Posts Tagged ‘dependence on God’

Self preservation

October 7, 2017

Pentecost 18 – 2017

Matthew 21:33-46

Marian Free

 

In the name of God in whom and with whom we have our being. Amen.

The annual Synod of the Diocese was held two weekends ago. There were not many controversial things on the agenda and only one piece of legislation to pass. One thing that absorbed a great deal of time was a presentation that is now a regular part of the Synod proceedings – the Diocesan statistics. Each year I (and every other priest) in the Diocese are obliged to provide information regarding how many people came to church in that year, how many were buried, married or baptised and so on. As you may guess from looking around, those numbers can be quite sobering. Only a few parishes in the Diocese are growing, many are remaining stable and a good few are declining in numbers.

The publication of these figures leads to a great deal of navel gazing and worrying about how we can halt the decline and build the church. I am a firm believer in being accountable and I think that it is important that we know how we are travelling, but I do worry that our concern is as much about self- preservation as it is about the future of the gospel, that worrying about our numbers makes us inward rather than outward focussed. Worse, I wonder whether we are so busy worrying about what is happening to the church and asking ourselves what we can do to maintain it, that we risk being unaware of that God might be doing something new, exciting and different. Alternatively, we are so inwardly focussed that anything new and exciting and different is seen not as a gift from God, but as something against we must protect our traditions and our structures.

Self-preservation certainly seems to be a concern of the Chief Priests, the elders, the scribes and the Pharisees of Jesus’ day. Jesus was seen as a threat and not a gift. He was unconventional and popular and nothing could convince them that he was God’s plan for the future of the church. Instead of welcoming Jesus as a gift from God, they closed ranks, trying to protect their position, their status and their authority – all of which required the church and its traditions to remain unchanged. Jesus represented a to the stability of the system that they were so carefully preserving.

Today’s gospel is set in the Temple. It is a small section of an ongoing dispute between Jesus and the chief priests and elders. They are worried that Jesus’ popularity and his refusal to maintain their traditions and are attempting to discredit and diminish him. Jesus turns the tables by telling the parable of the wicked tenants in order to expose their agenda. The parable likens the chief priests and elders to tenants who want to hold on to what they have at any cost. The leaders have forgotten that it was the landlord (God) who planted the vineyard, built the fence, installed the wine press and built a watchtower. The tenants, like the chief priests and elders have become so absorbed in themselves and their own roles, that they have lost sight of the fact that they are working in God’s vineyard. In the slaves and in the son, they see a threat to their comfortable existence, a threat that must be destroyed even though it has a legitimate claim on their attention.

In Jesus’ day the chief priests, scribes, Pharisees and elders have come to believe that responsibility for the vineyard (church) and for its future resides with them – that God has, in effect, abrogated all responsibility to them. They are so sure that they know what God wants that they cannot allow anyone (even Jesus) to unsettle the boat.

In 1182 in a small town in the north of Italy, Francis di Bernadone was born into the family of a wealthy merchant. Francis, like many rich young men of his day was something of a playboy and, influenced by the ideals of medieval chivalry, he longed to make a name for himself on the battlefield. His first foray into battle led to his imprisonment and his second was thwarted by an encounter with Christ that led him to spend time in prayer and to provide for the poor. Francis’ generosity and piety caused his Father such concern that he had him called before the Bishop’s court. Francis’ response was to strip naked. He was renouncing wealth, status and power and placing all his confidence in God.

Sometime later when Francis was praying in the ruins of a church, he heard the voice of Christ saying: “Build my church”. He understood that he was to spread the gospel to the world not to shore up the institution of the church. He began to preach anywhere and everywhere and, so compelling was his message, that within weeks he was joined by three other young men who within a short time became twelve. Francis did not need to accumulate goods, power or respect, he understood that he was doing God’s work and that his role was to tend the vines that God had planted, and to acknowledge that the growth belonged to God.

He and his companions wandered the countryside preaching the gospel to all who would listen. Because Francis had given up everything, he, unlike the leaders of the first century church had nothing to lose. Because he recognised the absolute sovereignty of God in his life, he was not threatened or intimidated by those who came to share his work in the vineyard, he did not need to take credit for his work, and he certainly had no need to refuse entry to others whom God sent. Francis’ complete and utter dependence on God freed him to serve God selflessly expecting no reward except the privilege of serving God. In direct contrast to the wicked tenants who represented the leaders of Jesus’ day, Francis recognised that everything came from God and that he owed everything to God.

As we watch in despair as our numbers decline, as we wonder what the future of the church will be, we do well to remember today’s parable – the church is not ours but God’s and that God can see a future for the gospel even if we cannot. In the 21st century, we may have to entertain the idea that once again we are being asked to give back to God what is God’s and that are being asked to recognise God in unexpected voices and unexpected people. The question we must ask ourselves is this: are we open to the possibility that God might be ready to do something different, or are we determined to hold on to what we have at any cost?

 

It doesn’t depend on us

May 2, 2015

                                                                                      Easter 5 – 2015

                                                                              John 15:1-8; Acts 8:26-40

                                                                                                                                                                         Marian Free

In the name of God in w  is the source of our being and of all our doing. Amen.

Abiding, discipleship and bearing fruit are among the themes of this short passage from John’s gospel. John’s gospel is both incredibly simply and amazingly complex. Interlocking themes weave their way through a variety of scenarios and images in a way that makes the text repetitive, but also difficult to untangle. This in turn makes the gospel easy to understand (because the ideas are repeated over and over again) and impossible to explain (because so many ideas are included in a very few verses). 

Take today’s gospel for example. It follows on from the discussion on the good shepherd and Jesus’ statement that he has other sheep to bring into the fold. A new image – that of the vine appears to be refer to this new community – one that includes both the original flock and the other sheep whom Jesus has brought in. This new community is described as the branches of the vine, Jesus, who is the source of their life and fruitfulness. By virtue of their decision to ‘abide’ in Jesus these branches have been ‘pruned’ or ‘made clean’ so that they will bear even more fruit. 

In contrast, those who have not responded to Jesus have lost their connection with the source. As a consequence they wither and die – not because they do not bear fruit, but because they do not abide in Jesus nor he in them. Abiding in Jesus, being connected to the vine allows the branches to bear fruit. Bearing fruit in this instance is not related to good works or what a person does or does not do. ‘Bearing fruit’ describes a person’s relationship to the vine – their connectedness or not. The reason for this, is that it is not the branch itself that produces fruit. On its own, the branch can do nothing. It requires the life giving nutrients that flow through the sap that comes from the vine. A grape vine can only produce grapes. A passion vine can only produce passion fruit. The source of life determines what is produced. 

It is this notion that is at the heart of the metaphor of the vine. Followers of Jesus, those who abide in Jesus and he in them, are so intimately connected to Jesus that their lives are not only empowered by him, but  they are, to all intents and purposes, him. What they ask for will be given to them, not because Jesus wants to indulge them or to reward them for their faithfulness, but because they abide in him. If they abide  in Jesus their lives will be so intimately connected with his, that they will want only what Jesus himself would want. 

The connection between Jesus and the disciples is as close as that between Jesus and the Father. By abiding in Jesus (abiding in the vine), the disciples become one with him and therefore one with the Father. Just as Jesus glorifies the Father, so the disciples, by abiding him will in their turn glorify the Father. Fruitfulness then, is not something we do, but something that God (Jesus) does through us. Bearing fruit is for us, as it is for the branch of the vine, something that it passive not active. It involves opening ourselves up to the life-giving power of Jesus so that Jesus can work through us. On our own we do not produce fruit, but if we allow God to work in us and through us, God’s purposes will be achieved through us and that purpose is that God will be glorified.

The story of Philip and the Eunuch is unrelated, but I believe it helps to demonstrate the point that Jesus is making here. Philip is one of the Greeks who has fled Jerusalem following the stoning of Stephen. Philip goes to the road between Jerusalem and Gaza, not to further some purpose of his own, but as a response to the voice of God. Once on the road, Philip again demonstrates his oneness with God. He hears the voice of the Spirit urging him to join the Eunuch who is confused by what he is reading in the book of Isaiah. Led by the Spirit, Philip asks if the Eunuch understands what he is reading. When the Eunuch says that he does not, Philip explains the gospel so convincingly that the Eunuch is brought to faith and seeks baptism. His task done, Philip is ‘snatched by the Spirit’ and finding himself in Azotus where he continues to share the gospel. 

What these two very different texts have in common is the concept that the spread of the  gospel is not dependent on us but on God. The gospel is spread, not by anything that we do, but by what God in us does. This means that more important than anything we do or do not do, is our relationship with God. God can only work in and through us, this is if we are intimately connected to God (the vine) and if our lives are fed and directed by the Spirit within us. In the language of today’s gospel: if we abide in Jesus and Jesus abides in us our lives will be so completely aligned with that of God that what we want will be what God wants and God’s will will be achieved through us and  fruit that we bear will be the spread of the good news.

For decades now we have been anxious  about declining congregation numbers and worried by the increasing secularisation of the world around us. As a result we have tried all kinds of programmes and invested huge amounts of energy in trying to attract people to the faith. In other words, we allow ourselves to think that the future of the gospel depends entirely on  us. Today’s readings remind us that the opposite is the case. It doesn’t depend on us. The gospel always was and always is in God’s hands. The very best that we can do to progress God’s mission in the world is to allow ourselves to be so utterly and completely swept up in God’s ambit that God can and will work in and through us. To further God’s kingdom in the world all that is necessary is for us to surrender ourselves to God’s greater wisdom and open ourselves to God’s life-giving, life-directing presence and leave the rest up to God.

How can we possibly allow ourselves to think that the kingdom of God depends entirely on us? All we need to do is abide in the vine and  leave it to God to do the rest.

A reason to party

March 9, 2013

Lent 4

Forgiving Father Luke 15:11-32

Marian Free

In the name of God whose love always welcomes us back. Amen.

Whenever the parable of the forgiving Father is read, more often than not I am told: “I really relate to the older brother!” This is a significant reaction and it tells us three things. One is that the sting in the parable has not been properly understood. A second is that it is very hard for most of us to let go of our egos. We are so bound up with concepts of fairness and judgement and we allow the injustices experienced in our past to dominate and determine our feelings in the present. The third is perhaps the most serious.  As the Father is clearly meant to represent God, our discomfort (resentment) at the treatment of the prodigal tells us something about our trust or lack of trust in God.

There are a number of differences between the two fictional sons. The older is sensible and responsible, willing to conform to societal and family norms and to work for his father until his father dies and passes his share of the property to him. We can imagine that, as a result, his life has had very few highs and lows. He has just gone about his business day by day secure in the knowledge that he has shelter, enough to eat and some sort of a future. He may even believe that he has all that he needs.

The younger brother is the opposite. He is reckless, irresponsible and impetuous. This son has no thought for centuries of tradition or for the respectability of his family. All he thinks about is himself. Half the property is due to him. His father can manage financially and otherwise without him. Why not take his share of the property now? Why not see the world and have adventures while he is still young enough to do so? Why submit himself to the humdrum of daily existence at home when the world has so much more to offer?

One stays and the other goes, with alarming consequences for both.  The younger son very quickly discovers that going it alone is not all that he had dreamed it would be. In a distant land, starving and condemned to feeding pigs he realises how good home really was. Having chosen adventure, he now longs for security. Aren’t his father’s servants better off than he is? What is he doing? Life as his father’s servant would be better than his present conditions. The humiliation of admitting that he was wrong, of confessing that he has squandered his inheritance and the shame of ending his days as a servant or slave are nothing compared to the degradation he is currently experiencing. He has sunk as low as it is possible to sink. Returning home cannot make him feel any worse.

The older son stays at home satisfied that he is doing the right thing. Possibly he even thinks that he is content. However, while his brother is away learning about the world, the older sibling has nothing to challenge his sense of security, nothing to force him to question whether he has made the right choice. He is relying on history and tradition to justify his position and, had his brother never come home, he might have remained smugly content, sure that he was the favoured son. After all, wasn’t he the one doing the right thing?

All the certainty of the older son is thrown into disarray when the younger son comes home. Instead of being met with censure and condemnation this wayward child is met with rejoicing! It is impossible for the older son to make sense of what is happening. His own certainly that he was doing what was right has not prepared him for something so totally unexpected. He has not learnt the lessons that his brother has been forced to learn. He has not descended to the place which has forced him to see his own short comings and to value what he does have, in particular his father’s love for him. He has based his decisions on a belief that his father needs him and has failed to realise his need for his father. His very “goodness” and his strict observance of societal norms have confirmed his sense of his own value and have ill-equipped him to understand either his brother, or his father’s reaction. His black and white view of right and wrong and his lack of self-knowledge will not allow him to move beyond conformity to compassion.

As we can see from the first few verses of chapter 15, Jesus is telling this parable against the Pharisees. Like the older son, they have relied on their observance of the Jewish tradition for their salvation. In doing so however they, like the older son, have lost sight of their dependence on God and on God’s grace. Instead of seeking a genuine relationship based on an honest view of themselves, they have developed some sort of replacement for a relationship based on formulas and rules. Their resultant self-assurance means that they have no reason to look beyond the surface of their lives to see that they are in fact self-righteous, judgemental, unforgiving and self-serving. They don’t understand that by hiding their real selves behind observance of rules and the keeping of traditions, they are not only limiting their growth, but they are also denying themselves an authentic relationship with God. At the same time, they are so used to measuring themselves against those who don’t measure up that they cannot comprehend that God might be able to have a more meaningful relationship with those who are more aware of and more readily acknowledge their imperfections. So it is with the older son.

Richard Rohr suggests that: “Sooner or later, if you are on any classic ‘spiritual schedule’, some event, person, death, idea, or relationship will enter your life that you simply cannot deal with, using your present skill set, your acquired knowledge, or your strong willpower. Spiritually speaking, you will be, you must be, led to the edge of your own spiritual resources.”[1] Sometimes, like the younger son, we need something to shake us out of our complacency, to help us to accept the love of God in our lives and to realise that ultimately nothing less than complete dependence on God will satisfy the longing of our souls. Until that point, we remain like the older son, limited to a superficial relationship with God, reliant on sterile observance of laws. We think that we have to earn God’s love and, blind to our own flaws and imperfections, we resent God’s generosity to others because we have not fully understood the generosity of God’s love for us.

The older son was not a bad person, just as the Pharisees were not bad Jews. Their mistake was a failure to understand that God’s love could not be bought by obeying rules and by observing traditions. They could not comprehend that it was in God’s nature to love and that as God loved them despite their shortcomings, so God loved all those who did not live up to their high standards. What the Pharisees and the older son simply did not understand is God’s love just cannot be bought. It is ours for free. It is when we truly comprehend how much our flawed, imperfect selves are loved by God that we understand God’s desire and right to extend that love to others. Knowing ourselves flawed and yet loved, lost and now found, we will be incapable of resentfully standing outside. Instead we will joyously and gratefully join in the celebrations, knowing that we ourselves are a cause for the party.


[1] Rohr, Richard. Falling Upwards: Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life. San Francisco: Jossey Bass, 2011, 65.

What do you need to give up?

October 13, 2012

Pentecost 20

Mark 10:17-31

Marian Free

 In the name of God who gives us all that we need. Amen.

Years ago I bought a book titled Poor in Spirit. It is filled with stories written by people living and working among the poor – both in the United States and in the Third World. The stories are varied – one tells how powerful it is to hear the mullah call the faithful to prayer before dawn and to greet and be greeted by everyone saying “God be with you.”  Another writes of the presence of God in the barrenness of the desert. Yet another tells of a baptism in the cow shed to demonstrate to others that one can be a Christian and not abandon one’s culture.

Today I’d like to share the story called “My Mother’s Blessing”. It tells the story of a young African who is brought up by his mother after the death of his Father. Mother and son become very close – she buys and sells fish and he prepares their dinner while he waits for her to come home at night. There are other children – daughters who have left home – but in this culture it is the son who is expected to care for the mother as she ages. It is difficult therefore for the son to confide to his mother that he has felt a call to become a member of a religious community and hard for his mother to accept his sense of vocation. She tries to dissuade him from this course of action but eventually resigns herself to the situation and does not mention it again.

The day comes for the son to leave home. His mother is old and frail; she knows that they may never see each other again. “Come,” she says, “Let us make our last offering to God.” She suggests that they say The Lord’s Prayer, the Apostle’s Creed and ten Hail Marys. Then, in a strong and confident voice she blesses her son: “All belongs to God and returns to God. Who am I to oppose your calling? Go! The greatest riches are not on earth. And thanks be to God for having chosen you.”[1]

Another title for the book could have been: “The greatest riches are not on earth.” A common theme of the stories is a deep trust in and a dependence on God that is not determined by the storyteller’s physical, material or emotional situation.

In today’s gospel we have three stories that are ostensibly about wealth – the rich man, the eye of the needle and the benefits that result from giving up everything to follow Jesus. It is easy to draw the conclusion from these that Jesus is demanding those who follow him to give up all their possessions and abandon everything to follow him. This section of the gospel can have a way of making us feel uncomfortable – none of us has taken the radical step of abandoning everything in order to be a disciple of Jesus.

I can’t speak for you, but I know that compared to those who live on one dollar a day I know that I am among the rich. Jesus’ encounter with the rich man leaves me wondering whether I too should sell all that I have and give it to the poor. The saying about the camel and the needle forces me to ask: how rich do I have to be to be unable to fit through the eye of a needle. Peter’s question brings me back to the rich man – how much does Jesus expect me to give up in order to be a disciple?

The gospels have a great deal to say about how we should use our resources. Jesus’ example and teaching urge us to care for the poor and the outcast. The beatitudes make it clear that the values of the Kingdom are not the values of the world: “blessed are the poor” we are told. There have been thousands if not thousands of thousands of Christians who have abandoned comfort and wealth to serve Jesus or to serve others. That said, it is important that we understand today’s gospel in its context. Is Jesus saying that the only way to follow him is to abandon everything?

I have found a small commentary by Paul Achtemeier[2] helpful. The wider context  of the gospel makes it clear that it is our attitude to our relative wealth, rather than wealth itself that is a problem.

Over the course of the last few weeks this has been a constant theme. We have been reminded not to compete but to be as a child, we have been exhorted not to hurt one of these little ones and told that unless we welcome the Kingdom as a child we will not enter it. Throughout this section of the gospel, Jesus has been trying to help his disciples to understand that the Kingdom is a gift, a gift to those who do not and cannot deserve it. Dependence on God and on God’s goodness is the primary criterion for entering the Kingdom of God.

It is within this context that we have to understand today’s gospel which, as I have said, consists of three distinct parts. First of all, the rich man comes to Jesus with a problem. He already keeps the commandments but he knows that something is missing – he knows that simply following the rules is not enough. Jesus’ response is radical and disturbing. He instructs the man to sell everything and to follow him. The man is a good person but he his wealth is more important to him than his relationship with God. He will have to give away his self-reliance if he is to achieve the relationship with God that he seeks. For the time being at least, this is more than the rich man is prepared to do.

Jesus’ conversation with the rich man does not establish a criterion for all people for all time – that would be to introduce a new rule, a goal to be reached. It would have the opposite effect and make us dependent on ourselves not God. Jesus’ conversation with the rich man establshes a general principle – nothing (wealth, achievement) should come between ourselves and God. Our confidence and hope should be in God alone.

Jesus continues this reflection – inheritance of the kingdom is not something that relies on any kind of achievement including wealth. Just as we cannot earn our way into heaven so we cannot buy our way into heaven. Inheritance of the kingdom, entry into eternal life is God’s gift to us and unless we can accept it as a gift, we like the rich man exclude ourselves from its benefits. The disciple’s question, “Then who can be saved?”, demonstrates just how difficult it is for human beings to give up their striving and rely on God. We find it so hard to accept that attaining the kingdom does not depend on our own efforts but on the free gift of God. Like the rich man we want to know what we can do, what rules we should obey in order to be saved. Like the disciples, we want to achieve it on our own merits, we like measurable goals, benchmarks that can be reached. Trusting in God’s love for us, does not provide enough certainty. We like to think that there is a certain standard against which we can measure ourselves. Giving up our need for certainty, trusting in God is both the hardest and easiest aspect of our faith.

Yet as Jesus goes on to say, if we can let go of our need for certainty and security the reward will be a hundred times more than anything we can imagine in this life or in the life to come.

What do you rely on more than God and how hard would it be to give it up?


[1] Lepetit, Charles. Poor in Spirit: Modern Parables of the Reign of God. Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1989, 61.

[2] Achtemeier, Paul. Invitation to Mark: A Commentary on the Gospel of Mark with Complete Text from the Jerusalem Bible. New York: Image Books, 1978.