any more than Matthew chooses to tell us and Matthew tells us only what he wants us to know. Matthew did not envisage that his magi would delight his readers to the point that they would build myths around them. Matthew’s intention was that the magi, and their visit to the Christ child would (rather like the star) point us to the deeper meaning of their presence in the story. If we focus on why the magi are part of the story, we will see that that they play a number of roles, roles that both inform and challenge our faith.

In no particular order: 

  1. The magi study the scriptures and pay attention to the changes in the world around them. They discern that a change in the heavens suggests that the divine is at work in the world.
  2. The magi are open to God’s action in the world and do not limit their understanding of God to a narrow, formulaic, static vision of the divine. They see the possibility that God might be known in ways they have not yet experienced or thought of. 
  3. The magi have the courage to step out of their comfort zone, to take risks of faith, to follow a sign even though they do not know where it will lead.
  4. The magi pay attention to the voice of the divine communicating through a dream. 
  5. The magi contribute to Matthew’s desire to demonstrate that Jesus is the fulfilment of prophecy; “so it has been written by the prophet” he claims of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem.
  6. The magi introduce Matthew’s intention to defend the inclusion of the Gentiles in the emerging church. (Even though he will have Jesus say to the disciples: “Go only to the lost sheep of Israel.”) In this, the most Jewish of the gospels, Matthew begins and ends with those outside the fold. Here at the beginning, these non-Jewish magi seek Jesus out and pay homage to him. As the gospel concludes Jesus will send the disciples out into every nation.
  7. The magi identify Jesus as the “King of the Jews”, the title which will be given to him by Pilate on the cross. At the same time, their presence sets the scene for conflict. Another king in Palestine, however legitimate, will create divided loyalties, something that cannot be tolerated in Caesar’s Empire.
  8. The magi give to Jesus gifts that are precious and rare (and which may have the deeper meaning that have since been attributed to them.)

Our fascination with these mysterious and wondrous characters is intended to encourage us to delve deeper – not to be distracted by creating legends – filling in the gaps with names, professions and countries. Our task is  to ask ourselves what purpose they serve in Matthew’s account, what they have to tell us today, and how might they challenge our own faith lives.

Do we continually study our scripture so that we might see what we have not yet seen? Have we allowed our image of God to become calcified, limited and unchanging? Has our faith become limited by creed and dogma? Can we allow ourselves to believe that just as the ancient faith of the Israelites expanded to include Gentiles, that God might yet have something new in store for us? Are we willing to take steps into the unknown, confident that God will lead us? When we see Jesus are we overwhelmed with joy?

If we answer “no” to any of those questions perhaps it is time to seek out the star and follow wherever it is that God is leading us.

Dismissive teenager – Jesus in the Temple

December 28, 2024

Christmas 1 – 2024

Luke 2: 41-52

Marian Free

in the name of God who cannot be contained in mere words, simple stories or inaccurate histories. Amen.

In the Christmas carol, Once in Royal David’s City we sing the words; “for that child so dear and gentle.” In the Book of Hebrews we read: “For it was fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, blameless, undefiled, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens.(7:6)” and “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin.” (Heb 4:15).

Song and scripture lead us to conclude that the child Jesus was always obedient to his parents, never said a cross word, was kind to his siblings, his friends and neighbours, always cheerful and so on. This is well and good, but we actually know little to nothing of Jesus’ childhood except that it seems to have been spent in Galilee (possibly in Nazareth) and that he had brothers and sisters. There is also a reference to hisi father being a craftsperson of some sort, traditionally a carpenter.

The only biblical record that we have of Jesus before he began his public ministry is this one recorded only by Luke (and the much later in Gospel of the Infancy of Jesus). 

Other accounts of Jesus’ childhood do exist in the Apocrypha. These are by and large legendary, fantastical, even disturbing. They recount that miracles occur in relation to the infant Jesus and that the child Jesus performs miracles. For example, you may have heard the legend of the spider who spun a web at the entrance of the cave in which Mary and Joseph were hiding from the soldiers, but perhaps you have not heard the truly apocryphal story from The History of Joseph the Carpenter. Joseph and Mary have taken refuge in the home of a brigand. There, Jesus is bathed, and his bath water miraculously bubbles up into a foam. The brigand’s wife has the foresight to keep the foam which she then uses to heal the sick and the dying. As a result, the brigand’s family become very rich. 

It is in The Infancy Gospel of Thomas, that we discover what are purported to be details of the life of Jesus as a child, but the picture it presents is one that I think most of us would reject out of hand[1]. The child Jesus is recorded not only as one who heals and raises from the dead, but also as one who strikes down (dead) those who disagree with or provoke him.  He is rude and disrespectful not only to his parents but also to his teacher. On one occasion, as Jesus was going through the village, a child ran and dashed against his shoulder.  This provoked Jesus who “said unto him: Thou shalt not finish thy course. (VI.1) And immediately the child fell down and died. Those who lived in his neighbourhood lived in fear (not reverence) of this young Jesus. “No one dared provoke him lest he should curse him and should be maimed.” (VII.I)

My point is, that after Jesus’ birth, the gospels are silent regarding Jesus’ early life, his adolescence and his 20’s. The only recorded story is that which we have read today – an account of a precocious adolescent who causes his parents great anxiety by failing to join the party who are returning home to Galilee after the Passover festival in Jerusalem. At twelve Jesus would have many of the responsibilities of an adult.  He would not have been expected to be with his parents for the duration of the visit, but he would have been expected to be with his fellow travellers when they began the journey back to Galilee.

Mary and Joseph simply expect him to be with the party, so it takes three days before they notice that he is not with them. We can imagine what was going through their heads – had he stumbled along the way or been attacked by robbers? was he lying injured somewhere along the route? if he was still in Jerusalem, what had detained him, with whom was he staying? No doubt they envisaged worse case scenarios. He had been hurt, he was dead, he had been kidnapped. 

(Meda Stamper points out that the word translated ‘anxiously’ is not the verb normally used for worry (Luke 12:22–31; 10:41). It is perhaps more akin to the soul-piercing sword of 2:35 “to cause pain”. It appears elsewhere in the New Testament only two other times. In Luke 16:24–25, it refers to the rich man’s agony in the flames of Hades. In Acts 20:38, it refers to Paul’s grief-stricken friends when he says they will never see him again. When Mary rebukes Jesus for having left his parents, she is referring to their agony at the prospect of losing their child.)[2]

Mary and Joseph return to Jerusalem and, after some searching, find Jesus in the Temple. Jesus is quite cavalier, he dismisses their (sword piercing) anxiety out of hand. As a typical teenager, he implies that his parents were foolish for worrying, foolish for not guessing what he was up to and where he was. (It is only afterthis even that Luke tells us that Jesus was obedient to them – suggesting that he thinks that Jesus is out of order here.)

There is so little information about Jesus’ early life or his life in general. It is tempting to fill in the gaps, (as has occurred in the Apocrypha), to make assumptions about the sort of person Jesus was, the sort of child he might have been. This may settle our curiosity, but instead of increasing our knowledge it simply creates misinformation and leads us to create the sort of Jesus we would like to imagine – a perfect, compliant baby, a perfect, compliant child, a perfect, compliant adolescent.  But if Jesus was fully human, we have to allow that he tested the boundaries when he was two years old, that he was rebellious as a teenager and that he chose his own path as a young man.[3]

We have to take care that we don’t mythologise Jesus (make him perfect, less than human), that we don’t read into the story things that simply are not there, and that we don’t create a story out of nothing.  Sometimes we have to be content with not knowing all the details. often times we have to concede that. we will never know all there is to know and at all times we have to remember that there is always far more than that which God has already revealed to us. 


[1] It is very short, you can read it here: http://www.gnosis.org/library/inftoma.htm

[2] Meda Stamper https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/first-sunday-of-christmas-3/commentary-on-luke-241-52-6

[3] After all, contrary to societal expectation he appears not to have married.

Christmas – the powerlessness of God

December 24, 2024

Christmas Eve – 2024

Marian Free

In the name of God, who comes to us as a vulnerable baby insisting on our cooperation in the building of a just, compassionate and caring world. Amen.

I am conscious that many of us come to this Christmas burdened with the state of the world – the encroaching collapse of democracy,  the internal strife in more nations than I can name, the horrific wars in and between so many nations and the toll they are taking on human lives and on infrastructure, the increasing ferocity of natural disasters – bushfires, hurricanes, tornados, earthquakes and floods –  and of our feelings of helplessness as we  watch tragedies unfold all around us. 

How does the birth of a child speak into this situation? Collectively we seem to be worse off, not better off as a consequence. It is clear that 2025 years ago, God did not sweep in and end injustice, oppression and corruption for all time; just as God did not forever disarm the natural forces of this planet.

In Christ God did not burst on to the scene and make everything right – just the opposite. What God did in Christ was to expose God’s powerless. In Christ, God gives us a glimpse into who and what God is and into what God can and cannot do.

That said, the birth of Jesus is God’s masterstroke, because it is the baby that catches our attention. Few people are unmoved by the vulnerability and the innocence of a newborn.  Most of us are filled with the desire to protect, nurture and love an infant into maturity. More than that, at Christmas time, we are captivated by the humble domestic scene of an ordinary family, and we find ourselves in awe of the miraculous – the star, the angels and the magi. It is no wonder that at this moment that our love of God is at its strongest as we kneel in homage with the shepherds and the magi, and our hearts are warmed by the thought of God’s love for us.

This is as it should be, but the danger is, that this warm glow blinds us the real meaning of Jesus’ birth and that our faith and that our concept of God does not extend much beyond the comfort and hope expressed in many a nativity scene and that we do not grasp what this scene really tells us about God. 

The birth of this child is so much more than the fulfillment of a promise, and so much more than the assurance of God’s presence with us. This birth brings us face-to-face with a confronting truth. This infant is God. God the creator of the universe is here, lying on the straw, totally dependent on Mary and Joseph for his every need and completely defenceless against the wrath of Herod. The one to whom we look for intervention in the world, the one to whom we attribute all the power and might is at this moment in time utterly powerless.

Here perhaps is the nub of Christmas – that the very being to whom we entrust our lives, entrusts us with their life. This baby, the Christ-child tells us that the presence and power of God in the world is in our hands. God is in our hands – not in the sense that we can control, manipulate or coerce God, but in the sense that God is powerless because we have it within ourselves to thwart, obstruct and to sabotage God’s plans for the world and for humanity.

Christmas, the coming of God into the world in such an unexpected, humble and vulnerable manner, is a reminder that we are in partnership with God, that we are co-creators with God and that from the beginning God entrusted us with the world and with each other. That means that if the world is not as we would wish it to be – it is on us, not God. When we wring our hands and bemoan the state of the world and when we wonder why God is not doing more to intervene, we overlook our complicity in the problems of the world and our failure to cooperate with the one who created us. We forget the helplessness revealed in the infant Jesus.

You see, God did not create humankind so that God could spend eternity cleaning up the mess that we make as a consequence of our selfishness, greed, and grasping for power. God created humanity in the hope that we would work together with God to build a just, compassionate and equitable world. God gave us the power to change the world for good or ill and more often than we have let down our side of the equation.

At Christmas, God once more brings us face-to-face with reality, with the gap between the hope offered by the Christ-child and the despair that still afflicts the lives of many, the gap between the innocence of the babe and the corruption that continues to exist in many parts of the world, and the gap between the potential of the Prince of Peace and the conflicts that rage in more places than we can name. 

The infant in the manger has no power to throw down world leaders, to destroy the arms of war, or to end the need for security and comfort that builds barriers between ourselves and others. Yet, what power this child has – the power to enter our hearts, the power to draw from us love and awe, the power to inspire us to work for peace and justice, and the power to remind us of the power that we have been given to work with and for God for the good of all.  

The life of this child is in our hands. The future of the world is in our power. How will we respond?

What will we do with the precious gift that God has given us?

Elizabeth welcomes Mary

December 21, 2024

Advent 4 – 2024

Luke 1:39-35

Marian Free

In the name of God who alone can see into our hearts and who alone can judge between good and evil, right and wrong. Amen.

Many years ago, at church, I met a woman who worked as a prostitute. I’ll call her Jan. She was a remarkable person. After a powerful religious experience, she gave up drugs, alcohol and smoking! When Billy Graham came to Australia for what was to be his last visit, Jan attended a rally and was one of those who responded to the altar call. The team who were on hand to counsel and pray with those who had committed their lives to God recommended that she become a member of her nearest church. This happened to be the church where I was serving my curacy. As was the custom, the counsellor ran me to alert me to look out for Jan saying only that Jan had been at the rally and that she had made a confession of faith. 

There was no hint of judgement. No mention was made of her profession. This was something Jan shared over a meal after one of the services. She also felt safe enough to. tell the Parish Priest. You see, even though Jan had given up smoking, drinking and drugs, she was not in a position to stop working. Jan owed her drug dealers $5000 and no other way to repay them and, surprisingly, they were prepared to wait.

One day Jan rang me in tears. She was absolutely distraught. Her Christian psychologist had accused her of not being a true believer. Despite being a psychologist, he appears to have been a black and white thinker. In his mind, if Jan had truly given her life to Christ she would have given up prostitution. (He didn’t offer any advice with regard to the debt, nor did he offer to pay it for her.) Jan was made to feel worthless, worse, that she had been rejected by God.

Jan was a person of integrity. While she continued working, she refused to be baptised. (In her own mind prostitution and faith didn’t belong together.) That afternoon, it took me the best part of an hour to reassure Jan and to convince her that God knew her heart and that her faith was sincere[1].

I remember being astounded that the supporters of Billy Graham (usually from a more conservative tradition) accepted Jan just as she was and saw her as a child of God. They made no demands and withheld judgement. I was absolutely aghast that an educated, psychologist, a member of the ‘caring’ profession thought that it was in Jan’s best interest that he insinuate that she was not worthy of God’s love as long as she continued working. In so doing, this psychologist utterly undermined Jan’s confidence that she was a child of God, utterly beloved and accepted and instead left her completely bereft, uncertain of her place in the kingdom.

How different the encounter between Elizabeth and her young cousin! Mary unmarried and pregnant, a source of shame not only for Mary but for her whole family turns up unexpectedly. Elizabeth, caught up in her own untimely God-given pregnancy would have been justified in sending Mary away, or at the very least have greeted Mary with questions, cynicism and judgement. After all, if Elizabeth welcomes Mary into her home, Elizabeth is, by implication, indicating her support of Mary’s out-of-wedlock pregnancy. Instead, led by the Spirit, Elizabeth is able to see God at work in Mary’s pregnancy and to rejoice that Mary’s role was to be more significant than her own. 

We take it for granted that Elizabeth should respond to Mary in this way because that is how Luke choses to tell the story. We forget that Mary has turned up unannounced, has made a difficult journey (on her own which in itself is shocking) over a considerable distance and that Elizabeth greets her before Mary has a chance to explain herself. It would not have been at all surprising had Elizabeth thought that Mary was trying to escape her situation and her shame, hoping that her cousin would provide refuge and allow her to hide away from the prying judgement eyes of her neighbours, but Elizabeth’s openness and receptivity to the presence of God allow her to see a different story.

We live in a world that is increasing quick to judge. We are drowning in social media that provides a platform for those who want to promote their own hardline views and those who find s a sense of self-worth in condemning others. 

The encounter between Elizabeth is a reminder of how important it is that we withhold our judgement of another unless and until we are sure that we know all the circumstances behind their behaviour, more important still is to err on the side of caution unless and until we are absolutely confident that we know the mind of God. To do less might be to reject and condemn something that is the work of God or to rebuff and judge harshly someone in whom God’s will is being enacted.  

Like so many biblical accounts, the lesson to take from the meeting between two cousins is not just the miracle of recognition, but the miracle of receptivity to the work of God – in the world and in each one of us.  When we are truly open to the presence of God in ourselves and in others and when we allow our judgement to be guided by the Holy Spirit, we are better able to see all people as children of God, to love and accept them as God does, and even to recognise that God just might be teaching us something through their presence in our lives. 


[1] A year or two later Jan rang to tell me that she had given up the work and was going to be baptised.

The meaning of repentance (John the Baptist 2)

December 15, 2024

Advent 3 – 2024

Luke 3:7-18 (thoughts)

Marian Free

In the name of God who sees into our very hearts. Amen

In Advent we read the story of John in two parts- last week, John’s baptism of repentance (and his role as the voice crying in the wilderness) and this week, the response of the crowds and John’s advice. Luke’s account gives us more detail than the other gospels and (as is typical of the author of Luke) is more inclusive. Among the crowds who come out to seek baptism are the reviled – the tax collectors and soldiers, persons associated with the Roman occupation, corruption, and extortion – those whom we might expect to be judged as unsuitable for the kingdom (guilty of the unforgivable).

Interestingly, John doesn’t exactly welcome the crowds – the exact opposite in fact. Listening to him speak to the crowds, you would think that he had no interest at all in ‘preparing the way’. When he addresses the people, John’s language is accusatory, direct. There is no subtlety or middle ground for John, the wild man of the desert.

Despite his preaching a message of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, he does not appear to appreciate the response he has received. He is in no mood to offer baptism to just anyone. He questions the sincerity of those who have come out to find him, he doesn’t seem to accept that they have responded to his message, have acknowledged their failings and are ready to repent. He wonders if they are simply self serving, if it is self interest, not genuine repentance that draws them into the desert. John calls them a brood of vipers, asks who warned them to flee from the wrath to come, and insists that their repentance be demonstrated through their actions so that it is evident that they are not simply intent on saving their skins, but really have determined to turn their lives around.

John goes even further. He challenges any idea his listeners might have that their Jewishness might help to save them – “even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees” to thin out those that don’t bear fruit. He warns that: “God can raise up children to Abraham from these stones”. (What matters – as Paul will later make clear – is not a person’s heritage (Jew or Gentile) but their relationship with God.)

Clearly he has put the wind up his audience. It seems that his attack on them has had an effect. Their easy confidence has been shattered. They are all concerned that they understand what John means by repentance, what it means to bear good fruit. The crowds, the tax-collectors, and the soldiers are all anxious to do the right thing. Each in turn ask what it is they must do, in other words what would true repentance look like for them. In each instance John’s advice is practical and doable. He doesn’t suggest that they reach for the impossible or demand that they do something that will lead to their lives being impoverished. What is more, John’s responses are tailor made for his questioners. While there is an underlying theme – that they show by their actions their concern for others, things that will not only show that they are sincere, but which will bring them peace of mind, the actions demanded of each group are particular to their situation.

In response to the question of the crowds: “What shall we do?” John encourages generosity. Those with more than enough should share with those who do not. In response to the tax-collectors’ question: “What shall we do?” John tells them to only collect what they are required to collect (not to enrich themselves at the expense of others). In response to the question of the soldiers: “What shall we do?” John advises that they should be content with what they earn and not extort money by threats or false accusations. In effect, John is saying to them all: “be satisfied with what you have, do not strive to have more than you need, and above all do not try to enrich yourselves at the expense of others.”

You will no doubt have noticed that Luke’ focus is on wealth. Repentance is repentance for having (or wanting to have) more than enough.

“What should we do?”

This Advent as we prepare our hearts for the coming of God among us (as he did and as he will) let us strive to live lives that are authentic, generous and just, let us endeavour not to hold on to our possessions but to be generous towards those who have less and, recognising God’s abundant generosity towards us, let us be content, indeed more than content with what we have.