Posts Tagged ‘prayer’

Knocking on heaven’s door – the persistent widow

October 18, 2025

Pentecost 19 – 2025

Luke 18:1-14

Marian Free

In the name of God whose love is dispassionate and constant. Amen.

I have to confess that over the last ten (is it as long as that?) ten years, I have found myself not only wondering about the state of the world, but also about how to effectively pray for the world. No amount of prayer on my part has changed the current erosion of democracy in the United States, my daily prayer has not ended the war in Ukraine or prevented the devastating loss of life and destruction of infrastructure in Gaza, and my consistent prayer has not created the political will for our governments to act in ways that will save the environment. So yes, there are times in which not only do I despair about the direction in which the world is going, but in which I feel utterly powerless to make a difference and I feel acutely conscious of the ineffectiveness of my prayer in particular and prayer in general. 

Today’s parable, taken in isolation from the text around it, does not provide a solution to my problem – in fact, it seems to place the blame at my feet, to suggest that if only I had prayed long enough, hard enough all would be well. Yet I feel as if I have already battered down the doors of heaven to no avail. No matter how many times I go back, no matter how just I feel my cause to be, it seems as though my prayers, my desperate pleas, continue to go unanswered. Greed and selfishness, and the need for power and control seem to go unchecked, the poor are getting poorer, and the rich are getting richer, homelessness is increasing as is the number of people unable to access timely healthcare, or enough food for their families (and I could go on) and despite the fact that more people than I are praying God has not yet intervened in any way that would make a substantial difference. 

Yet the parable encourages persistence, the judge eventually responds to the widow’s request – annoyed by her persistence and fearful that she might resort to violence and cause him to lose face[1].

Before we fall into utter despair at the inadequacy of our prayer, we need to have a closer look at the parable. Firstly, and importantly, we must not make the mistake of interpreting the parable as an allegory. The judge (though he is the person with all the power in the parable) does not represent God – which is the exactly the point that Jesus is making. The judge may have no respect for people, but God will hear the cry of his people and God will grant justice. 

God is not aloof, corrupt and obstructionist, ignoring the poor and indifferent to justice. God, unlike the judge, cannot be bullied or forced to do our will by persistence or violence.  There would be no point in God if God was like the judge.

Why then does Jesus tell a parable about persistence? Here, as is often the case, context is important. Our lectionary has moved from the healing of the lepers to the parable on prayer thus omitting an important conversation with the disciples about the coming of the Son of Man.  Jesus, in line with many apocalyptic prophets, paints a picture of a time of great tribulation which will precede the coming of the Son on Man – times perhaps not unlike those we are living through. He suggests that the time before his return will parallel the time before the great flood, that its coming will be as sudden and unexpected as the destruction of Sodom, that those on the housetop must not come down and those in the field must not turn back, that one will be taken and another left and so on.

The wider socio-cultural context is also important. Jesus’ disciples were, by and large poor peasants oppressed by a foreign power which had stripped them of their land, demanded the payment of taxes on the meagre living which they were able to make, and which brutally suppressed any opposition. It would not be at all surprising to discover that the disciples were anxious to know when everything would be put right, when justice would be restored to the land. How easy it would be to fall into despair when day-by-day their prayers for release seem to come to nothing.

It is into this space that Jesus’ tells this parable about persistence. Jesus is not saying that God will miraculously bring justice on earth through our constant nagging or through our belief that we know what justice is.  Jesus is acknowledging that there will be times when it seems that God is absent, when we will feel that our prayers fall on deaf ears, and when it seems that there will never be an end to injustice, war, oppression, poverty or violence. Into that place of despair, Jesus urges us to persist, to maintain our relationship with God despite, not because of, what is happening in the world around us.

This, perhaps explains the final question of this morning’s passage: “When the Son of Man comes will he find faith on earth?” When Jesus returns, will he find those who have hoped against hope, those who have persisted when persistence seemed futile and those who have continued to believe despite God’s apparent powerlessness in the face of humanity’s propensity for evil.

We are to retain our confidence in God’s loving justice, in the face of humanity’s constant efforts to suppress it, we are to maintain our certainty of God’s love, despite its apparent absence in some places of the world and we are to keep the faith, knowing that God is with and for us, despite evidence to the contrary.

Prayer is not about getting what we want. Prayer is a means of holding open the door to God, listening to God’s word, allowing ourselves to be formed in God’s image and maintaining our relationship with God through all the trials and tribulations of our own lives and through all the things we cannot control in the world around us. Prayer reminds us that, despite all evidence to the contrary, God is with us, God loves us, and, in God’stime, not ours, God will bring justice on the earth.


[1] The Greek of Matthew 18:5 suggests that the judge is worried the widow might slap him in the face, or even to beat black and blue.

Our Father

July 26, 2025

Pentecost 7 – 2025

Luke 11:1-13

Marian Free

In the name of God, Source of all Being, Eternal Word, Spirit of Life. Amen.

“Our Father in heaven”. I wonder how many times in a lifetime will we have said that prayer. If a church-going person who lives till eighty has been saying the prayer every Sunday from the time they were five, that would add up to 3,900 times. Of course, most church-going people would say the prayer on other occasions as well – maybe every day – which would bring the number of times it was said to 27375! Those who say the daily office would say the prayer twice a day and so the number of times continues to rise. In other words, most of us are so familiar and so comfortable with The Lord’s Prayer that the prayer rolls off our tongues without our giving them much thought. The prayer can become a bit like a mantra, something we say to connect us to God, but not something we say as a call to action. 

Who knows what the disciples were expecting when they asked Jesus to teach them to pray, but the prayer he gave them is profoundly challenging and confrontational. As THE prayer, the prayer given to us by Jesus, it contains within it all that is necessary to live in accordance with the life and teaching of Jesus and demands that we change our lives in response. 

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name:

  • The prayer acknowledges that God is relational, not remote, yet at the same time the prayer reminds that even the name of God is holy and that in God’s presence we are standing on holy ground. 

Your kingdom come, your will be done:

  • We utter a desire that God’s kingdom become a reality on earth – that peace, justice and equity should reign here – not only in heaven. Implicit in this petition is a recognition that for God’s kingdom to be the overarching rule on earth, those of us who make this prayer need to be willing to submit ourselves, our lives, our all, to the will of God. In other words, God’s kingdom will not be imposed on earth but will become a reality when enough of us are willing to make it so. 

Give us today our daily bread:

  • Jesus teaches us to ask for what we need each day, to trust in God to give us enough, not too much or too little. There is much wisdom behind this prayer and it maybe an echo of Prov 30:8b,9: “give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with the food that I need, or I shall be full, and deny you, and say, “Who is the LORD? or I shall be poor, and steal, and profane the name of my God.” 

Learning to live with only what we need helps us to be satisfied with what we have, means that we stop competing with others for more and ideally leads to a situation in which everyone has enough. Give us today our daily bread teaches us to rely on God, not ourselves, to meet both our spiritual and physical needs. Being content with what we have, trusting that God has our best interests at heart, enables us to be at peace with ourselves and with the world and ensures that there is enough to go around.

Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who are indebted to us.

  • In this, the most debated sentence of the prayer, we are apparently asking God to follow our example of forgiveness, but like so much of the New Testament, the forgiveness of debt has to be seen in context. Deuteronomy, especially Deut 15, imposes the forgiveness of debt as both a religious and social obligation. Every seven years, debts owed by Israelites by Israelites were to be forgiven (not paid). This practice ensured that no one among the Israelites was permanently impoverished or enslaved. Forgive us our sins as we forgive debts might read: do not hold our wrongdoings against us forever. Set us free from our sin so that we are no longer burdened by it. The subtext here, is that being set free, we might feel so liberated that our propensity to sin might be diminished!

Save us from the time of trial.

  • Jesus may have added this line as an aspirational statement, not a possibility to be realised.  More than anyone else, Jesus knew that no matter how obedient, how trusting, how holy a person is, God cannot protect them from the cruelty of other human beings, or from the erratic operation of mother nature.

The Lord’s Prayer is not intended to provide reassurance or to lull us into a false sense of security. Certainly, it is a prayer that relieves us of worry and that asks that we  be freed from sin, but it is also a call to action. It is a prayer that must not only be said but lived – not only every day, but every minute of every day. Every time we prayer these words we are recognising the awesomeness of the one in whose presence we stand at the same time as acknowledging that the one who is beyond imagination is one with whom we can be in relationship. We are committing ourselves to daily submission to the rule of God to ensure that God’s kingdom will come. We are recognising that what we have, over and above what we need, we have at the expense of someone else and trusting God to give us what is necessary – not what we want. We are hoping that God will set us free from all that binds us and that God will be with us in our darkest moments.

The Lord’s Prayer is a dangerous prayer. It envisages a time when the earth will mirror heaven. It demands our complete and total trust in God, and a willingness to temper our desires for more than we need. It is not to be said lightly, but only with a willingness to be conformed more and more into the image of Christ and a belief that giving ourselves totally to God will satisfy us more than anything on earth can ever do.

Holding on to Jesus

February 3, 2024

Epiphany 5 – 2024

Mark 1:29-39

Marian Free

In the name of God who will not be held or confined. Amen.

The gospel reading set for today raises far more questions than it answers. What looks like a relatively simple healing story, followed by a story of Jesus’ sense of mission is much, much more. You will remember that Jesus has spent time in the synagogue. There he was confronted by a man with an evil spirit.  When he cast out the demon he raised the ire of the leaders of the synagogue because they interpreted the exorcism as ‘work’, something that was forbidden on the Sabbath. 

In today’s reading Jesus leaves synagogue and goes to the home of Simon and Andrew.  On hearing that Peter’s mother-in-law has a fever, Jesus goes to her, lifts her up and the fever is gone. The mother-in-law immediately gets up and serves them. At sunset – when the Sabbath has ended – people (the whole city!) bring the sick and the possessed to be healed by Jesus. We are not told, but we presume that Jesus has some time to sleep, because he gets up before dawn to find somewhere quiet to pray.

The account seems straight forward, but if we look closer we are left wondering about a number of things.

  1. Why, in a patriarchal society, is Peter’s mother-in-law living in the home of Peter and Andrew? If she is a widow, her sons not her daughter would be responsible for her and yet she is here with Peter.  
  2. If Peter has a mother-in-law, then he has a wife who is never mentioned and is presumably left to run a household and care for children while her husband and sole source of support abandons his job and his family to go with Jesus. 

We learn nothing else about Peter’s family life.

  • Another puzzle is this – why does the author say that the woman (Peter’s mother-in-law) got up and served them? Is it to prove that she is completely made well or is something else happening here. Peter’s wife is the host, it would be her role to serve the guests. The woman’s actions make sense if we understand that in the ancient world healing was seen not just as a cure for the physical ill, but as a restoration of the person to the community.  Serving guests would have been a sign of the woman’s full re-integration into the family and the community. That is well and good but why, one might ask, does the author use the word ‘diakonos’ for serve? Diakonos – the word we use for deacon – is used by Mark only for Peter’s mother-in-law, angels, and Jesus. Is this a hint that women had formal liturgical roles in the Marcan community or played a significant role among the disciples?
  • Another Greek word is equally puzzling. Mark uses the word “katadiöxen” when speaking of the disciples looking for Jesus.  This word can be translated in a number of ways – “hunted” (as in our translation), “pursued”, “looked for”, or “searched for”. ‘Hunted’ gives us a sense of the disciples’ urgency. They have woken to find Jesus missing and are anxious to bring him back. By now, they have seen what Jesus can do, and they know that they want to be part of it. As his disciples, they would also have felt a sense of responsibility for all the people of their city who still seek Jesus’ healing power.
  • Lastly, and this is the question I’d like to focus on, is why, when the crowds are searching for Jesus does he insist on abandoning them and moving to another place?

The author gives us the answer. Jesus responds to the disciples: “Let us go on to the neighbouring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.”

“So that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.”

Jesus’ primary focus was never on the miraculous, but on the message. It was never about having crowds of adoring fans, but on challenging people to change their lives around. His mission was not to heal, but to proclaim the good news, to teach God’s inclusive, unconditional love and to draw the whole community into a relationship with God that was based not on their observance of the law, but on God’s love for them.  Jesus heals because he can. Jesus heals because he has compassion not because that is what he was sent to do. Jesus casts out demons because they stand between him and his message of love and inclusion. He casts out demons because they hold people in their thrall and keep them separated from the love of God – not because he wants to draw attention to himself. 

Jesus’ mission was never about building his ego as is made clear in the accounts of the wilderness temptations in Matthew and Luke. There, the devil tempts him to turn stones into bread, to jump from the Temple so that the angels can catch him. Jesus resists the temptation to do the showy and obvious – even though that might have been a much quicker way to gain an audience and to build a following. But it is not about him. It is not about what he can do, but about the message he has come to bring.

Jesus knows that some will follow him because of what he has to offer them. He knows too that they will not last the journey.

If we turn Jesus into a miracle worker, we see only the surface. If we want a hero who works magic then we will lose interest when the magic is not in evidence. If we want someone to make everything right, we will fall away when life gets hard.  So when the disciples seek him out and urge him to return, he turns his face away from the easy option. He will not stay and be made a local hero. He will do what he came to do and preach God’s kingdom.

Who is Jesus to you?  Would you like to own and contain him as your personal helper or are you willing to stand on your own two feet, take Jesus’ teaching as your standard and your comfort and let Jesus go so that his message might ring throughout the world?

God is not ours to control

June 24, 2023

Pentecost 4 – 2023
Matthew 10:24-39
Marian Free

In the name of God whose ways are not our ways, whose timing is not our timing. Amen.

How you might wonder does a preacher know what to preach – especially when confronted by such diverse and complex readings as we have before us this morning? It is difficult to pass over the pettiness of Sarah and of Abraham’s willingness to collude with her mean spiritednesses. How can one possibly declare (as we did) that this is the word of God? Paul’ letter to the Romans is rich and complex but again, for the sake of time, this too has to be passed over. My habit, as is the Anglican tradition, has been to focus on the gospel, but today’s gospel – as last week’s – consists of several parts. To give the passage the attention it deserves would warrant longer than we have. So to answer my question – in the first instance I read the set texts (hoping that some idea or theme will leap out). Second, I read what other people have to say – what have they made of these diverse readings? If this fails to produce inspiration I will repeat the process until an idea begins to form. Throughout the process I place myself in God’s hands through prayer and reflection, trusting that the Holy Spirit will and does guide me.

Sometimes I am as surprised as you might be as to where I land.

This week for instance, I was convinced that the gospel provided good material for a sermon on persecution – what it is, and why some who claim to be persecuted are not. A re-reading, however, convinced me that, just as this week’s gospel concluded that begin last week, so the theme of prayer could be addressed through Jesus words to his listeners. (That is to say I saw the gospel in a new light – a light I trust given through the Spirit).

Last week I wondered whether we thought that God had a magic wand with which (if we prayed hard enough, or in the right way) God could answer our prayers. Today’s gospel makes it clear that this is not how God acts. In fact, today’s gospel is shocking and confronting to any of us who have a simplistic, naïve faith. If we believe in a God who is benign at best and a frustrated parent at worst, then Jesus’ words today fill us with disquiet – “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father,and a daughter against her mother.” These words (and indeed those that precede them don’t conform to a picture of a Jesus who is warm, loving and protective. This angry, challenging Jesus makes us want to look the other way, to disassociate ourselves (surely he can’t mean what he is saying!)

Throughout history we have simplified and domesticated our faith. We have smoothed off the rough edges, seen conformity to the norms of society as an indication of our goodness and our moral standing. We associate ‘rocking the boat’ with non-conformist radicals, nothing to do with good upstanding Christian citizens.

We are ill-equipped to hear what Jesus is saying. But Jesus is saying something really important. His confronting language serves as a corrective to all of us who think that we know what God should do and how God should do it. Jesus reminds us that God is not ours to control (through prayer or any other means). He defies our desire that he will bring peace, restore order or conform to our expectations that faith is not costly or that as a consequence of his coming all differences between us will be dissolved. He makes it clear that he cannot change the world without first changing us.

Contrary to what we want to believe, Jesus warns us that faith can be, and often is divisive – because it calls us to stand for justice, to love the unlovable, to welcome the rejected. Our faith might bring us comfort- but Jesus warns that it is just as likely to make us uncomfortable. While he wants to shake us out of our complacency, to remind us that no amount of prayer will force God’s hand, Jesus is also keen to reassure us. We need not be afraid. Even if strife is raging around us and our prayers seem to fall on deaf ears. God knows each one of us – down to the hairs on our head and, even in the midst of our troubles God is with us, supporting and sustaining us.

In the final analysis instead of expecting God to do what we want, we have to trust God. We do not try to bend God to our will or, expect God to do what we think God should do. Through prayer we place ourselves in God’s hands, seek God’s will and rely on God’s strength to face the chaos in which we find ourselves.

Prayer changes us

June 17, 2023

Pentecost 3 – 2023
Matthew 9:35-10:8
Marian Free

In the name of God whose faith in us is beyond our imagining. Amen.

How and for what do you pray? What do you expect from your prayers? Are you sometimes completely overwhelmed by the needs of the world? Do you sometimes feel that you are inadequate for the task – that even if you did pray hard enough there would not be enough people who cared enough to alleviate suffering? Do you worry that no matter how much you pray some situations simply remain the same? Do you wonder why God does not appear to act?

At the moment many of our prayers are focussed on the peoples of the Ukraine and Sudan, but there are conflicts all over the world that equally deserve our attention and our prayers. When I wonder did you or your church community last pray for the Khmer, the people of Syria or of the Congo or the countless other places still at war? We are rightly focussed on refugees who have fled recent conflicts and especially those who risk drowning at sea, but that means we tend to forget that there are thousands who have lived in refugee camps their entire lives or that in Palestine there are generations of families who have lived in camps. It is the same situation with victims of natural disasters – we simply cannot pray for everyone impacted by fire, flood, cyclone, and our memories tend to focus on more recent events. In 2020, COVID took our attention away from those who had lost everything in the bush fires of January that year and the floods in Northern NSW and elsewhere are, to many of us a distant memory – and yet there are hundreds, if not thousands of people (in this nation alone) who are still trying to rebuild homes and lives.

At the moment those who are impacted by the increased cost of living, rising interest rates and the rental crisis are front and centre in the minds of many of us and yet we are limited in what we can actually do. Our contribution to a Parish Pantry or other charities will not alleviate the pain for one family even for one day, and few of us can afford to purchase accommodation that could be made available for the homeless.

In the face of such mind-numbing issues, it is tempting to wish that God would wave a magic wand, end wars and alleviate poverty and suffering in the world. Yet if that were how God solved problems there would be no need to pray. God would already have responded. Why, in the face of so much anguish does God appear to stand idly by? The answer of course is complex, but God’s apparent inaction reflects God’s faith in us and God’s longing for us to be a part of the solution.

That this is how God responds is reflected in this morning’s gospel, especially in verses 36-38: ‘When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”’

First century Palestine had been under Roman occupation for decades. Land that once fed generations of families had been taken by the occupiers and given as a reward to Caesar’s soldiers. Everything was taxed – the roads, the crops, the right to fish. The church authorities were either Roman appointments or were people who had cow towed to the Romans. As a consequence, the vast majority of the population felt harassed, oppressed and utterly powerless to effect change.

Faced with the suffering and helplessness of the people, Jesus seems to be overwhelmed. You can almost hear him sigh with despair as he observes that they are like sheep without a shepherd. He is filled with compassion. The Greek word “splagnizothai” (compassion) refers to an emotion felt deep within one’s belly, with one’s whole self. In other words, Jesus’ inner being was overwhelmed with concern – but, like God, Jesus doesn’t wave a magic wand. Indeed, he doesn’t even enlist God’s assistance. Instead, what Jesus does is to pray that there might be enough will in enough people to bring about change.

The need is clear, the solution is not to miraculously make it go away but to send people to fill the need – people of compassion – to heal, to console, to challenge unjust structures, to work for peace.

Seen another way, Jesus prays not for the world to change, but for us to change. As long as there are greedy, selfish, power-hungry people in the world there will be wars, injustice, and inequity. As long as people put themselves first we will continue to rape the planet, change the weather patterns, and induce climate change. As long we continue to believe that it is someone else’s (God’s) problem nothing will change.

Mother Teresa said: “I used to believe that prayer changes things, but now I know that prayer changes us and we change things.

In the end, prayer should change us. It should open us to the ways in which we contribute to the ills of the world; reveal to us our selfishness and lack of action; and open us to the Spirit of God working within us.

We are called to be God’s co-conspirators in changing the world for the better.
We are the labourers for whom Jesus prays. Only when we change can we begin to change the world.

Does God give us what we ask?

July 23, 2022

Pentecost 7 – 2022
Luke 11:1-13
Marian Free

In the name of God who is ready to be sought out by those who did not ask. Amen.

I have to confess that I have an uneasy relationship with intercessory prayer. For one thing it is not something that has come easily to me and for another I am not entirely sure of its purpose. In recent years I have fallen into a rhythm of prayer. Each day I pray for those whom I know to be in need of healing or hope and I bring before God my concerns for the world. Over the course of my life I have witnessed the miracle of prayers (apparently) being answered – the young woman who falls pregnant, the man who makes a full recovery from a stroke or the mother of two who comes out of a coma. I’m not sure of the relationship between my prayers and the positive outcome, but as someone once said: “When I pray, coincidences happen.”

On a larger scale whether in relation to national or international events, my prayers seem to stretch into emptiness or to hit a brick wall. No amount of prayer it would seem will bring an end to COVID or the suffering and heart ache that has ensued. All the prayer in the world seems ineffective in bringing an end the war in Ukraine, the gang violence in Haiti, the drought in Madagascar or the climate crisis in the Pacific.

My difficulty with intercessory prayer has its roots in the interpretation of passages such as that in today’s gospel: “Ask and it shall be given you, search and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives.” Given that Luke places these words in the context of Jesus’ teaching on prayer, it is easy to interpret them as meaning that God will give us what we ask.

There are a number of problems with this point of view. First and foremost, is the problem of unanswered prayer. If asking means receiving how do we explain all the occasions on which what is asked for is not received? Why does one child die of cancer and another not when both are equally and sincerely prayed for? Secondly, behind the belief that asking is receiving is the concept of an interventionist God; a God who interferes with the affairs of the world to effect justice and to bring about peace. If we believe in a God who interferes in human affairs then we have to believe that God takes sides, that God doesn’t care about those who lose everything in a natural disaster or who are forced to flee their homes because of war. How can God chose sides when Christians in Russia are as convinced that the current war is right and just and the Christians in Ukraine believe equally strongly that the war is wrong and unjust? Thirdly, if asking means receiving, does that make God open and vulnerable to the whims of humankind? Conversely does that mean that humanity knows what is best for the world? Lastly, if asking means receiving, is God to be envisaged as some sort of cosmic supermarket at which we can get whatever we want for free? What on earth would the world look like if everyone got everything they asked for?

This morning’s gospel begins with a request from the disciples: “Teach us to pray.” Jesus’ response is to teach them a very simple prayer. “Father, hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come.
Give us each day our daily bread.
And forgive us our sins,
for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.
And do not bring us to the time of trial.”

In his book The Plain Man Looks at the Lord’s Prayer William Barclay comments that the prayer begins by addressing the memory of the majesty of God, the memory of the purpose of God, and acceptance of the will of God. Before we even begin to think of ourselves we acknowledge God and our submission to God. Three petitions follow this introduction – a prayer for our present need, an acknowledgment of past debts (sins) and a request that God will take care of our future welfare – food for the present, forgiveness for the past and help for the future. Barclay points out that the petitions are Trinitarian in that God the Father is the creator and sustainer of life, God the Son is the Redeemer (of our debts) and God the Holy Spirit is our guide, helper and protector.

There is nothing in this prayer that suggests God’s response to the individual petitions of believers. This universal prayer does not suggest that God intervenes in the daily lives of individuals. Indeed the very language makes it clear that it is a prayer for the community, the people of God. “Give us, forgive us, do not bring us. Furthermore, the prayer itself is relational – our relationship to God and to each other. It is a recognition of God’s majesty and an acceptance of our limitations, and as a consequence leads us to place ourselves in God’s hands. (What it is not, is an invitation to envisage God as a heavenly supermarket designed to meet our every need.)

Which leads us to the remainder of today’s gospel – a parable about persistence and an example from daily life that suggests that what God guarantees us is not our heart’s desire, not the well-being of those for whom we care, not world peace but the Holy Spirit. We will never know why Luke chose to put these three together, but a possible lesson is this: that our primary task in prayer (individually and corporately) is to relinquish our own desires and to give ourselves entirely into God’s hands, that God will not think the less of us when we figuratively batter down God’s door asking that God respond to our needs and that God’s greatest gift to us os the gift of God’s self – the Holy Spirit – for which we only need ask to receive.

God’s prayer for us

May 23, 2020

Easter 7 – 2020

John 17:1-11

Marian Free

In the name of God who holds us in prayer. Amen.

In life, and particularly in ministry, we have the privilege to meet some amazing people – people who challenge, confront and support us in our faith journey. Such encounters are very often humbling especially if we take the opportunity to be open to the lessons provided or to the care that is expressed in such meetings. The examples are myriad, but today I would like to share a couple that pick up the theme of today’s gospel – prayer. 

Many years ago, before I was ordained, I attended Parish planning days. On these occasions we were often divided into small groups to consider, among other things, the ways in which we practiced our faith. Anglicans are not very good at sharing such things, so it was extraordinary to be in a situation in which congregation members were willing to confide in each other. On not one, but two separate occasions, in two different parishes, I found myself in groups with women who were in their seventies or eighties (in other words with women whom I only knew as the elderly members of the congregation). I was deeply moved (and chastened) to hear that they rose at 4:00am in the morning so that they could pray without interruption. I was, and still am, struck by their discipline and by the importance that they placed on their faith and their prayer life.  (And on mornings such as this when it is only 12 degrees at 8:00am I am overawed by their resilience!)

I confess that I have not adopted their practice, but all these years later their rigor and discipline continue to call me to account. From time to time I find myself comparing my prayer life to theirs and being challenged to pray more and to pray more regularly.

A quite different, but equally humbling story relates to my first incumbency. During that time, I had the joy of meeting Ruby. Ruby was beautiful and wise and was only eight years old. She was the granddaughter of a parishioner. Her mother was an addict and her grandmother had to maintain a fine (non-judgmental) line in order to retain her contact with her granddaughter. I was fond of Ruby and concerned for her and her situation. So it was that I was completely blown away when her grandmother informed me that Ruby had set up a little altar in her bedroom and even more astounded to learn that, among other things, Ruby said a prayer for me every day!  It is impossible to tell you how moved I was by that knowledge. Knowing that Ruby was praying for me filled me with an overwhelming sense of being loved and held and supported. Whenever I felt underappreciated or overworked, I remembered Ruby’s prayers and regained my sense of perspective. 

John chapter 17 concludes Jesus’ farewell speech. In this section he moves from instruction and encouragement to prayer – not for himself, but for those who are close to him and by extension for those who will come to faith through them. In the face of his impending death Jesus expresses a sense of completion. Despite what lies ahead, Jesus is not anxious for himself. He knows that his relationship with God is clear and is assured. He sees his death as his glorification (or perhaps a confirmation of the glory that was his from the beginning). Jesus’ death might mark the end of his earthly ministry, but Jesus knows that that in itself was only a brief interruption to the existence that he has shared from the beginning with God and to which death will restore him.  

Jesus’ anxiety is not for himself or for his future, but for his disciples – those who have come to faith in him (and therefore to faith in God). Their earthly lives, which have been dramatically changed by their relationship with Jesus, will have to continue in the world without his physical presence to protect and defend them. Knowing that their faith in him has placed them in danger, Jesus prays for them, committing them to God’s care and protection. 

Interestingly, Jesus does not break off his conversation with the disciples in order to pray. He does not separate himself from them or adopt a pious stance (head bowed; hands clasped). He does not feel the need to go to the Temple to pray.  Instead he remains where he is, at the dinner table, surrounded – we must assume – by the empty plates, the cups and the leftovers. Jesus’ prayer – the only prayer recorded in John’s gospel takes place in the presence of his disciples who must surely notice that he is no longer addressing them, but God. This means that they can hear everything he says and the tone in which he says it. 

Because Jesus prays in their presence, the disciples are first-hand witnesses of Jesus’ love for them, his confidence in them, his desire that God should protect them from  harm and his firm belief that because they know him, they know God and that such knowledge is the key to eternal life. Jesus’ prayer assures the disciples that they already belong to God and that they share with Jesus his unity with God. I wonder how the disciples felt – not only to know that Jesus was praying for them, but to overhear the words of that prayer – to know that through Jesus’ prayer they were held and loved and supported – no matter what that future might hold.

Verse 20 tells us that Jesus’ prayer encompasses those who believe in him through the words of the disciples. Twenty centuries later, through the gospel we can eavesdrop on Jesus praying for us – not in private but for all the world to hear. We are so used to hoping that God will hear our prayer that perhaps we do not pay enough attention to God’s prayer for us.

Jesus is always overturning the tables, forcing us to rethink our ways of seeing the world, opening our hearts and minds to new possibilities. What does it mean that God is praying for us, for you?

How does it change your relationship to prayer, to God? 

Immersed in the world

May 12, 2018

Easter 7 – 2018

John 17:6-19

Marian Free

In the name of God whose Son draws us into relationship with God, with himself and with each other. Amen.

Marking assignments is an interesting task. In the process one learns a lot about the different ways in which people think. For example some students compartmentalise their material under sub-headings arguing every point separately before bringing the thesis together as a whole. Others write in a linear fashion, beginning at point A and moving consecutively through their argument to a conclusion at point B. Still others don’t appear to have any particular order or structure – all the details of the argument might be there but they are mixed together in a way that obviously makes sense to the writer but can be harder for the reader to disentangle[1].

If the gospels were student papers, as an examiner I would put John’s gospel into the last category. In this gospel the language and themes circle around and repeat themselves while at the same time moving forward to some new idea or insight. This is perhaps best illustrated by the images of the shepherd and the vine. Both contain more than one image (shepherd and gate, vine and abiding). These images somehow entwine together and get to the place for which the author is aiming, laying down one’s life for the sheep, and laying down one’s life for one’s friends but are difficult to disentangle without damaging or oversimplifying the meaning. Further, the imagery that relates to Jesus in chapter 10, is extended to the disciples in chapter 15, so the theme of an earlier part of the gospel is carried forward to later section. Similarly, at the conclusion of the discussion about the shepherd, the Jews accuse Jesus of having a demon. In chapter 15 Jesus warns the disciples that if the world has hated him, it will also hate them.

Another characteristic of John’s gospel that is obvious in today’s gospel is the density of the material – the number of ideas or themes that are contained in a few verses. Several words that John uses in very specific ways are found together but they are so enmeshed that it is impossible to separate them.  Yet knowing the meaning of each is important to our understanding of the passage as a whole. Making today’s reading more complex still is that these themes have been woven in and out of the gospel from the beginning. Expressions such as “the world”, “the truth”, “being one” and “being hated” have already been introduced and the author of the gospel expects that we will be familiar with his use of these terms and that we will know what he means when he uses them in this context.

For these reasons, it is my contention is that the fourth gospel is better experienced than dissected. When it is read as a whole, in one sitting, the various themes coalesce enriching and enhancing each other. The words echo through the text as they are repeated over and over again. Gradually they simply sink into the consciousness and understanding of the reader who understands their meaning without any need for explanation.

Our reading today is a portion of the prayer that concludes Jesus’ farewell speech (13-17). In preparing the disciples for his departure, Jesus demonstrates servant leadership, reassures the disciples that they will not be left alone, insists that they remain connected to him and assures them that they will receive the Holy Spirit. Finally Jesus prays – for himself, for the disciples and for those who will come to faith through the disciples. Having prepared the disciples for his imminent departure he now makes it clear through this prayer that he expects that his mission will not conclude after he goes away but will be extended through the mission of the disciples and the mission of those whom they bring to faith. The disciples are ideally suited to this task – they have “kept Jesus’ word” (17:6) and believed that “God sent Jesus” (17:8). As Jesus (through his life) glorified God, so now Jesus is glorified through them. As God sent Jesus, so now Jesus sends the disciples.

Jesus is ready to pass the baton and the disciples are ready to pick it up but Jesus believes that when he is gone they will need protection and he prays that God will further equip them. Jesus knows that the faith of the disciples has set them apart from the world. They no longer really belong, just as Jesus did not belong. This places them at risk of being misunderstood as Jesus was misunderstood, and of being mistreated as Jesus was mistreated. Until now Jesus has put himself between the disciples and the world, now he hands that responsibility over to God. He asks that God will protect them from the world.

Jesus also asks God to sanctify the disciples – to make them holy. He prays that God will “sanctify them in the truth, your word is truth”(17:17). Jesus is not asking God to bestow some esoteric piety or purity on the disciples. Rather, Jesus is asking God to bestow on the disciples the sort of holiness that he himself exemplified, a holiness (sanctification) that comes from knowing the Truth and having the courage to share God’s word (Word) and which results in being immersed in, and willing to die for, the world.

Like the remainder of the gospel, the prayer is multi-layered. The “word” that the disciples have is both the word that Jesus spoke and Jesus himself. The “world” is the place Jesus came to save and the world that is hostile to Jesus. Above all though, the prayer is multi-layered because it addresses not only those who were present but also all the generations since who have come to faith.

When Jesus prays for the disciples, he prays for us – that we who claim to know him may be so sanctified that we too will immerse ourselves in the world, sharing the truth and spreading the word no matter how costly that might be.

 

 

[1]Of course, I may be revealing that my thought processes are more linear. Those who think in a different way may find my style too spare, too direct.

One with God or with each other?

May 27, 2017

Easter 7 – 2017

John 17:1-11

Marian Free

 

In the name of God who calls us into union with God, with Jesus our Saviour and with each other. Amen.

In the wrong hands the Bible – indeed any religious texts – can be dangerous. This is blatantly obvious at present as we live with the consequences of Islamic extremism. No faith is exempt from the misinterpretation or misuse of its holy texts. We have to acknowledge that over the centuries even Christian texts have been used in ways that are punitive and even abusive. Passages from the bible have at times been used to limit and oppress rather than to liberate and make whole. Witness for example, the centuries during which it was believed that the inequitable distribution of wealth was God’s design. The poor were poor because that was how God ordered the world – not because kings and nobles taxed them beyond their means. For centuries it was taught and believed (at least by some) that the bible sanctioned violence against women and that women who were beaten by their husbands should not only endure such violence, but that they should also forgive the perpetrator thereby being forced to collude in their abuse.

In the case of today’s gospel, the final half sentence: “That they may be one as we are one” was used as a weapon in the debate about the ordination of women. Those who supported such a move were accused of being divisive and of wanting to destroy the church. Indeed the insinuation was that in seeking change they were going against the express will of Jesus in John 17:11. It was both a powerful and a manipulative strategy, designed to unsettle those who supported the ordination of women, to appealing to their core beliefs and making them feel guilty for daring to suggest change. (Interestingly, the opponents of the ordination of women did not believe that by refusing to accept change it might have been they not the others who were causing division.)

John 17:11 has been used to support unity within the church and between the churches and a quick look at the website textthisweek suggests that this is the most common interpretation of this verse and the most common theme of sermons on this passage. However, if we examine the verse in its immediate context and in the context of the gospel as a whole, we will recognise that the prayer is slanted somewhat differently.

As we saw a number of weeks ago, a key theme of the Johannine gospel is that of the unity of the Father and the Son. Over and over again, the Johannine Jesus states that he is in the Father and the Father is in him. The union between Jesus and God is such that to know one is to know the other. Now we learn that Jesus is sharing with the disciples the union that exists between himself and God. Jesus prays that the lives of the disciples will be indistinguishable from that of the Father and the Son.

Chapter 17 is a part of Jesus’ farewell speech in which he prepares the disciples for his departure and for life without him. After announcing that he is going away, Jesus encourages the disciples to live in him (as branches attached to a vine) and he promises to send them the Advocate – the Spirit of Truth. Now he prays – for himself and for them – beginning with an appeal to God that his role may be brought to completion. In John’s gospel the cross is not something to be avoided but to be embraced. It is on the cross that Jesus will be glorified, because it is here that his complete submission to God will be demonstrated, it here that he will be lifted up and from here that he will be able to hand over his spirit to his followers.

Death is merely the fulfillment of his mission: “Glorify me,” Jesus prays “with the glory that I had before the world existed”. As we learn in the very first verse of this gospel, Jesus and the Father have been united since before time began. Jesus continues by praying for the disciples. He prays that they union that he shares with God will not be shared with those who believe in him.

That Jesus is praying that the disciples will be one with himself (and therefore with God) is confirmed if we read to the end of the prayer. In verses 21-23 Jesus prays again: “that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.” The prayer concludes: “so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.” If the disciples are united to God in the same way that Jesus is united to God then, God will be known through them as God was made known through Jesus.

At the end of the Farewell Speech, Jesus commissions the disciples to continue his work in the world. As God sent Jesus into the world, so now Jesus sends the disciples. As Jesus revealed the Father, so now the disciples have the responsibility of revealing both the Father and the Son. They cannot do this if they insist on asserting their individuality and on going their own way. The only way that the disciples can achieve union with God is if, like Jesus, they hand themselves over entirely to God and submit themselves completely to God’s will. By subsuming their own needs and individuality into the Godhead, they will allow God to be made known through them. Their union with God will in turn lead to unity with one another.

It’s all a matter of what we take as our starting place. If we begin by believing that God is insisting that we live in complete unity, we can end up chasing the wrong goal – focusing on ending our internal divisions rather than focusing on our union with God. If however we make it our primary goal to seek union with God, the end result will union with one another – in our Parishes, in our Dioceses and with the members of other churches.

 

Keeping faith with God

October 15, 2016

Pentecost 22 – 2016

Luke 18:1-14

Marian Free

 In the name of God, who is patiently waiting for the world to come to its senses and to allow the kingdom to come on earth. Amen.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I feel as though my prayers fall on deaf ears, or perhaps more accurately that no matter how much or how regularly I pray, the world will still be blighted by greed and the desire for power that leads to oppression, injustice and war. Surely there must be millions of people praying right now for an end to the bombardment of Aleppo – and yet the shelling continues, the hospitals have been destroyed, food has run out and those who are not yet dead are injured and/or starving. Week after week we pray for the leaders of the world, for care for the environment and all for what? The world seems to go on much as before, people selfishly getting on with their own lives, heedless of the cost to others or to the consequences of their actions for future generations.

We pray, but to be honest, sometimes it feels as though we are banging our heads against a brick wall. Does it make any difference? Will the world ever change? Is God listening? Does God even care?

Luke seems to relish complex, confusing parables. Not so long ago we grappled with the parable in which the actions of the dishonest or unjust steward were commended. Today we have another difficult parable. This time God is being compared to an uncaring, obstructionist judge who only responds to injustice when he is at risk of receiving a black eye. What are we to make of such a comparison? Are we being told that God will consistently put off our requests for justice until we are finally able to wear God down? Are we being warned that we are as vulnerable and defenseless as a first century woman who has no one to stand up for her?

It is a shocking thought – an indifferent God, unconcerned with the injustices that plague the world, getting on with goodness knows what while we bang futilely at God’s door.

I suspect however, that none of us really think of God this way and that we simply put this uncomfortable parable to a side (much in the same way that we try not to puzzle too hard over the parable of the dishonest steward. It seems that Luke (or the Jesus of Luke) uses shock intentionally. It is an attempt to get our attention, to make us think a little bit differently and to ensure that we absorb and remember the point that is being made. The parable rewards us with new insights if we take the trouble to unpack it.

In this instance Luke, instead of allowing the parable to speak for itself, gives us an interpretation before the parable begins – it is about persistence in prayer.

In the wider context of the gospel, the parable follows Jesus’ teaching about the coming of the Kingdom. Jesus has just warned the disciples that the kingdom is not coming with signs that can be observed and that when it does come it will come without warning.

This parable then, and the one that follows, are intended to teach the disciples how to pray in the “in-between” time – the time between Jesus and the coming of the kingdom. Remember that Luke is writing sometime between 80 and 100 CE. The Temple has been completely destroyed, the Jews have been forced out of Jerusalem and those who have accepted Jesus as the Christ are experiencing a degree of hardship and ostracism because they no longer belong anywhere. Those who were Jews can no longer associate with their fellow Jews and those who of Gentile origin have likewise set themselves apart from their neighbours. It is not a comfortable or easy time to be someone who believes that Jesus is the Christ.

The world, instead of being dramatically changed by the death and resurrection of Jesus, continues much as it did before – perhaps worse for those who have chosen to follow Jesus. What are they to make of this? Surely the world be a better place as a consequence of Jesus’ death and resurrection.

Today’s parable then, is intended to help believers make sense of the present, to pray in the face of apparent inaction on God’s part and to retain their faith despite the fact that nothing seems to have changed.

So back to the widow. Widows, as I am sure you recall were the most vulnerable members of first century society. Without a male family member to support them or to speak for them, they were thrown on the mercy and charity of those around them. At the same time they were, after orphans, the ones to whom most care and compassion was meant to be extended. It is the judge’s responsibility to take a widow’s concerns seriously, to give her needs priority over those of others. His disinterest in her case serves to highlight his callousness. It is only when he becomes afraid that the widow will give him a black eye that he relents. He doesn’t want to lose face in front of everyone.

Jesus suggests that if someone as base as the judge responds to the widow’s plea, how much more will a just and compassionate God respond to us if we continue to have faith that God is listening and if, despite evidence to the contrary, we remain confident that God is active in the world, working to establish God’s kingdom.

So rather than comparing God to an unresponsive judge, who will only act when his honour is threatened, the parable encourages us to be confident that God will respond if we persist with our pursuit for justice and peace in the world. Even if it appears that nothing is happening, we are to go on praying, believing that God is acting in the world to bring about justice and peace.

In this time – the “in between” time, we are called to keep faith with God as God keeps faith with us, believing that humanity is capable of better things, convinced that humanity is indeed worth saving, and confident that no matter how selfish, unjust and hateful we are, that God will never ever abandon us, but will keep on hoping that we, with God, will continue to work and pray for peace and justice until at last God’s kingdom is established on the earth.