Posts Tagged ‘Lent’

40 days in the wilderness with Mark

February 17, 2024

Lent 1 – 2024

Mark 1:9-15

Marian Free

In the name of God whose love is our beginning and our end. Amen.

I wonder, if we only had Mark’s account of Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness would our practice of Lent any different? Mark simply tells us: “The Spirit immediately drove him out (literally cast him out) into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.”  There is no mention here of fasting, no reference to Jesus being famished and no elaboration of the temptations. It is Matthew and Luke who fill out the story with details of three specific temptations and of Jesus being hungry.  Interestingly – in their accounts there is no record of wild animals and no reference to the angels ministering to Jesus.

We know from the gospels that fasting was a spiritual practice among the Pharisees in the time of Jesus, but in Mark’s gospel there is no evidence that Jesus himself fasts. In fact, Jesus is asked why his disciples do notfast when the disciples of John the Baptist and the Pharisees fast (Mark 2:18). Jesus may or may not have fasted.

The earliest Christians did fast. Possibly following the tradition of the Pharisees, the first believers fasted on a weekly basis though – as the first century document the Didache makes clear – they were to distinguish themselves from the hypocrites – presumably the Pharisees. In that document, we read that the community should not fast on the days that the hypocrites fast (the second and fifth days of the week,) but on the fourth day and on the day of preparation (Friday). That fasting was an accepted spiritual discipline among Christians by the second century is recorded in a letter written by Irenaeus bemoaning the fact that there was no common practice and that the discipline varied from one day of fasting to as many as 40 days.

Fasting for the forty days before Easter can be traced to the Council of Nicea in 325 CE which formalised the custom – possibly as a way to prepare for baptism. It took much longer for there to be a common practice throughout Christendom. Some places allowed the Lenten fast to be broken on Sundays, others not. Some only fasted from Monday to Friday, meaning that the 40 day fast took place over 8 weeks. In general, meat, fish and dairy were forbidden, as was consuming food before 3pm. During the reign of Pope Gregory the Great, the season of Lent was regularised. It was to begin 46 days before Lent, with a ceremony of ash. Sundays were excluded. During the 9th century the strictures were relaxed somewhat and by the 1800’s the emphasis on one meal a day was relaxed. Traditions and practices continue to evolve, but we maintain the practice established in the seventh century – Ash Wednesday to Easter Day, excluding Sundays.

To return to where I began, if we only had Mark’s gospel I wonder if it would make a difference to our Lenten observance?

It seems to me that there are four parts to Jesus’ experience as reported by Mark. First, we are told that Jesus was cast out, or thrown out into the wilderness. In other words, Jesus allowed himself to be tossed about by the Spirit. He didn’t fight the Spirit’s leading, no matter how uncomfortable it made him, or how unpleasant it seemed. Second, in the wilderness Jesus was tempted by Satan. Mark doesn’t elaborate on this point, but his gospel depicts a power play between Satan and God. Jesus now (and throughout his ministry) resists the temptation to rely on anything and anyone but God. 

Third, and this is perhaps the most difficult to make sense of – Jesus was with the wild animals. There is no suggestion that Jesus is in any kind of danger here so perhaps Mark means us to understand that in the wilderness Jesus identified himself wholly with all of God’s creation – the creation with whom God has made a covenant (as the reading from Genesis tells us (Gen 9:8-10)).[1]

Finally, Mark tells us that Jesus was ministered to by the angels. Out there in wilderness Jesus allowed God’s representatives to care for him. He didn’t need to assert his independence and he didn’t need to prove how strong-willed he was because he knew that God would take care of everything. 

What might this reading of Mark mean for us and for our observance of the 40 days before Easter?

In the first instance, we might allow Mark’s account re-frame the way that we see the season. Instead of seeing Lent as a time of penance and self-sacrifice, we might grasp opportunity to allow ourselves to be led by (tossed about by) the Spirit – as terrifying as that might be. 

In a world which places a premium on independence and self-reliance, we could learn to serve not ourselves (Satan), but God.  

In a world in which we have used the earth for our benefit and for which we are now paying the price, we might take a page out of Jesus’ experience in the wilderness and understand that we are part of, not apart from all creation, that working with and not against creation will be better for us and lead to the healing of the world.  

And finally, and for some of us the most difficult, we might use these 40 days to truly allow ourselves to trust in God’s unbounding love for us, accept that we are worthy of that love and in so doing permit the angels themselves to care for us. 

Mark’s account of Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness frees us to let go of any striving to be good, encourages us to abandon our attempts to punish ourselves for our shortcomings and allows us to stop using self-denial to prove how strong or how disciplined we are. It enables us to understand that Lent is less about what we do for God, and more about what we let God do to and with us. 

Our Lenten observances are based on the scriptures and moulded by centuries of tradition – that doesn’t prevent us from looking at it anew and seeing what Mark has to teach us. 

This Lent – Are we willing for the Spirit to toss us about? Can we let go our need to rely on ourselves? Do we understand that we are integrally related with all creation? And, can we accept that we are entirely worthy of God’s love?


[1] This is the suggestion of Dr Margaret Wesley who draws on today’s reading from Genesis to the effect that God has made a covenant with all creation.

What is temptation?

February 25, 2023

Lent 1 – 2023 (Notes)
Matthew 4:1-11
Marian Free

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

I wonder what comes to your mind when you think of sin? I know a number of people who associate sin with breaking one of the Ten Commandments. A phrase that I have often heard is: ‘I don’t need to come to church, I am a good person, I don’t break the Ten Commandments.” When they say this, they are usually referring to the last six of the Ten Commandments – those that refer to murder, lying, adultery, murder, envy, honouring one’s parents and stealing. The problem with this attitude is twofold. Firstly, the these six commandments are relatively easy for most of us to keep. Secondly, they are the ground rules for living together in relative harmony. They are not unique to the Judea-Christian tradition, but are common to most cultures.
It is the first four commandments that are challenging and which people who consider themselves to be ‘good, Christian people’ seem to overlook. ‘I am the Lord your God, you shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself an idol. You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God. Remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy.’ The first four commandments have to do with our relationship with God, the last six, with our relationships with each other. The first four demand an exclusive relationship with the God who brought the Israelites out of Egypt, loyalty to the one true God. The others have to do with our relationships with each other. One could go so far as to argue that it is only the former that have to do with faith. The latter are common sense, practical rules to guide our lives together. (Going to church is not a prerequisite for keeping them.)
Unfortunately, the institution of the church has contributed to this oversimplified view of sin. Many of us grew up in a church culture that emphasised goodness over faithfulness. We were led to believe that God wanted us to behave and not taught that what God really wants is to be in relationship with us. This has led to a trivialisation of ‘sin’; a belief that ‘sin’ is misbehaviour and that earning God’s approval is a matter of being good, keeping the rules. As long as we don’t commit the big ticket crimes, we can assure ourselves that God is happy with us and that all is well with the world.
‘Sin’ properly understood is separation from, or competition with, God. This is clear from the very beginning. The first sin, that of eating the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, was just that – wanting to be like God, wanting to be God. There is only one tree forbidden to Adam and Eve. It is not the tree of life, but the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. As the serpent points out if they eat of the fruit of that tree: “You will not die; or God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:4,5). The first sin, was was not so much simple disobedience, it was the desire to be God, a desire that is played out again when the Hebrew people build the Tower of Babel.
Murder is a crime, lying, stealing and adultery hurt those whom we deceive or rob, envy eats away at us and failure to honour those who gave us life is a particular sort of selfishness, but believing that we can be God, failing to trust God (creating another kind of security net), or looking for quick fixes are the real sins that separate us from God and ultimately from each other.
These are the temptations that Jesus faces in the wilderness. Jesus is not tempted to steal or lie or to commit adultery. There is no little devil on his shoulder suggesting that he have a second helping of chocolate pudding (or some other trivial test of his character or will power). Jesus is being tempted to give in to those parts of his human nature that would destroy his relationship with God – pride, self-sufficiency and a desire for personal power. If he were to change stones into bread – which of course he could do – he would be demonstrating a reliance on himself rather than trust in God. If he were to throw himself off the steeple, he would be revealing that he saw God as a ‘rescuer’, a deliverer of ‘quick fixes’. If he were to bow down and worship the devil, he would be implying that God was not sufficient.
The temptations in the wilderness had nothing to do with our normal understanding of temptation, but with sin in the true sense of the word – separation from, distrust of and competition with God.
The three temptations can be summed up as: Stones into bread – ‘I can do it! (I don’t need God)’, throwing oneself off the cliff – God is only any good, when God performs miracles and, bowing before Satan – real power doesn’t belong to God.
This Lent, when you think again about what you might give up, what temptations your might resist think of the temptations faced by Jesus and ask yourself not whether or not you will be tempted to eat chocolate, but whether, put to the test, you would hold firm in your faith and resist the lure of self-sufficiency, quick fixes and ‘easy’ power.

What is temptation?

February 25, 2023

Lent 1 – 2023 (Notes)
Matthew 4:1-11
Marian Free

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

I wonder what comes to your mind when you think of sin? I know a number of people who associate sin with breaking one of the Ten Commandments. A phrase that I have often heard is: ‘I don’t need to come to church, I am a good person, I don’t break the Ten Commandments.” When they say this, they are usually referring to the last six of the Ten Commandments – those that refer to murder, lying, adultery, murder, envy, honouring one’s parents and stealing. The problem with this attitude is twofold. Firstly, the these six commandments are relatively easy for most of us to keep. Secondly, they are the ground rules for living together in relative harmony. They are not unique to the Judea-Christian tradition, but are common to most cultures.
It is the first four commandments that are challenging and which people who consider themselves to be ‘good, Christian people’ seem to overlook. ‘I am the Lord your God, you shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself an idol. You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God. Remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy.’ The first four commandments have to do with our relationship with God, the last six, with our relationships with each other. The first four demand an exclusive relationship with the God who brought the Israelites out of Egypt, loyalty to the one true God. The others have to do with our relationships with each other. One could go so far as to argue that it is only the former that have to do with faith. The latter are common sense, practical rules to guide our lives together. (Going to church is not a prerequisite for keeping them.)
Unfortunately, the institution of the church has contributed to this oversimplified view of sin. Many of us grew up in a church culture that emphasised goodness over faithfulness. We were led to believe that God wanted us to behave and not taught that what God really wants is to be in relationship with us. This has led to a trivialisation of ‘sin’; a belief that ‘sin’ is misbehaviour and that earning God’s approval is a matter of being good, keeping the rules. As long as we don’t commit the big ticket crimes, we can assure ourselves that God is happy with us and that all is well with the world.
‘Sin’ properly understood is separation from, or competition with, God. This is clear from the very beginning. The first sin, that of eating the fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, was just that – wanting to be like God, wanting to be God. There is only one tree forbidden to Adam and Eve. It is not the tree of life, but the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. As the serpent points out if they eat of the fruit of that tree: “You will not die; or God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:4,5). The first sin, was was not so much simple disobedience, it was the desire to be God, a desire that is played out again when the Hebrew people build the Tower of Babel.
Murder is a crime, lying, stealing and adultery hurt those whom we deceive or rob, envy eats away at us and failure to honour those who gave us life is a particular sort of selfishness, but believing that we can be God, failing to trust God (creating another kind of security net), or looking for quick fixes are the real sins that separate us from God and ultimately from each other.
These are the temptations that Jesus faces in the wilderness. Jesus is not tempted to steal or lie or to commit adultery. There is no little devil on his shoulder suggesting that he have a second helping of chocolate pudding (or some other trivial test of his character or will power). Jesus is being tempted to give in to those parts of his human nature that would destroy his relationship with God – pride, self-sufficiency and a desire for personal power. If he were to change stones into bread – which of course he could do – he would be demonstrating a reliance on himself rather than trust in God. If he were to throw himself off the steeple, he would be revealing that he saw God as a ‘rescuer’, a deliverer of ‘quick fixes’. If he were to bow down and worship the devil, he would be implying that God was not sufficient.
The temptations in the wilderness had nothing to do with our normal understanding of temptation, but with sin in the true sense of the word – separation from, distrust of and competition with God.
The three temptations can be summed up as: Stones into bread – ‘I can do it! (I don’t need God)’, throwing oneself off the cliff – God is only any good, when God performs miracles and, bowing before Satan – real power doesn’t belong to God.
This Lent, when you think again about what you might give up, what temptations your might resist think of the temptations faced by Jesus and ask yourself not whether or not you will be tempted to eat chocolate, but whether, put to the test, you would hold firm in your faith and resist the lure of self-sufficiency, quick fixes and ‘easy’ power.

Being truly oneself is to be truly God’s

February 6, 2021

Epiphany 5 – 2021

Mark 1:29-39

Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, in whose eyes we are perfect. Amen.

When I was a child, children used to receive prizes for being the most regular attendees at Sunday School. The prizes were always books. I don’t remember how many I received, but I have clear memories of two. One was the biblical story of Ruth and the other told a story of Jesus as a little boy – as a good and obedient child. I have no idea what the content of the latter was, but one of the illustrations has stuck in my memory. Over time, the image may have shifted a little, but in essence it is the same. There is a woman in a kitchen with a child at her feet. For some reason, I remember the woman dressed in clothes that were fashionable in the 1950’s but I may have added that detail.  What I am sure of is that the toys with which the child was playing included painted wooden blocks and other toys that would have been popular in my childhood – but not in the time of Jesus. 

As an adult, influenced by that book, I searched the gospels in vain for stories of Jesus as a child. Surely, somewhere in the gospels there was evidence to back up the story. No. The only record that we have of Jesus before he begins his ministry is the account of the twelve-year-old in the Temple where, like any adolescent, he is presuming an independence beyond his years and causing his parents great anxiety.[1]

According to the canonical gospels, Jesus simply bursts on the scene after John begins preaching repentance and baptising penitents in the river Jordan. Apart from Luke’s account of Jesus’ precocious wisdom, there is no record of his childhood, his adolescence or his early adult years. Mark’s gospel simply tells us that he was a carpenter (or craftsman) and Matthew’s gospel only that he was the son of a carpenter. Beyond that we have no actual details. Based on the gospels we can conjecture that Jesus’ ability to argue with the Pharisees implies that he was well-versed in the Hebrew scriptures and we can speculate he regularly attended the synagogue. The fact that his early ministry was based in Galilee suggests that he didn’t travel far as a young man and the fact that he was in Capernaum when he called the four fishermen leads to the conclusion that he was resident there at that time. His baptism by John hints that he was one of John’s followers before he struck out on his own.

We can, I think, also conjecture that Jesus was his own person, that he was completely self-contained. Whatever his childhood was like, it seems that he grew into someone who was comfortable in his own skin and who did not need to be affirmed by the externals of power, wealth or appreciation. The evidence for this is compelling. Jesus was not afraid to speak his mind – even when to do so meant making enemies. He did not seek recognition, praise or affirmation even though that would have some easily. He did what was right with no expectation that he would be rewarded, and he gave himself completely without expecting anything in return.

From the very beginning of his ministry, Jesus made it quite clear that he was not and would not be dependent on externals to give his life meaning, or even to help him gather a following. So, when Satan tempted him in the wilderness, Jesus did not give in to the allure of power, showmanship or material gain. He did not need any of these things because he did not feel the need to prove himself to anyone. Jesus knew who he was and knew who he was before God.  Jesus’ confidence, his sense of self, came – not from anything he had or anything that he could do – but from a relationship with God that gave him the certain knowledge that he was valued and loved. This informed everything that he did. Jesus’ relationship with God meant that he was secure in himself. He was liberated from any need to feel important, freed from any desire to have power or control over others (or even over himself) and he did not require possessions, achievements or even followers to reassure himself of his own worth. 

Today’s gospel is a perfect example of Jesus’ self-assurance, of his commitment to his mission and not to his own aggrandisement and of his unwillingness to create a movement that was centred on him[2]. Mark’s gospel began with demonstrations of Jesus’ authority and power. Jesus had taught with authority, he had rebuked a demon, healed Peter’s mother-in-law, cured many and cast out many demons. By any account that would be enough to draw a crowd and to form a popular movement. It would have been so easy for Jesus to stay where he was, basking in adulation and enjoying his popularity. It certainly would have been safer. But when Jesus’ disciples tell him that “everyone is searching for him”, he insists that the good news must be proclaimed elsewhere and he, with them, moves on.  

Jesus understood that his role was to liberate, heal and restore others, not to promote or to advantage himself.

As we approach Lent, we are challenged to place our own lives under the microscope – to fast from, or free ourselves from those things on which we have become dependent. I can think of no better place to start than considering how reliant we are on the good opinion of others or how much our sense of worth is tied up in what we own and what we have achieved or how dependent we are on having control over our own lives or worse, over the lives of others.

Jesus knew who he was and knew that he was valued by God. This liberated him to think of others and not himself. If we are to truly follow Jesus, we too need to find that inner sense of worth that frees us from striving for recognition, for influence or personal gain.

Jesus freed himself from everything that might constrain and limit his ministry and his relationship with others. I wonder what we might decide to let go of this Lent? 


[1] In “The Infancy Gospel of Thomas” the child Jesus not only heals and raises from the dead, but he also strikes down (dead) those who disagree with or provoke him. The child Jesus in this gospel is disrespectful not only to his parents but also to his teachers. It is unlikely that we would want to include in our canon something that describes Jesus as a punitive, vindictive child which makes us think that the Gospel is just that “apocryphal”.

[2] Remember too, that before Jesus does anything else, he chooses others to share his ministry. Jesus was never a “one-man band”.

Until we meet again

March 20, 2020

Lent 4 – 2020– the day on which we closed the church for the first time in 100 years
John 9:1-41
Marian Free

In the name of God who sustains us through the darkness of night to the dawn of a new day. Amen.

COVID 19 is anything but funny, but there are a number of people who are refusing to lose their sense of humour and who are bringing smiles to our faces. On Facebook a couple of weeks ago someone posted the statement: “I didn’t think I’d have to give up this much for Lent.” Those of us who have decided to forgo alcohol or chocolate during Lent, are now giving up, or being forced to give up, our social activities and our food choices are limited by the panic buying of others. “I didn’t think I’d have to give up this much for Lent.”

Today as we gather in person for the last time for who knows how long, Lent provides the most apt metaphor for this experience. For the sake of each other and for the safety of our community we are being asked to give up something that for many of us is our life-blood – the nourishment through Word and Sacrament that sustains us and the community that supports us.

For most of us these are unprecedented times and the virus is only a part of it. We ourselves do not yet know the effect of having the virus or knowing someone who has it, but we cannot be unaware of the economic strain that physical separation is being faced by a great number of our community, including, I imagine many of you. Employers are reluctantly letting go of casual staff as they face the possibility that their own source of income has dried up. Those who work in businesses that require close proximity to their clients will have to close their doors. People who have never been out of work may find themselves at Centre-link and those who rely on the stock market are finding their incomes drastically reduced.

Socially and personally there are costs. As Aged Care Centres go into lock-down, families are separated from loved ones who may be past the stage of using social media – if they ever could and are finding themselves unable to offer the care that they would wish to. In this Parish we are having to put into recess some of the activities that connect lonely and vulnerable people with the wider community. Social isolation for those who live alone or the pressure of spending more time with each other for those who don’t will undoubtedly have serious consequences.

For many it is already a time of anxiety on many fronts and for some recovery might be slow and long. We must pray daily that those who are suffering financially, physically or socially are given the resources to survive and the strength to continue.

And still, we are among the lucky ones. We live in a country with a well-resourced health system, and a stable government. The inconveniences and losses we will experience cannot compare with those of the millions who are languishing in refugee camps or living in war zones with little food and little to no medical support.

It causes me great sadness to forbid you to come to worship, but I have come to see that this is a novel and extraordinary way to spend Lent, even if it is a longer Lent than we had expected. A time of separation from those things that sustain us, a time in the wilderness is a gift that we don’t often allow ourselves in the midst of our day-to-day lives. Now that we are being forced to stay away from our usual social and spiritual activities, we have an opportunity connect with God at an even deeper level and to reaffirm our trust in God through good times and through bad.

It is true that we probably won’t be able to gather for Good Friday this year, but that will make it the most extraordinary and profound Good Friday ever – going without the one thing that really makes it Good Friday! We don’t need to be here to intentionally stop and reflect on that moment when God seemed truly absent. The loss and grief of being unable to gather in this place will help us to share Jesus’ cry: “My God, my God, why?!” and to reflect on Jesus’ willingness to give up everything so that we might have life.

And Easter – what will it be like to celebrate Easter without gathering together to sing those wonderful triumphant hymns that are a reminder that we have pulled through the darkness to the light on the other side? It may feel so empty and even joyless, but I would encourage you to think of this as an extended Lent that will end when the crisis is deemed to be over. Then what celebrations will there be! Easter and new life will never have seemed so real and we will affirm for another year that: “Jesus lives! Thy terrors now can no more O death enthrall us!” and join in singing other hymns that assert Jesus’ victory over the grave.

This is an unusual moment in time and your clergy team, your wardens and Parish council will do all that we can to support you through it.

My friends be strong, be careful, care for each other, be safe and above all keep the faith until we meet again to proclaim the new life that awaits, to remind ourselves that nothing, not even death, can separate us from the love of God and that not even the grave could contain Jesus our Saviour and our friend.

Authenticity

March 9, 2019

Lent 1 – 2019

Luke 4:1-15

Marian Free

In the name of God who, in Jesus, became totally vulnerable and totally accessible. Amen.

For a while there was a trend among writers and journalists to write searingly honest accounts about parenthood. Articles and columns were written, and books published by new parents, mostly mothers, who took it upon themselves to debunk the myths around parenthood. As I remember most of the authors were people who came to parenting later in life. They had established careers, bought homes and developed reasonably comfortable lifestyles and patterns of existence. None seemed to expect the enormous disruption that a new born child would bring. They had been led to believe all the positives – the flood of love that threatens to overwhelm you and the delights of watching as your child reveals her personality. They had bought “sales talk” of being able to establish a routine, the ability to work around baby’s naptime and the notion that if you do everything right your beautiful baby will fit right into your lifestyle!

When confronted with the reality of babies who don’t settle, whose crying interrupts dinner with friends and who refuse to settle into any sort of fixed pattern, such writers discover that their lives are completely upended and that, among other things, continuing their writing is near impossible. As a consequence of their surprise and unpreparedness they put pen to paper to share their experience and to prepare any other unsuspecting parents-to-be.

(At least this is how I imagine the events that lead to the articles.)

In some way the authors of these biographies felt that their families, their friends and society at large had undersold the difficulties of child-rearing, had put on a positive face despite the difficulties they themselves had confronted and had created an image that a baby would only enrich one’s life and that any down-sides were easily managed if only one used the right techniques.

I can understand how such false views are perpetrated and, if I am honest, I can own my own part in creating an image of trouble-free parenting. As a first (and second) time mother I attended my local playgroup with a number of my peers. Topics of conversation included sleeping through the night, potty training, and other riveting topics. In that situation, in which everyone else seemed to be succeeding at parenting, I found it difficult to admit that my elder child was not yet toilet trained and that my younger child screamed for two hours after every feed, no matter what I did. In that situation, observers could have been excused for believing that I was coping with motherhood and that my children were behaving in the same way as the other children in the group. Of course, unknown to me, there may have been another mother in my group who had difficulties of her own. If I had had the courage to be vulnerable and imperfect, I would have given her permission to acknowledge her own frustrations and concerns.

In the poem “Ash Wednesday” T.S. Elliot prays:

“Blessèd sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,

Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood”

“Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood.” Elliot recognises that self-deceit, self-delusion is an impediment to authentic relationships. Deception leads to hurt, mistrust, confusion and even anger. As long as we endeavour to hide our real selves and our real experiences, no one will trust us with theirweaknesses and we build a society based not on the truth, but on a collective myth which results in everyone is trying to be someone whom they are not.

Honesty and authenticity inspire trust, allow others to be vulnerable and create relationships which give permission for each person be open and transparent about their own struggles and imperfections. In situations of trust we can share with each other our difficulties in parenting, our anxieties in the work place or even the violence of our spouses. The world would be a better place if we broke down the images of perfection that we try to create and, by being vulnerable ourselves, make a space in which others can own their imperfections.

When we feel that we have to put on a face, when we are tempted to create a positive image of ourselves or to “be strong” in the face of adversity, we do well to remember that Jesus was open to his weaknesses. After forty days of isolation and fasting all kinds of ideas came to him. After all, he was the Son of God! There was nothing that he could not do! He could turn stones into bread, jump off a cliff with no fear that he would come to harm OR he could use his God-given power to rule the world! Whether we attribute these ideas to an external power (Satan) or to Jesus’ own thought processes, they tell us that Jesus was open to temptation and, though he resisted, he was not so perfect that such ideas did not occur to him. He was vulnerable either to Satan’s influence, or to his own desire for recognition or power. That the story of the temptations is recorded, tells us that Jesus had made it known. Jesus was not afraid to let others know that he too had moments of vulnerability and weakness.

It was Jesus’ humanity that made Jesus so easy to relate to – he got tired, he was frustrated with the disciples’ lack of understanding and he was infuriated by the practices of the Pharisees. In turn the disciples felt free to be themselves – confused, foolish and seeking to be first.

Jesus’ relationship with the disciples and theirs with him was authentic and real. Jesus was fully himself as were the disciples. Neither thought less of the other for having human failings and fears, doubts and confusions.

“Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood.” Self-deceit not only damages and limits our relationships with one another, it also restricts our personal development and constrains our spiritual growth. As long as we delude ourselves as to who and what we are, we make it impossible to have a relationship with God that is meaningful and real, impossible to learn from our mistakes and impossible to realise our full potential.

This Lent, may we have the courage to relinquish our fear of being exposed, may we trust God and those around us with our true selves and create relationships with God and with one another that are honest and real, life-giving and life-sustaining and in so doing grow into our true selves and enable others to do the same.

 

Children of God, beloved and special

February 17, 2018

Lent 1 – 2018

Mark 1:9-15

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who strengthens us and equips us for all the good and the bad that we might be asked to face. Amen.

Did you notice something missing from today’s gospel? You might have been expecting to hear the details of the three temptations – turning stones into bread, jumping off a cliff and worshipping Satan. These specific details of Jesus’ time in the wilderness (listed by both Luke and Matthew) are missing in Mark’s gospel. They are apparently of little consequence for Mark as he pushes on to reveal Jesus as the Son of God. Probably because Mark’s account is so stark, the lectionary writers have included Jesus’ baptism in today’s gospel. This creates an interesting juxtaposition: baptism followed by temptation, public repentance followed by private battles within, a declaration that Jesus is the Son of God, followed by Jesus being driven into the wilderness.

If we read the account of the baptism on its own without understanding the consequences it becomes a wonderful affirmation of Jesus. Though Jesus alone sees and hears, the events that accompany Jesus’ baptism are quite extraordinary. The heavens are literally torn apart, the Spirit descends as if a dove and Jesus hears the voice of God from heaven: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” It must have been both an inspiring and terrifying moment. Jesus heard God assuring him that he was doing the right thing and that his relationship with God was of the highest order, Father and Son.

Why then does the Spirit (note: not the devil) immediately drive Jesus out into the wilderness – that godless, inhospitable and unforgiving place – to be tempted by Satan and threatened by wild animals? To experience both physical and spiritual adversity? At first sight, it seems to be back-to-front. Doesn’t it make more sense that Jesus would want to repent after a time of reflection and temptation? Doesn’t make more sense for Jesus to be tested before God tears apart the heavens and sends the Spirit upon him? Doesn’t it seem that it would be more prudent for God to have been certain that Jesus was ready the task before he took the radical step of affirming him as God’s Son? I wonder, what would have happened if Jesus had failed the test? Could God take the Son thing back?

Two things help us to make sense of the order of events as they are presented. The first is the parallel between Jesus’ experience and that of Israel. Before God led the people of Israel out of Egypt into the wilderness, God declared that Israel was God’s Son. God thus affirmed the status of Israel and, through the cloud and the fiery pillar, God provided proof that God would provide for them and would never desert them. Yet, despite such assurance, Israel grumbled against God and relied on their own resources to the extent of making their own gods thus demonstrating that they had little to no faith in God’s promises.

When Jesus is declared to be God’s Son and led into the wilderness he places his trust entirely in God, he refuses to rely on his own resources or to put God to the test. As a result Jesus is able to withstand the privations of the desert and as a result is “ministered to by the angels”. Jesus did what Israel could not – he believed not that God would spare him from trouble, but that when trouble came his way he could rely on God to provide the strength to see him through.

We better understand the order of events when we remember that throughout Jesus’ ministry, he will face hostility and opposition – from demons, from the authorities, from his family and even from his disciples. Jesus’ journey, once begun, will lead only to suffering and the cross. At Jesus’ baptism then, God gives Jesus the resources that he will need for whatever lies ahead – the absolute assurance that he is God’s Son and the implied assurance that, whatever lies ahead, God will be with him. The wilderness is a sign of what is to come. Jesus begins his ministry with the endorsement of God’s love and approval ringing in his ears – an endorsement that sustains him in the wilderness and throughout the challenges and threats that dog his ministry.

At our Baptism we are told: “the promises of God are signed and sealed for us.” And we are assured of the gift of the Holy Spirit. These are not empty words, but gifts to sustain us through thick and thin. They are gifts that assure us that God will be with us every step of the way: sustaining us, encouraging us and equipping us to face whatever dangers, griefs or hardships that might come our way.

Lent, our time in the wilderness, need not be a time of self-flagellation, a time of reminding ourselves how far we fall short or a time of stressing about what we need to do to be holier or kinder, more loving or more patient. Lent can be a time of letting go, a time for reminding ourselves that we can place our trust completely in God, that we can rely on God to be there in our times of need and that we can trust God to hold us up when we feel that we can go no further.

No one can predict what life will throw at us. The question is not whether we will have wilderness experiences, but whether our confidence in God is sufficient to see us through. May this Lent be for us all a time to renew our trust in God, to make peace with the lives that we have and to believe that whatever happens God has, waiting for us, an eternity that is beyond our capacity to imagine.

Lent is liberation

February 14, 2018

Lent is Liberation

Ash Wednesday – 2018

Marian Free

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

 Last night a few of us gathered to share fellowship and pancakes. The discussion drifted to the question of Lent and what one should give up. There followed a time of sharing our ideas and our practices – giving up and taking up. I was somewhat taken aback when my husband took up his glass of bubbles and suggested that he could take up having a drink and reflecting on his relationship with God. On reflection I realised that there was no reason why this should not be included as a Lenten discipline. If the goal of Lent is to deepen our relationship with God and to reflect on our lives and our shortcomings, then it is important to become less straight-laced and to allow people to think outside the box!

As I further reflected, it occurred to me that a theme for Lent this year could be: “Lent is Liberation”. Lent is liberation from the possessions that chain us and from the feelings that prevent us from moving forward. In this new light, the readings set for today support this view.

Lent is liberation from selfishness and greed, liberation to bring joy and peace and hope to others – that in turn brings joy and peace and hope to ourselves.

Lent is liberation from all the negativity in our lives and liberation to recognise the goodness around us, the possibilities that exist and God’s presence in anything and everything. Paul – that expert in reversal – captures this idea when he reminds that being poor we make many rich, being unknown we are known, and dying yet we live.

Lastly Lent is liberation from hypocrisy, egoism and self-centredness, all that desires the focus to be on ourselves.

Lent is the absolute liberation, joy and wonder of being ourselves – unfettered, unmasked, wanting for nothing but totally content in and reliant on our relationship with God.

May you have a fruitful and constructive Lent.

Imperfect though we are, we are part of God’s story

March 11, 2017

Lent 2 – 2017

John 3:1-17

Marian Free

In the name of God overlooks all our shortcomings and believes that we have the potential to develop and grow. Amen.

As I said at Rodney’s farewell, none of us will forget Christina the Astonishing – who rose from her coffin and ascended to the ceiling of the church because she couldn’t stand the stench of human sin. Our hagiographies (our stories of saints) are filled with examples of apparently ordinary people who do extraordinary things or who bravely endure unbearable suffering. Think of Joan of Arc who not only led the armies of France in the 100 year war against England, but who with great courage faced being burned at the stake for heresy. Or of Francis of Assisi who gave up comfort, wealth and security to live a life of poverty. Or of Catherine of Alexander whose torture on a cartwheel gave the name to a whirling firework.

In our own time we have the examples of Mother Teresa who gave up everything and who untiringly worked with and for the poor and abandoned on the streets of India. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who saw the evil of the Third Reich and chose to risk his life to confront it. May Hayman and other New Guinea martyrs who chose to stay with their communities in the face of the Japanese advance in WWII rather than return home. Or Janani Luwum who was murdered by Idi Amin simply because he was an Anglican Archbishop.

While some of us might aspire to reach such exalted heights or believe that if it came to it that we would be prepared to give ourselves, our lives for our faith, most of us I suspect do not think that we will come anywhere near the deeds and courage of these and many other holy men and women.

The good news is that we do not have to be perfect to be part of God’s on-going story. We will encounter a number of characters during Lent who will prove that to be true. Nicodemus who is too afraid to meet Jesus openly, the woman who has had five husbands, the parents of the blind man, and the sisters of Lazarus who thought that Jesus had left his visit too late. These flawed, timid, unbelieving people have made it into the story of Jesus, into our Holy Scriptures despite, or perhaps because they are not perfect.

In John’s gospel Nicodemus is the first flawed person whom we meet. He is a leader of the Pharisees – a member of that sect within Judaism that placed weight on the oral tradition when it came to the interpretation of the law. There is a great deal of ambiguity in the account of the encounter between Jesus and Nicodemus, but a few things stand out. In John’s gospel, the Pharisees are depicted as the enemies of Jesus. Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night that is at a time when no one can see him. We can’t be sure if this is because he is curious, or afraid or whether he has come to challenge or outsmart Jesus on a point of law or to learn from him. What we do know is that Jesus doesn’t turn his back.

Another element to the story is the imagery of night and darkness both of which are important symbols for the author of John’s gospel. If we read to the end of the chapter this becomes blatantly clear. Jesus says: “All who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed.” (3:21) In John’s gospel as elsewhere night symbolises “unbelief or the wrong kind of belief” and darkness (the opposite of light) represents the forces that oppose Jesus.

That Nicodemus comes at night suggests that he opposes Jesus or at the very least is an unbeliever. Apparently, he cannot see beyond the superficial, he is blinded by what he thinks he knows. He is stuck , he knows that there is something different about Jesus but his own training and expectations do not allow him to see what it is ,nor do they allow him to really comprehend what Jesus is saying.

This does not mean that Jesus rejects him or refuses to speak to him. Jesus sees not the timorous, unbelieving Nicodemus, but the potential for growth and understanding. The double meanings in Jesus’ conversation are intended to open Nicodemus’ eyes, to help him to see the distinction between the purely earthly and the spiritual. Like all of us, Nicodemus can choose to turn his life over to Jesus, to begin on a fresh page, to enter into a spiritual existence. Jesus does not judge or condemn Nicodemus, he does not refuse to engage in conversation and most importantly he does not dismiss or deride him, instead Jesus gives him the opportunity to see the world from another point of view.

Jesus does not reject or dismiss Nicodemus and we can be sure that he will not reject or dismiss us.

Last week we learned that love liberates us to be truly ourselves. Today we discover that we do not have to be perfect to be a part of God’s story. When we know that we do not have to be flawless we are set free to accept ourselves as we really are. If we accept who we really are, we can be authentic, stop pretending and recognise that we have nothing to hide. This in turn will enable us to let go of feelings of inadequacy or a lack of self-worth. We will discover that this in itself is healing and will create a more honest and open relationship with God that will deepen our faith and lead to our being born from above..

Love sets us free

March 4, 2017

Lent 1 – 2017

Matthew 4:1-11

Marian Free

Lent is Love

             Lent is Love

In the name of God whose love sets us free to be truly ourselves, to grow and to flourish and, in our turn, to love others. Amen.

St Ignatius of Loyola is well-known as the founder of the Jesuits. When he was thirty years old Ignatius, then a soldier, was hit in the legs by a cannon ball. His right leg was wounded and his left severely fractured. As a result of these injuries, Ignatius was forced to spend a considerable amount of time confined to bed. During this time of enforced rest, Ignatius came to faith and decided to devote his life to God. It was then too that he wrote his spiritual exercises – a form of discipline that was designed to assist those who undertook them to develop an understanding of the relationship with God that would enable them to live out that relationship.

The exercises are designed to be completed over a thirty-day period under the guidance of a spiritual director. They are too complex to be described here, but there are two simple elements that can enhance our own spiritual journeys – even if we never find thirty days to complete the retreat ourselves. The first is the attitude that a participant is asked to adopt before they begin. You might like to try it now. With your eyes open or shut, try to imagine God looking at you with complete and unconditional love. Sit with that feeling, allow the love to wash over you, accept that you are perfectly loveable and that you are unimaginably precious to God. Were you able to do it? How did you feel?

My experience is that this is an extraordinarily powerful, liberating and affirming practice. It is very simple and it is something  that we can do every single day as a reminder of just how much you are loved and treasured by God.

All of our spiritual disciplines should begin from this place – with the assurance of God’s love for us. God doesn’t make impossible demands. God doesn’t insist that we mortify ourselves or that we achieve unattainable standards. God simply loves us and we respond to that love by trying to be worthy of that love and by being the best that we can.

As we respond to God’s love, a second Ignatian practice helps us to develop and to grow in faith and in our practice of our faith. This is the practice known as examen or self-review. There are slight variations as to how this is done, so you might like to check them out to see if one suits you better than another. Examen is an exercise that is done at the end of the day. It requires at least five to ten minutes. There are a number of steps in the process. The first is to recall in some detail what you have done during the day. Then, after asking the Holy Spirit to be your guide, you look over the day a second time, seeing it with God’s eyes and considering whether there were times when you could have done better – been kinder, more patient or less intolerant for example. Having identified something that you’d like to change, you ask for God’s help in making that change. Finally, you offer thanks to God for God’s presence during the day.

Examen does not imply judgement, nor does it expect that we will feel that we have failed. Instead, for those who find it useful, it is a way to be open and honest about ourselves in an environment that we know to be utterly safe, because we know that whatever we do or have done, God’s love will never be withdrawn.

Love, as I’m sure you know, is a much more powerful tool for change than censure or fear. Knowing ourselves loved gives us confidence to be our selves  – even if that self is flawed and damaged. Knowing ourselves loved gives us the freedom to take risks and the courage to confess. Knowing ourselves loved allows us to stand tall and proud and to believe in ourselves. Knowing ourselves loved enables us to soar to even greater heights.

When Jesus was baptised, he came out of the water to hear a voice from heaven saying: “This is my Son the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased (or in whom I delight).” To our knowledge, Jesus has done nothing at this point to warrant those words, he hasn’t begun his mission or done anything out of the ordinary. Yet the voice from heaven makes it clear that God loves Jesus just as he is at that very moment.  Jesus was overwhelmed – he took time (forty days) to process that love and affirmation and to consider what it meant. God’s love empowered Jesus to teach and to heal, to love and to make whole, to challenge the structures of the church and to raise up the marginalised, and above all to trust God with his very life.

God’s love empowers us to be all that we can be, and so much more. This Lent, may we know ourselves loved, give ourselves permission to be ourselves, and from a position of confidence strive to  live into the person whom God believes us to be. Amen.