Swallowsrest

Epiphany 4, 2011

1 Corinthians 1:10-31 (Matthew 5:1-12)

Marian Free

In the name of God who is never as we expect but who constantly surprises and challenges us.  Amen.

Many people say that they find Paul’s letters difficult to understand. I am not one of them. It is my firm conviction Paul enriches and enlivens our understanding of the gospel and that without Paul’s contribution to the understanding of the gospel, our faith would flounder on the legalism Jesus tried to confront.  Though Paul doesn’t write a theological textbook, he takes the story and teaching of Jesus and without doing it any injustice interprets it in such a way that we more clearly understand the free gift of God’s grace, the power of the Spirit and the gospel of freedom. The Apostle Paul is one of the most impressive and formative characters of the formation of the Christian faith. Not only do his letters give us a window into the emerging church, but the writings attributed to him combined with the information about him in the book of Acts make up one third of the New Testament.

Paul came to faith through an experience of the risen Christ to which he refers in Galatians. This experience leaves him firmly convinced that Christ has revealed the gospel directly to him. As a result of this experience, Paul not only behaves with the passion of a convert, but he believes that the gospel revealed to him is the only true gospel. For this reason, Paul uses every method at his command to convince his congregations of the truth gospel as it had been revealed to him and he struggled vigorously to win them back when others confused or influenced them.

Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing what Paul actually taught his congregations. His letters were written, not to expound particular theological ideas, but to address specific situations in the communities which he had founded. When he wrote to the Galatians, it is because he was furious that they had turned away from the gospel of freedom, to be bound again by the law. His letter to Rome was written as a letter of introduction and also to clarify misconceptions that the Roman community might have had about his teaching. Some scholars think it is possibly to read back through the conflict to discover what Paul originally taught, but this must in part, be based on guesswork and speculation. The letters have to be read with some care. It is important to distinguish between Paul’s voice and what he might be quoting back to the members of his communities. We also have to be aware that Paul is not above using sarcasm and that he uses rhetorical techniques to great effect.

The letter to the Corinthians was written to address a community in crisis. Paul knows of the crisis from two sources. He has received a report from Chloe’s people and the Corinthians have written to Paul in order to clarify a number of issues which are causing concern. The former have to do with divisions within the community and the latter with issues related to the body – sex and marriage, food laws and the resurrection. In Paul’s absence the Corinthians have become a divided (even stratified) community. They were divided by their loyalty to  different teachers, they took one another to court, they discriminated against those who are poor and competed with each other on the basis of their spiritual gifts. On top of this they were arrogant and self assured. According to their own definition they considered themselves to be wise, to be spiritually rich – even perfect.

It is clear from the letter, that the Corinthians completely misunderstood what Paul’s had taught. They have interpreted the freedom of the gospel as an invitation to immorality, rather than freedom to be led by the Spirit (which does not lead to immorality. They believed that having been justified by faith, they did not need to fear a future judgement and that being spiritual they did not have to be concerned with the actions of the body. Paul reminded them firmly that their body is a temple of the Holy Spirit and that they would be made accountable in the future for their behaviour in the present.

In the first chapter, Paul confronts the arrogance and self-assurance of the Corinthians by reminding them that the crucified Christ is at the centre of the gospel that he preached. He reminds them that Christ himself did not seek power or glory but accepted the shame and humiliation of the cross. Even though the idea of a crucified Lord was to the world a notion that was utterly unbelievable and unacceptable – a scandal for the Jews and foolishness to the Greeks – this was the gospel that Paul taught in Corinth.  Paul was clear in his own mind that the very weakness of the cross was what gave it its power.

As an illustration of the power that is found in weakness, Paul reminds the Corinthians of how he brought the gospel to them. By his own admission, Paul was not a powerful speaker, nor was his physical presence commanding or authoritative. He himself did not exhibit the eloquent wisdom which the Corinthians now highly prized. Paul claims that because he was weak, the Corinthians could be assured that it was not Paul, but the gospel itself which convinced them. Because Paul was weak God was able to speak through him. It Because Paul had completely submitted his will to that of God, Christ could be known through him. Because Paul had figuratively allowed his own needs for self-agrandisement and recognition to be crucified with Christ the Spirit could work through Paul to convince the Corinthians of the truth of the gospel. Paul’s weakness and lack of eloquence are ample proof that it was not his presence or speech which convinced the Corinthians but the message of the gospel being proclaimed through him.

Paul did not meet the earthly Jesus. This meant that all that he knew of Jesus’ teaching came directly from the risen Christ or through the teaching of others. Today’s gospel demonstrates that despite coming late to faith Paul clearly understood the kernel of the gospel Jesus’ preached. Paul comprehended that Jesus’ life and teaching challenged the conventional understanding of the world, confronted the status quo and turned upside down the accepted view of reality. If poverty and grief are blessings in the new order, then those who believe are forced to reconsider everything they think they know or understand. More importantly, they are compelled to realize that their own understanding is so limited, and so restricted that they have no grounds for boasting.

The cross throws into sharp relief the false values and expectations of the world. It shatters our arrogance and self assurance by demonstrating that God is utterly beyond our comprehension. The cross is so shocking, so beyond anything we could imagine that we are forced to acknowledge with Paul that “God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength” and in turn to recognise our own limitations.

“The message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.” Let us nail to the cross our false pride, our independence and selfishness and knowing that when we are weak we are strong and when we are foolish we are wise, because it is only when we acknowledge our weakness and our foolishness that we allow the Spirit of God to work in and through us.

Epiphany 3. 2011

Matthew 4:12-25

Marian Free

In the name of God, whose ways are not our ways and whose thoughts are not our thoughts. Amen.

Today’s gospel consists of what appear to be three distinct episodes. First of all, we are told that Jesus departs to Galilee in accordance with prophecy and it is here that he begins his ministry: the proclamation of the good news of the kingdom.  Then there is the account of the calling of Simon and Andrew, James and John. Lastly, Jesus begins teaching and preaching in earnest  – though we do not hear the content until the succeeding section of the gospel. In this way, the th author of Matthew’s skillfully creates a bridge between Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness and his public ministry.

John’s imprisonment sets the scene. It signals the end of John’s ministry and opens the way for that of Jesus. Jesus returns to Galilee where the majority of his ministry will take place – in the country not in the centre of Judaism in Jerusalem.  Galilee is the central character of these few verses – Jesus comes back to Galilee, finds his first disciples by the Sea of Galilee and crowds flock to him from Galilee.  The majority of Jesus’ ministry is carried out in Galilee, which, for Matthew, is the fulfillment of prophecy.

The prophecy serves a secondary purpose for the author of the gospel in that “Galilee of the Gentiles” alludes to the future of the movement that follows Jesus and which will include those who are not Jews – this, despite Jesus’ injunction that the disciples go only to the lost sheep of Israel. Galilee was not in fact, a Gentile region any more than the cosmopolitan Jerusalem, but Matthew uses the prophecy to open the door to the future mission to the Gentiles. In fact, the whole of Jesus’ ministry is framed both by Jesus’ presence in Galilee and the inclusion of the Gentiles, for in Matthew 28, before his ascension into heaven, Jesus’ commissions his followers to “go and make disciples of all nations”. In the meantime, during Jesus’ life, the priority is Israel.

Having established the scene, Matthew moves on to Jesus’ ministry. His first step is to choose disciples. In terms of Jewish tradition this is an extraordinary turn of events – it is customary for disciples choose their master and not the other way around. It is equally unusual for a teacher to share his role with those whom he teachers. But, as we know, Jesus is no ordinary teacher and he will choose his own disciples – people to share with him the ministry to which he has been commissioned.

Walking by the Sea, Jesus comes across two sets of brothers. Andrew and Simon (who is identified as the Peter whom the listeners know) and then James and John abandon their livelihoods and their responsibilities in order to follow Jesus. Andrew and Simon do not even bring in their nets, let alone bring them to shore to be cleaned. James and John leave their earthly father and follow Jesus.

In this very bald and simple way, Matthew reveals two aspects of discipleship.  1. Those who follow Jesus will fish for people – gather those who believe into the faith. 2. For followers of Jesus, family relationships will be changed and re-defined as following Jesus takes priority in their lives. (It is possible that here too there is an allusion to the break with the synagogue that has taken place by the time of Matthew’s writing. Following Jesus has meant being excluded from the practice of the faith of their fathers.)

In the final verses of today’s gospel, Matthew introduces the theme of the following section: Jesus’ teaching and preaching – though in fact here, we learn more about Jesus’ healing ministry and of the crowds which are drawn to Jesus as a result.  These are the crowds who will form the audience for Jesus’ teaching

which begins in earnest in the Sermon on the Mount. The proclamation of the kingdom with which this section began is central to Jesus’ teaching. “He went throughout Galilee proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.” (The exact same language is used to conclude this section and to introduce the commissioning of the disciples at the end of chapter 9.)

The author of Matthew’s gospel achieves a great deal in these eleven verses. He establishes the break between Jesus and John while at the same time indicating their common fate – just as John was handed over, so too will Jesus be handed over. He provides a justification for Jesus’ ministry being largely confined to Galilee and opens a door for the mission to the Gentiles.  The content of Jesus’ preaching is made known and Matthew alludes to the charismatic power of Jesus which can induce complete strangers to abandon everything and follow him. Something of the nature of discipleship is revealed and finally Matthew provides the platform for Jesus’ first discourse – known to us as the Sermon on the Mount.

In a culture in which few could read for themselves, the gospels were written to be read aloud and publicly. For that reason, the authors employed a variety of techniques to ensure that their message would get through. They constructed their accounts in such a way as to gain maximum retention and understanding by those who were listening.  Scripture is used directly and indirectly, material is gathered together in order to have the greatest impact, patterns are employed to assist the hearer to remember, themes are developed and repeated and so on.

When we read or listen to scripture we should bear in mind that the author’s intention is not simply to tell a story, or to produce an account of Jesus’ life that is 100% historically accurate. The author’s intention was to write in such a way as to bring about faith and to challenge the listeners to respond to Jesus as did the early disciples.

That the few verses of today’s gospel can contain so much detail should be a reminder to us that while our gospels can be taken at face value, they are also full of subtle allusions and complexities the knowledge of which can deepen and enrich our understanding of our faith. The depth of meaning in this small section of the gospel is a warning to us not to reduce our faith to simple stories and equally simple formula, but to retain an open mind to all the possibilities that a text might include. If ever we think that we know all that there is to know, not only have we stopped growing, we have also closed our minds to future revelation and shut ourselves off from the presence of God who is ultimately beyond our understanding.

The story of Jesus is more than can be contained in any number of books, and has a meaning deeper than any number of words can express yet we can, like the disciples, be drawn into his presence, be compelled to follow at his command and commissioned to minister in his name. Let us pray for that openness of heart and mind that enables us to be ready to respond to his call and for that sense of expectancy which allows us recognise his presence in our lives.

Flooded street

Flooded street

January 16, 2011

Psalm 40

Marian Free

In the name of God who raises the dead to life. Amen.

Over the past fortnight, we have been bombarded with images of an unprecedented disaster. For most of us it is impossible to comprehend.

I imagine that many of us today are suffering from information overload and compassion overload. It is impossible for most of us to grasp the extent of the devastation and the fact that the catastrophe is continuing in other parts of the state and else where in Australia makes it even harder to come to terms with what is happening.

Just has it has been horrendous to watch the unfolding horror of the last week, so it has been amazing to see the countless acts of selflessness and generosity, the resilience and strength of those who have suffered, the care and efficiency of our Premier, our Prime Minister and Lord Mayor, the courage and endurance of our Police, our Emergency Services and our Defense Force as they have responded to the unfolding drama and have put into place both evacuation and recovery plans.

This disaster is absolutely unimaginable and the recovery will be a long, slow haul both individually and collectively.

However desolate the present and however uncertain the future, it is important to remember that we are people of the resurrection. We know that no matter how the bleak present looks there will be a new tomorrow. As people who believe in the incarnation, we know that God stands beside us in our darkest moments giving us hope, encouragement and the will to face tomorrow.

Let us take some time in silence to give thanks for those who have got us through and will continue to get us through this disaster

to remember before God those who have suffered unbearable loss and all those whose homes, livelihoods,  businesses and incomes have been affected by the floods.

To commit to the care of God all who have lost their lives.

Let us also take time to remember that we are disciples of Christ and consider how, in these present circumstances we may show whose we are – through our love, our confidence in God’s presence and through our generosity and our care for others.

Will you say after me Psalm 40 which seems particularly appropriate as so many of our brothers and sisters throughout the nation try to pull their lives and possessions out of the bog that their homes and businesses have become:

Psalm 40:1-5

1 I waited patiently for the Lord;

he inclined to me and heard my cry.

2 He drew me up from the desolate pit,*

out of the miry bog,

and set my feet upon a rock,

making my steps secure.

3 He put a new song in my mouth,

a song of praise to our God.

Many will see and fear,

and put their trust in the Lord.

4 Happy are those who make
the Lord their trust,

who do not turn to the proud,

to those who go astray after false gods.

5 You have multiplied, O Lord my God,

your wondrous deeds

and your thoughts towards us;

none can compare with you.

Were I to proclaim and tell of them,

they would be more than can be counted.

Baptism of Jesus – 2011

Matthew 3:13-17

Marian Free

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

When parents bring their children for baptism, one of the questions I ask is: “Why are you seeking baptism for your child?” I assure them that there are no wrong answers and that their answer helps me to understand why they are here. For that reason, I receive a variety of responses. Some are honest enough to say that they are doing it for Grandma and others have a very genuine desire that their child be initiated into the Christian faith. By far the largest number say that they believe that it is the right thing to do, that they have been baptized and that they would like their child to be baptized.

In what has until recently been a Christian nation, baptism is something that many people seek for their child as a matter of course. Our Christian tradition has allowed us to assume that everyone is a Christian and therefore they and their children are entitled to membership. In the past, the church has actively encouraged baptism with threats of hell for the un-baptised. At the same time baptism was a means of claiming people for one’s faith and even one’s denomination and ensuring that the opposition didn’t get there first.

In my life-time attitudes have changed and debates have raged with regard to the baptism of children, especially the baptism of children of families who are not regular church attenders. This has led to confusion and hurt on the one hand and a more serious approach to baptism on the other.

Baptism is an adult commitment to faith. In baptism a person promises to turn aside from their former life, they affirm that they: turn to Christ, repent of their sins, reject selfish living and all that is false and unjust and to renounce Satan and all evil. They also promise to love God with their whole heart and to love their neighbours as themselves. In front of those present they assent to the Creed stating that they believe in God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Of course, an infant or child cannot understand, let alone assent to such statements, which is why we nominate Godparents – adults who are prepared to make these promises and commitments on behalf of the child and who promise to ensure that the child is raised in the Christian faith.

We cannot be sure when the practice of baptism began, but John’s baptism indicates that baptism was a ritual well known to the Jews, otherwise they would not have flocked to the river Jordan to seek John’s baptism. The verb “baptizo” simply means: “to dip or immerse”. Evidence from archaeological digs coupled with evidence found in the New Testament confirms that ritual washing as a form of purification was an important aspect of Judaism. Whether or not baptism was associated with initiation or conversion is less clear. The baptism of John was a baptism for repentance of sins. John the Baptist was confronting what he perceived as the corruption of Judaism and was urging his fellow countrymen and women to turn their lives around and to restore their relationship with God.

It is this emphasis on repentance which makes Jesus’ baptism such an embarrassment for the author of Matthew’s gosple. Only in Matthew’s gospel does John say: ‘I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?’ John perceives that Jesus has no need to repent, and tries to dissuade him from baptism. The writer of Matthew overcomes this embarrassment by associating Jesus’ baptism with a requirement in the law.  It is entirely consistent for Matthew to demonstrate that Christianity is consistent with and flows out of Judaism.  Jesus’ willingness to submit to John’s baptism illustrates his commitment to the law of his fathers.

In the wider context of the gospel, Jesus’ baptism by John is much more than a submission to the law. It reveals who Jesus is (both human and divine) and what he is to do (to serve). Further it foreshadows what is to come (Jesus’ submission to the cross). In his baptism, Jesus enters fully into the human experience by identifying himself with the sinfulness and frailty of humankind. As he rises from the water the voice from heaven affirms him as the Son of God and alludes to what this means.  Jesus is not going to fulfill the most common expectation for God’s anointed. The language of the voice from heaven recalls Isaiah 42 – “my chosen the one in whom I delight, I have put my spirit upon him”. This alerts the listeners to what follows in that chapter. Jesus will not be the conquering hero, but the suffering servant of Isaiah, who by identifying with humankind, will bring an end – not to Roman occupation per se but to human suffering in general.

At his baptism, Jesus identified completely with the human condition – accepting for himself its sinfulness. At our baptism the reverse happens – we identify with Jesus in his death and resurrection. We die to sin and rise to newness of life. Like Jesus, in baptism we receive the gift of the Holy Spirit and our divinity is acknowledged. The language of baptism makes clear our change of status – we move from death to life, from darkness to light.

Our task is to ensure that the language of our baptism becomes a reality in our lives. Our baptism is of no value unless we claim the gifts it bestows and allow the Spirit to grow in us. Our Christian journey is one of continual dying and rising, leaving behind the old nature and growing into the new, until at last we are formed in the image of Christ. The gift of the Spirit is of little use if it is left dormant, hidden amongst a pile of distractions or buried under a load of cares. It is our responsibility to nurture and encourage the gift that we have received at our baptism and to allow our divinity to grow and develop. As members of this church, our challenge to seek ways in which we can nurture and encourage God’s gifts in all those who are baptised in this church.

In his baptism Jesus identified completely with our frail humanity, may our baptism be a reminder to us that we are called to share in his divinity.

Into the unknown

Epiphany 2011

Matthew 2:1-11

Marian Free

In the name of God in whom our hearts are restless until they find their rest in you. Amen.

David Jenkins, formerly Bishop of Durham, gave a series of lectures in the late sixties on the nature of Jesus and the nature of humanity. In setting the scene he says in part: “The act of faith is not consciously or explicitly a Christian one. It simply involves a readiness to believe that there are areas of human experience and avenues of human knowing which are worth exploring with openness, perseverance and hope.  We do not have to know in advance what we have to be open to, nor what we are persevering for, nor what we have hope of. But we have to believe that openness, perseverance and hope are proper and, indeed, demanding possibilities for human beings and we have to act on this belief. Such action will demand patience.  We shall have to be patient in pursuing investigations far enough to allow the course of the investigation to disclose whether or not it is fruitful.”[1]

Too often the word “faith”, especially in the religious context, has been employed to suggest unquestioning belief in something that is otherwise unbelievable or irrational. When a person doesn’t understand something – in particular with regard to religious belief, they are often told that they must simply take it on faith. Such a presumption has the dual effect of dismissing as unimportant a person’s inquiry or concern and also of denying, and ultimately destroying, the curiosity which gave rise to the question. It assumes that the journey’s end is fixed and constant and that one can get there only with closed eyes and mind shut.

It is true that there is a great deal within the realm of Christian belief which is, at first glance, incomprehensible and that there are some things which we take as truths or which we believe to be true on the basis of experience or on the testimony of others. That does not mean that, as a matter of faith, we should put to one side all manner of inquiry, for faith that does not retain an openness to possibility is not faith at all. “Faith” which assumes the status of certainty is no longer faith, but a stagnant confidence in a state of affairs created entirely by human imagination.

The idea of faith as exploration is a useful one. Faith is not an end in itself, it is a means to an end and even the end is vague and un-definable. The end of faith is not able to be neatly packaged and defined but remains a mystery to be discovered and unfolded. In faith, we approach our goal not knowing what it really is, but trusting that we will discover what we seek when finally we reach our journey’s end.

Faith then is not an end but a beginning. It derives from a sense that there is something more to life than what we see around us. It emerges from dissatisfaction with the material world and a restless yearning for a deeper and more meaningful existence. Faith is an openness to new experiences and to new ways of being. It is a willingness to be led by the spirit into new dimensions of existence and new ways of knowing. Faith is not a rigid conformity to the known but an exploration of that which is, as yet, unknown. It is an adventure which leads us through the vicissitudes of life until we come at last into the presence of God.

Today we celebrate the coming of the magi – those mysterious characters who follow a star to find a king. In taking the star as their guide, they were able to suspend, at least for a time, their need for certainty and assurance. On the basis of very scanty information, they were willing to step outside all that was familiar to seek out something about which they had only a very little real knowledge or information. Their curiosity, their willingness to look beyond the surface, their openness to new experiences, their ability to allow themselves to be led and their refusal to be waylaid brought them at last into the very presence of God.

Their ability to be open to the experience and their trust in the journey rather than in its outcome, meant that even when their journey did not end where they expected – in a palace, surrounded by wealth and power -they did not lose confidence but simply sought more information before setting out again. They did not begin with pre-conceived ideas, but rather, sensing that something important lay ahead, they kept on searching until they had discovered what and where it was. They were not disheartened or surprised when they found that which they sought in the most humble of circumstances, nor did they think their journey wasted or their gifts unnecessary. The end was simply as they found it, not as they had imagined it to be.

The journey of faith is somewhat similar to the journey of the magi. Beyond a few generalized hopes and expectations, we have no definitive road map and no absolute certainty as to what lies at the end of the journey. Though we have our scriptures and the words of the wise who have gone before us, we like the magi must day after day step out in the faith that there is more to life than we can see and more to death than the grave.

If the nature of God is always just beyond our reach, then the nature of faith is to retain an expectant openness to what God might reveal to us, a hopeful eagerness to learn more, a courageous willingness to let go of the need for absolute certainty and an ability to live with the tension of incompleteness. To do otherwise is to reduce God and Christianity to a set of reproducible formulae, to confine God to what is known and knowable, to remove the spiritual dimension from faith and to be content with only that which can be seen and felt and described.

Our journey of faith is an exploration of the unknown, a quest for meaning and a longing for God. If we have the confidence to let go of certainty and to embrace the uncertainty of the journey, we like the magi, will come at last to the only place in which we are truly at home – safe in the eternal presence of God.

Christmas 2010

Marian Free

In the name of God who did not despise the human condition, but embraced it, took it into himself and transformed all that is flawed and imperfect. Amen.

I’d like to share with you a poem which was read to us at General Synod by Clare Amos. The poem is by Michael Goulder.

Exceedingly odd,

Is the means by which God

Has provided our path to the heavenly shore:

Of the girls from whose line

The true light was to shine

There was one an adulteress, one was a whore.

There was Tamar who bore –

What we all should deplore –

A fine pair of twins to her father-in-law;

And Rahab the harlet,

her sins were as scarlet,

As red as the thread which she hung from the door;

Yet alone of her nation

She came to salvation,

And lived to be mother of Boaz of yore;

And he married Ruth,

A Gentile uncouth,

In a manner quite counter to biblical law;

And of her there did spring

Blessed David the King

who walked on his palace one evening,

and saw

The wife of Uriah,

From whom he did sire

A baby that died, oh, and princes a score.

And a mother unmarried

It was too that carried

God’s son, and him laid in a cradle of straw;

That the moral might wait

At the heavenly gate

While the sinners and publicans go in before,

Who have not earned their place

But received it by grace,

And have found them a righteousness not of the law.

(Michael Goulder – sourced from a Bible study at the Anglican General Synod, 2010)

Matthew’s account of Jesus’ birth begins with a record of Jesus’ ancestry. Matthew’s genealogy is unique – not only does it include five women who break the pattern of x was the father of y, but four, if not all five have questionable pasts. As the poem highlights, the list includes a woman who slept with her father-in-law, a prostitute, a Gentile who got into bed with a man she hoped would marry her, an adulteress and an unmarried mother.

No one really knows why the first four of these were included – was Matthew aiming to shock, to get our attention? Was he a closet feminist who wanted to highlight the role women played in bringing Jesus to birth or did he want to demonstrate the inclusiveness of the gospel? We’ll never know the answer, but whatever Matthew’s intention, the genealogy makes an important point about the Incarnation and about the way in which God works.

By including the four flawed women in his genealogy, Matthew demonstrates that God chose to enter the human condition not in purity and holiness but in all its frailty and ordinariness – choosing among those who would bring him to birth, the vulnerable and the not-so-squeaky clean. Jesus would not have truly reflected human nature if he had not embraced it in its entirety – the good and not so good. Jesus is not some super-human demi-god, but is really one of us – and his ancestry illustrates that. What is more, by becoming as the creed says, “truly human”, Jesus demonstrates once and for all that the fallen human condition is NOT beneath God’s notice, is NOT unworthy of God’s presence and is NOT unable to realize the divine nature within it. God doesn’t appear to take on human form. God really does become fully human, God really does become one of us – accepting for himself a heritage which truly illustrated the imperfections of humanity.

The other side of the anomalous genealogy is that Matthew’s use of the harlot and the prostitute reminds us of God’s ability to see beyond externals to a person’s true qualities and potential. Throughout history, God has used flawed and damaged people to do marvelous and wonderful things. God does not look for perfection in those whom he chooses, but for an ability to be faithful. So he chooses a murderer to lead the people out of Egypt, an adulterer to be the most famous king of Israel, the person who denied Jesus to be the leader of the early church and the person who persecuted Christians to be the most passionate and successful missionary. I could go on. Throughout history many whose lives and actions have transformed the world have had flaws that would lead to their exclusion in a world which expected perfection. Sometimes God chooses the most fragile and unreliable of natural resources from which to make the strongest, most effective and most faithful of disciples.

In becoming one of us, God demonstrates that though frail, human nature is capable of great things, and in choosing a flawed ancestry, God demonstrates that even those who are imperfect can contribute to the divine presence in the world.

The Incarnation is so much more than the baby. It tells us of God’s acceptance of and love for the world that he has made and of his confidence that despite its weaknesses and blemishes it can and will achieve great things.

Advent 4 2010

Matthew 1:18-25

Marian Free

In the name of God, who was not afraid to take on human flesh to save the world that he had created. Amen.

As you were listening to the gospel, I wonder if you thought to yourself – something’s missing here. If you did you were absolutely right – many of the things we associate with the birth of Jesus were not mentioned – mangers, shepherds and more. If you didn’t notice something missing, you would have done what we all do – that is you would have heard this as the story, just as on another occasion you would have heard the shepherds and manger as the stor. It is possible for all of us to hear and/or read the accounts of Jesus’ birth without noticing that there are in fact two quite different stories – one in Luke’s gospel and one in the gospel of Matthew. In popular imagination however there is only one – the one in which Gabriel appears to Mary, Joseph has a dream or two, the couple go to Bethlehem and after the birth of the child are visited by first the shepherds and then the Magi. Two different stories have been conflated into one in our minds and in the popular imagination.

Only Luke and Matthew even record Jesus’ birth. Apart from the virgin birth which must be a very early tradition, Matthew and Luke tell the story quite differently. Matthew begins with the genealogy of Jesus. He is keen to confirm that Jesus is both the Son of God and the Son of David. Having established the latter through the genealogy, Matthew moves to demonstrate how it is that Jesus is the Son of God. Mary is “found to be with child from the Holy Spirit”. “The child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.” Joseph’s son, the son referred to in the genealogy is by this reckoning also the Son of God. Matthew’s account is quite sparing and gives Joseph, not Mary, prominence. Mary is dispensed with quite early without having been addressed and without any attempt to explain her situation – how she found out she was pregnant, what she thought of the situation, whether or not she saw or heard an angel and whether or not she was surprised by what was happening. The annunciation of Jesus’ birth is made to Joseph not Mary, as is the command to name the child who is to be born.

Matthew is addressing a Jewish Christian community. It is important that he demonstrate that faith in Jesus is not only consistent with the Old Testament but that it is a continuation of that story. Matthew makes this point in a number of ways. The genealogy begins with Abraham – the founder of the Jewish faith and it continues through the line of David from whom the Messiah was said to come. Jesus’ conception is described in a similar way to that of the patriarchs and judges. Furthermore, the annunciation by the angel is consistent with Old Testament annunciations. The angel appears to Joseph and communicates Jesus’ birth, name and identity in much the same way that the angel spoke to Abraham. What Abraham is told: “Your wife shall bear you a son and you shall name him Isaac. I will establish my covenant with him as an everlasting covenant” is much the same as what Joseph is told: ‘She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” The formula: “bear a son” is repeated three times, as is “call… a name”. “She will bear a son .. you are to name him Jesus.” “The virgin shall bear a son and they shall name him Emmanuel – God with us.” “Until she had borne a son and he named him Jesus.”

Matthew is clearly concerned, not only to make the link with the Old Testament but also to make Jesus’ identity clear to his readers. Jesus is a version of the Hebrew Yeshua or Yeshu which are shortened forms of Joshua which means “God saves”. The second name, the name in the prophecy is an unusual choice, but it is one which fits a theme running throughout Matthew’s gospel. In “Emmanuel” or God with us, the past, present and future join together seamlessly. The one who is announced as Emmanuel is the same one who is present with the community now and the one who will return at the end of time. The story of Jesus is present and future tense as well as past. The Jesus whose birth is announced is the same Jesus who concludes the gospel by saying: “I am with you to the end of the world.”

The Old Testament annunciations include the person’s name and role. Jesus’ role is to: “save his people from their sins”. A formula that sounds familiar to our ears was in fact quite foreign to Jewish and Old Testament expectation. A saviour would set people free from oppression, someone sent by God would convict people of their sins. A saviour who would free people from their sins is a Christian view, an interpretation of the life of Jesus after the fact. At this point, Matthew breaks with the Old Testament to reveal something new about the person of Jesus – he will save God’s people from their sins. The removal of sin will be by grace and not by any effort on the part of the people.

Matthew’s short account concludes with Joseph’s compliance with the angel’s instruction. In words that are almost exactly the same as those the angel spoke to him Joseph takes Mary as his wife, she bears him a son and he names him Jesus.

It is clear that the tradition of the virgin birth is very early and that both Matthew and Luke use that tradition as the basis for their re-telling the story of Jesus’ birth. Thereafter their accounts are very different. What is important for us, is not so much trying to work out who is right and who is wrong but to listen to the voices of the evangelists, to look beyond the stories to the communities to whom they are speaking and whom they represent and to try to discover what the early church looked like and how it made sense of the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus.

Jesus, Emmanuel is God with us – God as a living presence in our community in our day and age. Our experience of God with us is formed and informed by the experience of the early Christian community, their records of Jesus’ life and teaching and their interpretation of the same. We cannot take ourselves back to the first century when Jesus walked on earth, nor can we put ourselves into the earliest communities as they tried to make sense of what they had experienced during the life of Jesus and were continuing to experience as a result of knowing the risen Jesus. What we can do, through prayer, bible study and worship is to maintain an openness to the presence of God, develop a willingness to be informed by that presence and a readiness to respond with grace to God’s call on our lives.

Advent 3 2011

Matthew 11:2-11

Marian Free

In the name of God who constantly surprises and refuses to be contained. Amen.

Most of us have been brought up to believe that the expectation of a “Messiah” was fairly standardized expectation in the Old Testament and therefore of the first century. After all, doesn’t Jesus fulfill the prophecy of the Old Testament. I’m sure that if asked most of us could draw up a list of criteria that the Messiah was to meet and which came together in Jesus. For starters, he was to be a descendant of David, born in Bethlehem of a young woman or a virgin and raised in Nazareth. He would heal the sick and give sight to the blind and he would to suffer and would die.

In fact, Jesus’ life holds few surprises for us because we are sure that everything that happened was predicted by the prophets. We would be surprised then to discover that the Old Testament has a wide variety of expectations for the future, only some of which can be seen to come to fruition in Jesus. The prophets variously expected a king, a warrior, a priest, a suffering servant, a son of man or a son of God to appear as God’s anointed. In some prophecies of the future there is no human saviour for God alone is the redeemer of Israel. The writings of Qumran demonstrate that not one but two messiahs were expected to come – one priestly and one to lead the eschatological battle. At least one of these was expected to have descendants.

The word for Messiah – the Hebrew “meshiach” or anointed is not very useful in this quest for a clear definition of a Messiah. God’s anointed is primarily someone chosen by God. Before 500BCE the expression referred only to historical figures and not to someone expected in the distant future. The word Messiah (anointed) was used for priests and for the kings of Israel. It was also applied to Cyrus, the king of Babylon who was chosen by God to take the Israelites into exile.

The expected role of a future messiah also varied over time. In some instances it was expected that God’s anointed would come to judge the earth and to inaugurate a new and heavenly age. In others, the messiah would bring about an earthly restoration of Israel and of the Davidic line of kings. The messiah would alternately destroy the Gentiles or bring them to faith.

At the beginning of the first century the concept of the “messiah” was still quite fluid. There was no one set of criteria which could be ticked off to prove that Jesus met the description of the “one who is to come.” At this time a number of revolutionary groups called their leaders “messiah” and the Jewish people seem to have had no problem accommodating a variety of different groups under the one umbrella of Judaism. No wonder then that few people recognised Jesus as the messiah and that even John the Baptist needed some sort of reassurance that Jesus was indeed who he, John, thought he was. So John sends his disciples to ask: “Are you the one who is to come?”

John who had declared that Jesus would baptize with fire wants to know whether this gentle miracle worker is indeed the one whom he had announced. Which of the boxes did Jesus tick? How many of the criteria did he meet? Jesus responds to the question by listing the things that people can see that he is doing – the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers^* are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. Jesus identifies his ministry with the things that Isaiah claims for the future in the today’s reading. He is not a warrior or a king, but he is clear that his ministry is consistent with at least some of the Old Testament expectations.

It is easy to be critical of those who failed to recognise Jesus during his time on earth, easy to convince ourselves – as the gospels do – that Jesus’ ministry was so obvious that no one could fail to see and to know who he was. We, however, have the benefit of hind-sight AND we know the end of the story. WE know about the Jesus through the gospels which were written nearly thirty years after the resurrection. In that time the early community has been able to gain some perspective on the events of Jesus’ life and to see how that life did indeed fit a pattern that was consistent with at least one strand of the expectations found in the Old Testament prophets. In the light of the resurrection and with the help of texts such as those from Isaiah, the evangelists are able to make sense of Jesus’ humble birth, to come to grips with his failure to raise an army and confront the occupying forces, to absorb his critique of the Judaism of his day, to accept his association with the unsavoury members of society, to understand his submission to the cross and to demonstrate how all this was consistent with the expectations of the prophets.

First century Jews at the time of Jesus had no such advantage. To those who did not recognise or understand him, Jesus must have seemed deliberately obtuse, intentionally confrontational and perversely unconventional. He broke the law and criticised the leaders of the church. He made no attempt to be accepted by or acceptable to institutional Judaism. No wonder that some asked: How could this be someone sent by, approved by God?

We might know the end of the story, but that does not give us an excuse for smugness or complacency. If Jesus was not universally recognised in the first century, there is no guarantee that we will recognise him in the 21^st. One of Jesus’ roles was to confront all those who thought they understood, but did not. His task was to open people’s eyes to see things as God saw them, not as humans saw them, to stand with and for the oppressed even when that was an affront to the establishment. He provided comfort and hope for the vulnerable, but caused disquiet for the confident and the self-assured. In this century it is just possible that we will be among those who are affronted and disquieted were Jesus to come among us.

In our journey of faith, it is important to remain open and alert, to refuse to allow ourselves to settle into one way of seeing things, to avoid the sort of confidence that blinds us to new experiences and revelations and to constantly question our prejudices. In Advent we look backwards to Jesus’ coming and forward to Jesus’ coming again, may the experience of that first coming, inform our expectation of the second so that nothing will so surprise us that we turn our backs on what we do not understand, or close our minds to that which we did not expect.

Keep awake, for you do not know the hour at which he is coming. Keep alert, because you cannot be sure that you know what to expect.

(The last three sermons have taken a while to upload mostly because All Saints was in the form of rough notes and was written immediately before a holiday. It is now more coherent and the recent sermons have been uploaded in order of delivery.)

Advent 2

Matthew 3:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God whose presence demands self perception, honesty and integrity. Amen.

When I was a child, my parents used to tell me the story of the Queen’s visit to Nigeria sometime in the 1950’s. Apparently  a great flurry of activity preceded the visit. This included whitewashing the walls of the houses so that they would look at their best. This was a great idea except that it didn’t actually benefit the residents of the houses as only one wall of each house was whitewashed – the wall that would be visible as the Queen drove past. Apparently, it was more important that the Queen was given a false impression of the prosperity and attendant neatness of the town than that she see it as it really was. A similar situation occurred in Glasgow though I don’t know when. On this occasion the buildings remained unpainted, but beautiful flowering plants were delivered to the tenements along the route that the Queen would take. After the Queen’s visit they were promptly removed – the brief bit of colour in the people’s lives taken away again. In both cases the powers that be felt that the Queen not be exposed to the poverty and bleakness of the lives of her subjects in these places.

On a national scale that sort of behaviour demonstrates a lack of integrity. City Councils and national governments put on a front to impress a visiting Head of State or other dignitary. It is not just the Queen who needs to be impressed. Tourists too, get the benefit of this sort of whitewash. Every time there is an EXPO or a World Cup, states and nations are accused of hiding (sometimes to the point of removing) the poor – who are perceived to be a blight on the landscape and should not be seen.

When nations behave in this way we accuse them of hypocrisy and worse, but when we as individuals do it, it is a different matter altogether. I imagine that there are few of us who do not want to make a good impression on those who do not know us well. I do not suppose that I am the only one among us who tries to tidy the house and even the garden when guests are coming. Doors can be shut and furniture rearranged so that those who are visiting can be led to think that the house is always tidy and clean. Likewise, when we meet someone for the first time, we are anxious to prove that we are clever enough, attractive enough or even funny enough to be worth knowing. (We are terrified that if people see us for whom we really are, that they might not like us.)

It doesn’t matter that those closest to us see the untidy house, the “just woken-up” face, experience our changes in mood and, see us at our worst as well as our best. What matters it seems, is that acquaintances and complete strangers think the very best of us. Our lives, by this measure are filled with deception and fraud. The deception is two-fold. We attempt to deceive by pretending to be what we are not, and we deceive ourselves, because we believe that our deception is working when in fact most people can see beyond the façade and those who know us well, know all our faults and failings.

When the Sadducees and Pharisees came to John for baptism he saw through and denounced their self- deception. “You brood of vipers,” he declares. Hardly the welcome that they might have expected! After all, they were not only among the religious elite – the priests and scholars of Israel, but they would have felt that they were exhibiting a certain amount of humility by coming out to John in the first place. John however does not believe that their desire for baptism is anything more than outward show. John can see past their status in society and their appearance of goodness to the hypocrisy and self-righteousness that lies beneath. He sees that they do not really acknowledge that they need to repent. They might be doing what they believe to be right, but their outward appearance disguises a certain self-satisfaction and an inability to recognise their shortcomings.

John urges them to recognition their need for repentance. He challenges them to be open and honest with themselves rather than depending on externals such as their descent from Abraham. They need he believes to stop their self-deception and to understand that their very arrogance prevents them from seeing their weaknesses and their failings. At the same time he makes it clear that God can see what they cannot and that if they won’t examine their lives, Jesus will do it for them and he will rid them of all that is not good.

Jesus also sees through the veneer of righteousness presented by the Pharisees and confronts their hypocrisy: ‘Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which on the outside look beautiful, but inside they are full of the bones of the dead and of all kinds of filth. ²So you also on the outside look righteous to others, but inside you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness.”(Mt 23)

It is easy for us to be smug when we hear John and Jesus attack the Sadducees and the Pharisees, easy to think that they were bad and deserved Jesus’ censure. Before we pass judgement however we need to remind ourselves that the Pharisees are not being denounced because they were bad, but because they were good or appeared to be good. The problem was that in their attempts to be good they had lost sight of their faults. By naming their hypocrisy, John and Jesus challenged them to engage in some honest self-reflection, to have the courage to peel back their superficial appearance of goodness,  to have a good look at what lay beneath and to make an honest assessment of who and what they were.

In our day we need to remember that no amount of whitewashing and no number of flowering pots can hide our true nature from God. Instead of keeping up the pretence, it is better to open our lives to scrutiny. If we do not like what we see, then it is almost certain that God will not like it either. Instead of pretending that our façade adequately covers our faults, it is better to bring them into the light of day, where we can see them more clearly and make an effort to address them instead of burying them. We may not be able to change, but we can try not to add to our sins the sin of self-deception.

John declares that Jesus will come to separate the wheat from the chaff.  We do not want eternity to be spoiled by arrogance, greed, self pity, intolerance. Those and every other negative character trait are all things that we hope will be left behind. The process of separation may be painful, but if we learn now to trust God with our lives, if we are open and honest with ourselves, there will be no surprises when at the last God removes from our lives those things that do not belong in heaven.  It is not that God expects us to be perfect – for only God is perfect. God expects us to trust in God and not ourselves, and to allow God to make us ready for the kingdom., for an eternity that is not blighted by the worst of human nature but enriched by the best.

Advent 1

Matthew 24:36-44

Marian Free

In the name of God who forms and transforms us so that we are fit for heaven. Amen.

^“Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day^* your Lord is coming.” In the light of what precedes these words – reminders of the flood, warnings about one being taken and the other being left – it is not surprising that many people experience a sense of dread about the coming of the end. Some people in fact are so terrified that, nearing their life’s end, they are unable to sleep – literally keeping awake – so afraid are they that God will find them wanting and sentence them to an eternity in the fires of hell. On the other hand there are many who, with little justification other than a belief in their own goodness, are quite confident that they and all whom they know and love will attain heaven when at last their time has come.

“Therefore you must be ready for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.” Being ready and awake probably lies somewhere between the extremes of terror and complacency. It would be absolutely nerve-wracking to spend a lifetime constantly looking over our shoulder wondering what God thinks about what we are doing and asking ourselves how God will judge us. On the other hand, it is unwise to be over-confident, to assume that God is indifferent to how we think and how we behave. The ends of this continuum – anxiety and self-satisfaction have this in common – both those who live in fear, and those who live without any concern at all have unwittingly made themselves equal to God. In judging themselves they have made their judgements the equal of those of God, they have presumed to know the mind of God. Both positions are dangerous and, while confidence is easier to live with than anxiety, neither allows for a true assessment of oneself and of one’s suitability for heaven.

C. S. Lewis is a theologian whose writings have had a profound affect on my own spiritual journey, particularly in relationship to the vexed question of how one prepares. In his book The Great Divorce, Lewis explores in an imaginary way what life beyond the grave might look like. He envisages that the dead enter a dreary, grey existence. There is a bus which offers some escape, but those who take the bus and return have nothing good to say about the place from which they have returned. Those who have the courage to risk the journey find themselves transported to a beautiful grassy field across which they are expected to walk. Again a risk in involved. Some who got there first are returning, complaining that the lush grass feels like needles to the feet. The brave step on to the grass which not as bad as expected, however as they cross the grass, they are confronted by ghosts from the past who taunt or terrify the new comers, so that some who so far were confident and struggle to continue, others find it so hard that they turn back. At last, the souls who have made it across the grass see a great crowd coming to greet them and to welcome them to the heavenly kingdom.

At this point in the story there comes a really poignant moment. One of the new comers who has made it so far, is a man whose wife nagged him mercilessly during her lifetime and whom he had, presumably, envisaged a future in which she would be judged and found wanting. In turn, his suffering at her hands would at last be rewarded. Imagine his shock and consternation when among those running to greet him is his wife – arms stretched out to embrace him, as if all that has happened between them had been of no account. She is filled with joy at seeing him, all vexation has long since been forgotten. However, over the years the man has stored up so much resentment, has so nursed his disappointment and his hurt, that even in this new environment and even though he sees that God has found a place for his wife, the man is rooted to the spot. He simply cannot open his heart to accept his wife’s welcome. He cannot even in this place of joy and peace let go of the past and he turns to go. God has not sent him away. The man has decided he cannot stay. If his wife can be in heaven, then heaven is not what he had been hoping for. At the same time, his pent up anger and resentment demonstrate that he is not ready for heaven.

In another book Mere Christianity Lewis expresses a similar concept in this way: “The point is not that God will refuse you admission to His eternal world if you have not got certain qualities of character: the point is that if people have not got at least the beginnings of these qualities inside them, then no possible external conditions could make a ‘Heaven’ for them – that is, could make them happy with the deep, strong, unshakeable happiness God intends for us.”[1]

What this says to me is that achieving eternity is not a matter of being good – that is not doing anything wrong, doing good deeds. Achieving eternity means developing now, in this life ‘a deep, strong, unshakeable happiness’ that pushes out all that is base and mean in us – a happiness that is not reliant on what we do or achieve in this life, a happiness that is not based on what others do or think, a happiness that does not put others down or measure itself against the behaviour of others.

If this is the case, then “being ready” is not a matter of being constantly on high alert waiting for God to reach out and strike us. “Being ready” is more a matter of imagining the heavenly existence and preparing ourselves for it. Readiness involves ridding our lives of all the characteristics that even we can see do not belong in heaven – envy, greed and hatred, but even disapproval and self-righteousness. Being ready means understanding God’s right to choose to include everyone who understands what God is about, everyone who is honest enough to acknowledge that they don’t deserve to belong, but humble enough to admit that they yearn to belong.

In reality, this kind of readiness is much more terrifying than the alertness which waits in fear for God to appear from nowhere and strike us down. It is frightening because it demands honesty and self-examination. It is unsettling, because it threatens our sense of identity and asks us to forsake our ego. It is disconcerting because, rather than asking us to do something, it asks us to stop doing and to accept what God is doing in us.

“Therefore you must be ready for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.” In order to be ready we must stop striving for worldly goods and values. We must stop building our own identity and instead allow God to be formed in us. We must seek the deep peace, joy and happiness that come only from God. We must have the courage to see ourselves as God sees us, and the humility to allow God to transform us into what God would have us be. Then regardless of whether we have reached a state of perfection, we will have begun to gain an understanding of God and of the nature of the kingdom and though imperfect still we will be ready to be perfected and will find ourselves at home with all the other imperfect human beings who will inhabit with us that place where there is only peace and joy and harmony.