A reason to party

March 9, 2013

Lent 4

Forgiving Father Luke 15:11-32

Marian Free

In the name of God whose love always welcomes us back. Amen.

Whenever the parable of the forgiving Father is read, more often than not I am told: “I really relate to the older brother!” This is a significant reaction and it tells us three things. One is that the sting in the parable has not been properly understood. A second is that it is very hard for most of us to let go of our egos. We are so bound up with concepts of fairness and judgement and we allow the injustices experienced in our past to dominate and determine our feelings in the present. The third is perhaps the most serious.  As the Father is clearly meant to represent God, our discomfort (resentment) at the treatment of the prodigal tells us something about our trust or lack of trust in God.

There are a number of differences between the two fictional sons. The older is sensible and responsible, willing to conform to societal and family norms and to work for his father until his father dies and passes his share of the property to him. We can imagine that, as a result, his life has had very few highs and lows. He has just gone about his business day by day secure in the knowledge that he has shelter, enough to eat and some sort of a future. He may even believe that he has all that he needs.

The younger brother is the opposite. He is reckless, irresponsible and impetuous. This son has no thought for centuries of tradition or for the respectability of his family. All he thinks about is himself. Half the property is due to him. His father can manage financially and otherwise without him. Why not take his share of the property now? Why not see the world and have adventures while he is still young enough to do so? Why submit himself to the humdrum of daily existence at home when the world has so much more to offer?

One stays and the other goes, with alarming consequences for both.  The younger son very quickly discovers that going it alone is not all that he had dreamed it would be. In a distant land, starving and condemned to feeding pigs he realises how good home really was. Having chosen adventure, he now longs for security. Aren’t his father’s servants better off than he is? What is he doing? Life as his father’s servant would be better than his present conditions. The humiliation of admitting that he was wrong, of confessing that he has squandered his inheritance and the shame of ending his days as a servant or slave are nothing compared to the degradation he is currently experiencing. He has sunk as low as it is possible to sink. Returning home cannot make him feel any worse.

The older son stays at home satisfied that he is doing the right thing. Possibly he even thinks that he is content. However, while his brother is away learning about the world, the older sibling has nothing to challenge his sense of security, nothing to force him to question whether he has made the right choice. He is relying on history and tradition to justify his position and, had his brother never come home, he might have remained smugly content, sure that he was the favoured son. After all, wasn’t he the one doing the right thing?

All the certainty of the older son is thrown into disarray when the younger son comes home. Instead of being met with censure and condemnation this wayward child is met with rejoicing! It is impossible for the older son to make sense of what is happening. His own certainly that he was doing what was right has not prepared him for something so totally unexpected. He has not learnt the lessons that his brother has been forced to learn. He has not descended to the place which has forced him to see his own short comings and to value what he does have, in particular his father’s love for him. He has based his decisions on a belief that his father needs him and has failed to realise his need for his father. His very “goodness” and his strict observance of societal norms have confirmed his sense of his own value and have ill-equipped him to understand either his brother, or his father’s reaction. His black and white view of right and wrong and his lack of self-knowledge will not allow him to move beyond conformity to compassion.

As we can see from the first few verses of chapter 15, Jesus is telling this parable against the Pharisees. Like the older son, they have relied on their observance of the Jewish tradition for their salvation. In doing so however they, like the older son, have lost sight of their dependence on God and on God’s grace. Instead of seeking a genuine relationship based on an honest view of themselves, they have developed some sort of replacement for a relationship based on formulas and rules. Their resultant self-assurance means that they have no reason to look beyond the surface of their lives to see that they are in fact self-righteous, judgemental, unforgiving and self-serving. They don’t understand that by hiding their real selves behind observance of rules and the keeping of traditions, they are not only limiting their growth, but they are also denying themselves an authentic relationship with God. At the same time, they are so used to measuring themselves against those who don’t measure up that they cannot comprehend that God might be able to have a more meaningful relationship with those who are more aware of and more readily acknowledge their imperfections. So it is with the older son.

Richard Rohr suggests that: “Sooner or later, if you are on any classic ‘spiritual schedule’, some event, person, death, idea, or relationship will enter your life that you simply cannot deal with, using your present skill set, your acquired knowledge, or your strong willpower. Spiritually speaking, you will be, you must be, led to the edge of your own spiritual resources.”[1] Sometimes, like the younger son, we need something to shake us out of our complacency, to help us to accept the love of God in our lives and to realise that ultimately nothing less than complete dependence on God will satisfy the longing of our souls. Until that point, we remain like the older son, limited to a superficial relationship with God, reliant on sterile observance of laws. We think that we have to earn God’s love and, blind to our own flaws and imperfections, we resent God’s generosity to others because we have not fully understood the generosity of God’s love for us.

The older son was not a bad person, just as the Pharisees were not bad Jews. Their mistake was a failure to understand that God’s love could not be bought by obeying rules and by observing traditions. They could not comprehend that it was in God’s nature to love and that as God loved them despite their shortcomings, so God loved all those who did not live up to their high standards. What the Pharisees and the older son simply did not understand is God’s love just cannot be bought. It is ours for free. It is when we truly comprehend how much our flawed, imperfect selves are loved by God that we understand God’s desire and right to extend that love to others. Knowing ourselves flawed and yet loved, lost and now found, we will be incapable of resentfully standing outside. Instead we will joyously and gratefully join in the celebrations, knowing that we ourselves are a cause for the party.


[1] Rohr, Richard. Falling Upwards: Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life. San Francisco: Jossey Bass, 2011, 65.

Contradiction

March 2, 2013

Lent 3 – 2013

Luke 13:31-35 (Isaiah 55:1-9, 1 Cor 10:1-13)

Marian Free

In the name of God who turns our expectations upside down, who challenges and comforts us and who never, ever withdraws God’s love. Amen.

When you read the Bible, what are the passages that stand out for you? Are you more alert for the voice of judgement or the voice of love? Do you look out for the rules that you must not break and the specific directions that you must follow, or do you instead seek out the promises of growth and new creation? From start to finish, the Bible is full of contradiction.  In it we find both censure and approval, judgement and forgiveness, punishment and redemption, restraint and extravagance.

The Old Testament prophets threaten the Israelites with all kinds of penalties if they refuse to return to God then, almost without taking breath, they assure the people that God will never abandon them. Side by side in Isaiah, Jeremiah and Hosea and elsewhere we have evidence of God’s frustration and confirmation of God’s faithfulness. The Gospels express similar contradictions. Calls to repent are balanced by stories of the lost being restored. Jesus’ attacks on the righteous throw into relief Jesus’ acceptance of those outside the law.

This morning’s readings are a case in point. The generosity and free-spirited invitation of Isaiah 55 stands in stark contrast with the harsh, judgmental and condemnatory sentiments of 1 Corinthians 10.

How are we to make sense of the paradox – judgement and repeal, condemnation and forgiveness, law and freedom? It is my belief that both sides of the coin are necessary to sustain healthy individuals, healthy societies and healthy religions. Freedom is essential for creative energy to thrive, for people to love and be loved, for compassion and generosity. None of these things can be forced or legislated. On the other hand, lawlessness leads to disintegration, violence and repression. Without some sort of law no one can achieve their full potential.

There needs to be some sort of balance between law and freedom.  It is not healthy to be completely unrestrained, but neither is it good to be so restrained that we forget how to live. If we fence ourselves in with rules, we reduce our ability to be spontaneous and carefree. Somewhere in the middle is an equilibrium, an ability to self-regulate, to use the rules and the threats of judgement to control our baser instincts and to trust in God’s goodness and mercy to liberate our finer, more selfless characteristics.

Interestingly, in the Bible, it is not disobedience or even the breaking of the Ten Commandments which is the source of God’s anger and the pre-condition for punishment. What causes the prophets to proclaim God’s judgement and Jesus to condemn the people of Israel is a breakdown in the relationship between the people and God.

God doesn’t expect perfection. That much is clear in God’s choice of Jacob the deceiver, God’s selection of Moses the murderer and God’s continued love for David the adulterer. That God is not looking for flawless followers is demonstrated by Jesus’ choice of disciples, Jesus’ readiness to forgive and Jesus’ easy acceptance of tax collectors and sinners.

It appears that the primary safeguard against condemnation is not so much to be law-abiding (though that is good), but to accept God’s invitation to be in relationship, to trust God’s offer of a covenant, to believe in God’s faithfulness to God’s promises.

Jesus weeps over Jerusalem, not because its citizens have failed to keep the law _ if nothing else, the Pharisees were assiduous keepers of the law.  Jesus weeps because the people of Jerusalem, the leaders of the Jews, have demonstrated their inability to put their trust in God. The Pharisees, Chief Priests and Scribes have put all their trust in the law and their ability to keep the law. They are so sure that they can achieve perfection by their own effort that they have effectively locked God out of their lives. They have so little confidence in God’s love and faithfulness that they are using the law to paper over their imperfections. They are so afraid that scrutiny will find them wanting that they kill the prophets who hold a mirror to them and to their lives. They cannot have a real relationship with God because they cannot have a real relationship with themselves.

No wonder Jesus weeps, he understands that the Jerusalemites are so sure that God cannot love them as they are, that they not only try to become what they are not, but worse, they shrink from God, they refuse God’s invitation and will not be drawn into God’s loving embrace.

How different they are from Zacchaeus who has the courage to respond to Jesus’ invitation and who finds that his life is transformed as a result. How different from the woman who anointed Jesus’ feet, who could take such a risk because instinctively she knew that she was loved and accepted. “Law-breakers” and outsiders who already knew and accepted their imperfections welcomed Jesus’ love and invitation, entered into a relationship and allowed themselves to be gathered under his wings.

Law and freedom together create a necessary life-giving tension in our relationship with God. An over-reliance on law can have the effect of locking God out of our lives whereas an over-emphasis on freedom can lead us to believe that we don’t need God. It is important to relish our freedom, but to understand its bounds, to trust in God’s unconditional love, but not to use that love as an excuse to be unloveable, to recognise that law has its place, but not to use it as a replacement for relationship.

God invites us into a relationship that is based on mutual trust and respect. God offers us an unconditional love that sets us free to be ourselves. To say “yes” to God, is to say “yes” to ourselves and to know ourselves welcome in the shadow of God’s wings.

 

 

 

 

 

A matter of heaven or hell

February 23, 2013

Lent 2 – 2013

Luke 13:1-9

Marian Free

Figs

Figs

In the name of God who created all things, and saw that they were good. Amen.

Today’s gospel reading includes two discrete parts. A couple of sayings about repentance are followed by a parable about growth.  The first sayings certainly get our attention – Galileans whose blood Pilate mixed with their sacrifices and 18 crushed by a falling tower. Shocking as these events are they are not a sign that those killed were more sinful than others. All of us need to repent. Luke follows these sayings with the parable of the fig tree. Repentance alone is not sufficient, believers are called to grow into full maturity rather than to rest on their laurels for the remainder of their lives. (Salvation is not dependent on a one off decision, but process that begins when we repent and turn to God.)

Jesus’ parable about the fig tree is often misunderstood. An emphasis on keeping the ten commandments and doing good works has led to the conclusion that if the fig tree will only be spared if it produces fruit, that we will only be spared if we can manage to build up a folio of good works that can be measured on the day of judgement. However, in this instance, as in most cases in the New Testament, fruit represents much more than external deeds or measurable goodness. As the parable implies, the fig’s bearing fruit is dependent on its receiving enough fertilizer – that is, on its internal health. Fruit trees in general are very reliant on nourishment, they cannot bear fruit unless they have been properly fed and watered. (The first and only time that my parent’s persimmon bore fruit was the year after the ’74 flood had deposited a substantial amount of fertile silt on their garden.)

Many fruit trees need to reach maturity before they bear fruit. Figs generally take two or three years to be well enough established to produce figs and then they will produce best only if they have been given a good start in life – planted in the right situation and fed and watered well. Without help, a fruit tree will probably attain a reasonable height and appear to be growing well, but without the required fertiliser, no amount of growth will produce fruit.

It is possible that Luke combined the sayings about repentance with the parable of the fig tree because he understood that a change of heart (repentance) was required before growth (maturity) could occur. Conversely, repentance alone is not enough, but is a pre-requisite for future development. A change of heart – repentance – creates the sort of internal environment that allows fruit (the external evidence of change and growth) to be produced. That being the case, it becomes clear that Jesus is speaking of fruit (behaviour) which is driven by a relationship with God that is strong and healthy and which is nurtured and developed by the presence of the Holy Spirit. Seen in this light, fruit refers much less to good deeds and much more to the characteristics that result from such a change of heart.

Paul understood this when he wrote of the fruit of the spirit. When he lists the fruit he doesn’t refer to keeping the commandments or doing good deeds but to the external signs of a person at peace with God, with themselves and with the world. Love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, patience and self-control are the fruit that we are to bear. These are the characteristics that will be a sign of our growing spiritual maturity.

Jesus’ challenge to the disciples that they are not to make the mistake of believing that their turning to him (repentance) is some simplistic, easy fix that will ensure their salvation. Turning to Jesus is only the first step in a process of development that will continue for the rest of their lives and that development, as the parable indicates, will need to be encouraged, fed and nurtured.

Richard Rohr considers spiritual development in his book Falling Upward – a spirituality for the two halves of life[1]. He argues that many people never develop beyond the superficial declaration of faith. Having come to faith, they fail to feed and nurture the depths of their being such that they bear meaningful fruit as a result of their faith. Because they do not pay enough attention to what is going on internally, their external lives never really change. They cannot bear fruit because they have not developed a healthy spirituality that can drive their behaviour.

Rohr suggests that this internal growth is at the core of all religious practice and that it is essential not only for the individual but for the world as a whole. This he claims is because: “God gives us our soul, our deepest identity, our True Self, our unique blueprint at our own ‘immaculate conception’. We are given a span of years to discover it, to choose it and to live our destiny to the full. Our True Self will never be offered again”. The unique person that is ourself has this life only to be the unique person God intends us to be, to achieve the unique goals God has in mind for us and to contribute to the world the unique gifts with which God has endowed us. Our one essential task in this life is to discover and to be that True Self, that unique part of God’s creation. Rohr believes that this task is absolutely imperative for all of us. Heaven and earth, all that is, depend upon our trying to become the person God intended us to be.

Because the implications of this task are so vast, its importance cannot be underestimated. In fact, Rohr suggests, it is because so much is dependent on our spiritual health that the discussion surrounding it is accompanied by such emotionally charged words as “heaven” and “hell”. It is why the vineyard owner threatens to uproot the tree when it is not fulfilling its purpose, why the call to repentance is set in the context of such shocking stories as the slaying of the Galileans and the fall of the Tower of Siloam. The consequence of not nurturing our souls is not something to be taken lightly – it has ramifications for the future of the whole world.

If we allow ourselves grow into our souls, to become the unique being envisaged by God at our creation, God’s purpose not only for us but for the world will be achieved. If we do not grow into our own unique being we hinder God’s purpose, we fail to make our own unique contribution and we refuse the invitation to take part in bringing about the coming of God’s Kingdom.

The purpose of the fig is to bear figs. Without fruit it is taking up space, that could be used to grow something else. It is not fulfilling the purpose for which it was created. Our purpose is to grow into our full identity, that unique self that God has given us and by doing so to share with God in bringing about the kingdom, the salvation of the world.

 


[1] Rohr, Richard. Falling Upward – a spirituality for the two halves of life. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2011, ix. Note: I acknowledge that I have used Rohr as my starting point, but I am aware that  he may not agree with my use of his premise.

The wilderness of our hearts

February 16, 2013

Lent 1 – 2013

Luke 4:1-13

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who longs for us to see ourselves more clearly and having done so to submit ourselves to the transforming power of God. Amen.

‘Sugar and spice and all things nice, that’s what little girls are made of. Slugs and snails and puppy dog tails, that’s what little boys are made of.’ To think that many of us used to recite this silly, sexist rhyme! But what are we made of? Beyond the obvious skin and bones, do many of us really know what lies beneath? Do we really know our strengths and recognise our weaknesses? Do we know what triggers or events might lead us to act nobly and selflessly? Alternately, can we begin to imagine forces or situations which would lead us to behave basely or cruelly?

I suspect that it is impossible to know ahead of time how we will react in situations that demand courage, resilience or moral fortitude. Fear, timidity and an unwillingness to stand out from the crowd can prevent people from acting as they should or worse, they can cause people to behave in ways that are cowardly, cruel and self-serving. History is littered with instances of good people failing to act in the face of evil. The past is crowded with examples of a mob mentality leading otherwise reasonable people to behave in violent or rash ways. The world stood silent in the face of the Nazi gas chambers and still seems unable to act against oppressive or unjust regimes.  The insanity of the mob leads to disregard for law and order and the destruction of property as was witnessed in Brixton, in Cronulla and elsewhere.

After the event, those who were silent might say: “I was too afraid to speak out.” Those who were caught up with the crowd might respond: “I thought they would kill me if I didn’t join in.” There is always a reason or justification for such behaviour. No one likes to believe that they deliberately acted in a way that led to or contributed to another’s injury or harm or which saw another abased or killed because of their failure to act. No one likes to think that they could have a propensity for cruelty or indifference, that they would join in with the crowd or that they would stand silent in the face of grave injustice.

On the other hand, the past is equally populated with ordinary people who, in the face of danger, have exhibited extraordinary courage and who have risked their own safety to save the life of another – the by-stander who pulls a person from a burning car, the surfer who without thought rushes to the aid of someone attacked by a shark, the solider who exposes him or herself to enemy fire, to save another who is injured or dying. Every day, in a variety of different circumstances, people like you and I show what they are really made of. When asked about their heroic acts, such people often reply: “I didn’t think – I just did what needed to be done.” They don’t think of themselves as heroes because their action was so spontaneous. Until confronted with the situation they may not have known that they had such courage in them.

Some among us may have faced such challenges and may have confidence to know how they will respond in the face of danger or when someone is needed to speak out. Others of us can only imagine and hope that we would meet every difficulty and danger with grace, that even at the cost of our own lives we would challenge oppression, cruelty and injustice and that we would seek to heal and be healed, to understand and forgive (even if at first sight, healing, understanding and forgiveness is impossible to imagine).

The sad reality is that apathy, cruelty and lust for power exist side by side with integrity, compassion and selflessness in every human being and until we are tested we cannot be 100% sure how we will respond. Fortunately, it is not often that we are put to the test.

For Jesus it was different. Jesus had a very particular task. Jesus was called by God to serve God in the world and to bring about the salvation of humankind. This was a task that could only be achieved if Jesus was prepared to submit his life completely to God. Anything less would jeopardise the whole endeavour. His was a weighty responsibility. Jesus (and perhaps God) had to be sure that he was up to the task. He (and God) had to know that when it came to the crunch, he would not bow down to earthly authority, he would not waver in the face of opposition and he would not give up before the job was complete.

There was no opportunity for a dress rehearsal. Jesus only had one chance. When the moment came to be strong, to speak out or to suffer, Jesus had to know that he would not back down but would continue on the path that was set before him. So the spirit led him to the wilderness – to the emptiness and silence, to a place where there were no distractions, nothing to take his mind off himself, no social structures to ensure that his baser instincts were suppressed. In the desert then, Jesus came up against the darker side of himself. Deprivation and isolation brought to the surface ideas that may, until then, have been suppressed. He could do so much with the power that was his! Given who he was and the power that was at his disposal, it would have been easy for him to be self-serving (to use his gifts to enrich himself). Given God’s love and care for him, it would have been easy for him to take risks with his own safety, to force God to always be on the look out for him, protecting him and keeping him out of harm’s way. Then again, he could use his power for his own aggrandisement, he could force the world to bow to him and not to God.

Jesus heard the voice of his “other self”, the voice of temptation whispering in his ear – what he could do if he wanted to! He knew though, that this was not the self that he wanted to be – a self separated from and in competition with God. Using the words of scripture he pushed the other voice out of the picture and demonstrated that he could withstand every test and that he was ready to answer the call of God.

Finding out who we are and of what we are capable is one of the goals of Lent. Through fasting or prayer or giving up something that we thought we could do not without we create space in our lives. We make our own small internal wilderness and we can be surprised by what longings, what emotions, what insecurities rise to the surface.

In the stillness of this wilderness it is harder to escape from who we are. In the silence of this desert it is harder to quell thoughts we would rather ignore. In this place, without our usual distractions, we can come face-to-face with who we really are.

We can spend a lifetime running away from ourselves, avoiding our deeper issues, burying parts of ourselves that we wish were not there at all or we can take time out, have the courage to see who and what we really are and with the help of God dispel the demons that drive us and build up the character that we want to define us

Dust to Dust

February 12, 2013

Ash Wednesday – 2013

Dust to dust

I have just discovered a writer – William Stringfellow. He was quoted in another book and I was so impressed that I bought one of his books immediately. In A Simplicity of Faith, Stringfellow reflects on the death of his close friend Anthony Towne – a poet. Anthony died suddenly at age 51. What is interesting is that Stringfellow makes the claim that despite the suddenness, neither he nor Towne were caught by surprise by his death.

He meant by this that he and Towne had discussed death – not in a morbid way – and had come to see death as an essential part of life. By this he meant that they had come to see death as an essential part of life. Death was not something to be feared, but neither was it to be glorified. It simply was. All living things die.

Understanding that we are to die helps us to live – knowing that death awaits us all helps us not to take ourselves too seriously, to understand our insignificance in the wider scheme of things, to value this life and to make the most of it.

Today as we receive the ashes we are reminded that we are dust and will return to dust. The intention of the ritual is not to make us feel worthless, but to understand our complete dependence on God, to understand that without God we are nothing.

Throughout Lent, our goal is to develop our relationship with God, to more properly understand our place in the scheme of things and to humbly ask God transform us so that we might more truly become the people God calls us to be.

An Extraordinary story

February 9, 2013

Epiphany 5

Luke 5:1-10

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who calls us, imperfect though we are, to follow Jesus and to share the gospel with others. Amen.

Those among you whose enjoy puzzles will know the “Find the Difference” puzzles. Even those who do not enjoy puzzles may have had to find the difference between two pictures as part of their early schooling. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, the puzzle involves two almost identical pictures which are placed side by side. The observer is asked to find the differences. Usually, if there are say, ten differences, the first seven or so are relatively easy – the dog is black in picture (a) and white in picture (b), a cloud in picture (a) is missing in picture (b) and so on. However, the last couple of differences tend to be more subtle and are often overlooked. For example, the curtain in picture (a) has four pleats and in picture (b) it only has four.

It is a different exercise, but we can play “find the difference” using the gospels. Placing one or more gospel passages side by side allows us to note the different ways in which Jesus’ life and teaching is recorded by the different authors. For example, last week we noticed how differently Luke presents the account of Jesus in the synagogue and we made some educated guesses as to the reason for the differences. In his re-telling of the story, Luke is influenced by his social justice programme and his desire to demonstrate that the inclusion of the Gentiles was always part of God’s plan.

Having noted that Luke has a different agenda, it will therefore come as no surprise to note that Luke’s report of the call of Peter, Andrew, James and John is also quite different from that of Mark. This week we will have a look at the actual texts. (You might like to see how many differences you can spot.)

Mark 1:16-20 As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

Luke 5:1-10 Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signalled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.”

In comparing the readings we note, as we might expect, that Luke has expanded and elaborated Mark’s account. Another obvious difference is that the sea is given a different name. In Mark, Jesus walks by the Sea of Galilee, in Luke, the crowds press in on Jesus at the lake of Gennesaret. In Mark Peter and Andrew are fishing from the shore, James and John are mending their nets. In Luke all four have left their boats and are washing their nets. Luke includes a miraculous haul of fish which is not in Mark and while Mark leaps straight into the call of the disciples, Luke precedes the account with a vast amount of material not considered necessary to Mark – the birth narrative and the genealogy.

Those are the obvious differences. A more subtle difference, but one which is important for our understanding of the Gospel of Luke is this: Peter now has a boat, he and Andrew are not standing on the shore casting their nets but are boat-owners. The comparison between the two families has been softened or obliterated. James and John are no longer set apart by the fact that their family owns a boat and has servants – both sets of brothers now have a boat. Finally, in Luke Peter’s response to the miracle of the fish is a significant addition, as is his designation for Jesus – “Lord”.

To understand the changes made by Luke it is important to understand something about him and why he is writing. For the purpose of today’s gospel, we need to note again to whom the gospel is addressed: “most excellent Theophilus”.  Luke’s re-telling is influenced in no small part by the person to whom he is telling the story. From his name and Luke’s form of address we suspect that Theophilus is a wealthy person of some status who lives a long way distant from the villages of Galilee. This means that Luke has to tell the story in such a way that it will not only make sense to Theophilus, but also in such a way that it will not offend him.

In order to do this, Luke makes some basic changes in the way he tells Mark’s account. He moves the gospel to the city, removes the poor, uneducated people and makes it clear from the very beginning not only that Peter is a leader in the church but that Jesus is “Lord” – a title used for a prominent person in the Empire. Luke changes Peter’s socio-economic status and his role in the early church is established. Peter recognises and names Jesus and Jesus is named in a way that would indicate Jesus’ significance to Theophilus. (A poor fisherman and an itinerant preacher may not have grabbed the attention of Theophilus, but he is able to recognise a boat owner and a “lord” as people worthy of his attention.)

Luke would have had no thought that by changing the way he told the story, he was changing the story. He would have thought that he was faithfully recounting the story of Jesus and the church, but that he was doing it in such a way as to ensure its reception not only by Theophilus, but also to the whole of the Roman Empire.

It is extraordinary to think that a man from a tiny village in a remote part of the Empire, who was executed as a trouble-maker, should have made such an impact that his story was told at all. It is even more extraordinary that four people thought it so important that the story be told that they told it in such a way that others would grasp its significance. And perhaps, most extraordinary of all, is that two thousand years later, we are still telling the story and are moved to faith by it.

A window into Luke

February 2, 2013

Epiphany 4

Luke 4:21-30

Marian Free

In the name of God, whose son Jesus is revealed to us in the gospels. Amen.

Over the course of this year you will notice that our gospel readings come predominantly from the Gospel of Luke. The reason for this is that we are in the third year of the lectionary cycle. Over three successive years we read, almost in full, Matthew, Mark and Luke. (John does not have a year to itself, but is read during Easter and Lent during those years.)

We do not know anything about the author of the gospel of Luke, but we can deduce some things from the gospel and the way in which it is written. Luke, as Matthew, follows the same order as Mark, however Luke leaves out information and text which he (we presume the author was a “he”) considers unnecessary. For example, he completely omits chapters 6 and 7 of Mark possibly because they contain a number of repetitions. On the other hand, Luke is a storyteller and with just a few details is able to create a comprehensive picture or tell a compelling story. Two of the most well-known and loved stories in the New Testament are told only by Luke – the Good Samaritan and the Prodigal son both of which say a lot very succinctly. So, despite Luke’s preference for brevity, his gospel is significantly longer than that of Mark.

For centuries, it was argued that the author of Luke was a physician. Scholars pointed to Luke’s interest in, and apparent knowledge of things medical. However, it has long since been observed that Luke has no more knowledge or interest in medicine than any other NT writer. It is clear, however, that Luke does have more interest in social justice. (In Acts we find the idea that members of the church should have all things in common and the Song of Mary states that God “has put down the mighty from their thrones and the rich he has sent empty away.”)

We know that Luke was the author of two books – the Gospel and the Acts of the Apostles – which, though separated by John in our Bibles, originally belonged together. That they have the same author is demonstrated by the fact that both books are addressed to the same person – Theophilus – and that similar themes play out throughout both books. One clear theme is that of journey and mission. The Gospel, concerned as it is with re-telling the life of Jesus, is focussed on Jerusalem and a large part of the book is taken up with Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem and its consequences. In Acts, the focus begins in Jerusalem, the centre of Judaism and the birth place of the church, and from there the story broadens out to include the Mediterranean and Rome, the centre of the Empire.

Luke’s gospel was probably written some time between the years 80 and 90. it cannot have been written before the sixth decade of the first century otherwise it would not have been able to include the details recorded at the end of Acts, nor can it have been written any later than the late second century which is the date of our earliest copy.

By the time that the gospels were written, the emerging church faced a crisis – the Jews to whom Jesus was sent had failed to respond to his message, whereas the Gentiles – who did not belong to the people of Israel – had come to faith. To some extent, all the gospel writers deal with this conundrum in some way, but the issue expressed most clear in Luke. The third gospel demonstrates both that God remains faithful to his promises – God has not abandoned the Jews – and that the inclusion of the Gentiles was always part of God’s plan. This is one reason that the author of Luke begins the story in the centre of Judaism and concludes the account in the centre of the empire.

Even though Luke is keen to demonstrate the movement of the faith throughout the whole world, he is equally keen to emphasise its Jewish roots. According to Luke, the story of Jesus and of the early church is nothing less than a continuation of Judaism and the fulfilment of the OT expectations. Unlike Mathew, who repeatedly alerts us to the fulfilment of the OT, “this was to fulfil what was written in the scriptures”, Luke makes the same point by repetition and allusion. So for example, the Song of Mary is almost identical to the Song of Hannah and Jesus’ life is portrayed in such a way that those who knew would associate Jesus with Moses. (Moses goes into the wilderness. In the desert Moses experiences a call from God. The people to whom Moses is sent do not understand and so on.) In fact it can be argued that Luke sees the account of John the Baptist as the conclusion of the OT era (the last of the prophets), and Jesus as the beginning of the new, God’s anointed one.

Today’s gospel reading is recorded in Matthew, Mark and Luke. Luke’s record is however, quite different from the other two. If you were able to place the three accounts side by side you would see that Luke provides new material that is not found elsewhere. All three report Jesus’ preaching in the synagogue. Only Luke quotes the passages that Jesus reads: “He has sent me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives.” Likewise only Luke has Jesus claim that the scripture is fulfilled in him. The former is consistent with Luke’s social justice emphasis and the latter with his fulfilment theme. Luke alone has Jesus insinuate that the crowd (like the Jews in the times of Elijah and Elisha) are unable to recognise one of their own whereas those from outside (Naaman) do. (The reader is not surprised – this is what is happening in their own time – Gentiles believe, those to whom Jesus was sent do not.)

The response of Jesus’ listeners in Mark and Matthew is relatively mild despite being impressed, they took offense at him because they knew him so well). In Luke the reaction to Jesus’ claim and to his insinuation about the lack of faith in his listeners is so powerful and negative that they try to kill him. (Luke, at the beginning of his account of Jesus’ ministry is already making it clear that it is not that God has abandoned God’s people, but that they have failed to recognise God in Jesus.)

Most of us think that we know what the Bible says so sometimes it comes as a shock to learn that passages and stories that we thought belonged to all the gospels belong only to one or that one writer makes what we consider to be radical changes or additions to a familiar story. It is also exciting to compare the three accounts. Our new knowledge encourages us to ask questions, to consider why Luke added so much to his source material, what he was trying to say about Jesus, who were the people who heard or read the Gospel, how did the early church develop and grow and so on? During the year we will discover the answers to some, if not all of these questions.

Scripture is fascinating, confusing, challenging and comforting, but above all, it is one way that God communicates with us and a way that we in turn communicate God to the world. Don’t we owe it to God and to the world to discover and to understand as much as we possibly can?

An unusual body

January 26, 2013

Epiphany 3

1 Corinthians 12

Marian Free

 

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. Amen.

In December 2009, in Melbourne, conjoined twins – Trishna and Krishna – were separated in a complex process that took a large team of people thirty-two hours to complete.  You will all remember the details. As the twins were joined at the head, it was a particularly difficult operation. Doctors had studied the brains of both children to identify where the blood vessels and brain material needed to be separated. For months they had practiced on models of the twins until they were sure that they knew exactly what they had to do and how to position the girls at exactly the right angle in order to be able to carry out the operation with sufficient skill to cause the least amount of damage to their brains and to give the twins the best chance at survival.

The surgery required a team of sixteen surgeons including plastic surgeons and neuro-surgeons. Also taking part in the marathon event were anaesthetists, cardiologists, doctors nurses and goodness knows who else. Each member of the team would have been trained over a long period of time to ensure that everyone was proficient and knew exactly what their role was and how to carry it out. The absence of any one member of the team could have jeopardized or delayed the whole operation.

Surgery, particularly complex surgery, is not the only example situation in which individuals have to put their egos aside to work together to achieve a common goal. Fire-fighting, rescue work and the distribution of aid all have the best results when no one person is striving to stand out from the crowd and when each person is carrying out their allotted task to the best of their ability in order to contribute to a successful outcome. The reverse is also true, when teams do not work together or when one individual is seeking their own aggrandisement, the effort is at best ineffective and at worst damaging.

Good team work can save lives. Failure to work as a team can cost lives. Working together can achieve a desired result. Working against each other can be totally unproductive.

There are a variety of ways to talk about working together (or not). We talk about team-work, team building or pulling together. If a team is not working, we use language that refers to the weak link in the chain or to people not pulling their weight. In 1 Corinthians Paul uses the image of body to capture the idea of the interdependence of members of the Christian community. In using the term body, Paul is not being original. The term was used by the Greeks as a symbol of social unity. In fact “body” was the most common expression for unity as was the idea that all people are different and that all members of the body should work together for the greater good.

While it is not original, Paul’s use of the body imagery differs from that of his contemporaries in a number of ways. Firstly, Paul identifies God as the source of both difference and of unity. Second, rather than urging some (usually the less gifted) individuals to subordinate themselves for the sake of the body, Paul argues not only that members of the body should work together in such a way that everyone would benefit, but he makes the extraordinary claim that the weaker members are indispensable and deserve greater honour and respect. Further, when Paul suggests that the Corinthians are one body, he doesn’t mean just any body or the sum total of the community. The body that the Corinthians are called to be is Christ’s body.

Transferred to our time and place, the implications of Paul’s discussion on the body are profound and deserve some serious consideration. For a start, it means that on our own, you and I are not Christ’s body. The body of Christ on earth is expressed best when Christians together exemplify Christ. It means too that we are called collectively and not individually to be the presence of Christ in the world. It means that the community that formed in Christ’s name – the church – has to recognise that each member is dependent on all the other members, and how much Christ’s continuing mission relies on the efforts of the community as a whole and not on our individual efforts. Our part in Christ’s body, our contribution to the continuation of Christ’s mission on earth depends not just on what we ourselves do, but on what the community – with our help – does. What is more, the body of Christ is dependent on our recognition of the value of the contribution of every other member  – not just those whose contribution stands out or is more obvious. “We simply cannot afford for any part of the body to consider themselves unnecessary to the whole[1].” Nor can we allow ourselves to believe that our contribution is more significant than that of anyone else – that we alone make the difference.

In some ways the image of the body is comforting. It is reassuring to know that the continuation of Christ’s mission in the world does not stand or fall according to what I do – or for that matter what you do. At the same time the image is challenging. In order for Christ’s body to be a living reality, we all have to learn to work and grow together, to value, support and encourage each other.

In this individualistic, privatized western world, it is easy to think that it is our personal relationship with God that is all important, that our salvation stands or falls on what we do and how we behave. It is easy to convince ourselves that we can be a Christian without coming to church or that developing our personal spirituality is as important, if not more so than participating in the spiritual growth of the body as a whole. However, the opposite is true. Not only do we need the body, but the body needs us. Whether we are a foot or a heart, an arm or a nose, our contribution is essential to the proper functioning of the body. When we are not functioning, when we are absent or when we are suffering, the body as a whole suffers. Equally, whether we are a brain or a toe, a hip or an eye we will be unable to function properly if we are not connected to and working with the remainder of the body.

Our life in Christ is just that – in Christ – and therefore in the body of Christ – the gathered community of believers. One of the challenges for the twenty first century church is to recover a sense of our interdependence, to learn to recognise and value our place in the whole, to celebrate each other no matter how great or small, how visible or invisible their contribution and to understand that without us (or for that matter without any one of us) the gathered community is in some way diminished and impoverished. Unlike a surgical team, or a rescue crew, our commitment to the body doesn’t end when the job is done. Being part of the body is our life, our Christian responsibility and God’s gift to us.

 

Week after week we affirm “We are the body of Christ.” Let us do all that we can to ensure that that is in fact our lived reality.

[1] Gooder, Paula. Everyday God: The Spirit of the Ordinary.Norwich: Canterbury Press, 2012, 113.

Jesus at a wedding

January 19, 2013

Epiphany 2, 2013

Wedding at Cana – John 2:1-11

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who showers us with abundant blessings and reveals himself to us through his Son Jesus. Amen.

 

I don’t need to tell you that I know a great deal about weddings. Not only do I conduct numerous weddings but I had a hand in planning my wedding and have been involved in the planning of my children’s weddings. Even quite simple ceremonies take quite a deal of planning. A bare minimum requires the signing of the Notice of Intent at least one month before the ceremony, arranging a celebrant a venue and two witnesses. Anything more elaborate also involves deciding on the number of guests, sending invitations, choosing music, booking a reception centre, selecting a menu, organizing a cake, making or purchasing a dress, hiring or buying a suit, buying shoes and flowers, planning the seating arrangements, thinking of and inviting someone to be an MC and hopefully planning a honeymoon. For those who want to go to more trouble cars need to be hired, a photographer booked, wedding favours made or purchased, bridesmaid’s dresses made or bought and the list goes on (and on).  No wonder people find it stressful, I’m exhausted just listing what needs to be done!

Weddings in the first century were quite different, but I presume that they also required a great deal of planning. From what we can re-create from the literature available, it appears that in the first century all of the village would have been invited and the festivities would have lasted for seven days. The celebrations would have started, not at 3pm at an appointed time, but whenever the friends of the bridegroom arrived with the bride. One can only imagine the sort of organisation that would go into such an event. Feeding a large crowd over a number of days would involve a considerable amount of preparation – beasts would have to be chosen, slaughtered, prepared, and cooked, bread and sweets would have to be made and enough wine procured. Other arrangements such as dowries would have had to have been settled long beforehand.

It is interesting that the first event in Jesus’ life that is recorded by the author of John’s gospel is that of a wedding not a healing. What is more, the story raises a number of questions – not least of which is why the hosts ran out of wine. Were the groom’s parents really so unprepared as to not have enough to drink, or was it, as some suggest, that Jesus and the disciples did not observe the tradition of bringing a contribution to the festivities? Other questions arise: Whose wedding was it? Why was Mary concerned about the lack of wine if she was not the host? Why does Jesus address his mother in such an abrupt way: “woman”? Scholars have had a field day with the question of Mary’s interference in the festivities. It is this story that has led to the theory (used by Dan Brown) that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene. If this were the case, it would explain Mary’s concern with the wine – she is the host of the celebration. It is her responsibility to have catered adequately for the party, it is her reputation that will be harmed if she proven to be an inadequate host. This is why Mary notices the shortfall and looks to Jesus for a solution.

Commentaries on John’s gospel provide answers to some of these questions, but the real key to the story lies not in the specific details, but in the evangelist’s purpose in recording it. The heart of the account is not Jesus’ relationship with his mother, nor is it the miracle itself, nor even the vast quantity of wine that results. The last line of the story tells us that its primary purpose is the revelation of the person of Jesus – to the disciples who are present and to those who will read the account later.

From start to finish, the author of John’s gospel is intent on making known that Jesus is the one who is to come, the one sent by God to bring salvation to the world and eternal life to those who believe. As we learn in chapter 20, John’s gospel is written: “so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.” So the purpose of the first of Jesus’ miracles recorded by John is to bring people to faith in him.

Unlike the Synoptic Gospels which begin with Jesus’ healing the sick and casting out demons, John begins with a wedding and a miracle of abundance. What is not readily obvious to us will have been clear to Jesus’ disciples and would certainly have been plain to those for whom the Gospel was written. Through the use of symbol and allusion, John portrays Jesus as the one who will bring the redemption promised by God. For example, as today’s reading from Isaiah indicates, marriage is a sign of the restoration of Israel – the people will be the bride and God the groom, their shame will be taken away and they will be able to hold their heads high among the people. A wedding and a feast imply that Jesus is the one who was to come.

Elsewhere, Jesus speaks of the danger of putting new wine into old wine skins. Wine replacing water is suggestive of a new and different era replacing the old. Lastly, the water to which Jesus refers is stored in stone jars, jars which because they were not porous and could not be contaminated, held the water used for the ritual of purification. John’s readers would have understood the illusion – Jesus’ salvific action replaces the need for repeated ritual purification. Through Jesus, the people have been put right with God for all time.

In the written account at least, and possibly in the actual event, all of these images would have spoken to the disciples of the fact that God, through Jesus, was doing something new. Something that has been pointed to by the prophets was now a reality in the life and presence of Jesus. Through allusions to OT expectations John presents Jesus as God’s answer to all that has been promised. He suggests that through Jesus the relationship between the people and God has been healed, the promised banquet has begun, the forsakennness of Israel has been supplanted by marriage and that because of Jesus the need for purification has become redundant.

So you can see, there is so much more to this wedding than a miracle. The wedding allows Jesus glory to be revealed which in turn leads to the disciples’ belief in him. The revelation of Jesus in John’s gospel has one purpose and one alone, that those who see and those who hear come to believe that Jesus is the Son of God.

A miracle-worker does not change the world. Someone who turns water into wine does not bring about the salvation of humankind. The extraordinary thing about Jesus, as John’s gospel will make clear over and over again, is that he and the Father are one and that through him, the world is redeemed and the relationship with God is restored.

Jesus’ baptism

January 13, 2013

Baptism of Jesus – 2013

Luke 3:15-18, 21-22

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who through our baptism anoints us calls us to serve. Amen.

You will have noticed that not only is this morning’s gospel brief, but that only two of the five verses specifically refer to Jesus’ baptism. Further, though this may not have been obvious if you were listening and not reading, the gospel consists of two sets of disconnected verses from Luke, chapter 3. Those who prepared our lectionary have joined a small section of John’s preaching with the actual baptism of Jesus. Though not linked by Luke, together these verses give us some insight into John’s understanding of Jesus.

In this context, John’s preaching focuses on three things: God’s wrath (associated with the final judgement), how to live (to avoid God’s wrath) and John’s predictions about the Christ (who is associated with God’s wrath). In response to the wondering of the crowd, John the Baptist makes it clear that he is not the Christ. He goes on to list a number of points to back up his claim – the one who is coming will be more powerful than he. He, John, is so far removed from the Christ that he would not even be able to perform the lowliest of tasks for him. He is baptizing with water, the Christ will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire. John may be preparing the people for judgement, the Christ will carry out the judgement (the winnowing fork is in his hands). John expects that the ministry of the Christ, will in other words, be far superior to his own.

John’s preaching is addressed to “the crowds” – to those who have come out from Jerusalem to hear him and to be baptised. Interestingly, Jesus is not mentioned as one of their number nor even as someone who comes out to hear John. It is not until Luke has reported John’s imprisonment by Herod that we discover that Jesus was baptised though it is not clear by whom or why. If the gospel’s chronology is correct, John is already in jail when Jesus is baptised. This raises a number of questions. Why record the story at all? Was someone other than baptising and if there was why doesn’t Luke tell us who? Was Jesus baptised by one’s of John’s disciples. We will never know.

It has to be said that Luke’s account of Jesus’ baptism is tantalizingly stark. It provides some detail but gives no explanation or interpretation of the events. What we learn from Luke’s gospel is that Jesus was apparently baptised after everyone else (perhaps not by John whom Herod has locked up), he is praying when the heavens open, the Holy Spirit descends bodily as a dove and a voice from heaven declares Jesus to be God’s beloved Son. So much information is crowded into two sentences (one in the Greek)! Jesus’ reaction to the extraordinary occurrences is not recorded nor is that of the crowds who presumably witnessed something. Such dramatic events are reported in a matter of fact manner, completely lacking in commentary or explanation.

A comparison with Mark’s gospel (Luke’s source) reveals that some features of this account are unique to Luke – in particular the fact that Jesus is praying, that Luke omits to say from where Jesus came and implies that it is not John who performs the baptism of Jesus. Mark’s gospel identifies Jesus’ baptism as the moment at which it becomes clear who Jesus is. Luke does use the baptism as a transition to Jesus’ public ministry but he does not link the two events in Jesus’ life – one does not lead to the other. At this point in Luke’s narrative he has no need to explain Jesus’ call and mission. He has already established Jesus’ identity in his birth narrative. In contrast to Mark, in the first two chapters of Luke’s gospel Jesus has already been announced as “Saviour, Lord and Messiah and as Son”. The presence of the Spirit in his life has been plain since his unique conception. Jesus’ call is not new, as a teenager in the Temple, he seems very aware of who he is and of his relationship with God.

While Luke includes a report of Jesus’ baptism, his purpose is different from that of his source. It seems that in writing about the event, the author of Luke is concerned first and foremost to demonstrate divine approval of Jesus and of his ministry. When this reference to the events surrounding Jesus’ baptism are seen in the context of the rest of Luke’s gospel two other factors become obvious. One is the place of prayer in Luke’s gospel. Jesus prays before all his significant actions (before choosing the disciples for example). A second is this – there are two occasions in Luke’s gospel on which a voice from heaven affirms Jesus and reveals God’s approval of him and of his ministry. Both occasions mark a significant change of direction in Jesus life and ministry. After his Baptism Jesus begins his public ministry and after the second occasion – the Transfiguration – Jesus begins the journey to Jerusalem and to death.

Luke appears to use Jesus’ baptism as both a turning point in Jesus’ life, but also as an opportunity to inform the readers that Jesus is no ordinary person but one approved by, chosen by and set apart by God and that God is affirming his choice and his delight in the chosen one.

Each gospel is written with a particular audience in mind and each gospel tells us a little bit about the author. We honour the text best when we try to understand what is going on behind it. Often that is only our most informed guess, but if we try to get a sense of why the story was written as it was we get a deeper and richer understanding not only of the story, but of its development. A better comprehension of the different ways in which the evangelists understood and reported the accounts of Jesus’ life helps us to understand the differences, to realise that there is more than one way of looking at things and gives us the tools to enter into debate with those who are skeptical or have yet to believe.

The gospel writers did not just blindly write down what they heard from others. They considered the information at hand and reflected on the best way to share that with the world. We can do no better than to follow their example.

 

 

For the commentary on the Gospel I am heavily reliant on Fitzmyer, Joseph. The Gospel According to Luke I-IX. New York: Double Day and Company, 1979, though I take full responsibility for the way in which I have used the material and the conclusion drawn.