Posts Tagged ‘Risk taking’

Following a star – taking risks

January 4, 2025

Epiphany – 2025

Matthew 2:1-12

Marian Free

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

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

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

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

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

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

In no particular order: 

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

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

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

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

Lambs among wolves – do you dare?

July 1, 2022

Pentecost 4 – 2022
Luke 10:1-12, 17-24
Marian Free

In the name of God who asks us to leave everything and follow. Amen.

I wonder, do you travel light, or do you need to be prepared for any eventuality? Do you like to plan your accommodation in advance, try out new places to eat or are you just as happy to take things as they come? Either way I wonder how you respond to Jesus’ instructions to his disciples in this morning’s gospel? “Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals”, “Remain in the house you first enter, eating and drinking what they provide”? Could you set out on a journey with nothing but the clothes that you are wearing? And how do you feel about accepting hospitality from strangers, eating whatever is put in front of you? How comfortable would you feel as a “lamb among wolves”?

In the first century, the most common form of communication was by word of mouth. People were illiterate and letters were an expense that few could afford. A majority of people lived on the breadline – paying for accommodation was not an option. To get a message to someone in the next village or further afield meant that someone had to travel by foot and be dependent on the kindness of strangers. This had its dangers and risks but, by and large, travellers could rely on the culture of hospitality that existed among many of the cultures in the Middle East. Even the poorest of people would share what they had, even if it was just some bread or maybe some fish.

If the gospel was to be shared the disciples had to go out, to travel through the towns and villages of Galilee: “to cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The kingdom of God has come near to you.’” In a world without internet, telephone or even the printing press, there was only one way that people were going to hear the good news of the kingdom and that was if was taken to them.

Today’s world is very different. In the first instance, since Constantine made Christianity the religion of the Empire in the fourth century, it has been possible to assume that, in the West at least, the Christian faith was known (if not always held). Then during the years of expansion and colonisation, the Christian faith was exported to all corners of the world. Either way, until the last hundred years or so, there has been no apparent need to take the gospel to the world. Add to that the fact that in the 22nd century, communication is easy, cheap and, often, immediate. Modern day followers of Jesus can share the message of the gospel simply by sitting at their computer or by tapping out messages on their phone. Blogs, tweets, Facebook posts can all be employed in the service of spreading the gospel. There is not even a necessity for any face-to-face contact – no need to go out, no need to accept hospitality from strangers, no need to take risks, and certainly no danger of being “lambs among wolves”.

Safe behind our texts and our screens we can congratulate ourselves on spreading the word. We may take a certain pride in the number of “followers” that we have, imagine that our creative meme helps to make the gospel “relevant” to a new generation or that our erudite words will convince a sceptic or unbeliever that the gospel does indeed have something to say to today’s world.

Therein, I suspect lies a serious problem. In our offices and our homes, we have no idea what the world needs to know, even worse, we do not know what the world needs us to hear. Safe in our own little worlds, we do not need to engage with the pain and suffering experienced by millions – in distant places, but also on our doorsteps. We do not have to get our hands dirty with the grit and toil of what for many is daily life. If we do not take ourselves into the streets of our cities and towns, we will not have to contend with the anger that many people feel towards the church or face their disappointment with a church that has failed them. Confined in our churches, we do not have to personally take responsibility for the ways in which Jesus’ teachings have been distorted and used for purposes for which they were never intended.

How can we possibly follow Jesus’ instruction to “heal the sick”, unless we allow ourselves to come face-to-face with those whose lives are limited by poverty, injustice or trauma? How will we learn the stories or those beyond our walls, unless we allow ourselves to become vulnerable (unprotected by our equivalents of purse, bag, and sandals)? How will we begin to have any understanding of their lives and their struggles unless we graciously accept their hospitality and not only listen to, but share their stories? How can we tell others that the “kingdom of God has come near” when for so many it is palpably absent and when we demonstrate by remaining in our comfort zones that we are loath to place our trust and hope completely in Jesus?

At first glance, the gospel appears to be bound in time and place, but like most of our gospel stories, Jesus’ sending out of the seventy can and does speak to us. Jesus warns that if we take seriously the commission to share the gospel, there will be times when we are overwhelmed by the impossibility of saving the world, when we feel defeated by the cynicism and scepticism of those who have rejected the church’s teaching and occasions when we are struck with anguish when we hear of the pain inflicted directly and indirectly by the church in which we have found a home. If we truly allow ourselves to be defenceless against the onslaughts of those whom we seek to serve, we may indeed feel as though we are “lambs among wolves”.

The good news is that the seventy did go out and when they returned, they exclaimed: “Lord, in your name even the demons submit to us!” “Even the demons submit to us!”

In a different time and place, we would not use the language of demons, but it is fair to say that there are many evils in the world today. The evil of greed which leads to the impoverishment of millions. The evil of a desire for power and control that leads to war and terror. The evil of climate injustice, which leads to the most vulnerable paying the cost for the careless of others. The evil of domestic violence and child-abuse. The evil of dispossessing people of their land, removing their children and incarcerating them at disproportionate rates. (I am sure that you could add more.)

Our blogs, tweets, Facebook posts, our Live-streaming and Zoom meetings will not do. We must find the courage to go out – even if we do not know what to say and even if we are afraid of our welcome – because only then can we confront the evils of the world and only then will Jesus be able to empower us to overcome them.

Embracing the present

November 15, 2014

Pentecost 23
Matthew 25:14-30
Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us out of fear and timidity into a life that is full, fulfilling and rich. Amen.

During the week Gail Kelly resigned from her position as CEO of the Westpac Bank. This event not only made the newspapers, but was a matter of some discussion in the wider community. Kelly’s career has been of interest since she was appointed to the position in 2008. She broke the glass ceiling in the corporate world, but more than that, during her time with the bank, she achieved what many of her peers had not. That is, she successfully steered the bank through the global financial crisis and, in what was a critical time for many financial institutions, she significantly strengthened the bank’s position.

In August, at the launch of the St George Foundation, Kelly outlined seven lessons that she had learned along the way. I think that they are worth sharing. In brief, she said: “Choose to be positive; do what you love, love what you do; be bold, dig deep; right people on the bus, wrong people off; have a vision of what you’d like to achieve; practice generosity of spirit (desire to see others flourish) and live a full (whole) life.” Two things caught my attention. First of all, Kelly’s words were not those of a cut-throat, aggressive power-hungry person, but of a pragmatic, sensible, balanced person who has taken risks. Secondly, I was intrigued by Kelly’s advice to be bold and courageous. It is easy for us to imagine that successful people are confident and self-assured at all times. Kelly says that for all her life she has had a sense of: “Gosh, I’m not good enough, I’m not adequate, I’m not going to do this well. I might fail, what happens if I fail?”

A great many of us would relate to these feelings of self-doubt and of the anxiety that doing something new and challenging can cause. Kelly suggests that in such cases we should: “pause, dig deep, take our courage into our hands and actively say: ‘I’m going to back myself.'” Self doubt hasn’t prevented Kelly from taking risks. At such times she has actively said: “there are others out there who are going to support me, there are others out there who want me to win.”

As I reflected on these words, it seemed to me that they helped to make sense of today’s parable about the talents.

It has been usual to confuse the expression ‘talenta’ which refers to a sum of money, with a person’s ability. More often than not, the parable is interpreted as meaning that we have to make the best use of our talents (abilities/gifts). However, if we understand that a “talent” represents something like fifteen years wages of an ordinary worker, we begin to see the huge responsibility that has been given even to the slave who receives only one talent. It is a responsibility that the master expects will be taken seriously. That is he believes that the money will be put to good use.

According to the parable, the first two slaves invest the money. When the man returns, they are able to return to him double what he gave them. The third slave however does not have any confidence in himself. He is afraid of his master and doesn’t fully grasp the master’s confidence in him. (He might only have been given one talent compared to the other’s five and two), but even one talent (fifteen year’s wages) is indicative of the master’s confidence in his ability to manage a huge sum of money. The responsibility paralyses the third slave such that he is too afraid to do anything. He is so fearful of taking a risk that he doesn’t even give the money to the money-lenders which would ensure some form of return. Burying money was regarded as the best form of security against theft. What is more, according to the customs of the time, it was also a way of ensuring that the slave would not be held liable if the money was stolen. The slave presumably believes that he has done what is necessary to protect himself – the money will be safe until the master’s return and even if it is not, he cannot be held responsible for its disappearance.

Unfortunately, he has misread his master’s intention in entrusting him with the money. The master was expecting boldness not timidity. By giving the slave the money, he had demonstrated his trust and his belief in each of the slaves by only giving them only what he believed they could manage. Only one slave has not lived up to that trust. It is his failure to recognise and respond to that trust that earns him the master’s wrath.

The parable of the talents confronts those who, in the present are lazy or fearful who do not understand God’s confidence in them and who do not embrace life to the full, use every opportunity that is put before them and take risks. God does not want us to live in fear of the future, but to live in and be fully engaged in the present.

God has placed His trust in us. Do we honour that trust by being fearful or by stepping out in faith confident in God’s confidence in us?

Taking risks, trusting God

November 10, 2012

Pentecost 24

Mark 12:38-44    http://bible.oremus.org

Marian Free

 In the name of God who sees all things. Amen.

 I’ve been re-watching the TV series Scrubs  – a comedy which follows four young doctors as they begin their working life. One of the things that I like about the programme is that the characters are so complex and therefore believable. In fact, most of the characters are quite seriously flawed.  For example, Elliot, one of the young doctors, is totally neurotic and incredibly insecure about her looks and about her medical skills. She constantly worries about what other people think about her. In one episode she begins going out with a nurse. The relationship begins quite well but doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. A major problem is that Elliot is trying so hard not to let Paul know how crazy she is, that she continues to put up barriers which means that the relationship remains superficial. It is only when she lets her guard down and allows Paul to see the real Elliot that they can move forward.

The sanest and most secure of the four interns is Chris Turk, known as Turk. Turk is in love with Carla who thinks she knows how everyone else should run their lives and has no hesitation in sharing her thoughts with them. On one occasion – despite Turk’s advice – she tells a senior doctor that he shouldn’t be getting back together with his ex-wife because they are no good for each other. When she is proven to be wrong, she sees herself clearly for the first time and is surprised that instead of being insightful as she has always thought, she is bossy and interfering. As a consequence she falls into despondency and tells Turk that never again will she tell anyone what to do. His response is wonderful. He says: “Yes you will, and it doesn’t matter because I love you.” It doesn’t matter because I love you.

It is not always easy to be open and honest about ourselves or to ourselves. Especially when we are young we worry what others think about us, afraid that they will not like us if they see us as we really are. We put up defensive barriers to keep people out or we act out roles in the hope that we will fool people into believing that we are clever or brave or whatever it is that we think we are not but that we should be. On the other hand we may be genuinely blind to parts of ourselves and recognising our faults can be painful process. However, as our fictional stories remind us, if we take the risk that we will be accepted and that others will continue to love us even if we are opinionated or timid, insecure or bossy, we will stop being afraid to be who we are. Our lives will be freer and fuller because we will no longer be wasting time hiding our true selves, worrying that others don’t like us or beating ourselves up because we fall short of our own expectations. What is more, when we love ourselves and allow ourselves to be loved for who we are, it is then that we can begin to be transformed into the person we would like to be.

For at least the past 1,000 years, members of the church in England have begun their worship with the following words: “Almighty God, to whom all hearts are open, all desires known and from whom no secrets are hidden ..”  Week after week, year after year, we say what is perhaps the most terrifying prayer that we will ever utter. That is, every time we come to the Eucharist, the first thing that we do is to acknowledge that before God our very souls are laid bare. The secrets of our hearts, our hidden longings, our anger, disappointment, pettiness and resentment are exposed to God’s sight. There is nothing that God does not know about us and no place in which to hide.

I sometimes wonder that we can pray these words so blithely, that we don’t cringe under our pews or fall to our knees in fear. Surely few of us can bear that sort of scrutiny! And yet we are here, and once again, with heads held reasonably high, we have spoken the words which remind us that all that we are – the good, the bad and the ugly – is known to God. We are able to pray these words because for us they are not terrifying. Our faith not only allows us we have faith to see ourselves as God sees but also informs us that God loves us as we are.

These two factors – self acceptance and the knowledge of God’s unconditional love – are at the heart of the faith experience. More than that, these are the ingredients of an authentic life and an authentic faith – a life lived without falsehood and pretence and a relationship with God and with others that is utterly and sometimes, horribly real.

You might notice that Jesus’ harshest condemnation is reserved for hypocrites. In Matthew’s gospel Jesus rages and rages against the hypocrisy of the scribes and the Pharisees. “Woe to you scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!” Jesus says over and over again. And today, Jesus criticises the scribes who are more concerned with appearance and status than they are with God. They hope that their long robes and long prayers will hide their lack of compassion and their self-interest. The have failed to understand that they can hide nothing from God and that a real relationship is an honest relationship.

God doesn’t want a relationship with our public self, a relationship that is limited by obstacles that are put up, games that are played, or falsehoods that are perpetuated. God wants a relationship with our real self – that part of us that is scarred and imperfect. God wants us to trust him that however frail, however flawed we are God’s love will never, ever be withdrawn.

We can’t fool God, so there is really no point in trying. However embarrassing, however humiliating, however nasty our real self is – that is the self that God had a hand in creating, the self that God loves and the self with which God wants to be in relationship.

Opening ourselves to another can be a terrifying and risky thing to do, but the reward is a deep and authentic relationship in which all barriers are removed and we can be our true selves. The widow trusted God with everything  she had– maybe we can trust God with everything that we are.