What do you need to give up?

October 13, 2012

Pentecost 20

Mark 10:17-31

Marian Free

 In the name of God who gives us all that we need. Amen.

Years ago I bought a book titled Poor in Spirit. It is filled with stories written by people living and working among the poor – both in the United States and in the Third World. The stories are varied – one tells how powerful it is to hear the mullah call the faithful to prayer before dawn and to greet and be greeted by everyone saying “God be with you.”  Another writes of the presence of God in the barrenness of the desert. Yet another tells of a baptism in the cow shed to demonstrate to others that one can be a Christian and not abandon one’s culture.

Today I’d like to share the story called “My Mother’s Blessing”. It tells the story of a young African who is brought up by his mother after the death of his Father. Mother and son become very close – she buys and sells fish and he prepares their dinner while he waits for her to come home at night. There are other children – daughters who have left home – but in this culture it is the son who is expected to care for the mother as she ages. It is difficult therefore for the son to confide to his mother that he has felt a call to become a member of a religious community and hard for his mother to accept his sense of vocation. She tries to dissuade him from this course of action but eventually resigns herself to the situation and does not mention it again.

The day comes for the son to leave home. His mother is old and frail; she knows that they may never see each other again. “Come,” she says, “Let us make our last offering to God.” She suggests that they say The Lord’s Prayer, the Apostle’s Creed and ten Hail Marys. Then, in a strong and confident voice she blesses her son: “All belongs to God and returns to God. Who am I to oppose your calling? Go! The greatest riches are not on earth. And thanks be to God for having chosen you.”[1]

Another title for the book could have been: “The greatest riches are not on earth.” A common theme of the stories is a deep trust in and a dependence on God that is not determined by the storyteller’s physical, material or emotional situation.

In today’s gospel we have three stories that are ostensibly about wealth – the rich man, the eye of the needle and the benefits that result from giving up everything to follow Jesus. It is easy to draw the conclusion from these that Jesus is demanding those who follow him to give up all their possessions and abandon everything to follow him. This section of the gospel can have a way of making us feel uncomfortable – none of us has taken the radical step of abandoning everything in order to be a disciple of Jesus.

I can’t speak for you, but I know that compared to those who live on one dollar a day I know that I am among the rich. Jesus’ encounter with the rich man leaves me wondering whether I too should sell all that I have and give it to the poor. The saying about the camel and the needle forces me to ask: how rich do I have to be to be unable to fit through the eye of a needle. Peter’s question brings me back to the rich man – how much does Jesus expect me to give up in order to be a disciple?

The gospels have a great deal to say about how we should use our resources. Jesus’ example and teaching urge us to care for the poor and the outcast. The beatitudes make it clear that the values of the Kingdom are not the values of the world: “blessed are the poor” we are told. There have been thousands if not thousands of thousands of Christians who have abandoned comfort and wealth to serve Jesus or to serve others. That said, it is important that we understand today’s gospel in its context. Is Jesus saying that the only way to follow him is to abandon everything?

I have found a small commentary by Paul Achtemeier[2] helpful. The wider context  of the gospel makes it clear that it is our attitude to our relative wealth, rather than wealth itself that is a problem.

Over the course of the last few weeks this has been a constant theme. We have been reminded not to compete but to be as a child, we have been exhorted not to hurt one of these little ones and told that unless we welcome the Kingdom as a child we will not enter it. Throughout this section of the gospel, Jesus has been trying to help his disciples to understand that the Kingdom is a gift, a gift to those who do not and cannot deserve it. Dependence on God and on God’s goodness is the primary criterion for entering the Kingdom of God.

It is within this context that we have to understand today’s gospel which, as I have said, consists of three distinct parts. First of all, the rich man comes to Jesus with a problem. He already keeps the commandments but he knows that something is missing – he knows that simply following the rules is not enough. Jesus’ response is radical and disturbing. He instructs the man to sell everything and to follow him. The man is a good person but he his wealth is more important to him than his relationship with God. He will have to give away his self-reliance if he is to achieve the relationship with God that he seeks. For the time being at least, this is more than the rich man is prepared to do.

Jesus’ conversation with the rich man does not establish a criterion for all people for all time – that would be to introduce a new rule, a goal to be reached. It would have the opposite effect and make us dependent on ourselves not God. Jesus’ conversation with the rich man establshes a general principle – nothing (wealth, achievement) should come between ourselves and God. Our confidence and hope should be in God alone.

Jesus continues this reflection – inheritance of the kingdom is not something that relies on any kind of achievement including wealth. Just as we cannot earn our way into heaven so we cannot buy our way into heaven. Inheritance of the kingdom, entry into eternal life is God’s gift to us and unless we can accept it as a gift, we like the rich man exclude ourselves from its benefits. The disciple’s question, “Then who can be saved?”, demonstrates just how difficult it is for human beings to give up their striving and rely on God. We find it so hard to accept that attaining the kingdom does not depend on our own efforts but on the free gift of God. Like the rich man we want to know what we can do, what rules we should obey in order to be saved. Like the disciples, we want to achieve it on our own merits, we like measurable goals, benchmarks that can be reached. Trusting in God’s love for us, does not provide enough certainty. We like to think that there is a certain standard against which we can measure ourselves. Giving up our need for certainty, trusting in God is both the hardest and easiest aspect of our faith.

Yet as Jesus goes on to say, if we can let go of our need for certainty and security the reward will be a hundred times more than anything we can imagine in this life or in the life to come.

What do you rely on more than God and how hard would it be to give it up?


[1] Lepetit, Charles. Poor in Spirit: Modern Parables of the Reign of God. Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1989, 61.

[2] Achtemeier, Paul. Invitation to Mark: A Commentary on the Gospel of Mark with Complete Text from the Jerusalem Bible. New York: Image Books, 1978.

Becoming as a child

October 6, 2012

Pentecost 19

Mark 10.13-16  St Francis’ Day

Marian Free

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

What is it about children? Mark has used a child as an illustration three times now. A child is used to confront the disciples’ ideas of grandeur. The disciples are urged not to do anything that would hurt the faith of “these little ones” and today’s gospel suggests that unless the disciples welcome the kingdom of God as a little child, they will not enter it. It seems that Jesus is using the example of a child to confront the arrogance of the disciples, to emphasise their responsibility towards the vulnerable and to teach them how to accept God’s gifts to them.

From a twentieth century standpoint the obvious conclusion from today’s gospel is that Jesus is encouraging us to re-capture the wide-eyed innocence of our childhoods, to be open to the mystery and wonder of the kingdom rather than approaching it with jaded and cautious minds. There may be some element of this in what Jesus is saying, but given the unwarranted self-assurance of the disciples, their competition with each other and their desire to exclude others from their number, it is more likely that Jesus is referring to the lack of social status and the dependence of children.

According to the rabbinic tradition children were a waste of time – like drinking too much wine or associating with the ignorant. One saying reads: “Morning sleep and midday wine and children’s talk and sitting in the meeting houses of the people of the land put a person out of the world (M Abot 3:11). Children were not only a waste of time, but they were owed nothing. A child had no claim on anyone and could have no expectation that they deserved anything from anyone – including their parents. If they were treated well it was due to the love and generosity of their parents, but no expectations or obligations were placed on parents.  Children were completely dependent on the adults in their lives and good treatment was a matter of luck rather than a right. As a consequence, anything good that a child experienced or was given was received as a gift which they had done nothing to warrant.

Even in today’s world in which children are generally valued and in which their rights are enshrined in law, a child is still dependent on the adults in their lives for the quality of their care, for affection, for food, clothing and shelter, for education and medical care. Most of us spend our lives trying to escape this sort of dependence on others and few would make dependence rather than independence a life’s goal.

Yet it is precisely this that Jesus is recommending to his self-absorbed disciples. He is reminding them that they should understand that entry into the kingdom is not a right or something that they should take for granted. Entry into the kingdom of God is not earned by proving that they are better than one another. It is not the role of the disciples of Jesus to determine who is in and who is out. Instead, they need to adopt the position of children to their parents and understand that they completely dependent on God’s love and mercy and that everything that they receive is a gift that is unrelated to anything that they do or do not do.

For many, including Jesus’ disciples, the gift of God’s undeserved grace is almost impossible to accept. It is easier to think that there must be some sort of entrance criteria for membership in the kingdom, that only those who behave in a certain way or achieve a certain standard can earn the right to enter into the Kingdom of God. It is difficult to accept that those who are least worthy, those who have no legal status or right are not only welcome in the kingdom, but show the rest of us how to graciously receive God’s free gift.

Such was the problem that faced Francis in the thirteenth century. Francis was born in Assisi in 1188, the eldest son of a wealthy textile merchant. He, like many wealthy young men of his day lived a dissolute sort of life spending his Father’s money on fine clothing and on carousing and drinking with his friends. In a time of inter-city wars and rivalry, Francis had dreams of grandeur of becoming a military hero – a knight who would win the heart of a fair lady.  An opportunity came for him to join the forces of Prince of Taranto and to fight for the Pope in the south of Italy. He told his brothers that he would return a knight. However, within a day he had returned home having heard a voice from God. Once home, having no clear sense of what God intended for him, he returned to his former lifestyle, though it held none of the attraction that it had had before.

Gradually, Francis changed his life. He became more and more concerned for the poor, more and more determined that he should share the poverty of Christ, and more and more determined to give up his extravagant lifestyle and embrace a life of prayer. At first Francis remained at home, living more simply and giving generously to those in need. He showed compassion to all and especially to those suffering from leprosy who were not only destitute, but who were also excluded from society because of their disease.  Eventually Francis gave up all his wealth, renounced his inheritance and adopted a simple life in the countryside around his hometown. He wore a robe in the shape of a cross and in warm weather and cold wore only sandals on his feet. Like a beggar he became completely dependent on the goodness of others. Like the disciples of Jesus he went from town to town proclaiming the gospel of Jesus.

In time he was joined by others, who like him had become aware of the hollowness of their lives.  Despite this Francis was haunted by a sense of his sinfulness. How could he possibly be worthy of the Kingdom? On one occasion when he was oppressed with grief and worry, he had a vision of Jesus weighed down by the cross struggling up the hill of Calvary and he remembered the words of the fourth Gospel: “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” He understood at once that it was not anything that he had done, but that it was what God had done that had secured his entry into the kingdom. At that point he knew that he didn’t have to compete with others, to achieve a certain standard or to be part of the in-group. He simply had to accept what God had done in Christ and to allow himself to be completely dependent on God’s mercy.

This simple, child-like trust in God determined the remainder of Francis’ life. He was able to let go of his need to be in control and to place his life in God’s hands. He finally understood his total dependence on God’s mercy, his need to receive the kingdom of God as a child.

In our individualistic, achievement driven world, the idea that child-like dependence is something to be valued is utterly incomprehensible. And yet, Jesus tells us that dependence is the very criterion that entrance into the Kingdom of God demands. God who owes us nothing has given us everything. The gift of the Kingdom is ours for the taking. All that we have to do is to swallow our pride, let go of our independence and gratefully reach out our hands to receive what is offered.

 

 

Cutting off our hands?

September 29, 2012

Pentecost 18

Mark 9:37-50

Marian Free

 In the name of God who urges us to be set free from those things which inflict hurt on others or which bind ourselves to this world. Amen.

If I were to watch the musical Godspel today, I’m sure that I would find it very dated. The great Jesus musicals – Jesus Christ Superstar and Godspel came out of the sixties and Godspel in particular captured the spirit of the age – flower power, peace and love. I first watched Godspel as a film and was especially moved by the way in which the relationships between Jesus and the disciples were played out. Because I had enjoyed it so much I leapt at the chance to take our children when the Arts Theatre produced Godspel. A group of families from our church booked tickets and off we went. All was well until the actors burst into a song about cutting off hands and feet and tearing out eyes. Not only was it incongruous to hear such gruesome things being sung in what was a light hearted sort if way, but I was conscious that collectively we, the parents, were exposing our children to something that really didn’t seem to fit with the gospel of God’s love that we were trying to share with them!

Fortunately, none of them seem to have been scarred by the experience, but it is a memory that has stayed with me and has served as a reminder that our scriptures are not always immediately transparent and open to understanding but can sometimes cause confusion or offense.

The reading from Mark’s gospel today contains at least one incident, a response to that incident and several sets of Jesus’ saying. Last week we saw that Jesus caught the disciples discussing who was the greatest. This week’s reading begins with a continuation of that theme. John informs Jesus that someone is casting out demons in Jesus’ name apparently expecting Jesus to be affronted. Given that the disciples have only recently failed to perform an exorcism, John’s comment reveals a certain smugness about being part of Jesus’ inner circle and a determination to protect the exclusiveness of that relationship.

John’s arrogance is quickly confronted by Jesus who makes the powerful and inclusive statement that: “anyone who is not against us is for us.” Discipleship is not exclusive or hierarchical but is available to anyone who chooses not to opt out. This inclusiveness is illustrated by the comment that anyone who gives a cup of water to the disciples because they are disciples will be rewarded. Being included does not require grand gestures or even heroic self-sacrifice. Even such an apparently small act of giving water demonstrates an allegiance toJesus which will not go unnoticed. So far so good, but suddenly we are confronted by a number of apparently unrelated sayings about millstones, self-mutilation, Gehenna and salt.

We make a mistake if we try to read such groupings as following what we consider to be a logical progression. The various gospel authors placed their material together in ways that made sense to their hearers. In this instance, certain sayings or events or simply catchwords, have led the author to think of others which seem to fit the context. For example, Jesus’ use of a child to confront the arrogance of the disciples follows naturally into another account of the disciples’ arrogance which in turn is illustrated by the damage that such arrogance could do to a child in faith “a little one”. In turn the illustration of the millstone – an extreme form of punishment in that time because the weight of the stone ensures that the guilty person drowns – leads into another set of sayings which are linked to the first by the word “σκανδαλιζω” – to scandalise or to cause to stumble. Not only are the disciples not to claim an exclusive relationship with Jesus, neither are they to do anything that would cause harm to the faith of someone else. In fact their own behaviour should be flawless. They should not behave in ways that would jeopardise their salvation. In fact, to be safe, to be certain of eternal life, they should remove off the offending body part.

It was these words that caused my distress during Godspel. However, I now know that Jesus doesn’t intend us to take these violent instructions literally. Here as elsewhere he uses hyperbole to get our attention and to make a point. Language that is particularly gruesome in the twentieth century would not have been so confronting to Jesus’ audience. They lived in harsher, more violent times. For Jesus to suggest that the community formed in his name should be legless and armless, or that they should all practice self-mutilation would have been understood as ludicrous.

The use of exaggeration by Jesus is not limited to this set of sayings. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus has said that anyone who calls their brother “a fool” is guilty of murder and that anyone who looks at a woman with lust in his heart is an adulterer. It is not that Jesus wants to have us drowning in a sea of guilt, feeling that we will never achieve the impossible standard that he sets or that we will never be worthy of the kingdom. He uses these dramatic statements to help us to recognize and to confront the sort of arrogance that allows us to believe that we are superior to any one else. The arresting sayings are to make us aware of our own short comings and to help us to see that our arrogance is generally ill-founded, to understand that most, if not all of us, have some sort of flaws and that, as a result none of us can lord it over others or congratulate ourselves on how good we are in comparison to them. By our very arrogance or simply through our complacency, Jesus suggests, our words or actions may bring the gospel into disrepute or cause others to misunderstand or to reject the gospel. We might just as we’ll drown ourselves.

While it is a relief to know that we can keep all our appendages, we are not, as a result, let off the hook. Jesus is indeed setting the bar high and encouraging us to rise to the challenge. Arrogance, lust, greed, self-centredness, jealousy, hatred and so on have no place in the life hereafter. That being the case, we would do well to rid ourselves of all such negative qualities now, because they will be of no use and will not be welcome in the Kingdom of God.

Jesus’ topsy turvy world

September 22, 2012

Pentecost 17

Mark 9:30-37

Marian Free

In the name of God who turns everything on its head and asks us to serve those who are least among us. Amen.

 

I didn’t watch much of the recent Olympics. However, what I did watch led me to conclude that there was a considerable difference between Australians competing in the Olympics and those competing in the Para-Olympics. Of course the competitors in both competitions shared the will to win, but it seemed to me that the former had a much greater investment in winning and the latter seemed to understand that simply by being at the Olympics, they were already winners.

I was particularly perturbed by the media coverage of the Olympics which implied that anything less than a Gold Medal was not good enough. There was little celebration of the silver and bronze winners and a focus on how much a competitor lost (in terms of endorsements) if they had not come in first. This was followed by a focus on the trainers and the training programme and how they had let the team down – particularly in the swimming.  It is true that Australia has done well in the pool in the past and we have come to expect a large medal tally. At the same time we are a relatively small country and it is perhaps irrational to assume that we will always dominate the rest of the world in any one sport.

The desire to compete and to win is perfectly natural, but the failure to accept loss on an individual, team or even national level takes away some of the pleasure that comes from participating. If the newspapers are to be believed, this attitude permeates all levels of competition. Parents watching children’s games have become so aggressive that their behaviour has to be controlled and some are taking extreme measures such as sending their children to psychologists to “cure” them of anxiety or any other characteristic which might limit their determination to win.

How different these attitudes are from that advocated in today’s gospel in which three distinct episodes are recorded to portray the expectations of leadership in the Jesus’ movement. The section begins with Jesus’ prediction of his handing over and death, it continues with the disciple’s discussion about who is the greatest and concludes with Jesus’ response. It seems highly likely that the author has deliberately placed these accounts together in order to make the point that the Christian ideal of leadership is the exact reverse of that of the world.

The disciple’s discussion as to who is the greatest throws into sharp relief their complete failure to understand what Jesus has just said. The leadership Jesus exercises will not lead to power and glory, but to disgrace and ignominy. As leader of this group of disciples, Jesus will provide an example of leadership that is completely contradictory to everything they know about leadership and authority. Jesus will not exert power over others, just the reverse, he will allow himself to be handed over and killed.

Jesus’ prediction of his death seems just too hard for the disciples to bear, or perhaps they simply cannot get their heads around something so radical and unexpected. Either way, they were so frightened and confused that they were afraid to ask him what he meant.  Their complete lack of understanding of what Jesus has said is demonstrated by the argument which follows. This lack of understanding is typical for Mark’s gospel. Jesus’ prediction of his death and resurrection is, on each occasion followed by an illustration of this disciple’s complete failure to understand. In an earlier chapter, Jesus’ announcement is followed by Peter’s insistence that he (Jesus) is wrong and after a third prediction of his death and resurrection, James and John, having learned nothing from today’s discussion, ask Jesus if they can sit at his right and left hand in heaven! The disciples are, apparently, completely nonplussed by a leader who expects to die rather than conquer and one who serves rather than demanding service.

Their misunderstanding is highlighted by their argument about greatness. For some reason Jesus is not with them for the discussion, but the way in which the narrative continues suggests that Jesus has some idea what is going on.

When Jesus and the disciples arrive at Capernaum they go into a house. Jesus asks what it was that they were discussing on the way. Their silence indicates some embarrassment.  Jesus has just told them that he is going to die at the hands of humans and their response was to argue about was which of them was more important than the others. Jesus calls the Twelve apart and tells them: Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.”  This is completely contradictory to us. It was even more so in the first century when distinctions between social groupings were more clearly drawn. In world in which people are distinguished by rank or achievement, how can being last possibly be the standard against which one is measured? How can being a servant set one apart from the crowd? It jut doesn’t make sense – not in the first century culture and not in the culture in which we find ourselves.

Even more shocking and dramatic was Jesus’ illustration of this teaching. He took a child in his arms and claimed that whoever received a child received him, whoever serves a child serves him. The impact of this statement can only be understood when one remembers the first century attitude towards children that is reflected for example in Proverbs or in the Greco-Roman literature. In the first century, children and servants had no legal status. They were considered willful and undisciplined. They needed to be instructed and formed. Children were the property of their father no one would think of being their servant any more than we today would like to put ourselves in a position of being told what to do by those with so much less wisdom and experience than ourselves.

The disciples must have been shocked and affronted by what Jesus said.  Could Jesus really mean that they had to put themselves in the humiliating position of serving even children?

Of course, this is exactly what Jesus meant.  Jesus introduced a completely new way of being in community. The old ways of measuring status and achievement are completely overturned. Jesus is establishing a community which will operate by completely new standards and criteria. It will stand out from the world around it by the way in which members serve each other rather than lord it over each other.

This Is the standard to which we are called to aspire and by which we are to be distinguished from the world around us. Contrary to the standards of the world we are to be known by the way in which we put others (including the least deserving) before ourselves, our willingness to serve rather than to be served and our readiness to be last rather than first.

Taking up our cross

September 15, 2012

Pentecost 16

Proverbs 1.20-33, Ps 19, James 2.18-26,Mark 8.27-38

Marian Free

In the name of God who created us, and who despite our failures and our disloyalty, loved us enough to die for us. Amen.

Last weekend Michael and I attended the great debate that was a part of the Brisbane Writer’s Festival. We went in part because Germaine Greer was one of the speakers and in part because of the topic: “Reading the Bible is good for you.” Sadly it was a little disappointing. First of all, two of the speakers for the affirmative claimed that the Bible was “silly” and no one for the affirmative had a very strong argument for reading the Bible. Secondly, when it came to what was to be a free for all, there was such a degree of self-consciousness among the speakers that instead of an “no holds barred” argument, it simply fell flat.

That said, the third speaker for the negative, Ben Law a local writer and comedian, was witty and insightful. He began by saying that he quite liked the Bible, but that it was a document that could not be read without assistance because it was open to misinterpretation and to abuse. He supported the views of the other speakers for the negative, the first of whom pointed out that the way in which many Americans read their Bible has led to the most punitive of legal systems. The other had reminded us that well-meaning, but often misguided missionaries in this country and elsewhere have destroyed local language, culture and self-respect to impose a Western faith and lifestyle.

We all know that the Bible is filled with wisdom, love and compassion, but we cannot deny that it also contains accounts of God-sanctioned genocide, that its heroes are flawed and include in their number adulterers and murderers, that in the Psalms there are threats to bash babies heads against rocks and that its God constantly threatens wholesale destruction both of God’s people and of their enemies. Using the Bible as their defense Christians have embarked on the crusades, justified the enslaving of members of other races and have even engaged in battles against each other.

At the same time, the Bible has inspired believers to great acts of courage and self-sacrifice. Christians have for millennia cared for the poorest of the poor, fought to ensure the end of slavery, were among the first to respond to the AIDS crisis and have laid down their lives for others. The Bible inspired Bonheoffer to take on Adolf Hitler and Gandhi and Martin Luther King to struggle for justice for their people.

The Bible is a complex collection of writings. Today’s readings are an example of just how difficult and confusing it can be to read the Bible and how easily it can be misunderstood. Let me illustrate:

From the Book of Proverbs we read that God will laugh at our calamity and mock when panic strikes us. The letter to James tells us that the early church was already debating what should be believed with regard to faith and works. Not only that, there is in James a reference to Isaac’s offering of his son Jacob as if willingness to sacrifice a child was a laudable thing to do. Fortunately the Psalm has a much more positive message, but read in a particular way it could be seen to argue that those who keep the law will be rewarded.

Having listened to this morning’s readings what message are you going to take home? If you were asked this afternoon, what would you say about the Bible based on the passages from Proverbs or James? Would you be advising someone to read them without an interpretive aid?

Even today’s Gospel is not without some difficulties. Jesus says: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” Having announced his own impending death, Jesus urges his followers to understand that a life worth living is a life that is lived for God and for others rather than for oneself. He is trying to help them to understand that being outward looking rather than inward looking is not only a means to eternal life, but is also more rewarding in the present.

Jesus knew only too well that living for God is not necessarily safe or comfortable and that sometimes living for God and for others leads to being marginalised, excluded and even killed. However he encourages us to place our trust and our confidence in God because he knows that a life centred on God is infinitely richer than a life lived without God. That a life that is lived outwards has greater depth and provides more satisfaction than one that is wholly self-absorbed.

Sadly, in popular usage, this important aspect of Christian living has been tamed and domesticated. It has been transformed from something that is live giving, to something that is life denying, from a focus on God to a focus on oneself.  The phrase, “Taking up one’s cross” is used colloquially to imply that there is something praise-worthy in living stoically with pain, with difficult relationships or with disappointment. Used in this way, self- denial all too easily becomes self-absorption and dependence on God becomes dependence on oneself. Instead of taking up one’s cross of one’s own volition the cross becomes something that is imposed from outside, something to be endured, something to be borne. Used in this way, the cross is not the way to life but to a living death.

So, as the church recognised right up until the Reformation, reading the Bible is good for you, but only if it is read with understanding and care, keeping some basic precepts in mind.

When we read the Bible, we have to remember that even the Old Testament is God’s love letter to God’s people, that God, instead of wreaking destruction, constantly holds his hand, that God instead of condemning us for our betrayals, came to us, entered our world and died for us. We have to remember too that the Bible is not an instrument of power to be wielded over others to make them conform to our values and ideals nor is it to be used to enslave or subjugate others. When we read the Bible we have to remember that the Christ who died for us, demonstrated the love and compassion that lie at the heart of God.

Most importantly of all, when we read the Bible we have to read it through the lens of the cross, to remember, through the course of our lives, that it is in dying to ourselves and living to God that true wealth is to be found and that if we take up our cross we do so not to burden ourselves or to prove a point, but because we are confident that it leads to fullness of life both in the present and in the life to come.

Changing the world

September 8, 2012

Pentecost 15

Mark 7:24-37

Marian Free

In the name of God whose shoulders are broad enough to bear our complaints and whose love is wide enough to respond. Amen.

I’m sure that most of you will have heard the extraordinary and moving story of the young Australian woman whose fiancé is living with locked-in syndrome as a result of a football injury. My google search failed to find the story, so I will call the couple Rachel and David. Rachel and David were preparing for their wedding when David knocked his head during a football match. When he woke from his coma, he was unable to do anything. Though fully aware of what was gong on around him, he could not move nor could he communicate. He was suffering from locked-in syndrome for which there is no known cure. For Rachel this situation was not good enough. She loved David and was determined that he should have the best life possible. In order to achieve this, Rachel moved into David’s parent’s home to be able to help care for him. Then, with David’s Father, she spent every spare minute researching a cure.

Hope came when, after extensive searching, they discovered that a doctor in South Africa had discovered that a particular sleeping tablet sometimes had the opposite effect that is, with particular patients it caused them to be more alert than usual. Rachel contacted the doctor to see if the same drug might assist David. After a number of discussions and a full consideration of the risks involved, she decided to give David a small dose of the medication. To their joy and amazement, the drug brought David out of his locked-in state! For an hour, he was able to communicate, to share how he had been feeling, his frustration and hopes. Sadly, at the time the programme was shown, the family had not been able to increase the times of alertness nor was there an clear understanding of how the drug worked. However, at lest for a short time each day, David is able to communicate and Rachel has her partner to talk to. No one knows what lies ahead for David but the determination of his fiancé has meant that his quality of life will be so much better than had she given up hope or given up on him.

People will go to amazing lengths for those whom they love. Magazines and newspapers are filled with inspiring stories of families and friends doing all that they can to ensure that the person whom they love has access to the best possible care even if that means taking them overseas. Others raise money to build care facilities that enable young people to receive care without going to an old people’ home. Many spend hours helping a family member or friend to recover from accident or stroke. Others establish funds or foundations to assist other people who are afflicted in the same way as their loved one and yet others challenge the laws to see justice truly done. We have all witnessed the way in which Daniel Morcombe’s parents responded to the disappearance of their son. They have spent years keeping their story in front of us in an attempt to make sure that their son was found. As well they have established programmes to educate children about “stranger danger.

The list of stories could go on and on and on. What is clear is that love doesn’t see the barriers that are put in the way, but pushes through sometimes with unexpected and astounding results. Very often the changes that result form such persistence help not only the family concerned but have much wider implications – changes to the legal system or to treatment regimes, funds for ongoing research all benefit the wider community.

Such is the case with the woman in today’s gospel. She is not even supposed to know that Jesus is in the area and, as a woman and a Gentile, probably shouldn’t even being trying to approach him. However, she is driven by desperation. Her daughter is unwell and like, most parents, she will do whatever it takes to save her. Even when Jesus refuses point-blank to help, the woman is undeterred. She breaks through Jesus’ argument to persuade him that even those outside the chosen people are able to access “the crumbs” that fall from the table. Jesus is unable to resist this logic and the woman’s daughter is healed. The long-term result of the woman’s persistence is that the community that formed in Jesus’ name was not restricted to those of Jewish birth, but was thrown open to people from all backgrounds and from every nation. Jesus’ mind was changed by the woman’s word (teaching) and history was changed as a result!

Too often we feel powerless to change our situation – either because of our physical abilities, societal restrictions, family background, income or other reason. Some of us assume that our situation in life is “the will of God” and submit, sometimes grudgingly, to the hand life has dealt us. The example of the Syrophoenician woman challenges these negative assumptions. While it is true that it is not always possible to bring about change – the cure for our disease might not be found in our life-time, it may take years and years for a refugee to find a country that will them – that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t try to bring about change or that we shouldn’t challenge society (or even God) about the way things are.

Often it is the most unlikely people who effect change – sometimes on a huge scale. The Syrophoenician woman was an outsider, with no position in society and almost certainly no income to boast of yet, according to this account she was able to change the mind of Jesus, and as a result, to change the course of history.

We may not be able to change the world, but it may be possible to change our small corner. Things don’t always work out the way we hope but whether they do or not, let it not be for the want of trying.

Giving our all

September 1, 2012

Mavis Parkinson

Pentecost 14, 2012

New Guinea Martyrs

Marian Free

 In the name of God in whose service we are asked to give our all. Amen.

 There were many speeches made during the second World War to inspire the troops, to give courage to those experiencing the bombing raids and so on. On the 31st of January 1942, Bishop Philip Strong made his regular radio broadcast to the missionaries in New Guinea.  It is  a war time speech worth repeating almost in full. He said:

“Now I would like a heart-to-heart talk with you. As far as I know, you are all at your posts and I am very glad and thankful about this. I have from the first felt that we must endeavour to carry on our work in all circumstances no matter what the cost may ultimately be to any of us individually. God expects this of us. The Church at home, which sent us out, will surely expect it of us. The Universal Church expects it. The tradition and history of missions requires it of us. Missionaries who have been faithful to the uttermost and are now at rest are surely expecting it of us. The people whom we serve expect it of us. We could never hold up our faces again, if, for our own safety, we all forsook Him and fled when the shadows of the Passion began to gather around Him in His Spiritual Body, the Church in Papua. Our life in the future would be burdened with shame and we could not come back here and face our people again; and we would be conscious always of rejected opportunities. The history of the Church tells us that missionaries do not think of themselves in the hour of danger and crisis, but of the Master who called them to give their all, and of the people they have been trusted to serve and love to the uttermost. His watchword is none the less true today, as it was when he gave it to the first disciples–“Whosoever will save his life will lose it, and whosoever will lose his life for My sake and the Gospel’s shall find it.

No one requires us to leave. No one has required us to leave. The reports some of you have heard of orders to this effect did not emanate from official or authoritative sources. But even if anyone had required us to leave, we should then have had to obey God rather then men.“

No, my bothers and sisters, fellow workers in Christ, whatever others my do, we cannot leave. We shall not leave. We shall stand by our trust. We shall stand by our vocation.

We do not know what it may mean to us. Many think us fools and mad. What does that matter? If we are fools, “we are fools for Christ’s sake”. I cannot foretell the future. I cannot guarantee that all will be well–that we shall all come through unscathed. One thing only I can guarantee is that if we do not forsake Christ here in Papua in His Body, the Church, He will not forsake us. He will uphold us; He will strengthen us and He will guide us and keep us though the days that lie ahead. If we all left, it would take years for the Church to recover from our betrayal of our trust. If we remain–and even if the worst came to the worst and we were all to perish in remaining–the Church would not perish, for there would have been no breach of trust in its walls, but its foundations and structure would have received added strength for the future building by our faithfulness unto death.”[1]

As a result of this message and as a consequence of the commitment and courage of the missionaries all but a few remained at their posts. During the course of the war that ensued twelve Anglicans, men and women, were executed as the Japanese advanced from the north eastern coast towards the Kokoda trail and Port Moresby. Of those twelve, two represented the Queensland Diocese – Mavis Parkinson (a young teacher from Ipswich) and Vivian Redlich (an English priest who had served as a Bush Brother before volunteering to serve in New Guinea).  Mavis is commemorated in our Te Deum window (as are two other New Guinea martyrs – May Hayman and The Rev’d John Barge). Seventy years ago, on September 1, 1942, Mavis and another woman May Hayman – a nurse – who had been captured by the Japanese, were taken by their captors to pre-dug graves where they were repeatedly bayoneted and then buried.

It is impossible to give you a full account, but I recommend that you read further (see below).

According to an unfinished letter from Mavis, the two women and a priest fled their mission station when they saw several Japanese boats off the coast. The crews began to shell the station and to disembark soldiers. When they realised that they were at risk, the three gathered a few belongings and some food and set off (as they had been instructed) to a neighbouring mission. They reached a  nearby village in safety but decided that they posed a risk to the locals. and so determined to move on.  In a letter home Mavis describes the events in detail. She tells how they left the path and struck off through the jungle in order to avoid the enemy. She relates the experience of sleeping rough with the cacophony of the jungle ringing in their ears and of struggling to find a way around a swamp before coming again to a recognizable path.

After a time, Mavis, May and the priest from the mission joined some Australian and Papuan servicemen who offered to escort them to Popondetta. However, before they reached safety,  their whereabouts was betrayed. The group were ambushed and separated. The women were captured, imprisoned and interrogated. When they refused to cooperate they were taken out and killed.

Saints and martyrs do not belong to a long forgotten age, but live and die for God even in our own time. In the twentieth century, there were more martyrs than in all the centuries before that. The lives and witness of such people challenge us to be true to our faith, strong in the face of difficulty and courageous in the presence of danger.  As today we remember the example of Mavis Parkinson, may we be challenged and encouraged to strengthen our own faith so that in the unlikely event that we will be called to stand firm, we will not be found wanting.

Further reading:

Faithful unto Death by E.C. Rowland (available in full on the web).

Vivian Redlich’s brother David has written an account of his life.

A google search will reveal other references/sermons.


Building a house for God

August 25, 2012

 

Pentecost 13

1 Kings 8

Marian Free

 

In the name of God whose majesty, might and power we cannot comprehend and cannot begin to contain. Amen.

‘Yahweh had been tamed and domesticated. He had been put in his house and told to expect visitors, he was to be available as required. but could you do that to Abraham’s God who always travelled ahead of his people? Could you do that to the terrifying God of Exodus and Sinai, the God who was no one’s puppet? In the years to come there were to be many questions about the Temple. For all its exquisite beauty, for all then hopes and longings of the pilgrims who wound their way up to Jerusalem, there were many who saw the Temple as a danger to the true worship of the Lord. Could a God who had always been on the move be made to stand still?’

One only has to see the footage of the crowds at the ‘wailing wall’ in Jerusalem or to reflect on the tensions that surround the Temple Mount or the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem to understand the place of the Temple in the Jewish imagination. The history of the Temple is filled with drama. It was dreamt of by David, built by Solomon, destroyed by the Babylonians, re-built by the Jews, extended by Herod and finally and to this date, irrevocably, destroyed by the Romans. Until its destruction by Rome, the Temple was the centre and the unifying element for the Jewish people. Up until the time of Jesus thousands flocked to Jerusalem for the major religious festivals. Week by week the priests made burnt offerings of behalf of the people.

The Temple was not like our Parish churches, or even our modern Cathedrals. Weekly services of worship were not held in its precincts. Synagogues were the places for meeting and teaching. The Temple was for worship and sacrifice. The worship of our Cathedrals is replicated in our Parish churches which are modeled on their design. In the time of Solomon there were no synagogues and when, after the return from exile, synagogues were established in towns and villages, their purpose was far removed from that of the temple. Nothing and nowhere could achieve the purpose and significance of the Temple.

The original Temple was quite small by our standards. It was not so much a place of worship, but a place in which offerings could be made.  As we can see from the description of the dedication of the Temple, worshippers may have gathered around its walls during the great festivals, but they were not expected to enter in large numbers. The holiest of holies – the place in which the burnt offerings were made – could only be entered by an allotted priest.

Visits to the Vatican and other European cathedrals reveal the sort of generosity that believers pour out to express their devotion to God. By all accounts Solomon’s Temple, despite its size, would surpass them all in extravagance. From the time of the Exodus to the time of David, Yahweh had been worshipped in the tent of meeting which could be packed up and re-erected as the Israelites travelled to the promised land. When David succeeded Saul as King, he built himself a splendid palace. It was only when his home was complete that he was struck by the fact that while he lived in a palace, God was only provided with a tent. This was not a problem for God of course, who forbade David from building a Temple. The fact that this task was then given to Solomon indicates that this was not a permanent ban.

Planning for the Temple began while David was still alive, but building only started in earnest when Solomon acceded to the throne and peace with neighboring countries had been established. According to the first book of Kings the building of the Temple was quite an undertaking. The timber alone took 30,000 men to cut it in shifts of 10,000 at a time. At the quarry there 70,000 labourers, 80,000 stonecutters and 3,300 supervisors. The interior of the building was completely covered with the timber much of which was elaborately carved. All of the interior and its decoration was completely covered in pure gold. On top of this were all the various furnishings and vessels which were likewise made of gold or other precious metals. It must have been completely overwhelming – a house fit for God who was no longer housed in conditions below that of the king.

After all that expenditure and all that effort why Solomon’s moment of doubt? At the very moment at which the Temple is to be dedicated Solomon is struck by one thing – God cannot be contained. There is no human structure that is able to hold and house God, not even something of such splendour and beauty. In the midst of his prayer he exclaims: “But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house that I have built!” The nature of his prayer changes as a result of his insight. As he acknowledges that God cannot be forced to stay still he prays that God will respond to those who pray in the Temple, that God will hear the prayers of those who turn towards the Temple and respond to those who so for forgiveness. Solomon asks not only for the people of Israel, but for anyone who would turn to Israel’s God in prayer.

The quote with which I began captures Solomon’s dilemma. God who had spoken to Moses in the burning bush, God who had led the people out of Egypt in a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, God who had thundered from Mt Sinai when the law was given was not to be bound but to be acknowledged, worshipped and adored. The Temple was and only ever could be a sign of the people’s loyalty, recognition of and obedience to that God.

It is wonderful to have beautiful places in which to offer prayer and praise to God. It is natural to want to offer to God our very best – in buildings, in furnishings and in sacred vessels. However it is important to recognize – as did Solomon – that these are simply expressions of our love. However lavish and beautiful they are, they cannot trap God into remaining still, they cannot be used to insist that God has an obligation to us. God is greater and more magnificent than anything that we can build and cannot be limited by time or space.

We will continue to build places of beauty and awe, but nothing will ever be as awesome as the real thing. We should not be blinded by human edifices – whether our buildings, our institutions or anything else we have created to help us express our faith – but should constantly and fearfully open ourselves to the presence of God wherever we are and wherever we may be.

When it gets too hard do you wish to go away?

August 19, 2012

Pentecost 12

John 6:51-58

Marian Free

 In the name of God – source of life, wisdom and joy. Amen.

 “Do you also wish to go away?” Jesus’ question to his disciples in verse 67 catches us by surprise. These are the people with whom he has chosen to share his mission, his most private moments. In their turn, they have chosen to follow him despite what others might think. Why would they now want to go away? Today’s gospel helps us to understand the lead up to Jesus’ question. In fact, we have to go back to the beginning of chapter 6 to see how the tension builds to the point where some disciples leave Jesus and Jesus is forced to ask the remainder if they too wish to leave. The author of John’s gospel records the account of the feeding of the five thousand and Jesus’ walking on the water as do the other three gospels. According to the author of John, the crowds which have been following Jesus, discover that he is on the other side of the lake and pursue him. This provides Jesus with an opportunity to challenge their self-centredness and to elaborate on his role and his mission.

Jesus perceives that the crowds are primarily interested in what he can do for them – provide food, heal the sick and so on. These signs, while important, are not the real reason that Jesus is here. He challenges those who have followed to seek the deeper meaning of Jesus’ presence among them. Bread sustains the body for a limited time. Jesus asks his listeners to consider the sort of food that will sustain them in the present and more importantly for eternity. He asks them to look beyond their physical needs for sustenance and to seek the food that endures – the spiritual food that sustains the soul. This is the food that he provides to those who seek it.

As part of this argument, Jesus claims to be the ‘bread of life’. We are so familiar with this concept that it can be difficult for us to understand how such a discussion could create the sort of offense that would cause some of Jesus’ disciples to abandon him and Jesus to ask if others too wish to go away. Jesus as the ‘bread of life’ provides us with strength and courage, spiritual nourishment and support.  Perhaps if Jesus had left the argument there his disciples would have remained with him. However, Jesus has claimed to be the bread from heaven which endures forever – unlike the manna in the wilderness which sustained the Israelites in the present, but which was unable to give them eternal life. Among his listeners would have been those who would have heard Jesus’ suggestion that he was more important than – in fact that he had superseded Moses.

If that claim were not confronting enough, Jesus makes the even more disturbing claim: “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this brad will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh. Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” Not only is the idea of eating flesh and drinking blood utterly repulsive, it is impossible for Jesus’ audience to grasp such a difficult and distressing concept. Many of them know Jesus, they know his mother and his father. They know that he is a human being like themselves – how can he say that he has come down from heaven? It is impossible for them to even begin to conceive that it is possible, let alone necessary for them to consume this man’s flesh and blood if they are to have eternal life! No wonder many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him! They say: “This teaching is difficult, who can accept it?”

They have failed to understand that Jesus, through this dramatic and uncomfortable language, Jesus is asking his followers not to physically eat him, but to become one with him, to allow him to become so much a part of them that it is as if they are indeed one flesh and blood. Eating and drinking are metaphors for this complete unity. In some way faith is a process of somehow absorbing Jesus into our lives and allowing our lives to be absorbed into that of Jesus.

Eating and drinking are strong images, but they are not totally unfamiliar. We say to children: “I could just eat you!” We don’t mean that literally, we just mean that we love them so much that we don’t want to be separated from them. This is the sort of relationship that Jesus is asking his disciples (and us) to have with him.

It is at this point that Jesus asks those who remain: “Do you also wish to go away?” To which Peter responds: “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.  We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” Peter, who so often fails to understand, who so often gets it wrong has cut to the core. He may not always understand what Jesus has to say, but he knows what Jesus means – to himself and to the world. Peter may not really understand Jesus’ teaching at this point, but he is sure of one thing – that there is nowhere that he would rather be, nowhere else that he would receive the sort of spiritual guidance that he has found in Jesus. He knows that in the present and in the future, it is his relationship with Jesus that has opened the doors of heaven.

I suspect that it is the same for us. There may be times when we do not understand – when scripture seems too difficult, when the events of our lives or the lives of others seem inexplicable – but we with Peter know that Jesus is the means to eternal life. We have thrown in our lot with Jesus, and nothing in this life or the next will separate us.

 

 

 

 

Bread of life

August 11, 2012

Pentecost 11

John 6:35, 41-51 

Marian Free

In the name of God who sustains and fulfils us. Amen.

 Some years ago there was an advertisement for a (then) popular deodorant. The ad featured a beautiful woman holding up various essential items and saying things like: “I can do without my iPhone, I can do without my hair dryer, I can do without my first cup of coffee, but I can’t do without my Mum.” Of course, it’s a play on words. Our minds immediately leap to the conclusion that she can’t do without her mother, but in fact Mum is the brand name of the deodorant that she is promoting! It was a clever piece of advertising – not only because obviously I still remember it, but also because for a while, the phrase: “I can’t do without” passed into common use.

In the scale of things, deodorant is a particularly superficial item to be unable to go without. People are starving and dying of disease every day, surely we can go without something that is not vital to our well-being, but only to our vanity. However, the goal of advertising is to convince us that we simply cannot do without the latest fashion, the latest kitchen items, the latest phone or computer. Many of us today have lives cluttered with things that we do not absolutely need, but which seemed a good idea at the time. It gives pause for thought. What do we really require for a reasonable life? What things are absolutely essential for our well-being and what things are essentially luxuries?

Some of the things we need are obvious. We simply cannot survive without water, oxygen and a certain amount of food. Warmth and shelter are also good but not necessary. In 1943 a man named Abraham Maslow published a seminal paper in which he identified a hierarchy of needs. All these years later psychology students would be familiar, if not with his work, then with the hierarchy to which he gave his name. The hierarchy he developed suggests that a person’s basic needs must be met in order for them to be creative and moral. So at the bottom of the hierarchy are things like breathing, food, water, sex. When those needs are met a person may becomes aware of the need for safety (both physical and economic). When one is fed and safe, love and belonging become important for happiness. These are followed, Maslow would say, by the need for self-esteem (confidence, achievement, respect form others). It is only when all these underlying needs are met, he claims, that a person is able to achieve self-actualisation – creativity, spontaneity, lack of prejudice and so on.

There are some flaws in Maslow’s argument. A number of creative people are creative, not because they have reached some higher dimension of existence, but precisely because their needs for love or something else have not been met. Their art is drawn not from their self-fulfilment, but from their suffering. Likewise we often witness people who to us, seem to be living in the most dire of circumstances and yet who are able to express surprising joy and inclusiveness.

Today’s gospel is part of a long discourse on bread in which Jesus claims to be both the bread of life and the living bread that has come down from heaven. For many people bread is one of the staples of life. Jesus appears to be claiming that he is both essential for life and that a relationship with him is the key to eternal life. In contrast to Maslow’s hierarchy, Jesus places himself at the bottom of the pyramid and implies that all else in life is built on faith in him.

As he does so often, Jesus seems to be challenging his audience to consider where their priorities lie and where they place their relationship with him in comparison to their other needs and wants. By claiming to be the bread of life and by comparing himself with the manna in the wilderness, Jesus is suggesting that his listeners need to place him at the centre of their lives, to have the confidence that if they put him at the heart, all else will fall into place. Jesus is claiming that faith in him is essential to the well-being of all people. It is not an optional extra that can be drawn on only when it is absolutely needed, rather it is the central requirement for a life that is rich and satisfying.

This is more difficult that it appears – especially for Jesus listeners. Many of them have known him all his life, they know his parents and they know that he didn’t come down from heaven, but was born in the usual way. For Jesus’ audience accepting that he was who he said he was meant suspending their rational minds and allowing themselves to trust that what Jesus said was indeed true and that he could supply all their wants. Further, it meant letting go what they had believed until now and trusting that God was indeed doing something new in Jesus, that they faith they had held was being enlarged to include all that Jesus did and taught. For many this was an impossible task. They simply could not make the leap. They could accept Jesus as a miracle worker, but not as the source of their being or the most essential part of their lives.

This sort of faith is no easier for our generation. Faith still does involve a suspension of the rational and a belief in something that ultimately cannot be proven. The faith that Jesus demands is not new to us as it was to Jesus’ first century listeners. We are not caught by surprise as they were. However, that does not mean that it is easy. For ourselves, accepting Jesus as the bread of life entails trusting Jesus with one’s whole life and not just with part of it. It means relying on Jesus (and not on our own strength) when things get tough. It means learning to be grateful for all that we have and knowing that Jesus will give us those things that we really need. It means that Jesus is the one thing in life that we simply cannot do without.

What is the one thing in life that you cannot do without? Is your answer Jesus?