Swallowsrest

Pentecost 15

Mark 8:27-38

Marian Free

In the name of God, revealed in Jesus Christ, ever present through the Holy Spirit. Amen.

“Fairest, Lord Jesus” – I have always loved this hymn, but as I get older I wonder what it really means. Jesus is fairer than the woodlands and the meadows? as a Palestinian Jew, Jesus was almost certainly not fair. Much as I love it, the hymn tend to be rather sentimental even cloying. Does it mean that Jesus is lovelier than a meadow? The language doesn’t seem to grasp the strength of character and purpose of Jesus or reflect the saving grace of Jesus. It gives no indication that following Jesus comes at a cost.

I know nothing about the author of this hymn, so I can’t judge his or her faith, but I have met a number of people who seem to see Jesus as some sort of benevolent being whose primary purpose is to look after their well-being. Such people often come completely undone when they discover that all their prayers and confidence in this Jesus cannot protect them, or those whom they love, from illness, accident or tragedy. Sadly no one has helped them to understand that a relationship with Jesus is a robust entity like any other and like any relationship, not only requires a response from us, but must be constantly worked on. It is probably that those whose faith is easily shaken have never truly grappled with the concept of suffering and the idea of losing one’s life in order to keep it.

Many of us grew up with the gentle Jesus meek and mild of the late 19th century. Jesus was depicted as someone who conformed to the society of the time, who did good works, didn’t rock the boat and whose primary purpose was to make people feel better. In our childhood we may have learned that all we had to do in response was to ensure that we didn’t do anything dreadfully bad. Simply being good would keep us on the right side of God and get us into heaven. Thankfully, we all know that our relationship with God is more complex than that. As we grow in our faith we come to understand that there is no magic and that, no matter how faithful we are, we are not protected from the things of this world which cause hurt and distress. Over the course of our faith journey we also come to realize that being “good” is not necessarily measured by the avoidance of being bad, that “goodness” is measured by our relationship with God, by our willingness to recognise that we fall a long way short of God’s glory, and by making a decision to allow God to direct our lives.

Today’s gospel throws out not one, but two, serious challenges. Who is this Jesus and what does he require of us? Jesus asks: “who do you say that I am?” Following Peter’s declaration that he is the Christ, Jesus tells the crowds what it means to follow him: “‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.’” From this we can deduce that a relationship with Jesus requires at least two things: a genuine understanding of who and what he is, and a preparedness to give up everything to follow him. Knowing who Jesus is, leads to an acceptance of the cost of discipleship.

In order to answer the question: “Who do you say that I am?” it is important to engage with the gospels and try to come to grips with the Jesus presented there. This means hearing the challenges in the parables and Jesus’ teaching and not glossing over or explaining away the difficult bits. It means understanding that Jesus’ frustration with his disciple’s ignorance might translate to a frustration with us. It means accepting that the criticism directed at the Pharisees (the establishment of Jesus’ day) might well be aimed at we who are the establishment today. It means accepting that God loves us no matter how imperfect we are.

Being open to the challenges which Jesus presents and willing to enter into an authentic relationship with him, will inevitably lead to a desire to follow his example and to ensure that our lives conform more closely to his. Jesus uses the language of the cross for this process of being conformed to his image. He asks us to share his journey and to give up absolutely everything for the prize of being united to God forever. He promises that should we, like him, let go of everything we hold dear we will discover, like him, that we will lose nothing and gain everything, that death, even the deaths we experience day to day, will lead to fullness of life in the present, and eternal life in the future.

That is not to say that we are all called to be martyrs, or that we should actively seek a painful and gruesome death. Neither should we patiently endure the little irritations of life as if they could be compared with the cross of Calvary. It is true that some are called to literally give their lives, but for most of us losing our life simply means giving up some of the characteristics, attitudes and behaviours which are ultimately not helpful for our development as whole and holy human beings, which are not helpful in our relationships with others and most importantly are not helpful in our relationship with Jesus.

This can be a costly and life-long process. It is not always easy to recognise that we have behaviours and attitudes that prevent us from truly living. It can take time to realize that when we are being long-suffering, we are in fact being intolerant, that when we think we are being righteous we are being self-righteous, that when we think we are being selfless we are really being self absorbed. We don’t always recognise while we are worrying about the impact of others on us, that we fail to see the impact that we have on them. We can think that we are carrying our cross when in fact we are simply nursing our hurts and misfortunes and wearing them as a badge of honour.

To know Jesus is to know a life given completely to God. To follow Jesus is to lose those things which are temporal and take hold of the love, joy and peace which will last for all eternity.

Pentecost 14

James 2

Marian Free

In the name of God who asks only that we accept God’s love and to share that love with others. Amen.

“What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill’, and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.”

There are many things I value about this Parish. One is the welcoming, friendly community, another is the faith and commitment of its members, another is the way in which everyone seems to enjoy our worship, yet another is the way in which people provide feedback about my sermons. Last week someone said that the sermon was good, but that I should complete the story this week. By that he meant that I should deal with the passage which we read this morning from James. That is, having claimed that God’s love is not dependent on anything we do or don’t do, I should perhaps speak about James’ statement that faith without works is dead. The statement seems self-evident, but it is in fact quite contentious, so I gladly take up the challenge.

To be quite honest, I don’t know much about James, except that this particular passage is often quoted in the argument about faith and works – are we saved by faith as Paul argues, or does our faith need to be demonstrated by our works as claimed by James? This was one of the major issues of the Reformation and until recently remained a sticking point in Lutheran/Roman Catholic relations. (Luther argued that humankind was justified by faith alone whereas the Roman church claimed that justification had to be animated by charity. Luther’s argument depended in large part on his reading of Romans. The Vatican tempered Paul’s theology with reference to James). Luther was particularly scathing about the letter of James saying that it was “really an epistle of straw”.

Interestingly, Luther wasn’t the first person to question the value of the letter. From the earliest days of the development of the Bible James was not an obvious choice for inclusion. One of the earliest collections of books accepted as canonical – the Muratorian Canon, does not include James. In the fourth century Eusebius mentions that James is one of the “disputed” books and Jerome writes that James had been accepted into the church “little by little”. The letter (if it is really a letter) contains a lot of practical advice, such as can be found in the book of Proverbs, but it tells us very little about the gospel.

It has been argued that the writer of James was the same James whose representatives caused trouble for Paul in Antioch. There was a question as to whether or not non-Jewish converts were required to observe the Jewish law in order to be fully included in the new faith and Paul argues quite fiercely that they do not and he does so on the basis that from the time of Abraham, God has justified believers according to their faith and not according to their works. On this basis Paul contends that Jews and Gentiles can be included in the people of God. IIf it is the same James, it may be that he is putting into writing an argument between himself and Paul that is on-going.

Certainly, these verses in James appear to be directly challenging a key platform in Paul’s theology – that is that justification is through faith and not through works. In Romans and Galatians in particular, Paul argues that a person is justified (that is, made right, before God) by faith and not on the basis of anything that they have done to earn justification. Abraham believed and it was reckoned to him as righteousness he writes. James, also using Abraham, argues that faith without anything to show for it is dead.

James sounds convincing but the difference between the two points of view is quite subtle. Paul would have been horrified to think that a believer could ignore the plight of another member of the community or of anyone in need. In fact, all his letters address the issues of how believers should live together and in Galatians he says: “whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for the good of all, and especially for those of the family of faith” and Paul, like James, takes the community to task for giving the rich precedence over the poor.

Where the two differ is in regard to their belief as to “what saves?” James asks “Can faith save you?” to which Paul would answer a resounding “yes”. Paul is convinced that we are saved not on the basis on what we have done, but on the basis of what God has done for us in Jesus. This being the case, it is clear to Paul that what is required from a believer is not a certain standard of behaviour, not a quota of good works, but faith – trust in God, an acceptance of God’s saving power. Paul would argue that our being saved or not saved does not depend on good works, but rather on our complete surrender to the goodness and mercy of God.

This is both liberating and terrifying. If all we need to do is trust, how can we possibly know that we are doing is right? There is no standard against which to measure ourselves. If we are saved simply on the basis of our trust in God, what is to stop us being completely laid back and never doing anything or worse, abandoning all restraint and doing whatever we like? How will outsiders see that we have faith?

Paul’s answer to this is that we are to walk in the Spirit, to allow our lives to be completely determined by God, to surrender ourselves to God’s direction in our lives. If we are able to let go in this way, then good will certainly result, but it will be good of God’s making and not of our own. It will be good for which we cannot and would not claim credit for we would understand that the good that we do is the Spirit of God working through us.

Paul would claim that the external signs of faith are not works but the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. It is these characteristics that demonstrate the presence of God within. They will almost certainly lead to action, but action which does not issue from the presence of the Holy Spirit, while good, does not necessarily spring from faith. Paul would claim that being led by the Spirit means that we do not neglect to do good things, but that the good that we do is motivated by and directed by God.

It is easy to be seduced by action. It is tempting to believe that we can earn our way into God’s hearts. But the heart of the gospel is God’s saving love and the greatest demand that God makes is that we accept that love. The miracle is that is we allow God’s love to completely determine our lives, good will result, not only for ourselves but for all those around.

Pentecost 13
Mark 7:1-8,14-23
Marian Free

In the name of God who despite everything, loves us as we are. Amen.

The book of Leviticus (the book of law) includes pages and pages of rules for the people of Israel to obey. These included ritual requirements as well as instructions about day to day behaviours. It is here that we find the regulations in relation to leprosy and other skin diseases, instructions about the festivals and about sacrifices, details about the purification of women after child birth, directions as to who one might or might not have sexual relations with and so on. Here too we find the injunctions about clean and unclean foods. “Any animal that has divided hoofs and is cleft-footed and chews the cud – such you may eat. But among those that chew the cud or have divided hoofs, you shall not eat the following: the camel, for even though it chews the cud, it does not have divided hoofs; it is unclean for you. The rock badger, for even thought it chews the cud, it does not have divided hoofs; it is unclean for you, the hare, for even though it chews the cud, it does not have divided hoofs; it is unclean for you. The pig, for even though it has divided hoofs and is cleft-footed, it does not chew the cud; it is unclean for you.” (11:3-7) Even contact with the carcass of such an animal was deemed to make someone unclean until the evening.

This meant, among other things that they could not participate in Temple worship, and may even have to have kept themselves separate from other people.

We would be devastated today to discover that Leviticus declares oysters, prawns, scallops and all sea creatures which did not have scales and fins to be forbidden foods and that even having contact with any part of  them would, according to Leviticus leave us in a state of uncleaniness for the remainder of the day.  A state of ritual impurity could be attained in a variety of ways and Leviticus provides information as to how this state might be avoided.

In this book too, we find the origin of the ritual of washing before eating. The priests were not allowed to eat the sacred donations unless they had first immersed their bodies in water.

This then, is the background of today’s gospel. In Jesus’ time, the Pharisees had adopted  many of the rituals  directed to of the priests in order to achieve the holiness associated with priesthood or to express in their own lives the priesthood of the laity. It was a practice that many of the ordinary Jewish people had adopted and expanded. So, as we see in today’s gospel, the practice of washing before eating had become standard practice for many and food laws continued to be faithfully observed.

This account of conflict with the Pharisees and scribes is the second time that Mark records Jesus’ conflict with the Pharisees on the basis of his disciple’s behaviour. The first occurs in chapters two and three in which the Pharisees accuse Jesus’ disciples of not fasting and of plucking grain (that is of working) on the Sabbath. In a third story, Jesus finds himself in direct conflict with the disciples for healing on the Sabbath..

In this account, the Pharisees and some of the scribes accuse Jesus’ disciples of eating with defiled hands – that is of contravening the tradition which insists on ritual washing, not only of hands, but of the food that was being eaten and the vessels that were used. In the earlier collection of stories, Jesus defended his actions with reference to scripture. Here, however, he moves to the attack. It is not his disciples who are breaking the law, he says, but the Pharisees, his accusers who are failing to obey God. They claim to serve God, but their hearts are far from him. Their outward observance does not match their inward disposition. Despite what the Pharisees think, it is not the commandment of God which they observe Jesus says, but only a human tradition.

Having directly confronted his accusers, Jesus turns aside and speaks directly to the crowds. In so doing, he takes the argument in a slightly different direction. He has changed tack from ritual cleanliness, to the food laws – the foods that make one clean or unclean. It is not what one eats that makes a difference, rather it is what comes out of a person that is important. Contrary to what we read in the book of Leviticus, Jesus is telling the people that what they eat does not determine whether or not they are impure. It is their behaviour, their attitudes and their relationship with God which reveal their state of ritual purity or impurity.

The crowds are left to ponder this statement as Jesus enters the house where his confused disciples ask him what he meant. Jesus elaborates using the colourful language that reminds them that the food that they eat turns into sewerage. It doesn’t matter what they eat, because it all ends up being expelled. Pure or impure food doesn’t actually change who and what they are. Food in and of itself does not have the power to make them pure. What they eat or do not eat will not disguise or hide or excuse any ugliness which resides within.

Greed, evil intentions, immoral behaviour, envy, slander and pride are not consequences of the observance or failure to observe dietary laws. Eating patterns in and of themselves do not lead to adultery, deceit or licentiousness. In fact, no outward observance can change the person inside.

Like the Pharisees we might perfectly observe all outward forms – praying regularly, only associating with the right sort of people, ensuring that we are seen to be doing what is proper and right – but all that would not change our inward disposition.

What the gospels demonstrate is that Jesus had more time for the tax collectors, prostitutes and sinners – those who knew their unworthiness – than he did for the smug, self-assured Pharisees who very self-centredness precluded a dependence on God. Jesus claims it is not possible to make God love us by behaving in particular ways or by observing certain rituals. Jesus’ death on the cross provides clear evidence that God loves us regardless. In the face of such overwhelming, unmerited affection, it remains for us to humbly acknowledge our weaknesses, our frailty and our desires and gratefully understand that there is nothing that we can do to make God love us more and nothing that we can do that can make God love us less.

Pentecost 11
John 6:51-58
Marian Free

In the name of God, who through Jesus, calls us to give ourselves completely to him. Amen.

We are all familiar with the accounts of the Last Supper. Jesus meets with his friends to celebrate the Passover Meal. During the meal, he takes a loaf of bread and after blessing it, breaks it and says: “Take eat, this is my body.” Then he takes a cup of wine and says: “Drink from this all of you, for this is my blood of the new covenant which is poured out for many.” These or similar words are found in Matthew, Mark, Luke and first Corinthians with Luke and Paul adding the words: “Do this in remembrance of me”. However, despite the fact that John’s gospel records Jesus’ final meal with the disciples, he has no record of the breaking of bread or sharing of wine.

I have said in previous weeks, that many scholars believe that this sixth chapter of John’s gospel is the one in which John explores the theology of the Eucharist against the background of the Jewish festival of Passover. Using the feeding of the five thousand as his starting point, the evangelist argues that Jesus is the “living bread”. In the context of the Passover with its emphasis on the escape from Egypt and the provision of the manna in the wilderness, the author contends that Jesus has supplanted the manna both in terms of its ability to satisfy but also in terms of its ability to give life. Given that by the first century the manna had come to represent the sustaining, life-giving nature of the law, John is making the startling point that Jesus has replaced the law.

In today’s reading, the author of John’s gospel takes discourse even further. Jesus begins by stating in effect that those who eat the living bread will live forever and that the bread he will give is his flesh! No wonder the Jews begin to dispute among themselves. How can anyone give their flesh to be eaten? Not only is the idea difficult to understand, but it is quite abhorrent. Besides, they know who he is, they know his mother and father. How can he give his flesh? Jesus doesn’t back down, but instead intensifies the point – first negatively, then positively. If they don’t eat his flesh and drink his blood they will have no life in them. On the other hand, if they do, not only will they live, they will live forever.

The living bread – Jesus – is the source of life, not only now but for all eternity. There is no life apart from him. Not only does this life surpass that provided by the manna in the wilderness, but rather than being limited to the people of Israel, it extends to the whole world.

The language of eating flesh and drinking blood is confronting and much more direct than that used in the Synoptic gospels where bread and wine can be taken to be representational. However, such language cannot be avoided or softened, not only because we find it here in John’s gospel, but because we ourselves say it here week after week in the Prayer of Humble Access: “grant us so to eat the flesh and drink the blood of your dear Son Jesus Christ that we may evermore live in him and he in us”. This  language was not only offensive and difficult for Jesus’ first century listeners but it is also difficult for many who come to our churches today.

We ought perhaps to be grateful that we do not have to read the original Greek, for the word translated “to eat” changes – probably to provide more emphasis. In verse 53, it is the word “phagein” which simply means “to eat”. However, in verse 54 another word, “trogein” is used. This latter word is much more expressive meaning “to eat, to chew to crunch”. The author makes the change to emphasise the violence to the situation that is being expressed. Jesus has already said that he will give his flesh for the life of the world. The physicality of the language opens the listener to the brutality of the crucifixion – the means by which Jesus will give his life. His flesh will literally be torn and battered.

The very physicality of the language makes it clear that it is in the very human Jesus that salvation is worked out. It is in the human Jesus that the word of God enters the world and shares our existence and it is the human Jesus whose very real death on the cross leads to salvation and life for all.

Finally, in Verse 56 we can see where John is headed. Jesus say: “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.”. We discover that eating and drinking is the language John uses for relationship between the believer and Jesus. This theme of mutual indwelling is particularly Johannine. He stresses the fact that Jesus and the Father are one, and he then extends this to include believers.  Jesus says: “On that day you will know that I am in my Father and you in me and I in you” (14:20).  The relationship between Jesus and the believer is intended to be so close that it should be impossible to distinguish between them, just as it is impossible to distinguish between the Father and the Son.

As God the Creator is the source of life, the mutual in-dwelling of the Father and the Son means that Jesus too is the source of life. As such he can say: “I am the bread of life”, “I am the resurrection and the life”, “I am the way, the truth and the life”. Those who believe in Jesus, who are one with him, share this life with him and, as they share Jesus’ life in the present, so they will participate in Jesus’ eternal life in the future.

The language of eating and drinking is used to help us to see that it is not just belief in Jesus that is required for salvation. We are required to ingest the revelation of Jesus in its entirety, to absorb it completely so that it becomes a part of ourself. Salvation, according to John, requires total identification with Jesus, such that there is no longer any distinction between ourselves and him, just as there is no distinction between Jesus and God.

The nature of the relationship which we are to develop with Jesus is to be so close that it is as if we are one, so close that it becomes difficult to know where we end and  where Jesus begins. Week by week as receive the bread and drink the wine, we allow Jesus to become more and more a part of who we are, in the hope that we will become more and more who he is.

Pentecost 10
John 6:41-51
Marian Free

In the name of God who in Jesus gives us life, both now and forever. Amen

Chapter 6 of John’s gospel is considered so significant that we are spending five weeks trying to unravel its complex argument. We began two weeks ago with the account of the feeding of the five thousand. Last week we saw how John moved from the miracle to a discourse on bread culminating with his statement that he is the bread of life and that those who believe in him will neither hunger or thirst. Jesus’ audience misunderstood what he was saying. Having seen the multiplication of the loaves, they interpret Jesus’ statement literally. They see it from a materialistic point of view. Here is someone who can meet their basic needs for survival – they want to have this bread always!

Jesus, as we know, is referring to a spiritual truth. Faith in Jesus can ease the craving for worldly goods and give us real satisfaction and peace. In today’s gospel Jesus seeks to clarify what he has said – he is speaking of heavenly bread, bread that will lead to eternal life. This bread, he says, is vastly different from the manna provided in the wilderness – those who ate that bread died, those who depend on him will live forever.

Throughout Chapter 6, the author of John’s gospel has made a number of illusions to the Passover festival. In Jesus’ time this celebrated not only the liberation of the Israelites from Egypt, but also the provision of manna in the wilderness. His audience would have picked up the references and understood that Jesus was not only claiming to be greater than Moses, but that, in claiming to be the bread from heaven, he was suggesting that he had replaced the manna which God provided in the wilderness. This claim was significant in itself, but it takes on a completely radical tone when one realizes that by the first century, the manna had come to represent the law – the source of life. Jesus’ claim then, is not just that he can provide spiritual sustenance, but that he has replaced the law as the source of life! No wonder there is murmuring in the crowd – just who does this man think that he is.

As controversial as Jesus’ claim to bread is, his claim to have come from heaven is equally confronting for his audience and this is where we begin today. Having kept quiet until now, the audience feel they have to challenge the arrogance which claims an intimate relationship with God and a heavenly origin. However, the crowd with whom Jesus debates in the earlier verse is replaced here with “the Jews”. This is a technique John employs whenever he wants to introduce controversy – he narrows the conversation partners down to the leaders of the people – it is they according to John – who are most guilty of failing to understand. The illusion to the Exodus story would have been clear to Jesus’ audience they would have heard the reference to complaint as an illusion to the Israelites murmuring against Moses in the desert (in particular in reference to having bread to eat).

The question “the Jews” ask seems to us to be quite reasonable quite reasonable. How can Jesus possibly claim to be the bread which comes down from heaven? They know where he came from. His father is Joseph. They know his mother and father. This makes Jesus’ claim quite outrageous. How can he possibly have come from heaven when those who know him, know that he has had an earthly birth and earthly parents?

But Jesus is not interested in pacifying his opponents or responding to their complaints. If anything what he goes on to say will only further antagonize them! He quotes the OT to suggest that the prophets predicted a time when the people would be taught by directly by God – that is they would no longer need the intermediary of the law. Further, he is suggesting that those who are open to this direct teaching from God are able to recognise Jesus and come to faith in him.

Jesus’ claim that he has come from the Father coupled with the allusion that he has replaced the law as a means of knowing God was not only contentious, it was clearly heretical. Jesus takes his discourse even further claiming that faith in him leads to eternal life. He is the bread of life. The manna in the wilderness came from God (not Moses), but its efficacy was limited to the meeting of the human need of hunger- feeding the Israelites in the wilderness of the desert. As the bread of life, Jesus provides life not only now, but for all eternity. Those who receive this bread will never die.

Throughout this chapter, the author of John seems to be trying to escalate the offense that Jesus’ words cause. He is the bread, he replaces the law, he is the source of life, he has come down from heaven, he is the source of eternal life, he is living bread.

Finally, in verse 51, Jesus adds a further affront, the straw that for many will break the camel’s back and turn them away from following him. Jesus says: “Whoever eats of this bread will live for ever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”  It was bad enough that Jesus claimed to replace manna and therefore the law, but now he is equating bread with flesh which implies the unthinkable – eating flesh.

You and I are so used to the language of the Eucharist that we may completely miss offense that equates bread with flesh. His first century listeners would have heard Jesus’ statement literally – that somehow he was going to use his flesh as the source of their nourishment. For many, this was impossible to accept. With the advantage of hindsight, we understand that Jesus when Jesus speaks of giving his flesh for the life of the world, he is predicting his death – his giving up of his life for the sake of the world. Jesus’ audience, however, would have had no idea what he meant. They were interested in him when he performed miracles and demonstrated his healing power. They were much less willing to have their world view challenged and expanded and their faith deepened and enriched.

Our scriptures contain puzzling and confusing texts which challenge our faith and our understanding of God. We can choose to ignore them or we can choose to wrestle with them. Only if we take the more difficult route of seeking understanding, will we enter into a deeper and richer relationship with the one who gave himself for us.

Pentecost 9
John 6:24-35
Marian Free

In the name of God source of our life and ground of our being. Amen.

There is a lot of misunderstanding and confusion in John’s gospel. For one thing, the Jesus of John’s gospel speaks in riddles – speaking of being born again, walking in the light and not the dark, saying that they know where he comes from when it is clear that they do not. He often speaks indirectly about himself, speaking in the third person of the one sent by God, the one who came down from heaven. In this gospel, the expectations of the people don’t match up with who Jesus is and what he is trying to do. The Jesus of John is trying to reveal spiritual truths but his hearers misunderstand and think that he is going to meet their physical needs. They are interested in signs and wonders that Jesus performs, but not so ready to accept what those signs reveal about who he is.

We see this confusion and misunderstanding amply demonstrated in today’s gospel. The author of the gospel has taken a piece of the story of Jesus – the feeding of the five thousand – and has developed a discourse around it. In this instance, he has used the image of bread to link Jesus with the Passover feast, a Jewish festival which celebrated both the escape from Egypt and the journey in the wilderness. The original listeners would have picked up themes which are no longer accessible to us. For example, in the first century, the manna from heaven was associated with the law of Moses and keeping the law of Moses was the “work” that one did to inherit eternal life. First century listeners would also have picked up the patterns which frame different parts of the discourse. For instance, there are a number of discrete sections, each of which is introduced by a question or statement from those with whom the conversation is being held. “When did you come here?” “What must we do to perform the works of God?” “What sign are you going to give us?” All of which allow the author to introduce another point.

The crowds who have followed because of the signs that he did, have become distracted by the miracle of the loaves – so much so that Jesus can accuse them of being interested in meeting only their superficial bodily needs rather than their inner spiritual needs. Jesus challenges them to search for something more substantial, something which will last forever – eternal life. Don’t work for that which perishes he says. So they ask what they must do – they associate “work” with the Jewish understanding of the law. The law is a work that they have to do for God. Jesus responds that “works” in that sense are no longer relevant. Inheriting life now depends on belief in the one whom God has sent. Faith not works is key to the new revelation which Jesus represents.

The hearers seem to grasp this, but are not prepared to give in so easily. How do they know Jesus is who he implies he is? How can they have confidence in him? Is he of the same class as Moses, can he perform miracles in the wilderness by providing manna to eat? (Intriguingly, they appear to have already forgotten the miracles of the loaves. Equally interesting is the fact that they seem to understand that when Jesus speaks of the one sent by God is referring to himself.)
Jesus corrects their misunderstanding, God, not Moses gave the manna, and God has given them a sign – the true bread from heaven. Like the woman at the well, his hearers think that Jesus is speaking of physical sustenance – and they are eager to partake. They have missed Jesus’ true meaning – that faith in him provides a deeper meaning and satisfaction, than anything which the world is able to offer. They are distracted by the possibility that he can provide them with something real, something that will make life easier for them.

It is not surprising that the people misunderstand Jesus – not only is he vague in the extreme about who he is, but he is changing the rules, he is taking the rug out from under their feet. Up until now, it was relatively easy to know if they were keeping the faith. Moses gave the law and if one obeyed the law all would be well. The law was something tangible and measurable. You knew where you stood.  Changing the dynamic to belief in Jesus is not only confusing, it is full of uncertainty. How can they be sure that Jesus is the one sent by God? What does it really mean that he is the bread of life? Has he replaced the law as the means to be in relationship with God? As we will see, it was easier for many of the people to continue in the way that they had always lived. They could not place their trust in Jesus, they did not feel that they could depend on him; they did not understand what it all meant.

In saying that he is the bread of life, Jesus is claiming that faith in him will go to the heart of people’s deepest needs, that if only they can let go of their expectations, if only they can put their trust in him, they will find a peace that all their striving will not achieve.

Many people today have similar problems to those of first century Palestine. They find it difficult to believe in God or in Jesus without physical proof that God exists. They want God to demonstrate his existence by a number of different proofs and when those proofs are not forthcoming they give up looking. Others expect God to constantly intervene in their lives such that they are miraculously spared suffering and misfortune. If God fails to deliver, that is evidence of God’s non-existence or ineffectiveness. Still others are unable to have confidence that God will in fact give their lives meaning. It is much easier for these people to believe in the things that can be seen, to place one’s trust and one’s hope in the material, physical world to provide comfort and protection. Others again, want to believe that God expects something from them, that there is a standard they have reach in order to please God. So they spend their lives striving to be accepted by a God who has already said that they are acceptable.

In this elaboration of the multiplication of the loaves, Jesus is encouraging us to reconsider our values, to ask ourselves in what we place our trust and reminding us that if we have the courage to let go and to have faith in him, we will discover that he will satisfy our deepest longing and meet our strongest desires.

Pentecost 8

John 6:1-15

Marian Free

In the name of God whose abundant love is far more than we need or deserve. Amen.

I wonder what you had for dinner last night. We had mustard beef with thyme butter and a selection of vegetables.  It was very satisfying – nothing, I imagine like a meal which consisted of one five thousandth of five barley loaves. Until now, I hadn’t really thought about what that really meant. How much did each person really get? What did one thousandth of a barley loaf look like?

In order to find out, I bought myself five small loaves of bread (not barley sadly) and tried to work out how to cut them into five thousand pieces. The easiest way seemed to be to take just one loaf as a sample. First, I cut the loaf into four pieces. Then I took one of those pieces and cut it lengthwise into five pieces (20 pieces in total). With just one one of the five pieces, I cut five strips from top to bottom (bringing the total number of pieces to 100). Finally I cut those strips into 10  pieces. That gave me the requisite 1000 pieces from one loaf.

As you can see, the pieces are not as small as you might imagine, but certainly too small to chew, let alone to satisfy.

Finally, having separated the 1000 pieces of bread, I gathered up the crumbs. Barely a tablespoon – hardly the two and half baskets of the story. (One loaf, not five.)

While the piece of bread each person got, was slightly larger than I had envisaged, the fact that it apparently satisfied people who had not eaten all day, and that a vast quantity was left over is still mind-blowing.

From the gift of a boy’s lunch Jesus satisfied a hungry throng with far more than they could eat. Just imagine what God can do with our gifts, if we hold nothing back, but give all that we can.

Ambrogio de Stefano Borgognone, 1510

Pentecost 7
Mark 6:30-34m 53-56
Marian Free

In the name of Jesus, who has come, who is present with us now and who will return to take us to himself. Amen.

One of my enduring memories from a childhood visit to an art gallery in Cologne is of an entire room filled with bloody and vivid images of the crucifixion. As a ten year old I was fascinated and repulsed. At the same time, I had no idea why anyone, let alone so many artists would want to focus exclusively on this aspect of the Christian faith and why they would make them so appallingly realistic. Weren’t there other aspects of Jesus’ life that were worthy of representation, I wondered?

I am not an art historian, but I know that if we were to look at depictions of Jesus over the last two millennia, we would find a wide variety of themes and an equally wide variety of images – from the chubby child of the nativity to the tortured image of the cross. Every age has made its own interpretation of Jesus – artistic or otherwise – depending on the social and political climate of the time. Even the New Testament is not free from this sort of development. Each gospel represents Jesus in a slightly different way according to the needs and interpretations of the community for which they were written. The letters which succeeded those of Paul have changed the image of the church as the body, to the image of the cosmic Christ as the head of the body. By the time of the writing of Revelation, Jesus the Good Shepherd has become the Paschal Lamb. .

In the Middle Ages, Jesus the judge became Jesus the mother, and closer to our own time, the “social worker” Jesus of the late 1800s became the “apocalyptic, revolutionary Jesus” for much of the 1900s.

Artists are part of the society in which they find themselves and their images of Jesus reflect the mood of their society. Jesus is at times wild-eyed and fierce, at others gentle and effeminate. He is depicted both as ethereal and also as solid and muscular. He is presented as strong and as vulnerable.

The last century has seen an attempt both to enculturate Jesus in a variety of contemporary and national settings. So we can find images of Jesus in a Korean setting and representations of Jesus as black, Asian, Maori. More than one artist has painted Jesus as a woman. The crucified Jesus has been used to represent the oppressed as in the agonised Christ of South American origin which spoke to all those who were tortured and killed for choosing to stand with the poor. In more recent times, we have been exposed to controversial and challenging images such as the Piss Christ.

Other forms of artist expression also struggle to bring Jesus into our contemporary world – movies such as Jesus Christ Superstar, Godspell, The Last Temptation of Christ, all in different ways struggle to make Jesus real for the society of the time. Works of fiction such as the Narnia series and the Joshua books also try to tell the story in a way that will speak to a new generation. Today the new medium of the internet allows a wide variety of expression. If you type in “pictures of Christ” on You tube you can find everything from speed painting the crucifixion, through cartoons to comedy – images which are traditional and images which are contemporary and which range from the shocking to the sentimental.

Of course, all of us have a problem when we try to picture Jesus. During his lifetime, no artist captured his image and no writer described him. We have more information on the appearance of the apostle Paul than we do of Jesus.  Most of us, if we are honest have a mental picture of a bearded, long haired Caucasian man, probably about five-foot ten with attractive features. Depending on our preference or on the art to which we’ve been exposed Jesus is blonde with blue eyes or dark haired with brown eyes. In reality he was almost certainly a short, stocky, dark, hook-nosed Palestinian, with untidy hair and beard. We simply have no way of knowing.

I wonder then, if Jesus were to return today, how would we recognise him? What characteristics would we be looking for – gentleness or strength, conservatism or activism? Would we recognise him by his teaching or simply by his presence? Would he be identifiable by his concern for the outcast and for the despised among us? Would his presence among us be healing and comforting, or would it be radical, divisive and confronting? Are we expecting Jesus to appear all in white surrounded by light – obvious to all and sundry? Or are we prepared for him to simply come among us unannounced and indistinguishable from any other person whom we might know?

In today’s gospel, we have two scenes from the life of Jesus. At two different times and on two different sides of the lake – Jesus is recognised by the people. In the first instance, they are so keen to see him that they race ahead and reach his destination before him. In the second, as soon as he appears, people gather from everywhere. There is nowhere Jesus can go – in the cities, the villages and in the farms he is recognised by those who see him.
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It seems self-evident to us that he would be instantly recognizable. Yet that was not the case, those in authority certainly were not convinced, and thought that the populace were deluded and foolish to be so taken in. They were so convinced that they knew what they were looking for, that they failed to see what was right in front of them. Worse still, they were so affronted by Jesus’ popularity that they plotted to destroy him.

We would be wise not to be complacent, but to be always on the lookout, ready and expectant for Jesus to appear among us. It would be sensible to be so conversant with the Jesus of scripture, his teaching and his life, that we would know him when we saw him. It would be judicious to develop and deep and real relationship with Jesus in the present that will inform and enlighten us in the future. We would be prudent to maintain an openness and receptiveness to God’s revelation, so that should Jesus appear we would be ready to greet him wherever and however he might come..

Are we, like those in today’s gospel, full of expectation and hope, going out to where Jesus will be, or are we, like the authorities, hanging back, convinced that we know all there is to know and waiting instead for Jesus to come to us?

Pentecost 6
Mark 6:14-29
Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to serve, regardless of the cost. Amen.

Though the account of the death of John the Baptist stands as a story on its own, when seen in context, it reads as if it is an interruption to Mark’s narrative. Mark has just described the sending out of the twelve disciples. The story of the Baptist’s death is introduced in relation to Herod’s hearing of what Jesus was doing. However verse thirty continues on from verse 13. The disciples return from their mission and report to Jesus about their experiences: “The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught.” Mark fills in the time between the sending out of the disciples and their return with the gruesome story of Herod and the death of John the Baptist.

Herod who has heard what Jesus is doing is apparently struck by a guilty conscience. Could this miracle worker be Jesus is John the Baptist now raised from the dead? Though Mark reports that there are a number of explanations for Jesus’ power – he is Elijah returned, or simply a prophet – Mark returns to Herod who is obviously convinced that Jesus is John the Baptist whom he executed.

Mark interrupts his story about the disciples’ mission, because – to this point – he has made no mention of John’s death. John can only be raised if he has first died, so the author of Mark needs to record how John died. John has to have died, if he has now risen. Mark also uses this opportunity to introduce the anti-Herodian sentiment that existed among the Jews.

Herod’s family would make good content for a soap opera. Herod is one of Herod the Great’s ten children. Herodias is the granddaughter of Herod the Great. This means that Herodias is not only the wife first of one and then another son of the same father, she is also the niece to both of them. Her daughter, presumably from her first marriage, then marries a third of the brothers – Phillip (her great uncle). No wonder the Jews were affronted. Herodias has divorced a husband to marry his brother. This, to the Jews, is akin to committing adultery.  The ambitious behaviour of the women of this family was a further cause for offense. Not only does Herodias abandon her husband, but she apparently encourages her daughter (a princess, no less) to degrade herself by dancing before an all male company including her step-father. (Respectable women did not join men at a banquet, let alone dance for them.)

It is not surprising then, that John should have taken it on himself to call Herod and Herodias to account. Nor is it surprising that Herodias in particular should have taken affront. The couple had reason to feel insecure enough to want to silence John. When Herod divorced his first wife, she fled to her father Aretas IV of Nabatea. Nabatea bordered Herod’s territory and Herod was worried that Aretas might launch a revenge attack. The last thing he needed was a disturbance at home, whipped up by a troublesome prophet.

Herod and Herodias differed as to what should be done. According to Mark’s account, Herod was both attracted to and perplexed by John’s teaching, he wanted to avoid riots, but not to the extent of killing the Baptist. Herodias, perhaps worried that Herod would divorce her, in order to avoid the Nabatean attack, wanted the Baptist dead. She bides her time and then seizes her opportunity which comes when Herod holds a banquet for leading figures in his court and in the community. Perhaps she knows his weakness for a pretty face. In a move that would have been considered quite improper, she sends her daughter to dance for the men. Herod is so captivated that he offers an extravagant reward (probably not half his kingdom, but something extremely generous). The daughter appears not to have been fully let into her mother’s plan. She needs to seek her advice. Herodias is ready – she wants John’s head. To this request the daughter adds that John’s head be brought on a platter, a particularly gruesome detail in the context of a banquet.

Herod is caught. If he breaks his promise not only he will lose face but he faces the risk of incurring a curse and so, reluctantly, he complies with the request.

There are a number of details about Mark’s account which have been called into question its historicity. Compared with the Jewish historian Josephus, Mark has a number of inaccuracies – the place of death, the name of Herod’s brother, and the likelihood of a princess dancing at a banquet. In addition, the story has elements of folk-lore. It is reminiscent of Old Testament stories like that of Elijah and Jezebel, and also of Greco-Roman stories of love, revenge, rash oaths and women asking for what kings would rather not give in the context of royal banquets. While we can’t vouch for its historical accuracy, what we can say for certain is that Herod had the Baptist arrested and that Herod executed John.

Coming as it does after the account of the rejection of Jesus at Nazareth, Mark’s record of the Baptist’s death alerts the reader to the fact that should Jesus continue his current trajectory, he too risks causing the degree of offense which could lead to death. In fact there are a number of similarities between Jesus’ passion and that of Jesus’ death. The weak Herod is mirrored in the weak Pilate. Both are anxious to avoid a riot, both know that the accused do not deserve death and yet, they do not have the courage to stand by their convictions. The deaths of both John and Jesus are a public affair, and in both cases their disciples recover their bodies to give them a decent burial.

Throughout the ages, saints and martyrs have discovered that there is a cost to speaking the truth and that challenging unjust or repressive regimes can lead to imprisonment and even death. Those who have gained power by devious or irregular means do not take easily to criticism or confrontation and will try to eliminate any opposition. Despite the risks, prophets in every age have had the clarity of vision, the certainty of purpose and the courage of our convictions to identify injustice and to confront it, to discern moral laxity and to challenge it. You and I may or may not be called to put our lives on the line for what we believe. That does not mean we can afford to be complacent. We are called, in every circumstance to seek the will of God and to strive to fulfill it in the face of opposition from family and friends and the society around us. We pray that God will not bring us to the time of trial. Let us also pray, that should the occasion demand it, we will not shrink from speaking and living the truth, no matter what the cost might be.

Pentecost 5
Mark 6:1-13
Marian Free

In the name of God who shakes our certainties and challenges our smugness. Amen.

Try to imagine that one day you come to church and discover that one of the children who has grown up here and who has attended Sunday School and Youth Group has returned as an adult. You are excited to see her and even more excited when you discover that she has been asked to address the congregation. All your memories of her childhood days flood back. You remember how she played with the other children – perhaps even your own children. She was always so good – willing to lend a hand, considerate of the older members of the congregation, good with the children. Even her teenage years were calm and placid as she blossomed into a beautiful young woman.

You are surprised then, even a little shocked, when you finally see her. Gone are the tidy, appropriate clothes and the neat hair. She is scruffy – even a little wild – as if she has been living rough. In fact she appears quite different from the person you knew.  Nothing however, prepares you for what happens when she opens her mouth! Surely this isn’t the same person – the child who collectively you raised, who shared your values and embraced your faith! In her place is a provocative and challenging radical. She implies that you are hypocrites, that instead of keeping the commandments of God, you are keeping human traditions. The things she says – sell all your possessions, let the dead bury the dead, love your enemies, not everyone who says: “Lord, Lord will enter the kingdom of heaven!

In no uncertain terms she denigrates the practice of the church leaders as false piety and she makes outrageous claims about sinners – even prostitutes getting into heaven before you! She states that what it says in scripture applies to her.

As you squirm in your pews you might think: “How dare she? Has she forgotten who she is, where she is? What happened to all the good principles on which she was raised? Where did she learn such disrespect for those who taught her? You would be justified in feeling threatened and insulted. If you did, your reaction might be to distance yourself, to reassure yourself by making out that you can’t give possibly give any credence to what she might say. After all, she is only a car park attendant, the daughter of Mary – and now you remember – you were never really sure about the father.

If this wasn’t enough to restore your equilibrium, you might call up the rumours that you had heard, but had previously discounted. Apparently she doesn’t care who she associates with – she has meals with the most inappropriate people. What is worse, she appears to wander all around the countryside trying to build up a following by performing miracles to impress the simple-minded. (Now you think about it, she has performed no miracles here.)

If you were to build up a picture of her as someone who is quite disreputable, you would discover that what she had said had no power to distress you. You know who she is and where she comes from after all. What right has she to say such things? Why should anyone take notice of her? In this way you would reassure yourself that she was way out of line. She is far too scandalous for you to allow yourself to be upset by what she might say. You would be able to return to your comfortable existence, your world view could remain as it always was, your beliefs and practices could continue unchallenged and the ripples she caused disappear out of mind.

Jesus has become so domesticated that it is difficult to believe that he caused so much offense that his own people not only plotted to destroy him, but eventually succeeded. Those of us who grew up on the “gentle Jesus, meek and mild” can find it hard to believe that he was anything but a comforting presence. Why would anyone get upset by his teaching we might ask?

Yet, here in his own home town, he causes so much umbrage, that those attending the synagogue are reduced to insult and disparagement in order to avoid taking seriously anything he says. After all, they reassure themselves, isn’t he only a carpenter, the son of Mary – and weren’t we always suspicious about the circumstances of his birth? He lacks the respectability that would be expected in teacher, so his teaching can be ignored or disregarded. By questioning Jesus’ status in life, his listeners are able to distance themselves from his teaching. Someone of his reputation has no right to criticize them or to tell them how to behave! The problem is solved – the messenger is successfully discredited so the difficult teaching can be ignored.

Many of the religious people of Jesus’ time were comfortable with their way of life and their practice of the faith. They felt confident that they understood their scriptures and that knew what they needed to do and how they needed to behave in order to be right with God. They were, by and large, good and moral people. They did all the right things. They attended synagogue, observed the festivals, ate the right food and observed the Sabbath. They gave to the poor and kept themselves apart from those who might pollute or contaminate them – gentiles, tax-collectors, prostitutes. The problem was that they were pleased with themselves, they were self-satisfied and smug – they felt they had their salvation all sewn up.

Jesus upsets their comfortable view of the world. They expect him to praise them for their goodness, instead he accuses them of being nowhere near good enough. Their reliance on their own goodness has reduced their reliance on God. In fact, by acting as their own judge and jury, they have put themselves in God’s place! Who needs God to differentiate good and bad when they can do it for themselves?

We, with them, discover to our shock, that Jesus’ greatest condemnation was not of the sinner, but of those who believed they were righteous. He commended those who, knowing their faults, humbly threw themselves on the mercy of God and he criticized those who had become so self-assured that they had dispensed with the need for God.

When we think we have nothing left to learn, we forget that God is beyond the reach of our human understanding. When we think that we are already good enough, our very smugness isolates us from God. When we allow ourselves to become comfortable with God and of our place before God, we find we have allowed our beliefs and values to define who and what God is.

If we are unsettled or dismayed by what Jesus says, is it because what Jesus says cannot be right or because we are so confident in ourselves that we believe that we do not need to change?