Posts Tagged ‘Jesus’

Jesus’ baptism

January 6, 2024

Baptism of Jesus

Mark 1:4-11 (12-13)

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to give of ourselves. Amen.

Mark’s account of Jesus’ baptism is typically bald and lacking in detail. In fact, it raises more questions than it answers. 

For example: Why does Jesus seemingly appear out of nowhere? Why does he seek out John’s baptism? Is Jesus seeking to become a disciple of John? Does he, like John want to be a part of reforming the practice of Judaism? Has Jesus, at this point, any real understanding of who he is, and what his role is to be? 

Given the starkness and brevity of Mark’s introduction, it is no wonder that when Matthew and Luke penned their versions of events they felt a need to fill out the story with accounts of the lead up to Jesus’ birth, the birth itself and subsequent events. Their stories are filled out with genealogies, angels, shepherds, wise ones and so on. In different ways, both build up to the beginning of Jesus’ ministry and in so doing provide the readers with some background as to who this man Jesus might be. By the time we come to Jesus’ baptism in Luke and Matthew we have heard that he is – Emmanuel, Son of David, Son of God, the anointed one, King of the Jews. We know that he is to be called Jesus and that he will save his people from their sins. In other words, by the time Matthew and Luke come to reporting Jesus’ baptism, we already know a great deal about him. 

Mark however has no time for what came before. He is not interested in Jesus’ birth or childhood. He feels no need to establish Jesus’ lineage or miraculous origin. For him the beginning of the good news is not Jesus’ mysterious birth or the missing thirty years of his life, but his bursting on to the scene at the time of his baptism. 

Who Jesus is, and what his purpose in the world is, is announced not by an angel, but by John the Baptist, that wild, strange figure whom we met during Advent. John, so Mark briefly tells us, is the messenger predicted by Isaiah to “prepare the way in the wilderness”. We know little of John apart from what is recorded by gospels[1]. It is possible that he is representative of all those who thought that the present state of religion in Israel was in a dire state. The Pharisees, who sought a solution in the law. The writers of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Essenes) who took themselves into the wilderness on the shores of the Dead Sea and created a society based around ritual cleansing. John the Baptist seems to fit somewhere in the middle – through baptism he encouraged ritual cleansing and he demanded repentance as a means to restore the relationship between Israel and God.

In seeking out John and submitting to John’s baptism Jesus, is at the very least, indicating that he supports John’s preaching and ministry. Indeed, like John, Jesus begins his ministry by calling people to “repent”. The difference is that John demands repentance and points to Jesus and Jesus announces the good news and points to the coming of the kingdom.

None of this however explains why Jesus needs to be baptised for ‘the forgiveness of sins’.  

Was his baptism an affirmation of John, an indication of Jesus’ desire to fully identify with humanity in all its sinfulness, or was it “to fulfill all righteousness” (Mt 3:15)? Whatever the. reason, it is clear that Jesus’ baptism is a watershed moment. Until this point in his life Jesus had lived in obscurity and had done nothing remarkable. From now on he will preach the kingdom, confront the Pharisees, Sadducees, the elders and the scribes, he will challenge practices and teaching that binds rather than liberates and he will bring good news and healing to all those who are marginalised. 

Jesus may have sought baptism because he knew his trajectory and the task set before him. Or it may be that Jesus’ baptism confirmed and consolidated what, until that point, he had only suspected – that he was God’s anointed, sent into the world to bring the people back to God, and that he was integrally related, indeed a member of the Trinity.

This knowledge – unveiled by the tearing apart of the heavens, the descent of the Spirit and the voice from heaven (“you are my Son, the Beloved”) – is not a cause for triumphalism. We must read on to understand the impact of these events on Jesus whose response to the divine revelation is revealed as much in Jesus does not do, as it is through what he does do. What Jesus does not do, is to claim his Godly power and authority. What Jesus does not do is to go to the Temple and lord it over the priests and Sadducees. What Jesus does not do is to perform miracles that serve his own purposes. What Jesus does not do is to demand obeisance and subservience.

Instead, Jesus allows the Spirit to drive him into the wilderness where, presumably he confronts the temptation that comes from knowing who he really is. Then, he disappears into the relative anonymity that is Galilee. He chooses, not to go it alone, but to share his gifts and his ministry with others and he uses his authority, not for himself but to ease the burdens of others.

At his baptism, Jesus discovers that he has the world at his feet and  yet, knowing this, Jesus chooses not to lord it over the world, but to put himself at the disposal of the world. 


[1] Mandeans consider themselves disciples of John the Baptist, but so far as I can tell, that is where the connection ends.

Does Jesus need to be baptised??

January 7, 2017

The Baptism of Jesus – 2017

Matthew 3:13-17

Marian Free

 

In the name of God whose plan is, was and always will be to save the world.

Why does Jesus need to be baptised? Surely Jesus doesn’t need to be cleansed from sin. He doesn’t need to profess his faith. John certainly doesn’t think that Jesus needs to be baptised. It is important that we, with John ask the question? Why does Jesus need to be baptised? The problem is that it is easy for us to make assumptions based on the  idea that John’s baptism was like that which we received when in fact the two things are very different.

John’s baptism – that received by Jesus – was very different from the baptism that has grown up in the practice of the church. John was calling the people of Israel to repentance.  Baptism (the greek word simply means “wash”) was a sign that they were turning their backs on the way that had been living and were returning to God. John’s baptism was a baptism of repentance. It was not intended for individuals but for all of Israel. John was calling for the renewal of the Jewish people nation. He was NOT calling for people to repent of their own individual sins. John the Baptist was preparing the people as a whole for the coming of a Redeemer.

Baptism in the name of Jesus is, at the very least a post-resurrection event. It is form of initiation and a statement of faith. John’s baptism is not and cannot have been a baptism into the Christian faith.  Jesus had not even begun his public ministry and Jesus was, and remained a Jew.

What all this means is that when we consider Jesus’ baptism we have to see it as a stand-alone event and not as something that foreshadows the practice and doctrine of the Christian church. The baptism of Jesus is not baptism in the way that we think of baptism, but something entirely different.

All the gospel writers record this event, so we can state with some confidence that it has a basis in historical fact. Jesus was baptised and the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove descended on him. Matthew, Mark and Luke all report a voice coming from heaven (or from a cloud) that affirmed Jesus as God’s Son and indicated God’s pleasure in God’s son.

Of the accounts of Jesus’ baptism, Matthew’s is the longest. This is because he alone records John’s reluctance to baptise Jesus. “I need to be baptised by you and do you come to me?” he asks. John recognised that Jesus is the more powerful than he.  John thinks that Jesus should baptise him, not vice versa. Matthew apparently agrees with John that Jesus does not need to be baptised, so in order to understand what is happening, we have to examine how Matthew explains Jesus’ baptism.

According to Warren Carter we need to pay attention to four things in order to understand Matthew’s understood if we pay attention to four things: the context, John’s baptism, the conversation between John and Jesus and the voice from heaven[1].

The account of Jesus’ baptism occurs part way through chapter three in Matthew’s gospel. Jesus’ ministry is yet to begin. In fact it will not begin until mid-way through chapter four (after the temptations). Matthew has been setting the scene. Jesus’ baptism is one of the way in which Matthew establishes Jesus’ identity and demonstrates the way in which Jesus is a fulfilment of God’s promises. Matthew begins by establishing Jesus’ identity and the ways in which his early life is a fulfilment of scripture. Jesus is of the line of David, conceived by the Spirit to save the people from their sins. He is Emmanuel, “God with us”. His life is in danger because he is a threat to Herod. The leaders in Jerusalem ignore his birth and yet he is recognised and worshipped by foreigners. Through Joseph, God ensures that he is kept safe from harm and finally John the Baptist prepares the people for his coming.

Matthew has made is clear that Jesus has been sent by God. His baptism by John demonstrates that Jesus both understands and accepts his role and that he intends to be obedient to God’s plan for his life.

Only Matthew records the conversation between Jesus and John – John’s initial reluctance and Jesus’ insistence. Remember that John ‘s baptism is not about individuals, but about the nation of Israel. Jesus’ sinlessness is not in question, it is Jesus’ role as the “one who is more powerful” that causes John some anxiety.  Jesus’ response is mysterious. All it really tells us is that Jesus’ submission to John’s baptism is part of God’s plan for putting everything right – the plan that John has been announcing to the world. Just as other events in Jesus’ life so far have been to “fulfil” God’s plan, so too will Jesus’ baptism. It does not make immediate sense, just as Jesus’ death will not make sense. What is important for Matthew’s story is that God has a plan and that Jesus is determined to submit to that plan, to accept his commission from God.

After Jesus has convinced John that his baptism is not only right, but also divinely sanctioned John baptises Jesus. Then, as Jesus emerges from the water, God affirms both Jesus’ identity and his mission by opening the heavens, descending as a dove and declaring Jesus to be his son, the Beloved, with whom God is well pleased.

Through genealogy and story, affirmation and fear, Matthew has established Jesus as the one of David’s line who will fulfil God’s promise to bring salvation to Israel. Now that he has made it absolutely clear who and what Jesus is, Matthew can begin his record of Jesus’ teaching, teaching that he has proven can be heard and received with absolute confidence. Those who hear and those who read Matthew’s gospel know exactly who Jesus is, by whom he has been commissioned, and what role he is to play in the history of Israel.

As we travel together through the gospel according to Matthew this, we can be sure of this that Matthew believes that: Jesus has been sent by God, to fulfil God’s promises and to carry out God’s plan. What we read and hear can be trusted because it comes from God..

 

 

 

 

[1] For the original see http://workingpreacher.org

Join in the dance

July 5, 2014

 

Pentecost 4   2014

Matthew 11:15-19, 25-28

Marian Free

Loving God, open us to the movement of your Holy Spirit in and among us. Amen.

I am not a Roman Catholic, but I don’t think that I am speaking out of turn when I say that Pope Francis is a very different style of Pope. His refusal to live in the Papal apartments is just one indication that he will not be like his predecessors. Added to that, Francis is a Jesuit. The vows that he made when he was professed and the fact that he is accountable to his order will make a difference to the way he lives out his papacy. That he comes from South America means that social justice issues will be a primary focus and we will observe other differences because he does not come from a European background. He will not look or behave like any other Pope.

What should our leaders look like? What sort of person do we expect them to be? How should they go about their lives? How do we think that they should exercise their authority? Do we want them to be “heros” – people who will carry us along in their wake or do we hope that they will be more collegial – people who will walk together with us? Do we want leaders who are distinct from ourselves or those whose lives are more like ours?

I suspect that one of the reasons that many people like the monarchy is that the Royal family (while not leaders in a real political sense) is somehow elevated and mysterious, part of a world that we cannot even aspire to. The same is true of the American presidents. To be elected they must first have sufficient wealth to campaign, and after they are elected they live in the White House, which while not a palace, does inspire a certain amount of awe.

At the other end of the scale, Australia is, or has been, an egalitarian society. Our Queen lives oceans away and our Prime Minister has nothing of the stature of the President of the United States. In Australia we have a suspicion of success and while we might show some deference towards those whom we chose to lead us, the last thing that we will allow is for them to “get above themselves”.

So the question as to our expectations is complicated. It depends on the role the leader is called to play, the culture of the nation in which they find themselves and many other factors besides. The issue becomes even more complicated when we begin to think about what we expect from our religious leaders – are they to be examples of holiness and purity or can we allow them the same frailties that we exhibit as part of our humanity. The tension is further exacerbated when we bring Jesus into the mix. Do we think of him as remote or familiar, more as a moral guardian or more as a friend? How do we want to think of him?

Jesus recognised this as a problem in his own time. In today’s gospel he names the tension. “But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another,

‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;

we wailed, and you did not mourn.’

For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.”

As best we can tell, the nation of Israel was looking for a Saviour – someone to set them free, to lose the bonds imposed upon them by the Roman Empire. They were hoping for someone to rebuild the house of David and to restore their relationship with God. It is clear however that they were conflicted in this regard. Beyond the broad expectations named above, there does not seem to have been one consistent idea of what the Saviour would look like or how he would behave. Neither John nor Jesus conformed to the image that was in their mind.

To begin with, they were disconcerted by John’s piety and aestheticism. Not only did John condemn the behaviour of the people and the religious leaders, his radical lifestyle exposed their relative shallowness and made them uncomfortable. Few would have been willing to give up their personal comforts to follow in his footsteps and to adopt his way of life. Then Jesus came, but he also disconcerted them. He was too ordinary, and his lifestyle confronted them in a different way. Whereas John had tried to emulate the austerity of the prophets, Jesus’ behaviour was too wild and free for the establishment. Jesus’ behaviour didn’t match that expected of religious leaders, let alone of good Jews. If the religious leaders were looking for someone more relaxed than John, they weren’t looking for someone quite as relaxed as Jesus.

From the point of view of the religious leaders at least, neither John nor Jesus fitted the bill – the former was too serious and the latter too frivolous. One was too remote and the other too familiar. John exposed their unwillingness to reform their lives and Jesus revealed their inability to relax and enjoy life. Both John and Jesus made the establishment uncomfortable when they had expected a Saviour who would make them feel comfortable. Jesus found himself in a lose/lose situation. He knew that the religious leaders hadn’t responded to John and he could see that they weren’t responding to him. It didn’t seem that he had anywhere to go – the religious leaders didn’t want a funeral, but neither did they want a wedding. They didn’t want to mourn, but they certainly didn’t want to dance.

However, while the religious leaders may have had a problem in recognising Jesus the people did not. The people did not have minds that were clouded by ideas of what should and should not be. This meant that they were free to respond simply to whom Jesus was. Their openness to what could be, allowed them to see past the fact that Jesus did not conform. They could see Jesus for who he was. They were willing to be convinced by Jesus’ teaching and healing that he was indeed the one sent by God.

It is an important lesson for all of us – that we do not become blinded by our own ideas and understanding, but remain open to the presence of God in the most unlikely people and the most unlikely places. If we do not, we may find ourselves in the position of the first century leaders – unable to recognise Jesus when he is right in front of us.

Let us join in the dance and go wherever it might take us.

Faith and doubt – two sides of one coin

April 26, 2014

Easter 2

John 20:19-31

Marian Free

In the name of God who, far from demanding blind faith, challenges us to think for ourselves. Amen.

I can clearly remember July 20, 1969 – the day Neil Armstrong stepped on to the moon. The space landing was considered such a significant historical event that we were given a half day off school to go home and watch it on TV. As my family did not have a television, I went home with a friend and saw it as it happened. America really did manage to land someone on the moon. Amazingly, though the event was broadcast live and watched by people all over the world, there were still those who didn’t believe that it was real. At one extreme, the grandmother of one of my friends who steadfastly clung to her naive belief that the moon was made of green cheese and at the other end were those who held all kinds of conspiracy theories – including one that the whole thing was filmed somewhere in the Australian outback.

New discoveries or new ideas are not always readily accepted. Most of us take time to absorb new information or to adjust to new ideas. All of us, before we accept something new or different, have to make decisions about who and what we trust. Confronted by new information, we have to weigh up the evidence before us and come to our own conclusion before we change our mind-set. This is true not just for advances in science, but also for revisions in the way in which historical data is interpreted over time. So for example, one of the questions which requires a response at the moment is whether climate change is real or whether its proponents are hysterical nature lovers who want to impose their ideals (and their limitations) on us. Another challenge is to come to a conclusion about the way in which historians are revising the story of the Gallipoli landing. Could it really be true that the calamitous campaign was as much the responsibility of the Australians as it was of the British or are the historians just trying to create controversy and draw attention to themselves? Faced with new data, we also have to decide whether our failure to accept it is based on a rational examination of the new facts, or whether we are held back by sentiment, conservatism or a dislike of change.

This need to question, to test ideas, is no less true in regard to issues of faith. It is reasonably easy to demonstrate that Jesus was an historic person who lived and was crucified in the Palestine of the first century and it does not require a great intellectual leap to acknowledge that Jesus’ teaching contains wisdom and guidance for life that crosses the barrier between secular and divine.

The resurrection however is a different matter that creates a number of difficulties. There is no rational, reasonable explanation for the resurrection. There were no witnesses to the actual event and there are at least four differing accounts of the risen Christ – more if John 21 is considered original to the gospel. There are consistent elements – the women at the tomb and Jesus’ appearing in locked rooms – but they are reported slightly differently by each evangelist. Both John and Mark record a meeting with Mary Magdalene and Mark and Luke suggest that the risen Jesus met travelers on the road. Some stories are unique to the individual gospels. Jesus’ appearance to Thomas is recorded only in John and Luke alone suggests that the risen Jesus is able to eat. If we had only the original Markan gospel we would have only the account of the empty tomb and the fear of the disciples to convince us that Jesus had risen.

And yet we believe. We believe despite the lack of eyewitnesses; the apparent absurdity of the claims and the paucity of the evidence. We believe despite the centuries that separate us from the events themselves. Does that mean that we suspend our reason, that we allow ourselves to pretend that belief or faith requires that we do not need to question or to think, that we can just ignore the difficulties presented by a dead man returning to life?

I don’t think so. We don’t believe without a basis for our belief. Like Thomas we ask questions and we test what we believe and like Thomas, we believe because, we have had an experience of the risen Christ and because we know Jesus’ living presence in our lives.

Over the centuries, for a number of reasons, Thomas has had a lot bad press:.he questioned the experience of the other disciples, Jesus’ asked him to have faith and his lack of confidence in the other disciples led to the expression ‘doubting Thomas’. This has caused many to come to the conclusion that faith requires unquestioning belief in what others tell us. The reality is that for many, doubt and questioning are essential ingredients of faith. Jesus himself was not free from doubt – before he died he wondered if God could do things differently and on the cross he doubted that God was with him.

Doubt need not be an indication that faith is wavering. It can be a sign of faith that is growing into maturity. Questioning, searching often indicates a movement from a faith that is dependent on the word of others to a faith that is based on personal research and experience – a faith that is truly one’s own. Questioning is not only healthy, but as the example of Thomas indicates, it can lead to a deeper understanding – a richer experience than is possible if faith is based on second-hand knowledge or experience.

It is important to note that Jesus does not censure Thomas for his failure to accept the word of the other disciples, nor does he deny Thomas the opportunity to have the same experience that they had. Instead Jesus allows Thomas not only to see, but also to touch and feel – to discover conclusively for himself that what the others said was indeed true. The result is powerful. Thomas falls to his knees declaring: My Lord and my God.”

Thomas should be remembered, not for his lack of faith but for his recognition of Jesus – as Lord, but more importantly as God. In this Thomas is a ground-breaker, a leader – anything but a doubter or a failure.

We do not believe because someone else has told us to. We believe because like Thomas we know Jesus Christ as our Saviour, as our Lord and our God.

 

Christ is risen.

He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Jesus’ baptism

January 13, 2013

Baptism of Jesus – 2013

Luke 3:15-18, 21-22

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who through our baptism anoints us calls us to serve. Amen.

You will have noticed that not only is this morning’s gospel brief, but that only two of the five verses specifically refer to Jesus’ baptism. Further, though this may not have been obvious if you were listening and not reading, the gospel consists of two sets of disconnected verses from Luke, chapter 3. Those who prepared our lectionary have joined a small section of John’s preaching with the actual baptism of Jesus. Though not linked by Luke, together these verses give us some insight into John’s understanding of Jesus.

In this context, John’s preaching focuses on three things: God’s wrath (associated with the final judgement), how to live (to avoid God’s wrath) and John’s predictions about the Christ (who is associated with God’s wrath). In response to the wondering of the crowd, John the Baptist makes it clear that he is not the Christ. He goes on to list a number of points to back up his claim – the one who is coming will be more powerful than he. He, John, is so far removed from the Christ that he would not even be able to perform the lowliest of tasks for him. He is baptizing with water, the Christ will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire. John may be preparing the people for judgement, the Christ will carry out the judgement (the winnowing fork is in his hands). John expects that the ministry of the Christ, will in other words, be far superior to his own.

John’s preaching is addressed to “the crowds” – to those who have come out from Jerusalem to hear him and to be baptised. Interestingly, Jesus is not mentioned as one of their number nor even as someone who comes out to hear John. It is not until Luke has reported John’s imprisonment by Herod that we discover that Jesus was baptised though it is not clear by whom or why. If the gospel’s chronology is correct, John is already in jail when Jesus is baptised. This raises a number of questions. Why record the story at all? Was someone other than baptising and if there was why doesn’t Luke tell us who? Was Jesus baptised by one’s of John’s disciples. We will never know.

It has to be said that Luke’s account of Jesus’ baptism is tantalizingly stark. It provides some detail but gives no explanation or interpretation of the events. What we learn from Luke’s gospel is that Jesus was apparently baptised after everyone else (perhaps not by John whom Herod has locked up), he is praying when the heavens open, the Holy Spirit descends bodily as a dove and a voice from heaven declares Jesus to be God’s beloved Son. So much information is crowded into two sentences (one in the Greek)! Jesus’ reaction to the extraordinary occurrences is not recorded nor is that of the crowds who presumably witnessed something. Such dramatic events are reported in a matter of fact manner, completely lacking in commentary or explanation.

A comparison with Mark’s gospel (Luke’s source) reveals that some features of this account are unique to Luke – in particular the fact that Jesus is praying, that Luke omits to say from where Jesus came and implies that it is not John who performs the baptism of Jesus. Mark’s gospel identifies Jesus’ baptism as the moment at which it becomes clear who Jesus is. Luke does use the baptism as a transition to Jesus’ public ministry but he does not link the two events in Jesus’ life – one does not lead to the other. At this point in Luke’s narrative he has no need to explain Jesus’ call and mission. He has already established Jesus’ identity in his birth narrative. In contrast to Mark, in the first two chapters of Luke’s gospel Jesus has already been announced as “Saviour, Lord and Messiah and as Son”. The presence of the Spirit in his life has been plain since his unique conception. Jesus’ call is not new, as a teenager in the Temple, he seems very aware of who he is and of his relationship with God.

While Luke includes a report of Jesus’ baptism, his purpose is different from that of his source. It seems that in writing about the event, the author of Luke is concerned first and foremost to demonstrate divine approval of Jesus and of his ministry. When this reference to the events surrounding Jesus’ baptism are seen in the context of the rest of Luke’s gospel two other factors become obvious. One is the place of prayer in Luke’s gospel. Jesus prays before all his significant actions (before choosing the disciples for example). A second is this – there are two occasions in Luke’s gospel on which a voice from heaven affirms Jesus and reveals God’s approval of him and of his ministry. Both occasions mark a significant change of direction in Jesus life and ministry. After his Baptism Jesus begins his public ministry and after the second occasion – the Transfiguration – Jesus begins the journey to Jerusalem and to death.

Luke appears to use Jesus’ baptism as both a turning point in Jesus’ life, but also as an opportunity to inform the readers that Jesus is no ordinary person but one approved by, chosen by and set apart by God and that God is affirming his choice and his delight in the chosen one.

Each gospel is written with a particular audience in mind and each gospel tells us a little bit about the author. We honour the text best when we try to understand what is going on behind it. Often that is only our most informed guess, but if we try to get a sense of why the story was written as it was we get a deeper and richer understanding not only of the story, but of its development. A better comprehension of the different ways in which the evangelists understood and reported the accounts of Jesus’ life helps us to understand the differences, to realise that there is more than one way of looking at things and gives us the tools to enter into debate with those who are skeptical or have yet to believe.

The gospel writers did not just blindly write down what they heard from others. They considered the information at hand and reflected on the best way to share that with the world. We can do no better than to follow their example.

 

 

For the commentary on the Gospel I am heavily reliant on Fitzmyer, Joseph. The Gospel According to Luke I-IX. New York: Double Day and Company, 1979, though I take full responsibility for the way in which I have used the material and the conclusion drawn.

The teenage years – the adolescent Jesus

December 29, 2012

Christmas 1

Luke 2:41-52

Marian Free

 

In the name of God, who nurtures and encourages us, and who sets us free to make our own way in the world. Amen.

We all know that a parent bird literally forces a fledgling out of the nest so that it learns how to fly. If it is not pushed, it may never stretch its wings and become independent. It will be unable to survive unless the parent birds plan to lay no more eggs and feed the baby bird forever.

One of the things that I learnt as a parent was this – that good parenting, or at least reasonably good parenting, involves the costly task of letting go. That is, if we do the task of parenting well, what we are doing is preparing our children not to be parented. We engage in the task of ensuring that our children do not need us. The role into which we put so much energy and love is one that if done well inevitably leads to hurt, loss and separation. Our task, difficult as it may seem, is to prepare our children for independence – to love them so much that instead of holding on to them we set them free.

There are at least four stages of separation before our children actually leave the nest.

Each of these stages can create pain, stress and disharmony within the family as the relationships between parent and child are forced to change and adapt to the shifting situations. At least in recent history, it appears that unlike birds, we do not have an in-built trait which is automatically triggered when our children reach a particular stage of development. Our instinct is often to maintain control rather than to let go. Wehave to struggle with the process of our offspring’s growing maturity. Most of us find it difficult to be totally gracious about our children’s growing independence – or at least about the unsettling way in which their quest to separate themselves disrupts what has been a comfortable family life.

All separation is painful. Not only is the process of birth agonizing in a physical sense, but a mother also has to accept that the child, which was an integral part of her, can now exist – at least breathe and eat – independently. She is still needed, but she has to adapt to being needed in a different way. After two years, a child begins to exert pressure to be further identified as an independent individual. The so-called “terrible twos” are simply part of the process as a child makes the journey from dependence to independence. For many families this is a difficult time as parents try to find the balance between giving the child an opportunity to express themselves and at the same time creating boundaries so that the child learns the limits and gains a sense of security.

If this stage is negotiated successfully there may be a time of relative tranquility until the child reaches adolescence. Then, once again, the child will test the limits, make demands for independence and disrupt the pattern of relationships which have been developed and which have allowed the family unit to operate smoothly. Unlike the terrible twos, this is a stage which may extend over a number of years and which may force the final stage to come sooner rather than later. Teenagers often have no understanding of and certainly no sympathy for their parent’s concerns. They know that they will be safe at their friend’s party. They are sure that no harm will come to them if they go out with their friends and so on. On the other hand, parents often do not readily accept that their child is responsible or that their child is capable of making sensible decisions and looking after themselves. Parents know what can happen and take some time to accept that their child is ready for the world.

Finally, the young person is ready to step out on their own, to make their way. Tears at weddings reflect pride, but also a recognition that the person into whom so much was poured can now go it alone. All the love, all the nurture that the parent has provided have led to their child going off on their own.

Today’s gospel has many parts, of which one is Jesus’ adolescence. In this episode the twelve year old Jesus is demonstrating his growing awareness of who he is, he is asserting his independence, separating from his birth family and shifting his allegiance to another cause. In other words he is being a typical adolescent. Jesus has been brought by his parents to Jerusalem – as he has been for the past eleven years. As a twelve year old he has presumably been given some independence which he uses to make up his own mind that he does not need to leave at the same time as the rest of the family. His parents, who have trusted him to be responsible are, not surprisingly, filled with anxiety when they realize he is not with the return party and they begin an anxious search for him.

When they finally discover him, Jesus behaves like a normal adolescent. He cannot understand why they should have been so worried. He knew that he was perfectly safe and capable of looking after himself! Jesus’ response to his mother’s question is one of surprise: “Why were you looking for me?” He dismisses his parent’s anxiety, and as other adolescents have done since, accuses them of ignorance: “Didn’t you know?” This is a typical twelve year old who believes that he is all grown up and who thinks that his parents (who are stupid) should have caught up with that fact.

It is very easy to read the story of Jesus in the Temple in a pious way, but it is just as valid to see this account as further evidence of Jesus’ humanity.

Certainly, the author of Luke uses the account to make a transition from the story of Jesus’ birth to the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. He is also making the Temple a central character as he does at both the beginning and end of the Gospel, he is introducing the reader to Jesus’ superior wisdom, suggesting Jesus’ strong ties to God the Father, making links with the birth narrative (Mary treasured all these things in her heart) and with Simeon’s prediction (a sword will pierce your own heart). None of these must be allowed to paper over the picture of Jesus’ behaving as any other teenage boy asserting his independence, trying to break free of the parental shackles and seeking to be treated as an adult.

It is clear that “in the memory of the Lukan community, Jesus appeared not only as the son of the divine Father, but also in complete humanity, as a maturing boy[1].”

God as Jesus fully identified with our human situation in order that God might redeem our humanity and restore our divinity. In our own quest for divinity, we need not reject our humanity, but embrace it and, with God’s help make what we can of it.


[1] Bovon, Francois. (Trans Christine M. Thomas). Luke 1. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2002, 113.

Knowing Jesus – being part of the story

July 28, 2012

Pentecost 9

John 6:1-21

Marian Free

In the name of God who is the end of all our stories. Amen.

 There is a wonderful movie called “When Harry met Sally”. It is about two graduates who share a ride to New York, separate, meet again, separate and finally admit that they want to spend their lives together. I watched the movie again recently and was reminded that one of Harry’s habits was that he liked to read the end of a book first. He couldn’t stand the suspense of waiting until the end to see how everything worked out, so he would read a few pages at the beginning and then turn to the end before going back to where he had left off.

When I first saw the movie I couldn’t believe that any one could spoil a good read by jumping ahead in that way. However, I have to acknowledge that there are times when I’ve been compelled to ask someone whether or not a book ends well because the suspense is too much for me. I don’t want to know the ending exactly, but I do want to prepare myself to know if, for example, the central characters are going to completely damage their relationship or whether they eventually get it together. If I know that it is all going to end well, then I can cope with the stresses along the way! I have to confess that on one occasion it took me several weeks to read the end of a book, not because I was anxious about the ending, but because I had guessed what the ending was going to be and knew that it would spoil the whole book!

For most of us, knowing the end of a story spoils our enjoyment of it. In fact, reviewers now have an expression: “here comes the spoiler”‘ which acts as a warning for us to stop listening, watching or reading because the end of the story is about to be revealed.

John’s Gospel should perhaps come with such a warning. Throughout John’s gospel we are given a glimpse of the community in the present – the risen Jesus, the Jesus known by believers in the present – makes his presence known in the gospel as much, if not more than, the Jesus of history. This is because the author of John, unlike the authors of Matthew, Mark and Luke, writes from the perspective of a community which understands the historical Jesus as a result of knowing the risen Christ. Jesus is understood and taught from the perspective of those who know the risen Jesus. That is, the end of the story determines the way in which the story is told. That is not to say that the communities of the other gospels did not know the risen Christ and that they did not read that knowledge back into the story as they told it. It just means that they wrote their gospels from a different perspective. The writers of the Synoptic Gospels knew the end of the story but they wrote, by and large, as if they did not.

The account of feeding of the five thousand occurs in all four gospels. In fact in some gospels there are two accounts of miraculous feedings – the feeding of the five thousand and the feeding of the four thousand. Likewise in all four gospels the account of Jesus’ walking on the water is attached to the feeding of the five thousand.

John’s account has some marked differences from the other three. His detail of where the event occurred is more specific. He tells us that the Passover was near – a symbol that is associated with Jesus’ death. In John two disciples, Philip and Andrew, are mentioned by name. The emphasis in John is on the abundant provision of bread rather than the miracle itself. After the feeding, the disciples choose to go on ahead while Jesus withdraws by himself. There is a strong wind, but the disciples are more frightened of Jesus than they are of the storm.

A number of other factors in John’s re-telling stand out. These are what lead scholars to believe that the story is being interpreted in the light of the present situation – that of a community which knows the risen Christ. For example, in John’s account Jesus is completely in control. He is not trying to escape the crowds and they don’t reach the spot before him. It is Jesus, not the disciples who notices the hunger of the crowds and he doesn’t send the disciples to buy food to feed them.

In John’s gospel, Jesus sees the crowds coming, takes the initiative and asks Philip where they can buy bread. However, he does not expect an answer, because he already knows what he is going to do. The Jesus of John doesn’t waste time. As soon as he sees the crowds coming he wonders about feeding (not teaching) them. After they are fed, the crowds declare Jesus to be the prophet who is to come into the world. All this is in contrast with the other gospel writers who emphasize Jesus’ compassion, have Jesus teach and heal before the crowds are fed, and who stress the fact that the disciple’s misunderstand the meaning of the bread.

John’s concern in re-telling the story is less with the miracle itself and more with the question of the identity of Jesus. Even though they get it wrong, the recognition of Jesus by the crowds is an important part of the story. The crowds identify Jesus not just as a miracle worker, but as the prophet who is to come into the world. Mistakenly, they seek to make him king, but he is not the sort of king that they expect.

At the same time, the multiplication of the loaves provides an opportunity for teaching  – something that is a common feature in John’s gospel.  The Jesus of John doesn’t teach and heal the crowds and then feel obliged to feed them because he has kept them so late. In John the crowds are fed first. The miracle of the feeding provides the illustration and sets the scene for the teaching that is to come. (For the remainder of this very long chapter, Jesus will explain the meaning of the bread, claim to be the bread of life and demand that people identify completely with him by eating his flesh and drinking his blood. In fact, as we will discover the teaching is so difficult that it separates the Jesus’ true followers from those who just want what Jesus can do for them.)

As in Matthew and Mark, John’s account is followed by Jesus’ walking on the water. Again there are a number of differences in John which suggest an interpretation by the post-resurrection church. Two features stand out – Jesus comes to the disciples (as he does after the resurrection) and the key to the story is the recognition of Jesus by the disciples (they don’t mistake him for a ghost). When Jesus walks towards the boat the disciples are terrified, but when they know it is Jesus, they try to get him to come into the boat with him.

Their recognition of Jesus also serves to separate the disciples from the rest of the world. The disciples recognise Jesus for who he is, whereas the crowds see him as they want to see him. The crowds judge Jesus by worldly not other-worldly categories, they can see him only in earthly terms. The disciples know the deeper, spiritual significance of Jesus, and understand that as a result of such knowing they are set apart as the community that follows in his name.

Like the gospel writers, we too know the end of the Jesus’ story. Like the community for whom John’s gospel was written, our lives and our understanding of Jesus are determined as much by the Jesus who is present with us, as they are by our knowledge of the historic Jesus. The story of the historical Jesus is essential for our understanding of our faith, but it is the risen Jesus who informs, teaches, challenges and guides all that we do in the present.

Our present is the end of the story so far, our past is already a part of the story, and our future will determine how the story is told. In fact our future may determine whether or not the story continues to be told.

May we live in such a way that the story known through us is a story which is filled with the transforming power of the risen Christ in our lives.

(I am indebted to L.Th. Witkamp “Some Specific Johannine Features in John 6:1-21.” in Journal for the Study of the New Testament, 40 (1990) 43-60. for some of the ideas above.)