Posts Tagged ‘conflict’

Give to Caesar

October 21, 2023

Pentecost 21 – 2023
Matthew 22:15-33
Marian Free

In the name of God who thoughts are not our thoughts and whose ways are not our ways. Amen.

In 2008 a movie, Frost/Nixon, recreated the famous 1977 interview during which aspiring talk show host Peter Frost was able to squeeze from President Nixon a confession that he had engaged in unethical behaviour. Nixon even said: “When the President does it, it’s not illegal.” At that point the President’s minders interrupted the interview, but by then Frost had the upper hand. He progressively pursued his line of questioning and managed to extract a confession that the President had engaged in a cover up. At the conclusion of the interview President Nixon said: “Sometimes you say things that are really in your heart, when you are thinking in advance then you say things that are a terror to the audience. I let down my friends. I let down the country, I let down our system of government all the dreams of those young people that ought to get into government but who will think it’s all too corrupt and the rest. And I have to carry that burden with me for the rest of my life .”

This interview was the making of Frost’s career. A skilled interviewer – Michael Parkinson, Andrew Dent – is able, by lulling the guest into a (false?) sense of security or as in the case of Frost/Nixon through careful background research and dogged questioning, to get the interviewee to reveal something they might otherwise have preferred to have kept to themselves.

Something like this is going on in today’s gospel.

The inclusion of the three previous parables (tenants in the vineyard, the wedding banquet) breaks the flow and makes it difficult to see that our gospel narrative (as I mentioned a couple of weeks ago) is part of a report of the conflict between Jesus and the religious leaders of his day. This is not as simple as it first appears. Judaism, then as now, was not a monolithic religion. Just as today the major world religions are divided into numerous sects so too the Judaism of the first century. The New Testament mentions a number of these groups – the Sadducees who governed the Temple, the Pharisees who, believing the Temple to be corrupt, relied instead on their interpretation of the law, the Zealots, who actively resisted Rome, and the Herodians about whom we know little, but whose name suggests that they supported Rome. Normally these different groups would be in conflict with other, but in the face of a common threat – Jesus – they appear to have joined forces. In this section of the gospel, each group tries in turn tries to trap Jesus in order to embarrass him in front of the crowds or to expose his subversive views so that Rome might be compelled to take action against him.

First of all the Chief Priests and elders ask Jesus a question about authority. What/who gave him the authority to teach, to heal and to chase the money changers from the Temple? Jesus turns the question back to them – “Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” The Chief Priests are unable to answer.

Next it is turn of the Pharisees, who instead of confronting Jesus themselves send their disciples and the Herodians. Given that a direct approach has failed, Jesus’ opponents use flattery as a means to soften him up, to put him off his guard and hopefully to trick him into saying something that he might later regret – something that will either give the Romans an excuse to arrest him or that will diminish his influence over the people.

“Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar?” they ask. Jesus is aware of their strategy. If he says, “yes” they can question his loyalty to God. If he says, “no” he will be seen to be undermining the authority of the Empire. Jesus’ antagonists believe that they have placed him in an impossible position. But this is Jesus whose response is both strategic and theologically sound. By asking for a coin – a denarius – he is able to illustrate his point. The coin was minted by the Empire and bears the emperor’s image. No matter what people might think of the foreign occupation, the coin makes it clear that Palestine is – at present – part of a greater whole. Like it or not, citizens are bound up with the economic system of the Empire. Without the coin they cannot engage in commerce or in day-to-day transactions. Their existence is integrally related to that of the Empire. “Give to Caesar, the things that are Caesar’s,” Jesus says. He deftly avoids making a definitive answer or taking sides – things are never as simple as they seem.

Then Jesus deals with the unspoken question – does “loyalty” to the Empire diminish loyalty to God? Of course not. Paying taxes to Caesar is a consequence of the current state of the world, a world over which God has ultimate control.

Jesus’ response (as the Greek has it) – “the of God to God” – is deliberately vague. Presumably, as God is the creator of all things, then all things are “of God” – even Caesar . We do not have t worry. about the detail. Focusing on minor details, such as the payment of taxes can be a distraction, an excuse not to engage with the overarching reality that ultimately all things are God’s and trying to separate out, to exclude things from God’s oversight becomes (as it was for Jesus’ interrogators) a means of not acknowledging God’s ultimate lordship. To whom we do or not do pay taxes in the present, is of little significance in the light of God’s all-embracing love and power that has existed from before time and will continue beyond time.

For those of us reading these words centuries later, the message is this: Instead of worrying about minutiae, we are asked simply to place ourselves in the hands of the living God, to trust God with our present and our future and to allow the small irritations (like paying taxes) to work themselves out. After all, all things are of God, and we are to give God the things that are God’s – including our very selves.

Who’s vineyard is it anyway?

October 3, 2020

Pentecost 18 – 2020

Matthew 21:31-46

Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Creator, Death-defier and Empowerer. Amen. 

By all accounts I was wise not to try to watch the Trump/Biden debate during the week. I hear that it was a complete debacle and not a debate at all. At its best the Presidential debate (or indeed any debate between potential leaders) is intended to allow the candidates to lay out their positions and their polices and to attack and criticise their opponent’s policies and positions. Each person hopes to expose the inadequacies and flaws both of their opponents’ policies and of their capacity to lead. A skilful debater will present their position in a way most likely to gain the attention and sympathy of the audience (voters). He or she will frame questions that force the other to state something in a way that plays into their own argument or they will bait the other candidate until that person says something unwise that can (in that debate or at a later time) be used against them.

Today’s parable about the vineyard and the “wicked tenants” has to be seen in the context of this sort of debate. Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem and his subsequent actions in the Temple have given him the ascendancy over the leaders (secular and religious) in Jerusalem. He has gained the attention and the loyalty of the crowds – at least for now.  Threatened and anxious about losing their place in the community the various leaders approach Jesus in turn, each trying to trap him or expose him in argument. 

The question with which this section of Matthew’s gospel began was about authority. The chief priests and elders ask: “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” The leaders, who have authority by virtue of their role and wealth, hope to demonstrate to the crowds that Jesus has no legitimacy in the wider community and certainly no authority to teach and to heal. They hope to expose him as a charlatan, and thereby to re-establish their own positions of leadership among the people.

Jesus is not so easy to ensnare. He responds by turning the table on his opponents. Firstly, he asks them a question that he knows that they will not be able to answer. Then, pressing his advantage, Jesus continues by telling three parables that are intended to support his own claim to authority while at the same time exposing the illegitimacy of the Jerusalem establishment.

The parable of the vineyard uses imagery from Isaiah 5. Though Jesus begins the parable in the same way, he takes it in a very different direction. In both instances we are to assume that it is God who has planted the vines, built a watchtower and dug out a wine vat. The results of the planting are very different. In Isaiah, despite the best efforts of the one who planted the vine, the yield is no good. The vine (Israel) produces wild grapes. As a consequence, the vineyard is abandoned to the elements, which in turn leads to its destruction. In contrast, as Jesus retells the parable, the issue is not the quality of the fruit but the desire of the tenants to have control over the yield. It is a matter of who gets what and how do they get it.

Absentee landlords were a common feature of the Palestinian landscape. Soldiers, senators and others loyal to Caesar were rewarded with tracts of land in the nations that had been conquered by Rome. That did not mean that the recipients wanted to live so far from the centre of power. Their land was leased to tenants who were expected to look after the land and its crop in return for a portion of what was produced. 

On a superficial level Jesus’ parable is a short history of Israel who shunned and even killed those whom God sent to bring them back to God and a prediction of what is about to happen to the son (Jesus), who like the prophets has been sent to disrupt the status quo and to reassert God’s sovereignty over the people of Israel. In the context of Jesus’ debate with the chief priests and elders, the underlying issue must be seen as one of authority. By killing, first of all the slaves, and then the son, the tenants are trying to establish control over the distribution of the crop. They are claiming responsibility for the vineyard and therefore for the fruit. Killing the son will only establish what they already believe to be true – that the crop is the result of their efforts and is therefore theirs. 

We are to believe that the tenants are the chief priests and elders against whom Jesus tells this parable. His point seems to be that they have such a high opinion of themselves and are so confident of their roles as leaders of the church that they believe that any growth, any success (failure) is a result of their efforts. In other words, they have taken upon themselves something that is essentially God’s. Given that Jesus is telling this parable about the chief priests and the elders, it appears that Jesus is accusing them of trying to take over the vineyard or in other words trying to take God’s place in the life of Israel. The authority that they claim for themselves is authority taken and not bestowed. Worse it fails to acknowledge God’s ultimate authority.

It is easy for us to sit back and pass judgement on the egocentric, power-hungry leaders of the first century. But, just as Jesus takes a story from centuries past and applies it to his own generation, so we need to understand what this parable is saying – not to the chief priests and elders – but to us and to the church of ourday. 

Imagining that Jesus is critiquing us and our desire to be in control, we could ask ourselves some questions. As church, do we really understand ourselves to be tenant farmers producing a crop for the landowner (God), or do we, like the leaders of the Jerusalem community feel that we need to be in control of the outcomes? Do we believe that the fruit that is produced (if there is fruit) belongs to God or do we want to claim all the credit (and the fruit) for ourselves? In these times of COVID are we afraid to cede control of the vineyard (the church) and the crop (the results of our efforts to maintain the church) to God or do we need to retain our control? 

So much of our (the church’s) effort over the course of my life (50+years) has been expended on worrying about the future of the church – as if it all depended on us and on our own individual and collective efforts. This parable reminds us whose church it is and who has ultimate authority. When God asks for what is God’s, let us pray that we have the grace to let go and let God have what is God’s.

Authority that emanates from within

September 26, 2020

Pentecost 17 – 2020

Matthew 21:21-32

Marian Free

May I speak in name of God who is and was and is to come. Amen.

In the distant past when I was studying undergraduate subjects in biblical studies, I had an amazing lecturer. I can no longer remember which subject we were studying but I do remember his innovative way of teaching. At the beginning of Semester, he presented us with a copy of the lectures that were sent to external students. The idea was that we should read the lectures and come to class with our questions. This was so novel that I was particularly diligent and, though I don’t remember what spurred the question, I clearly remember asking what it was that made Jesus different. Why, in other words, did the early church so readily identify Jesus with God? Apparently the answer was simple and clear – it was Jesus’ authority. The lecturer did not point to Jesus’ miracles, his power over nature or his teaching, but to his authority – not authority given or assumed, but authority that was innate, that was an integral part of who and what Jesus was. He did not need to have anyone or anything authorize his actions or his words, he was sufficient I and of himself.

The Greek root ‘auto/autos’ means “self” or “directed from within” and the Greek ‘autos’ can be translated as self or same. We use it in a great many words – automobile, autonomy automatic, autograph. It is also the root of the word authority. Jesus had authority in that he relied on himself and not on his role, his job description or his superiors. He did not defer to others or call on his position to justify himself, nor did he need to. He did not need to claim an external support in order for demons to obey him, for the winds to cease or for people to believe him. His authority – derived from his very being – was evident to the natural world, the supernatural world and to humankind.

Today’s gospel is about authority – who has it and from what does that authority derive?

As is so often the case, the setting of this encounter is important. The lectionary takes us from chapter 20:1-16 to 21:23-32. As a consequence, unless we are studiously reading Matthew’s gospel in its entirety, we see Jesus’ argument with the chief priests and elders as an isolated event rather than in its context. To fill you in – Jesus has come into Jerusalem amid much fanfare and adulation. He has entered the Temple and overturned the tables of the moneychangers and he had further enraged the elders and chief priests by healing the blind and the lame who in turn identified Jesus as the Son of David. On the next day, as Jesus returned to Jerusalem, from Bethany, he cursed a fig tree that had no fruit and the tree withered at once. His authority – over nature, over illness and over the people – is obvious. No wonder then, that the chief priests and the elders were questioning the source of his authority. Jesus’ very presence challenges their authority – in the Temple and as leaders of the people. If they are to regain their position of authority (an authority bestowed by role or by wealth) they will need to reassert themselves. They attempt to do this by taking Jesus on, hoping that their question will stump him and will thereby bring him into disrepute with the people. If they succeed Jesus will be put to shame and the people will turn from him and submit to them.

What happens is just the opposite.

Today’s battle for authority is just the beginning of a series of challenges that the various leaders put to Jesus.  Once the chief priests and elders have been defeated (and been exposed in a series of parables), the Pharisees attempt to entrap Jesus (sending in their place their disciples and the Herodians). Next a group of Sadducees try to expose him. Lastly, a lawyer puts a question to Jesus. When all these attempts to trap Jesus fail, Jesus turns the tables on the church leaders who “from then on do not dare to ask him any questions.” This effectively puts an end to the debate but, but not to their rage as Jesus has inflamed rather than dampened their sensibilities.

Today’s gospel describes the first of the challenges. The chief priests and elders approach  Jesus and ask him to justify himself. They ask two questions which are only slightly different. “By what authority (or what kind of authority) are you doing these things (i.e., casting the money changers out of the Temple and healing the blind and the lame )?” and “Who gave you this authority?” ‘The first question is about the nature of Jesus’ authority, the second about its source. (see also Matthew 9:34, 12:24).[i]‘  Jesus answers a question with a question. What, he wonders, do they mean by authority? Can they tell the people, for example, where John’s baptism came from – ‘from heaven or from man’? Of course they can’t. Jesus has them over a barrel. If they say from heaven, the crowd will ask why they themselves have not been baptized. On the other hand, if they say from man, they will antagonise the very crowds whose loyalty they are trying to regain.

In this first challenge, Jesus has maintained the upper hand. The chief priests and elders are forced to acknowledge that they don’t know from where John’s baptism comes. Jesus presses home his advantage by telling parables directed at them. Their authority is baseless. It is entirely dependent on their ability to influence and control the crowds and very little to do with an authority which should be derived from their service to God. The crowds are already resentful of an elite that depends on Rome for validation. On the other hand, they recognise that Jesus’ authority emanates from himself. He needs no external validation and it is this that draws the crowds to him.

We don’t have to understand the Nicene Creed or the complex theological arguments as to why Jesus might be both God and man. Jesus’ own authority affirms his divinity. The crowds needed nothing more – neither should we.


[i] Direct quote from Stanley Saunders, Working Preacher for today.

It’s not about words

November 9, 2019

Pentecost 22 – 2019

Luke 20:27-40

Marian Free

In the name of God whose ways are not our ways and whose thought are not our thoughts. Amen.

The current debates and schisms within the Anglican Church are disturbing and confronting. Just last month The Sydney Morning Herald reported that, “Anglican Archbishop of Sydney Glenn Davies has told Anglican supporters of same-sex marriage they should leave the church rather than “betray God’s word” in a scathing speech condemning progressive elements within the faith.”1 At the Synod in the Diocese of Melbourne a number of motions were passed – in particular a motion that expressed support with a break-away church: the Confessing Church of Aotearoa New Zealand – that sent shock waves through the church because they seem to indicate that that Diocese has put itself out of communion with Canterbury and therefore with Church as a whole.

For at least the past twenty years bishops have broken with accepted protocol by crossing Diocesan boundaries to take part in consecrations in churches that have split from the communion. Most recently Australian bishops travelled to New Zealand. The NZ bishops wrote a heart-felt response. “Here we acknowledge that members of our church are very concerned to see photographs which clearly identify that among the consecrating bishops at the ordination were bishops in communion with our church who have crossed boundaries without informing either the Archbishops of this church or the Bishop of Christchurch or the Bishop of Te Waipounamu. The disrespect for the normal protocols of the Anglican Communion and the lack of courtesy show to our church is disturbing.”

The secular press runs headlines such as “Crisis Point: The Anglican Church is riven by worse divisions than ever before”.

Clearly, the past year has not been a good one for the Anglican Church of Australia. In fact, it is possible to make the argument that the past two decades have not been good for the world-wide Anglican Communion as a whole. Ever since a decision was made to ordain women as deacons, priests and bishops, cracks have been appearing. These have become wider and deeper as Dioceses such as that in the United States have approved the blessing of same sex-marriages. Protocol that has kept the diverse church somewhat united has been blithely ignored and long traditions, such as the Lambeth Conference have been undermined.

At the heart of the problem is how we understand the bible. Many Anglicans believe in what they call “the plain truth of the bible” while others argue that the bible is open to interpretation and that we must examine it carefully to understand the original intention. To give one example, if the bible says in 1 Corinthians 14:34 that women must be silent in the church, the former group believe that this cannot be seen in any other way. On the other side of the debate are those who read in an earlier chapter that “when women pray and prophesy in church” (11:5) they must do so with their heads covered. The former group back up a more literal approach by pointing to other scriptures such as Colossians 3 (which appears to encourage women to be subject to their husbands), whereas the latter can see the presence of strong women in leadership in many places, particularly in the letter of Paul.

The problem of factionalism and differing interpretations lies behind today’s gospel. In the Judaism of the first century there were a number of factions as we can see from the NT. The Pharisees were a group of devoted laymen whose concern was with the law and in particular the oral tradition that had grown up concerning the observance of the law. Zealots were a group of enthusiasts who wanted to oust the Romans from their nation. At least one group of Jews (the Essenes) were so disillusioned with the state of affairs that they withdrew into the desert where they recorded scripture, underwent ritual cleansing and lived a communal life. The Sadducees were the power base in Jerusalem. They belonged to the upper class and probably included in their number the priests (who at that time were appointed by Rome and were not of the tribe of Levi).

At one time or another, all of these came into conflict with Jesus. Pharisees accused Jesus of breaking the law and the priests, scribes and Sadducees tried to expose Jesus’ ignorance and their greater wisdom by putting to him questions that they were sure he could not answer.

In today’s gospel it is the Sadducees who attempt to bring Jesus into disrepute by presenting him with a conundrum that they believe will trip him up. The question relates to an ancient practice, according to which if a man dies childless, his brother must marry his widow to ensure the bloodline is continued. As the passage make clear, the Sadducees did not believe in the resurrection. Their line of attack was to try to show that the idea of the resurrection was ridiculous – if a woman has to marry seven times will she have seven husbands in the resurrection?! Jesus is not at all phased. He points out that it is they who are foolish. Heaven, he explains is not simply a continuation of our earthly existence, but is something entirely different – a place in which earthly standards, laws and ways of behaving simply do not apply.

In the end, it is not about words, or about who shouts the loudest, nor is it about who has the most detailed argument or the largest number of adherents. In the end, it is not about one interpretation of the bible or another. In the final analysis it is about the life that God offers to each and every one of us – a life that extends beyond our physical existence to a life that defies description, and which bears little or no resemblance to this present life. That life, as Jesus suggests is not bound or limited by our interpretation of scripture, by our earthly relationships and least of all by our ability to comprehend. It is a way of being that is beyond anything that we currently know and beyond anything that we can begin to imagine. It is a way of being that is determined by God alone and no amount of arguing about what the Bible does or does not say will make any difference in the world to come.

1 The Archbishop has since clarified his comments saying that his comments referred to Bishops of the church and not LGBTI people as a whole.

100th Anniversary – Armistice Day

November 10, 2018

Armistice Day – 2018

Mark 12:38-44

Marian Free

In the name of God who sustains us in our darkest hours. Amen.

On the 24thof April 2015, Tony Abbot told the following story that was reported by The Herald Sun.

“It was on a still spring night a century ago that the ships carrying the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps stole in towards the high coastline of the Gallipoli peninsula.

The first boat landed at a small cove surrounded by steep slopes of thick scrub shortly after four in the morning. Two of the ANZACs who came ashore on April 25, 1915, were Privates Lance and Daryl Blannin-Ferguson. Hailing from Mt Martha, they were two of the first to enlist after the war broke out. They were assigned to the 7th Infantry Battalion, and left Melbourne on the transport ship Hororata on October 19, 1914. Lance was one of more than 750 Australians who were killed on the day of the landing. He was just 21 years old.

His younger brother, Daryl, was killed on May 8, 1915, during the Second Battle of Krithia, aged only 19.

By the time of the evacuation — the only successful part of the campaign — in December 1915, Lance and Daryl were just two of more than 8700 Australians who had died. Their older brother, Lieutenant Acland Blannin-Ferguson, also served on Gallipoli. He survived the campaign and transferred to the British Army in January 1916 before returning to Australia after the war. The Blannin-Ferguson family, like so many families across Australia during the Great War, paid a great price.”

I belong to a generation that has had a rather charmed existence. Both my grandfathers were too young to enlist in the first World War, my father too young for the second and my brother too young for Vietnam. During my lifetime our shores have not been threatened and civilians have not had to endure rationing or the other ordeals associated with a nation at war. I have not had to flee my home with only what I could carry because the enemy were advancing or the bombs raining down.

I have no idea what it is like to farewell a beloved father, brother or husband knowing that I might never see them again. I cannot imagine what it is like to open the door to the person delivering the feared telegram and to know that you will not see your husband, father or brother and that you will not even know where their bodies lie have no grave at which to grieve.

That said, the First World War did cast a shadow over our family life. Lance and Daryl were the older brothers of my paternal grandmother – great uncles whom I never knew, and whose stories were cut short.

The First World War, the Great War, the War to end all Wars was the costliest conflict the world has known. In total, the losses on both sides amounted to nearly 10 million soldiers and 7.7 million civilians  – a total of over 17 million dead (some estimates make the number 19 million). Over 21 million soldiers on both sides were wounded. It was a huge price to pay for a conflict that was driven by nationalism rather than ideals, by greed rather than a deeply held cause. It is much easier to defend our engagement in the second World War than our participation in the first. Yet it is possible to argue that “out of the war came a lesson which transcended the horror and tragedy and the inexcusable folly. It was a lesson about ordinary people – and the lesson was that they were not ordinary. On all sides they were the heroes of that war; not the generals and the politicians but the soldiers and sailors and nurses – those who taught us to endure hardship, to show courage, to be bold as well as resilient, to believe in ourselves, to stick together”[1]. It was, as many have claimed, the time when we identified the characteristics that made/make us uniquely Australian – mateship, youthful confidence, a certain “devil may care” attitude to life (especially in the face of danger or difficulty).

It is common to speak of the sacrifice these young people made for us, but we must be careful not to use the word sacrifice too liberally. The idea of sacrifice is idealised and it allows us to dignify what became a shocking, even wasteful loss of life. The young men (and some young women) who boarded our troop ships had no idea what lay ahead, many were signing up for the adventure of a lifetime. Few, I imagine, enlisted with the goal or ideal of dying for king and country.

Sacrifice can be a dangerous notion as today’s gospel suggests. Too often it involves asking those who are the most vulnerable to give the most – the widow to give her last coins to the Temple treasury, the youth of this land to face a hail of bullets, mustard gas and muddy trenches for what, at times, were futile gains.

There were 61,000 Australian soldiers who never returned home, 152,000 who were wounded and another 119,000 who served overseas. Whether the cause was noble or not, whether they were asked to do the realistic or the impossible, whether the leadership was wise and strategic or unwise and haphazard, all those who served, served willingly and did what was required of them. They faced the horrors and the losses with fortitude, resilience and courage, not to mention a dose of good humour and a determination to stand by one’s mates.

It is true that this day 100 years ago did not provide the world with lasting peace. WWI was not the war to end all wars, but it does remain the most devastating and wide-reaching war with the worst loss of life. We remember today those who did not come home, those who came home maimed and scarred, and those at home whose lives were changed forever by loss or by the changes in those they loved. We do not remember war to glorify it. We remember to remind ourselves how great is the cost of conflict. We remind ourselves of the cost, so that we will think carefully before we enter any future engagements and so that we will do all that is humanly possible to promote reconciliation and to work for peace.

We remember all those who bear the cost on our behalf – soldiers, medics and nurses.

We will remember them.

[1]Paul Keating http://www.awm.gov.au/commemoration/speeches/keating-remembrance-day-1993Ar

Risking it all

June 2, 2018

Pentecost 2– 2018

Mark 2:23- 3:6

Marian Free

 

In the name of God, who gives us the truth and trusts us to pursue it and not compromise it. Amen.

Those of us who read know that novelists have a gift for building suspense. Detective novels for example, are written in such a way as to totally confuse the reader. Once the crime is committed, there are often there are a number of red herrings that lead the reader to consider most of the characters as potential suspects and to keep them guessing until the very end of the novel when the real culprit and his or her motivation are finally exposed. Romantic novels are also suspenseful. Authors make the reader follow a torturous path of separations and misunderstandings before the two lovers finally admit their love for one another. Every genre of literature – fiction and non-fiction alike – has a particular style or format designed to capture and maintain the attention of the reader.

This is no less true of the gospels. We do not know who wrote the gospels and scholars cannot agree as to what genre of literature they belong but it is clear that each gospel has a particular structure and a particular intention – that of supporting the communities who have come to faith in Jesus and of encouraging others to believe in Jesus. The gospels were not written by Jesus’ disciples – uneducated fishermen and tax-collectors, they were written by second or third generation Christians who were compelled to collect the stories of Jesus at a time when the church was separating from the synagogue and developing a life of its own. There was an anxiety that stories that were repeated from memory were in danger of being embellished. The gospel writers wanted to gather Jesus’ teaching and the account of his life before it was altered beyond recognition.

While we do not know the identities of the gospel writers, we can make a number of assumptions based on the gospels themselves. Only about 1% of the people in the first century could read or write, so we know that our authors had some form of education and whether through formal learning or through the absorption the culture of the educated class, our authors had a knowledge of rhetoric and thus were able to construct their accounts of Jesus’ life in a way that was not dry and uninteresting, but which even today is engaging and even suspenseful.

I have said previously that it is generally agreed that the first gospel to be written is that of Mark. Mark’s gospel is more concise and less accurate than that of Matthew and Mark and his use of the Greek language is much less sophisticated. However an examination of his narrative style and his use of literary techniques reveals that the author is a skilled storyteller. As we journey through Mark’s gospel during the remainder of this year some of the skills that he used will be revealed.

Conflict is a key characteristic of Mark’s gospel – conflict with Satan, conflict with the authorities, conflict with his family, conflict with the disciples and in the end conflict with the crowds who have followed him. Mark introduces conflict at the very start of the gospel and arranges the material in such a way that the conflict continues to intensify throughout the gospel until it culminates with Jesus’ death.

After a brief introduction, Mark introduces the conflict with Satan in the wilderness. Then, no sooner has Jesus begun his ministry and chosen the first disciples, than a representative of Satan in the form of a man with an unclean spirit challenges him (as the demons will continue to do in the first part of the gospel). From the beginning of chapter 2 to 3:6, Mark reports a series of “controversy stories” – Jesus is accused of blasphemy, criticised for eating with tax-collectors and sinners, challenged because his disciples do not fast andbecause they pluck grain on the Sabbath and finally he is attacked because he heals on the Sabbath. At the conclusion of this section, the tension has built to such an extend that: “The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him.”

The story has barely begun and already a number of things have become evident: Jesus was engaged in a battle with the forces of evil (who recognised his divinity), he offended the Pharisees by doing things that only God can do (forgiving sins) and by breaking the Sabbath. At the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry Mark hints that the story is going to end badly – Jesus’ enemies will destroy him. A sense of foreboding hangs over Mark’s gospel from the beginning that deepens when Jesus enters Jerusalem and is challenged by the priests.

Jesus does not change his behaviour to accommodate his opponent’s ideas or to quell their fears. He doesn’t compromise his mission for the sake of his own safety or so that he can fit in with those around him. Throughout his mission Jesus manages to cause affront to those who are self-satisfied and to challenge those who keep outdated rules for the sake of keeping rules. The Jesus of Mark’s gospel is confrontational and uncompromising.

Through a focus on conflict, Mark makes it clear that the gospel as he understands it is not about conforming or fitting in, it is about challenging embedded injustice, questioning outdated rules, re-thinking ancient traditions and above all demonstrating compassion for the marginalised and the despised. The Jesus of Mark’s gospel makes it clear that being true to the gospel has the potential to put us at odds with the world around us. Mark doesn’t promise us comfort. His gospel assures us that as Jesus faced conflict, so too will those who follow in his footsteps.

Mark’s gospel challenges us to ask ourselves – How much have we sacrificed in order to fit in with the world around us? Have we compromised the gospel in order to avoid giving offence? When it comes to living out our faith, do we play it safe, or are we prepared to risk all for what we believe to be true, what we believe to be right?

Fighting is not the solution

September 9, 2017

Pentecost 14 – 2017

Matthew 18:10-20

Marian Free

In the name of God who, through Jesus shows us a way to confront wrongdoing without causing embarrassment or shame. Amen.

I would not be surprised to discover that more than a few of us have been made quite anxious not only by North Korea’s testing of a hydrogen bomb but also in relation to the world’s response to that test. An escalation of threats on one side has led to an escalation of activity on the other and so it goes on – a never-ending cycle in which each side tries to cow the other. It is difficult to see how the situation can end well. North Korea fires a bomb, the United States and others urge more punitive sanctions. North Korea threatens to bomb the United States, the United States threatens a massive military response and so on. Neither party wants to back down. Backing down would be a source of embarrassment and would be seen as a sign of weakness[1].

A willingness not to use force to solve a conflict and not put down the other party not only leads to a different outcome, but provides a solution in which neither party is made to look weak or is exposed to embarrassment or shame. On Friday, Richard Filder interviewed Jonesy – a single mother, truck-driver, trainer and company director. Heather Jones drives enormous B-double, or B-triple trucks in Western Australia. A few years ago, Jonesy was called in to mediate in a situation that looked as though it was going to get out of hand. A woman from Ballina had taken it on herself to expose truck drivers whom, she had concluded were all dangerous and irresponsible drivers. “Bothersome Belinda” as she became known, set up a website asking for people to dob in a truck driver. Her campaign caused distress among all the truck drivers who drove responsibly and carefully and who often put their own lives at risk to avoid accidents. Jonesy was called in by her fellow truckies to see if she could help – single mother to single mother.

At the first meeting, Belinda’s body language said it all. Her views were fixed: truckies were the enemy and she was not ready to give an inch. Jonesy was not deterred. Over a number of meetings she continued to reach out to Belinda until the point that they became good friends. The eventual outcome was that the offending website was taken down and, to Jonesy’s surprise, Belinda got her truck license and came to work for her.

Two quite different ways of dealing with offense and two quite different results!

In a culture governed by notions of honour and shame and in which aggression and tit for tat was a way of life, Jesus showed that there was another way.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus made the stunning claim that: “Blessed are the peacemakers,” and “Blessed are the meek”. He not only counselled against aggression, he also gave practical examples of ways in which his listeners could end disputes without exposing the other person or oneself to shame or dishonour. He said: “You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.”

This is a theme that runs throughout Matthew’s gospel. Jesus refused to meet violence with violence, he refused to grandstand, to promote himself at the expense of others, and finally he submitted to violence and death rather than respond to hostility with aggression.

In today’s gospel Jesus provides a practical example of how conflict or sin within the Christian community might be dealt with without exposing the offender to embarrassment and without creating a situation that would lead to an escalation of the problem. Jesus does not appear to think that conflict is something to be avoided at all costs. It will occur in the Christian community as in any other. When it does, the matter should be addressed, but it should be addressed in a way that does not expose the offender or cause the offender to lose honour in the sight of the community. Jesus suggests three strategies that can be used if tensions arise, or if someone hurts someone else or behaves in a way that is contrary to the values of the community.

In the first instance the one who is sinned against is to speak quietly to the offender – thus causing no embarrassment. Only if this doesn’t work are others to be involved. The second stage involves witnesses, which suggests that it is more of a legal process. Again, the problem is dealt with privately so that the offender does not lose honour. Only as a last resort is the offender brought before the entire community. If the offender still refuses to acknowledge his or her fault, they have demonstrated that they do not really belong and, at least in the short-term, must be designated as an outsider – in the same class as a tax-collector or a Gentile.

I am not naïve. History has demonstrated that sometimes the only way to confront and to stop evil behaviour has been to react with force. What Jesus is suggesting is that this should not be a way of life. Confrontation and violence should never be the starting point, but rather dialogue and an attempt at mutual understanding. Only when these fail should we begin to seek out other means of resolving the tension.

Within the Christian community relationships are likely to be tested, people are going to rub up against each other in the church as in other situation and people are going to fail to live up to everyone’s expectations. What is important, is not that conflict is avoided, but that when it does occur it is dealt with in such a way as to avoid exposing people to embarrassment and shame and that it follows an orderly process to try to resolve the issue and, as we shall see as the chapter progresses, the Christian community should be more ready than other communities to forgive – not once but over and over and over again.

[1] To be fair, imposing sanctions has been used as a way of avoiding conflict and war, and it may be difficult to have conversations with the leadership of North Korea.

Telling it how it is

November 12, 2016

Pentecost 26 – 2016

Luke 21:5-19

Marian Free

 In the name of God who gives us courage to carry on when all hope seems lost and the future is out of our hands. Amen.

 

“We are lousy, stinking, ragged, unshaven and sleepless. Even when we’re back a bit we can’t sleep for our own guns. I have one puttee, a dead man’s helmet, another dead man’s gas protector, a dead man’s bayonet. My tunic is rotten with other men’s blood, and partly splattered with a comrade’s brains. It is horrible, but why should you people at home not know? Several of my friends are raving mad. I met three officers out in No Man’s Land the other night, all rambling and mad. Poor Devils!” so wrote John Raws from Pozieres on the fourth of August 1916[1].

That same day the Australians joined the attack at Fromelles. It was a disaster. Five and a half thousand young Australian men died – the greatest loss of soldiers in a single day during the war. Fighting continued on the Somme through the autumn mud and a bitterly cold winter. Australian casualties continued to mount, and the men’s health deteriorated in the conditions.

In November that same year, Hugh Anderson wrote home to his mother in New South Wales from Fromelles: “The Big Push has a 12 mile front and a depth of 6 miles and a curved front,” he wrote. “It has cost us half a million casualties at least and goodness knows how much money and animals. This is in six months. The German line is bent but not broken, at this rate to blow the Germans back to the Rhine, Britain will be broken for money and men. How it will end is very hard to say. I give him two years more at least. That’s my opinion from what I’ve seen and read.”[2]

This year marks 100 years since the Battle of the Somme. Between the 1st of July 1916 and the 18th of November, the Allied forces took on the Germans along the Somme River. The battle front was 30 kilometres long, the Germans well entrenched and when it was over the British and Dominion forces had lost an astounding 430,000 young men and the French 200,000 soldiers. In three and a half months the troops had advanced only 12 kilometers.

Three years later on the 11th of November, the Armistice of Compiegne went into effect. At the time, what we now know as the First World War was called the Great War – the war to end all wars. One hundred years later, we have witnessed a second world war and Australian troops have been involved in countless other engagements in countries too many to name.

Despite lessons from the past, the world has barely changed since 1916. Humanity, it seems, is destined to live with conflict and war, rioting and revolutions, oppression and injustice – not just in the last 100 years, but from the beginning of time. Not only must we contend with our inability to live together peaceably, we are also subject to the instability of the planet, the earth’s uncontrollable weather systems and the constant threat of illness or disease. For many people life is a daily struggle simply to survive and most of us at some time or another face some sort of adversity as a consequence of belonging to the human race on planet Earth.

It is important then to recognise that the words of today’s gospel are not prophetic in the sense that Jesus is predicting what might happen in a far distant future. Nor is he providing a check-list of signs that will precede the end. He is speaking of the world as it is – a world that is flawed, erratic and often dangerous. Jesus is describing the world as the disciples will experience it. His words are prophetic only in as much as he is describing the difficulties and dangers that the disciples in every age can expect to encounter. His words are prophetic only in as much as every generation has lived through wars, earthquakes, famines and plagues. At the same time, his words are not prophetic in the sense that though these events have occurred over and over again in the last 2000 years, they have not presaged the end.

In fact Jesus makes it clear that we are not to look for signs or to come to any conclusions as to the timing of the end. He cautions about being led astray by those who think that they know better than God when the end will come.

Rather than foretelling the future, Jesus is telling the disciples what they can expect in the present. Their lives might have changed as a result of their coming to faith, but the world will remain much the same. The only significant change in the disciples’ external environment is the risk that they will be misunderstood, that their faith in Jesus’ message may expose them to ridicule, misunderstanding, isolation and even arrest and imprisonment. He does not want them to be unprepared for a future that will be uncertain and ultimately unpredictable.

Behind the warning Jesus offers assurance and encouragement. “Not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls.” No matter how hard it gets, no matter what external or internal threats present themselves, Jesus assures that God will not abandon us. No matter what adversities we face, God will give us the courage and strength to endure. If we are able to trust in God’s steadfastness, if we maintain our faith to the end – no matter what life throws at us – God will keep faith with us. If our relationship with God through Jesus remains unbroken, we are assured that that relationship will defy even death and that in the present and for eternity we will be alive together with God.

Jesus doesn’t promise that life with him will be without challenges or will isolate and protect us from suffering, but he does assure us over and over again that life with him will give us the ability to endure. Let us thank God that, relatively speaking our lives are not subject to the desperation of poverty, displacement, disease faced by millions. Let us trust God that whatever life throws at us, we will find the courage to endure and face the future with confidence in God’s love for us and the certainty that we are destined for life eternal.

[1] Lieutenant John Raws, 23rd Battalion, 4 August 1916

[2] http://www.australiansatwar.gov.au/stories/stories_war=W1_id=99.html

The cost of silence

August 20, 2016

Pentecost 14 – 2016

Luke 13:10-17

Marian Free

In the name of God who confronts evil and asks us to do likewise. Amen.

A couple of years ago I had two unpleasant experiences within a week. The first involved a cyclist who, having abused a driver who was waiting at the lights, tried to engage me in supporting him. So far as I could tell the driver had stopped exactly where he/she was required to stop and the cyclist was simply fueling a rage that somehow justified his existence. That is, if he was right and someone else was wrong he was somehow more – I don’t know – righteous or smarter than the other. There seemed to be no other point to the exercise other than the cyclist’s building himself up in his own eyes. Had I allowed myself to be involved I would have further justified his sense of self-righteousness. As it was I had the feeling that regardless of my lack of support he would spend the rest of the day feeling pleased with himself that he had got the better of someone. A little later that week I was walking the dog. As required, I had my plastic bag with me and made sure that I collected the dog faeces as we went. A car full of young men drove past and, as they did, they yelled out the window to the effect that I was causing offense. Again I didn’t engage but reflected that, like the cyclist, their outburst had less to do with me and more to do with their own need to make themselves feel as if they were in some way superior to myself.

Some use conflict to inflate their egos, others encourage conflict so as to bring a matter to a head, to enable them to deal with an issue and move on instead of pretending that nothing is the matter and allowing resentment or irritation to fester unchecked.

Then there are some who seek out conflict, not because they feel powerless or are lacking in confidence, but because they are seeking to bring about social change, to right wrongs, or to confront oppression and injustice. Such people have a conviction about what is right and are not afraid to challenge those who a perpetrating wrongs – even if their confrontational approach will lead to rejection, imprisonment or worse. Among such people we can count Mahatma Gandhi, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Nelson Mandela and many, many others. They seek conflict, not for the sake of conflict, but because they believe that there is a need to expose the evils of their day and feel that they must name what is wrong even though they know that it will lead to division.

Some people thrive on conflict. They seem to seek it out because it makes them feel more important or as if they have more control in lives in which they feel they have little status or power. Such people not only seek out conflict but, like the cyclist and young men, create conflict – either by pushing others until they react or by seeing offense where none was intended. Others use conflict to bring unresolved issues into the open, and yet others feel they have no choice but act in ways that are bound to put them into conflict with the establishment.

I suspect that Jesus was a little bit of b and c. That is, Jesus was keen to bring unspoken tensions (for example around the law) into the open and at the same time he was so confident in his role as God’s messenger that, even though arrest and crucifixion appeared to be the likely outcome, he refused to compromise or to soften his message. So far as Jesus was concerned, restoring God’s intention for God’s people meant freeing them from the burdens that had been placed upon them and interpreting the law as a means of liberation rather than as something that was restrictive and overwhelming. No wonder that Jesus came into conflict with the religious leaders of his time. He was challenging a way of life that had come to be taken for granted and at the same time he was undermining their authority as those who interpreted the law for the people.

Almost from the beginning of his ministry Jesus has insisted that an interpretation of the Sabbath law that leads to harm rather than good is a misinterpretation of God’s meaning (Lk 6:6f). Like all practicing Jews, Jesus attends the synagogue regularly. However, instead of leaving well alone and maintaining the social norms, Jesus invites division. Early in his ministry, Jesus threw out a challenge: “I ask you, is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the Sabbath, to save life or to destroy it?” According to today’s gospel, Jesus is now beyond asking. It clearly makes no sense to him to allow a woman to suffer another moment when she could be set free today. Jesus points out the double standard of the religious when it comes to interpreting the law. It is permissible to save an animal from distress but not a human being!

Jesus cannot remain silent and nor can he hold back his healing power. He must do what he feels he is called to do even though it will cause offense and even though it will heighten the conflict between himself and the establishment.

In Luke’s gospel, Jesus’ conflict is not only with the religious leaders. Luke tells us that Jesus is engaged in a bigger and far more dangerous conflict – that between Jesus and Satan, or the conflict between the material and the spiritual worlds. Before Jesus even begins his ministry the forces of this world try to throw him off course in the desert. When Jesus proves too difficult a target, Satan departs until “an opportune time”. Now, mid-way through the gospel Jesus preempts Satan’s next strike, by freeing the woman whom “Satan has bound for eighteen long years.” Both on a human level and on a spiritual level, Jesus is inviting conflict, bringing discord into the open where it can be recognised and properly addressed, not allowed to deepen and grow. Jesus is not afraid to name what is wrong and to identify the true enemy. Despite the fact that this will deepen the opposition to him and his ministry, he will not be deflected from his goal or compromise his values.

Many of us avoid conflict. We do not want to cause trouble. As a consequence, we fail to see the unhappiness that can result when we fail to address those things that cause hurt to ourselves or to others. Jesus had no such problem.

Dare we remain silent if our silence means that the evils of the world are allowed to continue unabated?

 

 

When good is perceived as evil

June 6, 2015

Pentecost 2 -2015

Mark 3:20-35

Marian Free

 In the name of God whose ways are not our ways and whose thoughts are not our thoughts. Amen.

If you have never read the Gospel of Mark from beginning to end, may I suggest that you take the time to do so. Mark’s account of Jesus is quite short and I think most of us could read it in one or two sittings. This is important, because, it is only by reading the gospel from start to finish that we can gain some idea of the plot development and of the themes that run through the gospel. For example, a prominent theme is Mark’s gospel is that of “conflict”, in particular a conflict regarding who has authority – Jesus or the religious leaders? The question can be narrowed down still further to “who has God’s authority – the authority to represent God before the people?” – Jesus or those who have been given, or who have assumed the authority to interpret scripture and to guard and to pass on the traditions of the faith. When the question is narrowed down still further, we begin to see that the conflict is a contest between good and evil, between the heavenly authorities and earthly authorities, between God and Satan.

The earthly authorities (whether the Pharisees, the scribes, the Sadducees, the priests or the Herodians) try over and over again to discredit Jesus, to demonstrate that he not only disregards the law and the traditions of the elders, but that he willfully breaks the law and ignores the traditions. The “authorities” are determined to assert their own authority to represent God, and to expose Jesus as a madman, a fraud, a blasphemer or worse, an agent of Satan. Instead of which they themselves are exposed as self-serving, misrepresenting God, misinterpreting scripture, enforcing a tradition that has reached its use-by date and worse, as blasphemers. Despite the best effort of “the authorities”, in every confrontation Jesus is able to turn the tables on his accusers and to reveal them to be guilty of the very things of which they accuse him.

Jesus is accused of breaking the Sabbath, but whereas his actions (of healing) lead to wholeness and life, the action of the authorities on that same day is to plot Jesus’ death. The authorities try to entrap him with questions about divorce and about the resurrection, but Jesus knows the scriptures so well that he is able to point out that they simply do not understand. They accuse Jesus of breaking the law only to have Jesus point out their hypocrisy and their propensity to twist the law to suit themselves. All their attempts to entangle Jesus or to cause him to lose face before the people have the opposite effect. A result of the conflict – which they have instigated – is that the so-called “authorities” are revealed as loveless, legalistic hypocrites.

Nowhere is the battle between good and evil so clear as in today’s gospel. This is the last of the first series of confrontations between Jesus and the authorities. So far Jesus has been accused of blasphemy, of breaking the laws of ritual purity, of failing to observe fast days and of breaking the Sabbath. At the same time the crowds have identified Jesus as “one having authority” and the evil spirits have recognised Jesus as the Holy One of God. The end result is a conspiracy to destroy him.

In today’s gospel, the scene is set when Jesus’ family, made anxious by reports that he is “out of his mind”, come to restrain him. The idea that Jesus himself might be possessed by an evil spirit is taken up by the scribes (who apparently have come all the way from Jerusalem to Galilee to attack him). The scribes accuse Jesus of having Beelzebul (Satan) claiming that only Beelzebul would have the power that Jesus has to cast out demons.

Such a claim is so ridiculous that it is easy for Jesus to demonstrate that it is utterly baseless. No one would possibly try to defeat an opponent by destroying members of their own team. Jesus points out that is only because he has already defeated Satan that he can now so easily dispense with Satan’s minions. Having dealt with the attack on him, Jesus turns the tables on his accusers. He suggests that by identifying him with Satan, the scribes have revealed their true nature and committed the most serious sin of all – that of the sin against the Holy Spirit which is the only sin for which there is no forgiveness. In Jesus, the scribes have seen evil and not good and in so doing they have confused God with Satan. Their attack on Jesus has exposed just how completely they have come to depend on themselves and on earthly authority and how, as a consequence, they have effectively shut God out of their lives. They cannot recognise in Jesus God’s beauty, love, wisdom and compassion. Instead they see in him only evil and threat.

Worse, what is good has become to them so threatening and so disturbing, that they believe that they have to destroy it. The scribes are so intent on preserving their position and their traditions that anything that shakes the status quo is, by their definition, evil. The goodness and life that Jesus represents is to them the source of evil and death.

This then, is the unforgivable sin, to mistake what is good for evil. The scribes have become so blind to goodness that they have closed their hearts to all that is good and true. Believing themselves to be arbiters of good and evil, the scribes simply cannot see that they are in need of forgiveness. They have so effectively locked God out of their hearts and lives that they have put themselves out of reach of God’s loving compassion. It is not so much that God won’t forgive, but that they will not allow God to forgive because instead of seeing in Jesus an example of God’s goodness, they can only see the destruction of everything that they have come to hold dear.

Seeing evil in what is good is not limited to Jesus’ first century opponents. A willingness to rely on human authority and a desire to maintain the status quo has led to acts of oppression and injustice and that have seen the imprisonment and torture of good and prophetic men and women. It is fear of change and distrust of the other that has allowed humanity to turn a blind eye to the abuse of power and the destruction of innocents discrimination against those who are different and rejection of those whom we imagine would threaten our lifestyles.

My our lives be so focused on God that we are not so afraid of change or so determined to hold on to what we have known and believed to be true that we fail to see goodness when it is right in front of us. May our lives be so driven by God’s love and wisdom and compassion that we do not hear the voice of change as the voice of evil when the change is for the greater good.