Posts Tagged ‘kings’

Harassed sheep and selfish shepherds

June 13, 2026

Pentecost 3 – 2026

Matthew 9:35-10:8

Marian Free

In the name of God who overturns earthly rulers, subverts earthly values and equips disciples for ministry without distinction. Amen.

I have often struggled with Jesus’ command to the Twelve that they should go nowhere among the Gentiles but only to the lost sheep of Israel. Why, at this point in his ministry is Jesus being parochial and exclusive.

The answer I think may lie in the political subtext. 

We tend to get distracted by images of sheep and shepherding, thinking of the lost sheep and the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep. 

But shepherding in the context of the ancient Near East is a political image. Kings were referred to as shepherds and the symbol of their rule was a shepherd’s crook. While in practice it was rare, the primary responsibility of kings was to guide, protect and care for their subjects. Also kings were seen to be an intermediary between the divine and the people. 

That this was a commonly held view is evidenced in the OT. Moses asks God to raise up someone so that the congregation might not be like sheep without a shepherd. David, king and shepherd was, according to Psalm 78 to tend and guide the sheep – the people of Israel. Sadly, more often than not the kings fail in their role and the prophets castigate them accusing them of being stupid, and of not inquiring of the Lord. As a consequence, the sheep have not prospered and the flock has scattered. (Jeremiah 10:21) When this happens God has to step in to “seek the lost, bring back the strayed, bind up the injured and strengthen the weak (Ezekiel 34:16).

So, when Jesus speaks about sheep without a shepherd, it is highly probable that he calling out the leaders of his time – the religious elite, chosen by Rome, who have aligned themselves with the colonial power and who have become complicit in the social, economic and political abuse of the people. Who rather than tending and nurturing the people have instead exploited and oppressed them and made impossible demands of them. 

Interestingly, nowhere in this gospel does Jesus claim to be a shepherd, but right at the beginning of the gospel Matthew has informed his readers that Jesus is the fulfilment of God’s promise to provide a ruler who will shepherd the God’s people of Israel (Matt 2:5,6).  

Those who are supposed to shepherd Israel have failed so God has raised up someone who will.

Jesus as shepherd/ruler declares his “political” agenda, by proclaiming a different political economy – “the kingdom of heaven” – a kingdom in which justice, freedom and equity will prevail. The kingdom he announces upends the ideas of kingdom which prevail – that in which there are rulers and ruled, rich and poor, advantaged and disadvantaged, powerful and powerless. Not only that, but he also completely subverts the notion of shepherd or ruler. To begin with, Jesus shepherds as God would shepherd. He takes to himself none of the privileges of ruler. He does not isolate himself in a palace but immerses himself in the lives of the people. He gathers the sheep, seeks the lost, heals, strengthens and raises the flock.

Perhaps more shockingly, in the context of his time Jesus expands the definition of shepherd by appointing twelve to share equally in the role of shepherd. The chosen twelve are not distinct in any way. They have no qualifications, no status, no birth-right nor any other credential that might give them authority, yet Jesus commissions them to shepherd the sheep – not as his lieutenants, but as equal partners. He empowers them to do everything that he has done and will continue to do. They are sent out to “to proclaim the good news, that the kingdom of heaven has come near and empowered to cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons.”

Further evidence of the redefinition or reclamation of the language of shepherd is Jesus’ injunction that as they received without payment so they should give without payment. In order words, their newly received authority is not something to be used for their own advantage, nor is it an excuse to lord it over others. They are commanded to be vulnerable and dependent in the same way that Jesus has made himself vulnerable and dependent. For only in this way will they avoid the traps that come with authority – the temptations to exert authority, to exploit others for their own advantage or to seek to enrich and protect themselves.

Understanding that Jesus’ political agenda is to challenge and replace the shepherds who are derelict in the duty and to show compassion to the harassed and helpless sheep may help us to make sense of the jarring language of 10 v 6 “go nowhere among the gentiles, go rather to the lost sheep of Israel.” The role of the shepherd is to attend to the flock, the flock which at this point in time is not being shepherded by those whose responsibility it is.

Elsewhere however, Matthew makes it quite clear that Jesus’ overall programme is to expand the kingdom to open it to all people. This is heralded by the visit of the Gentile magi, reinforced by the quote from Isaiah that Jesus will proclaim justice to the Gentiles and bring them hope in his name (Matthew 12:18-21) and reinforced by the risen Jesus’ great commission when he sends the disciples out to make disciples of all the nations (28:19). Shepherding the few will become shepherding all. What offered to one nation will now be open to all comers.

In our increasingly fractured world, there are many who are feeling harassed and helpless, vulnerable and unwelcome, lost and alone. We are called to be shepherds, not of a few, but of all. Through our baptism we are commissioned to proclaim the good news, to heal the sick, to seek out the lost and to do everything without favour or distinction and with no expectation of reward.

Following a star – taking risks

January 4, 2025

Epiphany – 2025

Matthew 2:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God, tantalisingly mysterious, and always out of reach. Amen.

“If the wise men gave Jesus gold, why was he poor?” This was a question that my great nephew posed recently. My sister deferred to me for an answer. I confess that I was stumped. In over 50 years of teaching Sunday School and Religious Education and over 30 years of preaching, no one has ever wondered (aloud) what happened to the gifts of the magi. Scholars have pondered over the number of the magi (we know there were three gifts, but not how many magi there were) and have speculated on their role in Matthew’s story. Song writers have given meaning to the gifts and names to three magi, but to date I do not recall anyone wondering what happened to the gifts.  

The magi are exotic and unfamiliar.  They appear only in the account of the birth of Jesus but are never mentioned again.  There are tantalisingly few details to the story. We know almost nothing about these three strangers, where they came from, whether they knew each other before their journey, or why they noticed the star (when no one else appeared to see it). We are not told how they got to Jerusalem, and then to Bethlehem.  Did they travel by foot, by donkey or by camel?  Not knowing from where they came, we do not know whether or where they stopped on the way. We assume they were well off because they have treasure chests, but we have no idea how well off. If they were wealthy, did they arrive with a retinue of servants and if so, were there places in ancient that could accommodate large numbers of important guests?

The magi capture our imagination simply because they are mysterious. They have access to secret knowledge, they not only notice, but they understand the meaning of a new star in the sky, and they are in possession of treasure chests of rare and wonderous gifts – gold, frankincense and myrrh. They appear out of nowhere and then disappear out of view. 

It is only Matthew who mentions the magi and the star, and he tells us only what he wants us to know.  We want to know so much more. Instead of trying to understand Matthew’s purpose in including the magi in the story, we are tempted to focus on the details – the missing details. In art and song, theology and story we have named three of the magi – Caspar, Melchior, Balthasar – have given them countries of origin – Arabia, Persia and India and have built legends around them. Matthew’s expression “magi” (Gk magous), meaning wise man or magician can make us uncomfortable. So based on Old Testament texts like those we’ve read this morning, we are tempted to call them kings. Alternatively, we try to give definition to the notion of “wise men” – suggesting that they were astrologers, philosophers, students of the mysterious, or the intellectuals and scientists of their times. 

The truth is that we do not know any more than Matthew chooses to tell us and Matthew tells us only what he wants us to know. Matthew did not envisage that his magi would delight his readers to the point that they would build myths around them. Matthew’s intention was that the magi, and their visit to the Christ child would (rather like the star) point us to the deeper meaning of their presence in the story. If we focus on why the magi are part of the story, we will see that that they play a number of roles, roles that both inform and challenge our faith.

In no particular order: 

  1. The magi study the scriptures and pay attention to the changes in the world around them. They discern that a change in the heavens suggests that the divine is at work in the world.
  2. The magi are open to God’s action in the world and do not limit their understanding of God to a narrow, formulaic, static vision of the divine. They see the possibility that God might be known in ways they have not yet experienced or thought of. 
  3. The magi have the courage to step out of their comfort zone, to take risks of faith, to follow a sign even though they do not know where it will lead.
  4. The magi pay attention to the voice of the divine communicating through a dream. 
  5. The magi contribute to Matthew’s desire to demonstrate that Jesus is the fulfilment of prophecy; “so it has been written by the prophet” he claims of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem.
  6. The magi introduce Matthew’s intention to defend the inclusion of the Gentiles in the emerging church. (Even though he will have Jesus say to the disciples: “Go only to the lost sheep of Israel.”) In this, the most Jewish of the gospels, Matthew begins and ends with those outside the fold. Here at the beginning, these non-Jewish magi seek Jesus out and pay homage to him. As the gospel concludes Jesus will send the disciples out into every nation.
  7. The magi identify Jesus as the “King of the Jews”, the title which will be given to him by Pilate on the cross. At the same time, their presence sets the scene for conflict. Another king in Palestine, however legitimate, will create divided loyalties, something that cannot be tolerated in Caesar’s Empire.
  8. The magi give to Jesus gifts that are precious and rare (and which may have the deeper meaning that have since been attributed to them.)

Our fascination with these mysterious and wondrous characters is intended to encourage us to delve deeper – not to be distracted by creating legends – filling in the gaps with names, professions and countries. Our task is  to ask ourselves what purpose they serve in Matthew’s account, what they have to tell us today, and how might they challenge our own faith lives.

Do we continually study our scripture so that we might see what we have not yet seen? Have we allowed our image of God to become calcified, limited and unchanging? Has our faith become limited by creed and dogma? Can we allow ourselves to believe that just as the ancient faith of the Israelites expanded to include Gentiles, that God might yet have something new in store for us? Are we willing to take steps into the unknown, confident that God will lead us? When we see Jesus are we overwhelmed with joy?

If we answer “no” to any of those questions perhaps it is time to seek out the star and follow wherever it is that God is leading us.

A sovereign like not other

November 16, 2022

The Reign of Christ
Luke 23:33-43
Marian Free

In the name of Christ, whose reign is like nothing we might have imagined. Amen.

Two sovereigns, two very different deaths.

We have witnessed in recent times all the pomp and ceremony that is attached to royalty – at least as it is known in the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth. The passage of the Queen Elizabeth II’s body from Scotland to Westminster, the lying-in state, the respectful crowds, the funeral attended by dignitaries from all over the world and the procession that preceded and followed the funeral were the most amazing spectacle in the best sense of the word. It is difficult to begin to imagine the amount of organisation required for the whole affair to run seamlessly and impossible to imagine how much it all cost.

How different from the death of Jesus – a sham trial, a brutal whipping, mocking guards and jeering crowds, a humiliating procession to the cross and a disgraceful, drawn-out death. As it was the Passover, Jesus’ body was not even afforded the dignity of anointing. The only solemnity afforded this king was the removal of his body from the cross and its burial in a new tomb. A shocking scenario, that seems as far from a royal death as possible. Yet it is here, during Jesus’ trial and subsequent execution, that Jesus is identified as king, and if only in order that charges might be brought against him and the presumed threat that he poses to the church and empire might be eliminated.

The Israelites had hoped for a time in which God would send a king who would restore the splendour and might of David. Such a king would indeed be a threat to the Empire. A king of David’s stature and power would not hesitate (empowered by God) to take on the might of Caesar. Jesus, however, is not that king, which is why the religious leaders do not recognise him for who he is but see him simply as a nuisance. Jesus was born in humble circumstances to very ordinary parents, he lived the life of an itinerant preacher. His choice of followers and his behaviour were not what might be expected of someone who would lead the people of God and who would break the yoke of the oppressor. Jesus is so unlike the expected king, that few recognise that he is indeed the anointed one, the one promised by God.

To most of his contemporaries, and. especially. to the leadership of the church – the Sadducees and Pharisees, Jesus is at best an irritation and at worst a threat. Jesus directly challenges their authority, questions their interpretation of scripture, and refuses to observe purity laws and to disassociate himself from sinners. It is the fact that he bests them in argument and undermines their position that most gets under the skin of the religious leaders. Almost from the beginning of the gospel account, they have been looking for a means to discredit him and to diminish his influence on the crowds. Worse, almost from the start they (the religious leaders) have been looking for an excuse to kill him.

The religious leaders certainly do not believe Jesus to be a king , but when they bring Jesus to Pilate it suits their purpose to accuse Jesus of insurrection – of claiming to be a king when he is not. They know that Pilate will have to take their complaint seriously if they suggest. that Jesus is a threat to Rome. “We found this man perverting our nation, forbidding us to pay taxes to the emperor, and saying that he himself is the anointed one, a king.” Pilate resists condemning Jesus, and finds no evidence against him, yet he succumbs sufficiently to the pressure from the crowds that, according to the inscription above Jesus’ cross, Pilate has Jesus crucified on the basis that he is “King of the Jews.” (Presumably, the religious leaders and the crowds who have bayed for Jesus’ death don’t see the not-so-subtle slur implied by that inscription. Pilate has taken their words and turned them against the crowd. Indeed, Pilate has given the Jews a king – a king who is degraded, powerless, beaten, and naked.)

The irony is that it is here, on the cross, that we learn what sort of king Jesus is – a king who so identified with our condition that he became one of us and one with us. A king who did not seek power and glory but who allowed himself to be crucified rather than raise an army to defeat the Empire. A king who offered forgiveness to those who so barbarously nailed him to the cross and whose compassion compelled him to promise Paradise to the thief who was crucified with him. A king, who above all placed his trust in God and not in himself.

As we enter Advent and begin to focus on the Christ who comes in glory to judge, it is important to remember that the Christ who will come in glory is the Jesus on the cross, and that one who now reigns from heaven is the Christ who still bears the scars of the nails and the mark of the spear.

A crucified king is a contradiction, one that constantly reminds us that Jesus chose our existence and that, however exalted, continues to be intimately aware of our joys and sorrows, our triumphs and failures, our hopes and our fears. A crucified king reminds us that following Jesus does not shield us from heartache, persecution and isolation. A crucified king is a paradox topples our certainties, prevents us from confining Jesus to either to the exalted one or to the humble one and keeps us open to the endless possibilities of who Jesus is.