Posts Tagged ‘Jerusalem’

Authority that emanates from within

September 26, 2020

Pentecost 17 – 2020

Matthew 21:21-32

Marian Free

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

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

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

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

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

What happens is just the opposite.

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

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

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

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


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

A matter of love

March 19, 2016

Palm Sunday – 2016

Luke 22: -23:

Marian Free

 

A matter of love

May God whose love for us knows no bounds, free us from all those things that prevent us from accepting that love. Amen.

Love is an extraordinary motivator. It can enable people to go to extraordinary lengths to make a difference for those whom they love. Parents of children with severe handicaps invest hours of their time and all their financial resources to not only ensure that their child has the best quality of life that is possible, but also to defy the medical staff who have advised them that the child has no future. Siblings of cancer sufferers cycle around Australia or complete other such feats to raise awareness of the disease and raise funds for research. Husbands or wives refuse to turn off life support machines, believing that the one whom they love has a future.

The love and determination of a spouse means not only the difference between life and death, but also the difference between simply being alive and having some quality of life.  Only last week I read the account of a young woman Danielle. At just 23[1] Danielle had married the love of her life. Only months later her husband, Matt he seriously injured in a cycling accident. As well as numerous fractures, he had sustained a serious traumatic brain injury. A team of doctors advised Danielle to turn off his life support.

Danielle trusted the doctors and thought she would agree to end Matt’s life. After a sleepless night she thought: “Matt is my husband. If he stays in a coma, of if he needs looking after for the rest of his life, I will be the one taking care of him.” Instead of conceding that the doctor’s were right, Danielle knew if a flash that she could do it. She felt that God was telling her to take a chance, that this was her path in life. Danielle was not going to let Matt die. That was 2011. What followed was a battle to bring Matt out of the coma, battles with the medical staff who wanted to put him into a nursing home and twenty four hour care, once she got him to her mother’s home. Caring for Matt meant changing nappies, checking feeding tubes, giving sponge baths, administering up to 20 different medications, turning Matt every two hours and single handedly doing all the physical therapy that was required.

Danielle’s journey is a long way from over and Matt may never be the same, but he sings to Danielle and writes her poems and tells her every day that he loves her.

As is the case with Danielle, the cost of love is often enormous – emotionally, financially and in terms of the time that is involved. Yet the lover (parent, sibling, friend) thinks nothing of that, only of ensuring that their beloved is loved and cared for, has the best life that is possible in the circumstances and that they know that they have not been abandoned.

This Lent, it has seemed to me that the readings have focused on love – God’s boundless, unconditional love for all of humanity. We have seen that God reaches out for us in love, refusing to give up on us no matter how much we disappoint, frustrate and even enrage God.  God does not/cannot stop loving even when we blindly go our own way, when we put up barriers between ourselves and God’s love or when we behave in ways that are damaging to ourselves or to others. God’s love for us is a love that never gives up, no matter how broken or beyond repair we might be and it is a love that never counts the cost.

Today and throughout this week, we will witness God’s love played out in Jesus’ journey to the cross. We cannot know what was going through Jesus’ head when he set out for Jerusalem or when he incurred the wrath of the Jewish leaders by entering the city as a King, by challenging their views and by being high-handed in the Temple. What we do know is that at any point Jesus could have turned back. At any point, Jesus could have decided that it was all too hard and simply given up. At any point, Jesus could have chosen to do what was right for him, rather than what might be right for others.

But as relentlessly as the forces of evil lined up against him, Jesus doggedly continued on the path that was before him, the path that would ensure death for him and life for the world.

This is the ultimate demonstration of God’s love for us – God, in Jesus entering our world and pouring out love and compassion on an ungrateful world. God demonstrates God’s love for us in Jesus’ giving himself completely to and for us – doing whatever it would take to enable us to live our lives as fully as we possibly can.

God cannot and will not stop loving us. It remains for us to accept that we are loved and to discover that it is only by surrendering to God’s love that we will find fulfillment, freedom and peace. It remains for us to abandon ourselves to God and to thereby see that it is only in God we have all that we want or need.

[1] Reported in the latest Marie Claire Australia magazine (April 16, 2016, p104-106).

Wadi Qelt – a certain man (Luke 10:30)

July 4, 2015

I confess that this week Saturday has crept up on me so that with or without Internet, I have not thought of this reflective piece. The dig at Bethsaida was so all-consuming and tiring that time has simply sped past. It has been amazing to be by the Sea of Galilee for two weeks and to try to get some sense of the history, to wonder about what it was all like some two thousand years ago. The Lake has many moods changing with the light and the breeze. A particular treat was to see a boat from the first century which had been hidden in the mud and which has now been restored.

Today we have driven to Jerusalem through the Negev – a barren, uninviting desert. Along the way we stopped at Wadi Qelt, the ancient route from Jerusalem to Jericho. You can see from the photo how inhospitable it is and you can imagine that Jesus got the attention of his listeners as soon as he mentioned that a man was taking that route and doing so alone. Not only was the area full of brigands, but the very nature of the land is forbidding. To take the journey without the protection of a caravan would have been to be taking his life into his hands.

Jesus is a consummate story-teller. First he grabs the attention of his audience, in this case by choosing a character who is doing something outrageous, then he uses the classic technique of using three characters. (This is well known to many of us in the way that jokes are told – there were three priests, a Catholic, an Anglican and a Lutheran and so on.) Once he has established the scene Jesus doesn’t need to explain why the other travelers are on the road. The audience know that it is a story.

Of course we know the story so well that we are no longer surprised that the man takes the route alone, nor are we surprised that the Samaritan stops to help. In fact the expression “the Good Samaritan” has passed inot common usage and many people today would not know the origin of the expression. What is lost on many of today’s readers is how shocking it would have been for a Samariton to stop and offer assistance to a Jew and that the Jew may not have been particularly grateful for that help. Such was the enmity between the two groups that Jews would walk the long way to Jerusalem so as to avoid going through the region of Samaria. Both groups claimed to be the true faith and Jews considered Samaritans to be ritualy unclean, presumably because they did not observe the same purity laws.

As I said, Jesus crafts a great story. By using the same language for both the priest and the Levite, he creates a certain expectation in the minds of the listeners. The priest/Levite is “going down”, “he saw him”, “he passed by on the other side”. Jesus’ audience are expecting the pattern to continue, but they have gone ahead believing that they know how the story will end. They imagine that Jesus will continue: “a Jew (ie someone like themselves), was going down, he saw him and he stopped to help.” In their imagination, it is they who will be the hero of the story. After all the priest and Levite have simply behaved in a way that could have been expected of them, but they, the people would surely show compassion.

Jesus takes the ground from under their feet. The hero is not one of their own, but a despised Samaritan. Now they are really listening. There is, in their mind, no such thing as a “good” Samaritan. But this of course, is exactly Jesus’ point. By categorizing and judging others, by expecting them to behave in a particular way we are limiting ourselves and determining who is and who is not our neighbour.

The question of the lawyer is not really answered. What Jesus does though is to expose the prejudices that most of us hold. So long as we fail to see and recognise the good in those whom we fear or distrust, we are unable to love our neighbour as ourself. It is not a problem to care for those in need, but that is not the meaning of the parable. The shocking reality that Jesus exposes here is that a Samaritan can be good and that our values no preconceptions mean that we fail to see the goodness in others.

Whom do we despise or fear. Can we allow this parable to challenge our preconceptions and open us to the challenging idea that those who cause us anxiety may in fact be those who are most willing to show us love and compassion?

Breaking down the barriers

March 7, 2015

Lent 3 -2015
John 2:13-21
Marian Free

In the name of God, whom we access through Jesus – not through buildings or rituals. Amen.

John 2:13 The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. He told those who were selling the doves, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” The Jews then said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” The Jews then said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?” But he was speaking of the temple of his body.

I wonder what, if anything, surprised you in today’s gospel? For myself, three things are immediately obvious. The first is that Jesus’ cleansing of the Temple occurs at the beginning of his ministry; the second is that Jesus compares the Temple precincts to a marketplace and not to a “den of thieves” and the third is the reference to Jesus’ body as a temple. These stand out because they are not found in the other accounts of the same event. If you were to put John’s account of the cleansing of the Temple side by side with the accounts found in the other three gospels you would notice other significant differences in the retelling. These include Jesus making a whip of cords, pouring out the coins of the money-changers, the disciples’ remembering the Psalm (“zeal for your house”) and suggesting that if the Temple were destroyed, he Jesus, could raise it up in three days.

These distinctions are significant and important if we are to understand John’s gospel and the differences between John’s gospel and Matthew, Mark and Luke. Among other things, the Synoptic Gospels place the majority of Jesus’ ministry in Galilee. Jesus makes only one visit to Jerusalem and that is for less than a week – the week in which he dies. The author of John’s gospel suggests that there were three occasions on which Jesus visited Jerusalem and that his first visit – this one, occurred immediately after the wedding at Cana (which is in Galilee). Jesus performs the first of his signs – changing water into wine – and immediately makes the long trip to Jerusalem for the Passover.

According to John, Jesus goes to Jerusalem on several occasions during his ministry and he appears to spend a great deal of time there – more time there than in Galilee. The Synoptic gospels tell the story quite differently, Jesus visits only once and that just before his death. The differences in the accounts means that it is difficult to tell just how long Jesus’ public ministry was. Was it only one year as implied by the Synoptics, or was it three as implied in John’s account?

Of course each author retells the story in a different way according to the point they want to make. In the case of John’s gospel, one of the author’s intentions is to demonstrate that in his person, Jesus replaces the Temple, its festivals and its rituals. Through Jesus, in other words, John claims that believers have a direct access to God. There is no longer any need for an intermediary – whether that be the priests or the rituals associated with the Temple. In Jesus is all that a believer needs for healing, rest, and life-giving sustenance. This is most evident in what we know as the “I am” statements some of which occur specifically in the context of the Jewish festivals. When Jesus says: “I am the light of the world”, “I am the living water”, “I am the bread of life”, he is implying that in his person he represents the symbols of the cult. As the light of the world, Jesus makes Hanukkah redundant, as the bread of life he implies that he replaces the Passover festival and as the water of life, he becomes the primary symbol associated with the Feast of the Tabernacles.

All of this goes to explain why the author of John’s gospel places Jesus’ clearing of the Temple at the very beginning of Jesus ministry. It sets the scene for what is to come. In other words, John is using this event in Jesus’ life to introduce the idea that Jesus replaces the Temple and all that it represents. This theme is not unique to John, but is found, albeit in a very different way in the Book of Hebrews, which is much more explicit about Jesus’ replacement of the Temple, the priesthood and the sanctuary as the primary means by which believers access or enter into relationship with God.

To us this all seems self-evident – it is a theme with which we have lived our whole lives. It is important to remember that John is writing in a completely different context – one in which the Temple had played a role for centuries and in which there were temples were central to the worship of the vast array of Greek and Roman gods. Worshipping a god without a Temple was almost inconceivable if for no other resaon than that there needed to be somewhere to offer sacrifices.

John is writing at the end of the first century. At the time Jerusalem (and therefore the Temple) had been destroyed – the focus of the Jewish cult no longer existed. Even had it survived, those who believed in Jesus would not have been welcome because they had not supported the Jews in the uprising against Rome If the Temple no longer existed, it would have raised the questions: Where and how might the cult be practiced if there is no longer a Temple, no longer a Holy of Holies? If there was no longer a Temple how and where would believers express their relationship with God? Without the Temple how could the people communicate with God.

John’s gospel provides the answer – all these things are possible in and through Jesus. The Temple is no longer necessary. Through Jesus believers have direct access to God. They do not need cult or ritual to express their relationship with or to communicate with God. Everything that the Temple cult had provided – reconciliation with God, purity rituals, opportunities to give thanks to God and so on – is now to be found in and expressed through the person of Jesus. This is the point that John is making in his retelling of the “cleansing of the Temple”. Jesus claims that should the Temple itself be destroyed, he could raise it up – not in the 46 years it had taken Herod to bring it to its current state, but in just three days. This is an extraordinary claim. It would be impossible to rebuild the bricks and mortar of the building, but as John explains for the benefits of his readers, Jesus is not referring to the physical Temple, but to himself. Through his death and resurrection, Jesus will become the means of communication with God. All that the Temple has been, all the functions that the Temple has served, will be available through faith in Jesus. If there is a need for a Temple, Jesus is that Temple.

It is important to understand that the Church is not a substitute for the Temple, that the clergy are not intermediaries between the faithful and God, that our rites and rituals might express our faith but they do not stand between God and us. Thanks to Jesus, the relationship between each individual and God is direct and immediate. Those who believe in Jesus don’t need someone else to pray for on their behalf, to ask forgiveness on their behalf or to offer sacrifices on their behalf. No one needs another person to act as God’s interpreter because God is accessible to each and every one of us.

God has broken all the barriers, between himself and humankind. Such barriers as there are of our own making and our own design.

God loves the world?

March 15, 2014

Titus' arch

Titus’ arch

Lent 2. 2014

John 3:1-17 (Genesis 12:1-4a; Romans 4:1-17)

Marian Free

In the name of God whose love embraces a world torn apart by violence, hatred, fear and greed. Amen.

During the week I came across a graphic description of the siege of Jerusalem in 70 CE. The author, Reza Aslan imaginatively recreates the turmoil and unrest of first century Palestine, the various revolts by “bandits” against the Roman rulers and how finally this ferment boiled over in the centre of the Hebrew faith – Jerusalem[1]. Aslan records the failure of successive Roman governors, the discontent of the people, the uprisings, the factions and the focus on Jerusalem and the Temple. Then he goes on to describe the callous ruthlessness of the Roman reaction.

When the Israelites expelled the Romans from Jerusalem, Vespasian was sent to quell the rebellion and restore order. Approaching Jerusalem from north and south, Vespasian and his son Titus retook control of all but Judea. In 68 CE Vespasian was distracted by the death of Nero and his ambition to fill that role. He abandoned the battle and returned to Rome where he was declared Emperor. The people of Rome were restless and Vespasian realized that he needed a decisive victory (or Triumph) to consolidate his hold on the office and to demonstrate his authority over the whole of the Roman Empire.

The revolt in Palestine provided the perfect scenario to show of what he was made. Vespasian decided not only restore order and reclaim authority in the nation, but to utterly destroy it – its people and, more particularly its God. To this end Vespasian dispatched his son Titus to bring the Hebrews to their knees. Titus set siege to Jerusalem, cut off the water supply and ensured that no one could go in or out. Those who did escape, he crucified in full view of the city. Slowly the people starved to death. They ate grass and cow dung and chewed the leather from their belts and shoes. Soon the dead were piled high in the streets, as there was nowhere to bury them. Titus needed nothing more for victory, but his task was to annihilate the people completely. His troops stormed the city, slaying men, women and children and burning the city to the ground so nothing remained[2].

The world doesn’t change. The situation of those imprisoned in Jerusalem in 70 CE is not too different from that of those in many parts of Syria in 2014. The city of Homs has been under siege for two years now. Its inhabitants – men, women and children – have lived on grass boiled in water and killed cats for food. Schools are shut, only one hospital remains open and there is no electricity or running water. Those who emerged during the recent cease-fire were gaunt and hollow-cheeked, often caked with dirt. No one has been excluded from the horror, not the elderly, the disabled or the very young.

Syria is perhaps the most graphic example of a world gone wrong, of the way in which human beings can inflict the most horrific suffering on their brothers and sisters and of the way in which our primal fears can boil over into violence and destruction. As the world waits with bated breath to see what will be the outcome of the strife in the Ukraine, we cannot overlook the fact that Syria and the Ukraine are not isolated situations but are the face of a world in crisis – a world which reveals the very worst that humankind can be. Even to begin to list the nations at war or in the grip of civil strife would take too long. What is more, our minds simply cannot encompass the scale of suffering on a global scale. War and civil strife are just one example of a world that bears no hint of a good creator God. When we add to that human trafficking, extreme poverty, corrupt or ineffectual government, we could be tempted to ask: “Is this the world that God loves so much that he sent his Son?”

The answer is of course a resounding “yes”!

Today’s readings remind us that God’s love is not restricted to a privileged few or to those parts of the world that are free from strife and turmoil. God’s love reaches out to include the whole world.

The biblical story of God’s inclusive love begins in Genesis with Abraham and Sarah (12:1-4a). When God calls Abraham, God’s intention is clear – it is to make Abraham the Father of many nations – “in you all the families of the world will be blessed”. Initially it appears that through Abraham, God has chosen a select group of people for Godself. Certainly that is how the story plays out for centuries. All the while though there are constant hints that God’s love extends farther and embraces those who do not belong to the family of Abraham. Consider the following for example. Rahab was an outsider, yet it was she who enabled the victory at Jericho and facilitated entry into the Promised Land. Ruth, the forebear of Jesus was not a member of the Hebrew nation. God relented and saved the Gentiles city of Nineveh (despite Jonah’s objection) and the Psalmist tells us that all nations will flock to Jerusalem. Even Cyrus the King of Babylon is called God’s “anointed”. It is clear that God’s love and attention was not focused on the children of Abraham alone.

Paul picks up on this theme in both the letter to the Romans (4:1-17) and the letter to the Galatians (3:3-9). It was, he informs his readers, always God’s intention to include all people within the ambit of God’s love. No one is privileged in God’s eyes, all are equally worthy of God’s loving attention. “God is the father of all of us (Rom 4:16).”

It comes as no surprise then to read the familiar words of John 3:16 “God so loved the world that he sent his only Son”.

God’s love in not (and never was) restricted to a limited few, to those who belong to a particular group or to those who behave in a certain prescribed way. God’s love doesn’t pick and choose and it certainly does not wait until the world is ready or worthy of that love. The Palestine to whom God sent his Son was far from an ideal microcosm of human existence – far from it. In the first century, the Hebrew people were compromised, conflicted and divided, their priests were, at best, servants of Rome and, at worst, men seeking wealth and aggrandizement. Despite all this, it was to such a broken and imperfect people that God chose to send his Son.

Nothing much has changed – the world that God loves continues to be a long way from perfect but that doesn’t stop God from loving. However unlikely it seems, however undeserving the world continues to be, God reaches out in love giving us the opportunity for salvation. What it takes is for us to respond, for us to choose light over darkness, salvation not destruction.

God so loves the world – how then should the world respond?


[1] Aslan, Reza, Zealot – the life and times of Jesus of Nazareth. New York: Random House, 2013, 60ff.

[2] Vespasian’s Triumph, the procession of slaves and spoils of war were immortalized in the arch which can still be seen in Rome today.

The world God loves.

Devastation in South Sudan

Devastation in South Sudan

Riots in Egypt in 2013

Riots in Egypt in 2013

Syrian refugees lining up for food Syrian refugees lining up for food

Destruction of HomsDestruction of Homs

Staying the course

June 29, 2013

Pentecost 6 – 2013

Luke 9:51-62

Marian Free 

In the name of God who asks nothing less than all that we are and all that we have. Amen.

When reading the gospels it is often important to see the pattern that is developing. Luke, like the other gospel writers, carefully crafts his account of Jesus’ life. Some stories are clustered together for maximum impact, the whole gospel is framed by Jerusalem and Jesus’ travels are recorded in such a way as to point the reader or listeners to certain conclusions.

Today’s gospel sets the scene for Jesus’ final journey to Jerusalem. Jesus undertakes this journey with a certain amount of foreboding, he is well aware that entering that city is filled with risk, that his very life is at stake. Luke builds the tension through the way he organises his story and by his use of language. The narrative leading up to this point includes Peter’s recognition of Jesus and Jesus’ prediction of his death and resurrection. “The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day he will rise” (9:22, 44).

The readers know then that the words “taken up” refer to the crucifixion and understand that Jesus is turning towards Jerusalem even though he knows the likely consequence. They will recognise that Jesus does not take this journey lightly. The language: “He set his face” makes this clear that for Jesus the decision to go to Jerusalem is an act of will, not a whim. Against his inclination to turn back, Jesus none the less resolves to complete his mission, to go to Jerusalem whatever the outcome might be.

Jesus’ courage and determination to finish what he started may well determine his responses to the three would-be disciples – not one of whom seems to recognise or share Jesus’ utmost commitment to the task ahead. The situation now is different from that when Jesus began his mission – when people like Peter and Andrew, left everything without a thought for the future. As Jesus nears the end of his journey and his time on earth, he realises that those who wish to follow him must understand the costs involved before they join him otherwise they will not last the distance.

At first glance, Jesus’ response to the three would-be disciples is harsh and uncompromising – not to mention ungrateful. However, he knows that what lies ahead for him (and for those who follow) will take great courage and fortitude – it is not for the faint-hearted or for those who will waver in the face of difficulty. Those who would be his disciples must “take up their cross, lose their life in order to follow.” (9:23ff). Discipleship is more than a grand adventure, more than healing and miracles and it will not lead to earthly glory or recognition. Following Jesus will require fortitude and commitment, a willingness to cope with difficult circumstances and an acceptance that discipleship might cause a re-alignment of loyalties. Discipleship is something that should only be undertaken if the would-be follower is determined to see it through to the end.

On the way to Jerusalem three different people engage with Jesus. Two say that they will follow him and the third is asked by Jesus to follow. Jesus’ response provides an idea of what he believes discipleship to entail. In the first instance someone offers to follow him wherever he may go. Instead of welcoming the offer Jesus responds that in fact he has nowhere to go. Following him means leaving behind all security, no longer belonging anywhere.

A second person when asked by Jesus to follow him, responds that first he would like to bury his father. Jesus’ reaction is not one of compassion as we might expect, but the rather cold: “Let the dead bury their own dead.” There can be no prevarication, no half-hearted measures. What lies ahead will demand the full attention and commitment of those who follow. They must be prepared to leave behind those things that would hold them back.

Finally, a third person says that he will follow Jesus – after he has said “good-bye” to those at home. Again we are surprised by Jesus’ response. Instead of commending the man, he implies that he implies that he does not have the steadfastness to complete what he begins. The journey of discipleship requires persistence. There is no point starting if one does not intend to finish, if one is always going to be looking back to what one left behind.

While it is true that these definitions of discipleship are contextual, it would not be true to draw the conclusion that they do not apply to us. Being a disciple of Jesus is not something that we can do with only part of us, not something to which we can commit only a portion of ourselves. We are followers of Jesus or we are not. It is not possible to be a partial follower. That being said, it is important to recognise that discipleship has consequences – it means accepting that there may be times when we feel that we do not fit in, that we cannot tie ourselves to the past and that those to whom we belong will be re-defined.

Jesus’ willingness to see the task through to the end led to the cross. Without the cross, there would have been no resurrection. He asks only that as followers we demonstrate the same commitment to the task at hand and the same willingness to follow it through to the end. If at times the cost seems more than we can bear, we need only to look to Jesus to be reminded that if  we stay the course, we will come out the other side richer, stronger and transformed into the likeness of Christ.

Contradiction

March 2, 2013

Lent 3 – 2013

Luke 13:31-35 (Isaiah 55:1-9, 1 Cor 10:1-13)

Marian Free

In the name of God who turns our expectations upside down, who challenges and comforts us and who never, ever withdraws God’s love. Amen.

When you read the Bible, what are the passages that stand out for you? Are you more alert for the voice of judgement or the voice of love? Do you look out for the rules that you must not break and the specific directions that you must follow, or do you instead seek out the promises of growth and new creation? From start to finish, the Bible is full of contradiction.  In it we find both censure and approval, judgement and forgiveness, punishment and redemption, restraint and extravagance.

The Old Testament prophets threaten the Israelites with all kinds of penalties if they refuse to return to God then, almost without taking breath, they assure the people that God will never abandon them. Side by side in Isaiah, Jeremiah and Hosea and elsewhere we have evidence of God’s frustration and confirmation of God’s faithfulness. The Gospels express similar contradictions. Calls to repent are balanced by stories of the lost being restored. Jesus’ attacks on the righteous throw into relief Jesus’ acceptance of those outside the law.

This morning’s readings are a case in point. The generosity and free-spirited invitation of Isaiah 55 stands in stark contrast with the harsh, judgmental and condemnatory sentiments of 1 Corinthians 10.

How are we to make sense of the paradox – judgement and repeal, condemnation and forgiveness, law and freedom? It is my belief that both sides of the coin are necessary to sustain healthy individuals, healthy societies and healthy religions. Freedom is essential for creative energy to thrive, for people to love and be loved, for compassion and generosity. None of these things can be forced or legislated. On the other hand, lawlessness leads to disintegration, violence and repression. Without some sort of law no one can achieve their full potential.

There needs to be some sort of balance between law and freedom.  It is not healthy to be completely unrestrained, but neither is it good to be so restrained that we forget how to live. If we fence ourselves in with rules, we reduce our ability to be spontaneous and carefree. Somewhere in the middle is an equilibrium, an ability to self-regulate, to use the rules and the threats of judgement to control our baser instincts and to trust in God’s goodness and mercy to liberate our finer, more selfless characteristics.

Interestingly, in the Bible, it is not disobedience or even the breaking of the Ten Commandments which is the source of God’s anger and the pre-condition for punishment. What causes the prophets to proclaim God’s judgement and Jesus to condemn the people of Israel is a breakdown in the relationship between the people and God.

God doesn’t expect perfection. That much is clear in God’s choice of Jacob the deceiver, God’s selection of Moses the murderer and God’s continued love for David the adulterer. That God is not looking for flawless followers is demonstrated by Jesus’ choice of disciples, Jesus’ readiness to forgive and Jesus’ easy acceptance of tax collectors and sinners.

It appears that the primary safeguard against condemnation is not so much to be law-abiding (though that is good), but to accept God’s invitation to be in relationship, to trust God’s offer of a covenant, to believe in God’s faithfulness to God’s promises.

Jesus weeps over Jerusalem, not because its citizens have failed to keep the law _ if nothing else, the Pharisees were assiduous keepers of the law.  Jesus weeps because the people of Jerusalem, the leaders of the Jews, have demonstrated their inability to put their trust in God. The Pharisees, Chief Priests and Scribes have put all their trust in the law and their ability to keep the law. They are so sure that they can achieve perfection by their own effort that they have effectively locked God out of their lives. They have so little confidence in God’s love and faithfulness that they are using the law to paper over their imperfections. They are so afraid that scrutiny will find them wanting that they kill the prophets who hold a mirror to them and to their lives. They cannot have a real relationship with God because they cannot have a real relationship with themselves.

No wonder Jesus weeps, he understands that the Jerusalemites are so sure that God cannot love them as they are, that they not only try to become what they are not, but worse, they shrink from God, they refuse God’s invitation and will not be drawn into God’s loving embrace.

How different they are from Zacchaeus who has the courage to respond to Jesus’ invitation and who finds that his life is transformed as a result. How different from the woman who anointed Jesus’ feet, who could take such a risk because instinctively she knew that she was loved and accepted. “Law-breakers” and outsiders who already knew and accepted their imperfections welcomed Jesus’ love and invitation, entered into a relationship and allowed themselves to be gathered under his wings.

Law and freedom together create a necessary life-giving tension in our relationship with God. An over-reliance on law can have the effect of locking God out of our lives whereas an over-emphasis on freedom can lead us to believe that we don’t need God. It is important to relish our freedom, but to understand its bounds, to trust in God’s unconditional love, but not to use that love as an excuse to be unloveable, to recognise that law has its place, but not to use it as a replacement for relationship.

God invites us into a relationship that is based on mutual trust and respect. God offers us an unconditional love that sets us free to be ourselves. To say “yes” to God, is to say “yes” to ourselves and to know ourselves welcome in the shadow of God’s wings.