Posts Tagged ‘exile’

A matter of life or death. Willingness to change and be changed

November 9, 2025

Pentecost 21 – 2025

Luke 20:27-40

Marian Free

 

In the name of God, Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver. Amen.

There are many who tend to think of the tenets of faith as fixed and unchanging that God is one thing and one alone, yet experience shows us that nothing could be further from the truth. Apart from anything else,  God is beyond our comprehension we, and we as mere humans, are always grasping for understanding, we are only ever ‘seeing through a mirror dimly’ (to quote the Apostle Paul). God is both known and unknown and our scriptures, our traditions and our dogmas are simply human attempts to put into words and actions the revelations about God that have been made manifest or experienced since the beginning of time. What this means is that over time changes, subtle and not so subtle, come about as believers form new insights, as scientists broaden our horizons, or as the faith moves into and learns from or adapts to new situations.

We should not be surprised that this is the case, for we are followers of that great disrupter Jesus who challenged cherished traditions, confronted outmoded regulations and who insisted that sinners (even Samaritans) be included in God’s kingdom. We are followers of Jesus, Jesus the change-maker who so offended the religious establishment of his day that they put him to death rather than change their fixed ideas about God and faith.

Christianity itself did not emerge from a monolithic, stable belief system. The Old Testament demonstrates that there were changes over time as the people responded to the prompting of the Holy Spirit – through direct communication, through the prophets and through changes in circumstance.

A clear example of this willingness to accept and adopt new insights is demonstrated by the development of a belief in angels and a belief in the resurrection of the dead. Up until the time of the exile in Babylon, neither of these formed a part of the Jewish faith. Prior to the exile for example, it was believed that a person went to Sheol after death, to “a land of deep gloom and darkness” according to Job (10:21). It was thought that all humanity (good and bad alike) would end up in that dark and joyless place in which, the Psalmist tells us, there is no memory of God (6:5). In Babylon, the exiles were exposed to a belief in life after death, a belief which many embraced and incorporated into their ancient faith. Likewise with angels. Winged creatures had no place in the earliest forms of Judaism. Messengers from God, intermediaries between God and humanity, such as those who visited Abraham took the form of people.  It is only after the return from exile that angels find their way into our ancient texts.  Decades of living among the Babylonians saw the absorption of Babylonian ideas into the Jewish faith.

Change as we know is not always universally embraced. Some cling on to the old ideas, confident that faith is static and fixed. So the idea of a resurrection of the dead was not universally accepted which explains the debate in this morning’s gospel. In the first century there were many different expressions of Judaism – different attitudes to the purity regulations, to the Temple and to a belief in the resurrection. The Pharisees, lay men who preferenced the law over ritual, believed in the resurrection. Sadducees, priests who preferenced ritual over law did not. Both groups in their different ways tried to catch Jesus on the practice of the law or the interpretation of the scriptures primarily so that they could discredit him before the people and in so doing diminish Jesus’ influence and the threat he posed to their influence over the people.

Today it is the turn of the Sadducees to try to trick Jesus. Referring to the law of Moses, they are confident that they can expose the folly of a belief in the resurrection of the dead. Jesus, however, is not is easily trapped and he in turn reveals the narrowness and foolishness of the thinking of the Sadducees. Resurrection life Jesus points out, is not a replication of our earthly existence but something different altogether.

Though they had different ideas about the resurrection of the dead, the Sadducees, the Pharisees thought that they had God and faith and the law worked out. They knew or thought they knew what God wanted and lived their lives accordingly. Jesus, with his new and different teaching, his willingness to break the law and his refusal to conform unsettled their sense of complacency and security. In the end, they felt that it was only by destroying him that they could find peace.

Over the centuries the church has made the same mistakes as their forbears- setting in stone, things that were never intended to be immutable. Yet, at the same time the church has demonstrated a willingness to re-examine ancient practices and beliefs and to acknowledge that at times we have got it wrong and that at times we have caused more harm than good – the endorsement of slavery being the most obvious example. The world and the church is in a constant state of flux. If we are not to become self satisfied and complacent like the Pharisees and the Sadducees, if we are to avoid the trap of believing that we know all there is to know and if we are ready to acknowledge that we do not have the mind of God, we have to develop a a sense of curios expectancy, remain prayerfully open to the movement of the Holy Spirit and examine new ideas thoughtfully and prayerfully rather than fearfully and timidly.

We have to find the courage to admit, as Paul did that our knowledge can only ever be partial because a God that can be fully known is no god and the opposite of faith is certainty. (God is God of the living not do the dead.)

May we have the courage to listen for the voice of the Holy Spirit, be responsive to the winds of change and humbly acknowledge that God, as God, can never be defined or confined by the limits of our minds.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Promise and threat

December 9, 2017

Advent 2 – 2017

Mark 1:1-8

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who comforts the disturbed and disturbs the comfortable. Amen.

Isaiah calls out to those in exile:

“In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,

make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

Every valley shall be lifted up,

and every mountain and hill be made low;

the uneven ground shall become level,

and the rough places a plain.

Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,

and all people shall see it together,

for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

God has charged Isaiah with a message of assurance for the Israelites. The time of their banishment has ended. Soon they will be able to return to their homes. What is more, a road will be prepared for them so that they do not encounter too many obstacles on their way. Isaiah declared that despite all that their forebears have done, despite their present anxieties and fears, God has not forgotten them. During their exile the Israelites have recognised their dependence on God and God, who observed their remorse had sent the prophet with words of comfort and hope.

Centuries later, the author of Mark’s gospel used these same words more as a threat than a promise. John the Baptist did not offer words of assurance but rather insisted that the people: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” Instead of offering comfort to a suffering people, John demanded that the people admit and repent of their sins, that they turn their lives around in order to make the path clear for the coming of God.

Isaiah reassured the people that God had forgiven their transgressions and would come to them and will comfort them. In contrast John the Baptist warned the people to seek forgiveness for their transgressions because God was coming among them.

In Mark the words of Isaiah are applied to a different time and place. Whereas the Israelites in exile needed to hear words of comfort and reassurance, the people of the first century needed to be confronted and challenged. The exile had given the Israelites plenty of time to think about the past and to long for their relationship with God to be restored, whereas the situation of the 1st century had allowed them to once again become complacent. It was true that the Romans had occupied the land, but the Temple still stood and the people were free to worship and offer sacrifices without too much interference. Such freedoms however had come at a cost. The priests and leaders of the Israelites had accommodated themselves to the Roman occupation. They had made themselves comfortable with the present situation and they had made compromises that meant that they had lost the trust of the people and led others to believe that the Temple and its worship had become corrupted. They had lost sight of their need to trust in and depend on God to take care of all their needs. They felt that they were comfortable enough. They did not need a prophet to speak words of comfort. They needed to be challenged and confronted. They needed to be forced to consider what was really important – their own comfort or their relationship with God.

Isaiah offered comfort. John demanded repentance. Our scriptures are full of these kinds of contradictions: comfort and judgement, reassurance and challenge, compassion and rage. The different voices of our scriptures reflect the different situations into which they speak. There are times when the prophets need to censure the people of Israel, to remind them of their true calling and to bring them back to God. At other times, often when the people of Israel have been humbled and humiliated – the prophets need to speak words of reassurance and comfort, to reassure the people that God has seen their suffering and has not abandoned them.

The different voices of scripture speak to our own situations. There are times in our lives when we need to know God’s loving presence: when a loved one is dying, when we have lost our job or when our child comes up against an obstacle. At such times it is easy to recognise our dependence on God and to seek the comfort of God’s presence. There are times in our lives when everything seems to be going along smoothly, when we are at peace with the world around us. At such times it is easy to take God for granted, to lose sight of our dependence on God and to go our own way.

The contradictions that we find in scripture help us to seek the right balance between anxiety and complacency. Threats of judgement remind us that we cannot take our relationship with God for granted. Like any other relationship, our relationship with God can be damaged by neglect, by carelessness and disregard and when it is damaged we will experience the pain and heartache of being separated from God as if we really were in exile. Words of comfort provide us with hope in our moments of darkness and despair. They remind us that no matter how far we have strayed, God is constant and will never abandon us.

The tensions and contradictions in our scriptures serve to heighten our awareness of our relationship with God and encourage us to take stock of our lives. Words of judgement and calls to repentance remind us that there are consequences to pay for going our own way. Words of comfort provide strength and encouragement in those times when we are tempted to feel lost and alone.

This Advent, may the contradictions and tensions of our scriptures keep us on our toes, help us to focus on what is really important and prevent us from falling into the sort of complacency that allows us to neglect God and to forget how much God has done for us. May words of comfort not blind us to the need to be on the alert so that we are ready when Christ should come again.

Who is in and who is out?

January 4, 2014

Epiphany 2014

Matthew 2:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God, whose love knows no bounds and creates no boundaries for those who would love God in return. Amen.

I imagine that many of you have seen the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding. It is a wonderful, light-hearted look at a family of Greek migrants in the United States. Like many migrants, they have formed their own sub-community and have done what they can to maintain their culture in a new and strange land. One of the ways in which this extended family can ensure that their traditions are maintained is to insist that their offspring marry someone of Greek descent who will be like them. The movie follows a young woman, her desire to build her own life and to marry the American man with whom she has fallen in love. We watch in agony as her Father parades a number of less-than-attractive but suitable Greek men before he is persuaded to give in and allow her to marry the man of her choice. Along the way we observe the difficulties of two different cultures coming to grips with each other and the migrants letting go of their rigid insistence on remaining apart.

 Of course, the movie is an exaggeration but I grew up in a Brisbane in which recent Mediterranean migrants mostly lived in West End with others who shared their language and ate their food. The supermarket in that suburb was stocked with huge tins of olive oil and the fruit shops introduced us to exotic vegetables like zucchini (which as a child I could have well done without)!

It is human nature to seek out those who support and encourage us, to find those with whom we have something in common, to mix with those who share our background, language and history. Migrants in particular often form communities in the new countries in which they find themselves. Living close to those who have shared their past and their journey to another world provides a sense of continuity, makes the present less strange and makes it easier to practice one’s faith, to cook the foods one is used to and to speak a familiar language and be understood. 

From what we can glean from the New Testament Judaism, in the first century at least, had very clear boundaries and cultural identifiers. According to Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus claimed to have come for “the lost sheep of Israel”, and all the Gospels make a clear distinction between those who are Jews and those who are not. Paul’s letters to the Romans and Galatians indicate just how strong Jewish ethnic boundaries were and how effective they had been in keeping others out. These included adherence to the law – including dietary regulations and purity laws – the circumcision of every male and belief in the one God.

These borders appear to have been fiercely guarded. Outsiders who admired and practiced the faith usually only obtained the status of “God-fearers” and were never fully included as members of “God’s chosen people”.

It is difficult to know if this was always the case, but almost certainly the experience of the exile (500 years before Jesus), would have served to define and harden national identity. It would make sense that those living in exile in Babylon would have placed an emphasis on those characteristics that distinguished them from the culture around them. (We see in the Book of Daniel a description of how some people responded to living in a culture vastly different from their own. In the face of great opposition, and at the risk of his life, Daniel holds fast to his identity and refuses to compromise his beliefs and the practices associated with his faith.)

When the exiles return home they have a clearer vision of who they are, but it is not long before they are again under foreign rule – this time in their own land. By the time that Jesus is born, Palestine has been ruled by foreign powers for over three hundred years. It would be reasonable to suppose that this too created a need for them to preserve their unique identity, to stress their distinctiveness and so claim their place in the world. Those who had left Palestine and settled in other parts of the Empire may (like today’s migrants) have drawn in on themselves and stressed the importance of the things that made them different from the world around them.

For Christians reading the Old Testament, the exclusiveness of first century Judaism is harder to understand. Books like the book of Ruth and Jonah tell, in different ways, the story of God’s concern for and desire to include every nation in the covenant that God made with Abraham. Ruth is a Moabite (non-Jewish) woman who becomes the forebear of David and therefore of the expected Saviour. Jonah’s task is to warn the Ninevites (non-Jews) of God’s wrath and to urge them to repent. According to the Book of Kings, the Queen of Sheba travels to meet King Solomon, to pay homage and to listen to his wisdom and according to the prophet Isaiah, Cyrus, the Persian King is God’s anointed or Messiah. In more than one Psalm, the author sees a time when the whole world will stream to Jerusalem. As we read the Old Testament, it seems clear that God’s intention was always to include the Gentiles.

 By the first century, possibly because the Jewish people were feeling so embattled, they had not only drawn clear lines around themselves but, from what we can tell, they had come to the conclusion that a Jewish Saviour would only save the Jews – or those who were prepared to become Jews. This created a dilemma for the early believers. Many Gentiles had come to faith in Jesus just as they had and what is more, they too had received the gift of the Holy Spirit as a result of that faith. Could they be excluded from membership in this new community simply because they were not Jews by birth? The answer was “no”. Both Acts and the letter to the Galatians tell us that the issue was resolved at a council held in Jerusalem. Rather than be compelled to become Jews, Gentile converts were required only to observe a minimum number of practices in order to belong.

A different dilemma faced the Gospel writers who, some twenty years later, had to confront the reality that Jesus, the Jewish Saviour, had made a greater impact on the Gentiles than he had on the Jews. In order to resolve this puzzle, it was important that they discover and record the evidence that Jesus’ ministry clearly demonstrated an intention to include the Gentiles. In the Gospels there are accounts of Jesus commending Gentiles who exhibit more faith than the Jews, of a Canaanite woman who argues that her daughter deserves to be healed, Jesus’ command to make disciples of all nations and his promise that the disciples will receive the Holy Spirit and be his witnesses to the ends of the earth.

It is in this context that we are to understand Matthew’s account of the coming of the Magi. The author of Matthew, whom we believe was writing for a primarily Jewish community, needed to make it clear that right from the very beginning of the story, Jesus was recognised and worshipped by Gentiles. Furthermore, these magicians – astrologers or scholars – were no ordinary people, but, like the Queen of Sheba who visited Solomon, they were people of significance and wealth who come to pay homage to a Jewish Saviour. In this way the author of Matthew establishes that, from his infancy, Jesus was identified as the Saviour not only of the Jews but of the whole world. The implication being that if Jesus is the Saviour of the world, then those who are not Jews by birth or practice can and should be included in the worshipping community. Anyone who has faith in Jesus can belong.

It is always a mistake to try to second-guess God, to believe that we can determine who is in and who is out, who to include and who to exclude. If we are rigid and exclusive, if we insist that only those who behave in a certain way can belong, we are in danger of drawing our boundaries too close and of failing to see what God is doing in the world.

Who do we exclude and why? If anyone who has faith can belong, who are we to decide who is in and who is out?