Posts Tagged ‘compassion’

Prayer changes us

June 17, 2023

Pentecost 3 – 2023
Matthew 9:35-10:8
Marian Free

In the name of God whose faith in us is beyond our imagining. Amen.

How and for what do you pray? What do you expect from your prayers? Are you sometimes completely overwhelmed by the needs of the world? Do you sometimes feel that you are inadequate for the task – that even if you did pray hard enough there would not be enough people who cared enough to alleviate suffering? Do you worry that no matter how much you pray some situations simply remain the same? Do you wonder why God does not appear to act?

At the moment many of our prayers are focussed on the peoples of the Ukraine and Sudan, but there are conflicts all over the world that equally deserve our attention and our prayers. When I wonder did you or your church community last pray for the Khmer, the people of Syria or of the Congo or the countless other places still at war? We are rightly focussed on refugees who have fled recent conflicts and especially those who risk drowning at sea, but that means we tend to forget that there are thousands who have lived in refugee camps their entire lives or that in Palestine there are generations of families who have lived in camps. It is the same situation with victims of natural disasters – we simply cannot pray for everyone impacted by fire, flood, cyclone, and our memories tend to focus on more recent events. In 2020, COVID took our attention away from those who had lost everything in the bush fires of January that year and the floods in Northern NSW and elsewhere are, to many of us a distant memory – and yet there are hundreds, if not thousands of people (in this nation alone) who are still trying to rebuild homes and lives.

At the moment those who are impacted by the increased cost of living, rising interest rates and the rental crisis are front and centre in the minds of many of us and yet we are limited in what we can actually do. Our contribution to a Parish Pantry or other charities will not alleviate the pain for one family even for one day, and few of us can afford to purchase accommodation that could be made available for the homeless.

In the face of such mind-numbing issues, it is tempting to wish that God would wave a magic wand, end wars and alleviate poverty and suffering in the world. Yet if that were how God solved problems there would be no need to pray. God would already have responded. Why, in the face of so much anguish does God appear to stand idly by? The answer of course is complex, but God’s apparent inaction reflects God’s faith in us and God’s longing for us to be a part of the solution.

That this is how God responds is reflected in this morning’s gospel, especially in verses 36-38: ‘When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”’

First century Palestine had been under Roman occupation for decades. Land that once fed generations of families had been taken by the occupiers and given as a reward to Caesar’s soldiers. Everything was taxed – the roads, the crops, the right to fish. The church authorities were either Roman appointments or were people who had cow towed to the Romans. As a consequence, the vast majority of the population felt harassed, oppressed and utterly powerless to effect change.

Faced with the suffering and helplessness of the people, Jesus seems to be overwhelmed. You can almost hear him sigh with despair as he observes that they are like sheep without a shepherd. He is filled with compassion. The Greek word “splagnizothai” (compassion) refers to an emotion felt deep within one’s belly, with one’s whole self. In other words, Jesus’ inner being was overwhelmed with concern – but, like God, Jesus doesn’t wave a magic wand. Indeed, he doesn’t even enlist God’s assistance. Instead, what Jesus does is to pray that there might be enough will in enough people to bring about change.

The need is clear, the solution is not to miraculously make it go away but to send people to fill the need – people of compassion – to heal, to console, to challenge unjust structures, to work for peace.

Seen another way, Jesus prays not for the world to change, but for us to change. As long as there are greedy, selfish, power-hungry people in the world there will be wars, injustice, and inequity. As long as people put themselves first we will continue to rape the planet, change the weather patterns, and induce climate change. As long we continue to believe that it is someone else’s (God’s) problem nothing will change.

Mother Teresa said: “I used to believe that prayer changes things, but now I know that prayer changes us and we change things.

In the end, prayer should change us. It should open us to the ways in which we contribute to the ills of the world; reveal to us our selfishness and lack of action; and open us to the Spirit of God working within us.

We are called to be God’s co-conspirators in changing the world for the better.
We are the labourers for whom Jesus prays. Only when we change can we begin to change the world.

Compassion before the law

October 2, 2021

Pentecost 19 – 2021
Mark 10:2-16
Marian Free

In the name of God who desires that we might have life and have it to the full. Amen.

Last weekend the Anglican Church of Southern Queensland met for its annual Synod. There will I hope, be a report from your Synod representatives but I did want to comment on a couple of motions that stood out for me. One was the motion regarding intimate partner violence. The motion called on the Synod to acknowledge the recent report of the General Synod Family Violence Working Group which revealed that there was a higher incidence of domestic violence among Anglicans than in the population as a whole. The motion requested the establishment of a Diocesan Family Violence Working Group to oversee the work of policy development, training and education on prevention, intervention, and response. Though some voiced concern that the statistics used in the report might not be accurate, there was overwhelming support for the motion. What stood out though was the amendment that suggested that if Synod was really serious about raising awareness about domestic violence and of finding ways to end it that we should fund a full-time position for someone to do the work. Motions that ask for money not already in the budget usually fail, but this one did not.

A second motion that caught my attention and that caused some controversy was one that encouraged our Synod to take responsibility for the document Faithfulness in Service – the code of conduct for all clergy, office bearers and volunteers in the Diocese. A significant number of Synod members argued against the change. They were worried that this represented a movement away from the national standards and that if we passed it would be in direct contradiction to the recommendations of the Royal Commission that urged the church to have a consistent set of guidelines across the country. Even though a considerable number of other dioceses have already claimed the right to make changes in the document and even though The Chancellor, Justice Mullens pointed out that different states imposed different regulations that had to be followed, many Synod Representatives were still uncomfortable with the motion. It was only when Bishop Cameron spoke that the mood of Synod completely changed. His point was this: that if a national document insisted (for example) that divorcees not be permitted to hold office in our church, that in all probability a significant number of Synod representatives would have to stand down. He guessed, apparently correctly, that among those present there were more than a few people who fell into that category and that that might be something our Synod would have an opinion on. He was right and after his speech the motion passed.

Today’s gospel deals with divorce. The Pharisees were trying to catch Jesus out on a legal issue, in this instance the justification for divorce. This was a question on which they themselves could not agree. Deuteronomy 24:1 reads: “Suppose a man enters into marriage with a woman, but she does not please him because he finds something objectionable about her, and so he writes her a certificate of divorce, puts it in her hand, and sends her out of his house; she then leaves his house and goes off to become another man’s wife. Then suppose the second man dislikes her, writes her a bill of divorce, puts it in her hand, and sends her out of his house (or the second man who married her dies); her first husband, who sent her away, is not permitted to take her again to be his wife after she has been defiled.”. The passage doesn’t mention adultery, but Shammai and his disciples argued that the only grounds on which a man could divorce his wife was adultery. Hillel and his followers took Deuteronomy more literally and claimed that a wife could be divorced for anything that annoyed or embarrassed her husband.

It must be remembered that women in the first century had no legal status, no means of earning an income and were completely dependent on their husband. A woman who was divorced would (unless their father was alive) or a brother took her in have no means of support and would be forced to beg to survive.

Jesus will not be drawn into the argument of the Pharisees. Instead, he points to a completely different verse – Genesis 2:24 – in marriage a man and a woman become one flesh. The only reason for divorce, Jesus suggests is adultery. In responding to the question of the Pharisees, Jesus is less concerned with quibbling over the fine details of the law and more concerned with the protection of the vulnerable. Compassion, in Jesus’ worldview, always comes before the rigid enforcement of one law or another.

That the discussion on divorce has to do with concern for and the protection of the vulnerable becomes clear when we place it in its literary context. The reference to children with which today’s reading concludes takes us back to the mention of children in the gospel of two weeks ago. On that occasion Jesus challenged his bickering disciples by placing a child in their midst and insisting that they welcome the vulnerable, the least worthy and those who would diminish rather than enhance their status. Last week, we saw that Jesus continued this theme by insisting that the disciples note that the consequence of causing harm to any one of “these little ones” was catastrophic.

If Jesus primary mandate for discipleship is to protect and welcome the vulnerable, then it could be argued that we (collectively) have failed miserably over the centuries. As we have learned to our shame, we have utterly failed to keep vulnerable children safe, we have perpetuated misinterpretations of scripture that have led to domestic violence, or which have kept people in unhappy marriages. We have abandoned or mistreated single mothers and judged those who don’t meet our standards. Contrary to Jesus’ example we have argued over details of the law rather than consider the plight of the poor, the marginalised and the dispossessed.

All this could be different. If like Jesus we put compassion first, we would not be so concerned about the meaning of the law but would always see the needs of those around us and be compelled to release them from their suffering.

Separation Anxiety

July 17, 2021

Pentecost 8 – 2021
Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
Marian Free

In the name of God who understands our every need. Amen.

Anyone who has ever had to care for a toddler will know that there is no such thing as privacy. Toddlers have not yet found their place in the world. Their sense of security is still tied up with the adults with whom they are most familiar, and they want to be wherever those adults are.

Specialists tell us that separation anxiety is perfectly normal in children between 8 and 14 months. This is when they are starting to move around independently but concurrently they are losing the closeness and security that was associated with being carried from place to place and of having an adult with them when they entered new surroundings. At this stage of their development, children have not yet learned that separations from parents are not permanent and as babies have no concept of time, it is easy for them to imagine that a parent who moves out of sight is gone for ever .

For a child who is just learning to crawl or walk, the world has suddenly expanded, and it will take time for her (or him) to feel confident and secure in this new setting. This means that they will want to keep their primary caregiver within sight so that they can be reassured that they are safe. No wonder it is impossible for a parent or baby-sitter to have a shower or even to close the toilet door when the child is awake! The child just needs to know that you are still there. All the same having a child on your tail all day can be trying and a simple pleasure like taking a shower can become pure luxury.

The account of the beheading of John the Baptist has interrupted Mark’s narrative regarding the sending out of the disciples. At the beginning of chapter six Jesus sent out the twelve and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. The twelve went out and “cast out many demons and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.”

Our gospel today picks up the story. The apostles have returned after their successful mission. No doubt they are both are excited and overwhelmed by all that God has worked through them. They are almost certainly exhausted by their efforts and are bursting to share with Jesus and each other about all their experiences.

Not surprisingly, the crowds are excited too. Impressed by what they have witnessed, or wanting to bask in the disciples’ reflected glory, they are terrified that if they let Jesus out of their sight he and his friends might just disappear and leave them in a vacuum. Plus, there is so much that they simply do not understand. In their anxiety they press in on Jesus and the disciples such that ‘there was no leisure’ for Jesus and the disciples ‘even to eat’, let alone time for them to rest.

Whatever Jesus own needs are, he perceives that the twelve need time and space to process all that has happened to them and all that has been accomplished. He suggests that they find somewhere quiet– a place in the wilderness away from distractions and from the press of the crowds. Escape proves impossible. Jesus’ plan is thwarted. The crowds, like toddlers, cannot bear to be separated from Jesus. Their sense of the world and of who they are, has been challenged by Jesus’ teaching and actions. They are no longer the people they were – dependent on the priest and Pharisees, but they are a long way off being independent. They have not yet fully grasped what it means to be a follower of Jesus and what faith they have is tentative and uncertain. Jesus has opened the door to a new way of being and a new way of seeing but their understanding is limited and not fully formed. They are worried that without Jesus and/or the disciples there will be no one to help them to make sense of or to help them to navigate the new world that is opening before them.

So, when the people see Jesus get into the boat with the disciples, they anticipate where he is going and race ahead on foot.

Instead of finding the peace and quiet he longs for, Jesus arrives on the shore to see a great crowd but, like a patient parent, he does not get back into the boat and go somewhere else. He does not sigh in frustration or explode in anger nor does not send the crowd away or demand to be left alone. Jesus can see these people for who they are – lost, immature in faith and longing for someone to lead them. They are like toddlers, insecure, anxious, dependent, not sure that they are safe, not confident that they can find their way on their own. To use Jesus’ language, they are like ‘sheep without a shepherd’. Peace (like a shower) will have to wait. Jesus understands that however much he needs time and space to reflect, he will need to attend to the needs of these people before he can begin to meet the needs of himself and his disciples.

And what do they need? They need to learn and to grow. It is not miracles that will enable them to stand on their own two feet. Casting out demons will not help them to discern what Jesus is offering or to grasp the new horizons that are opening out before them. So, Jesus doesn’t heal but teaches them many things. He tries to give them the tools that they need to grow in faith and understanding, to equip them to develop their own relationship with God.

Sometimes we come across people who make demands on our time or who seem to want to claim our attention even when we are busy or focussed on something else. Such people can seem immature, selfish, and demanding. If we take a leaf out of Jesus’ book perhaps we can try to see what drives their behaviour and, while not allowing ourselves to be taken advantage of, we can demonstrate patience, compassion and understanding instead of sending them away empty handed.

Which kingdom?

January 25, 2020

Epiphany 3 – 2020

Matthew 4:12-23

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us not only to follow but to serve God and serve others. Amen.

 There are a number of benefits to social media, but equally there are a number of downsides. These include bullying, spreading ‘false news’ and creating narratives that do not necessarily reflect the whole picture. This is illustrated to some extent by the content on some of the local sites. There have been a number of break-ins in the area recently and a couple of other nasty situations. Despite information from the police that suggest that the situation is not much worse than previously and that Clayfield and the surrounding suburbs are a safe place to life and/or work; repeated posts on Facebook seem to be creating an atmosphere of fear, which can lead to withdrawal, self-preservation and in turn a lack of compassion.

 It is possible that this was played out in another story that was posted on the same site. It reads: “This morning I witnessed the saddest situation on Seymour road. A young man was laying face down-still on the ground. As I approached in my car I witnessed a couple step over him and continue on their walk…another woman with a dog walk around him, quickening her pace…another gent crossed the road. No one appeared to care.”

Our gospel reading today continues the theme of light that continues through Epiphany. “The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.” Matthew is quoting Isaiah chapter 9. Isaiah is writing in the context of the Assyrian occupation of Israel. He is encouraging the people to maintain their faith in God, reminding them that God will send a king who will defeat the invaders and who will introduce a time of endless peace. Centuries later, Matthew’s audience would have understood that when Isaiah names Zebulun and Naphtali he is referring to the lands promised by God to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the lands that Moses saw and into which Joshua led the people of Israel.

In Jesus’ time the promised dawn must have appeared to be a distant hope. Galilee (Zebulun and Napthali) were once again under the oppressive yoke of a Gentile nation. This time it was the Romans. Occupation by the Romans had had more than a demoralizing effect. Under Caesar’s rule farming land had been usurped and given to others, depriving families of a means of earning an income and dependent on others for work. Exorbitant and crippling taxes resulted in poverty which led to poor diets, poor hygiene and therefore to poor health. Into this situation of despair Jesus came – announcing a very different situation – the kingdom of God – the reign of God that would bring restoration and peace, rather than oppression and devastation.

Jesus has barely appeared on the scene when he insisted that the fishermen, Peter and Andrew, James and John, follow him. These four are to be the first of many – women and men – who will be caught up in in vision of God’s rule and whose lives will be given meaning and purpose where before there was only drudgery and hopeless. It was a radical move, but it may not have been as hard as we think for Peter and Andrew, James and John to drop everything and follow Jesus. Fishing was demanding, exhausting and often unrewarding work. As fishermen they might have had a semblance of independence, but their boats were almost certainly owned by a Roman invader to whom they would have owed a percentage of their catch, more of the catch would have gone to pay taxes for using the roads and for selling the fish. At the end of the day there would have been little left for themselves.

Jesus’ confidence obviously attracted the men and what is more, he has offered them a future, a new role – fishing for people – whatever that might mean. Instead of being caught up in an endless, soul-destroying occupation that brought little to no financial reward, instead of a daily grind that barely sustained their families, the brothers are called to a role in the kingdom that Jesus has come to proclaim. He must have symbolized the hope of a future that, until now, seemed out of reach. He has given the men a purpose, a reason to hope and to dream. They have no hesitation in joining Jesus in announcing the advent of God’s reign.

No sooner has Jesus begun to gather followers than he begins his mission in earnest – not only teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom but curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

The Roman Empire brought destruction poverty and despair. Jesus brought healing and wholeness. The Roman Empire imposed its rule by force. Jesus drew people to him through empathy and concern. The Roman Empire subjugated conquered peoples to its will. Jesus encouraged loyalty through the power of his presence and his word. The Roman Empire quashed opposition through fear. Jesus did not fear competition but encouraged others to join him in his enterprise. The Roman Empire disempowered it subjects. Jesus gave to his followers meaning and purpose.

The Roman Empire was dominated by fear. Jesus modelled a kingdom governed by compassion. The Roman Empire built walls of self-interest, self-preservation and disdain to isolate themselves from the suffering of the conquered, the poor and the disenfranchised. Jesus opened himself to the misery and pain of the outcast, the marginalised and the oppressed.

The Roman Empire is a distant memory, but we who are followers of Jesus continue to exist in two dimensions – the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the world. How we respond to threats and how we react to those who are do not fit the norm are a reflection of the kingdom in which we feel most at home. Perhaps we need to ask ourselves whether we are beginning to pull up the drawbridge to keep ourselves safe or whether Jesus’ love and compassion continues to determine our reaction to others and to the world around us.

God’s trust in us

October 6, 2018

Pentecost 20 – 2018.

Mark 10:2-16

Marian Free

In the name of God who trusts us to make wise and compassionate decisions in a changing world. Amen.

I am applying for a new passport. The last time I applied the choice of gender was simply between male and female. Now there is an opportunity to tick a box “Indeterminate/Intersex/Unspecified”. A lot has changed in ten years. When discussing the School’s report at Synod yesterday one of the comments/questions related to the way in which one of our schools handled the sensitive issue of a child who was ‘transitioning’ from one gender to another (you may have seen reference to this on the news). The person who brought the issue to our attention praised the response of the school and asked whether there was a uniform approach to similar situations across Anglican schools. I have to admit that I was surprised, but pleased, to hear that in January the Heads of Schools will be addressed by an expert in that field.

I had a fairly enlightened upbringing. In an era in which divorce was spoken of in hushed whispers, my parents spoke openly of the few members of the church and among their acquaintances whose marriages came to an end. In the past fifty years or so there have been many changes to our social and cultural landscape that could not have been envisaged 50 years ago or even 15 years ago. We laughed at Mr Humphries in Are you Being Served, but did not imagine that gay marriage would become part of the social fabric, or that gay couples would become natural or adoptive parents. During my childhood the notion that there were people, even children, who felt that they had been born into the wrong body would have been completely novel to a majority of the population.

If the difference between the world of my childhood and the world today is huge, the differences between first century Palestine and 21st century Australia are vast as is the gap between the composition of the Torah and the time of Jesus. It would have been absolutely impossible for the writer of Genesis and Deuteronomy to envisage, let alone write for a time and culture so different from its own. It would have been equally difficult for Jesus to make pronouncements in the first century that would be as relevant now as they were then.

There is great wisdom in having only Ten Commandments – universal principles that govern our life together – as opposed to writing detailed, prescriptive laws that would prevent us from responding to changes and developments in the world around us.

The problem is that the lack of detail forces us to look for overarching principles as we seek to govern our lives together.

Todays’ gospel is more complex than a superficial reading would suggest. It includes two apparently distinct periscopes – one the question of divorce and the second Jesus’ welcome of children despite the disapproval of his disciples, Jesus’ response to the Pharisees and what Jesus says to his disciples. A closer look suggests that the stories were put together in order to emphasise the point that Jesus seems to be making – a view that is reinforced by a consideration of both the immediate and wider context. Earlier, in chapter nine, Jesus has placed a child in the midst of the disciples and said: “whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.” In first century Palestine children had no legal status and little to no value. Not only is Jesus identifying with those who are vulnerable and powerless, he is elevating them to his position! In today’s gospel Jesus welcomes and blesses the children whom the disciples consider to be beneath his notice. It seems clear that the writer is making a point about Jesus’ concern for those who have no status, no agency and no voice. He is overturning accepted behaviour and claiming another way of seeing the world or of responding to those of no account. This is reinforced by his earlier tirade against disciples who would cause harm to any of these “little ones” saying that; “If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea.” Such strong language is indicative of Jesus’ passion for the inclusion and protection of those who have no voice.

Jesus modelled both in his teaching and his actions a concern for those who were marginalised, disempowered and disenfranchised. He showed little respect for the social norms and cultural mores of his time. He demonstrated that compassion, tolerance and understanding overrode convention and tradition and he continued to welcome, include and call those who were reviled and excluded by his fellow countrymen and women. He implied that no law could ever adequately reflect the will of God and that laws, no matter how well intentioned, were a concession to human frailty and could not be held valid for all time and in all places.

We do not have a crystal ball to tell us what the future might throw at us. We cannot guess what we have still to learn about the human condition. What we do know is that God who created us loves us in all our wonderful diversity and complexity, that God in Jesus has demonstrated God’s concern for the vulnerable and dispossessed and that God has faith in us to make decisions that will lead to the inclusion and valuing and healing of all our brothers and sisters.

No room for neutrality

March 10, 2018

Lent 4 – 2018

John 3:14-21

Marian Free

In the name of God who so loved the world, that God sent his Son to save it. Amen.

Most of us would agree that it feels as though the world is teetering on the edge of disaster. We feel distressed by Trump’s apparently erratic behaviour, by Kim Jong On’s threats of nuclear war, by the intractable nature of the war in Syria, by the civil war and famine in south Sudan and Yemen, by the rise of the ultra-right in Europe and by the grab for power by dictators in more countries than one. We are rightly distressed by the plight of refugees, the increasing gap between the rich and poor and by corruption and the misuse of resources by those in power. We feel helpless in the face of terrorism and are frozen in indecision when we think about the damage that we are inflicting on the environment.

The world seems to be falling apart and we feel powerless to stop it.

That, at least is one way of seeing the world.

It is possible to see the situation quite differently. On Tuesday[1] Radio National’s Big Ideas presented a lecture by Gregg Easterbrook – writer for the Atlantic Monthly and the New York Times. Easterbrook pointed out that despite what appears to be evidence to the contrary, there are good reasons for optimism. Worldwide, malnutrition and extreme poverty are at historic lows, he says, and the risk of dying by war or violence is lower than at any point in human history. Everywhere in the world people are living longer and healthier. Contrary to what we see daily in our news, the frequency and intensity of war in the last 25 years is 5% of the rate wars of the previous century. According to the United Nations malnutrition is at its lowest point ever.

And those are just a few of the statistics that Easterbrook produced.

The world is an interesting and challenging place. On the one hand we as humans are capable of inflicting unimaginable suffering in places like Syria, and on the other hand we have not only reduced the threat of nuclear war, but in the last few decades the world as a whole has reduced its spending on all things military. On the one hand, we as humans are capable of the most appalling abuse of our fellow human beings when we traffic them into sexual or other forms of slavery and on the other hand, we are capable of acts of utter selflessness when we risk our lives to prevent the spread of deadly diseases or to bring relief to victims of wars and natural disasters.

The future of the world is both hopeless and hopeful, the nature of humanity is both heroic and despicable.

“God so loved the world, that he sent his only Son.” The world of the first century was no less violent, corrupt or inequitable than the world of the twenty-first century. Humanity was as cruel, as greedy and as violent then as it is now. Despite this, despite all the reasons for pessimism, God remained optimistic. God saw the potential in God’s creation and risked everything to save it.

That is not to say that God was or is naïve. The presence of Jesus in the world was not benign – anything but. Jesus was not and is not a comfortable Saviour. Jesus was (and is) confrontational and challenging. His very presence was divisive because it forced people to declare their hands. As the presence of God in the world, Jesus shone a light on injustice, oppression, greed, cruelty and exploitation. Jesus’ love and compassion exposed the baseness and insensitivity of those around him. His generosity and selflessness made people uncomfortable with their own greed and self-absorption. No one wants to feel that they are less than perfect. No one wants to have their flaws opened to the light of day, visible to the scrutiny of others. (They would rather remain in darkness.)

The person of Jesus revealed the true natures of those with whom he came into contact. People were either drawn to or repelled by him depending on their openness to change or their desire to maintain the status quo, their self-awareness or their smug self-satisfaction; their willingness to surrender control or their determination to hold on to their independence. Those who shared Jesus’ love of God and love of humanity found in him a source of hope and strength. Those who sought only their own advancement and gain, saw in Jesus a threat to their way of life. Those who desired to create a world of justice and peace found in Jesus a sense of purpose and direction. Those who were happy with the world as it was saw in Jesus only chaos and disorder.

“God so loved the world, that he sent his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” John 3:16 is not simply a comforting, comfortable verse that can be easily and blithely turned into some sort of simplistic Christian slogan. It challenges us to think about what it means to believe. The verses that follow tell us that unbelievers are those who do not want to have light shone on their selfishness, their meanness and their desire to dominate others. Unbelievers are those who are happy with the world the way that it is and do not want it to be saved.

Believing in Jesus means being committed ourselves to Jesus’ programme of loving the world. It means allowing both the good and the bad in us to be exposed to the light of God’s love and it means understanding that unless we allow ourselves to be changed we might be part of the problem rather than part of the solution.

God so loves the world that, through Jesus he enlists our help to save it. There is no room for neutrality – we are called to make a decision to come into the light or to remain forever in the darkness.

 

 

[1] March 6, 2018, Radio National, Big Ideas.

Our “nothing” will be more than enough

August 5, 2017

Pentecost 8 – 2017

Matthew 14:13-21

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who believes in us and pushes to believe that we can share in God’s work. Amen.

We are so familiar with the story of the feeding of the five thousand that we may not have noticed that Matthew, Mark, Luke and John each tell the story somewhat differently. There are many differences, but today I want to focus on the conversation between Jesus and the disciples. Matthew, Mark and Luke agree that the disciples urge Jesus to send the crowds away to find food (and lodging) and all three are agreed that Jesus turns the situation around and says to the disciples: “You give them something to eat.” If there are five thousand men, there may well have been ten or twenty thousand people if they had all brought one wife and two children. Five thousand mouths to feed would have been overwhelming, ten or twenty thousand would have presented and absolutely unimaginable feat. (The disciples must have wondered what Jesus was thinking!)

According to Mark the disciples respond to this extraordinary instruction by saying: “Shall we go and buy two hundred denarii worth of bread?” In Luke also the disciples suggest shopping for bread: “We have no more than five loaves and two fish – unless we are to go and buy food for all these people.” According to Matthew the disciples make no mention of buying bread. They say: “We have nothing, except five loaves and two fish”.

This is one instance in which John includes material that is found in the other three gospels, but in John’s account the conversation is quite different. According to John, Jesus takes the initiative. Before the crowds have even reached Jesus and the disciples, Jesus turns and asks Philip: “How are we to buy bread for all these people?” Philip, like the disciples in Mark, considers buying bread and like those disciples recognises that six months wages would not buy enough bread to give each person even a small amount.

John’s gospel gives a clue that may help us to understand what is happening here. He suggests that Jesus is testing the disciples. Now perhaps “test” is too strong a word for what is happening in Matthew, Mark and Luke, but it does seem possible that Jesus is putting the disciples on the spot, encouraging them to take responsibility for their own ministry and stretching them to see what they can do. The disciples are so used to Jesus taking the initiative that instead of doing something themselves they come to Jesus with their problem and expect him to do something about the impending dark and the need to manage such a large crowd. They have seen a need; they should use their own resources to try to meet it. So, instead of responding to their concern, Jesus put the responsibility back on them. “You do it,” he says. Was Jesus just worn out or did he, as John suggests, have another purpose in mind when he refused to act on the disciples’ request?

Let’s try to imagine the scenario as Matthew presents it. Jesus has just heard of the grisly death of John the Baptist. He needs time to grieve – and to process what this means for himself. Jesus tries to escape the crowds and takes a boat to a “lonely place”. However, by now the crowds know what he can do for them, and having seen the direction in which Jesus was heading, make their way there by foot. Jesus’ compassion overrides his need for time alone and he heals those who are sick. Evening arrives and the disciples begin to think about practical matters. Unless the crowd is dispersed now, it will soon be dark. The disciples seek Jesus out and tell him that he should send the crowds away to buy food before it gets too late.

Maybe Jesus has reached the limits of his endurance, maybe he is tired of the burden of responsibility or, more likely, Jesus wants the disciples to begin to take ownership of their ideas instead of expecting him to do everything. Either way, Jesus turns the situation around saying to the disciples: “You give them something to eat”.

The response of the disciples is contradictory: “We have nothing, but five loaves and two small fish.” Five loaves and two small fish is not nothing – it is something and, as we shall see it is something from which Jesus can make something much, much more.

How often do we depend on God to do or to fix something instead of doing what we can to help? How often do we think that we have nothing to offer instead of trusting God to use what we have? How often do we underestimate our own abilities instead of recognising the gifts God has given us? How often are we frozen in indecision instead of believing that God will guide and direct us if only we start moving?

In other words we have no excuse for sitting back and thinking that we are not worthy, or that we are not talented, or that we have nothing to offer, or that we do not have what God wants or needs. Our “nothing” is always something and, as so long as we have the confidence to offer it for God to use, God will ensure that it is always more than enough.

 

 

Longing to love

December 24, 2016

Midnight Mass – 2016

Marian Free

 In the name of God who longs to be in relationship with us and who willingly forsake power, glory and dominion to try to make that clear. Amen.

During the week I happened upon a movie titled: “Anywhere but here.” It tells the story of how two grown sons cope with the fact that their father is dying. The sons have been brought up in the Jewish faith, but have not been able to embrace its practices and beliefs. One son, Aidan, still has a connection with the synagogue because his father will pay his grandchildren’s school fees if they attend a Jewish school. As with many families there are unresolved issues and tensions that make the grieving process more complicated. At one point Aidan is compelled to go the synagogue and speak to a Rabbi. Aidan is confused because events in his life are leading him to the conclusion that God is trying to tell him something, but he doesn’t believe in God. Thankfully, the young Rabbi is wise. He asks Aidan if he ever feels “a spiritual presence”. Aidan replies that when he is showing his children the stars and trying to explain that the universe goes on forever and ever, that yes, he does get a sense of the spiritual.

The Rabbi responds: “Then think of that spirit leading and guiding you.” The Rabbi knows that Aidan has rejected the traditional ways of thinking about God and he is wise enough not to impose those ideas on him. Instead he asks Aidan to name how he knows and experiences God and runs with that.

Rejecting the God of one’s youth and yet having a yearning to connect with something deeper than the material is not unique to a person who has grown up in the Jewish faith. One of the problems that the church faces today is that there are many people who have walked away from the faith and yet have a sense of something other. There are many long to make contact with their spirituality but their search is blocked by language, dogma or ideas that offend or that no longer work or make sense to them.

If truth be told most of the ideas of God that people reject are ideas that we too reject, but it is possible for some to hear only one thing and a selective reading of the bible (by a preacher or by the reader) can give the impression of an angry, demanding, interventionist God, a selective God who expects conformity at least and obedience at best. It is relatively easy for to abandon this false idea of God, especially if that idea of God has been used to manipulate and control or to appear be remote from human affairs and indifferent to suffering and pain.

Christmas exposes that God for who and what it is – a false God based on a misunderstanding of both the Old Testament and the New.

At Christmas we are confronted, year after year with the God who is not strong or powerful, but who enters the world as a baby – vulnerable, helpless and utterly dependent. When God could not get through to us, when we had turned away from God or turned God into something that God is not, when we lost sight that God’s primary desire is to be in relationship with us, God in Christ came to us. God came among us not with lighting and thunder, waving a sword to condemn and destroy, but as a new-born child a child whom God hoped would demonstrate once and for all God’s love for all humankind – the good, the bad, the engaged and the indifferent, the kind and the unkind. That first Christmas God became powerless and impotent so that we would at last understand the depth and passion of God’s love and that we would see for ourselves God’s complete and total engagement with humanity and God’s participation in both our sorrows and our joys.

This is why we are here this and every Christmas. Our presence is not simply a result of habit or sentimentality. We are here, because we know that the child in the manger is God, that God chooses not to be remote, but to be an integral part of all that this life has to offer. The child in the manger and the man on the cross expose God for who and what God really is – an expression of the deepest love, the utmost compassion and the greatest longing to be in relationship, to be one with all creation.

 

 

 

Abundance not sacrifice – Lent is God’s gift to us, our gift to ourselves

March 12, 2016

Lent 5 – 2016

John 12:1-8

Marian Free

In the name of God whose outpouring of love is more than we can ever imagine.  Amen.

It is just possible that I am turning into a grumpy old woman or it may be that I am by nature someone who tends to take the world and faith seriously. Whatever it is, I have found myself being irritated or disappointed by the attitude that some people (particularly via social media) have taken towards Lent. There have been posts on Facebook by people bemoaning the fact that they are saying “goodbye” to beer or wine or some other treat for forty days as if Lent is a burden imposed upon them rather than something taken up freely. Other people have posted cartoons, which again make it seem that Lent is at worst some interminable punishment or at best a trial that has to be endured. To be fair, I am sure that most of the posts are from people who do take Lent seriously and who assume that their friends will understand that they are simply making light of it not expressing how they really feel.

It does concern me however that the negative messages about Lent, give the wrong idea – not only about the practice of Lent but about the Christian faith – to the non-Christians who hear or read them. Those who are not in on the secret could be forgiven for thinking that Lent is a period of misery expected by an exacting and demanding God instead of seeing it as a time of self-imposed abstinence that will liberate us to know more fully an indulgent and affirming deity.

The readings for the first four weeks of Lent have encouraged us to turn our lives around and to remove the barriers that separate us from the overwhelming abundance of God’s love. John the Baptist urged us to “repent” (literally – turn around), the parable of the fig tree reminded us that we share with all of humanity its frailty and imperfections, Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem gave us an insight into the sorrow experienced by God because of our refusal to accept God’s love and the parable of the two sons demonstrated God’s utter refusal to exclude us from that love and at the same time reminded us of the ways in which we place ourselves beyond the reach of God’s affection.

Today, as we approach the end of our forty days, we are confronted by a description of an act of intimacy, extravagance and tenderness – not of God towards us, but of Mary towards God. At first the gospel seems out of place an action of such beauty and lavishness seems to conflict with a time of fasting and self-denial.  But today’s gospel is a perfect fit – not only with the gospel readings that have preceded it, but also with the central purpose of Lent. In conjunction with the gospels of the past four weeks, today’s gospel sums up what Lent is about and what we can hope to achieve.

We discover, if we plumb the lectionary offerings, that Lent is primarily about ensuring that we are in the best condition possible to accept God’s love for us. We allow ourselves a period of prayer and self-examination to reflect on our lives and in particular to consider whether or not we are truly open to the love that God is constantly pouring out on us. Fasting and self-denial are not intended to be a way of  “mortifying” or denying the flesh” but a means of identifying and ridding ourselves of the obstacles that we place between ourselves and God – obstacles which are just as likely to be emotional and psychological as they are to be physical.

When we strip ourselves bare, when we purge ourselves of all the things that prevent us from experiencing the fullness of God’s love, we will be simply overwhelmed by the outpouring God’s grace and the generosity and the bounty of God’s affection. We will be astounded that God could love us so much and we will be acutely aware of our little we deserve that love.

Lent is a lesson of love, God’s extravagant, unconditional and boundless love, which is ours for the taking. The disciplines of Lent are not intended to weigh us down, but to prepare us to receive God’s love without question and without hesitation.

This is where Mary fits in. Mary, the sister of Lazarus, responds to God’s love with an extravagance that matches Jesus’ own. Mary is the perfect example of someone who has allowed herself to be stripped bare, who has opened herself completely and unreservedly to God’s scrutiny and in so doing has discovered not judgement but compassion, not condemnation but understanding, not rejection, but complete and total acceptance. Mary responds in the only way possible – with a demonstration of her deep and humble gratitude.

Even by today’s standards, Mary’s actions open her to disapproval – the loose hair, the public and intimate display of affection, the extravagance and waste. Yet for Mary there is no other response that will adequately express her reaction to God’s love for her. Mary throws caution, propriety and decorum to the wind. She has no thought of what others might think of her only that she must express her own love in a way that matches her experience of the love of God.

Lent then, is not so much about sacrifice as it is about abundance, not so much about self-denial as it is about self-acceptance, not so much about being unable to measure up, but about realizing that there is nothing against which to measure ourselves. Lent is less about sacrifice and more about abundance – about discovering the abundance that emanates from God and not from the world. Lent is less about will power and more about letting go – for it is only when we truly let go that we are able open ourselves to the wealth that is ours for the taking.

During Lent we identify and shed the obstacles that separate us from the love of God – a love so overwhelmingly abundant that it calls for a response that is extravagant, intimate and tender a response like that of Mary sister of Lazarus.

Forty days is not much to ask – in fact it almost seems far too little to give when we gain so much in return.

More to give – guidelines for modern living

July 18, 2015

Pentecost 8

Mark 6:31-34, 53-56

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who is the source of our strength and hope. Amen.

Whether it is caring for a baby, an elderly relative or disabled friend, many of us know the stresses and strains of being responsible for someone who is totally dependent on us. We know what it is like to fall into bed utterly worn out, only to be woken shortly after by a plaintiff cry, a shrill squeal or a grumpy moan. No matter how tired we are, we manage to drag ourselves out of bed and dig deep into our reserves to provide the love and care that is required. There are times though when we reach our limits, when we are so fatigued and physically and emotionally drained that we have little or nothing to give. If at those times we do not find a way to take a break we can end up not only by doing harm to ourselves but also to the person/child for whom we care.

Today those responsible for the care of the aged or those with a disability have access to some form of respite care. The government and society in general recognises that without extended families to share the role of caring, the burden often falls on just one person – sometimes someone who is as aged and frail as the person to whom the care is being offered.

In a world without psychologists and social workers, Jesus seems to have recognised how important it is to take time out to recharge the batteries, to seek spiritual, emotional and physical refreshment and to gather strength to meet the demands made upon those who care for others.

Today’s gospel consists of two fragments; so let me fill you in on the full story. Not long before today’s scenario, Jesus has sent the twelve out on their first mission. They have returned, filled with excitement and bursting to share with him everything that they have done and taught, but such is their renown that they are no longer getting a moment to themselves, not even time to eat – let alone process their new role and responsibilities and the demands that will be made on them as a result. Meanwhile, during the disciples’ absence, Jesus has heard about the death of John the Baptist – someone whom he admired and may even have followed for a while. Apart from the grief of losing a friend, Jesus bears a double burden in that he will have been forcefully reminded that the consequence of saying and doing uncomfortable things may be a violent and untimely death.

All of them, Jesus and the disciples, need some time out to think about what has been happened, to consider how their lives have changed by becoming representatives of the possibility that their discipleship might lead to death. At the same time, if they are to keep on giving of themselves to the many who seek their help they need some time to rebuild their reserves before leaping back into the fray. Jesus recognises this need and suggests that they go to a deserted place by themselves. Rest it turns out is impossible. People who are seeking their teaching and healing notice the direction in which the boat is heading and run ahead to meet them there.

Like the 88-year-old wife who gets up at 3:00am and uncomplainingly changes the sheets that her husband has unconsciously soiled, Jesus puts the needs of the crowd before his own need for rest. It is obvious to him that the people are desperate for leadership, for healing and for teaching – they are like “sheep without a shepherd”. Just as it is impossible for most parents to ignore a crying child, so it is not in Jesus nature to turn away those who need him. He has “compassion” for the crowd and not only heals and teaches, but manages to feed all five thousand with just five loaves and two small fish.

At last, having met the needs of those who came out to him, Jesus dismisses the crowd and sends the disciples ahead of him to Bethsaida while he himself, makes the most of the opportunity and goes up the mountain to pray. Whether because of the storm, or more likely because Mark has no real interest in geography, Jesus and the disciples land at Gennesaret on the opposite side of the lake. As we have heard, they were immediately recognised and people from all around brought those who were sick to be healed.

We all know the expression: “Stop to smell the roses” and our print media is always providing advice as to how to achieve a “work/life balance”. Not surprisingly, Jesus was there long before us. The gospels are not simply the story of Jesus, a partially historical record locked in time. The gospels provide help and guidelines for modern living – even for life in the twenty-first century. Spiritually, emotionally and physically none of us can keep on going without a rest. If we are to be of use to others spiritually, emotionally or physically we need to ensure that our own reserves are well stocked up. If our prayer lives are barren and empty, we have nothing to offer those who are looking for spiritual sustenance. If we are emotionally drained, we will have nothing to draw on when others come to us seeking love and care. If we are physically spent, we cannot offer support to those who need it. For all those reasons, it is essential that we build into our own lives times for contemplation and reflection, moments that feed our hearts and our souls and times of rest to allow our bodies to recover.

As disciples of Jesus we are called to give our all and to believe that when we feel we can’t go on God will support and uphold us. But we can’t give if we have nothing left to give. Jesus invites us to come away to a deserted place and rest. Let us accept that invitation so that our reserves are not depleted and that we always have more to give.