Swallowsrest

All Saints 2010

Marian Free

In the name of God whose presence is around and in us. Amen.

(Notes for a sermon)

I want to tell two stories this morning

There is a story about a monastery which, like many monasteries of its times was struggling to attract new members. As a result the community was fractious and filled with discontent. There were not enough people to do the daily tasks so everyone felt put upon and everyone felt that no one else was pulling their weight. Into this mix came a visitor – a stranger who was passing by and needed shelter. The stranger joined in with the activities of the monastery for a few days. When it came time for him to leave the stranger announced that during his stay he had received a revelation from God. It had been made known to him that it was to this community that Christ would come when he returned to earth.

Well, you can just imagine the anticipation and anxiety that followed the announcement. Of course, the community would have to be ready for Jesus’ return – not just physically but spiritually. Members of the community began to grumble less and to go about their chores with more grace than had been seen for some time. What is more, their attitude to each other changed. If this was the community into which Jesus would come, perhaps he was here already.

No one mentioned their fears, but the life of the community changed dramatically. Every member of the community treated every other as though they were Jesus himself. Everyone became considerate and thoughtful about the needs of others, no one complained about how much work they had to do.

The second story relates to a Parish in which one of the churches was dedicated to All Saints. One year, to celebrate the festival of All Saints the children made crowns (the symbol of All Saints). During the service the crowns were presented to everyone in the church and everyone, old and young, joined in the spirit of the day and wore their crowns throughout the service. It was a marvelous sight to look out at a congregation of crowned saints and to be reminded that in the early church the term saint was not reserved for particular people, but was applied to all believers.

The two stories are quite different, but in my mind they are connected because both relate to how we, especially we in the church, see each other.

When Paul writes to the members of his congregations he calls them all saints without discrimination – the good, the bad and the indifferent – they are all saints. If, according to Paul, we are all saints, and if, as the first story reminds us, Jesus is present in us all, we are challenged to see each other differently. As with the monks, we are confronted with the notion that everyone else in the community is Christ, and everyone in the community is a saint.

All of us are here because we have glimpsed in some small way the saving grace of Jesus and the boundless love of God – that makes us saints. It doesn’t automatically change our brokenness and vulnerability, being saints doesn’t make us perfect just those who are on our way to being perfected.

But – if we are all saints, and if Jesus is present within each of us – then we should treat each other as saints and as if Jesus himself were truly present. Such respect, such tolerance of each other’s foibles would truly make us into a remarkable community, a community on which others would comment and a community so filled with love and peace that others would want to join.

This is already a community of love and care. May the saints at St Augustine’s be so formed into the image of Christ and of the saints of old, that those who know us may say as Tertullian said of the early church: “Those Christians  – see how they love each other.”

Pentecost 22

Luke 18:18-30

Marian Free

In the name of God whose radical unfairness, challenges us to rethink our sense of justice. Amen.

There is a song by an Australian band called Moving Pictures which became one of our family anthems. The chorus goes: “What about me? It isn’t fair, I’ve had enough now I want my share.”  You can almost hear these words coming from Peter in today’s gospel: “What about us? It isn’t fair, we’ve left everything and we want our share.”

Peter has been eavesdropping on the conversation between the ruler and Jesus and it seems that he simply has to interrupt. His childish sense of justice gets the better of him. If the ruler must sell everything to inherit the kingdom, then surely he and the other disciples are home and hosed. However he is not entirely confident, what if after all everything they have done is not enough? Peter wants to make sure that Jesus has noted disciples’ commitment and sacrifice and that he can tell them that what they have done will be enough. “Look, we have left our homes and followed you.”

Peter’s statement is very direct: “Look!” he says. Peter is demanding Jesus’ attention. He is drawing Jesus focus away from the ruler and bringing Jesus’ attention to himself. His insecurity is obvious for everyone to see. He sounds very much like an attention-seeking child: “Look at me, I can do it too. Look at me, I’m special too. Look at me, notice me. See how much I have done for you. It’s not fair, I’ve done just as much, I deserve a reward as well.”

One of the things about the apostle Peter is that it is very easy to identify with his humanity – his impatience, his failure to understand, and, in this instance his need for everything to be fair. Children in particular have a keen sense of justice. Anyone who has ever been a child and anyone who has been a parent knows only too well the refrain: “It isn’t fair – she started it, he got more than me.” and so on. Peter is concerned to establish that God is fair – that God has certain criteria which must be met and that if one meets them one’s place in the kingdom is assured. If as Jesus has said to the ruler, the criterion is to sell everything then surely he (and the other disciples) have well and truly fulfilled the criteria – they have left their homes and followed Jesus. Peter thinks in terms of comparison – am I as good as or better than someone else? Peter is concerned about what is fair – if that person gets into heaven because they have done such and such, then if I do the same, then so must I. According to Peter’s sense of justice, there must be one rule, one criterion, one set of standards for entry into the kingdom. In his view of the world there must be one size which fits all.

The problem for Peter, as for us all, that there is not one set of criteria that fits every situation and every person. Jesus demonstrated over and again that sets of rules were inadequate to provide an accurate guide as to who would and who would not enter the kingdom of heaven. People like the Pharisees who relied on the law often found themselves the victims of Jesus’ harshest criticism. Dependence on the law as a measure of righteousness often had the affect of creating a legalistic mindset which was unable to see beyond the rules to exercise the kind of compassion and understanding which the law was intended to foster. Reliance on the law provided a false sense of security, it led people to believe that they could earn credits by behaving in a certain way whether or not their hearts were really in it. On the other hand, Jesus reveals that the most surprising people, people who do not obey the law in the conventional sense, who will enter the kingdom of heaven. Tax-collectors and prostitutes will enter the kingdom of heaven first.

There is no one size fits all. God sees into the hearts of all of people and understands their motivations. God knows when the law-abiding among us hide their sins of disdain for others, their arrogance and their self-assurance. Likewise God knows that many people who do not fulfill the letter of the law, show in their lives humility and generosity of spirit which no law can enforce. Comparing ourselves against others, measuring our goodness against the failings of others demonstrates not only our failure to trust in God’s judgement, but also a blindness to our own faults and a lack of compassion for the weaknesses of others.

The ruler who comes to Jesus has a commendable amount of insight. His is not a superficial faith. He is aware that even though he obeys the law, something is missing in his relationship with God. He comes to Jesus, not to boast about his achievements, but to ask what more he should do. Did he think that Jesus would make him feel better by saying that he was doing enough? Did he hope that Jesus would simply encourage him to enhance his prospects of eternal life, by adding prayer and fasting to his law-observant behaviour? What we do know is that Jesus’ suggestion that he sell all that he owned and give the money to the poor was not an answer he expected and that it was not something he felt that he could do, at least not in the present.

The point is that the commandments alone were not sufficient for the ruler. Jesus perceived that what he needed was a complete re-ordering of his life. He needed to share God’s compassion for the poor and the outcast instead of hiding behind his rule-observant behaviour and taking no responsibility for the suffering in the world. In the same way, there was not rule or law that could assure Peter of his place in the kingdom. Peter would have to examine his own life to discover what was missing. It’s not fair, there is not one rule that fits all, Peter’s story is not the ruler’s story, the ruler’s story is not the basis for or the measure against which the success of Peter’s story can be determined. Nor is it necessarily the basis for, or the gauge against which our lives will be measured.

What must I do to inherit the kingdom of God. Each of us must ask our own question of Jesus. Each of us must examine our own lives to determine what is missing in our own relationship with God. Each of us must be open to the answer that we are given. It isn’t fair, there isn’t one size that fits all. The good news is that we won’t all be asked to sell everything and give the money to the poor. The bad news is that being good isn’t enough. God asks that we give nothing less than our all.

Pentecost 21

Luke 18:1-17

Marian Free

In the name of God who is attentive to our prayer. Amen.

What do a widow, a tax collector and a child have in common? I don’t know. If I was a comedian, perhaps I could come up with a clever line – you know: a widow, a tax collector and a child walked into a bar, or a widow, a tax collector and a child were in a boat. However, I’m not a comedian and don’t know where I’d go from there.

Today’s rather long gospel contains three distinct stories, the widow and the judge, the Pharisee and the tax collector and Jesus’ welcome and commendation of the children. At first glance, it is impossible to find anything in common between the three accounts; however a closer look reveals that in each story, it is the outsider who is shunned by someone in authority, who becomes the centre of Jesus’ teaching. The widow who is ignored, the tax collector who is despised and the child who is pushed away, all become the model for what it is that Jesus is trying to teach.

To Jesus’ listeners, it is no surprise at all that the judge ignores the widow, the Pharisee compares himself favourably with the tax collector and the children are shooed away from Jesus. In first century Palestine, this is exactly what might have been expected – widows had little to no social status, tax collectors had aligned themselves with the occupying forces and children were simply the property of their father (of little consequence at all). However Jesus takes his listeners by surprise. He turns each of the stories around so that those who are excluded become the models for those are confident of their place in the kingdom.

All three stories are used to illustrate the overarching theme of the section which is introduced in the opening sentence of chapter 18: “Then Jesus^* told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart.” The link between the three disparate stories is how to pray – how to pray in the time between now and the end, how to pray in the face of persecution, how to pray in such a way that is in accord with the kingdom of heaven and how to pray if you think that you already know how to pray.

Three aspects of prayer are emphasised in these stories – patience, humility and receptivity. In the case of the widow, God is not being compared to the unjust judge who only reacts when violence is threatened (the greek word is “give me a black eye). On the contrary, the focus in the parable is the woman’s patient, constant prayer – even in the face of obstruction. The Pharisee illustrates all that good prayer is not. Prayer is a way of opening oneself to the presence of God, of listening and responding to what God might have to say. It requires humility and openness rather than arrogance and overconfidence.

The Pharisee is not necessarily a bad person. In fact, he fasts and he gives a tenth of his income, both of which are commendable practices. However, he is too sure of himself and to busy telling God how good he is to worry about how good he is not. Prayer for him consists of a litany of the failures of others and of self-commendation. He doesn’t need God to justify him, so convinced is he of his own value and righteousness.

In contrast the Pharisee is the tax-collector who is not necessarily a morally bad man, but someone whose occupation is considered a sin. His circumstances in life, may dictate that he needs this kind of work to provide for his family. The tax collector comes before God only too aware of his shortcomings and of his need for God’s mercy. His focus is not on himself but on God.

The simplicity and trust of the tax collector’s prayer are further illustrated by the account of the children who are brought to Jesus. We are to understand that young children are wide-eyed and expectant. Unless they have been unlucky, they have not yet learned to be cynical and distrustful of the world in general. Their openness, trust and receptivity provide a model of the attitude that everyone should have towards God: “whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” The attitude of the children is in stark contrast to the disciples whose rigid application of the law has led them to play God.

Jesus uses the unexpected and those who are not respected, to get the attention of his audience and to make his point loud and clear. Prayer is not simply a matter of repeating set formula, it does not require a curriculum vitae of one’s virtues and good deeds, it does not need to be sophisticated and above all, it does not belong solely to the righteous, the reputable, to those of good standing, wisdom or experience, but to all who with patience, openness, self awareness and expectancy turn to God in good times and in bad.

So even though her situation is desperate, the widow remains confident in her cause and so does not give up. The tax-collector is aware that he is a sinner but trusts God enough to pray anyway.  Children simply believe that they will be welcomed and heard and bring to prayer innocence and a confidence in God’s love for them. In contrast, the judge simply doesn’t care, the Pharisee’s overconfidence means that he doesn’t allow God to communicate with him, but uses prayer to tell God how things are, and the overzealous disciples believe that access to God belongs only to those of a certain standing or social status.

Jesus commends constancy, humility and receptivity and by using outsiders as his models he is reminding his listeners of the divine reversal that the coming kingdom will bring when those who are now on the margins will find themselves at the centre, when the poor will be blessed and the first will be last. Prayer then is a way of aligning ourselves with God’s way of doing things of preparing ourselves for the time when things will be turned upside down when those on the outside will have privileged access to the kingdom.

May our prayer be that of the persistent widow, the humble tax collector and the expectant child and may we never be so confident in ourselves and in our own righteousness that we fail to understand that God can choose whomever God wills to be part of the kingdom, that the wideness of God’s love and mercy embraces all people and that those of us who are privileged here, must expect that those who are not will be privileged in the kingdom. Amen.

St Francis’ Day

Luke 17:11-19

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to love even the outcast, the repulsive and those who are impossible to love. Amen.

There are many things for which St Francis is famous. Today we remember his love for and his ability to communicate with animals because it resonates with our own love for and relationship with the animals in our care. However, there is much more to Francis than his love for God’s creation. Among other things he gave up the wealth of his father’s household to follow Jesus and to rely on the generosity of strangers. He lived a simple life preaching the word of God to the poor. He showed Jesus’ love for the outcast. He took on the Pope of the day and tried to end the Crusades by speaking directly with Al-Kamil, the Sultan of Egypt. He gathered around himself a group of like-minded people, forming a brotherhood which still exists in a variety of forms today.

The model for Francis’ life was Jesus himself and in all that he did, he tried to emulate his Saviour. A story about Francis meeting a leper illustrates this point. He was, like most people of his day filled with not a little apprehension and revulsion when he saw a beggar who was also a leper in his path. Considering Jesus love and compassion for all, Francis forced himself off his horse and not only embraced, but also kissed the leper before giving him his own tunic.

Another story, recorded in Chapter 25 of “The Little Flowers of St Francis” goes as follows:

“It happened once, that in a convent near the one in which St Francis then resided there was a hospital for leprosy and other infirmities, served by the brothers. One of the patients was a leper so impatient, so insupportable, and so insolent, that many believed that he was possessed by the devil for he ill-treated with blows and words all those who served him; and, what was worse, he blasphemed our Lord and his most holy Mother, that none was found who could or would serve him. The brothers, indeed, to gain merit, endeavoured to accept with patience the injuries and violences committed against themselves, but their consciences would not allow them to accept blasphemy, so they determined to abandon this leper, but this they would not do until they had signified their intention to St Francis. On learning this, St Francis himself visited this perverse leper, and said to him: “May God give thee peace, my beloved brother!” To this the leper answered: “What peace can I look for from God, who has taken from me peace and every other blessing, and made me a putrid and disgusting object?” St Francis answered: “My son, be patient; for the infirmities of the body are given by God in this world for the salvation of the soul in the next; there is great merit in them when they are patiently endured.” The sick man answered: “How can I bear patiently the pain which afflicts me night and day? For not only am I greatly afflicted by my infirmity, but the friars thou hast sent to serve me make it even worse, for they do not serve me as they ought.” Then St Francis began to pray most earnestly for him. Having finished his prayer, he returned to the leper and said to him: “My son, I myself will serve you, seeing you are not satisfied with the others.” “Willingly,” answered the leper; “but what can you do more than they have done?” “Whatsoever you wish I will do for thee,” answered St Francis. “I wish then,” said he, “that you wash me all over; for I am so disgusting that I cannot bear myself.” Then St Francis heated some water, putting therein many odoriferous herbs; he then undressed him, and began to wash him with his own hands, whilst another brother threw the water upon him, and, by a divine miracle, wherever St Francis touched him the leprosy disappeared, and his flesh was perfectly healed also. On this the leper, seeing his leprosy beginning to vanish, felt great sorrow and repentance for his sins, and began to weep bitterly. While his body was being purified externally of the leprosy through the cleansing of the water, so his soul internally was purified from sin by the washing of tears and repentance; and feeling himself completely healed both in his body and his soul, he humbly confessed his sins, crying out in a loud voice, with many tears: “Unhappy me! I am worthy of hell for the wickedness of my conduct to the brethren, and the impatience and blasphemy I have uttered against the Lord.”

In this account, the leper, overwhelmed by the goodness and mercy of God, becomes aware of his own pettiness, his self-absorption and his failure to trust in God’s love. His response to his external transformation is remorse and inner transformation. Having experienced first hand the great love of God and he realises that not only has he done nothing to deserve such love, but just the opposite. In great humility he turns to God in gratitude and penitence. When he dies his soul appears to Francis saying:”I am that leper whom our Lord healed through thy merits, and to-day I am going to life eternal, for which I return thanks to God and to thee.”

Leprosy was (and in some places still is) a disease that was treated with revulsion, fear and suspicion. Sufferers were segregated from healthy members of the community and forced to live on the charity of others. Not only were they isolated physically but also emotionally as they became objects of disgust and horror. In the days before medical science had developed a cure, healing was seen as something of a miracle and it meant not only an end to suffering but a restoration to society, to one’s family and friends.

The story of the lepers in today’s gospel quite extraordinary – ten are healed and restored to their communities yet only one of the ten returns to say: “Thanks” and of the ten it is the least expected – the Samaritan who, despite his healing remains marginalised and excluded. The one who from his position of exclusion, knows how much he has received, is the only one to return to give thanks. The others, it would appear, take their healing as their right.

We must be careful, who are on the inside, we who are not marginalised by disease, poverty, race, religion, ability or lack thereof, employment or any other condition need to beware lest our very respectability, the blessings which we take for granted, cause us to become complacent, to take for granted the blessings which God has so richly bestowed on us.  Every morning when we wake we have cause for thanksgiving and every evening when we fall asleep we have reason to offer thanks to God. Every hour of every day we have reason to thank God for all God’s gifts to us. Let us not be like the nine, but take as our model the one who knew what he had received and who responded by giving thanks.

Pentecost 18

Luke 16:1- 9, 19-31

The rogue manager and the rich man and Lazarus (notes)

Marian Free

These two parables, though separated by some other teaching of Jesus, need to be read in tandem. Both are disturbing, the first because in it, Jesus appears to applaud dishonesty and the second because it implies that anyone with wealth will burn in hell. Both are a means to shock us into paying attention and both deal with preparation for eternal life.

In the first story a manager is dismissed for dishonesty. His response is to approach all his master’s creditors and reduce the size of their debts ensuring their obligation to him. This behaviour may not be as reprehensible as we might think. A manager was responsible for his master’s accounts and as such he set the interest rates charged. He was within his rights to charge an amount that included payment to himself. In reducing the debt, he may not have been cheating the master, but reducing or cancelling the amount owed to himself. Whatever the situation, his actions have ensured the goodwill of those who debts have been reduced. When he is old and in reduced circumstances, he will be assured that he can count on these people for support. He has gone without income in the present of ensure security in the future.

Jesus’ point here is that world wealth does not provide earthly security – that believers should be prepared to support those in need so that the poor (who, in Luke’s gospel have priority in the kingdom) will welcome us into the heavenly kingdom.

This parable of the rogue manager is followed by a second parable which adds further weight to Luke’s emphasis on there coming reversal of all things – particularly the reversal between the rich and the poor. (Remember Mary’s song: “You have filled the hungry with good things and the rich you have sent empty away.” and his uncompromising Beatitude “Blessed are you poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.”)

In the second parable – that about the rich man and Lazarus – the reversal between rich and poor becomes complete as is seen by the structure of the narrative.

The story begins and ends with a fixed, unchangeable position, between the beginning and the end however, the position of the main characters is completely reversed as the diagramme shows.

The poor man outside                           The rich man inside

unfulfilled longing (hunger)

torment (sores, licked by dogs)

Lazarus dies and is carried by the angels to Abraham. The rich man dies and is buried.

And there is a reversal of their positions.

The rich man outside                             Lazarus inside

unfulfilled longing(thirst)

torment (flames)

The chasm that once separated the rich man and Lazarus on earth (their wealth or lack of it) is replicated by the chasm between heaven and hell. In life and in death the men are separated by a boundary that cannot be crossed. (It is important to note that the stories are not about the moral life of the two men. neither the rich man nor the poor man are described as either virtuous or wicked. What distinguishes them is their wealth.

As I said, both parables are about preparation for eternity. In the first, the manager (though not a “moral” man by our standards),  but his actions illustrate the importance of understanding the gospel, of knowing that there is a need to prepare for eternity and of ensuring that the poor (who have priority will welcome them into their heavenly home). The rich man understands too late. That the stories are about conversion (understanding the message of the gospel) is demonstrated by the rich man’s plea that a messenger be sent to his brothers. (However, the writer of Luke’s gospel knows that there are those whose hearts are hardened and who will not believe even if someone returns from the dead. He is directing his comment to those who have not believed in Jesus despite the resurrection.)

It is important to understand that there is a future and that we all need to be prepared. In this sense, the parable of the manager and of the rich man explain each other. The manager sees the impending crisis and plans accordingly. The rich man remains blind and is caught unawares.

All year we have seen that Luke’s Jesus is aware of the urgency of the time and of the great reversal that will take place when the first will be last and the last will be first, when the poor will be lifted and the rich sent empty away. Luke’s Jesus urges listens to make a decision, a decision for Jesus, for faith which will turn their values upside down.

Through this gospel, we are called to re-examine our values, to make sure that our hearts are in the right place that we have our priorities right, that we know what is really important and that we share in God’s concern for the poor, the vulnerable and the down-trodden and in so doing, prepare ourselves for an eternity in which our earthly values, status and wealth will count for nothing.

Luke’s Jesus is saying: “Do not wait until it is too late, the time is now, it is always now.”

For this interpretation I am dependent on Brendan Bryne’s “The Hospitality of God: A Reading of Luke’s Gospel. Collegeville, Minnesotta:The Liturgical Press, 2000, 133-137.

Pentecost 15

Luke 14:25-35

Marian Free

In the name of Christ, in whose service our lives are re-thought and re-evaluated and our priorities re-assessed. Amen.

“Whoever does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes even life itself, cannot be my disciple.” “None of you can be my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.” By these criteria, I am certainly not a disciple of Jesus. I don’t hate my family and it is obvious that I have not given up all my possession. If these are the criteria by which Christians are measured, I suspect few of us would measure up. The standards are so daunting, that it is a wonder that more of us don’t simply give it all away. Then again, if we did that, we would find ourselves in the category of those who begin but do not finish. It seems as though we cannot win. We cannot reach the high standards that Jesus demands, but if we stop trying we expose ourselves as those who are unable to see the task through to the end.

Jesus’ language is uncompromising and his demands seem impossible to fulfil, but these sayings on the cost of discipleship while serious, must be seen in their wider context – something that we lose when we only have a portion of the gospel each week. With these saying we are coming to the end of a section in which Jesus has been challenging the social and cultural conventions of those around him and trying to expose the narrowness of the values of the world compared with the values of the kingdom.

In the context of a meal hosted by a Pharisee, Jesus challenged the accepted notions of honour and prestige and implied that the social convention of reciprocity did not belong in the world view that he was proclaiming. He continues with a parable about a banquet given by a wealthy landowner in which the domestic affairs of the invited guests make them oblivious to the honour of the invitation and their attachment to their worldly relationships and possessions, cause them to dishonour their obligation to attend the banquet – they needed to see a newly purchased block of land, they had just got married, they had bought oxen which they wanted to try out.

Jesus moves from this observation about the way in which attachment to the world, leads to disdain towards God, to general statements about attachment and discipleship. Discipleship, Jesus contends sees the world from the perspective of a relationship with God and not vice versa. Worldly possessions and relationships are all re-evaluated in the light of the invitation which God offers.

This does not necessarily mean that we all have to give up absolutely everything. It does mean that we have to re-evaluate our attitudes to our possessions and our relationships. In these uncompromising statements Jesus forces us to ask ourselves where our true priorities lie, what is really important to us, what do we really need, are we really committed to following Jesus, or are our lives determined by the values, relationships and material goods of this world? Do our possessions determine us or do we determine their place in our lives?

Jesus challenges to consider these questions by putting before us a number of demands. First he suggests that discipleship involves a re-ordering of relationships “Loving and hating” are strong terms in our cultural setting, but in Jesus’ context they are an expression for preference. If a person preferred one thing over another they were said to love one and hate the other. Disciples are not called to “hate” their family. However, in a culture in which ancestry and social status were of primary importance, Jesus is challenging the disciples to understand that such concerns are a form of self-absorption which detracts from a relationship with God and with others.

Disciples must also consider their attitude to themselves and to the value they place on their lives. A disciple may or may not have to carry a cross in the same way that Jesus did, but discipleship means having a certain detachment to the world, a willingness not to cling to life but to give one’s future into the hands of God.

Because discipleship means a re-evaluation of one’s attitude to the world, to one’s possessions and relationships, a decision to follow Jesus should not be taken lightly. Beginning without being prepared to finish, not only indicates a failure to do the groundwork, but exposes one (and one’s faith) to ridicule and defeat. In summary, a follower of Jesus must be prepared to see the world in a new way, willing to re-evaluate relationships and priorities, to say “farewell” to all that they have and to begin life afresh guided and directed by the values and priorities taught and lived by Jesus. The only way to achieve what Jesus promises is to begin the journey determined to finish it. Discipleship is a lasting commitment, not a fleeting passion which passes when the next enthusiasm comes into sight.

This leads Jesus to his last comment (for now) on discipleship. “Disciples” who by their lives and behaviour do not stand out from the world around them, have as little value and make as little impact as salt that has lost its flavour.

According to Jesus, being a disciple is transformative; it leads to a re-evaluation of what is important and what is not. It leads, not only to a change in one’s behaviour, but to a change in one’s relationship to the world, to a change in one’s relationship with one’s community and a change in one’s attitude to one’s life.

Jesus’ language is quite uncompromising. Discipleship is not something that can be half-hearted. One is either a follower of Jesus or one is not. One is either prepared to see the journey through to the end or one is not. One is either prepared to be transformed by the presence of God or one is not. Discipleship demands an attitude change. It demands that we see all our relationships, our possessions, our achievements in the light of our relationship with God. When we place God and our relationship with God first, everything else falls into place and we discover that we have lost nothing and gained everything.

Pentecost 14

Luke 14:1, 7-14

Marian Free

In the name of God, who turns everything upside down and invites us to see the world in the ways and with new eyes and to live accordingly. Amen.

“Praise the God who changes places.”   The words of the hymn might be simplistic, but behind them likes a profound truth – that Jesus is the image of the upside down God. From beginning to end, Jesus challenges and subverts the accepted wisdom, social conventions and religious traditions of his time. As the upside down God, he enters the world, not as the child of someone rich and powerful, but of someone obscure and unimportant and he leaves his earthly life not in a blaze of glory, but hanging on a cross. He refuses to give his disciples positions of privilege, and rather than exercise authority over them he “stoops to wash their feet”!

Luke understands the nature of this upside down God. From the beginning of the gospel where Mary declares: “he has brought down the mighty from their thrones and lifted up the lowly”, through Jesus’ declaration that he has come to preach good news to the poor, to Jesus’ choice of the most unlikely disciples, his preaching: “blessed are the poor” and “love your enemies”, and his acceptance of the despised and the outcast, Luke paints a picture of a Jesus who shows no regard for the social conventions of his time, and who in fact does everything possible to shatter and destroy them. Throughout Luke’s gospel, Jesus challenges and disturbs. He confronts the way things are and demonstrates how they could be.

Living in a different time, we don’t always see how confronting Jesus’ teaching and actions were to the people of his age. It has lost much of its sting. Our world view is quite different from that of first century Palestine and, after 2,000 years of repetition, Jesus’ teaching is so familiar to us that it often fails to make its mark.

Today’s gospel is a case in point. To us, it makes perfect sense that a person would wait to be seated rather than making an assumption about their degree of importance. The second lesson has lost its power to shock. Todays Christians might not go out of their way to invite the poor and the lame into their homes, but we understand that we should not exclude those who are different from ourselves and I imagine that most of us would be happy to entertain those from whom we expected nothing in return.

Luke tells us that Jesus is at a dinner party. The host is a leader of the Pharisees and the guests are Pharisees and lawyers – their social status is that of equals. Jesus does two things. He makes an observation about the behaviour of the guests and then he directs his attention to his host and to those invited. That the two stories belong together is demonstrated by the structure and common language which they share.

In the Mediterranean world of the first century, society was clearly stratified. From the lowest slave to Caesar himself, every person had a place in the world and knew how to behave appropriately within that place. Within that context shared meals played an important role both in revealing and determining a person’s social status. An invitation received and where one sat in relation to the host were a public acknowledgement of one’s position in society. In such a situation it was not out of the question that some guests would try to preempt the seating arrangement – choosing a good seat in the hope that they would receive the honour that went with it. The guest list would include only those who would enhance the host’s status. Those who were guests would in turn receive the honour of being associated with the host.

This notion of reciprocity went further than the mutual honour it bestowed. A code of reciprocity served to ensure the stability of the whole Empire. Gift and obligation tied every person in the Empire into an intricate web of social relations. With few exceptions everything given or received implied an obligation on one side or another. Nothing was free. This was equally true of an invitation to a meal. Acceptance of an invitation implied a willingness to reciprocate. For this reason, invitations would not be given to the poor – not only would it reflect badly on one’s own status, there would be little hope of a return invitation and the invitee would be embarrassed by being forced to decline the invitation because of the impossibility of returning the favour.

In today’s gospel, Jesus begins by observing the guests choose their seats, in particular the way in which they choose positions of honour. At first he appears to simply be giving sound advice within the context of the social mores of the time – avoid embarrassment and shame by waiting to be seated instead of presuming to know one’s place. Verse 11 however, makes it clear that rather than supporting the social conventions, Jesus is turning them upside down – “all who exalt themselves will be humbled, those who humble themselves will be exalted.” The values Jesus preaches and lives are the exact reverse of the values of the Roman world. Seeking honour and prestige do not belong in the world that Jesus is revealing.

Having inverted the accepted behaviour of guests at a meal, Jesus’ attention then turns to his host who, in accordance with the societal values of his time, has invited only those guests who can reciprocate the invitation and those who by their own status, will reinforce his social prestige. Again Jesus undermines the status quo and makes a suggestion which, if observed, would destroy the finely tuned social fabric not only of Judaism, but of the Empire as a whole – invite the poor, the lame, the crippled and the blind. The inclusion of these outsiders would break down the carefully constructed social stratification, destroy the conventions of reciprocity and unravel the intricate ties which held together in an orderly fashion the social relationships of the Empire. The reward for such behaviour is not even immediate or visible, but an unseen, indeterminate blessedness.

In seven short verses, Jesus makes it clear that the new order which he preaches requires nothing less than a complete rearrangement of the way in which the world is structured.  The reward for such radically different behaviour lies not in earthly power, prestige or recognition, but in the blessedness which only God can bestow and which transcends both time and place. “Those who humble themselves will be exalted.” “And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

An upside down God, preaching upside down values in the hope that by turning the world upside down, it will end right side up.

Pentecost 13

Luke 13:10-17 (18-21)

Marian Free

In the name of God whose kingdom shakes us up and sets us free. Amen.

Of course, we all know what today’s gospel is about. It is a simple miracle story about Jesus’ healing a woman. We might add to that, that it is a story about Jesus’ breaking the Sabbath and his conflict with the authorities. However, before we accept the account at face value, there are a few things that we need to note. First of all, we note that the account is set in the context of a synagogue. For the first century listeners, this setting would have evoked memory of the first time that Jesus taught the synagogue – in Nazareth. On that occasion Jesus announced that he had come to set the captives free and to bring good news to the poor and he narrowly escaped being chased off a cliff.

The second important thing to note is that the incident occurs on the Sabbath. Those listening to the gospel would have immediately understood the sensitivities of this time of the week and the sort of strictures that applied to behaviour on that day.

Thirdly we need to look at the characters in the story – Jesus, the woman, the leader of the synagogue and the crowds. Jesus’ actions are censured by the synagogue leader but cause rejoicing by the crowds. The woman is an outsider, excluded from society by her condition. The leader of the synagogue takes the place of the scribes and Pharisees as the opponent to Jesus. His role is to ensure the reading and teaching of the law. In the story his place is to critique Jesus’ behaviour in relation to the law, which in turn allows Jesus to interpret scripture in such a way that he is able to reveal the true nature of the kingdom.

A fourth point to note is the action.  Jesus and the woman are in the synagogue. Jesus is teaching, he is the centre of attention. The woman is no one special. She is not seeking Jesus’ attention or looking for healing. However, Jesus notices the woman and calls her to him. In so doing, he brings the woman into the centre of the scene thus making her the focal point of the action. Symbolically Jesus brings the outsider to the centre. The one who was excluded in now included – she is identified (restored) as a daughter of Abraham..

Finally the context makes it clear that the healing of the woman on the Sabbath is not primarily a story about healing or even a conflict story. The story is situated between a between a series of warnings about the coming end and the urgency of responding on one side and the parables about the mustard seed and the yeast on the other. In fact the parables belong with the story as is indicated by the “therefore” which introduces them.

What we have then is something like this. Jesus is in the synagogue on the Sabbath when a bent over woman attracts his attention. He calls her over to him and sets her free from her ailment – from the power that binds her. The synagogue leader fulfills his legitimate role by reminding the crowd how the Sabbath should be observed. He points out that the woman’s condition is not life-threatening. She has been bent over for eighteen years. It is not unreasonable to point out that the people have six other days on which they can seek healing.

Jesus responds to the synagogue leader with his own interpretation of the law, based on the same text – Deuteronomy 5:13 and 14 in which the prohibition against work refers not only to humans but also to animals. “³For six days you shall labour and do all your work. ¹⁴But the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you, or your son or your daughter, or your male or female slave, or your ox or your donkey, or any of your livestock, or the resident alien in your towns, so that your male and female slave may rest as well as you.” Using a rabbinic technique of lesser to greater, Jesus make a number of parallel statements to illustrate the point that not only is it not against the law to heal on the Sabbath, but that it is absolutely appropriate that the woman should be liberated from her bondage on this day.

Based on the fact that animals are allowed to be untied on the Sabbath and allowed to walk to water, Jesus asks: If an animal can be unbound on the Sabbath, why not the woman – this daughter of Abraham? If an animal bound for only a few hours, why not this woman who has been bound for 18 years? If an animal can be set free on the Sabbath (as well as the other six days) why not loose the woman’s bonds on the Sabbath? Jesus’ argument not only illustrates his point, but also serves to expose the hypocrisy (and ignorance) of the synagogue leader and all whose interpretation of scripture is as limited as his. They interpret scripture in a way that binds. Jesus’ interpretation is one that liberates. Again we are taken back to Jesus’ announcement in Nazareth: “I have come to proclaim release to the captives.”

Jesus’ teaching in action is reinforced in the parables which follow: “Therefore, ‘What is the kingdom of God like?” It is like a mustard seed, which when thrown carelessly into the garden grows with wild abandon, or the yeast which produces effects beyond the expectation for something its size. Jesus catches his audience off-balance – mustard seed and yeast are strange images to use for a royal dominion. At the same time the wildness of the mustard seed contrasts with the orderliness of the synagogue and the domestic imagery of yeast sits uneasily with the male-dominated interpretation of the law.

Seen in its context, Luke’s account is quite subversive. Jesus has warned about the imminent coming of the kingdom. Now he moves to reveal the revolutionary nature of that kingdom. Jesus’ healing of the woman demonstrates that the coming of the kingdom will see the defeat of the cosmic forces which conspire against him. By setting the story in the synagogue and on the Sabbath, Luke explodes the current interpretation of the law and thus of the nature of the kingdom. The addition of the parables of the mustard seed and the yeast demonstrates that the kingdom of God cannot be contained by the limited imagination of the synagogue leaders or by the narrow interpretation of scripture or by the law. God’s healing power cannot be confined to certain times and places. Compassion cannot be constrained by a set of legal requirements. The kingdom of God is about liberation and restoration. It is wild and uncontrollable and its effect extends far beyond our capacity to imagine it.

Luke’s message is this – the coming kingdom will be unsettling and disturbing to all those who try to live their lives according to set patterns and behaviours. It will upset all those who think that they already have the answers. It will raise up the downtrodden and the arrogant will be put in their proper place. Those who are bound by societal expectations, by disease or infirmity will be set free. This is not a breaking of the law, but a radical understanding of the same.

A woman set free from 18 years of infirmity illustrates liberation from cosmic powers and the freedom, generosity and pervasiveness of the kingdom.

Pentecost 11

Luke 12:32-40

Marian Free

In the name of God, in whom is our only certainty. Amen.

“We, without a future,

Safe, defined, delivered

Now salute you God.

Knowing that nothing is safe,

Secure inviolable here.

Except you,

And even that eludes our minds at times.”[1] (A portion of a poem by Anna McKenzie in a book by Sheila Cassidy.)

Sheila Cassidy is an Australian doctor. She wanted to become a plastic surgeon but found the hours required impossible. Instead she went to Chile during the time of Salvador Allende. In 1975, she became a victim of the Pinochet regime. Her medical training meant that she was unable to refuse to help to anyone in need. One night she gave aid to an opponent of Pinochet who was being sought by police. Though she was not a formally a member of the opposition, her act of kindness led to her arrest, imprisonment and torture.

The poem is reproduced in one of her books, and while I know nothing of the author, it speaks to me of someone coming out of an experience as ghastly as Cassidy’s. Someone who has discovered that nothing in this life – status, profession, nationality, innocence – can completely protect one from the horrors of injustice, de-personalisation or torture. Nothing can protect one from terminal illness, natural disaster or acts of terror. The author of the poem has experienced the most dreadful trauma and has come out the other side realizing that the only thing on which she can truly depend is God.

Fortunately, in this nation we escape the worst traumas of human existence. War has barely touched our shores. Our country’s wealth and nature resources combined with our stable political system mean that victims of natural disaster can receive timely help. Our democratic government means that we can speak our minds without fear of reprisal. Our legal system ensures that we are innocent until proven guilty, that we cannot be arbitrarily imprisoned and that we must have a fair trial.

Most of us (thankfully) have no conception of what it might be like to live in constant fear of arrest and torture. Most of us have not been trapped for years in refugee camps – terrified to return home. Most of us have not been forced to watch our children die of starvation. Most of us have not known what it is like to wait for days for help to reach us after an earthquake or flood. Most of us have not known what it is to wake each day wondering if today will be the day you happen to be in the same place as a suicide bomber.

Most of us have been relatively protected from the worst that human existence has to offer, but that does not mean that we do not have real fears of our own. We have fears relative to our own situation. In this country we fear for our health, our finances and our children.  We fear what will happen if our partner dies or if we lose our job. The problem is that no matter how much we worry, no matter how much we do to try to protect ourselves, no matter how many vitamins we take, how much we exercise we do how much wealth we amass, we still remain vulnerable to trauma, disaster and ultimately to death.

In chapter 12 of Luke’s gospel, Jesus is pointing out these harsh realities to his disciples and encouraging them to trust in the only thing that matters – eternity. If we were to read the chapter in its entirety we would see that it is divided into sections dealing with fear (both false fear and salutary fear[2]) and security (both reliable and unreliable).

Looking ahead to a time when the disciples will face persecution, Jesus advises them that rather than being afraid of those who might be able to kill the body, they should be afraid spending eternity without God. This is followed by the assurance that God will be with them in even the most difficult situation – after all God sees the sparrow fall, and the disciples are more valuable than the sparrow.

Jesus continues with the parable of the rich fool – the farmer who thinks that his good crop will provide him with years of comfort. The farmer has forgotten that he does not have control over the length of his days. All his preparations for the future come to nothing, because at the very point at which he feels secure in his physical well-being, his life is brought to an end. Earthly wealth may temporarily allay fear, Jesus suggests, but it does not provide true and lasting security. In the long run possessions cannot keep you safe from harm or guarantee eternal life.

This salutary lesson is followed by a long section about the foolishness of worry. “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. ²³For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing” and so on. The rich farmer relied on his wealth instead of finding his true security in God – God whose attention to detail is such that he even clothes the lilies of the field.

Jesus caps off the argument by demonstrating how foolish and short sighted it is to live a life dominated by fear: “it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” That being the case, why would anyone worry about anything in this life?

God has already given us everything that we need – our future, our eternal future is absolutely secure. All that we have to do is to receive the gift which God so generously offers, is to place our trust in the eternal rather than the temporal, to understand that no amount of material security and, no amount of defensive or protective behaviour, can keep us completely safe from harm in this life. In this life, nothing is certain, nothing is secure, nothing is forever. For that reason, Jesus urges us to trust in God to give us strength, courage, fortitude and resignation in this life, and to place all our confidence in the life to come – a life which cannot be shaken by any force, cannot be limited by ill-health, misfortune or sorrow and cannot be taken from us. Confidence in the life to come brings security, peace and happiness in the present because we know that for eternity we with finally enjoy perfect security, perfect peace and perfect happiness.

Why would we place our trust in anything sure?

---

[1] a portion of a poem by Anna McKenzie, quoted in full in the Appendix to Good Friday People. Sheila Cassidy, Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1991.

[2] Byrne’s words. Byrne, Brendan The Hospitality of God:A Reading of Luke’s Gospel. Collegeville, Minnesota:St Paul’s Press, 2006:114.