Posts Tagged ‘expectations’

What sort of king?

November 26, 2024

Christ the King – 2024

John 18:33-37

Marian Free

In the name of God who continues to surprise, confound and amaze us.  Amen.

Many years ago, I read an article in an occupational therapy journal about children in foster care. It reported that no matter how much abuse or neglect a child had suffered at the hands of a natural parent they still wanted to go home. It seemed that the idea of family, mother, father created a deep longing to belong, even if the child’s reality did not live up to expectation. Apparently, an abusive mother was better than no mother, a disparaging, derisive father was better than no father. 

Terms like mother, father, mum, dad, family come laden with meaning – often idealistic and vastly different from many people’s reality. Few parents are perfect and even if they were, their styles of parenting would differ according to their own experience, their personalities and the relationship that they have with each other – no one family is the same. Even though the definition of “family” has vastly changed over the last 50 years, still many of us have an idea of what a mother/father/family should be like[1].  

The same is true of the expression “God”. In the eighties and nineties many feminists and others chose to use the term “Godde” to make it clear that the divinity in whom they believed was not a bearded, white-haired man sitting on a throne, condemning people to the fire of hell and that “Godde’ was much bigger and broader than the narrow image that was circulating. Many of us still confront the problem that the God which many of our friends have rejected is unrecognisable to us – a human invention not a revelation of scripture ad certainly not related to our experience.

Over and again, scripture confronts a narrow, unimaginative concept of God, an image of God that is easier to manage, understand and, dare I say, control. In a phrase that I often repeat, Isaiah says: “God’s thoughts are not our thoughts and God’s ways are not our ways.” (Is 55:8).  Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians makes the same point when he  argues that the cross exposes our false understanding and overturns all our preconceptions. “God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.” (1 Cor 1: 28).

Though there might be some assumptions that we can make about God, God consistently overturns and challenges our simple-minded ideas.  Nowhere is this more obvious than with the person Jesus. On every level, Jesus failed to meet expectations and at every turn Jesus refused to be bound by the limits of the human mind. Jesus came to serve not to be served, he argued that the first would be last, and announced – not that he would lead the Israelites to victory – but that he would suffer and die.

That Jesus confounds every attempt to label him and to box him in, is particularly clear in Jesus’ interaction with Pilate. Despite the fact that Pilate is in a position to put Jesus to death, Jesus refuses to give Pilate a clear answer to Pilate’s question as to who he is. In response to Pilate’s questioning Jesus is evasive, elusive and enigmatic. 

Until the moment of Jesus’ trial, Jesus was probably unknown to Pilate and now he is brought before him by the Jews (whose traditions and laws Pilate does not understand, and over whom he has no jurisdiction). Pilate makes an attempt to discover who and what Jesus is, yet Jesus speaks in riddles and throws Pilates’ questions back to him. “What makes you think I’m a king?”

Jesus does not deny that he is a king, but he is clear that like “God” and “family” the title “king” is impregnated with meaning and expectation and that if he admits to being “king” Pilate (and the crowd) will impose their own understanding on the word – Pilate will see Jesus as a threat to Caesar and the crowd will expect him to seek power.

By prevaricating, by being evasive, by not directly answering Pilate’s question, Jesus is trying to redefine “kingship”. Yes, he is a king, but not the sort of king that people are used to – not a king who enriches himself at the expense of others, not a king who expects everyone to be subservient to him, not a king that seeks to dominate and oppress all the nations of the world. Jesus is king of an unworldly kingdom, a king whose primary purpose is to testify to the truth – the content of which is contained in John’s gospel, the purpose of which is that those who hear Jesus’ voice will attain eternal life.

In just five verses the author of the gospel has de-stabliised and undermined the traditional understanding of what it means to be king. Jesus is king, but he is king on his own terms, he will not be defined and confined by the expectations of others – whether they be his fellow Jews or the representatives of Rome.

The passage is left hanging with Pilate’s question: “What is truth?” 

There is an interesting twist to John’s account of Jesus’ trial and crucifixion. Traditionally a name is attached to the cross to identify the one being crucified. Pilate orders that the sign on Jesus’ cross read (in Hebrew, Latin and Greek): “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.” Despite the objections of the Jews, Pilate leaves the wording as it is. Has Pilate come to see the truth? Has he grasped that Jesus is a king (albeit a very different one) or is this is Pilate’s way of justifying an execution which at heart he believes is not justified.

Either way, Jesus’ crucifixion is the ultimate act de-stablises, unsettles and even undermines all our expectations of what it means to be King of the Jews, the one sent by God, the anointed.  

Jesus’ dialogue with Pilate, is a reminder that the narrative is not within our control, that God the Trinity will always act in ways that we do not expect and will always defy our attempts to categorise and define.  In the face of Pilate’s efforts to label him Jesus infuses the expression with new meaning.  He is a king, but he is a king like no other (before or since).

May all our longings for the kingdom be tempered by the knowledge that the kingdom is not of our making and that our human intellects are inadequate to the task of truly comprehending who and what God is, what it is that God plans, and what the kingdom will finally be revealed to be.


[1] Of course, the nature of families has completely changed and with that comes a change in expectations.

Boxed in – Jesus in Nazareth

July 6, 2024

Pentecost 7 – 2024

Mark 6:1-13

Marian Free

In the name of God who always surprises us and who always breaks through our narrow limitations. Amen.

There was a time, not so long ago, when parents of children with Down’s Syndrome were advised to put them in an institution and forget about them. Indeed, such was the case as recently as 1997 when Queenslander Rosanne Stuart gave birth to her daughter Madeline. According to an article in Vogue magazine, “before she could even see her, the baby was whisked away to another room. The doctor told her to leave the baby at the hospital and start over; pointing out the child would never amount to anything and would only mature to the mental age of a seven year old”.[1] Thankfully Rosanne ignored the doctor’s advice, and like many parents of her generation, refused to be bound by societal (and sometimes medical) expectations. She brought up her daughter, Madeline, to believe that she was beautiful and could do anything. Madeline is now an international model (perhaps the first person with Down Syndrome to take to the catwalk). She has participated in New York fashion week and taken to the runway in such places as Paris, London, Runway Dubai and Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week China.

Madeline is just one example of the ways in which the world in general is refusing to be bound by stereotypes, and in which parents are refusing to limit children who do not fit the norm. The examples are too numerous to mention, but one other Australian who has refused to be boxed and limited by labels is Michael Theo.  Michael is the neurodivergent star of the ABC series Austin. He has participated in the TV programme Love on the Spectrum, is an animal rights advocate, podcaster and much more.   

For too long we have classified people according to their looks, their athletic ability, their shape and size, and by whether their body or their mind fits the so-called norm. Society as a whole has refused to recognise that those who do not fit the stereotype might in fact have talents just waiting to be identified and nurtured. Thankfully, in recent decades, we have begun to value people for who they are, rather than try to force them to fit a particular mould. Today we have the Para-Olympics to showcase the talents of those born without limbs, those permanently altered by injury and anyone else who would be disadvantaged by competing against athletes whose bodies fit the norm. We are less and less likely to decide who can represent us – in film, in sport, and in any other endeavour – according to how much like ourselves they are.

Today’s gospel has to do with expectations, about boxing people in so that they fit our image of them. Having wandered around Galilee teaching and healing, Jesus has returned to his home town. On the Sabbath, he teaches in their synagogue. Those who hear him are initially astounded, but immediately they begin to question themselves: “Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him?” they ask with a certain amount of scepticism.  This is Jesus, they know who he is – one of them.  It seems that they cannot allow Jesus to be anything other than the person whom they believe him to be. They have known Jesus for most, if not all, of his life, and it appears that they simply cannot let go of the image of the Jesus whom they knew before this transformation. He is the child of questionable birth – the child of Mary (not Joseph). He is the young boy who played with their children, the brother of young men whom they know – James and Joses and Judas and Simon. His sisters still live among them – ordinary women living ordinary lives. He is a carpenter, not a prophet or miracle worker.

The people of Nazareth have boxed Jesus in. They can’t imagine that he can really be anyone other than the Jesus they have always known. Their limited imaginations cannot allow for him to have changed so radically – to have become one who is well-versed in scripture and who has power to heal. None of this was evident when he lived among them, or, if it was, they were blind to his potential. Their lack of belief makes it impossible for Jesus to do much for them. They have put up imperviable barriers between themselves and him, that even divinity cannot cross.

The response of the Nazoreans to Jesus is an example of our own response to God. How often do we limit God, Jesus, or the Spirit as a consequence of our expectations being either too grand, or too narrow? How often is God the Trinity prevented from acting in our lives because we are disappointed that the Triune God does not live up to our expectations or because our expectations are simply too low? We, like Jesus’ neighbours have formed an image of God – who God is and what God can do. We expect extraordinary miracles and are disappointed when God acts differently. Alternatively, we expect very little and so give God little opportunity to do anything for us. We hope for grand signs and fail to see the presence of God all around us. We try to define God when God is simply unable to be defined. We box God in, try to make God conform to our idea of God and in so doing miss God’s mystery and grandeur. 

The very nature of God should continually surprise, astound and astonish us. Our relationship with God should be not one of familiarity but one of expectation and uncertainty. God may be present in the ordinary as well as the extraordinary. God may reveal Godself in mighty acts or quiet whispers. God may heal broken bodies, but more often will mend broken souls. God will never, ever be what we perceive God to be, for then God would not be God.

Our task is to suspend our need to understand, to categorise, and to define, and to retain a joyful openness to God’s presence such that when God catches us by surprise, instead of saying: “That can’t be God,”  we will be able to say wholeheartedly:  “Ah, yes, there God is.”


[1] https://www.vogue.com.au/fashion/news/meet-australian-madeline-stuart-the-worlds-first-professional-model-with-down-syndrome/news-story/c90e9224d9586e7840362a9ea0a4bf8a

Let God be God (first prediction of suffering)

February 27, 2024

Lent 2 – 2024

Mark 8:31-38

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who unsettles and confuses us.  Amen.

 

Poor Peter! Only moments before today’s scenario, Peter has identified Jesus as the Christ and now Jesus is accusing him of being Satan! Harsh words indeed.

 The problem is that Peter has a preconceived idea of what the Christ should be and whatever that idea is, it doesn’t involve God’s chosen suffering and dying at the hands of the religious leaders. It is easy to judge Peter – how could he not know what was to happen to Jesus? We forget that there is much that is hidden from our 21st century eyes and we don’t realise that our vision is clouded because we know the end of the story. We know that Jesus rose from the dead and we know that the resurrection and the giving of the Holy Spirit led to the spreading of the gospel.

It is obvious to us that Jesus should suffer and die, because that is what did happen. But imagine what it was like for the first disciples. They lived under oppressive Roman rule, their lives were governed by taxes on everything from the roads, to fishing, to their catch of fish. The might of Rome was impossible to resist. Indeed, those who resisted were put to death by crucifixion. Thousands of Galileans has been crucified for insurrection – their crosses lining the roads so that everyone might learn what it meant to take on the Empire. That is the political climate in which the disciples lived, but there was also the culture of faith in which they were raised. They may not have been regular attendees at the synagogue, but they would certainly have absorbed the teachings, customs and expectations of Judaism. Based on the OT and on the traditions that had built up over time, they would have shared with their fellow-believers a hope that God would send a Saviour figure.

 Unfortunately, we cannot be 100% sure just what made up those expectations were. The only writings that are contemporaneous with the life of Jesus are the Dead Sea Scrolls which represent a small fraction of. the Jewish population. Our ideas about are clouded by  NT interpretations which were designed to make sense of the events of Jesus’ life – that is, they were written in hindsight on the basis of their conviction that Jesus was “the one” sent by God. A reading of the OT and of the intertestamental literature reveals that there was not one, but a number of different expectations. What they have in common is a conviction that God would send someone to save Israel (from their sins or from the Romans.) The central figure of those expectations was variously a King, a warrior, or a priest.

What no one seems to have expected was a humble, travelling teacher from Galilee – certainly not someone born in obscurity, who critiqued the religion and who allowed himself to be arrested and to die. After all what good is a defeated, dead Messiah?

It is easy to sympathize with Peter. Peter has just identified Jesus as the Christ (Messiah) – and Jesus’ response has indicated that Peter is right. Yet barely has this interaction concluded when Jesus announces that “the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.” Peter must have been shaken to his core. Nothing in his past experience or his faith journey has prepared for a suffering Christ, let alone a Christ who dies (without achieving the defeat of Rome, or the restoration of the faith of Israel.)

 What Jesus has said would have made no sense to Peter or to the other disciples. Why would God send the Christ only to have him suffer and die? Of what value would that have been for those who have waited for generations for God to send someone to save them? Of course, we can see that Jesus announces his death in connection with his resurrection, but the notion of someone rising from the dead would have been well beyond Peter’s imagining as would the thought that one person’s dying and rising would make a difference on a grand scale.

 Unlike us, Peter has no idea where the story might end. So, flush with his newfound confidence that he has recognised Jesus as the Christ, Peter no doubt felt emboldened to take Jesus aside and rebuke him.After all what Jesus has said makes no sense at all. Jesus must be mistaken, Peter knew the expected trajectory of a triumphant Saviour and Jesus’ death was not part of it!

Peter’s problem, and ours, is that we think we know what God wants and how God will respond which is why Jesus didn’t measure up to the expectations of people – because they were human expectations not God’s plan. Jesus was not believed because his ideas were too radical, because he refused to judge ‘sinners’ but was happy to critique the self-righteous, and because he had no formal authority in the church structure.

 If we do not want to make Peter’s mistake, if we don’t want to be on the side of Satan rather than on the side of God, we must free ourselves of all our preconceptions, let go of all our expectations, open our minds to the unknown and, above all, we must let God be God (not our version of God).  

What are we expecting? The Transfiguration

August 6, 2023

Transfiguration (2) – 2023
Mark 9:2-10
Marian Free

In the name of God who reveals godself through Jesus Christ. Amen.

The nature of Jesus was a matter of much debate in the first few centuries of the Christian church. Theologians of the day wondered: Was Jesus divine? Was he human? Was he human only to become divine at the resurrection? Did he only appear to be human, but was really divine? If Jesus was the Son of God did this make him subordinate to God? and so on. This issue was a serious cause of contention and division until Constantine called the Council of Nicea to put an end to the debate once and for all. At that Council Bishops and theologians concluded (based on their studies of scripture) that Jesus was/is both fully human and fully divine. The Nicaean Creed, which we will say shortly, resulted from the Council and remains the standard of orthodoxy to this day.

“We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
the only Son of God,
eternally begotten of the Father,
God from God, Light from Light,
true God from true God,
begotten not made,
of one being through the Father,
through him all things were made.”

Despite this, there are some 1700 years later I still meet people who struggle to grasp that Jesus can be both fully God and fully human. I have some sympathy for their point of view. The gospels tell the story of Jesus’ very human existence. Jesus gets tired, sad, and angry. He needs to eat and sleep. He grieves and rejoices. In the end Jesus allows himself to be arrested and tortured and he even dies. It is true that Jesus performs miracles, but in many ways does not behave as one might expect God to behave. He mixes with the wrong kinds of people; he does not rain down fire on the cities that reject him, and he does not call angels to his aid. Again – he dies. (Surely God does not die!)

It is only in John’s gospel that we begin to see a clear understanding of Jesus’ divinity. The gospel begins with the claim that Jesus and God were co-creators of the universe and throughout that gospel Jesus claims that if “you have seen me, you have seen the Father” and “the Father and I are one”. The Gospel of John was written quite late and after some reflection, but our earliest records, the letters of Paul, make it clear that from the beginning Jesus’ divinity was taken for granted – even if it wasn’t explicit or clearly spelled out in a credal statement. In the letters, Paul uses the expressions “God, Lord and Spirit” interchangeably, indicating that he (and therefore the early church) took for granted that there was one God (Father, Son and Spirit) – even though it was to take a couple of centuries for theologians to formalize this faith into the doctrine of the Trinity and to make a definitive statement about the nature of Jesus.

We might wonder why it took the disciples and then the church so long to make up their minds, and why there was so much debate concerning the nature of Jesus. After all, readers of scripture know that the true nature of Jesus is announced at the very beginning of his public ministry. At Jesus’ baptism the spirit descends on Jesus and a voice declares: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” If that were not clear enough at Jesus’ transfiguration not only is Jesus transformed before Peter, James, and John, but the words pronounced at Jesus’ baptism are repeated: “This is my beloved Son, listen to him.”

It is important to note that unlike the first disciples, we have the benefit of hindsight and of two thousand years of church history and theology. The disciples might have had the advantage of knowing Jesus personally, but we have the gospels and the experience of the early believers to fall back on. We, for example can read about Jesus’ baptism, but so far as we know, none of the disciples were present and at least until the Transfiguration (and perhaps even then), the nature of Jesus was confusing. He did not conform to their expectations. He was not a king or a warrior. The priests and religious elite did not follow him and perhaps most puzzling of all was his prediction that he was going to suffer. Nothing had prepared Jesus’ followers for a suffering Christ. Jesus was not going to exert power over the authorities of this world (be they Jewish or Roman) – just the opposite. Jesus was going to allow the world to destroy him. No wonder the disciples were at a loss to understand who and what he was.

The scenario that leads into the account of the Transfiguration illustrates this tension perfectly. Jesus has asked the disciples: “Who do you say that I am?” And, after some false starts the disciples respond: Elijah, one of the prophets. Finally, Peter declares: “You are the Christ.” When however, Jesus continues by telling the disciples that: “Son of Man must undergo great suffering.” Peter cannot take this in and he pulls Jesus aside and rebukes him. Peter’s insight into the nature of Jesus is only partial. He simply cannot comprehend a suffering Christ. He wants Jesus to fit the model of the Christ that he holds in his head. His preconception about an anointed one colours his perception of the Jesus who is in front of him and blinds him to the possibility that Jesus could be anything other than a triumphant Messiah.

Seen from this angle, the Transfiguration is more than a vision or a revelation. It is more than an affirmation of Jesus’ divine yet human nature. Rather it is an exposè of the ways in which we, like Peter react to Jesus, our expectation that Jesus will fit our idea of what he should be, and of our desire to hold on to moments of transcendence so that we can ignore the harsh reality of a suffering Messiah. The Transfiguration is a reminder to us that we should not allow ourselves be blinded by our preconceived ideas of Jesus, that we should see Jesus as he was and that if we hope to know Jesus when he comes again, we must be open to all the ways in which God might reveal Godself to the world – however surprising and unexpected.

God in the small things

December 17, 2022

Advent 3 – 2022
Matthew 11:2-11 (some belated thoughts)
Marian Free

What no eye has seen nor ear heard, the Lord has prepared for those who love him. Amen.

Even though none of us can predict the future, we all have certain expectations. Some expectations are realistic – the sun will rise tomorrow, we will get older rather than younger, we will continue to love our children. Much, however, is beyond our control. We cannot know with any certainty what tomorrow will bring – whether we will still have a job, whether our health will hold, what the weather will do. Even so, because it is difficult to live with uncertainty we make plans, we assume that things will stay the same and that we will be able to determine our futures. For many of us, things work out – if not exactly as expected. We finish our education, get a job, form a relationship, and are generally satisfied with our lot. Others, for reasons that are not always within their control, reach a certain age and find themselves wondering what went wrong, why their life hasn’t worked out as they thought it would. In the worst-case scenarios, some wonder if they have wasted their lives, or if fate has been against them.

This seems to be the situation in which John the Baptist. now finds himself. Having started out confident that he knew what the future held, he now finds himself languishing in prison, wondering if he was right when, certain that God’s promised one would come, he had announced that Jesus was the one. Now he is not so sure. His expectations (whatever they were), have not been met. The Roman oppressors have not been overthrown, the Temple practices are still corrupt and the difference between rich and poor remains the same. Has his life been wasted? Should he have taken a different turn? Did he mistake his role, his place in God’s plan?

Whatever was going on in John’s mind, it is clear that he needed some reassurance, some certainty that he had been on the right track. He sends his disciples to Jesus. to ask whether he really is the one who is to come, or should they be looking for another?

Jesus’ response is interesting. Instead of answering John’s disciples directly, he tells them to look around themselves and to notice that the blind have received their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised and the poor have good news brought to them. In other words, Jesus points out to John that there are signs that God is active in the world in ways that God had not been active before. The signs are subtle to be sure, but they are obvious to anyone who looks carefully. God (through Jesus) is not upending the world, overthrowing the oppressors, demanding complete and total obedience from God’s followers. God is making the sorts of changes in peoples’ lives that allow them to live well under any external circumstances. Jesus is making people whole. He is not filling them with rage and encouraging them to use violence to overthrow the Romans – that would be only a temporary solution. The blind would still be blind, the lepers unclean. People would still be unsatisfied with their lot.

Jesus brings wholeness – not revolution. John’s fiery proclamation was to turn people’s hearts towards God, to enable them to be receptive to the one whom God sent, to be willing to submit themselves to God’s will, rather than to long for God to radically change the world.

We are not told John’s reaction to Jesus’ response, but there is of course a lesson for us in this gospel.

In a world beset by war and terror, the effects of climate change, corruption and inequity, it can be difficult to see the evidence that God is active in the world. We, like John, can be filled with despair and wonder if we have it right. At such times we, like John need to be reminded that God is not to be found in the dramatic, that God does not take sides (which might make things worse rather than better), and that humankind has not, as a whole, turned to God. Jesus wants us to see that none of that means that God is absent from the world or from our lives. God can be found in everyday miracles – new shoots after a fire, a child’s smile, the goodness of strangers, the sacrificial acts of aid workers and more especially in the birth of a child – who contrary to all expectations will change the world.

–>

November 25, 2022

Advent 1 – 2022

Matthew 24:36-44

Marian Free

In the name of God who is always near, and always coming. Amen

Unless the danger is real, it is impossible to live constantly on the edge, or in a heightened state of awareness. After the September 11 attacks for example, we were urged to be constantly alert to any unusual or unattended package or luggage and, for a while, we were “alert, but not alarmed”. Thankfully, there have been no bombs and in Australia, terror attacks were largely averted or limited in their impact. Over time, the messaging stopped and the fear of a terrorist attack no longer felt real.[1] People began to let down their guard, to stop living as if an attack were imminent. More recently of course, we have lived with a constant fear of COVID. Even though that was threat was very real and impacted on every person, few have remained are as cautious as they once were. Even though, in Australia, a fourth wave has hit, the number of people wearing masks is considerably lower than it was six months ago. The danger is real, but the energy to deal with it is missing because, by and large, the community is exhausted by the stress of the last few years. It is  simply impossible to constantly live on a knife’s edge. When the immediate danger has passed, most of us breathe a sigh of relief and go back to the way we were before.

 

This, I imagine, was the situation for which Matthew (indeed all the Synoptics were written). Jesus had suggested that he would return and gather believers to himself and, if further evidence were needed, he had not established any formal structures that would have implied that he expected a community to form, to establish ways of being together and to develop leadership structures. Fifty years after Jesus’ ascension into heaven it was no longer possible to live with the same sense of urgency that might have been expected immediately after

 

No doubt the first generation of believers had lived with an air of anticipation, aware that Jesus might appear at any time and that they must be ready for his return. At the time Matthew was writing, the faith community consisted of third generation believers. Those who knew the earthly Jesus had died and those who now believed had apparently become complacent (as is attested by Matthew’s parables of the bridesmaids and the sheep and the goats.) No one can constantly live on tenterhooks and maintaining a sense of trepidation is increasingly difficult especially in a time when the threat of Jesus’ coming appears  increasingly unreal.

 

One of the tasks of the gospel writers was to find ways to revive the sense of expectation, to confront the apparent complacency of believers and to recall them to their call. This is not, I suspect an attempt to force believers to live in fear, but to encourage them to  live ‘as if’ – as if Jesus were to return, as if Jesus might catch them unawares. It is not so much that the gospel writers desire that believers should live in terror – always wondering if they could meet the standard expected – but more that they are encouraging those who follow Christ to strive to live in such a ways that they would not be ashamed were Jesus to appear in the next minute, the next hour, the next day.

 

The gospel for this morning provides both reminders and incentive.  “Keep awake! For you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.” Life may appear to be going on as it always has – eating and drinking, working in the field, grinding grain, but the simple and mundane things of everyday life should not be allowed to make us complacent. It is not so much that daily life does not continue – of course it does. Nor is it a matter of being always on the edge – worried that Jesus will come and find us wanting. It is a reminder that no matter when Jesus might come it is important that we are not caught sleeping.

 

That does not  mean that we have live in fear, constantly worried about being caught out. Fear is a poor motivation. It sees only judgement and punishment; not welcome and joy. Fear does not lead to growth, it leads us to play it safe, to behave in ways that we believe will please, to become rule bound and rigid – believing that there are ways to be and ways not to be. Fear tempts us to hide our flaws instead of accepting and facing them honestly. Worse, living in fear does not provide the basis for a healthy, and real relationship with God. Fear leaves us anxious and self-conscious, unable to trust in ourselves and in God’s abundant love and forgiveness, and failing to engage with the deep and difficult work of allowing Jesus  to transform our lives, so that we are being formed in the image of Christ.

 

In practical terms then, ‘being ready’ living in a state of expectation means that at all times we are to strive to live our best life, to detach ourselves from the passions and desires of this world,  and to draw ever closer to the God who gave everything for us that in turn we might give our all for God.

 

This Advent, and every Advent is an opportunity to re-examine our lives and to ask ourselves: “Were Christ to come tomorrow, would we want to cling to the things of this world or would we be ready to let go and excited to experience something new? Would we be happy to go out in joy to greet him, or would we want to hide ourselves in shame? Would we have learnt to be comfortable in God’s love or would we still feel we needed to put on a front?”

 

Are you ready and if not, what would it take?

 


[1] I have been surprised therefore, to be hearing the message again now that I am in the UK.

A powerless God

December 26, 2020

Christmas 1 – 2020

Luke 2:22-40

Marian Free

In the name of our upside-down God who defies our expectations. Amen.

I can’t imagine that there is anyone for whom 2020 has turned out the way that they expected. Among our acquaintances there are at least six people who had made plans to celebrate their 60th birthdays in style only to have them overturned. One friend planned a cruise and had thought she’d be in Monte Carlo for her birthday. Instead, having spent two weeks off the coast of Perth on board the cruise liner, s celebrated turning 60 while in hotel quarantine. 

No one, even in their wildest dreams, could have imagined a year like this in which plans have been 

thwarted, career trajectories halted or even over-turned, and families separated for months at a time. Who could have envisaged silent airports, empty supermarket shelves, and more sanitiser than we’d ever have thought possible? Turning away families from aged care and hospitals would have been unthinkable a year ago and yet circumstances have dictated that in some places families have not been able to sit with the dying or to attend their funeral. In Queensland, we have been extraordinarily lucky and still our lives have been turned upside down by job losses, business closures and restrictions on who we can or cannot visit, where we can go and how we can worship.

For ten months we have lived in a topsy turvy world in which our expectations have been proven to be unrealistic and in which planning has been impossible. We have found ourselves to be at the mercy of a virus over which we have had no control.

Not having control might be a novel experience for us, but for many it is a state of life – for those living in war zones, for refugees, those living below the poverty line and those who livelihoods are at the mercy of the weather.

It is human to long for certainty, to hope that things will improve, to believe that there is a God who turn the situation around. 

This longing is a characteristic of the prophetic books of the Old Testament, many of which were written during Israel’s time in exile. The Israelites yearn to return to their own land, to the way that things used to be and to having control over their destiny. 

At the turn of the millennia, the time of Jesus, the Israelites are in the home country, but they have been under the dominion of foreign powers for centuries. Once again, they are vulnerable to the whims of another nation. They looked forward to a redeemer (the one promised by the prophets) to restore of the nation to its former glory – the Roman colonists defeated, Temple worship reestablished under the historic priesthood, the land fruitful and a descendant of David on the throne. 

How differently things turned out. God’s redeemer did come among them, but in such a way that he was largely unnoticed and was completely unrecognisable. in fact, Jesus appearance was the reverse of everything that they had come to expect! There were no flashes of lightening, no violent upheavals of the heavens or of earth, no obvious trappings of authority  – just the whimper of a child in an insignificant town, a human infant, not an omnipotent being, a powerless son of a carpenter not a member of a ruling family

No matter how many times one reads Simeon’s speech and the account of Anna, the language jars. 

We would expect Simeon to say: “the rising and the fall” of many and to read that Anna prayed: “day and night” in the Temple. Those would be the usual figures of speech. What Simeon does say is “the fall and the raising” and Anna is said to pray “night and day”. This reversal of what we expect to hear turns out to be a sign what is to come. Jesus may be the “salvation prepared in sight of all peoples” and a “light to the Gentiles” but his life will play out in a very different way. He will be opposed instead of being welcomed. Instead of restoring the institutions of Israel, Jesus will be perceived to be undermining them. Rather than supporting and affirming those in positions of authority, Jesus will expose their hypocrisy and self-centredness and, as a consequence his life will be demanded of him. 

Despite the longings and hopes of the Israelites, Jesus will not be an interventionist Saviour. He will not lead armies or expel the Romans. He will not bring down the corrupt priests who rule the Temple and control the Sanhedrin nor will he denounce tax-collectors, prostitutes and other sinners. From the start he will be a disappointment and he will fall before there is any rising as Simeon predicts. There will be suffering not triumph. Jesus will serve not govern and those with most to lose will seek to destroy him.

“Fall and rising”, “night and day” – the unusual phraseology of this passage alerts us to the fact that this story is not going to go the way we expected. From the beginning to the end of Jesus’ life, our upside-down God confounds, confronts and challenges expectations. Jesus does not, in any way, conform to the image of one who was to redeem Israel. He has not come to judge – not even the Romans and the collaborators. He is anything but powerful and influential and he undermines rather than upholds the religious establishment.

God, in Jesus is utterly at the service of the poor and the marginalised. God in Jesus models how to bring about change and transformation in others. God in Jesus is vulnerable to the fears and desires of those who do not want anything to stand between them and their craving for status and power. 

In fact, Jesus’ life (and death) is a stark reminder that God is powerless against human greed, ambition and selfishness. 

If the world is to change, we have to change. We have to cede our need for control, our desire for power and our yearning for material things. We have to acknowledge our own complicity in and responsibility for the inequities and injustices of this world and with Jesus align ourselves to the powerless, the vulnerable and marginalised. We must fall before we rise, experience night before day and, in immersing ourselves in the suffering of the world find the power that leads to the transformation of the world.

Will the real king stand up?

November 23, 2019

The Reign of Christ – 2019

Luke 23:33-43

Marian Free

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

 I imagine that even the royalists among you have been disturbed by the recent BBC interview with Prince Andrew who, in the process, revealed himself as self-centered, thoughtless and completely out of touch with the values of today’s world. This is not the first time that members of the Royal family have demonstrated that at times they are completely removed from the real world. Remember when Princess Diana died. The Queen it seems believed that as an ex-mother-in-law that it was inappropriate for her to have a part in the public outpouring of grief, but in fact, she (or her advisors) had completely misjudged public expectation and by keeping her distance, appeared as unfeeling and aloof. News media and social media as well as a growing distrust in our institutions, mean that in our times members of the Royal family can be scrutinized by all and sundry. Whereas there may have been a time when they could be protected by their position, the palace walls and by their minders, today their behavior – good and bad – is on display and open to critique.

We live in a time in which the public awareness of the damage caused by abusive sexual and other relationships has risen. The public are less inclined to turn a blind eye to the inappropriate behaviour of the rich and famous – particularly when that behaviour is exploitative or abusive. Our attitudes have changed dramatically in the last few decades and our expectations of public figures has risen. In today’s world even sporting stars are not only held to account for their behaviour off the field, but also to be a model of behaviour that their fans can emulate. Likewise the once powerful figures in the film industry have been called to account and those who once turned a blind eye to exploitative behaviour and the misuse of power are now more likely to call them to account.

Whether it is a consequence of his wealth, his position or his privilege, the BBC interview exposed Prince Andrew as having at best a lack of awareness and at worst a lack of regard for the well-being of those who do not share his social status. He may “regret his friendship with Epstein”, but his continued association with that man after he had been convicted of sex-trafficking shows a blatant disregard and a failure to grasp the suffering of people who are exploited and abused.

How different from Jesus who, as Son of God, could have made many demands on his contemporaries – rich and poor alike – but who took no advantage of the power that was his, but instead put himself at the service of others. This, despite the fact that Herod was keen to know him and I am sure that many others among the rich and powerful would have been delighted to count him among their friends. Jesus, however, chose to relinquish any privilege or influence that he could have exercised. Jesus did not live in isolation from the harsh realities of the world, but immersed himself fully in the lives of the poor and the vulnerable, the exploited and the abused. What is more rather than associate himself with the rich and powerful, of with those who took advantage of or turned a blind eye to the suffering of the weak and friendless, he confronted their heartlessness and alienated himself from those who had the power to protect him.

Jesus’ first century followers did not attach themselves to Jesus because he had power and privilege and they did not follow him because he could in some way advantage them or improve their status. He had none of the external indications of authority. He did not live in a palace. He did not have command of servants or soldiers and nor did he have wealth with which to buy allegiance from those less powerful than himself. Jesus had no obvious external authority. All that he had was himself and his confidence that he was doing God’s will. Despite this people were drawn to him – not through any use (or abuse) or power but through his wisdom, his compassion and his understanding. It was his own personal characteristics that made him a leader of people, that led them to recognize him as king.

It was not Jesus’ given authority that disturbed the Jewish and Roman leaders but his innate authority that drew the crowds to him and that therefore threatened their own hold on power and their ability to control and manipulate the crowds. This man – by all accounts a peasant from Galilee – presented a real and immediate danger to the powers and authorities. When the religious leaders failed to unseat his influence or to expose his ignorance through argument they were reduced to the use of force. If they could not discredit him in debate, they would make a public spectacle of him in the religious and civic courts and ultimately, through the degrading and painful death by crucifixion. By debasing and disarming Jesus, they would, they thought demonstrate their own power and reclaim their influence over the people.

The taunts and mockery by the soldiers, by the religious leaders and even by one of the criminals were intended to humiliate Jesus and to expose his presumption before the people: “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself” “let him save himself if he is the anointed one”! The sign over the cross completed the picture – The King of the Jews would not be hanging on the cross dying like a common criminal. By all accounts Jesus’ power has been neutralized.

Rome, assisted by Jerusalem, had done all that they could to strip Jesus of his own power and influence. Yet their attempts to shame and embarrass Jesus backfired. Their taunts, rather than diminish Jesus unwittingly revealed the truth and reinforced the power and authority that came from no external force – King – but not of this world. One of the criminals crucified with him articulates this when he says: “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

Jesus, whose kingdom is not of this world, demonstrated that true leadership is that which aligns itself with those whom one is called to lead, that lifts up and does not crush the vulnerable and which wins the loyalty and allegiance of the people, through wisdom, compassion and understanding.

 

Not up to our expectations?

July 8, 2017

Pentecost 5 -2017

Matthew 11:15-19, 25-30

Marian Free

 In the name of God who defies and exceeds our expectations. Amen.

Some things just don’t live up to our expectations. For example, I found the musical: “Phantom of the Opera” truly disappointing. I had gone with high expectations, but the show left me feeling that something was lacking. “Les Miserables” on the other hand, has never failed to impress whether it be musical or not, stage or film.

The same is true of people. We build up a picture in our mind of someone we have never met, only to find when we meet them or come to know more about them our ideas were quite wrong. A week or so ago the TV programme Compass featured the controversial Anglican priest from Gosford. Rod Bower is known for the sign outside his church that sometimes makes it into

Example of Sign at Gosford Anglican Church

the national news and frequently features in my Facebook feeds. With no information other than Rod’s slogans, I had formed the idea that he had to be something of an extrovert. Compass began with a clip of him setting up the sign and clips of him leading and speaking at demonstrations – both of which suggested to me that he was happy to put himself out there, to engage with people and to be a public figure. However when the journalist interviewed him, he revealed himself to be intensely introverted – to the extent that he found joining parishioners for coffee after church difficult. In reality, Rod was the complete opposite of what I had expected.

It is human nature to create expectations about people and events. By and large we don’t like to be caught by surprise so we prepare ourselves. If we are traveling or attending an expensive show, we do a certain amount of research to ensure that our money is well spent and that we won’t be disappointed. If we are inviting a speaker to a conference we do a certain amount of background research to ensure that they will deliver. In the case of someone whom we have never met, we use the information to hand to create a picture in our imagination. If the person is very different from our expectations we might find ourselves either disappointed or pleasantly surprised.

Jesus found himself in a lose/lose situation. He did’t seem to fit any existing expectation. If he had behaved like John the Baptist – neither eating nor drinking – he would have been rejected as a “wowser” or a “party-pooper”. On the other hand, if he came eating and drinking, he would have been accused of being a party-animal or libertine. At this distance, we have no really clear idea what the first century Judeans expected of one sent by God. Some, it appears, thought that John the Baptist really did fit the bill. He was an ascetic, a prophet who challenged the status quo. People flocked to hear him and to be baptised by him, but the establishment who found both his message and his life-style too confronting did not accept him. Jesus on the other hand appeared to be too ordinary, too much “one of the people” to be the “holy one of God”. It is not that he couldn’t please some, Jesus felt as though he couldn’t please anyone.

Even though Paul and our gospel writers have done a great job of combing through the Old Testament looking for texts that demonstrate that Jesus does conform to the expectations of the anointed of God, their efforts demonstrate never-the-less that it is impossible to find an exact fit for Jesus. Nowhere in the Old Testament does it say explicitly what the people of Israel should be looking for. In fact, some of the expectations contradict each other – the suffering Servant of Isaiah for example, is the opposite of a king of the line of David. As a result of the confusion, by the beginning of the first century there were a variety of expectations. These are evident in the Dead Sea Scrolls or other inter-testamental writings. People variously thought that God might send a king or a prophet or a priest or perhaps that Elijah would return to save the people. Even so, given their rejection of Jesus, it does seem that above all the people of Judah expected a king or at least a soldier – someone who would free them from the foreign oppressors – the Romans.

Despite what our gospels imply, there was at that time no one, fixed, expectation of the “one who was to come”. It was no wonder that Jesus was not universally accepted as the Christ, no wonder that the crowds found it so easy to turn against him when it seemed that it was all going sour.

Jesus simply didn’t fit. He was not a king, or a soldier or a priest. He was not convincing enough to gain the approval of the leaders of the faith and as a result was ultimately unable to maintain the loyalty of the ordinary citizens.

I am sometimes asked: “Why didn’t the Jews believe that Jesus was the Messiah?” The answer lies in today’s gospel – Jesus was not what they expected him to be. Despite everything – his teaching, the healings, the miracles – Jesus did not live up to their expectations or their hopes. He didn’t gather the nation together as a united front against Rome, against the Gentiles, against the hypocritical leaders or even against those who failed to keep the law in its entirety. As a Messiah Jesus was nothing short of disappointing and, to cap it off, his mission ended with his ignominious death.

Expectations – we all have them. What if our expectations of Jesus are the wrong ones? Would we do any better than the first century Jews if Jesus were to come again today or tomorrow?

Our task is to let go of our expectations and to develop a sense of openness to whatever God might do next, whenever and wherever that may be.

 

 

 

 

Why don’t they just ask?

September 19, 2015

Pentecost 17 – 2015

Mark 9:30-37

Marian Free

 In the name of God who withholds nothing and who reveals Godself to those who seek. Amen.

“Why didn’t you just ask?” These are the words that are uttered by an exasperated parent or frustrated teacher when confronted with a child or student who has misunderstood what was required, done something foolish or embarked on the wrong exercise. If only they had asked for clarity, they might not have got themselves into such a muddle or headed off in the wrong direction. There are a number of reasons why people do not ask for clarity, for direction or for permission. Some people are afraid that asking a question will expose their ignorance or foolishness. Others are ashamed to admit that they do not understand and still others assume that they have understood what is required and so there is no need to ask. The problem is that a failure to ask can have disastrous consequences. People end up going off at a tangent – either tentatively because they do not understand or confidently because they are so sure that they have got it right that they don’t need to ask. It is only when things go awry, when it clear that they are lost, doing the wrong exercise or using the wrong tools that such people wish that they had asked.

The situation can be even worse with relationships. One person in the relationship may draw the wrong conclusion or inference from what the other has said or done. As a result the relationship may be damaged or, in the worst case scenarios, the person who has misunderstood may becomes bitter or trapped into a way of thinking and behaving that prevents them from growing and maturing. Think for example of the child who perceives a parent’s reserve as a lack of affection and who carries that perception around like a stone only to discover that they were wrong all the time. “Why didn’t you ask?” Is the cry of the anguished parent or the misjudged person – I would have told you: that you were loved; that I was proud of you; that you never disappointed me. “I would have told you.” “You need not have been afraid.”

“Why didn’t you just ask?” could have been Jesus’ question to his disciples. For the second time now Jesus has told the disciples that he will be betrayed and killed and on the third day will rise again. The idea that their leader and teacher should be put to death is so foreign to the disciples that they simply cannot come to terms with it. The first time Jesus announced his death, Peter rebuked him and was in his turn roundly rebuked by Jesus. Perhaps it is no wonder that the disciples are now afraid to ask Jesus what he means. Not only do they not wish to look foolish, they might also be a little afraid of Jesus’ frustration.

So the disciples react in the way many of us do when we do not understand, they change the subject. Instead of asking Jesus what he means, instead of trying to grapple with what Jesus is saying, instead of trying to understand what sort of Christ this might be, they turn to something familiar: who among them is the greatest? Here they are on solid ground. In first century society honour and shame determined a person’s place in the world. Honour had to be won and shame avoided.

Faced with something utterly beyond their comprehension, the disciples turn to a familiar argument – who, in their little group, has the highest status? By focusing on something they do understand reveal not only their failure to grasp what Jesus had just said to them but their complete misunderstanding of what he is about.

Jesus doesn’t respond by saying: “Why didn’t you ask!” Nor does he express his exasperation by rebuking the disciples. This time he takes a different approach. If the disciples don’t understand what he says, perhaps they will comprehend an action that illustrates what he is trying to tell them. That is that honour and status have no place among those who follow a Christ such as he who is destined to suffer and to die. So he sits down and says: “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and the servant of all.” Then he places a child in the midst of them before taking it in his arms and saying: “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.”

Later Jesus will use a child to demonstrate the innocence and simplicity required of those who would enter the kingdom, but here his purpose is quite different. In the first century worlds of both Palestine and of Rome, the place of children was complex. On the one hand they had value as those on whom the future depended, on the other they presented a liability, as they had to be nurtured and protected and yet they contributed nothing to the household. An adult slave was a more productive member of the household than a child. At the same time a child had no legal status or power and therefore could not bestow honour or status on those who welcomed them. (A child was not worth the time or effort of someone’s attention, as they could give nothing in return.)

By insisting that a child be welcomed and respected, Jesus subverted the social conventions of his time and illustrated more clearly than words are able that discipleship contradicts the norms of society and that Jesus’ leadership turns on its head everything the disciples thought they knew and understood. Those who follow him will have to stand outside the culture and renounce the values honour and shame. True greatness, Jesus suggests, cannot be achieved by serving only those who can give you something in return, rather it lies in welcoming those who can give nothing – the disabled, the poor, the unclean, the widow, the child anyone who is considered an outsider, anyone who has no status at all.

What the disciples have yet to grasp is that Jesus’ leadership is completely counter-cultural, it does not and will not conform to known categories, but will continue to contradict and to subvert their expectations and their view of the world and will demand the same of them.

Jesus continues to subvert and confound our expectations. He refuses to be categorized. He will not be tied down to societal norms. He breaks the rules and relates to the wrong people. His behaviour shocks and unsettles. We like the disciples continue to be confused and disconcerted. We try to fit Jesus into known categories, to confine him to the limits of our expectations, to force him to be conventional. In our efforts to understand we may follow many false leads and wander off on our own paths.

If only we could admit our ignorance. If only we would ask. If only we would search the scriptures for answers, open our hearts to the Spirit who knows what God has yet to reveal to us?