Swallowsrest

Epiphany  6 – 2010
Luke 6:17-26
Marian Free

In the name of God who desires that all people know freedom, peace and justice. Amen.

All things bright and beautiful,
all things great small,
all things wise and wonderful
the Lord God made them all.

The rich man in his castle,
the poor man at his gate,
God made them high or lowly
and order’d their estate.        Frances Cecil Alexander

God made them high and lowly. It is hard to believe that less that forty years ago, we sang those lines with gusto and impunity! Does this mean that God not only condones, but that God created situations in which some (in fact a majority) of this world’s people spend their lives in poverty and misery while others live in comfort and contentment? Does this mean that God not only looks contently on while women and children are sold into slavery and men risk their lives to provide a meager living for their family, but that God ordained that it be so? Does it mean not only that God is satisfied with, but actually intended that the largest proportion of people live on less than $2 a day, and a child dies of hunger every three seconds?

I could go on, but I think you get the picture. The author of that most beloved hymn was a product of her age. Victorian Christians really did believe that God had ordered the world as it is and that while one might do something to alleviate the plight of the poor, there was no reason to examine the causes of poverty or to create a more equitable or just society. That generation apparently saw no contradiction between an inequitable God and a just God and could see no reason to question the way things had always been.

“Blessed are you who are the poor for yours is the kingdom of God”. Unlike Matthew, Luke does not spiritualise the beatitude, “blessed are the poor in spirit”, but leaves it as a bald statement. Taken alone, it would seem to support the Victorian world view and allows those who are comfortably off to complacently accept the status quo – the poor are blessed, that makes everything alright. However, that Luke has a different intention becomes quite clear when we read on: “woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep.” This is a far less comfortable world view. Those who have had the misfortune to be born to poverty are assured that their situation will be reversed – which is good – but those whose birth has endowed them with comfort will find a reversal of their position quite discomforting.

Luke’s vision is quite clear. From the beginning he has indicated that he believes that Jesus’ coming will turn the social order upside down, that God favours the poor over the rich and the vulnerable over the strong. Mary’s song indicates that there will be a radical re-ordering of the world: “God has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.” Jesus’ sermon in Nazareth is equally confronting: “I have come to bring good news to the poor and to let the oppressed go free.” It is only in Luke’s gospel that the disciples “leave everything and follow Jesus” and Jesus actually says: “none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions”. In his second book, Acts, Luke reports that in the earliest communities property was shared equally among the believers and there were fatal consequences for those who withheld their worldly goods.

So what do we make of all of this? Luke’s gospel is compelling and leaves no room for doubt about the expectations for discipleship and about God’s preference for the poor. The problem in our age is that most of the issues are too big to comprehend let alone solve. Poverty and disease are global issues that we as individuals simply cannot resolve. The solutions to many problems are political and geographical and therefore beyond our reach. We can make donations to the earthquake relief in Haiti, but on our own we will be unable to solve the poverty and lack of resources which has intensified the fallout of the disaster. We can pray for the people of Burma but we cannot do anything about a political situation which refuses our aid when disaster strikes. Even our good intentions can have unintended results. High quality grain provided by aid programmes in the past has reduced the variety which ensured some sort of crop whether the season was good or bad. Now a good season means a good crop but a bad season means no crop at all.

Does this mean that we who have had the misfortune to be born in or migrated to the Lucky Country are destined at some time to have everything taken away from us? Do we have to give everything away in order to be followers of Christ? Or is it possible to wiggle our way out of the dilemma by finding a spiritual meaning to the teaching?

I have to confess that I do not have the sort of clarity and certainty to answer these questions for you. However, I believe that the questions raised by Luke’s beatitudes are serious questions which have the potential to affect our salvation and I believe that all of us must all prayerfully struggle to find answers. At this stage of my Christian journey I believe that it is important for us to recognise how blessed we are to live at this time, in this part of the world. I believe it is important that we determine to give a portion of our income, not only so that others might benefit, but so that we learn to be happy with less. I believe that we must live in such a way that our lifestyles and our actions cause no one to be hurt, treated unjustly or oppressed by what we do. Above all, I believe that we are called to place our trust entirely in God and God’s future and not to depend on worldly things which will not last forever.

We are going to spend a whole year with Luke and will continue to be challenged and confronted by Luke’s view of the gospel and of the world. We have a good opportunity, as we enter the season of Lent, to examine once again where we stand, to ask ourselves how much we trust God with our present and our future, and how willing we are to work with God to create a world in which all have enough to eat, meaningful employment, shelter from the elements and the ability to build a future for themselves and for their children.

Epiphany 5 – 2010
Luke 5:1-11
Marian Free

In the name of God who can use the most unlikely people as his disciples. Amen.

Most of you will know that our Lectionary follows a three year cycle. We read in turn the three Synoptic gospels – Matthew followed by Mark and then Luke. (During this cycle the gospel of John is inserted at times like Advent and Lent so that we cover all four gospels over the three year period.)

This year as you will have noticed, we are reading the Gospel of Luke. Already we have noticed some significant characteristics of this Gospel. For instance, Luke has an extensive birth narrative, in which he interleaves the stories of John the Baptist and Jesus in such a way that it is clear that Jesus is to be the more significant of the two men. Further, he elaborates Mark’s account of Jesus’ preaching in the synagogue in Nazareth and moves it to the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. A major theme is liberation. Judgement will occur, but that does not belong to this period of time or to this part of the story.

In today’s gospel, the calling of the first disciples, Luke once again embellishes Mark’s version and changes the placement to suit his own purpose. In Mark’s gospel, the calling of Simon and Andrew, James and John occurs at the very beginning of the gospel and is a stand alone account. Jesus is walking beside the sea, sees the men and calls them to follow him. They leave their nets and follow him. It is not until chapter 4 of Mark that we hear the account of Jesus teaching from the boat.

Luke situates the call of the first disciples in the account of Jesus’ teaching from the boat and he includes in the story the account of the miraculous catch of fish – a miracle which is only found here and in John’s post-resurrection stories. When Jesus has finished teaching, he (a carpenter, not a fisherman) presumes to tell the experienced fishermen to put out to sea. Any fishermen would know that this is a foolish thing to do in the middle of the day if the night has not yielded a catch, but such is Jesus’ authority and confidence that Simon agrees to do what he asks. The result is more fish than one boat can safely bring in – in fact more fish than two boats together can manage.

Though it is clear that Luke is telling the story of Simon and Andrew, James and Johns’ call to ministry, Jesus doesn’t use the words: “follow me”. It is only in response to Simon’s fearful “confession” that Jesus says: “Do not be afraid, from now on you will be catching people alive.”

There is so much of interest in these eleven verses but I want to focus on Simon Peter’s reaction to Jesus. It is fascinating that, in a world in which miracles were an accepted part of life; Simon is completely overwhelmed by the catch. Despite the fact that a night of fishing has yielded nothing, Simon’s reaction to the number of fish is not one of gratitude and joy but rather of terror and shame. It is easy for us to understand that he would fall at Jesus’ feet in gratitude. It is less easy to grasp why he would urge Jesus to get away from him. What is the connection between the miracle and Simon’s recognition of his sinfulness?

It is Simon’s language which tells us that something more than a miracle has happened here. In addressing Jesus as “Lord” instead of “Master”, Simon is indicating that, through the miracle, he has grasped the divine nature of Jesus. In the presence of the divine, Simon is overcome with awe, even terror. The Old Testament tells us that presence of the divine is a terrible and dangerous thing. The Israelites believed that it was impossible to look on God and live. Moses hides his face so that he need not look at God. At Mt Sinai, the Israelites were kept from the holy mountain for fear that they would be killed if they were to get too close to the presence of God. Elijah is allowed only to see God’s back. The splendour and glory of the God are believed to be too much for ordinary human senses to bear. No wonder Simon wants Jesus to go.

There is another source of fear. The holiness of God exposes the sinfulness of human beings. In the face of God’s goodness and justice Moses, Isaiah, Paul and now Simon recognise how unworthy they are to be in God’s presence. How can they possibly measure up? How can they be holy as God is holy or good as God is good? When we understand this Simon’s response to Jesus seems not only reasonable, but totally logical. He filled with awe and fear in the presence of the divine and at the same time he feels vulnerable and exposed. He is not a bad person, but in Jesus’ presence he is all too aware of his human limitations and inadequacies. He wants the source of his discomfort – Jesus – to go away.

The presence of God in the miraculous is often associated with the call of God. Again we can think of Moses and the burning bush, Isaiah’s vision of the temple and Paul’s experience of the risen Christ. God gets a person’s attention and then commissions them for ministry. They all reply that that are not worthy to carry out the task God asks of them. Jesus does not use the words: “Follow me” here, but it is quite clear that this is a story of commission. Jesus is calling Simon – from now on he will be catching people alive.

Jesus’ does not set out to terrify Simon, but Simon’s response indicates that Jesus has chosen the right person for the task. Simon demonstrates that he has the humility and self awareness that is needed for ministry. His knowledge of his own weakness and sinfulness will mean that he will look to God for guidance and direction instead of relying on himself. Simon, as we will discover, will not reach perfection, yet his faith in, and dependence on God will mean that God will do great things through him.

God can’t work through us unless we first recognise our human frailty and vulnerability and our need to depend entirely on God. When we understand that we are not worthy of God’s trust, and when we realise that we, on our own, cannot do what God requires, then we open ourselves to allow God to use us for God’s purpose. If, in the presence of the divine, we do not throw ourselves to the floor in awe or cover our eyes in fear, we can be sure that our arrogance, our self-importance and our sense of independence will provide a barrier which locks God out of our lives and effectively prevents God from working with and within us.

In our 21st century lives, we may not witness a miracle, or see a vision, but through our baptism we are all commissioned by God to carry out God’s work in the world. It is an awesome and terrifying task. There will be times when, like Simon we do not feel worthy of the responsibility and there will be times when, like Simon, we will let God down. But through it all God will stay true to his choice of us and when we feel ourselves least worthy we may find that our it is the recognition of our vulnerability and inadequacy that leads to a dependence on God and that this is what allows God to work through us to make a difference in the world.

Epiphany 4
Luke 4:22-30
Marian Free

In the name of God who desires that we open our eyes so that we might truly see. Amen.

Imagine that it is time to elect a world leader and that your vote is crucial in the final decision. There are three leading candidates and you have the following information about each. The first associates with crooked politicians, and consults with astrologers. He’s had two mistresses. He also chain smokes and drinks 8 to 10 martinis a day. The second was kicked out of office twice. He sleeps until noon and he used opium in college. Every night he drinks a quart of whisky. The third is a decorated war hero. He’s a vegetarian, doesn’t smoke, drinks an occasional beer and hasn’t had any extra-marital affairs. Which of these would be your choice?

If you chose the first, you would have elected Franklin D. Roosevelt. The second would have allowed Winston Churchill to rule the world. Had you voted for the clean living, war hero – number three – you would have voted Adolf Hitler to a position of world domination. Of course, a short quiz such as that is not a fair way to assess your ability to judge someone’s character or leadership abilities, but it is a reminder that some of our judgements of other people are not always based on all the possible available.

It is human nature to make decisions about other people based on limited information. At the same time, we are biased by our own backgrounds, our prejudices and our needs. We give ourselves permission to overlook the faults of those whose achievements we admire and we allow familiarity to blind us to the qualities and the achievements of those closest to us. We have a tendency to let past experiences determine present perception such that some people can never outlive our bad opinion. The result is that we do not always see clearly to assess either the gifts or the deficits of the people around us.

Today’s gospel begins half way through a story which we began last week. It is the account of Jesus’ preaching in the synagogue in his home town of Nazareth. You will remember that Jesus takes the scroll and reads a portion of Isaiah 61 – a classic text of liberation. Then takes his seat and with the eyes of all fixed on him he says: ‘‘Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.’

One might expect that the congregation would be indignant that Jesus was daring to make such an outrageous claim, but their immediate reaction is very positive. We are told: “All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.” Indeed they evince a certain amount of pride: “Is not this Joseph’s son?” (In other words: Isn’t he one of our own?) It is Jesus’ response to this praise that is puzzling. Instead of humbly accepting the recognition and respect of the people, Jesus, deliberately sets out to antagonize them. First of all he quotes a well-known proverb: “Doctor, cure yourself.” Then he anticipates what they might say to him: “Do here also in your home town the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.” He implies is that they will want to keep him to themselves as their own prophet and miracle-worker. So he uses the Old Testament examples of Elijah and Elisha to remind them that his ministry cannot be confined to a single place.

No wonder those in the synagogue are enraged. So far as we know, their reaction to Jesus has only been positive and his response is to insult them – to accuse them of intentions which they haven’t even verbalised. It’s not at all surprising that they are so incensed that they want to drive him out of the village and off a cliff.

So what is really going on here? What on earth is Jesus thinking? What is he trying to achieve? The members of the synagogue are not part of the religious hierarchy. They are in fact simple peasants, the very people who respond most positively to Jesus and his message and who make up the bulk of his followers. Why, when Jesus’ reception in his home town has been so positive, would he insult and offend them?

It appears that Jesus has discerned that the villager’s understanding is superficial and self serving. Blinded by familiarity, they see not Jesus the son of God, but only Joseph’s son –albeit a new and improved version. He is so well known to them that they do not, and possibly can not, see him for who he really is. They measure him according to known criterion. They know and understand the categories of prophet and miracle worker and can comfortably fit Jesus into one or both of them. However, their imaginations will not stretch to the point where they can see Jesus as the one who fulfils the words of Isaiah.

Jesus is right. The Nazarenes probably do have an expectation that they can appeal to him to do for them what he has apparently done elsewhere – perform miracles. They want him to be their local prophet. This is the reason that he cannot perform miracles among them. Miracle-working is Jesus’ primary function. His role, as the reading from Isaiah has made clear is to set the people free, to liberate them from their false conceptions and to turn their hearts and minds to God.

Jesus’ reaction is born of disappointment and frustration. Jesus’ apparent ungraciousness is his way of confronting their restricted vision and an attempt to open their minds to help them to see who he really is and what he is about.

Twenty centuries later, today’s gospel speaks to us. The reaction of the Nazarenes forces us to ask ourselves: Is our understanding of Jesus based on all the facts – the uncomfortable as well as the comfortable? Have we jumped too soon to a conclusion as to whom and what Jesus is? Are we so confident in our knowledge of Jesus that we believe that we have nothing more to learn? Do we believe in Jesus primarily on the basis of what we believe he can do for us? Do we treat Jesus as someone so familiar to us that we are no longer surprised by what he says or does?

Through his actions and his teaching, the Jesus of the gospels constantly challenges us to be open to new experiences and continually asks us to be willing to give up our pre-conceptions so that we can truly understand who he is and who we can be in relation to him. We have a choice, we can like the Nazarenes, choose to push Jesus away, or we can open our hearts and minds such that we are always ready to see what it is he wants to reveal to us.

Epiphany 3 – 2010
Luke 4:14-21
Marian Free

In the name of God in whose Son, Jesus, we are set free to live. Amen.

In the last fortnight, a prisoner walked out of a court in Brisbane, 12 dangerous criminals escaped from a prison in Papua New Guinea, and all the jails in Haiti were destroyed, freeing any prisoners who might have survived. It makes you think: Is this what Jesus means when he said: “He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives.” Has it come true in our time? I’m sure that many of us would hope this was not the case! However sympathetic we are to other means of punishment and rehabilitation, I imagine that most of us would prefer dangerous criminals to serve out their time in prison.

All three synoptic gospels mention Jesus’ visit to the synagogue in Nazareth and his subsequent rejection. Luke, however, is the only one who records both the text which Jesus uses and his sermon on that text. It is only Luke who gives a detailed account of the reason why Jesus caused so much offence as a result of his preaching. Luke has a particular interest in Jesus’ visit to Nazareth because whereas Matthew and Mark place it towards the middle of Jesus’ public ministry, Luke situates the story at the very beginning. In this way Luke uses the account to set the scene for the whole of Jesus’ story – a story that will swing from acceptance to rejection beginning in a tiny village in Galilee and ending in Jerusalem.

Luke introduces this narrative with the report that Jesus has returned to Galilee from the wilderness. He is filled with the Spirit and receives a warm welcome from all. His renown spreads throughout the countryside. In Nazareth also he goes to the synagogue – on the Sabbath, as was his custom. (Jesus’ Jewish credentials are thereby confirmed. He is not a Greek teacher, but one who teaches in the Jewish tradition, one who understands the interpretation of the scriptures. He is a faithful, synagogue-attending Jew.)

We are told that Jesus ‘finds’ the passage from Isaiah which suggests that it is his own choice. What is interesting to us is that he doesn’t read the passage as it is written. Even though it is only a short passage, some phrases are omitted and Jesus inserts a verse from another chapter in Isaiah. The passage which Jesus reads is from Isaiah 61:1-2, however, Jesus omits the words: “to bind up the broken hearted”. He adds the words “to let the oppressed go free” to the text and when he reaches the end he chooses to leave out the final phrase: “and the day of vengeance of our God”.

The inclusions and omissions allow Luke’s Jesus to emphasise “release” (aphesis) and “acceptable”) and make it clear that the “today” which Jesus announces is not a time of judgement, but of liberation. Luke has already alludes to the theme of liberation in the story of John the Baptist. At his naming, John’s father Zechariah prophecies that the knowledge of salvation will be known in the release from sins and as an adult, John himself announces a baptism of repentance for release from sin. Release or liberation is already a theme of Luke’s gospel
In Jesus’ reading from Isaiah, the idea of release takes a different turn. Not only are the people of God to be freed from their sin, but we discover that liberation has a social justice as well as a strictly religious element. Not that this concept is new – concern for the poor and the outcast is a consistent theme of both the Old and the New Testaments. If we return to Jesus’ text (Isaiah 61), we discover that the context of the prophet’s words is an attack on the people of God – not so much for the sin of turning against God, but for the way in which they turn to God. As we will be reminded on Ash Wednesday, the prophet is criticizing the people for their over-concentration on ritual, sacrifice, fasting and long prayers. Their so-called worship of God takes the place of care for those in need. In contrast to those who are defining religion in terms of ritual, Isaiah reminds them that faith is really about concern for their neighbour.

God through Isaiah asks: “Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? 7Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?”

A key Old Testament theme which is carried over to the New Testament is that no one can be truly free unless everyone is free. The Law is very specific about the need to care for the widows and the orphans and the stranger in their midst. So strong is this tenet that built into the Law is the idea of a Sabbatical year (Deut 15:1-18). Every seven years, not only is the land to lie fallow so that it may have an opportunity to recover, but there is to be a remission of all debts and a release from the bonds of slavery. This is further elaborated in Leviticus where it states that every fiftieth year, or year of Jubilee, not only is there to be a remission of debt and release from slavery, but any land that has been taken from a clan or family due to hardship, had to be returned to its original owners. Every 50 years the playing field is leveled.  So we see in the Old Testament a strong and consistent social policy not only to provide for the vulnerable, but also to create a just and fair society.

There was an understanding that the health of the whole society relied on this care and respect for one another.

This is a truism not only for the people of Israel, but for us all. In the past week, we have become only too aware that our own peace of mind depends in part on the health and well-being of society as a whole. We have been bombarded on our television screens and through our newspapers with images of the unimaginable horrors that have occurred as a result of the earthquake in Haiti. As we watch the grief, the frustration and agony of so many people, we come to understand that we cannot be truly happy while so many suffer such extraordinary pain and hardship. What is true on a global scale is no less true close to home. If we listen to the voices around us, we discover that our sense of well being, our dignity and our self-respect depend to some extent on the degree of dignity and self-respect of our neighbours, of our indigenous brothers and sisters, of the migrants who come to our land and of the poor and dispossessed among us.

Jesus, quoting Isaiah, speaks a universal truth, that freedom for one requires freedom for all. We are not truly free unless all are truly free. Jesus announces a new era of liberation for all. As we receive the gift of liberation which Jesus offers, our eyes are opened to the suffering which is all around us, we are liberated us from the blind indifference which allows us to ignore the effects of poverty and disadvantage, we are released us from our captivity to selfishness and greed. Through the gospel our lives are transformed, we are set free to live, and to bring life to others. As we respond to Jesus’ message of liberation, we are caught up in Jesus’ mission “to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

Epiphany 2 – 2010
John 2:1- 11
Marian Free

In the name of God whose generosity knows no bounds. Amen.

Many of you will have read the book The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown. It is basically a detective story in which the author has used a few obscure and not so obscure details from Christian scholarship to create a conspiracy theory in relation to Jesus and to the church. When it was first published, the novel caused a deal of fuss, especially among some Christians who found the story offensive – they having made the mistake of confusing fantasy with fact and literary license with scholarship. As it happens, the so-called ‘facts’ which Brown adapted to his purpose contained no surprises for any who had kept abreast of  biblical scholarship or who knew something of church history.

The conjecture which was most designed to shock was the possible – if unlikely – scenario that Jesus had married and had had children. In the context of Brown’s story, the truth of this would throw into chaos the Christians faith and the church which proclaims that faith, for, if it were true, the story argues, it would somehow undermine the belief that Jesus is God. In the novel, the church knows Jesus’ marriage to be a fact, and so will go to any lengths to prevent the secret from getting out and thereby destroying its credibility.

My faith is based on other things than Jesus’ marital status, but I can understand that many people would be disturbed by the notion that Jesus might have been married. However, it is important to note is that Brown was not writing a text book. Brown was using biblical scholarship – albeit loosely – in order to develop a mystery novel and to create tension. He is anything but innovative. For example, numerous scholars have speculated on the nature of the relationship between Mary Magdalene and Jesus. They base their speculation on such facts as can be found in early Christian texts.

In John’s gospel, Mary is the first at the tomb and when Jesus speaks her name, she goes to hold him, indicating a closeness not usually found between an unrelated Jewish woman and a man. The Gospel of Philip – which is not included in the canon – states: “And the companion of the Saviour is Mary Magdalene. But Christ loved her more than all the disciples and used to kiss her often on the mouth. The rest of the disciples were offended by it and expressed disapproval. They said to him Why do you love her more than all of us?” Furthermore early documents, including our gospels, indicate that there was a tension between Mary Magdalene and Peter in the early days of the church suggesting that Mary played a leadership role – perhaps as a result of her closeness to Jesus.

Perhaps the greatest cause for speculation is today’s gospel. We don’t often think to ask questions about the text, but if you think about it, it is curious that Mary (the mother of Jesus) should be so interested in the amount of wine, and that she should be in such a position of authority at the wedding, that she could tell the steward what to do. For this reason, some scholars have argued that such a scenario would only be possible if Mary were the householder and if this were Jesus’ own wedding. If it is Jesus’ wedding, then who did Jesus marry? On the basis of the evidence already mentioned, Jesus’ wife could have been Mary Magdalene.

Of course, all of this is only conjecture. The gospel itself implies that Jesus and the bridegroom are different people and there are, of course, other possible explanations for Mary’s significant role in the account. While we are told that Jesus and the disciples were invited, Mary is simply said to be there as if by right. This suggests that the wedding is that of a family member or at least of close family friends. Mary’s interest in the proceedings may stem from her relationship to, or friendship with, the family, in much the same way that close friends and family today will make themselves useful at any social function.

Interestingly, up until now, Mary has had no role in John‘s gospel  – there is no birth narrative in John. Barraclough suggests that at the wedding at Cana opens the way for Mary (Jesus’ mother) to enter the story and to exercise authority. (That Jesus’ mother has a significant role in the Johannine community is affirmed at the crucifixion where Jesus commands John to regard her as his – John’s – mother.) Mary exercises her authority in three ways. In the first instance, she notices that the wine is running out and takes the initiative in informing Jesus. Secondly, she exercises authority over the stewards by telling them to do whatever Jesus asks them to do. Lastly, in a culture in which honour and shame play an important role, Mary exercises pastoral authority in preventing a situation which would cause the hosts considerable embarrassment and loss of face. Mary’s authority is further evidenced in her recognition of Jesus’ ability to perform a miracle – something which Jesus has not demonstrated until now.

Jesus’ use of the expression “woman” rather than “mother” in addressing her is not intended to be as abrupt and disrespectful as it appears in the English. Mary certainly doesn’t take offense – she simply defers to his authority by telling the stewards to take notice of him. Jesus’ use of “woman” may be a way of indicating a new relationship between himself and his mother. From now on their roles will be reversed. Jesus is no longer a child. He will no longer defer to his mother, but she to him. Further, as the use of “woman” elsewhere in the gospel informs us – particularly in the account of the woman at the well, the relationship between Jesus and is mother is now defined as that of teacher and disciple rather than as mother and child. In this story then, Mary is thus identified as one having the authority of a disciple.

Unfortunately, we cannot go back in time and be a fly on the wall. We cannot tell who is getting married or what really is going on between Mary and the stewards, Jesus and his mother.

One thing we can tell for certain is the extent of the miracle. Each of the stone jars held between 20 – 30 gallons of water that is, between 75 to 125 litres. That translates to something like 600 to 1000 bottles of the best wine in today’s language. As with the feeding of the 5,000 Jesus has provided more than enough.  Through this miracle, Jesus reveals that the nature of God is to give and to give abundantly. In the face of such overwhelming generosity, we cannot help but know ourselves loved and cherished by the Creator of all things.

Knowing ourselves loved, we should extend that love to others. Knowing that we are cherished we in our turn should value those around us. Understanding the boundless generosity of God, we should find it in our hearts to demonstrate such generosity in our own lives.

Baptism of Jesus 2010
Luke 3:15-22
Marian Free

In the name of God who is revealed to us through Jesus his son. Amen.

A few weeks ago, I pointed out that in Luke’s gospel, the stories of Jesus and John the Baptist are closely intertwined, albeit in such a way that it is clear that of the two men Jesus is the superior. This pattern continues in chapter three until Luke neatly ties up John’s role in the story and begins to deal in earnest with Jesus’ ministry.
Luke’s new goal – to differentiate Jesus and John – means that his account is awkward chronologically. He records John’s arrest and imprisonment before introducing Jesus’ baptism – an order of events which could not be possible if John baptizes Jesus. However, his intention is to conclude John’s story before he begins that of Jesus’ ministry and thus give John no role in Jesus’ ministry.  In Luke’s mind, Jesus’ baptism belongs to the account of Jesus’ life, not to the story of the Baptist and so Jesus’ story begins where John’s ends: “Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized.”
By doing this, Luke emphasises the fact that John is only the precursor – the last of the OT prophets, the one who makes way for Jesus. John himself points out that Jesus is the more powerful of the two. He claims that he is unworthy to untie the thong of Jesus’ sandals – an act no disciple would dare to perform. He attributes to Jesus the function of the eschatological judge – “His winnowing fork is in his hand” and he suggests that to be baptized by Jesus will be of greater significance that John’s baptism: “He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”
Clarifying the Baptist’s role is important as Luke shares with the other gospel writers a certain embarrassment with regard to Jesus’ baptism. Why does the one anointed by God need to be baptized for the forgiveness of sins? The problem is dealt with somewhat differently by each gospel writer. In Matthew, John the Baptist himself expresses confusion as to why Jesus should come to him, to which Jesus replies that everything should be done in an orderly way, so making it clear that Jesus is baptized for forms sake, not because he needs to be forgiven. John’s gospel manages not to mention Jesus’ baptism specifically and instead has the Baptist report the descent of the spirit on Jesus. Luke, as I have said, disposes of John’s ministry before turning to Jesus’ baptism and the focus on Jesus’ ministry.
For the same reason the gospel writers seem to distance the descent of the dove and the voice from heaven, from the act of baptism. In John’s gospel, the Baptist reports the signs as evidence of who Jesus is. In the Synoptic gospels, the dove and the voice appear to be for Jesus’ alone, though it is not entirely clear whether anyone else sees or hears. In Matthew and Mark these signs occur as Jesus comes up out of the water. Luke completely separates these events from the actual baptism by reporting that they appear in response to Jesus’ prayer after he has been baptised.

Luke’s account of the baptism is quite abrupt. The adult Jesus appears from nowhere and without introduction. He is baptized simply as one of the crowd. There is no record of any discussion between Jesus and John, nor of any interaction with the crowds. The report of the baptism is not elaborate – in fact, Luke dispenses with it in two words: Jesus had been baptized – in Greek “ Jesou baptisthento”. Luke is anxious to move on to what happens after the baptism – the voice from heaven affirming Jesus as God’s son.

The birth narratives have made it clear that Jesus will be the Son of the Most high who will inherit the throne of his ancestor David and the Holy Spirit has played a significant role in the story. Now, however, Jesus is addressed directly: “You are my beloved Son” – the dove and the voice are for him affirming what he already knows.
The voice from heaven, using allusions to Psalm 2 and Isaiah 42, identifies Jesus’ relationship to God as that between a father and a son. The idea of a filial relationship to God is not new to Judaism. In the OT Israel is referred to as God’s son and the kings of Israel, specifically David are sometimes referred to in this way. Psalm 2 was used in the enthronement liturgy and contains ideology in relation to God’s choice of the line of kings, so it is a fitting Psalm to use to identify the anointed one, who is of David’s line. In the OT also, divine sonship was associated with commissioning and authorization. The son represents the father and to some extent acts with the authority of the father.
Jesus’ sonship is important for a number of reasons. Firstly, it indentifies the nature of the relationship between Jesus and God as one of deep affection and intimacy – such as that between a father and a son. Secondly, it indicates a legal relationship. The son and heir acts as the father, with the father’s authority. Thirdly, as we will discover, the relationship between God as father and Jesus as son is such that to know one is to know the other: “no one knows who the Son is except the Father, or who the Father is except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him” (Luke 10:21-22). Jesus’ authority as son is further affirmed during the Transfiguration when the voice from the cloud says: ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’
In Luke this divine sonship is grounded in the activity of the spirit. It is present at Jesus’ baptism and is the driving force when Jesus is driven into the wilderness, when he returns to Galilee and when he reads from the scroll of Isaiah in the synagogue in Nazareth.
John’s ministry comes to an end with a proclamation of the one who is greater than him. Jesus’ ministry begins as God affirms his nature and purpose.
In our own baptism the promises of God are visibly signed and sealed for us, we are filled with the Holy Spirit and commissioned for ministry in the world around us. May our lives be directed by the Spirit as we seek to do God’s will and may the presence of the Spirit is our lives make God known is the world.

Epiphany 2010

Matthew 2:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God who leads us to the Christ so that we might worship him. Amen.

The story of the appearance of the magi is well-known to us. If asked, I imagine that we could confidently retell it. Whether or not we could tell it without elaboration is a different matter. Many of us might say that there were three kings or wise men, we might even be able to name them (Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar) and to elaborate the meaning of their gifts. Were we to draw the scene, we would almost certainly depict a stable and include the shepherds. In fact, the story does not mention a number – in some traditions there are twelve – the visitors are not named and the meaning of the gifts is not given by Matthew. According to Matthew, the magi are the only visitors Jesus receives. The extra details which we take for granted, belong to later traditions which assumed that only kings could afford such extravagance and later generations may have been uncomfortable with the notion that magi or magicians could take such a prominent, positive role in the gospel. Over time the story changes and is transmitted in different forms despite the evidence of the gospel.

The magi appear only here in the New Testament. They leave the story as abruptly as they appear and we learn nothing of their origin or skill. Luz suggests that magi were originally members of the Persian priestly class – having much the same role as the priests and scribes whom Herod consults and that their study, while it included astrology (the study of the skies), also extended to Eastern theology, philosophy and natural science.

Unlike Luke, Matthew is not particularly concerned with the circumstances of Jesus’ birth. There is no census, no stable, no heavenly host and no shepherds. Mary and Joseph are already in Bethlehem and Jesus is simply born. Their residence in Nazareth only occurs after the brief exile in Egypt. It is the story of the magi which will reveal the significance of Jesus’ birth and which will set the scene for the development of a number of themes in Matthew’s gospel in particular the culpability of Jerusalem and the ruling class for the death of Jesus and the recognition and worship of Jesus by those are on the outer edge not only of Jewish society, but of Judaism itself.

The account of the visit of the magi is closely linked to the second half of chapter two by the repetition of a number of catchwords – star, worship. The two parts of chapter two – the coming of the magi and the slaughter of the innocents do not make sense on their own. The children would not have been killed had the magi not made their visit to Herod and made known the birth of the Christ.

Verse 1 sets the scene – Jesus is born, in Bethlehem of Judea (which affirms his Davidic descent) . Herod is king and magi come to Jerusalem (the centre of religious and political power). Verse two reveals the purpose of the visit and introduces the star and the “king of the Jews”. At this point the narrative divides into two parallel parts which contrast the meeting in the palace with the false King who is appointed by and dependent on Rome – Herod – with that of the meeting in an ordinary home with the genuine, God appointed king – the infant Jesus, who cannot yet act on his own, but who is authorised by God himself. The contrast is not just legitimacy or age, Herod will prove to be hypocritical and evil, Jesus to be God’s anointed representative. Herod appears to have the power and authority, but history will demonstrate that it is fleeting.
The contrasts between Herod and the magi are drawn out by the parallelisms in the two sections – the meeting with Herod in Jerusalem and the discovery of Jesus in Bethlehem. The star which appears in verse 2 reappears in verse 9, Herod and Jerusalem’s dismay at the news of Jesus’ birth is contrasted with the great joy of the magi when they find him. Herod’s plan to discover and destroy Jesus is frustrated by God’s plan to protect and save him. Structurally, both sections begin with a question about the king and end with a desire to worship him.

Matthew introduces in this section themes which will be expanded later in the gospel. The most significant of these is the culpability of Jerusalem in Jesus’ death. Herod, the ranking priests and the scribes are all associated with Jerusalem and Judaism, yet they do not observe the birth of the Christ and when they hear of it, instead of being pleased, they are dismayed. In contrast, the Gentile magi see the signs, recognise the significance and come to worship the child. Matthew alerts the readers to the fact that those who should have welcomed Jesus are the very ones who will either fail to recognise him, or who will reject and kill him.

Matthew’s readers who will have known that Herod was not respected or liked by the people will not have been surprised that Herod felt that his position was threatened by the possibility of a new king, but they will have been taken aback by the apparent complicity of the priests and scribes who assist Herod and by their failure to be joyful at the birth of the Christ. They will have been further surprised to learn that it is the magi, not the religious leaders who are open to God’s direction and who are seeking to bow down before his anointed.

There are many puzzles in Matthew’s account – is it historical, from where do the magi come, what is the nature of the star, why is it so different from Luke’s story of Jesus’ birth? However, what is significant is for the gospel story is that the magi who are obviously people of note because they have been guests in Herod’s palace – recognise Jesus and worship him. That is despite the fact that the child displays no obvious signs of his future significance, the magi fall on their faces before him – an act that would normally be reserved for gods or kings. After their departure, Matthew has no further use of them. Jesus has been revealed and Jerusalem has revealed its true colours. Through the magi Jesus has been identified as the Christ, expected by the people, sent by God, rejected by his own people and yet recognised as Lord by those who are willing to allow themselves to be guided by God. At the same time Matthew foreshadows what is to happen – Jesus will be perceived as a threat both to the political and religious leaders and the story will end where it began at the centre of power Jerusalem.

Matthew’s readers will understand that despite appearances, they are to identify with the magi, to allow themselves to be led by God, to discover Christ in ordinary circumstances and taking no notice of appearances to fall on their faces and worship him.

We too are asked to allow God to surprise us, to be willing to find Jesus where we least expect him, and having found him to acknowledge him as Lord.

Christmas 2009

Marian Free

In the name of God whose contradictions keep us alert, awake and expectant. Amen.

When you think about it, it was not a very auspicious start – the Creator of the Universe entering his own creation as a tiny, vulnerable baby. There were so many other options – a football star, a famous singer, a mighty warrior – if God had come as any of these people might have sat up and taken notice. Or even if God had used some tried and true method of appearing – in a burning bush, as a pillar of cloud or as a pillar of fire. If God had come as someone instantly recognizable, or in a familiar form, he might have had a better start, a greater chance of radically changing the world.

So why a baby – tiny, powerless, unable to exert any influence on world affairs?

It’s an interesting question because if we are honest, even though we know the story, we don’t always think about the baby being God. We all like the wonder and joy that the nativity scene brings. There is something about the sentimentalism of Christmas that attracts us, that makes us feel good about ourselves and the world. In reality however, the baby is very confronting. If Jesus is God, then the baby is God. And if the baby is God, we have to rethink all our pre-conceptions about who and what God is. If God is a baby, then God cannot be an old man in the sky. If God is powerless and vulnerable, then God cannot be a vindictive judge. If God chooses to be so intimately related to human beings, then God cannot be remote and distant.

It’s a nonsense really – believing in a God who is vulnerable, powerless, intimately close. And that is the point. The baby – the contradiction – is the message. If we allow ourselves to believe in God the infant, we discover that all our preconceptions about God are thrown into disarray. We are left wondering what it is we can hold onto. If God is dependent on us for survival, then perhaps God is not simply a miracle worker to be manipulated by our demands. If God puts himself into a position in which he might experience human suffering, then perhaps he is not indifferent to or unaware of our human experience. If God allows himself to be subject to the ups and downs of life, then we cannot expect God to wave a magic wand to make our lives run smoothly.

The baby confronts all our stereotypes and expectations and asks us to re-evaluate our understanding of the nature of God. At the same time, God in a cradle challenges us to develop an open-ness to God, that doesn’t confine or restrict God to the narrowness of our imagination. It demands a willingness to be expectant, excited and willing to see God wherever and however God appears to us.

The infant Jesus inspires us with a child-like sense of wonder and awe which in turn creates an open-ness, a suspension of the rational and a willingness to believe. The baby is an invitation from God to allow ourselves to be set free to be surprised, astonished and overwhelmed by the many and varied ways in which God is present in the world.

Advent 4
Luke 1:36-45
Marian Free

In the name of God who surprises and disturbs so that our hearts and minds might always be open to the new things which God is about to do. Amen.

Luke begins his narrative about Jesus with the account of two extraordinary pregnancies– one to a woman who is barren and now is well past menopause, and the other to a young woman who has never had intercourse. The stories are closely intertwined as Luke compares the two women and their offspring and introduces themes which will be elaborated further later in the gospel. Luke’s story telling techniques are also in evidence in the first chapter of the gospel.

The birth narratives are for Luke, not just an obvious place to begin, but they form a bridge between the promises of the Old Testament and the new story which is beginning. The key characters – Elizabeth, Zechariah, Mary, Anna and Simeon – are all steeped in the promises and thus form a solid platform on which to introduce the new directions God is taking.

Our gospel reading today gives only a small part of a much larger story. Zechariah, the husband of the barren Elizabeth is performing his duties in the sanctuary of the Temple when an angel announces that his wife will bear a son. Zechariah is so astonished by this news that he is struck dumb until the birth of his son. The whole community is involved with his vision, because the Temple is filled with people at prayer who, when he emerges, cannot help but notice that something significant has occurred.

Mary is also visited by an angel, but while like Zechariah, she is puzzled, she accepts that God is able to do what the angel has announced and instead of remaining silent visits Elizabeth to give voice to what has happened.  Mary’s vision is private and persona but she chooses to make it known. Zechariah returns to Elizabeth who does indeed become pregnant and sees in her pregnancy the hand of God. Mary has no husband and becomes pregnant through the power of the Holy Spirit.

The two stories come together when Mary arrives at Elizabeth’s home. In this pericope, Elizabeth’s role is to be a prophet. Perhaps inspired by the baby in her own womb, she pronounces Mary to be the “mother of her Lord” and herself to be blessed by Mary’s presence. Mary stays with Elizabeth for some time, but apparently has gone before the birth.

In the tradition of the heroes of the Old Testament, both Mary and Zechariah burst into song which reveals the deeper significance of the events – Mary’s pregnancy, John’s birth. The world has changed for the better, it is a more balanced, fairer place thanks to the intervention of God.

Luke’s story-telling techniques become obvious in this first chapter. Luke tends to pair stories to reinforce the point that he is making – the story of the lost sheep paired with the story of the lost coin, the man healed on the Sabbath paired with the story of the woman healed on the Sabbath and so on. He tends to bring together the stories of two people, both of whom have had a religious experience which they only partially understand. When the two come together they are able to see and understand the full picture. So for example, Peter’s vision only becomes clear when he sees Cornelius and Ananias’ instruction to receive Paul, only makes sense when Ananias sees that Paul has been transformed by his encounter with the living God.

Here, when Elizabeth recognises Mary as the mother of her Lord, the role of her own child becomes clearer. At the same time, what Mary knew by faith, she now knows for certain, because of Elizabeth’s affirmation.

The way in which the two stories are related, tell us that of the two children, Jesus is to play the more significant role – John’s birth, while extraordinary is not without precedent, and it is John who leaps in the womb at the presence of Jesus and Mary is identified as the mother of “the Lord”. The stories are not evenly balanced for instance John’s birth is mentioned only briefly, but there is a detailed account of his naming and circumcision. Jesus’ birth is described in great detail, but his naming and circumcision are only mentioned in passing.

Not only does Luke emphasise the generous response of the marginalized to God but he also demonstrates God’s preference for the poor and oppressed.  Both Elizabeth and Zechariah are members of a long line of priests. They are also described as “righteous”.  In Jewish terms they are part of the religious aristocracy – obvious choices to carry out God’s will. Mary on the other hand is a peasant girl from a remote village who has no known lineage, yet it is Mary who trusts what the angel says to her and it is Mary who is given the more prominent place in the unfolding of God’s will.

God’s actions in this situation are both familiar and unfamiliar. The Old Testament is peopled with barren women who conceive as a result of God’s intervention – Sarah, Rachel and Hannah. All however conceived children with their husband as does Elizabeth. It is not difficult to see God’s hand here. Mary’s situation is very different – she is an unknown AND unmarried. That God should choose her, and use such an unorthodox approach is as shocking and challenging as it is unexpected. The element of surprise indicates for Luke the hand of God. God’s new thing will be a break from what has gone before – it will be both expected and unexpected, in line with the promise and pointing to a new direction.

Throughout this Advent, a theme has been developing. Not only has the presence of God drawn near, but there seems to have been a movement from the external presence of God to God’s presence within us. During Advent, we have been asked to take note of God in the people and things around us, to remove the barriers which prevent us from seeing God, to allow our lives to be transformed by an openness to God and finally to join with Mary in saying “yes” to God’s presence dwelling within us. Christ comes to birth only because Mary responds to God’s request. Christ continues to be born in the world in and through those of us who say “yes” to God, who allow God to take up residence in their lives, and to grow and come to life in them.

Every year at this time, we celebrate God’s coming in Jesus Christ, we acknowledge that Christ is always present in the world and in our lives, we allow Jesus into our hearts and make him known through our lives and as we do, we prepare both ourselves and the world for his coming again in glory.

Mary said “yes”, so that we would say “yes”. Let us say “yes” to God’s presence dwelling within us.

Advent 3 2009
Luke 3:7-18

Marian Free

In the name of God, whose love for us is never withdrawn. Amen.

You may remember that last week I argued that John the Baptist urged us to be ready by accepting God’s forgiveness and therefore God’s salvation. The quotation from Isaiah provided a very positive and affirming view of God’s coming. According to Isaiah, the task of the one who prepares the way is to give to God’s people: “knowledge of salvation, by the forgiveness of their sins”. Today’s reading from Zephaniah continues this theme – “The Lord has taken away the judgments against you, he has turned away your enemies. The king of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst; you shall fear disaster no more.” These two quotes indicate that the prophet’s understanding was that God’s intention was not to come in wrath and judgement but with healing and peace.

This vision and expectation is in direct contradiction with John’s words in this morning’s gospel. Today John preaches judgement and damnation. The crowds who have come out to hear him and to be baptized by him are greeted with: “You brood of vipers! Who told you to flee from the wrath to come?” and “Even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees.”  They almost certainly were not expecting that sort of reception and it is not the language which might encourage the people to trust in the mercy of God or to look forward with joy to God’s coming.

What are we to make of the apparent contradiction? Is God coming in peace or in judgement? Is God going to welcome us with open arms or accuse us of hypocrisy? Should we look forward to God’s coming with joy and anticipation, or should we live our lives fearful that God is going to punish us if we do not come up to standard? Should our prophets and priests fill us with terror or with confidence? Tensions such as this exist throughout scripture. On the one hand the prophets threaten all kinds of dire consequences for the people who turn their backs on God, on the other they assure the people of God’s compassion.

The contradictions are not accidental. In the first place they tell us something about the nature of God. A righteous God cannot help but to be dismayed at the waywardness of God’s people. A God who allowed or condoned wicked and evil behaviour would not be a God in whom we could trust. So God’s wrath and frustration must be expressed against the disobedient and the unjust. God’s righteousness must expose and denounce unrighteousness. The contradiction lies in the fact that this righteous God is also a loving God, a God who called a people to be his own. So the prophets declare God’s anger towards those who have turned their backs on God, while at the same time reminding the people that God never turns his back on them.

The contradictions created by God’s righteousness and God’s love not only reveal aspects of God, but they also carry a warning. While God never turns his back on us, scripture records that time after time, the people of God have turned their back on God – by trusting in other gods, by behaving in unjust ways and by failing to believe in God’s goodness. Turning away from God, we are told, can result in all kinds of trouble because ultimately, God’s love cannot save us from ourselves. If we choose to trust in the things of this world, if we place our confidence in ourselves instead of relying on God, then we must face the consequences of going our own way – depending on our own resources instead of allowing God to do all that is necessary for our salvation.

When we are determined to go it alone, we turn our back on God and therefore on God’s ability to save us from ourselves. In the end it is what we do, not what God does, which leads to trouble and strife. God’s allowing us to go our own way is a form of judgement – we have to accept the consequences of a life directed by ourselves and not by God. John, in the tradition of the prophets warns against this sort of independence or failure to trust in God which is based on an over-confidence in our selves. John’s anger seems to be particularly addressed to those who, instead of relying on God, rely on their descent from Abraham. They don’t need God, because they believe that their descent provides all that they need for salvation.

John knows that the problem with this sort of self-reliance is that it creates a false sense of security. Worse than that, a belief in our selves and our place in the world builds a barrier between our selves and God which God’s love may not be able to penetrate. If we are over-confident of who we are and what we can achieve then we have no need of God. We squeeze God out of the picture. In other words, when we place our trust in the things our own abilities, we turn our back on God and on what God can and does do for us

The tensions between God’s love and God’s righteousness as recorded in scripture help to keep us on our toes. The prophetic expressions of God’s anger remind us of our dependence on God’s love and goodness. On our own we simply cannot live up to the principles of a righteous God. We cannot earn salvation on our own merits, by our own endeavours. We will always fall short of the righteousness of God.  However, the reminders of God’s love (which is also demonstrated in the life of Jesus) ensure that we do not fall into despondency and hopelessness, but instead place our hope and our trust in God’s mercy.

John calls the people to “repent” to turn around, to re-turn to God. He attacks those whose self-confidence prevents them from understanding their need for and dependence on God.  John knows that if we think that we are on the right track, if we depend on what we can do rather than what God does for us then, whether we know it or not, we make the decision to turn away from God.

It is not that God turns his back on us, but that we turn our backs on God. John’s words are a warning against the arrogant independence which separates us from God, and a challenge to turn to God, to place our confidence entirely in God’s love for us – a love which may be disappointed, frustrated and even angry, a love, which should we chose, will let us go our own way and yet a love which ultimately will not abandon us if only we will turn our faces to God and allow ourselves to be loved.