Swallowsrest

Pentecost 10

Luke 12:13-21

Marian Free

In the name of God in whose love is all the security we need. Amen.

The author of Luke’s gospel has quite a deal to say about money. It is Luke who makes it explicit that the disciples leave everything and follow him and Luke’s picture of the early church in Acts is one in which members sell everything and give the proceeds to the church (with disastrous results for those who withhold anything). For the author of Luke, discipleship quite clearly means complete trust in God. Unfortunately for us, the lectionary doesn’t allow us to put today’s gospel in context. Last week, we were looking at prayer, this week we are propelled forward into the prophetic teaching of Jesus without the advantage of any lead up. On its own, the parable is a condemnation of the accumulation of wealth, but the context gives the parable a much broader meaning.

The parable of the rich man does not occur in isolation. In chapters 11-14, Luke places Jesus’ teaching about the end and about judgement. As he turns to face Jerusalem, Jesus is aware that his own time is near. He has a sense of urgency about preparing those around him to be ready for the end (whether it is close at hand or a long way off). Being prepared for the end in Jesus’ view begins, by placing all one’s trust in God. He suggests that if believers trust God with their present (as indeed he does), they can be confident of their future. Awareness of the end and of judgement pervades Christian thought – the idea that we are accountable for what we do in this life plays an important role in determining how we live our lives. At the same time, awareness that life is finite reminds us that it is how we live now that is important – tomorrow may be too late – to do the right thing, to tell someone we love them, to exercise forgiveness, to place our trust in God.

Jesus’ teaching about judgement and the end is not meant to terrify, or hold us in its thrall – just the opposite. The Pharisees come in for some harsh criticism – for their hypocrisy, for pre-occupation with the external, for their concentration on minute details of the law while ignoring the broader issues of justice and mercy and for seeking attention for themselves. Jesus’ disciples on the other hand are given encouragement and confidence. They need not be afraid, God who does not forget the sparrows knows the number of hairs on their heads. Even in the face of persecution, God will not abandon them, but will give them what it is they are to say.

Trust in the present, provides security for the future: “do not fear those who can kill the body and after that can do nothing more”. If believers can place all their trust in God, then they have nothing to fear in this life or the next. This is illustrated by the parable in today’s gospel.

Jesus’ teaching is interrupted by an onlooker who want Jesus to arbitrate on matters of family inheritance. Jesus will not be drawn into the dispute, but he takes advantage of the question to press home the point that he is making – that trust in the present relates to security in the future. Jesus criticizes the questioner for his greed and for his dependence on “abundance of possessions” He illustrates his point with the parable of the successful farmer, who, on having produced abundantly can only think of how to store up his wealth, and who relies on his wealth for his future security. No amount of wealth however can provide the landowner with life. His death demonstrates that he has been pre-occupied with the wrong things. He was worried about how to store the grain for himself. He was not at all concerned with sharing from his abundance and his determination to build bigger store houses demonstrated his failure to trust God with his future.

Trust in God becomes the focus of the next section of teaching in which Jesus instructs the disciples not to worry about their lives, what they will eat and what they will wear – worry will not add even a single hour to their lives. Trust in God is the only security that a believer needs and in the end, trust in and dependence on God is the only security that is real.

The landowner’s problem was not that he was rich, but that he looked to his wealth to hedge himself around, to provide a secure future for himself not realizing that placing one’s trust worldly possessions is foolish. As the parable demonstrates, no amount of worldly possessions can protect one from harm. If we believe that we can use wealth or any other earthly form of security to keep us safe from the vagaries of the world, then we are placing our trust in the wrong place and it is likely that, like the man in the parable we will be caught out when we least expect it and when we are least prepared.

If, on the other hand, we have entrusted our future to God, we will not be distracted or absorbed by trying to escape or avoid the realities of this life only to discover that ultimately such escape is beyond our control. If our relationship with God comes first, we will be grateful for but not dependent on wealth and other forms of worldly security. If our relationship with God determines how we approach this life, not only will discover the strength and confidence to face any difficulties that lie in our paths, we will also be prepared for the relationship with God that outlasts this life.

As he turns his face to Jerusalem and his own certain torture and death, Jesus tries to encourage his follows to trust God with their present and their future. Nothing in this life is certain or permanent. The only thing that is true for eternity is our relationship with God. Instead of placing our faith in the things that do not last, let us place our trust in the things that endure for ever.

Pentecost 9

Luke 11:1-13

Marian Free

In the name of God who speaks peace to those who turn to him in their hearts. Amen.

The disciples said: “Lord, teach us to pray.” I wonder how you were taught to pray. I have a few very clear memories of my early education in prayer. When I was very young, my mother would come in to say “good night” and to pray with my sister and I. How well I remember the times that my sister and I would compete with each other to see how many and how varied were the things for which we would give thanks –  “the moon”, “the stars”, “the universe” we would call out as we gazed out of the window and strove to outdo each other with our thankfulness. I remember too the more dignified times when we would use the words of prayers written especially for children. My favourite which, sadly, I have long since forgotten, was one printed on a card sent to me by my favourite great aunt and stuck to the wall beside my bed.

When I was eleven a religious instruction teacher taught me a way of praying that was to influence – and sadly stultify – my prayer life for years. Using her (my) hand as a guide she taught the class that we should pray for the world, the church, the community, the sick and lastly – holding up the littlest and most insignificant finger – to pray for ourselves. Her point being that we shouldn’t think of ourselves. There is nothing wrong with this type of praying. It is very similar to the formula that we use week after week in our liturgy. For me, however, there were a number of problems with this form of prayer, the most important being that it didn’t really suit, or satisfy me. Of course, praying for others is one aspect of prayer, but this particular form of praying did not inform my knowledge of God or serve to deepen my relationship with God. At the same time, by suggesting that the self was not important, it actually prevented any attempt to think about myself in relationship with God. Thankfully, I have since learned that there are a great many ways in which to pray – some of which suit and some of which do not.

Last week, as a way to try to understand the difference between the frazzled Martha and the absorbed Mary, those of us who were here learned a very particular way of being totally present to Jesus. (If you weren’t here you can ask someone to tell you about the sultana or check the website.) Of course there are many and varied ways of paying attention to God – of making space for God in our lives. Praying for others or intercessions is one way to pray as we seek to share God’s compassion for the world. However, in order to pay attention to God, we need to listen as well. If we do all the talking then we will never hear what it is that God has to say to us. As the Psalmist reminds us today: ⁸ “Let me hear what God the Lord will speak,
for he will speak peace to his people,
to his faithful, to those who turn to him in their hearts.^*(Ps 85)”

Listening to God means paying attention to all the ways in which God tries to communicate with us. There are a number of ways in which we can try to hear what God is saying to us. We can listen to God by deliberately setting aside time to be quiet, by making space in our lives, by being fully present to whatever we are doing or whatever is going on around us, by meditating or by conscientiously looking for evidence of God’s presence in our relationships, in our work and in other aspects of a day to day living. Each of us has to find our own pattern, our own way of listening, and our own way of relating. It is important to find the pattern which suits us rather than to squeeze ourselves into a form of prayer that is forced and unfruitful.

For example, I know of people who rise early in the morning as they find that is the only time that they can pray without distraction. Praying in the morning means that they do not get to the end of the day and discover that they have not made the time to pray. There are others whose entire day is spent in conversation with Jesus. Jesus is their constant companion to whom they pour out their thoughts, hopes and frustrations. A friend of mine has developed the habit of making the sign of the cross at times throughout the day.  He has a busy schedule and that simple gesture helps to remind him that God is always present. It helps him to pause, if only briefly and focus on that presence. Many of us, taught well by our parents still cannot close our eyes at night unless we have offered up a prayer to God.

Today’s gospel is often taken out of context to imply that if only we pray hard enough and long enough, God will answer our prayer. It occurs to me that it may be saying something quite different. Prayer is not so much about getting what we want, as it is about finding out what it is that God wants. This become clear in verse 13 where Jesus says: “¹³If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit^* to those who ask him!” The gift we receive when we pray is not necessarily a shopping trolley full of answered requests but the gift of God’s presence – the Holy Spirit.

Understood in this we see that the fruit of a lifetime of prayer is not wealth and security or the absence of trouble, but a life filled with the presence of God. The benefits of prayer are demonstrated in the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, ²³gentleness, and self-control. Through prayer we develop a deep trust in God which overrides any anxieties or fears and which satisfies all our needs.

Luke’s account of Martha and Mary, and Luke’s commendation of the way in which Mary is able to give Jesus her full attention, leads very naturally into the disciples’ request: “Lord, teach us to pray.” Jesus does this in the very familiar words that we know as the Lord’s prayer. This leads Jesus to an instruction on how to persevere in prayer. We are told not to give up when it seems as though there is no response to our prayer, or when our prayer life seems arid and empty. We are to keep on seeking and knocking, knowing that God who loves us more than we can know will respond by being present in us through the Holy Spirit, guiding us through the vicissitudes of this life. We are called to be persistent in our prayer – to seek, to ask and to knock so that we will receive the gift that God has promised and so that our lives are filled with the presence of God.

Through prayer we become more aware of the awesomeness of God (hallowed be your name), through prayer we develop an attitude of openness and expectancy towards God (thy will be done), through prayer we develop our trust in and dependence on God (give us today our daily bread), through prayer we learn more and more of the nature and compassion of God (forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us), through prayer we align ourselves with the power of God for good, we strengthen our resolve and in turn are strengthened to face whatever life might throw at us (save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil)..

Pentecost 8

Luke 10:38-42

Marian Free

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

Over the last few weeks as our attention has been drawn to the beautiful windows in this church, I have become conscious how little attention I have given to them. I suspect that when many of us come into this amazing building, we are distracted by many things – the task that we have to do, the people with whom we want to catch up, the affairs of the week just been, the worries of the week to come. I don’t imagine that many of us bring our full attention not only to the place, but to the task (or should it be privilege) of worship.

Today I’d like us to do an exercise which I learned from a friend of mine who is both a psychologist and an Anglican priest. It will give you some idea of what it mans to be fully focused[1]. Please take a raisin as they are passed around. Then sitting quietly, I’d like you to imagine that you have come to earth from Mars and that you have never seen this object before.

Take the object (raisin) and hold it in the palm of your hand, or between your finger and thumb.

Pay attention to seeing it.

Look at it carefully, as if you had never seen such a thing before.

Turn it over between your fingers.

Explore its texture between your fingers.

Examine the highlights where the light shines … the darker hollows and folds.

Let your eyes explore every part of it, as if you had never seen such a thing before.

And if, while your are doing this, any thoughts come to mind about “what a strange thing we are doing” or “what is the point of this” just note them as thoughts and bring your awareness back to the object.

Now smell the object, take it and hold it beneath your nose, and with each in breath, carefully notice the smell of it.

Now take another look at it.

Now slowly take the object to your mouth, maybe noticing how your hand and arm know exactly where to put it, perhaps noticing your mouth watering as it comes up.

And then gently place the object in your mouth, noticing how it is “received”, without biting it, just exploring the sensation of having it in your mouth.

And when you are ready, very consciously take a bite into it and notice the taste that it releases.

Slowly chew it, ….  notice the saliva in the mouth, … the change in consistency of the object.

Then when you feel ready to swallow, see if you can first detect the intention to swallow as it comes up, so that even this is experienced consciously before you actually swallow it.

Finally, see if you can follow the sensations of swallowing it, seeing it moving down to [2]your stomach, and also realizing that your body is now exactly one raisin heavier.

I imagine that you have never experienced a raisin in quite that way before! You can apply this sort focus to any task. Next time you have a cup of tea try to be fully present – paying attention to the cup, the heat, the feel of the tea on your lips, in your mouth, as you swallow. You can do this sort of exercise at any time in any place – simply by giving your whole attention to the task at hand rather than being only partially present.

In today’s gospel, Jesus doesn’t berate Martha for being busy, but for being distracted. Martha, the host, is so caught up in her preparations, so concerned with providing an excellent meal for Jesus, that rather than being a good host, she is ignoring her guest. Worse still, Martha, instead of providing a comfortable, welcoming environment for Jesus is trying to draw him into her stress. Martha is not able to focus on what she is Mary’s “better part” is her ability to give Jesus her full attention, to be fully present to what is happening.

I wonder what sort of hosts we are. Do we give Jesus our full attention or are we only partially aware of his presence, constantly distracted by other things? How might our relationship with Jesus change if we were open and alert to his presence, fully attending to his place in our lives?

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[1]If you are reading this, you might like to find a friend to read the instructions to you. (Then you could swap.) If no friend is available, read the instructions to yourself and then spend some time focusing totally on your raisin. As you will see as you continue reading, this is an exercise that can be done at any time. Next time you have a cup of tea, focus totally on that experience – don’t sit down with a book, or with the television on – give your full attention to the act of drinking the tea. You might begin by looking at the cup, at the steam rising. Then you could think of the feel of the china as you pick up the cup – the weight of it in your hands, the feel of it on your lips. As you take a sip, feel the heat on your tongue, the dampness as it fills your mouth and finally be aware of the movement of your muscles as your body moves the tea from your mouth to your stomach. Be aware of moving the cup from your mouth to the table and so on until the tea is finished. Or you could give your full attention to simply the act of sitting – being aware of your body in the space it occupies, being fully present to everything you do rather than distracted by what has just happened or what will happen next. (Don’t worry if thoughts come into you mind – as they will – simply notice them and let them go and then return to the exercise.)

[2] Based on Kabat-Zinn, in Segal, Zindel V., Williams, J.Mark G., Teasdale, John D. Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy for Depression: A New Approach to Preventing Relapse. London:The Guilford Press, 2002: 103.

Pentecost 8

Luke 10:25-37

Marian Free

In the name of God who shocks us out of our complacency so that we might see the world in a new and different way. Amen.

During the week I caught the end of a programme called The Gruen Transfer, in which a panel of experts critique advertisements and discuss the art of selling a product. I don’t know about you, but I love a good ad. I think that a well-executed advertisement is a testament to ingenuity as well as being interesting and fun to watch. As part of the programme each week two advertising companies are give the task to sell the unsellable. The challenge last week was to promote a huge international energy company Petroleum Brilliance which was responsible for a huge undersea oil leak! It sounds like an impossible task, but both companies did an amazing job. The first company decided that PB were not the bad guys but the good guys who were generous and altruistic. They tried to sell this message by showing how the oil spill was creating jobs, building communities AND sharing 60,000 barrels of oil a day with those less fortunate. The ad concludes: “PB – Let’s share the spoil”.

The second company looked for a truth to sell and a credible spokesperson to promote the message. They found the latter in Tim Flannery the Chair of the Copenhagen Climate Council. In their footage they had short visuals of the devastation followed by Tim Flannery saying “brilliant!”. The ad concluded with pictures of small clean cars and a voice-over saying: “We are driving the world to environmentally clean energy sources.” (The idea being that the horror of the spill was leading vast numbers of people to rethink their use of energy.) (Google “iview” and look for Panel and Discussion, Gruen Transfer, Series 3, Episode 4, fast forward to 17:26).

Both ads were very clever, but they were also shocking – “brilliant” and “devastating oil spill” are ideas that DO NOT go together. Even though I could admire the mastery of the ads, I still found the pitch utterly offensive. An event which has such destructive and horrendous long term consequences as the Florida oil spill cannot be brilliant no matter which way you look at it.

For the first century Jew, “good” and “Samaritan” were as offensive as “brilliant” and “oil spill” are today.  Hostility between Jews and Samaritans went back as far as the exile to Babylon. Such was the antagonism between the two that a Jew would travel miles out of his way rather than pass through Samaria, contact with a Samaritan would leave one ritually unclean and Jews viewed the Samaritan religion with utter contempt.

It is difficult to think of an Australian example of a Samaritan and therefore to retell the story in such a way that it would have the impact that Jesus originally intended. There are three main problems. First of all the parable is contextual – in order for it to make sense we first have to understand the situation between the Jews and the Samaritans. We also have to understand the Jewish laws of ritual cleanliness to understand why it is that the priest and the Levite not only avoid the injured man, but need to avoid him. Secondly, the parable of the Good Samaritan has been so misrepresented and misinterpreted that we often miss the primary point which is to make us rethink the question; “according to the law, who is our neighbour?”. Thirdly, we have become so familiar with the parable and so used to our interpretation of it that it has lost its sting – it would have been impossible for a Jew to imagine a Samaritan as a hero. The conclusions to the parable would have stunned Jesus’ listeners.

The parable that we know as the “Good Samaritan” is Jesus’ attempt to confront stereotypes and prejudices and to challenge a particular way of seeing the world. If a Samaritan can be a neighbour then anything is possible. You can imagine the lawyer and Jesus other listeners. As the story unfolds they would have been sympathetic to the priest and the Levite because, unlike us, they would have understood the law which says to the priests: “No one shall defile himself for a dead person among his relatives, except for his nearest kin. (Lev 21:1) and “The priest who is exalted above his fellows shall not go near where there is a dead body; he shall not defile himself even for his father or his mother (Lev 21:11). Had the priest or Levite gone to the aid of the injured or dying man, they would have been contaminated, worse still, it would have meant breaking the law which bound all observant Jews.

In the parable, Jesus exposes the limitations of the law. The law did not allow the good, law-abiding Jews to go to the aid of the dying man. The lawyer with whom Jesus is in debate knows the law – “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself.” It is in response to the lawyer’s question; “Who is my neighbour?” that Jesus tells the parable. By making the Samaritan the hero, Jesus reveals that the interpretation of the law has, until now, restricted the definition of neighbour. Until now, all good Jews had been able to excuse themselves from any relationship with the undeserving, unclean, Lawless Samaritans.

At the same time, the parable exposes the law as flawed – instead of resulting in good it actually leads to harm. The injured man is left to die. A literal interpretation of the law has turned out to be a misinterpretation. Love of neighbour which presumes to define who neighbour is, has been shown to be not love at all – a law which prevents a person from going to someone’s aid contradicts and even opposes the law of love.

The problem with all laws is that they are bound by history and culture and they are open to interpretation. Overtime laws need to be re-examined, re-interpreted, re-written and even dismantled. Laws that are devoid of compassion, love and understanding lead to more harm than good. Laws that protect the interests of one group and limit the potential of another group do not reflect the spirit of the gospel. Laws that prevent one person or group from helping another are life-denying rather than life-giving.

Jesus reveals that it is the spirit of the law, not the letter of the law which is important. What will see us through, and lead to our salvation is an understanding of the depth of God’s love for us and for others, a willingness to be led by the Holy Spirit, an openness to God’s new revelations in every generation, a determination to wrestle with God’s word until we truly understand it and a resolution to: “love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself” without argument, without definition and without limit.

Pentecost 5

Luke 9:51-62

Marian Free

In the name of God who asks that we love him with all our hearts, our souls, our minds and our strength and that we love our neighbour as ourselves. Amen.

Three potential disciples, three unexpected, almost callous responses. What was Jesus thinking? What is going on here?

The first person offers to follow Jesus wherever he goes – a generous offer and, one would think, a sign of great faith. Instead of commending the person, or showing any gratitude, Jesus responds by pointing out that he has nowhere to go.  The second person is asked to follow Jesus. When he (quite reasonably) says: “first let me go and bury my father”. Jesus retorts: “Let the dead bury their own dead.” Lastly, another person offers to follow Jesus – after he has said ‘goodbye’ to his family. This time Jesus says: “‘No one who puts a hand to the plough and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God”.

It makes one wonder – does Jesus want anyone to follow him? He sets the bar so high and makes such unreasonable demands. Instead of welcoming, he berates those who want to be disciples and he questions how genuine their response to him is.

Does this mean that the only way to be disciples is to be homeless and to completely abandon one’s family and one’s responsibility? The latter almost certainly can’t be true as elsewhere Jesus criticises the Pharisees for neglecting their duty to their families.

It is possible that Jesus is just having a bad day. After all, Luke has just told us that the days were drawing near for him to be taken up. Jesus has set his face towards Jerusalem. He has begun a journey to what he knows will be his death. That alone would make anyone impatient with those who didn’t understand the implications of what he was doing. Jesus is making it clear that being his disciple is not going to be easy – it involves commitment, courage and single-mindedness. Discipleship is not comfortable and there are costs to be borne.

It is reasonable to assume that Jesus speaks so harshly because he is conscious of his own destiny, and because he wants these would-be followers to understand to what they are committing themselves. His demands are shocking because he wants these potential disciples to focus their minds on what they are doing. Are they acting on the spur of the moment, or are they truly committed to Jesus mission? Are they looking for short-term fulfillment, or are they interested in sticking with Jesus for the long haul?

Jesus is being confrontational to help these people be clear about what they are doing. Are they ready and willing to make the sacrifices that discipleship requires? Are they seeking the values of the kingdom or are they still bound by human institutions and human expectations? Do they understand that following Jesus means adopting a new set of values, measuring themselves and their actions against the expectations of God and not by human standards? Do they realise that following Jesus is a matter of all or nothing – one is either a follower or one is not.

Jesus asks the disciples to leave everything and follow him. Jesus asks the same of us.

The wonder of it all is this: if we make Jesus our first priority, if we value following Jesus above all else, if we seek first the kingdom of God; everything else will fall into place. Our relationship with the world, with our families and our friends will not be diminished but enhanced because it will be informed by our relationship with God. Our fathers can be buried, our familes farewelled, we do not have to feel guilty about a warm bed and a roof over our head, but all that we do will be seen from the perspective of faith and we will be the richer for it.

When we give our whole lives to God, we discover that we lose nothing and gain everything.

Pentecost 3 2010

Galatians

Marian Free

In the name of God who sets us free to live. Amen.

9 Charlton St

Hamilton 4007

13^th June, 2010

Dear X,

I am writing to set you straight on a number of matters………

Yours sincerely (or should it be faithfully?),

Marian Free

Rector

When Paul writes a letter, he does just that. Just as we have (or have had) standard forms for writing different sorts of letters – job applications, wedding invitations and so on – so too the Greeks had standard forms of letter-writing. A letter usually consisted of three parts – an address, body (which included the major theme of the letter) and farewell. The address generally consisted of the sender, the addressees and a greeting. These would be followed by a Thanksgiving, which would create a favourable reception for the letter.

The letter to the Galatians follows this pattern. Paul begins, “Paul an apostle—sent neither by human commission nor from human authorities, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father, who raised him from the dead— ²and all the members of God’s family who are with me, To the churches of Galatia: 3 Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, ⁴who gave himself for our sins to set us free from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father, ⁵to whom be the glory for ever and ever. Amen.”

This tells us that Paul claims the authority of an apostle and that he is writing to more than one church. The greeting gives us a clue as to what is to follow. Our attention is drawn to the fact that his apostleship comes directly from God, not from human authorities – what he has to say has divine imprimatur. We might also suspect that the letter will have something to say about Christian freedom.

Most notable is the absence of a thanksgiving. Apparently Paul has nothing about which to be thankful. Instead of saying: “I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus,” as he does in the letter to the Corinthians, Paul moves straight into the language of censure: “I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you in the grace of Christ”. Paul is disappointed to the point of fury with the members of the community in Galatia.

It is difficult to reconstruct a situation that relates to such a distant past, but we surmise that Paul went to Galatia to preach a law-free gospel. Some time later, another teacher insisted that only those who submitted to the law (as well as Christ) coul be saved. This teaching so convinced the Galatians that they were considering the drastic step of circumcision – proof that they are willing to live under the law. Paul was livid. He was so angry that he wrote: “I wish those who unsettle you would castrate themselves!” Paul’s depth of feeling is understandable; he was convinced that salvation was God’s free gift to those who believe. Circumcision implied faith in the law and not in God. Further, it was impossible to keep every aspect of the law. If a believer tried to keep the law they would fail. Worse still, the Galatians attempt to gain salvation by their own efforts would make a mockery of Jesus’ death which has achieved their salvation for them.

In both the letter to the Galatians and the letter to the Romans, Paul defends his conviction that those who believe in Jesus are justified by faith and not by anything that they do. The life of a believer is determined by the Holy Spirit and not by adherence to the law (which Paul associates with sin and death). This, Paul claims, is not a novel idea. In fact is as old as Abraham. Four hundred and thirty years before the law was given to Moses, Abraham was justified on the basis of his faith. This means, Paul tells us, that anyone who believes – Jew or Gentile – is made right with God. Abraham did not need the law in order to be justified, so the Galatians can be confident that their faith in God is sufficient for their salvation. Faith without the law leads to justification. The law, without faith, does not.

The gospel Paul preaches is a gospel of freedom – from the law, from sin and from death. “For freedom, Christ has set us free” (5:1), he exclaims. He cannot understand why when they have known the freedom he offered that the Galatians would submit themselves to slavery. The teachers who have followed Paul have unsettled the Galatians and undermined their confidence in the freedom Paul proclaimed.

It is easy to see how they could be seduced by the certainty and clarity of the law. Freedom is a difficult concept to grasp. Freedom doesn’t give guidelines on how to live; nor does it measure performance against some pre-determined guidelines. Freedom is too vague and illusive to be trusted. Like ourselves, the Galatians wanted to know what was right and what was wrong so that they had an assurance that they were doing what was right. Paul knows that this is a false assurance. Dependence on the law, leads to independence from God. The law is so far from being the answer that it crucified Jesus.

The cross shattered all the categories and definitions by which Paul had lived. He discovered that nothing was as he had thought it was. If the law, on which he had based his life and his behaviour, had led to the death of Jesus it could not be trusted. Paul was forced to place his trust solely in God rather than rely on human endeavour. He learned that, like Jesus, he had to submit his will to God’s – dying to self and allowing Christ to live in him. “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me”. Paul had to leave behind his self-assurance and his independence. He had to die to everything that was not of God and open the way for the Holy Spirit (not the law) to direct and lead him.

On its own law will never be able to make us truly holy or perfect. We simply cannot legislate for love, joy, peace, gentleness. Laws can stop us from being bad, but they cannot force us to be truly good. True goodness, like true beauty comes from deep within. True holiness is part or who we are, not a veneer which we can use to cover up our imperfections. We cannot achieve true godliness simply by avoiding ungodliness. True godliness is achieved when we hand our lives over to God and allow God to take control of our lives. True holiness is gained when we let go of our egos and allow the Holy Spirit to determine how we live. We become Christ-like when we die to ourselves so that Christ may live in us.

For many of us, just as for the Galatians freedom from the law is an absolutely terrifying precept. Like the Galatians, many of us find it easier to obey rules than to be ruled by the Spirit. We are tempted to try to earn our own salvation, to rely on our own efforts rather than to trust God’s love for us and to have confidence that faith (not works) is all that it takes.

Faith or law, trust or independence – we can try to find our own way to God, or believe that God has already found us. Our salvation depends on the choice we make.

2nd Sunday after Pentecost – 2010

Luke 7:11-24

Marian Free

In the name of God who, in Jesus, brings healing, forgiveness and life to all. Amen.

During the week I watched a programme which followed the lives of a number of families who had broken free from a cult. The programme exposed the damage that can occur when controlling, judging and demanding leaders make the members of their congregations dependent on them. It also revealed the difficulty cult members had in letting go of a script in their head which says: “You are bad, if you don’t do what the cult says, you will go to hell.” At a special counselling centre, the cult members faced what had happened to them and tried to start thinking on their own again.

Their stories filled me with sadness. All of them had been made to feel that their only hope of heaven was to be obedient to the Pastor who was the only one who knew the word of God. At the same time, this obedience seemed always just out of their grasp. One woman says: “I always felt that I couldn’t do anything right.” The consequences for not conforming meant punishment in the present life as well as for eternity. Worse still was the punishment that was meted out to the children who were often beaten black and blue and who had their hands placed on a hot stove so that they would know what hell was like. The members of the cult had been drawn in by the authority of the pastor. They were no longer able to think for themselves – not even able to distinguish right from wrong. They lost confidence in their own powers of reason, in fact they had lost all confidence in themselves, and because, of the violence they had inflicted on their own children, they no longer felt fit to be parents.

At the centre, counsellors gently encouraged them to critique their situation and over time helped them to see that their experience had been one of abuse not of the practice of faith. A telling moment in the healing process came when a counsellor asked one woman: “According to your Christian viewpoint, what is faith supposed to produce?” The woman responded by listing the fruits of the spirit: “love, joy, peace, long suffering.” The counsellor asked: “Is that what your experience has produced?” “No”, she said. “It kills, it destroys. It doesn’t give life. It doesn’t produce fruit.” At that moment it became clear to her, that what the Pastor had been teaching was a distortion of the Christian faith, not the Christian faith at all. The Pastor’s power over her had been destroyed and she was set free to judge what faith was and what it was not.

In today’s gospel, Jesus encounters a funeral procession for the only child of a widow. Filled with compassion, Jesus raises the boy to life and restores him to his mother. He turns death to life, sorrow to joy and despair to hope.

On the surface, this is a simple miracle story demonstrating Jesus’ power to raise the dead and placing him in the line of the great prophets Elijah and Elisha (both of whom brought back to life the sons of widows). Luke’s intention in telling this story is much more complex. His goal here is to demonstrate just what sort of Saviour Jesus is and who it is who can be saved. Luke wants to demonstrate that, contrary to expectation, Jesus is not a king, not a leader of armies, not even a judge, but a healer and reconciler. He does not come only to save those who have achieved a certain standard of behaviour, or those who blindly follow sets of rules, or who think that they understand God’s word. Through his accounts of healing and raising from the dead, Luke reveals that Jesus’ ministry is extended to all and especially to those who least expect it, and those who on first impression seem to least deserve it.

In its broader context, the account of the widow’s son falls between the Sermon on the Plain and John the Baptist’s question: “Are you the one who is to come?” Earlier in the gospel, Luke has described a number of incidents in which Jesus demonstrates God’s saving love and compassion – lepers are healed, the paralysed man is forgiven. Immediately before the story of the raising of the widow’s son, Luke recounts Jesus’ healing of the slave of a Roman centurion. Together, these two accounts reveal that Jesus has a special concern with the poor and the marginalized and that God’s plan of salvation is going to be extended beyond the boundaries of Israel.

Jesus’ behaviour leaves John the Baptist bewildered. John had proclaimed the advent of someone more powerful than he, who will separate the wheat from the chaff which he will burn with unquenchable fire. In Jesus’ life, however, he is confronted with someone who announces God’s forgiveness and who, instead of condemnation, brings healing and hope. Jesus’ response to John’s question about who he is, shows that Jesus is the fulfillment of a different type of expectation. He says, ‘Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news brought to them.”

The story of the raising of the widow’s son is part of Luke’s programme to reveal what sort of Christ Jesus is. Jesus knows nothing of the widow or her son. He doesn’t know how the son died, or whether the mother or the son were deserving of a miracle, he doesn’t ask that they have faith, or that they promise to amend their lives. Jesus sees someone in need and responds with love and compassion and in so doing brings the boy from death to life.

Jesus brings a message of liberation and hope to the poor, the marginalized and the vulnerable. He demonstrates God’s salvific love through the healing of the sick, the raising of the dead and the forgiveness of sins. His love and good will are not dependent on the previous good behaviour of the recipient, nor are they withdrawn when someone lets him down. He sets no preconditions for his love but extends it to all in need. Jesus’ healing, forgiveness, compassion and acceptance set people free to live. The message of the gospel is life-giving not life-denying. It doesn’t bind with guilt, or constrain with the threat of judgement. It doesn’t use force to restrict or confine, but gently liberates and expands our horizons. It doesn’t create self-doubt, but builds self-esteem. It relies on love, not fear, to draw out the best in everyone. As he raised he widow’s son, so Jesus will raise us to newness of life – often when we least expect it.

Pentecost 2010

John 14:8-17 , 25-27

Marian Free

In the name of God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier. Amen.

Language is an interesting and powerful phenomena. It is interesting because it is fluid and alive. Words that meant one thing 100 years ago can, today, mean something quite different. For example, the word “let” which we use to mean “allow, permit”, once meant “prevent or hinder”. Pedantics among us moan about the misuse of language and grammar, but our complaints will make no difference as language continues to move and change around us. Language is powerful because it both describes and defines our realty. We need to be careful with our language for this very reason. On the one hand, we try to ensure that the language we use is adequate to describe the world around us. On the other hand we try to make sure that language that we use doesn’t confine and restrict. What we rather crudely call “political correctness” is, in fact, an attempt not to limit people by the language we use.

For example, few of us today would call someone a “spastic” not only because that became a derogatory term but also because it presumes that their physical condition is all that there is to be known about them. We would now refer to a person with “cerebral palsy” – indicating that they are an individual with a variety of gifts and limitations. They are a person first and their disability is only one part of who they are.

Religious language is not sheltered from these sorts of developments and changes. Many of you will remember that there was a time when we spoke of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. In fact if you were to take a look at the Athenasian Creed at the back of the Prayer Book, you would see that the third person of the Trinity is called the Holy Ghost. I can’t remember when that turned to Holy Spirit, but I can remember a young curate making a joke about Casper the friendly Ghost as he tried to explain that perhaps spirit was a better word for the third person of the Trinity. Somehow, with the passage of  the years, the expression ghost became associated with supernatural beings and therefore less respectable as a term to be used for God.

Ghost or Spirit, the third person of the Trinity is also known as the Paraclete or Advocate as we see in today’s gospel. The early church experienced the Spirit in a variety of ways. The Spirit descended on Jesus like a dove at his baptism but at Pentecost, the Spirit descended on the disciples as tongues of fire. It seems that in the early days the Holy Spirit acted in a variety of ways to empower the disciples and to speak through them and for them. The Spirit provided gifts of leadership, teaching and administration as well as the more dramatic gifts of speaking in tongues and prophesying and was to be known through its fruits. It is through the Spirit that the disciples were able to say “Abba, Father”, and the Spirit interceded with sighs too deep for words for they did not know how to pray as they ought. Paul told the Corinthians that their bodies were the temple of the Holy Spirit.

Language does not seem adequate to completely capture the nature of the Holy Spirit and the experience of the early church.

John’s gospel sheds some light on this problem. As we have seen, chapters 13-17 of John’s gospel form Jesus’ farewell speech to the disciples. Jesus is preparing the disciples for his death and for their life without him. In today’s reading from that gospel, Jesus is reassuring the disciples that they will not be left alone when he goes – he will send them another Advocate to be with them forever. The Advocate – the Holy Spirit was not necessary while Jesus was with them, but now that Jesus is departing, the Holy Spirit will take his place – teaching the disciples and reminding them of everything that Jesus has said to them.

Though Jesus is to depart from the world, he will still be present with and in the disciples in the third person of the Trinity – the Holy Spirit, another Advocate, the spirit of truth. Future generations will not know Jesus in his human form, but they will continue to be guided and taught by the Holy Spirit whom the Father sends. In this way, the Spirit represents “the ongoing presence of the revelation of God in the world[1].”

John’s formulation is very Trinitarian. Jesus in his human form reveals the Father. When he can no longer be present in this way, the Holy Spirit continues the work of empowering and enabling the disciples to do the works that Jesus has done. The Spirit will dwell in the disciples just as the Father dwelt in Jesus. The disciples, those who believe in Jesus, in some way become part of the relationship between the three members of the Trinity. The Spirit will be in them, they will do the works that Jesus did, Jesus and the Father will be revealed through them.

Jesus has radically changed how we understand God. In the Old Testament God was known to be present in the fire and in the cloud, God spoke to the prophets and entered into debate with Abraham and Moses. In Jesus, however, God physically entered into the world. In the Holy Spirit God remains not only in the world but in each one of us. Our relationship with God is personal and intimate because of the presence of God within us. If we open ourselves to that presence, we will be led by the Holy Spirit in all that we do and say. If we allow the presence of God to work within us, then God’s presence will continue to be known to the world.

At different times in our lives our experience of the Spirit may be dramatic or it may be restrained. There may be times when we are aware of our hearts burning within us, times when we know the deep peace that Jesus promised, times when we are forced to depend on the Spirit because we have no other source of strength and times when the Spirit impels us to do things we did not think we could possibly do.

Jesus says that has not left us orphans. Neither has he left us powerless. He continues to be with us and in us through the Holy Spirit and he has empowered us to do not only the works that he has done, but greater works beside.

Just imagine how different the world would be if each of us took Jesus’ promise seriously and gave the Spirit reign in our lives to continue Jesus’ work in the world.

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[1] Moloney, Francis, J. The Gospel of John. Minnesota:The Liturgical Press,1998, 401.

Easter 7 – 2010

John 17:20-26

Marian Free

May God who is love dwell within us, Jesus who demonstrated God’s love inspire us, and the Holy Spirit who inspires us to love, unite us. Amen.

Today’s gospel concludes Jesus’ final discourse – the long speech which is designed to prepare the disciples for life without him and to equip them to build a community of faith. A key component of these last words is love. Jesus gives the disciples a new commandment: “to love one another, as I have loved you”. Jesus demonstrates this love by washing their feet and he will prove it on the cross. “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Jesus’ example of loving is to provide the basis for the new community – Jesus’ love for God, God’s love for Jesus, Jesus’ love for the disciples, God’s love for the disciples, their love for one another.

Love is crucial to the gospel, but it is a love which is more than relational. The love which Jesus commands is also missional. The love which Jesus shares with God makes God known. The love which the disciples share will make God known: “By this will others know that you are my disciples, that you have love one for another.”

Just as Jesus’ oneness with God is what makes God known to the disciples; the union between the disciples and Jesus is what will make Jesus known to the world – not only in the first generation, but to every generation yet to come. “that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world my know that you have sent me.” Jesus repeats this theme three times in these seven verses. Love unites God to Jesus, Jesus’ love unites God to the disciples, the disciples love for one another will unite the world to God. The oneness of the Father and Son is to be mirrored in the life of the disciples so that just as Jesus revealed God, so too will they.

This is it, the one command that Jesus gives, the command to love, will ensure the continuity of his revelation. If the disciples can emulate Jesus’ self-effacing, self-giving love, the gospel will be spread throughout the world without any obvious effort on their part. If the disciples, through their love, seek union with God, God will be made known through them.  It is all too easy – the gospel summed up in one word: “Love”.

This is the only thing that Jesus asked us to do – to love God and to love each other. He did not burden us with dogma. He did not impose on us hundreds of laws to be remembered and kept. He did not establish elaborate rituals for us to follow. He asked only that we love.

It is so simple and yet so hard. Throughout all the centuries since we have failed miserably to live by that one command. The community which formed in Jesus’ name has spent endless Councils and Synods arguing over minute details of belief and practice. Throughout the centuries the church has created codes of behaviour by which we are to live and established standards of morality and goodness against which we can be measured. At the same time has developed a variety of missionary strategies to attract people to the faith and has worried endlessly about whether or not future generations will believe.

From the very beginning, the community discovered how difficult it was to live by love alone. Because Jesus did not give specific instructions the early church found itself ill-equipped to deal with the question of Gentile believers – should they or should they not become Jews? If they did not become Jews what was the very minimum that should be required of them? Because Jesus did not leave behind an institution with codes of practice, we have struggled ever since to know who to include and who to exclude.

The very human need for clarity and certainty has meant that from the beginning, the command to love has been the command that has most easily and most often broken. In comparison the commandments which do not refer to love are much simpler to obey. Do not steal is clear. Do not bear false witness – we know what that means. Do not murder – few of us would even consider breaking that one.

Love is quite a different matter. For one thing it is too vague – it does not tell us what to do. For another it is too easy – surely God wants more from us than that? Love doesn’t give instructions in good or bad. Love doesn’t tell us who is in and who is out. Love doesn’t provide assurance that we are getting it right. Love can’t be measured or weighed up or used to provide comparisons. And so throughout the centuries we have looked for different ways to express and to live our Christian faith – rules and regulations to make us secure in our place before God. Worse we have argued with each other about which of these are the best ways, about who among us has best interpreted Jesus’ teaching. Then we wonderwhy people have not flocked to belong.

The bottom line is that we do not fully understand and therefore do not trust God’s love for us. We are so used to the economy of exchange that it is almost impossible to believe that God would and does give us something for nothing. Somehow we have missed the message that even though we had done nothing to deserve it, God sent Jesus to effect our salvation. We fail to grasp that God’s love exceeds anything that we can even imagine. God took the risk of entering our world as a tiny baby because God loves us. God risked rejection and misunderstanding because God loves us. God suffered the humiliation and agony of the cross because God loves us. All that God asks in return is that we love God and that that love is extended to each other.

Extraordinary as it is – love is all that it takes. More extraordinary still is that when we love we are drawn into the relationship shared by the Father and the Son. More extraordinary even than that through our love, God is made known to the world.

In the words of the cartoonist Leunig: “Love one another it is as simple and as difficult as that. There is no other way”

Easter 6 – 2010

John 5:1-9

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us into a new way of being in relationship, a new way of being. Amen.

Yesterday I opened an email that had been forwarded to me. It contained a series of very fine pencil drawing of animals and birds. While I admired the drawings, they were not particularly original. I couldn’t think why someone would gather them together and send them into hyper space. I am more used to forwards that are fun or that have a serious message – drawings was something new. I scrolled through the pictures until I came to a picture of the artist. Perhaps this was an advertisement I thought. I nearly closed the email, but curiosity got the better of me. Scrolling further I found the text which accompanied the email. The artist’s picture wasn’t an advertisement. These very detailed, very fine drawings had been created by someone who was only able to use his mouth to hold the pencil to execute the work. The accompanying text began: “We find excuses for not doing things ……”

Excuses come in all shapes and sizes and can be pulled out on almost any occasion – we are too young, we are too old, we haven’t had the right sort of education, someone will laugh at us, we have nothing to wear. We put things off until it is too late. We wait for other people to do things for us or for the time to be right. Some people are so good at making excuses for not doing things that they create arbitrary or fanciful limits on what they can do. They cage themselves around with indecision, self-doubt and uncertainty. They fail to trust, fail to venture. They procrastinate for so long that the opportunity to do what they wanted passes by. They expect the world to remake itself to suit them or at the very least expect others to remove the barriers for them.

Our reading today begins a new section in John’s gospel. In the first four chapters, the author has concentrated on the theme of belief or unbelief. From now until the end of chapter 10, Jewish feasts will provide both the background for Jesus’ teaching and the platform for a whole new way of interpreting God’s presence with God’s people. “A celebration of Jewish Feasts is called a zikkaron – a memory that recalled God’s active presence to the Jewish people[1]”. Passover, the Feast of the Tabernacles, the Dedication all reminded the people of God’s actions in the past and made those actions real in the present.

For Jews – those who believed in Jesus and those who did not – the destruction of the Temple and the defeat of the rebellion by Rome created a vacuum. Without the Temple the entire sacrificial system became redundant which meant that the relationship between God and God’s people had to be re-examined. The people were struggling to find a way to live their faith and to celebrate the Feasts which reminded them of God’s presence. The Jewish-Christian community for whom John wrote, were facing similar issues, exacerbated by their expulsion from the synagogues.

In telling the story of Jesus, John uses Jesus’ presence at the feast to demonstrate that God is present in the community, albeit in a new and unexpected way. Through a re-interpretation of the Feasts, Jesus is able to share with the community the knowledge that the Feasts (and consequently, the law) have been transformed or transcended in him. God’s presence is not to be sought in the law or the festivals, but in Jesus himself.  A believer’s relationship with God now occurs on a totally different plane. Believers relate to God through Jesus, not through the law or the festivals.

In this section of the gospel John also introduces Jesus’ confrontation with “the Jews” (in inverted commas). (“It is important to note here that when John’s gospel speaks of “the Jews”, it does not refer to the Jewish people who were contemporaneous with Jesus, but rather to those who, in the writer’s present continued to oppose the Johannine community, which itself had a Jewish identity. The conflict is not between two religions as you and I might imagine, but between two branches of the same family”. In John’s view “the Jews” are those who continue to hold to the law, the old way of understanding God’s intervention and presence, despite the fact that Jesus has revealed God to them. In contrast the Johannine community has been transformed by their relationship with Jesus and by a completely new view of the world and their relationship with God.

In this morning’s gospel, the point at issue is the observance of the Feast of the Sabbath as we can tell from the ominous ending: “Now that day was a Sabbath.” Jesus arrives in Jerusalem. In the north corner of the city is a pool which had a long history of being associated with healing – probably as far back as the Canaanites. John gives enough information for us to picture the scene for ourselves – there are five porticos filled with invalids. With the sort of prescience Jesus has shown before, – with Nathaniel, with the woman at the well,  he recognises a man who has been ill for 38 years!

Jesus asks the man a strange question: “Do you want to be made well?” The man responds with an excuse: “I have no one to put me in the water.” Clearly, he doesn’t know who Jesus is. What is more, like “the Jews”, he is looking at the world the wrong way. He is waiting for someone to physically put him in the pool. He doesn’t understand that what Jesus is offering is quite different. The old categories have been surpassed. Jesus offers something new and immediate, a relationship with God that does not require an intermediary. “Rise, take up your mat and walk.” This time the man offers no excuse.  In his obedient response to Jesus, the invalid finds that it is in his power to walk.

A simple miracle story turns out to be a lesson in understanding. The invalid’s horizon is broadened. He is no longer bound by the purely physical, or by the laws of the natural world. However, when we read further, we discover that the understanding of “the Jews” is reinforced and hardened by the event. They are not prepared to move away from tradition (in this case keeping the Sabbath) and their righteous self-control to recognise something new. They continue to look backwards, to seek authority in the law to rely on something other than themselves to achieve their relationship with God. They can not see that Jesus has exploded all the previous categories of expectation and relationship and has opened a new way of being the people of God that is not bound by ritual or circumscribed by law. They cannot accept that the God of their faith has now been revealed as the Father of Jesus and so they continue to find excuses not to believe and ways to prove to themselves that Jesus is not who he says he is.

In Jesus, God can be experienced in an immediate, direct and intimate way. We do not need anyone to help us to build a relationship. There are no excuses. We either risk opening our lives to Jesus and to the Spirit within us, or, like “the Jews” of John’s gospel, we can seek a refuge in formularies and laws, hoping that they will do the job for us. Jesus says: “Rise, take up your bed and walk” and the invalid responds. Jesus says: “Come, trust in me for your salvation” and all we need to do is believe.

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[1] Francis Maloney The Gospel of John, 164.