Posts Tagged ‘John the Baptist’

Held in the hands of God?

December 10, 2016

Advent 3 – 2016

Matthew 11:2-11

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who sees us through our darkest moments and brings us safely to the other side. Amen.

I am sure that many of you will have heard the expression “the dark night of the soul”. It originates from a poem written by John of the Cross, a Spanish mystic of the 16th century. John’s poem, The Ascent of Mount Carmel, describes the journey of the soul towards God. The dark nights (John does not add “of the soul”) refer to times of purification that are necessary on a journey that is a joyful experience of being guided by God. Over time the phrase lost its original meaning and was extended to the expression “the dark night of the soul”. This latter rather than referring to a necessary and joyful time of purification, came to refer to a time of spiritual dryness, a time when God’s presence was difficult if not possible to discern. Many deeply spiritual people experience this absence at some time or another during their lives. For example, Therese of Lisieux, a Carmelite nun had moments of bleakness centred around doubts about the afterlife and we are told that for most of her life Mother Teresa experienced an emptiness and dryness in her spiritual life.

But, as I have said, John of the Cross, does not see dark nights as a negative, but as gifts from God, as opportunities for spiritual growth. His hope is that the person on a spiritual journey will take advantage of these times and rather than trying to fight them or to solve the problem will allow themselves to rest entirely in God. He writes, and I paraphrase[1]:

“DURING the time, then, of the aridities of this night of sense – God effects the change of which we have spoken, drawing forth the soul from the life of senses into that of the spirit—that is, from meditation to contemplation. In this situation the soul no longer has any power to work or to reason with its faculties concerning the things of God. As a result, those on this journey suffer great trials, not so much because of the emptiness, but because they fear being lost on the road and worry that all spiritual blessing is over for them. They feel that God has abandoned them because they find no help or pleasure in good things. Then they grow weary, and endeavour (as they have been accustomed to do) to concentrate on some spiritual practice that used to bring them blessing thinking that their efforts will make a difference and that by failing to do this they are doing nothing.”

He goes on to point out that at these times it is the doing nothing that is important. It is only when they stop striving to do things themselves that they will really be able to experience what God is doing for them. In fact, according to John of the Cross the suffering that a person might experience in this dark night results not from the darkness, but from their trying to escape it. It is their resistance to the gift that God is trying to give them that causes them to experience aridity instead of peace. Instead of trying to learn from the experience, such people struggle to find a way out and it is in the struggle (not in the darkness) that their suffering lies.

As I reread today’s gospel and the poignant account of John the Baptist’s anxieties and doubts, I wondered if, in a later age, his namesake John of the Cross might have identified the Baptist’s experience as a “dark night”. I have always wondered why, when John has so confidently announced Jesus as the one whose “sandals he is unworthy to untie”, should now need to ask if Jesus is the one who is to come. What happened to the John who could, without fear of reprisal call the Pharisees and the Sadducees “vipers”? How could someone who was so sure of his mission and purpose in life, now have doubts? Could it be true that someone who saw himself as a prophet be surprised that he was at odds with the authorities – so much so that he was now in prison?

It was as I pondered these questions that I began to consider the “dark night of the soul” and to ask if this might explain John’s sense of doubt and insecurity.

John seems utterly confident. He preached repentance because he believed that the kingdom of heaven had come near. His message was so powerful that even the Pharisees and Sadducees came out from Jerusalem to hear him. His vision and foresight was such that he identified Jesus as the one “whose sandals he is not worthy to carry”. More than that, he has had the privilege of baptising Jesus. It must have been heady stuff. He must have felt so close to God. He was the mouthpiece of God, he was announcing the coming of the anointed one.

Now however, John is in prison. He is utterly powerless, isolated from what is happening in the world. His has lost confidence in his mission. He is not sure that Jesus really is “the one who is to come”. From prison, John needs reassurance that he has not misunderstood. He needs to be reassured that Jesus is the one and that the kingdom he proclaimed is indeed in the process of becoming a reality.

In his “dark night” John is unable to rest in God, to trust that God has all things in hand. John needs to take action. He needs to be in control. He needs to fight against the darkness instead of letting the darkness hold and transform him. He can’t let go of his sense of mission and purpose and that means that he can’t trust God. He can’t be sure that he was right.

Of course, this is pure speculation on my part. But for me it answers the question as to why John is now filled with doubt. His spiritual journey has taken an unexpected turn and he is not ready. He presumably thought that he had reached a pinnacle in his relationship with God. His confidence in his mission has led to a confidence in himself and a failure to recognise that he still has much to learn. As he is unprepared for this change in direction and, filled with self-doubt, begins to doubt God.

It is this moment that signifies the difference between Jesus and John. John, despite his courage and his prophetic qualities is at this point in his life and spiritual journey unable to let go of his sense of purpose and to completely trust in God. Jesus on the other hand, allowed God to take him to the cross. He was not sure what lay ahead, but trusted that whatever it was, God would have everything in hand and that if he, Jesus, place his trust completely in God, he would come out the other side radically transformed by whatever it was God had in store for him.

Like life itself, our spiritual journeys do not always take the route that we expect. In the light of John’s story, the question that we have to ask ourselves over and over again is this: “Do we really trust God?” and if we do, will we have the confidence and courage to rest in God even when our lives take a direction that we did not expect and that seems to have brought us to a dead halt.

God has our lives in God’s hands. Are our lives in the hands of God?

 

 

 

[1] The original reads:

“DURING the time, then, of the aridities of this night of sense (wherein God effects the change of which we have spoken, drawing forth the soul from the life of sense into that of the spirit—that is, from meditation to contemplation—wherein it no longer has any power to work or to reason with its faculties concerning the things of God, as has been said), spiritual persons suffer great trials, by reason not so much of the aridities which they suffer, as of the fear which they have of being lost on the road, thinking that all spiritual blessing is over for them and that God has abandoned them since they find no help or pleasure in good things. Then they grow weary, and endeavour (as they have been accustomed to do) to concentrate their faculties with some degree of pleasure upon some object of meditation, thinking that, when they are not doing this and yet are conscious of making an effort, they are doing nothing. “

 

 

 

Who is really a child of Abraham?

December 3, 2016

Advent 2 – 2016

Matthew 3:1-11

Marian Free

 

In the name of God in whose image we are made and whose image we are called to project to the world. Amen.

Recently I read a novel entitled A Spool of Blue Thread, by Anne Tyler. In broad terms the plot concerns a family and their family home, the complex family dynamics and how those dynamics shift as the parents age. The Whitshank family had a proud history – albeit only two generations old. Junior Whitshank bought the local construction company and re-named it Whitshank Construction. His son, Red, took over the company and it was expected that Red’s son Stem would take it over in his turn. Stem was not actually Red’s son. Red had three children of his own – two daughters and a son Denny. Stem, whose real name was Douglas, was actually the son of Lonesome O’Brien. Lonesome had the reputation of being the best tiler in town and he worked for Whitshank Construction. No one knew what had happened to Stem’s mother. When asked, Lonesome simply said that she had gone traveling.

Lonesome often took Douglas to work with him when a babysitter was not available. One day, when Stem was only two years old, Lonesome was raced into hospital from work. Red asked his wife Abby to come and pick up the child. Two days later Lonesome was dead and try as they might Red and Abby were unable to locate any next of kin for the child. Abby was adamant that Stem was not going into care and despite Red’s reservations and protestations Stem joined the Whitshank family. It was often remarked that Stem was more of a Whitshank than his brother Denny. Whereas Denny was easily bored, obstinate, thoughtless and unsettled, Stem was good, kind, sweet-tempered and easy-going like Red. Whereas Denny showed no interest in and no aptitude for the construction business, Stem loved working with wood and with people. Over time he became more and more like his adoptive father – even his walk was the same.

So what is it that makes a family? Is it blood or is it common interests? Is it the fact that people live together or are there other criteria? Today, families come in all kinds of shapes and sizes – extended families, nuclear families, single parent families, blended families, families in which there are two mothers or two fathers and families made possible through surrogacy or sperm donation. Families are both relational – that is there have genetic ties – and constructed – that is they bound together by ties that are as strong as family even though the individuals are not related to each other at all.

In today’s gospel John the Baptist challenges what it means to be in God’s family. He proclaims: “Do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.” Up until this point in time, being a member of God’s family was simply a matter of birth, of being able to claim Abraham as a forebear. To be sure, being a son or daughter of Abraham came with some responsibilities, but essentially it was understood that God was the God of the Israelites and that as such their status as God’s children was inviolable.

John challenges this assumption and the complacency that came with it. Being a part of God’s family is not something that can be taken for granted. As the prophets before him, John bears witness to the fact that there is much more to being a child of Abraham than an accident of birth. From Deuteronomy through to Malachi, the Israelites have been reminded of what God expects from his family. In particular God expects that those who belong to God will share God’s concern for the widow, the orphan and the stranger. Members of God’s family are expected “to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with their God” (6:8).

The relationship between God and the Israelites is conditional on their holding and conforming to God’s values. God through Jeremiah says: “If you truly amend your ways and your doings, if you truly act justly one with another, if you do not oppress the alien, the orphan, and the widow, or shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not go after other gods to your own hurt, then I will dwell with you in this place, in the land that I gave of old to your ancestors forever and ever.” (7:5,6). Being in God’s family means being and behaving like God.

In the world the Old Testament and of John the Baptist there was no social welfare and at least ninety percent of people lived just above the poverty level. Those without any means of support – the widow, the orphan, the disabled and the alien were utterly dependent on the good will of others for survival. The Old Testament made it abundantly clear that it was the responsibility of all the children of Abraham to share with God a care for the vulnerable and for the outsider. By extension, if those were the criteria for being children of Abraham, then anyone who behaved in such a way could be considered a part of God’s family.

This is one of the points that John is making here. He is warning the Pharisees and Sadducees that they cannot simply rely on their lineage, nor can they assume that it is sufficient to make a cynical or superficial show of responding to God’s message. What they need is a complete change of heart. Unless they demonstrate in their lives that they share God’s sense of justice, God’s passion for the poor and the outcast, the alienated and the rejected, they cannot claim to be children of Abraham.

Being part of God’s family is not something that we can or should take for granted, it is both a blessing and a demand, a gift and a responsibility, it requires a response on our part not just passive acceptance. Being a child of Abraham demands an engagement with the world and a passion for justice and equity.

Sometimes even the best of us need a John the Baptist in our lives to shame us, to call us to account, and to remind us of who we really are and to whose family we really belong.

Entering into the gospel of Luke

January 9, 2016

The Baptism of our Lord – 2016

Luke 3:15-22

Marian Free

In the name of God who opens our eyes and sends us out to waken the world to its salvation. Amen.

Advent, Christmas, Epiphany – the year of Luke has crept up on us, obscured in part by our celebration of a number of festivals that are best illustrated by readings from the other gospels. Year C, the year of Luke began on the first Sunday of Advent. This means that once again we will make our way though the third gospel. As we do we will become familiar with those themes and ideas that distinguish Luke’s account from that of Matthew and Mark and we will begin to discern what the differences tell us both about the author and about those for whom it was written.

In order to fully understand Luke, we have to place the gospel in context. There is a strong consensus that the first gospel to be written was that attributed to Mark. Scholars believe that Matthew and Luke used Mark as the basis for their own accounts but that they also had a common source. So for example, some of the parables and sayings that have been added are common to both Matthew and Luke – for example the Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount are absent from Mark, but used by Matthew and Luke.

At the same time, both Matthew and Luke have material that is unique to them. Matthew alone records the parables of the ten bridesmaids and the separation of the sheep and the goats. It is only Luke who records our best-loved and most well-known parables those of the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan.  From this we conclude that Luke used Mark, a source that he had in common with Matthew and material that only he knew.

Among the gospel writers Luke has a further claim to our interest. He alone wrote two volumes – the gospel and the Acts of the Apostles – the life of Jesus and the history of the early church.  The author of Luke is concerned with salvation history.  He divides time into a number of periods – the era of the promises of God, the  interim time of John the Baptist and the infancy of Jesus, the time of Jesus, the interim of the Cross, the Resurrection, the Ascension and Pentecost and the time of the Church that will end when Jesus returns.

Like the rest of the gospel writers Luke must confront the conundrum that by and large the Jews have not embraced Jesus whereas the Gentiles.  Luke deals with this in at least three ways. He writes in such a way as to develop demonstrate the continuity of Jesus with Judaism, beginning by formally introducing John as the last of the Old Testament prophets and he frames the story with Jerusalem – the Jews most sacred space. This is to illustrate his argument that salvation in the form of Jesus came to the heart of Judaism and it was there that it was rejected before being offered to the Gentiles. In comparison to Matthew whose gospel has a Jewish focus, Luke is keen to demonstrate that Jesus has relevance for the whole world. Luke’s genealogy goes back all the way to Adam – making Jesus’ humanity (rather than his Jewishness) blatantly clear.

There are a number of other things that make Luke’s gospel distinct. For a start, the gospel is addressed to a single person Theophilus.  Whether or not Theophilus is a real person or a representative figure, it would appear that Luke writes for townspeople, people who had better education and higher incomes than the Galilean disciples of Jesus. Luke changes the setting from a poor rural environment to one that is more familiar to his intended audience. He changes villages to cities, the amounts of money are bigger and the disciples are more informed, less like peasants (they own their own boats)[1].

In Luke’s gospel, the disciples are less foolish than in Mark and more aware of who Jesus is and of their own unworthiness in his presence.  The Holy Spirit has a dominant place in this gospel (and subsequently in Acts) being mentioned 28 times in the gospel[2] and a massive 83 times in Acts. The Holy Spirit moves both Elizabeth and Zechariah, they are promised that John will be filled with the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirits overshadows Mary such that she becomes pregnant and Simeon, filled with the Holy Spirit recognises Jesus when he is brought into the Temple. The Holy Spirit descends on Jesus at his baptism and Jesus promises the Holy Spirit to those who believe and warns of the sin against the Holy Spirit. (In Acts, the Holy Spirit directs the action almost entirely.)

Worship and prayer are central to the third gospel. Not only does the gospel begin and end in Jerusalem, but it begins and ends with a worshipping community. Jesus prays at all the important moments in his life (before choosing the 12, before asking who people say he is, before he predicts Peter’s denial and in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus’ disciples see Jesus praying and ask him to teach them how to pray and Jesus encourages them to pray and includes a parable on prayer. The Jesus of Luke scolds people for not giving thanks. All in all there are 20 references to people worshipping in Luke’s gospel.

Outsiders play a significant part in this gospel. Jesus says of the centurion that nowhere in Israel has he found such faith, the Good Samaritan challenges stereotypes of who is “good”, it is the Samaritan leper who gives thanks. Women also play a significant role. Though we can debate what Luke’s intention was, his gospel is more balanced – a woman as well as a man is healed on the Sabbath. The woman who anoints Jesus is identifies as an exemplar of hospitality. God is depicted as the shepherd who looks for the lost sheep and the woman who looks for the lost coin. The parables of growth feature a farmer who tosses mustard seeds and a woman who kneads yeast.

Luke is more concerned with money than the other writers, but his attitude towards wealth is ambivalent. On the one hand, he is anxious not to alienate his audience (patron) Theophilus, on the other, he appears to be convinced that those who are rich have a responsibility to use their wealth wisely.  Wealth is to be used by all. So we see that only Luke records the parable of the rich man and Lazarus and of the man who plans to build extra barns to store his surplus crops.

Unlike the other gospel writers, Luke is concerned to locate the gospel in history. This is evidenced by his reference to the census and to his naming of the various leaders (including differentiating between the different Herods).

We will be spending this year with Luke. Can I suggest that you make the time to read the gospel from beginning to end? Read it on its own or with a commentary. Become familiar with the content, make a note of the things that confuse you, notice the aspects that surprise and challenge you. Ask questions, challenge the text. Don’t be afraid to interrogate the gospel in depth.  Our scriptures are robust, they will withstand any amount of questioning and they have survived so long that they are not likely to be diminished or damaged by our weak attempts at exploration. It is more likely that they will reveal hitherto unexplored, unexposed depths.

Have conversations with the text, with each other, with Rodney, with me so that you will be better equipped to have conversations with others.

Text me, email me, talk to me, make comments on the sermon blog, write down your questions, your frustrations and at year’s end, we will all be better equipped to share the gospel with the world – or at least that small part of the world of which we are a part.

 

[1] There are a number of examples, but perhaps the best example of the way in which Luke re-frames the story is the account of the healing of the paralytic. If you recall, there is such a crowd around Jesus that when a group of friends arrive carrying their friend on a stretcher they find that they cannot get anywhere near Jesus. In order to get closer, they dig up the roof and lower their friend into the room. A city dweller would not understand that Palestinian houses have flat mud roofs, so Luke makes a slight change and has the friends remove tiles from the roof in order to lower the paralytic.
[2] Compared with 25 occurrences in the remaining gospels together.

Trust and doubt

December 19, 2015

Advent 4 – 2015

Luke 3:39-45

Marian Free

In the name of God who inspires our trust. Amen.

I once saw a sign outside a church that read: “When all else fails pray!” At first it took me aback, then I realised that it was an accurate description of the relationship that some of us have with God. Maybe I am speaking just for myself, but I suspect that I am not the only person who tends to rely on my own resources first and remember God second. On a day-to-day basis, I think that I place my trust in God. I certainly believe that God directs my life and that I don’t have to be concerned about the future. However, I have to admit that there are times, especially in times of crisis, when my first reaction is to think of solutions rather than to commit the situation to prayer and trust that God will provide me with an answer.

How far do you trust God? Do rely too much on your own resources or do you have complete confidence in God? Or – do you like most of us – vacillate between complete and utter trust and an anxiety that if we don’t do it ourselves nothing will happen. Most of us have a deep trust that God is with us, but that doesn’t meant that there are not times when we act on our own.

In this tension between trust and doubt we are not alone. Abraham left everything to set out on a crazy journey to a place that he had never heard of, led by a God who was not the God of his fathers. Yet he did not trust God to fulfill the promise of a son and took matters into his own hands. The people of Israel followed Moses into the wilderness only to waver when they got to the Promised Land. Elijah, who put to shame the priests of Baal, had moments when he thought that God had abandoned him. John the Baptist who, we are told, saw the Spirit descend on Jesus, still needed to ask Jesus if he was the one to come. The disciples, who at first so readily followed Jesus, had times of doubt – most visibly demonstrated by their absence at Jesus’ trial and crucifixion and their lack of direction after his death.

Few of us it seems are able to completely let go and let God, few of us are able to surrender ourselves entirely into God’s care. At some points in our lives we find ourselves wanting to take control. We pray: “Your will be done” and then exercise our own will.

Part of the eternal struggle is our unwillingness to trust God and our determination to go our own way. We wonder why the world is as it is, yet fail to see that time and again, we take over instead of allowing God to take charge of world affairs. The story of Eden is played out every day as human being compete with God for control as our desire for independence leads to decisions that have disastrous consequences – for ourselves and for others. When Abraham and Sarah took things into their own hands, it had disastrous consequences for themselves and for Hagar and Ishmael. When the Israelites were too afraid to trust God to lead them into the Promised Land, they sentenced themselves to forty more years in the wilderness. When Peter didn’t accept that Jesus had to suffer, he was accused of being Satan. When we take things into our own hands, it can lead to disastrous consequences. When we act on our own behalf we interfere with and subvert God’s plans for us, we delay fulfillment of God’s promise and damage our relationship with God and very often with those around us. When we fail to place our trust completely in God, we prevent God from directing our lives in ways that lead to contentment and peace, for ourselves and for the world.

Trust exists when one person is willing to rely on another to the extent that they abandon control over the actions performed by the other and thereby risk a certain amount of uncertainty with regard to the outcome[1]. Trusting in God means handing over control and accepting that even though things don’t go the way we hope, God will be with us in the process and God will see us through to the end.

In Mary we have one example of trust outweighing doubt. Mary was deeply disturbed, agitated even by the angel’s announcement to her and her response was to challenge and to question how such a thing might be possible. Yet despite her fear and anxiety, Mary was able to stifle her incredulity and to accept not only that she would have a child, but that somehow in her conservative, closed society that God would find a way to protect both herself and her child.

Mary’s trust was not without cost. Almost from the beginning she had to let go of her promised son. Jesus caused anxiety by staying behind in Jerusalem to dialogue with the priests. On another occasion, he refused to see her claiming that those who believed were his mother, his sisters and his brothers, and all the time in the back of her mind is Simeon’s prophecy that: “a sword will pierce your own soul.” Finally, Mary has to accept and endure Jesus’ conviction and crucifixion.

Like us, Mary could not read God’s mind. When she said: “yes” to God, she did not know where it would lead her. She did not know that Joseph would still marry her, she did not realise that parenting her child would be painful and difficult, she could not have imagined that God would allow her son to suffer a slow and agonizing death and she certainly could not have imagined Jesus’ resurrection and the movement that grew up following his death and resurrection.

Like Mary, we cannot read God’s mind. We do not know what God has in store for us. We will, like her, have moments of uncertainty and doubt. But through it all we can be sure of one thing, that if only we hold fast to God’s promise, if only we have the courage to surrender ourselves entirely to God, not only will our lives work out for the better, but our very surrender to God will contribute to the salvation of the world and the coming of God’s kingdom.

[1] A paraphrase from Wikipedia.

Lovers or Vipers?

December 12, 2015

Advent 3 – 2015

Luke 3:7-18

Marian Free

In the name of God who draws us into a relationship that is honest, mature and above all, life-giving.  Amen.

Relationships – with family, with friends and with lovers -can be complicated. They require a delicate balance between giving each other enough space and taking each other for granted. Healthy relationships rely on mutual trust and respect, a recognition of difference and a willingness to encourage each other to grow. All relationships require a certain amount of effort, of consideration, of good communication.

Perhaps the most difficult relationship to manage effectively is that of marriage. Marriage is the relationship in which we place the highest expectations, in which two people are thrown together for the greatest period of time and in which we can be confronted with extraordinary stresses and strains. Those who enter into matrimony do so with great anticipation. They are so full of love that they believe that nothing will weaken the bonds between them. In most cases each partner is sufficiently confident in their affection to promise that their commitment to each other will weather all kinds of changes in circumstance including sickness and health, wealth and poverty. Sadly, for a great many people, this does not prove to be true.  Statistics tell us that in 2014 alone, 46,498 divorces were granted in Australia and in America almost 50% of marriages end in divorce.

There are many reasons why relationships do not last. Surprisingly, according to Dr Mark Dombeck, a primary cause of marriage break-up is familiarity. He suggests that over time passion diminishes and at the same time couples become more used to each other. If this continues without some attempt to address the issue, couples can find themselves drifting apart and taking each other for granted. Situations such as this can lead to resentment or to one or both partners being tempted by the attentions of others and falling into an affair. Longevity in marriage cannot simply be taken for granted.

At the other extreme are partnerships in which one or the other is unable to truly believe that they are loved. They simply cannot take the love of the other as a given and as a result either smother their partner with attention or demand evidence that they are loved and valued. Unfortunately, nothing can satisfy their need and their unrelenting attention or their constant need for reassurance may wear away the patience of their partner who may seek solace in being with someone who is more secure and less demanding.

What is required of a good relationship is holding the tension between being over-confident and lacking in confidence such that there is mutual trust and a mutual commitment to keep the relationship alive.

When we think about relationships – what makes them strong and what causes them to break apart – it is not often that our relationship with God is included in the mix. This is unfortunate, because the Bible in its entirety deals with our relationship with God. The Old Testament in particular describes God’s reaching out to us and God’s desire for a relationship that is honest and whole, mature and responsible, loving and confident.  At the same time, the Old Testament describes God’s frustration and anger that humanity consistently goes its own way either taking God and God’s gifts for granted, or its failure to trust in God’s love and believe that God will be true to God’s promises.

Into this mix comes John the Baptist urging God’s people to rethink and renew their relationship with God, to stop taking God for granted and to stop selfishly going their own way.

As Steve Godfrey says: “John must have missed the Seeker Sensitive Message”.[1] Instead of commending those who have come out to listen to him and be baptised, he attacks them: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?”

What John is really saying is that the restoration of relationship requires more than just outward show. John can see what we cannot – that those who have come to him, still think that being a child of Abraham is all that it takes to win salvation. They are reliant on their heritage and do not understand that their relationship with God requires some effort, some commitment on their part. For John, it is not enough that the crowds have come to the wilderness seeking baptism. They must intend to change their lives. They must demonstrate their love for and gratitude towards God, they must “bear fruits worthy of repentance” they must stop taking God and their relationship with God for granted.

At the same time John, is anxious not to frighten the crowds. He cautions that a healthy relationship must maintain the balance between doing enough and doing either too little or too much. When asked: “What shall we do?” his response is measured. He suggests that there is no need to go over the top, no need for them to be so lacking in confidence that they feel a need to earn God’s love. They don’t need to work themselves into a frenzy or to worry themselves sick about doing enough to please God. Maintaining a healthy relationship he suggests is a simple as not taking advantage of others, not practicing extortion or blackmail and not holding on to more than one needs but being content with what one has.

John the Baptist reminds us that our relationship with God cannot be taken for granted, it requires openness and honesty, trust and respect, and above all a constant re-examination to see whether on the one hand we are doing all that we can to keep the passion alive and to avoid the over-familiarity that would allow us to take God (and God’s love) for granted and on the other hand that we ensure that remain sufficiently confident in God’s love for us that we do not fall into the error of failing to trust God and that we are able to resist the temptation to over-compensate by doing those things that we mistakenly believe will make God love us.

Our relationship with God is the most important relationship that we have and yet for many of us, it is the one into which we put the least effort. Perhaps this Advent is the time to reconsider how much we take God for granted and to ask ourselves would John the Baptist include us among the brood of vipers?

[1] churchintheworld.com “Brood of Vipers”

A matter of moral fibre

July 11, 2015

Pentecost 7

Mark 6:14-29

Marian Free

In the name of God who transcends both time and place and yet is ever present. Amen.

John the Baptist is something of an enigma. He provides an introduction and a foil for Jesus. He precedes the latter and prefigures Jesus. Yet despite his obvious importance, Jesus says that the least in the kingdom of God is greater than John (Luke 7:28, Matt 11:11). As I have said on previous occasions, John appears to have been a source of embarrassment for the early Jesus’ followers who are keen to diminish his significance. Luke carefully crafts the introduction to the third gospel to suggest that John’s role is to point towards Jesus and that while the births of both men have supernatural overtones, Jesus is clearly the superior of the two. This emphasis is continued in the narratives of Jesus’ baptism – John doesn’t mention it at all, Luke almost skips over it and Matthew suggests that it only happened at all because Jesus insisted (Matt 3:13-15).

That John was an historical figure seems to be without doubt and that he had followers at the time of Jesus and beyond is unquestionable. Not only does John have to be accounted for by the gospel writers, but the Jewish historian mentions his death in Jewish Antiquities 18:116-19). By all accounts John was an uncomfortable figure. His style of life and his preaching were confronting. His style of dress, choice of lifestyle were hardly conventional and John’s practice of baptism directly critiqued the sacrificial tradition of the Temple in Jerusalem implying as it did that forgiveness could be obtained outside the Temple cult[1].

John was a threat, not only to the religious traditions of the time, but also to the political stability of the nation. Herod had a number of reasons to be alarmed by John’s presence and preaching that had nothing to do with Herod’s personal life. According to Crossan: “what is most explosive about John’s (baptismal) rite is that people cross over into the desert and are baptised in the Jordan as they return to the promised land” (231). Whether or not this was a deliberate inference on the part of John, it certainly had parallels to other movements that “invoked the desert and the Jordan to imagine a new and transcendental conquest of the Promised Land” (op cit 232). In what was already a politically volatile situation, Herod had every reason to be anxious about a man considered to be a prophet, who drew large crowds to him and who played on the imagery of the desert and the Jordan.

Josephus record of John’s death is very different from that of today’s reading. “Eloquence that had so great an effect on mankind (sic) might lead to some form of sedition, for it looked as if they would be guided by John in everything that they did. Herod decided therefore that it would be much better to strike first and be rid of him before his work led to an uprising, than to await an upheaval, get involved in a difficult situation and to see his mistake. He was brought in chains to Machaerus [2] …… and there put to death” (Jewish Antiquities, 18:116-119).

In contrast, the Gospel tradition of John’s death not surprisingly places the emphasis on Herod’s immorality rather than his political anxiety. Though all the gospels record John’s death and the Synoptics all mention Herodias as a factor only Mark and Matthew provide the detail of the dinner, the daughter’s dance and Herod’s rash promise to give her whatever she desires.

We know then that Herod put John to death, but the actual circumstances surrounding that death cannot be determined with any degree of certainty.

Josephus emphasises the political threat to Herod’s hold on power. The gospels stress not only Herod’s insecurity, but also his immorality and his weakness. It was “because of his oath and his guests” that Herod acceded to his “daughter’s” request. In a culture that was governed by principles of honour and shame, Herod could not afford to lose face. So, whether or not he himself had qualms about the execution, he was honour bound to keep his promise. To have not done so would have been to lose both credibility and status, something that he could not afford either socially or politically.

The desire to gain and to hold on to power can often lead to the abandonment of moral principles and the adoption of violence towards any threat or opposition. History has shown over and over again that Herod was not unique. Despotic or insecure rulers can be ruthless, cruel, oppressive and unjust in their efforts to maintain their position of strength. (In very recent times we have witnessed the violent suppression of popular movements – especially in the Middle East.)

In the gospels, John’s unwarranted death at the hands of Herod sets the scene for Jesus’ crucifixion – an innocent man will be executed by a representative of Rome; Jesus, like John, will be seen as a threat to the Empire and especially to Pilate’s hold on power: Pilate will be swayed by the crowds just as Herod’s actions were influenced by the presence of his guests.

It is not just those in power who sometimes feel a need to do whatever it takes to hold on to that power, or to retain the respect of their supporters. Many of us are guilty at some time or another of behaving in ways that protect the image of ourselves that we wish to present to the world. It can be embarrassing to admit that we have made a mistake and humiliating to have our position at work, (in the community) undermined. So we cover up our errors or lay the blame elsewhere. We behave in such a way that will ensure the regard of others – sometimes at the expense of someone else.

Today’s gospel does not come with an obvious message, but read in this way, it challenges us to consider our own behaviour and calls us to examine our own integrity. As followers of Jesus, we are called to see weakness as strength, to put ourselves last, to be indifferent to societal measures of status and power and to seek the values of the kingdom rather than the values of this world.

[1] Crossan, John, Dominic. The Historical Jesus: The Life of a Mediterranean Jewish Peasant. San Francisco: Harper Collins Publishing, 1991, 235.

[2] The Franciscan Archeological Institute has details of the fortress on its website: http://www.christusrex.org/www1/ofm/fai/FAImachr.html

Self promotion or the promotion of Jesus

December 13, 2014

Advent 3 – 2014

John 1:6-8,19-28

Marian Free

 In the name of God, Life-giver, Redeemer, Sustainer. Amen.

In the movie Love Actually, Bill Nighie’s character (Billy Mack) is a washed up musician whose long-suffering manager (Joe) has found him a job re-working a popular song for Christmas. Billy is not at all happy. He thinks the task is below him and is rude, crude and obnoxious. He shows no gratitude towards Joe and risks the whole project by putting the producers of the song offside. His sullenness continues through the promotion period and through the radio interviews and TV appearances that Joe has set up. His attititude towards the song is so disparaging that during one of the interviews he states that if the song is the number one Christmas hit, he will perform it naked on that same TV show. Possibly as a result of Billy’s blustering, the song does make it to number one. As a result, Billy becomes a popular star once more. Beautiful women surround him and other stars want him to attend their Christmas parties. Joe gets no credit for putting Billy back on his feet. His efforts and his patience and the fact that he suffered Billy’s arrogant disdain for the song are all taken for granted. On Christmas Eve, Billy goes off in a limousine to a party and Joe (who makes no complaint) is left alone in the shabby apartment that they share.

There is more to the story than that of course, but it does bring to mind all the faceless, behind-the-scenes people who never receive public acknowledgement for the work they put into getting their employer or the person/s whom they represent to the top. The men and women behind national leaders and other politicians, the band managers, stage directors and so on are faceless. They don’t get invited to the parties, they are never in the newspapers. Few people even know they exist. These people find satisfaction – not in getting to the top themselves, but in supporting the ambitions of someone else.

They bear some similarities to John the Baptist, who stepped back so that Jesus could have front and centre stage. John says to those around him: ‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me’ and the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.‘ John doesn’t even know Jesus and has no idea of his credentials. Even when they finally meet, Jesus is as yet untried. He has done nothing to demonstrate his promise or to justify John’s confidence in him. What is more, John himself has a very successful ministry of his own. His influence is so significant that the religious leaders of the time send people to ask whether or not he is the Christ.

It must have been satisfying to see his own ministry grow, and tempting to let it go to his head. John has much to lose if Jesus does turn up yet he is absolutely clear about his role as the one who prepares the way for another. He recognises the limits of his own ministry and mission and is ready to stand aside when the time does come. Despite his success he is happy to play the role of support person – to allow his own role to diminish as that of Jesus grows. He is so confident that it was his responsibility to prepare the way for the one who was to come, that he can let go of his own authority and encourage his own disciples to become followers of Jesus (1:36). He gives up everything for the greater role that he believes that Jesus has to play.

John is a model for all of us who are in ministry and for all who would follow Christ. It doesn’t matter how good we are at our job, or how successful we are in our ministry we should not be seeking credit or to enlarge our influence. No matter how talented we are, we should not be striving for reward or recognition. if we are not promoting Jesus, we are only promoting ourselves.

Preparing for eternity

December 6, 2014

Advent 2 – 2014

Mark 1:1-8

Marian Free

 Living God fill us with a sense of expectation and anticipation that we may be ready to meet you when you come again. Amen.

 I was both a Brownie and a Girl Guide, so I knew all about being prepared. Among other things ‘being prepared’ involved carrying emergency kits in our pockets. I particularly remember this because unlike the other girls in my unit, I was unable to get all the various bits and pieces into a neat compact package. My first aid kit was twice as big as anyone else’s and my pocket always bulged unattractively. It made me self-conscious, but my kit contained only the same things as everyone else and I was prepared as anyone for almost any eventuality – snakebite, broken-glass, splinters, cuts. I had everything required for a minor medical emergency. The second kit (in my case equally bulky) contained other essentials like matches and pocketknife so that we could fend for ourselves in the bush. We were prepared for anything.

You don’t have to be a Girl Guide to be prepared. While much of our lives are routine, there are some areas that require at least some preparation. If for example, we are travelling overseas we need to check that we have passports, visas, inoculations, insurance and other such necessities. If we are going to hospital or having a medical procedure, it is essential that we are prepared – that we have filled in the correct forms, fasted for the right number of hours, advised the appropriate people of the medications we are taking or the things we are allergic to. Being prepared assures us of a safe trip, and the best possible outcome of our medical treatment.

We go to a lot of effort to be prepared for upcoming events to ensure that everything runs smoothly or works out as we have hoped. Planning for aspects of our earthly existence often comes at the expense of planning for our heavenly existence. Our concern with things temporal tends to overwhelm and overtake our concern for things eternal. Our focus on the present can mean that we do not pay enough attention to the future.

What are we doing now to ensure a good outcome at the judgement? Have we put the necessary things in place to guarantee a positive experience?

John the Baptist draws our attention to the coming of Jesus, and challenges us to be prepared, to set our lives straight and to repent of those things which might be a cause for regret.

Being prepared means more than being good. It means developing a heart and mind that are focused on the things of God. It means ridding ourselves of all selfishness and malice, all discontent and pettiness. It means being deeply at peace with ourselves and with the world. It means understanding and accepting God’s love and God’s grace. It means accepting that we are pilgrims and strangers on earth and knowing that our true home is with God.

We cannot expect to have a good relationship with God in the future if we are not developing a good relationship with God in the present. We cannot expect to recognise Jesus when he comes in glory, if we have not spent time getting to know the Jesus who came in humility. We cannot expect to be content for eternity if we have not practiced contentment now.

Advent can be an unsettling time. On the one hand it is a season that gives us reassurance that Jesus will return and take us to himself. On the other hand it reminds us of our obligation to be ready. On the one hand it focuses our attention on the love that sent Jesus into the world for our salvation. On the other hand it reminds us Jesus will come again in judgement. On the one hand it echoes a warning to “be prepared”. On the other hand it is a gentle prompt not to neglect those things that will make us ready.

The question is: “how do you want to spend eternity, and what are you doing to prepare for that outcome?”

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.

A gift of love

January 11, 2014

Baptism of our Lord – 2013

Matthew 3:13-17

Marian Free 

In the name of God, Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. Amen.

 Last Sunday I attended a friend’s annual Epiphany party. In the course of the afternoon one of the guests began a discussion about godparents and in particular when the practice of having godparents began. Frankly, I had no idea. I thought that it was probably a late development as, up until the fourth century and even later, whole families, if not whole tribes, were baptised at the same time. It was an all or nothing situation, the head of the family or the king would be converted and the family and the tribe had no choice but to go along. There was no need for anyone to make promises for the children who would have had no say, then or in the future, as to whether they were Christian or not. As they grew up, it would simply have been a part of their identity. They would have absorbed by osmosis what it meant and their own children would have likewise been brought up in the faith of those around them

 An examination of that great source of wisdom and knowledge – the internet – revealed that I was wrong. Apparently, the equivalent of godparents came into being as early as the second century when parents made the confession of faith on the part of their child and were charged with their children’s spiritual upbringing. St Augustine allowed for exceptions to that practice, but apparently within a hundred years the exception had become the rule – parents were no longer allowed to sponsor their children for baptism.  However the relationship of a godparent  to the child was considered as close as that of a parent. This can be seen in the practice from the fifth century when baptismal sponsors were called “commaters” and “compaters” – co parents whose relationship to the child was considered sufficiently close that they were forbidden from marrying them.

Until recently, most children in this country were baptised. There was an assumption that this was a Christian country and that even those who rarely attended church were Christians and that their children should be formally identified as such. For some, there lay behind this practice a belief that a child who was not baptised would go to purgatory or to hell, but for many baptism was simply part of the culture of the day. Fear is no longer a driving force and in our time a great many people who no longer have any connection to the church, or who do not profess the faith, have come to the conclusion that baptism is at best unnecessary and at worst hypocritical.

The church has also undergone a change. Far from wanting to rescue so many innocents from the clutches of the devil, the church has had conversation after conversation about the practice of infant baptism and whether or not children of non-practicing families should be baptised. Some churches, including some Anglican congregations insist that parents attend church for a minimum number of weeks and attend classes before their child is accepted for baptism. The purpose of this is to ensure that the parents take their commitment seriously and that they will have some knowledge of the faith that they will claim to profess. Sadly this practice has led to a feeling of rejection and alienation among those who have felt that their good intentions were rejected when they were genuinely trying to do the right thing by their child.

Baptism as a form of initiation appears to be a Christian innovation. There is no evidence of a practice of baptism in Judaism. Purity laws meant that believers regularly had ritual baths to purify  themselves, but there is little to suggest that converts to the faith were washed or baptised. The Greek word Βαπτίζω simply means to wash. Jews washed away their impurities, but did not extend this practice to include the initiation of new believers.  John the Baptist appears to have taken the practice of ritual cleansing to a new level –  the idea of washing away sins and renewing of one’s relationship with God was unique to him.

Jesus’ baptism by John was controversial for at least two reasons. It was impossible for the Gospel writers to believe that Jesus had any sins to be washed away and it was equally impossible to imagine that John’s stature was such that it would warrant his baptizing Jesus. For both these reasons Jesus’ baptism seems to have been a cause of embarrassment for the authors of Matthew and John. Matthew tries to explain Jesus’ baptism away telling us that the Baptist insisted that Jesus should baptise him, to which Jesus responds that it is “proper for us to fulfill all righteousness”. John’s gospel does not mention Jesus’ baptism at all. However it clear that Jesus did seek and did receive baptism from John.

It is probably because Jesus himself was baptised that the early church adopted the practice as its form of initiation even though Jesus himself baptised no one. We have only a few New Testament references to baptism. Some scholars believe that Gal 3:28 is a baptism formula: “In Christ there is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female” and Romans 6 uses the language of dying and rising with Christ. We heard in today’s reading from the Book of Acts that water was important for baptism – even though those who heard the message had already been filled with the Holy Spirit.

It is in the Didache (a second century document) that we find the first instructions for Baptism. The Didache tells us that we should baptise in this way. “After explaining all things you should baptise them in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. If you cannot do it in flowing water then do it in cold water, if not in cold then warm. If you have very little water pour it on the head three times in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Before the baptism both the baptizer and the candidate for baptism, plus any others who can, should fast. The candidate should fast for one or two days beforehand.” (The practice of fasting during Lent is an extension of this practice. The whole community would fast in preparation for the baptisms that were to take place at Easter.)

I’m not sure how many people fast before a baptism these days. Certainly, even for those encouraged to attend church for six weeks, the preparation is a far cry from the days when a candidate would spend four years learning the faith before they were accepted for baptism.

Over the centuries, the details of baptism services have differed, but the intent remains the same. Through baptism an individual, or godparents on behalf of that individual, declare an allegiance to the Christian faith and in so doing recognise and accept the place of God in their lives. In this overtly materialist world, those who bring their children for baptism acknowledge that the material world has its limitations and they express a desire to expose their child to the world beyond this world, to give their child an opportunity to see that there is more to life than what can be seen and felt and touched. The children whom we welcome into our faith community are already loved by God. In baptism we acknowledge God’s love for them and formalize their entitlement to that love. We recognise that everyone is loved by God and is a child of God.

Of course, that is only the beginning.  Jesus’ baptism signaled the beginning of his ministry. So too for us – our baptism is a gift that shows its true potential only when we set it free to act in and on us. Baptism is a gift of love that is activated most fully when we respond to that love. If we allow it, if we set it free, God’s love will empower and direct our lives, it will fill us with joy and it will activate our compassion and desire for justice and peace. Knowing our place in the spiritual realm will enable us to sit lightly with this world – not to be tossed about and driven by desire for material possessions, status and wealth.  Conscience of God’s presence always with us, we will face every difficulty with courage and every set back with grace. Having been affirmed as a child of God, we will strive to be worthy of that privilege.

Let our beginning not be our ending. May we, the baptised, give God the freedom to renew and transform us, so that we may become more truly ourselves – set free to love and be loved and to make God’s presence known to all around us.


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