Who is my neighbour?

July 12, 2025

Pentecost 5 – 2025

Luke 10:25-37

Marian Free

In the name of God whose love knows no constraints. Amen.

I don’t know about you, but at the moment I am overwhelmed by the state of the world, and I feel utterly powerless to intervene or to make any difference at all. Gaza, of course, is the most demanding of our attention, but not us let forget Ukraine, South Sudan and all the other nations involved in on-going conflict or civil war. Then there is the changing geopolitical situation and the potential economic consequence of the US tariffs and aid cuts. All over the world innocent people are suffering the effects of climate change and the increasing unpredictability of the weather. Here in Australia the people of Northern Rivers have experienced once in a lifetime flood twice in two years. They barely have time to recover before they have to begin again. (And that in a wealthy first world country. Imagine trying to re-build one’s life and livelihood in a nation without the resources to which we have access.) I find myself paralysed with indecision. What difference can I make? Will my small contributions help at all? 

I’m not even sure how to pray. In the first instance, I do not have the words to use. Secondly, I am not at all sure that my prayers, however fervent, have made a difference.

It is tempting to throw up my hands and leave it all to God. It is equally tempting to narrow my focus, to decide who and what is most deserving of my help or to justify inaction because not being able to do it all I find myself not doing enough.

In order to rationalise my inaction, I find myself thinking about how different the world today is from Jesus’ world and wonder if some of Jesus’ instructions simply don’t translate into the  21st century. In the first century, there was no social service, there were (at least for those of Jesus’ faith) clear guidelines about responsibility for family, for widows and orphans. Smaller communities meant that people were more aware of other people’s business, and they would probably have known the background of the person who begged them for a small coin or two. Without modern forms of communication very few would have known the state of the world beyond their village or region.

In contrast, today in Australia we have social welfare (even if it is inadequate), six-foot fences separate us from our neighbours and in cities that number millions there is a limit to how much we can know about the circumstances of others. The internet and social media mean that we know about disasters all over the world almost as soon as they happen. 

The question: ‘Who is my neighbour?’ is even more pressing than it was two thousand years ago. I see my physical neighbours only when I make an effort or pass them on the street. It is generally impossible to know how I can be a neighbour to them.

Jesus’ answer to the lawyer’s question is important, but so too is the question, and the intent of the one asking. We are told that the lawyer is seeking to justify himself. He knows the answer to his first question “What must I do?” – he is a lawyer after all. He asks the second question because he wants to limit and confine the extent to which he has to follow the law. He wants to narrow down what it means ‘to love his neighbour as himself.’ 

No doubt the lawyer, and no doubt those who have gathered around fully expect Jesus to limit neighbourliness to fellow Jews. After all, they are the chosen.

Jesus however does at least two unexpected things in his story of the man who was a neighbour. Instead of giving a definition of neighbour, Jesus tells a story of neighbourliness. He subverts the expectation that it will be the good, pious Jews on their way to Jerusalem who will offer assistance to the wounded man, and he gives the starring role to a rank outsider, an enemy, a person considered unclean according to Jewish law! The example of neighbourliness is the person least expected.

The Samaritan did not consider political or social implications of helping a Jew, he did not withhold his help because of the deep enmity between his people and theirs, and he did not stop to consider his capacity to help. (What would he do if the inn keeper charged him more than he could afford?)

Jesus doesn’t directly answer the lawyer’s question. He doesn’t say that the Samaritan is the neighbour who should be loved. What Jesus does is to confront the lawyer with what it means to be a neighbour. Using the despised Samaritan as the example, Jesus makes it clear that there are no boundaries to “neighbour”. Shocking as it might be to Jesus’ audience, it is the outsider who demonstrates that being a neighbour doesn’t consider the race, religion, or economic status of the other. 

Love of neighbour cannot be limited or reduced to a simple formula because the definition of ‘neighbour’ has no bounds. God’s love, and therefore our love does not discriminate between worthy and unworthy, insider or outsider, but is extended to all humanity. 

The problems in the world are overwhelming, but we are not to be discouraged. We will do well if remain open-minded and open-hearted, sympathetic towards the suffering of the good, the bad and the deserving and the undeserving, the familiar and the unfamiliar and if we do all we can to alleviate that suffering through direct support, through volunteering, through political and social action and through prayer.

In this increasingly divided and fractious world. Who is my neighbour? might be the question most demanding of an answer.

Discipleship – foxes have holes

July 1, 2025

Pentecost 3 – 2025

Luke 9:51-62

Marian Free

In the name of God who asks that follow whole-heartedly, that we know what we are and what we are not. Amen.

“Jesus set his face towards Jerusalem.” (Luke 9:51) This verse marks a significant change of direction for Jesus. By and large his ministry in Galilee is over and he and his disciples embark on what will be Jesus’ final journey, his journey towards Jerusalem.  That Jesus knows what lies ahead – his arrest, trial and crucifixion – is clear in the terminology – he set his face. This is a journey that will take all of Jesus’ courage and determination. It is not simply a pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover, but an essential part of his mission and purpose. “He set his face” suggests an action of will not desire. From now on, with some exceptions, Jesus’ teaching will be directed primarily towards his disciples. 

It is perhaps not surprising that this section of the gospel begins with two – albeit very different – reflections on discipleship. 

For reasons unknown to us, Jesus chooses to travel through the territory of the Samaritans on his way to Jerusalem. Given the antagonism between Jew and Samaritan, most Jews would avoid this, the most direct route from Galilee. It is no surprise that the Samaritans refuse hospitality. However, the disciples, perhaps still flushed with the success of their first mission, their ability to heal the sick and to cast out demons, presume to know what it is that Jesus wants. James and John ask if Jesus wants them to call down fire from heaven to consume those who have refused to offer them a welcome. 

These two – the Sons of Thunder – have completely misunderstood Jesus’ mission and their part in it. Jesus has not come to impose his will on those who are not ready for or not receptive to his message.  Nor has Jesus come to destroy all opposition to the good news he has brought. Despite Jesus’ example, James and John have mistakenly let power go to their heads. They have come to know what they can do, but have yet to understand what they cannot and must not do. They are behaving as though they know and can execute God’s will. They have failed to understand that any power that they have has been given to them by God and is to be used in service of God’s will.  James and John have yet to comprehend that following means submitting, that loving includes love of enemies and that it is God, not they, who is the final arbiter and judge.

The next reflection on discipleship deals with those who are not yet followers of Jesus. Jesus’ apparently stern responses to them suggests that he discerns that they may be wanting to follow for the wrong reasons. Like James and John, they do not seem to fully comprehend what it means to be a disciple. James and John may have left homes and incomes to follow Jesus, but as we have seen, despite the fact that Jesus has empowered them as disciples they have a long way to go in their understanding of the role. 

When others ask if they can be followers Jesus needs to be sure that they understand the costs and consequences of following him. Following Jesus does not offer security or power. Being a disciple means recognising that life does not have to be lived according to cultural norms but can be lived according to the standards of the kingdom. Those who want to follow Jesus need to understand that he cannot offer security (foxes have holes, the Son of Man has nowhere), that he expects them to realign their values to those of the kingdom and not to be held back by societal expectations (let the dead bury the dead) and to be clear about their decision not half-hearted (don’t look back).

Each of these sound like stark impossible demands if taken literally – living rough, abandoning familial duties, never looking behind – but the meaning is plain. Being a disciple of Jesus has to be a decision, a decision to put one’s trust completely in Jesus, to refuse to be distracted from the primary goal and to have no regrets. In the first century, this would have been a much harder decision than it is for us. Followers of Jesus would have to make definitive breaks with their families and society; a consequence of their decision might have meant loss of income and home. It would have been tempting to look back with longing for the relationships lost. 

The reasons Jesus demands look so harsh to us is that modern day discipleship does not look so different from citizenship in a notionally Christian nation and the costs of faith are minimal. That is not a reason to take a decision of faith lightly. There will be times when we are called to be counter-cultural, times when others do not understand what we do and why we do it and we will be tempted to fit in – with the values of our families and our culture. There will be times when we have to remember that Jesus didn’t promise us comfort and ease and times when we will have to stand up and be counted. There will be times when we are called to step out in faith without having the security of a fixed direction or safety on the journey.  If such times and trials come, is our faith strong enough to keep us looking forward (rather than looking back with longing at the past).

Put together the readings remind us that discipleship is a decision to follow one whose life of obedience led to death on a cross (not power over nations), discipleship empowers us to bring healing to others, but it does not make us God.

When we give lives to Jesus, we give everything we have and we trust God to give us all that we need.

Finding God in the still, small things

June 21, 2025

Pentecost 2 – 2025

Luke 8:26-39 (1 Kings 19:1-4, 18-15a)

Marian Free

In the name of God whose surprises and little miracles are a part of every day. Amen.

Sometimes I wonder if we are so interested in the dramatic and extraordinary that we miss the important details that are contained in the quiet and seemingly mundane. This can be as true of our everyday lives as it can of world events. The small and not so small miracles occur unremarked because we are so absorbed in the bigger,  more exciting picture. This is equally true when it comes to reading and teaching the Bible. We all know about Moses and the burning bush because of the miracle of a bush burning without being consumed and because God spoke the bush, but it takes someone who is really paying attention to notice that ‘Moses turned aside’. A burning bush has no impact if it is not noticed. If Moses had not paid attention, there would have been no story – no plagues, no Exodus, no promised land. The small details are important.

Of necessity our lectionary has to be selective. In order to read through the gospels in three years, we omit passages that are repeated in the gospels, for example, this year we will not hear the parable of the sower during a Sunday service. The lectionary writers have also judiciously omitted some of the more controversial or offensive passages. A consequence of such decision-making is that small details (connecting sentences, off-hand comments) can be overlooked.

Whether it is our focus on the more dramatic aspects of Scripture, or omissions in the lectionary, our view of scripture can be skewed. 

Such is the case with our journey through Luke’s gospel. At the end of Epiphany, we had read up until the end of chapter 6. Today we have leapt straight to the end of chapter 8. Of course, some of chapters 7 and 8 will be covered in other years, but the omission of these verses mean that we never hear the first few verses of chapter 8 which are unique to Luke and which give us quite a different picture of Jesus’ travelling companions. Luke tells us that: “The twelve were with him, as well as some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities: Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, and Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza, and Susanna, and many others, who provided for them out of their resources.”

Jesus is accompanied, it seems, not only by the 12, but also by a substantial number of women – many others. Notably, these were women of some significance – the wife of Herod’s steward for one. They were also women of some means. Luke tells us that they provided for them out of their own resources. “Them” in this instance appears to refer to Jesus and the 12 – not an insubstantial number to feed and to accommodate. Luke drops this snippet of information into his story as a matter of fact so even were we to hear these lines in church we might be tempted to pass them by and not pay attention to the fact that Jesus’ followers (counted alongside the twelve) were women. We take Luk’es statement for granted, forgetting that in the first century Mediterranean world it was socially unacceptable for women who were not accompanied by male relatives to interact with men.

The story of the Gerasene demoniac is another example of our tendency to focus on the dramatic and to miss the small details. The account of Jesus’ casting the demons from the Gerasene into the pigs is vivid and detailed and includes so much that is amazing and unbelievable that it is these that catch our attention. We are fascinated by the state of the man who had demons – he is naked, lives among the tombs and at times becomes so wild that he is guarded and bound with chains and shackles. Indeed, he becomes so violent at times that he is able to break the chains and disappear into the “wilds”. We are struck by the fact that the poor man has been possessed not by one but by a legion of demons. It is little wonder that we focus on the man’s miraculous recovery and Jesus’ divine power.

Then there are the pigs. What did they do to deserve being possessed by demons that thrust them headlong into the lake? And what of the pig herders whose responsibility it was to tend the pigs?  What punishment will be inflicted on the herders as a consequence of the loss? And so on.

Demon possession and the sorry pigs become front and centre. There is nothing wrong with that, but if we only look at the big picture, we risk missing an important but significant detail. When the people came out to see what had happened, “they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind.” Jesus has not only set the man free, but he has also restored his dignity, his personhood and his freedom. The man is clothed, unbound and has adopted the position of a disciple. Yes, Jesus performed a miracle, but the miracle was only a means to an end – recognising and affirming the humanity of the afflicted man.

When it comes to evangelism, it is easy to try to get people’s attention by focussing on the miraculous, on Jesus’ godly powers. In fact, this is how some people sell the gospel. Believe in Jesus and this can happen to you. (Even believe in Jesus and you will be able to perform miracles.) The reality is often much more down to earth – being seen, being heard, being accepted for who you are. God sees us and, no matter our faults and failings, no matter the things that bind us, God loves us and sets us free to be who we are.

The dramatic and miraculous are only one part of the story. If we pay attention, if we look for the detail, if pay heed to the omissions, we will discover – as did Elijah – that God is not in the wind, not in the earthquake, not in the fire, but in the “sheer silence”.

Three in One God – Trinity Sunday

June 14, 2025

Trinity Sunday – 2025

John 16:12-15

Marian Free

In the name of God, Source of Life, God with us, Empowering Spirit. Amen.

A week or so ago when I was on retreat I read the book The Amen Effect: Ancient Wisdom to Mend our Broken Hearts and World by Sharon Brous. The book is a reflection on ministry and in particular the need to hold the tension between celebration and grief while honouring both. The author is a Jewish Rabbi who was the co-founder of IKAR an innovative Jewish community whose mission statement is “IKAR is a Jewish community rooted in ancient wisdom and inspired by the moral mandate to build a more just and loving world. We are dedicated to reimagining Jewish life through deep relationships and shared values, intellectual and spiritual curiosity, piety and irreverence, joy and defiant hope.” Based in Los Angeles the community numbers around 1000 members. 

As I read, I felt that everyone entering ministry or pastoral care should have a copy of the book to help them navigate the times of great joy and the times of deep sorrow that are part and parcel of community life. During her ministry, Brous has faced many challenging situations and reflects for example, on how she navigated the celebration of her son’s Bar Mitzva on a day following a particularly traumatic event in the life of another family in the community. Somehow she found a balance between acknowledging the family’s trauma while still allowing her son to celebrate an event for which, as a Rabbi’s son, he had been preparing all his life. Elsewhere she reflects on how one sits with the grief of a couple whose teenage children are killed in a car accident caused by a driver under the influence, and how over time that family were able to use their experience to reach out to others facing a similar loss. 

Throughout her ministry Brous has engaged her community – sharing her insights and learning from them. She has also learned the important lesson of caring for herself so that she is not drawing from an empty well. There is so much all of us can learn about the practice of faith from Brous and from her. community.

As the title suggests, Brous draws on a variety of ancient traditions, not only on her Jewish roots but of course her own tradition is what has fed and enlightened her through years of training and ministry. 

I am someone who is deeply moved by the wisdom of Jewish rabbis and in particular their approach to trauma and grief, and I have great respect for other religious traditions, but on reading the book I felt for the first time a sense of absence, the absence of the Holy Spirit in particular and of the Trinity in general.

The Trinity, while difficult for many of us to grasp, and even more difficult for us to put into words, expresses to me a fuller, rounder understanding of God, a God, who as Mike Morrell says is not alone but is community[1], and who, as community, draws us into relationship. For me, an understanding God who is integrally present through the Spirit and who is integrally part of human experience through Jesus is, to me, relatable, enlivening and welcoming and better still, gathers me into the Divine Dance of the three-person God. 

It is fascinating to think that our forebears, steeped in the Jewish faith, experienced the one God in such a new and a radical way. Long before our theologians had begun to come up with definitions and explanations of the Trinity, Paul, followed by the gospel writers, had begun to use language for God that incorporated what we now call the three persons of the Trinity. Take for instance this morning’s reading from Romans. Within just five verses Paul refers to God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Paul, who was born, lived and died a Jew, quite unselfconsciously uses God, Jesus and Holy Spirit interchangeably while at the same time not denying or negating a belief that there is only one God. Nor is this a one off, in Romans 8 God, Jesus (Lord/Son) and Spirit are again used as if they are one and the same. 2 Corinthians concludes: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.” Paul would have had no sense that he was abandoning the monotheism of his youth only that he had to find language to express his experience of God since Christ burst into his life.

Matthew’s gospel likewise references the Trinity when it concludes with what has become known as the great commission. Jesus tells the disciples to: “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” The association with what we now call Trinitarian language with baptism obviously existed in the church before the end of the first century and long before we began to put a name to and an explanation for the three-fold nature of the one God. 

And John who has consistently told the disciples that he and the Father are one, now. prepares his disciples for his departure by assuring them that the Spirit, who abides with the Father and the Son will be his continuing presence on earth. He makes no attempt to explain how God can be Father, Son and Spirit, he simply assumes that this language will speak to his reader’s experience of God. 

Of course, I do not know how I would relate to God had I not been brought up in a Christian family in a Christian environment. But, that being my experience, I rejoice in the three-fold God who is at the same time one, whose tri-fold nature embraces and holds me and whose different persons speak to different times and situations of my life.


[1] I’ve quoted this before but it is worth repeating.

ONE alone

      Is not by nature Love,

                  or Laugh,

                  or Sing

ONE alone

      may be prime mover,

                  Unknowable,

                  Indivisible,

                  All

And if Everything is All and All is One

       One is alone

       Self-Centred

                  Not Love

                  Not Laugh

                  Not Sing

TWO

      Ying/Yang 

       Dark/Light

        Male/Female

                  Contending  Dualism

                       Affirming Evil/Good

                       And striving toward Balance

      At best Face-to-Face

                  But never Community

THREE

    Face-to-Face-to-Face

                  Community

                  Ambiguity

                  Mystery

    Love for the Other

                  And for the Other’s Love

Within

      Other-Centred

       Self-giving

                  Loving

                  Singing

                  Laughter

                      A fourth is created

                           Ever-loved and loving.

(Forword to The Divine Dance: The Trinity and Your Transformation. Richard Rohr with Mike Morrell, USA: Whitaker House, 2016.)

Pentecost – not as orphans

June 9, 2025

Pentecost – 2025

John 14:8-27)

Marian Free

In the name of God who inflames, inspires and encourages us. Amen.

Hallelujah! not as orphans,

are we left in sorrow now;

Halleljah! He is near us, 

faith believes nor questions how;

So goes the second verse of the hymn: “Hallelujah! sing to Jesus.” For me, these words bring to mind fond memories of my church-going childhood. I’m not sure why but the words, “not as orphans”, really struck a chord in the young Marian. For some reason the notion of not being abandoned, not being left alone made a powerful impression.  The words had a similar effect to being gathered up in a warm embrace or wrapped in a soft blanket – God might be an amorphous and vague notion, but somehow the fact that God would not leave me orphaned gave God some sort of shape or form. I was also taken with the phrase “faith believes nor questions how.” I’d be quite sure that even then I didn’t think of faith as being blind acceptance of implausible ideas, but, young as I was I had some understanding of faith as mystery.

Of course, I had no idea in my childhood that the hymn writer was quoting the words from John 14 that we heard in this morning’s gospel. “I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you” (14:15).

Chapters 14 -17 of John’s gospel are known as Jesus’ farewell speech. Jesus has had what will be his final meal with his disciples, Judas has been sent off to “do what he is going to do” and Jesus has begun to prepare his disciples for his departure. We know that this means his crucifixion, but his disciples are confused and anxious, especially as Jesus continues his pattern of speaking in apparent riddles. “Where I am going you cannot come” (13:33). “I go to prepare a place for you.” “No one comes to the Father except through me.”

At least three key themes run through the Farewell Discourse and in our reading this morning. One is that of love. Jesus gives the disciples a new commandment – to love one another (13:34), those who love Jesus will keep his commandments (14:15),  those who have Jesus’ commandments are those who love him and are loved by the father (14:20) and those who love Jesus will keep his word, the Father will love them and with Jesus, will come and make a home with them (14:23). 

This expressions last draws on another thread – that of the indwelling of the Father and the Son – a mutual indwelling that is extended to each one of us, an indwelling that is supported by and held together through love and which is enhanced by the third member of the Trinity – the Holy Spirit, the third person of the Trinity whom Jesus will send to the disciples (the third theme). 

In the midst of their confusion and grief, Jesus assures the disciples of his ongoing presence with them – the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, the Spirit of truth who, with the Father and the Son will abide in those who love him. 

This concept of mutual indwelling is a very different picture of the Spirit from that presented by Luke in the Book of Acts in which the Spirit rushes upon the disciples from without. The writer of John’s gospel understands the Holy Spirit not so much as an external force that enlivens and empowers, but rather as a deep awareness of the presence of God within and a willingness to allow all one’s own desires and needs to be caught up within the Trinity[1] – God the Trinity in us and we in God. Jesus is one with God and God’s presence is made visible through Jesus, so we, through love, can be absorbed into the divine, and allow the divine in us to shine through us.

As Jesus continues speaking, we learn that the Jesus of John’s gospel is confident that those to whom he is speaking will  be able to let go of their egos and, being free of their egos will be open to the prompting of the Spirit who will remind them of all that Jesus has taught them and who will guide them into all truth (16:12). 

That Jesus’ confidence was misplaced has been demonstrated over and over again throughout the centuries. As the gospel spread and communities of believers formed, so different agendas, priorities and egos began to dominate what became the church. Instead of being one as Jesus prayed (17:22), believers have become fractured and divided into a multitude of communities at least some of whom claim exclusive possession of the truth.  Throughout the centuries the church has become side-tracked; worrying more about right and wrong, who is in and who is out, what is correct worship and what is not. The practice of self-denial has become a practice of going without physical things rather than a practice of denying the self so that the Spirit can direct and control our individual and collective lives. The idealism of John’s Jesus has been buried under human self-interest, a human need to have clear boundaries; rules and regulations rather than to trust in the Holy Spirit to guide us into all truth.

Jesus’ continued presence through the Holy Spirit does ensure that we are not left orphaned, but his hope that we would be one as he and the Father are one, his desire that we should experience the mutual indwelling with himself, the Father and the Spirit remains an unrealised dream.


[1] Of course, “Trinity” is not John’s language, but our attempt to explain the indwelling of Father, Son and Spirit.

Being one with God

May 31, 2025

Easter 7 – 2025

John 17:20-26

Marian Free

In the name of God in whom we live and breathe and have our being. Amen.

I love learning new words, so you can imagine how excited I was when, doing some reading to try to make sense of today’s gospel, I came across not one, but three new words! Sadly, unlike vituperative or egregious or vertiginous I’m unlikely to use these words in any other context. 

You will remember that three weeks ago I explained that John’s gospel is circular, layered, and repetitive. I failed to mention that the author of the fourth gospel is also very sparing with his vocabulary. John only needs 1011 words to tell the story of Jesus’ life. These words are repeated over and again (making it one of the easiest gospels to read in the original Greek). John’s limited vocabulary is deceiving. Many of the words have double meanings and where John uses different Greek words (for love and sheep in chapter 21) there is no intended difference in meaning. (Jesus wants to know that Peter loves him and will feed his sheep.)

The repetition of key words and themes makes the message of John relatively easy to understand. Jesus is light and life and his desire is to draw people to the light and give them life. That Jesus is one with God is made clear from the beginning and is emphasised in statements like “The Father and are one,” and “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father.” This relationship is also referred to as “abiding in” – a phrase that is repeated 40 times and is used not only for the Father and the Son,  but is extended to the disciples.

My new words for whom I thank Chelsea Harmon and Bruce Malina are “antilanguage”, “relexicalization” and “overlexicalization.”[1] Whether they were created to describe the phenomena found in John or whether they preexisted the literary study of same I did not try to find out, but they do help us to understand John’s use of language.

“Antilanguage” is an expression to describe the “in-language” of a particular group. This is language that is employed to make it clear that the group in question is distinct from the culture in which it finds itself. It serves the purpose of creating a sense of cohesion within the group and of keeping outsiders (among whom we belong out.

“Relexicalization” and “overlexicalization” are techniques used in antilanguage, understanding provides a key to understanding the code. 

“Relexicalization” (as the word implies) refers to using familiar words in a new way – giving them a meaning that is unique to the group. Perhaps the most obvious word in this category is the word “or glory. John uses  “δοξα” to mean the glory that is associated with God, and which therefore is present in Jesus and but also, paradoxically, uses it to refer to Jesus’ crucifixion – Jesus ‘victory over the devil. The Johannine Jesus also gives new meaning (spiritualises if you will) words like water, bread, light and life.

The concept of oneness as used by John is expressed in a variety of ways. In order to categorise this we need the expression: “overlexicalisation” – that is the use of a cluster or words or phrases to express the same concept. “Being one” is also expressed by “believing in/into” Jesus, “following Jesus”, “abiding in” him, “loving him”, “keeping his word”, “receiving’ him, “having” him or “seeing him”.  

Where does this academic approach to the gospel leave us? It is a reminder that not only are we separated by centuries from the origins of the gospel and of the community that it represents, but we are reassured that those aspects of the gospel that puzzle us, were intended to puzzle us. Those for whom the gospel was written, believed that they had special and unique insight into the teachings of Jesus and that those who didn’t share those insights – Jew or Christian – were destined to remain outsiders. If some things about the gospel are opaque to us, the gospel has succeeded. To that community we are the outsiders, those without the insights unique to the community. 

That said, these concepts of “antilanguage”, “relexicalisatiton” and “overlexicalisation” provide us with tools for understanding, give us a window into the gospel and help us to break down the barriers that were created to protect its and its community’s sense of uniqueness. 

Today’s gospel expresses Jesus’ hope that the disciples may have the same relationship with God that he has. This relationship revealed in glory and demonstrated in love and unity will convince the world that the believers are in God, and God is in them. John’s concept of a privileged and exclusive relationship is not one that we would want to adapt but this gospel informs us that Jesus reveals the union with God which is the purpose and privilege of all human existence. The oneness, the glory and the love that Jesus shares with the Father is freely given to each of us. 

The goal of faith as taught by the writer of John’s gospel is that we are to allow ourselves to be so subsumed by the presence of God within us and caught up in the unity of the Godhead that people who see us see God. If we are truly united to God the glory of God will shine through us and the love God has for us will be the love we have for one another.

In the words of Athanasius: God became human so that humans might become God. 

What do we have to relinquish in order that God’s glory and love might be known through us?


[1] https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/seventh-sunday-of-easter-3/commentary-on-john-1720-26-6

Do you want to be made well?

May 24, 2025

Easter 6 – 2025

John 5:1-9

Marian Free

In the name of Christ who came that we might have life and have it in abundance. Amen.

“Do you want to be made well?” The invalid in today’s gospel has been unwell for 38 years – an enormous amount of time in any century, but an extraordinary length of time in a period when the average life span was around 30 years! There is no indication how long the man actually enjoyed good health or what his problem was. Perhaps he was born with an unnamed frailty. Regardless, for 38 years the invalid has been dependent on others for his existence – for food, for clothing, for shelter, and as he says, for help to get him into the healing waters of the pool.

“Do you want to be made well?” In all the gospels no one else is asked such a rude and intrusive question. Often Jesus is asked for healing, or he simply assumes that someone wants to receive healing and there is no interaction at all. Jesus isn’t always directly involved. The woman with a haemorrhage merely reaches out and touches Jesus’ cloak and healing flows from him to her. Jesus never asks whether a person deserves healing or not nor does he demand that the person seeking healing has faith.  On the one occasion on which he might have withheld healing, he allows the Canaanite woman to convince him that her daughter is as worthy of healing as any other. 

“Do you want to be made well?” Of all the people waiting for the water to move, Jesus approaches this one man. He doesn’t ask about the man’s condition, doesn’t say who he is, doesn’t engage in small talk – just asks one direct question. “Do you want to be made well?” The answer would appear to be self-evident – of course someone whose life had been limited and marred by frailty would want to be made well.

“Do you want to be made well?” Instead of giving a resounding “yes”, the man becomes defensive. “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.” In other words, he is implying that his continued incapacity is everyone else’s fault but his own. Jesus is offering healing but what the invalid really wants is pity!

Jesus has touched a sore spot, forcing the man to ask himself what he really wants.  No doubt man thought that he had no choice, or maybe – at least subconsciously – he had understood that there were some advantages to being unwell. Thirty-eight years is a very long time, long enough for someone to get used to the situation, long enough to be resigned to this way of life, long enough to be unsure that an alternative way of life could be better. The man’s life may seem limited and impoverished from our point of view but that he was still alive after 38 years suggests that he was receiving sufficient support to live whether from his family or from strangers.

 If he were to be made well he would have to take responsibility for himself – find work and somewhere to live, he would be expected to marry, to have and support children of his own. He may have had no skills to earn a living or to reintegrate himself back into a society from which he has been absent for so long. He may have become used to the sympathy and attention that his condition afforded him and, in a world in which most people lived on or below the poverty line, begging may have been as good a way of earning a living as any other. In much the same way that a prisoner who has become used to prison – its routines, and the protection it offers – commits a crime in order to return, so our invalid appears to have become so used to his life that he can see no better way of living.

“Do you want to be made well?” “Are you living your best life?” “Are you making the best of your present circumstances?” “Are you using your God-given gifts to the best of your abilities?’

These are questions Jesus might be posing to any of us who have allowed ourselves to become so comfortable in our present situations that we see no need to change, to any of us who have turned down opportunities because we could not predict the consequences, or because we were worried about what we might have to leave behind, or to any of us who have drawn boundaries around ourselves that limit our growth and our experiences.

“Do you want to be made well?” Jesus wants us to live our best lives, to be and to do all that is possible with the gifts we have been given and the opportunities with which we have been provided.  He does not want us to be bound by people and things that do not need to be limitations.

“Do you want to be made well?” Jesus takes no notice of the invalid’s excuses. He can see the possibilities that await a man restored to health, to strength, to his family and his society. He can see, that despite the potential difficulties, the man’s life will be fuller, richer and happier if he stops making excuses, if he steps out in faith, if he believes that God does and will be with him. So, without waiting for an affirmative answer, he orders the man to: “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” Without hesitation, the man does just that.

“Do you want to be made well?” Do you trust that God knows your potential and has your well-being at heart?                                                       Stand up, take your mat and walk.

Revelation – a book for our times?

May 17, 2025

Easter 5 – 2025

Revelation 21:1-6

Marian Free

In the name of God in whose hands is our future and the future of the world. Amen.

Can you believe that nearly one quarter of the 21st. century has already passed? 24 ½ years ago the news was filled with stories of impending disasters, in particular that all the computers would crash and with them all of the infrastructure that they ran. Some people were busy building supplies of water and tinned food in preparation for the expected a destruction of the world. Others were predicting the sort of chaos depicted in The Book of Revelation – especially in relation to the release of Satan after 1,000 years of captivity.  (Indeed the 1000 years has taken on a meaning of its own, despite the fact that judgement did not rain down and the world was not destroyed at the beginning of the 11th century.)

The Book of Revelation is responsible for a great deal of fearmongering, predictions of dire judgement and the end of the world. Most of us can probably remember the anxiety that many people felt when the first credit cards were released – the three nested ‘b’s’ being taken for 666 –  the number of the beast in Revelation. 

Revelation or the Apocalypse of John is the most controversial and confusing book of the Bible. So controversial that it was not definitively included in our scriptures until the year 367 and even now many people choose to avoid it because it is so difficult.  Apart from these few weeks it has no part in our lectionary. The book is filled with fantastic images, lurid descriptions of God’s punishment and impenetrable symbolism. In other words, it seems to be completely incomprehensible and beyond rational belief. 

To some extent that is true, but it is also a book that to some extent is written in code and when one understands that code it becomes much easier to understand. In simple terms the Book describes a cosmic battle between good and evil, in which good is the victor. It is not intended to be a history, but it is based in a time and place and like prophetic literature. It is not intended as a prediction of what will happen in the future but rather a commentary on the current situation. Whereas prophetic literature warned about the consequences of continuing in the current (godless) course of action,  apocalyptic literature is designed to provide hope in situations in which the godly feel victimized and abandoned. 

Typically, apocalyptic theology arises at times when people are feeling the weight of oppression and injustice. It addresses the apparent flourishing of evil and assures the faithful that their persecutors will get their just desserts (while they, the faithful, will be rewarded for their suffering and endurance).

The Book of Revelation was written specifically for the seven churches addressed in the first few chapters. It appears that members of these churches were experiencing some sort of persecution, even martyrdom, but also that their initial enthusiasm for the faith was diminishing. While there was no wide-scale persecution at this time, believers were often isolated – from families, prevented from earning a living, and may have suffered some attacks from their neighbours and fellow citizens. The enduring power of Rome, its decadence and corruption will have been a source of angst and confusion to believers and on top of this there may have been a very real danger of war as armies gathered in the east.

In this climate, the author of Revelation writes to encourage and reassure the faithful and to warn the backsliders. John insists that God is on the side of believers and that good will win in the end. Consistent with other apocalyptic writings, the author also describes in great detail what God will do to backsliders or to those who oppose God and who persecute or oppress the faithful. This does not mean that all who do not believe will be destroyed. Revelation is a call to repentance – the threatened destruction will not affect those who return to God.

While the book appears to be totally chaotic, various commentators have pointed out that the book is extraordinarily well-structured. Michael Fallon[1] for example demonstrates that the Book is divided into seven scenes, the first five of which are bordered by descriptions of heaven.  Schüssler Fiorenza argues that the Book follows a concentric pattern around a central core. Both understand chapter 10 a fulcrum, it looks back to themes mentioned earlier in the book (things which are hidden) and forward to the end (things which are exposed). 

As I have mentioned, Revelation is filled with symbolism and patterns, which make more sense if one understands the code. For example, there are seven letters, each of which follow a similar pattern and include a reference to description of the Son of Man with which the Book begins. In each there is a greeting, a reference to the description of Jesus, a commendation, a rebuke, a call to repentance or a warning, a prophetic saying, a promise of Christ’s speedy coming, an exhortation to hold fast, a call to listen and finally promise to the broader community that those who conquer will be rewarded. The letters are followed by four sets of seven plagues which again follow a pattern – persecution, judgement and victory.

That the book is not meant to be taken literally is evidenced by the seven plagues – each of which threatens to destroy the whole world. The repetition is simply for effect – it is impossible to destroy the world once it has been destroyed. Another clue that the book is not literal is the future reference to the birth of Jesus in chapter 12. Readers of the book would understand that Jesus had already been born.

Which brings me briefly to today’s reading. Revelation ends as it begins with Jesus as the first and the last, the Alpha and Omega. Before that the recipients are assured that not only will God triumph in the end, but that all things will be renewed and that those who hold firm will see an end to sorrow, pain and dying, and that God, who has never abandoned them will wipe their tears from their eyes.

The message of Revelation is that no matter how bad things are, no matter how much suffering we might endure, God will be the victor, and God will restore all things and will bring us to Godself. 

Understood properly, The Book of Revelation is not an archaic, incomprehensible, irrelevant piece of scripture but a message for our own turbulent times.

*************************

NOTES

Some code breakers.

The use of numbers. Seven as you know is the number for perfection (seven days of the week) and by contrast 31/2 (42 months) is the number for imperfection. There were twelve tribes of Israel and 12 Apostles. Twelve is the number for completeness. Four relates to the four. Corners of the world and the four elements, it relates to totality.  There are seven churches, seven letters, seven plagues, the Lamb has 7 horns and 7 eyes and there are seven spirits. The number admitted to heaven – 144000 12x12x1000 – is symbolic not literal. The four sets of seven plagues implies total destruction. The four faced creatures – lion, ox, human and eagle -represent the noblest, the strongest, the wisest and the swiftest. 666, the number which to some holds so much weight, is the number represented by the Hebrew spelling of Nero. (There was a popular belief that Nero would be resurrected and wreak terror on the land.)

Colours are also significant – gold signifies divinity, white – purity, red-war, black- plague and pale green-death.

Structure

A 1:1-8 Prologue and Epistolary Greeting

                  1:1-3 Title

                  1:4-6 Greetings

                  1:7-8 Motto

B 1:9-3:22 Rhetorical Situation in the Cities of Asia Minor

                  1:9-10 Author and Situation

                  1:11-20 Prophetic Inaugural Vision

I                 1:1-3:22 Prophetic message to seven communities

C 4:1-9:21, 11:15-19 Opening the Sealed Scroll

                  4:1-5:14 Heavenly Court and the sealed scroll

II               6:1-8:1 Cosmic Plagues – Seven Seals

III              8:2-9:21; 11:15-19 Cosmic Plagues – Seven Trumpets

D 10:1-15:4 The Bitter-sweet Scroll: “War against the community”

                  10:1-11:14 Prophetic commissioning

                  12:1-14:5 Prophetic interpretation

                  14:6-15:4 Eschatological liberation

C’ 15:5-19:10 Exodus from the Oppression of Babylon/Rome

IV             15:5- 16:21 Cosmic plagues – seven bowls

                  17:1-18 Rome and its Power

                  18:1-19:10 Judgement of Rome

B’ 19:11-22:9 Liberation from Evil and God’s World-City

                  19:11-20:15 Liberation from the powers of evil

                  21:1-8 The liberated world of God

                  21:9-22:9 The different cosmopolis of God

A’ 22:10-21 Epilogue and Epistolary Frame

                  22:1-7 Revelatory Sayings

                  22:8-21 Epistolary Conclusion[2]

a. Introduction                                                                      1:1-3

b. Opening liturgical dialogue                                 1:4-8

c. Prophetic commission                                            1:9-11

                  Heaven

Scene 1 Letters to the 7 churches                      2:1-3:22

                  Heaven                                                                       4:1-5:14

Scene 2 Six seals are broken                                                     6:1-7:9

                  Heaven                                                                       7:9-8:6                  

Scene 3 The sounding of six trumpets            8:7-11:14

                  Heaven                                                                       11:15-12:12

Scene 4 Forces for good and for evil                 12:13-14:20

                  Heaven                                                                       15:1-8

Scene 5 The seven bowls                                            16:1-18:24

                  Heaven                                                                       19:1-10

Scene 6 The final struggle, victory                      19:11-20:15

                  and judgement                                 

Scene 7 The Church of God on earth                21:1-22:5

                  a. guarantee of prophecy                          22:6-7

                  b. Concluding liturgical dialogue       22:8-17

                  c. Conclusion                                                       22:18-21


[1] Fallon, Michael. The Apocalypse: A Revelation that History is Graced. Sydney: Parish Ministry Publications, 1990.

[2] Schussler-Fiorenza, Elisabeth. Revelation: Vision of a Just World. Minneapolis:Fortress Press, 1991, 35-36.

Divisive Shepherd

May 13, 2025

Easter 4 – 2025

John 10:22-30

Marian Free

In the name of God, mysterious, unknowable, unreachable and yet revealed in Jesus. Amen.

Our post Easter season is typically divided into two parts, post resurrection accounts of meetings with Jesus and the promise of the spirit. In the middle, on the fourth Sunday of Easter we mark Good Shepherd Sunday. Over the course of three years, we cover most of John chapter 10 in which Jesus spells out what it means to be shepherd and sheep. The imagery is deceptively simple and heart-warming. I suspect that most of us have been brought up with lovely stories of 1st century Middle Eastern shepherds often accompanied by illustrations of Jesus carrying a white fluffy lamb over his shoulder. 

I say deceptively simple because this chapter, like the rest of John’s gospel, is complex and multi-layered. It is filled with themes and illusions that permeate the gospel and has hidden depths which are easy to overlook if we focus on the superficial imagery of the shepherd. 

John’s gospel stands alone in style and content.  It seems to stir within us something deep and mysterious. It is filled with images that are not always fully spelled out, it demands a knowledge of Judaism that can no longer be taken for granted, it is repetitive and circular as if wanting to be sure that the reader really understands, and yet at the same time it speaks in riddles as if to cloud the meaning from all but a few.

Chapter 10 and the verses we have read this morning serve as a case in point. The content is repetitive, and indirect and it repeats and reinforces themes already referenced in the gospel. The author also assumes a knowledge of Jewish festivals and an insight into his purpose in referencing them.  

The repetitive and circular nature of the gospel is evident in the ways in which the central theme of shepherd is drawn out. The shepherd is compared variously to a thief, a stranger of a hired hand, those who came before him, and even a gate. Jesus is the Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for the sheep and who will ensure that they have abundant life. Other themes such as life, doing the works of the Father and being one with the Father are peppered throughout the gospel and the theme of Jesus’ voice recurs in Magdalene’s recognition of Jesus’ in the garden.

“At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem”.  What appears to us to be a reference to a time and place has a much deeper significance for the author of this gospel. From this and other references to the Temple and Jewish festivals, we can discern that indirectly John is making the claim that in the person of Jesus all the Jewish Festivals have Jewish festivals have come to their full end – their purposes have been fulfilled. Jesus has made them redundant. 

As the Bread from heaven Jesus replaces the manna in the wilderness, as the light of the world and the living water, Jesus takes the place of the symbols of the Feast of Tabernacles. [That Jesus is crucified on the eve of Passover, suggests that he has replaced the Passover Lamb. Even the Sabbath is replaced as Jesus’ heals on the Sabbath and thus redefines its meaning and purpose.] The Festival of Dedication celebrated the rededication of the Temple. John’s reference here is less a reference to the season and more an indication that Jesus has replaced the Temple. In all these not-so-subtle ways, John is making it clear that worship of the one God can continue without Temple and the Temple rituals – that faith in and worship of Jesus has taken their place.

John’s Jesus can be obtuse and frustrating. His answers to direct questions are often riddles, designed to make one think if not to confuse. Think of his response to Nicodemus – “you must be born from above” and today, when his questioners ask him to tell them plainly, he irritatingly replies: “I have told you and you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep.” Hardly a helpful response from people who seem to genuinely want to know who he is. It is as if he wants to push them away not draw them in.

The question of Jesus’ identity is another key theme in John’s gospel. While on the one hand John’s Jesus refuses to be specific about his identity, on the other, the author  makes it very clear to the readers who he is. “The Father and I are one,” Jesus says. Over and over again, the fourth gospel makes this same claim. “If you have seen me you have seen the Father.” “I and the Father are one.” [With one exception in Matthew, nowhere else are the Father and Son presented as a unity.]

The Shepherding imagery is an extension of Jesus’ identification with God. The imagery of God as shepherd has its roots n the Old Testament – especially in the Psalms and Ezekiel 34.

Another theme, introduced here and developed in the imagery of the vine is that of belonging. Those who know Jesus’ voice will follow him. (10:4), those who belong to the fold will listen to Jesus’ voice (10:16) and “his sheep know his voice” (10:27). John’s gospel can be read as divisive and exclusive. The dualism expressed therein – light/dark, life/perishing, flesh/spirit, above/below those who know/do not know my voice – can be read in the sense that despite the claim that God loves the world, God seems to want to separate those who are in from those who are out, worse, that we can establish boundaries to determine whom to include and whom to exclude. The opposite in fact is true. While John’s gospel does make a clear distinction between those who follow Jesus and those who do not, it also makes it clear that those who do not belong are those who choose not to belong those who self-select to be outside the fold, those whose reaction to Jesus reveals something of their true nature, those who cannot bear to be exposed to the light (3:21).

All of this is a stark reminder that we should not be content with the comforting, the heart-warming, superficial shepherding Jesus, nor should we be complacent about John’s divisive, exclusionary language. John’s gospel reveals that there is time and space before Jesus and a time and space after Jesus. There is a plain-speaking Jesus who is comforting and inclusive and an indirect Jesus who will not give us easy answers to those too lazy to see what is in front of them. There is the divisive Jesus in whose presence we see who we are and are forced to make the decision as to whether or not we belong and whether or not we want to belong. 

Our reaction to Jesus determines whether or not we belong.

Do you love me?

May 3, 2025

Easter 3 – 2025

John 21:1-19

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who meets us where we are and asks only that we love in return.  Amen.

I have just finished reading an extraordinary book, A Terrible Kindness, by Jo Browning Wroe. It tells the tale of one William Lavery who is the son of a funeral director and who is gifted with a beautiful voice. William’s father dies when he is quite young, and his mother reacts by withdrawing from his father’s brother who is his partner in the funeral business. William receives a place in a choral school in Cambridge where he meets the exuberant Martin with whom he becomes firm friends. On the night when William is due to sing The Misère – what would have been the high point of his time in Cambridge -something awful happens and he cannot sing. He blames his mother, leaves the college, forswears singing, moves in with his uncle, and, as soon as he is old enough he trains to be an embalmer.

 

In Aberfan, Wales, a colliery spoil tip collapsed swallowing up homes and the local school. One hundred and forty people died including 116 children. In the novel, William, who has just completed his training, volunteers to prepare the dead for their funerals. Wroe describes this event with great sensitivity and also its impact on her fictional character William who is deeply traumatised by the sight of so many small, crushed bodies and determines never to have children. His girlfriend, Gloria insists that she will marry him even with that caveat.

 

The early death of his father, his mother’s coolness towards his uncle, an awkward moment with Martin, and the tragedy at Aberfan lead William to make a number of disastrous choices – he cuts off his mother, turns his back on Martin, gives up his love of choral music and finally leaves Gloria who has been steadfast in her love, her understanding and support.

 

What is extraordinary, and what I didn’t fully notice until I had finished reading the book was the unconditional love that William received from all the other characters. His abandoned mother leaves the door open for a reunion, his uncle and partner take him in and never chide him for his hardness of heart, Martin (who is deeply hurt by William’s betrayal and desertion) doesn’t reproach him when they meet again years later, and Gloria allows William back into her life when he comes to his senses. Unlike William, not one of the characters has built up a grudge that would prevent them from welcoming him back into their lives.

 

As I say, the author does labour this point, it is just how she tells the story, but when I read this morning’s gospel it seemed to me that deliberately or not, she had drawn a compelling account of unconditional love, much like the love Jesus extends to Peter in this morning’s gospel.

 

If you remember, Peter who had been adamant that he would not abandon Jesus, even that he would lay down his life for Jesus (Jn 13:17), not only abandoned him to face Pilate alone, but denied three times that he even knew him. In this, the last of John’s resurrection appearances, Jesus prepares breakfast for his friends – all of whom had vanished into the night when he was arrested. After the resurrection the disciples who were at a loose end, decided to go fishing. When they were returning to shore empty handed the Beloved Disciple recognised Jesus on the beach. Immediately Peter leapt out of the boat and waded to shore. He was delighted to see Jesus and is obviously confident that Jesus was not holding his failures against him.

 

Indeed Jesus, who has already appeared to the disciples, shows no indication that he in any way holds them accountable for their desertion, nor Peter for his denial. What Jesus does, is to enable Peter to affirm his love for Jesus. Much has been made of the three questions and the use of different Greek words for love[1] but what seems to be key here is that Jesus is giving primacy to relationship over cowardice. Jesus understands human frailty and his prediction of Peter’s denials demonstrate how well he knew his disciples. In this, his final act, Jesus doesn’t ask Peter to repent, he doesn’t try to make Peter accountable, and he certainly doesn’t withdraw from Peter his unconditional love. What Jesus does do, is to remind Peter of Peter’s love for Jesus. Instead of breaking the relationship, Jesus asks Peter to remember the relationship – a relationship which, from Jesus’ side is constant and unbreakable.

 

As in the novel, William comes to his senses and returns to bask in the love of those on whom he has turned his back, so Peter is fully brought back to himself by having to remind himself three times that (despite his denials) he does love Jesus.

 

Our gospel accounts of the life of Jesus finish with this extraordinary reminder – that we are loved by God wholeheartedly, unconditionally and endlessly, and that no matter what we do, or how far we stray, we will still be loved, if only we can recall how much we love God. God created us for love therefore we are loveable and who are we to de y ourselves or anyone else of that love? God’s love does not demand that we are flawless, it leaves no room for self-reproach, and draws from us the love God seeks in return.

 

“Do you love me?” “Yes, Lord I do.”

 

 

 


[1] Michael Lattke, my Phd supervisor argues that there is no deeper meaning to the use of different words.