God of many names

April 20, 2013

Easter 4 – 2013, Good Shepherd Sunday

John 10:22-30

Marian Free

In the name of God, whose nature cannot be described by human language and whose name is above every other name. Amen.

I wonder how many different expressions do you use to address God or how many names you know for God? Most of us use the word “Father” – partly out of habit because that is what we were taught as children and because it is the form of address used in the Lord’s prayer which we have used for as long as we can remember. While the expression “Father” is not exclusive to the gospel of John, it is this gospel that firmly established “Father” as a name for, and descriptor of, God. In this gospel, Jesus consistently refers to himself as God’s son and to God as Father.

Father is a useful and relational term, however, the biblical language for God is much more complex. In the OT, God is addressed and described in many and varied ways. In Genesis alone, God is acknowledged as creator and Lord. God is called Elohim, El Shaddai and simply El. When God speaks to Moses out of the burning bush and Moses asks whom shall he say sent him, God answers: tell them YHWH (I am who I am) sent you.

In the Psalms we find a rich source of expressions for God. The Psalmist says: God is my fortress and my tower; God is my strong defence, my help and my deliverer. God is named as a judge, a shield and a king and is described as awesome, righteous, gracious and merciful. The Psalmist can call God a rock, a sun and state that God is more majestic than the everlasting mountains.

The prophets likewise draw on a wide range of imagery to name and to describe God. Often they speak in the first person, as if God is actually speaking: “I will bear you up on eagle’s wings”, “I am he who blots out your transgressions”, “as a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you and so on.” God is envisaged as a potter in Jeremiah and Hosea imagines God as a bridegroom – an image that is taken up again in the Book of Revelation.

Sometimes the language used for God reveals the people’s experience of God, sometimes reflects the situation in which the people find themselves and sometimes it is drawn from the environment around them. So for example because God is seen as the protector of Israel, language like tower, refuge and defence are seen as appropriate terms to apply to God. A rock or a mountain, suggest that God is solid and steadfast. An experience of God’s comforting love might lead one to think of God as mother.

One expression for God that is found throughout the Bible is that of shepherd. From Genesis, through the Psalms, the prophets, the gospels and right up to the Book of Revelation, God is described as a shepherd. As a nation of herders, the Israelites would have been all too familiar with the imagery of shepherding. Their well-being and their livelihood would have depended on their flocks being well cared for. They would have known first hand the difference between and good and a bad shepherd. They would have observed the relationships between shepherd and flock and seen the results of good and bad shepherding. Even those people not directly involved in the care of the animals would have noticed that some of the shepherds were more protective of their flock and they would have seen how well those animals responded to being cared for. They would also have seen that carelessness and neglect led to the destruction of the flock at the hands of wild animals and that cruelty led to flocks that were timid and easily startled.

Given their intimate knowledge of animal husbandry, it is not surprising that the image of shepherd was used of God. God embodied everything that was good in a shepherd. God provided for the people, kept them safe from their enemies, knew and responded to their needs and led them where they needed to go. God was their shepherd and they identified themselves as God’s flock (Ps 79:13, 100, 95:7).

It is little wonder then, that Jesus identifies himself as the Good Shepherd. The Jesus of John’s gospel, consistently argues that he and the Father are one. If God is the shepherd of the sheep, Jesus is the shepherd of the sheep. If God has promised to send a “shepherd after his own heart”, Jesus is the shepherd whom God has sent. If God is able to protect the flock from harm, Jesus can guarantee that no one will snatch the sheep out of his hand – not in the present nor for all eternity. Unlike the leaders of Israel, who were as varied in their commitment to the flocks as shepherd with their sheep, Jesus’ commitment is total. He is the Good Shepherd who will lay down his life for the sheep. Those who hear and respond to his voice are those who recognise that they belong to his flock. Those who do not respond demonstrate by their behaviour that they do not belong – they self-select to stand outside and to refuse the gift of life that Jesus the shepherd offers.

Shepherd, king, rock, shield, father, mother – ultimately, all our expressions for God are merely human expressions of what we believe God to be, what we experience God to be or what we hope God to be. Even so, as the variety of biblical names indicates, our language is completely inadequate to capture or to begin to describe everything that God is. God is so much more than mere words can express.

In Jesus we have a glimpse into the nature of God. We discover in him a God who gives himself completely to us and gives himself completely for us. All we have to do is to recognise Jesus as God and respond to his voice – and that, after all, is why we are here.

“What no eye has seen, nor ear heard,

nor the human heart conceived,

what God has prepared for those who love him” (1 Cor 2:9)

Reconciled to God and to one another

April 13, 2013

Easter 3. 2013

John 21:1-19

Marian Free

In the name of God, who in Jesus, redeems us and sets us free from all our sins. Amen.

One of the most extraordinary things associated with the end of apartheid in South Africa was the establishment of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Instead of seeking retribution and/or reparation for the events of the past, the new government committed itself to a process of listening to the stories, the pain and the hurt of the past and trying to bring about healing rather than creating further division. Perhaps the most courageous aspect of this process was the commitment to those who had carried out atrocities that they would not be prosecuted if they came forward and told the truth.

If you have the stomach for a harrowing experience, I suggest that you watch the movie, Red Dust. In it a former South African police officer, Dirk Hendriks, wants to confess to the torture and beating of Alex Mpondo – a member of Parliament. Alex is anxious about testifying. It means reliving the horror and dealing with the death of his friend Steve. When the trial starts, Hendriks accuses him of denouncing Steve, which causes his own community to abandon him. Alex is sure he did not betray his friend, but his memory is not sufficiently clear nor can he produce evidence to prove his version of events

Hendrik’s former boss, Piet Muller, wants to ensure that only a sanitised account is made known so that he is not implicated in the events. He has a vested interest in discrediting Alex.

So we watch as Alex finds the courage to testify and to re-live the experience of his own torture and the agony of having to watch his friend’s horrendous suffering and death. We are indignant when we discover that Alex’s version of events cannot be supported by other evidence and when his fellow ANC members turn against him. We are relieved when his account is proven to be true. We witness the grief and relief of Steve’s mother as her son’s remains are recovered and she acknowledges that he is indeed dead.

The story doesn’t end there. When Muller realises that his part in Alex’s torture and Steve’s death has been exposed, he makes the decision to protect himself by confessing. In order for this to work, Alex has to allow the process to proceed. Alex is furious. He can see that Muller is only protecting himself. He cannot bear the thought that this man will walk free despite the atrocities he has committed. Gradually, Alex works through his anger, his need for retribution and reparation and he comes to the decision that he must let go of the past no matter how unpalatable that decision may be. He comes to the understanding that withholding his cooperation will solve nothing so he allows the process to continue.

Of course, I don’t know how well the process has worked overall, but from a Christian perspective it seems to me that it is a more positive (if extraordinarily painful) way to deal with conflict resolution especially on a personal, neighbourhood or national level. If the perpetrators of violent acts can acknowledge what they have done and if the victims can find the strength to surrender their need to have their suffering validated by the punishment of the other it just might be possible to find a way to escape the cycle of retribution and violence that keeps some conflicts going.

Our sense of justice is finely honed, but storing up bitterness, anger and hatred does no one any good. Vengeance does not lead to reconciliation or to the restoration of relationships. That is not to say that the perpetrators of abuse should not be held accountable or that crimes and misdeeds should simply be overlooked. Unacceptable behaviour remains unacceptable and must be named as such and it must not be allowed to continue. On the other hand, no matter how insincere a person’s “confession” might be, any admission of wrong doing means that their behaviour is exposed and they can no longer pretend to be what they are not. The past is laid open for others to judge.

The scale is different, but accountability and restoration feature in today’s gospel.

Despite having said that he will follow Jesus to death, Peter has denied Jesus not once but three times. Confronted with Jesus’ arrest, Peter has revealed that he was not as courageous as he had thought he would be. Even though he followed Jesus’ progress through the court system, Peter did not want to be identified as one of Jesus’ followers. Having promised complete and total loyalty, he lacked the courage to stand up and be counted. He watched Jesus being unjustly condemned but did nothing to intervene

You would think, wouldn’t you, that such behaviour would be hard to forgive. You would understand if Jesus, having undergone the excruciating agony of crucifixion, might want to extract some sort of reparation from those who abandoned him. He would be justified in thinking that Peter should accept the consequences of his denial. In fact, it would not be surprising to us if Jesus had given Peter the cold shoulder and frozen him out of any further involvement in the movement.

Jesus however, acts in a way that is contrary to all our expectations. He does not confront Peter (or any of the other disciples for that matter) and accuse him (them) of cowardice, desertion and betrayal. He doesn’t demand recompense from Peter for his treachery, his abandoning him in his hour of need. He doesn’t make Peter prove his loyalty and demonstrate his commitment before they can be friends again. Instead he does what by human standards is almost unthinkable. Not only does he overlook what Peter has done, but he gives to Peter the preeminent role in the community. “Feed my lambs, shepherd my sheep.” Peter is commissioned to take over where Jesus left off. Peter, the deserter is to become Peter the leader

That does not mean that Peter is not held accountable for what he has done. His crime may not be named, but Jesus’ threefold request and Peter’s obvious discomfort are evidence that Peter is being asked to accept responsibility for his weakness and for the fact that he turned his back on his leader and his friend. Without having to make recompense, without being isolated, excluded and punished, Peter is restored to his place in the community, his place in Jesus’ affection and given new responsibility. History shows that Jesus’ confidence is not misplaced.

And this, brothers and sisters is the extraordinary thing about the God in whom we believe. We abandon and betray God, but God does not abandon us. We nail God to a cross and still God continues to trust in us. It is this, I hope – God’s love and trust in us, not the threat of punishment or the fear of the fires of hell – that makes us respond, that encourages us to behave in ways that deserve such confidence. Even at our worst, God sees the good in us. Let us do all that we can to live up to God’s faith in us.

Utter dependence on God

April 6, 2013

Easter 2. 2013

John 20:19-31

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to die in order that we might truly live. Amen.

When we start out in life we are completely dependent on others for every aspect of our lives and, if we are lucky, we learn to trust  that our needs will be met. As we grow, we need to be taught about the world, learn what we can and can’t do, how to live in relationship with those around us and how to keep ourselves safe from danger. We learn to trust in and depend on the judgement of those older and wiser than ourselves. At times in our lives, especially in our teens, we test what we’ve been taught and we explore the boundaries that have been set to see how real they are and to determine whether danger really lurks on the other side. As a result of this process we form our own ideas and come to our own decisions as to how to live our lives. Over time, some of the rules and boundaries that were indispensable will be left behind. We no longer need to hold a parent’s hand to cross the road, we can go swimming without an adult watching and so on. As we grow, new skills and boundaries are learned. We learn how to drive, so we learn the road rules. We are old enough to drink and others hope that we will use that privilege responsibly.

At different times of our lives we unlearn some things – how to be dependent in particular – and we learn new things – how to be married, how to parent, how to live with illness or pain and how to age. Some of the changes we face will be embraced and the challenges taken on board, others may be resisted or resented. There will be individuals who adopt a positive attitude to change no matter what. When confronted with difficulties, they will grow and become better for it. However, others will balk at any difference or difficulty in their lives. Their growth will be stunted and they may become bitter and angry, unable to move on.

Our religious journeys are similar to our life’s journey. If we are open to the presence of God, we will grow through dependence to the rule bound childhood of faith into a liberating life-giving adulthood. The difference between the two is that ultimately our faith journey takes us through the independence of adulthood into a second infancy – that of complete dependence on and trust in God.

Just as in life, so in faith, some people have the confidence and courage to grow, to out-grow unnecessary regulations and to leave behind painful and negative pasts. However, unfortunately for some, the lessons taught and the emotional threats used to enforce the rules make it difficult, if not impossible, for them to make their own minds up about right and wrong, healthy growth and unhealthy development. For such people, the consequences of questioning the teaching and boundaries of their childhood faith can be constant anxiety and self-doubt, fear of expulsion from the group and the terror of hellfire. There are others who do not grow in faith because they have come to like the certainty of their set beliefs and behaviours. They are comfortable in their beliefs and do not want them challenged or disturbed. For this group, any admission of doubt would be tantamount to a confession that they had lost their faith. They would feel rudderless and lost and so hold tight to what they have, unable to move forward.

Those unable or unwilling to grow become stuck in the rule-bound faith of their childhood and often justify their position by being critical and judgemental towards those who have taken a different road. They are governed by their own need for certainty and assurance and threatened by any suggestion that there is another way to be. Rules help them to feel safe. They cannot imagine a situation in which they might let go of the rules and allow God to direct their lives. Ultimately they are terrified of ceding control and opening themselves to the wisdom and love of God.

On the other hand, those who have the courage to step out in faith and to follow the path to the end are able to unlearn everything that they had learned. They have no fear of hell or judgement because they have learnt to trust in God’s unconditional love and forgiveness. They do not need to compare themselves with others because knowing themselves loved they can extend that love to those around them.

Paradoxically, our journey of faith is not a journey into certainty, but into uncertainty for in the final analysis God represents all that is unknown. Growing in faith is learning that there is only one rule and that it is not a rule but an attitude – loving and allowing ourselves to be loved. It is regaining the sense of wonder and even bewilderment about the nature of God and the nature of the universe. It is dying to our need for the rational and intelligible and rising with Christ to the impossible and unbelievable.

This is Thomas’ journey. He begins by wanting proof. What he has been told by his friends will not suffice, he wants to see and to touch. He cannot suspend his desire for the rational and the reasonable. What he knows, what he has seen, is that Jesus has died. Without clear proof to the contrary he will not be able to change this world view. When he does see Jesus, all that changes, his demand for certainty is exposed as and he is forced to concede that some things are beyond rational explanation. Thomas, having come face-to-face with the risen Christ, goes further than any other disciple by falling to his knees and identifying Jesus as both Lord and God. In that act, he lets go of certainty and rationality and gives himself over completely to God.

Certainty, compliance to a particular set of regulations, is a form of heresy. It claims that we know all there is to be known about God, it suggests that we have all the answers that we will ever need and ultimately implies that we have no need for God at all. Letting go can be a terrifying experience because we can never be sure what is on the other side. However, unless we have the courage to let go, to stop being in control, we will never know what it is to die with Christ and never experience the power of the resurrection in our lives.

BUT ….

March 30, 2013

 

Easter Day 2013

Luke 24:1-12

Marian Free

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

I don’t know if it still happens, but I know that people in workplaces were taught that when they were giving feedback to staff it was important to begin with an affirmation. That sounds all very well – emphasising the positive rather than the negative. However, the whole point of feedback is to let someone know how well they have been doing and if they haven’t been doing so well in their work at some point in the process this has to be pointed out to them. What happened was that those being reviewed came to expect the “but”. “Your telephone manner is very good but …”, “You have good attention to detaiL but ….. and so on.

The problem with “but” is that it has the effect of negating everything that has come before it. All the positive sentiments are seen in a different light when followed by “but”. A common response to positive feedback was “Yes, but?” as the expectation was that any affirmation would be followed by a criticism.

In Greek it is often the small words that you have to look out for. “Νυνι δε”, “μη γενοιτω”, “μεν”, “but now”, “no indeed”, “rather”. These words often carry a lot of weight which may or may not be obvious in translation. So it is in the 24th chapter of Luke’s gospel. Chapter 23 concludes the traumatic events of the Friday. The women observe where Jesus has been laid, go home to prepare the spices and to rest according to the law, because it is the Sabbath. To all intents and purposes that is the end of the story. Jesus, whom many had followed and supported all the way from Galilee to Jerusalem was dead as were all the hopes and dreams that his teaching and presence had fostered. All that remained was to see that his body was treated respectfully according to the tradition of the Jews and that part of the disciples’ lives would be over.

BUT – “on the first of the sabbath at deep dawn”, “BUT when they went in”, “BUT the men said to them”, ‘BUT these words seemed to them an idle tale”, “BUT Peter got up and ran to the tomb.” At least six times in twelve verses “but” contradicts what has come before – Jesus is laid in the tomb .. but. The women find the stone rolled away .. but. The women are terrified, but the angels said to them .. but he has risen. .. The women tell the apostles but …. The eleven do not believe the women, but still Peter got up and ran to the tomb. Everything that has happened has been negated, nothing is as was expected – a tomb is opened, a body has disappeared, terrified women are reminded of Jesus’ teaching and told he has risen, even so, no one believes the women and yet Peter goes to the tomb.

On the Friday the story had come to an end. Their leader dead, the disciples were frightened and confused. They had no hope or expectation for the future. Then all that changed and a new story began. The “BUT” at the beginning of  chapter 24 stands in defiance of all that has previously happened, it turns the impossible into the possible. In the midst of terror and confusion there is hope. Jesus’ body is not in the tomb, heavenly messengers speak to the women and Peter, against all his cultural conditioning, cannot help but go to see if what the women said was true.

Despair is turned into expectation, resignation to hope. Perhaps the end of the story will have to be re-written. In fact, the end of the story is nothing more than the beginning of a new story.

Jesus’ resurrection contradicts all that we know about life and death. It explodes the natural order of things, expands our horizons and opens our eyes to a different way of being. The resurrection demonstrates that evil and violence do not have the last word – goodness can and does triumph even though it may appear to have been defeated. It exposes our timidity, our cowardice and fear and replaces them with boldness, courage and confidence. The resurrection stands in defiance of all that is wrong in this world, by showing us what can go right. It thumbs the nose at the brutality, hatred and greed which tear people apart and points to a different way of being. We do not have to resign ourselves to terror, to poverty, to war and oppression. We can hope for and expect compassion, peace, equality and encouragement. We need no longer be held captive by death but can embrace life for ourselves and struggle to bring life to others.

The story doesn’t end with the tomb. Jesus is risen and nothing will ever be the same. Jesus is risen and our lives are charged with the power of the resurrection. Nothing is impossible. We have no more excuses. All our “maybe’s” are turned to “yes”, all our “buts” are exposed as procrastination – a failure to trust in Jesus’ presence and strength with us and in us.

Our story begins with the resurrection and our sharing with Jesus in the resurrection life. It is a story full of contradictions. A story in which death is overcome. A story that has no end but is full of new beginnings as again and again we die with Christ only to discover that it is in dying to the things of this world that we become more truly alive.

Jesus died – BUT he rose from the dead. That is our story – a story of new beginnings, fresh starts, opportunities to make good. Our story is the story of new life. So no more “buts” – let us embrace the life that God has given us and the new life that Jesus has won for us, that through us God may bring life to the world.

There is no river

March 28, 2013

Good Friday

 

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

(Eli, Eli, by Judith Wright,

http://reflectionsonlandusetranslationsmorebycew.com/Judith_Wright/Wright_Poems.html)

And all the while he knew there was no river.

One of the things people most struggle with in regard to faith is the fact that God does not intervene. “Why does God let that happen?” people ask in the face of untimely death, natural disaster, war, disease or terror. Where is God when the drunken driver swerves on to the footpath, when the megalomaniac leader tortures and kills any opposition, or when unprincipled greed leads to the sale of addictive drugs and to the violence and murder of drug wars?

Where is God, silent and inactive while the world tears itself apart? Where is God?

The silent, suffering God is nailed to the cross, enduring the agony of watching those whom He created with such confidence destroying themselves and each other.

On the sixth day, God created humankind in God’s own image. God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good. If the world is less than perfect, it is by and large because we have made it so. Humanity, the “very good” of God’s creation, has chosen a path other than that which was intended by the creator. Given the choice, humankind chose competition with rather than cooperation with God – with disastrous results.

And though God in Christ holds out love and faith, humanity will not take it God’s hand. We would rather be in control of our own destiny and despite the evidence that we are making a very poor job of it, we continue to hold ourselves apart, to believe that the solution lies in our own hands. We continue to turn our back on God, and on all that is good, and in so doing we reduce God’s power to intervene to nothing.

There is no river but the morass we create for ourselves. There is no river but that of our own making. There is no river, but our own self-absorption, our need for power and control and our desire to make decisions for ourselves.  These are the nails that hold Christ to the cross. These are the causes of God’s apparent inaction. These are the wounds which we continue to inflict and which God in Christ continues to bear.

There is no need to drown in the river. If only we would let go of our pride and take the hand that is offered, the love that is proffered and the faith that is ours to claim we would learn that there is no river except that which we ourselves have created.

There is no river, but Christ will hold our pain and sorrow on the cross until at last we let go of ourselves and turn to him.

 

 

Intercessions

 

Suffering God,

open our eyes to the suffering in the world

and to the part we play in causing harm to others.

Give to us the gift of discernment

so that we might be wise in our decision-making

and alert to the broader consequences of our actions.

God who allows us to make our own mistakes.

Guide us into the way of your wisdom.

Holy God,

empower your church to proclaim your gospel and

to confront evil and injustice.

Help her to resist the temptation to conform and

to name greed and selfishness

especially when it destroys the lives of others.

Be especially with your church in the Middle East

and Palestine, that it might give wise counsel on

ways to bring about peace.

God who allows us to make our own mistakes.

Guide us into the way of your wisdom.

God of love,

be with those whose wounds are self-inflicted

because they cannot or will not accept your love

or the love and care of those around them.

Show us how to share your love with those whom we do not understand

and those whom we find to be unloveable.

God who allows us to make our own mistakes.

Guide us into the way of your wisdom.

Wounded God,

heal the bodies, minds and souls of all who turn to you for help and give them confidence and peace.

Endow with compassion and resilience those

whose task it is to heal broken bodies and minds

and be especially with those who work at the cutting edge of accident or disaster.

God who allows us to make our own mistakes.

Guide us into the way of your wisdom.

Dying Christ,

as you gave yourself completely to God,

so may we give ourselves completely to you

that in this life we may know peace and wholeness

and in the life to come may share your kingdom with all who have gone before us.

God who allows us to make our own mistakes.

Guide us into the way of your wisdom.

March 23, 2013

Palm Sunday 2013

The Passion According to Luke

Marian Free

Palm Sunday, Children's Easter Service 2013

Palm Sunday, Children’s Easter Service 2013

 

In the name of God who asks us to be true to ourselves and faithful to God. Amen.

Imagine Australia, defeated and occupied by an oppressive and exploitative foreign power. A puppet Government has been installed under the supervision of a foreign governor. Former political and business leaders have of course maintained their wealth and status by collaborating with the foreign overlords and the onetime patriotic media has become their mouthpiece. The old Australian flag has been suppressed and replaced and the old national anthem banned. Resistance has been largely crushed apart from a few underground terrorist groups and some freedom fighters in isolated rural areas. The churches have become quiescent and fallen into line, in exchange for some measure of freedom to engage in purely spiritual activities. Occasionally a firebrand would-be nationalist leader appears and gathers some support but the police and army easily put such movements down and their followers are rounded up and disappear.

The old Australia Day weekend is coming up. It is now of course carefully orchestrated by the new regime as a means of both gaining support and diffusing nostalgia for the past and everybody hopes there will be no terrorist incidents to destabilize the situation. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, one of these popular leaders appears, riding in an old government limo, flying the old flag and accompanied by a few rag-tag supporters. Suddenly the crowds begin to swell on the foot paths and as more and more flags begin to appear, the crowds burst spontaneously into the old national anthem. The security troops are caught totally unprepared and before they can intervene, the car swings into the square and draws up before City Hall and the young leader gets out and marches inside…he must be stopped.[1]

It’s hard to imagine what it was like to be in Palestine in the first century. We have to remember that since the exile Israel had never recovered its former glory. The nation has, with a brief respite in the time of the Maccabees, been under foreign control and the current situation has seen the leaders of the nation and of the church sell out to Rome. High priests are political appointments – no longer members of the ancient tribe of Levi. Herod is a puppet King and Pilate has been sent to this outpost of the Empire to keep the peace. Jerusalem is ripe for rebellion, the countryside is filled with people who, with their followers, incite rebellion and who are claimed to be the Messiah. Everyone, it seems, is looking for a Saviour who will free them from the yoke of oppression.

Into this mix rides Jesus, a man who has made a reputation for himself as a healer and teacher, who is reputed to have drawn large crowds to him and whom some believe to be the awaited Redeemer. He has unsettled the political and religious leaders to the extent that, from the time he enters the city, he is in their sights and they are looking for a way to kill him (19:47).

The problem, for the people and for the leaders of the people, is that contrary to their hopes or, the case of the leaders – their fears – Jesus is not the person they expected. The Israelites are looking for someone who will free them from the yoke of the Romans, someone who, like his ancestor David will lead them in battle, someone who will restore Israel to nation it once was. What they discover is that Jesus is not a fighter. For all that his entry into Jerusalem is staged to look like a fulfillment of the words of Zechariah, Jesus is a disappointment. He does not intend to raise an army and he is more critical of the leaders of his own people than he is of Rome. His mission is not so much to restore independence to Israel, but to restore the nation’s relationship with God.

A number of scholars argue that rather than supporting an uprising, Jesus actually cautions against it. When Jesus “predicts” the destruction of Jerusalem, it is because he can see the likely outcome of a revolution. Rising up against the Romans will, he believes, lead to defeat. Worse, a rebellion will lead to the destruction of all that the Jews hold precious – the Temple, the centre of their faith, the place in which their festivals are marked and celebrated, the site where all their rituals are carried out will be destroyed. If they challenge Rome, all that will be gone – never to be replaced.

Rome may be a problem, but the greater problem is the hypocrisy of the religious leaders who have made compromises of faith to keep the peace. It is this that Jesus confronts and condemns.

So Jesus enters Jerusalem, but from the start, his purpose is misinterpreted and misunderstood. The religious leaders fear that he will incite the crowds to riot which will mean that their freedoms will be curtailed. They are also frightened that his influence on the crowds will affect their influence in religious matters. The governing powers are also anxious. These people (the Jews) are notoriously difficult to contain, Jerusalem is at its most populous and this is the festival most associated with national identity. If the people are allowed to get out of control there is not telling what will happen. The role of the occupying forces is to maintain the peace at any cost.

From the moment he enters the city, Jesus’ life is at risk.

And so it plays out. Judas, for whatever reason, sides with Jesus’ opponents. Jesus (who does not intend to lead the resistance) goes quietly. What is more, given the opportunity to defend himself, Jesus remains mute, thus allowing himself to be subject to one of the most horrifying forms of punishment and death.

Through it all though, Jesus’ faith remains steadfast. In the face of corruption and compromise Jesus maintains his integrity and his independence. Despite the adulation of the crowd, he refuses to be seduced into changing his purpose. Given the opportunity to make an easy exit, Jesus refuses to sell out. Whatever the consequences for himself, he will not be turned from his certainty that the only way forward is for the nation and for himself to put themselves completely in the hands of God.

And so it is that he will not turn from his call, he will maintain his commitment to his cause. Nothing will persuade him from his course which is to reestablish Israel’s relation with God. For he knows that nothing less than complete trust in and dependence on God will do. It may not keep him safe from harm, but it will and does lead to a life such that cannot be known by any other means.


[1] From a sermon preached by The Rev’d Alan Dale at St Thomas’s Toowong on Palm Sunday 2007.

Body beautiful

March 16, 2013

Lent 5

John 12:1-10

Marian Free

In the name of God who formed us and called us God’s own. Amen.

There is a beautiful Japanese movie called “Departures”. It tells the tale of a cellist whose orchestra disbands and of his subsequent struggle to find work. Daigo has no qualifications or talents apart from his music and he becomes increasingly desperate to earn an income. Eventually he returns to his hometown and answers a job advertisement for a company called “Departures”. He is shocked and dismayed to discover that the company is not a travel agency as he had expected, but the Japanese equivalent of a funeral company. In Japan, a Nokanashi or undertaker is the most despised of professions. Those who practice the art of preparing people for cremation are shunned by society and excluded from all social activities. Daigo has no choice, so he takes the job but tells no one – not even his wife.

His first days on the job are shocking. The company are called to a home in which the occupant has been dead for sometime and the sight and the smells are more than Daigo can bear. He is called out at all hours which makes his secret hard to keep. Over time however, he begins to appreciate the privilege and responsibility of preparing the bodies for cremation and caring for the families of the deceased. With the family in the room, the Nokanashi gently wash and dress the dead and lay them out in a bed with beautiful white linen before placing them in a coffin and taking them away. (Like many aspects of Japanese life – tea making, flower arranging – preparing a body after death is highly ritualised and full of grace. It is beautiful to watch.)

While Daigo is learning to love his work, his wife becomes increasingly suspicious of his activity. Finally he has to tell her about the job and to confront her anger and dismay for by association she shares the taint that the job brings with it. However, when Daigo’s estranged Father dies, Mika accompanies Daigo as he attends to his Father’s body. When she sees for herself the care and respect that is given to the dead, and the love and compassion that is shown to the family and understands that despite societal attitudes the job is not something that contaminates the encoffenier, she too appreciates how important the job is. Instead of despising her husband’s decision and feeling anxious for herself and their child, she embraces and supports his choice.

Departures is a lovely, gentle and respectful movie, which has the effect of de-mystifying death and giving us a different appreciation of the human body.

Different cultures have different attitudes to death. People of the Muslim faith believe that a person should be buried as soon after death as possible. The body is wrapped in cloth rather than placed in a coffin and it is laid in the ground such that it is facing Mecca. In Ireland and perhaps other parts of Great Britain a body may be kept in an open coffin in the family home for long enough for family and friends to come and pay their respects. Some ancient cultures had elaborate processes of mummification and the wealthy could build expensive tombs like the pyramids which could be filled with food and possessions to accompany them on their journey to the next life. I could go on, the Indians (or some of them) have the tradition of the funeral pyre and many Chinese burn money for the deceased to spend in the next life.

In Jesus’ time it appears that the dead were anointed with spices before being wrapped in cloth and entombed. The women among Jesus’ friends discovered that the tomb was empty because they had been going to anoint Jesus’ body which, when taken from the cross, had been hurriedly dealt with because of the approach of the Sabbath. According to John, Nicodemus provided about 100 lbs of spices for that task. In today’s gospel however, Jesus is not yet dead so the anointing tells us something different.

There are four different accounts of the woman who anoints Jesus. John’s account has a number of unique features – the timing is very specific, the characters in the story – Martha, Mary, Lazarus and Judas are all named and the woman (Mary) wipes Jesus’ feet with her hair. Jesus is with friends which makes Mary’s action less shocking and inappropriate. While the timing in John’s gospel is precise – six days before Passover – other aspects of time are confused in this period of Jesus’ life. For example, John alludes to this event before he reports the raising of Lazarus and in this passage we read: “Leave her alone, she kept it for the day of my burial.” As Jesus is not yet dead, that he should be anointed for burial is confusing. Alternately, if Mary was going to keep the ointment for Jesus’ death, why is she using it now?

These questions cannot be resolved but the stories tell us about a respect and care for the body which Western Christianity (based, in part, on a misinterpretation of Paul’s use of the word “flesh”) seems to have lost. Many of us have, deep in our psyche, a belief that our physical bodies are something of a hindrance, that they have uncontrollable urges which are shameful and have to be subdued and tamed. Not quite so extreme is our concern with normal bodily functions. We deodorise our sweat, listerine our breath, shave off hair that grows where we do not want it. Our hatred of (or ambivalence towards) the body is demonstrated today by extreme dieting or an obsession with body building or sculpting. Bodies are so dangerous or so unpleasant that many people in our culture have a difficulty with touch.

The reverence, extravagance and intimacy with which Mary handles Jesus’ body and Jesus’ willing acceptance of her ministrations tell a different story. Neither of them are embarrassed or ashamed of their bodies, they have no fear of what another might see or feel, no self-consciousness about touch. Their physical presence is a very real part of who they are. Jesus’ feet may have been rough and calloused from all the walking, Mary’s hair may not have been recently washed. Neither will have spent time with the beauty therapist to ensure that they looked and smelt their best for this moment. They were two friends who accepted each other and each other’s bodies just as they were.

Whatever this account tells us about the foreboding of Jesus’ death, the avarice in Judas’ nature or the careless abandon of Mary’s love, it is also a telling insight into the value of our physical selves. God gave us physical bodies to house our emotion, our intellect and even our souls and God took on that human body for himself when he entered our existence. Our bodies may not be all that we wish and they may express needs that we are not always happy to admit or indulge but in the end they are God’s creation and the body God chose to inhabit. They are not to be despised and subdued but celebrated and enjoyed. They are not to be bullied and re-shaped, but treasured and cared for. They are not a burden or embarrassment, but a gift from God our creator who thought that they were a suitable vessel for God’s very self. Our bodies are a precious gift. There is no need to deny them affection and touch, reverence and respect. If the human body was good enough for God, surely it is good enough for us.

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.