The promise of the Holy Spirit – Pentecost

Pentecost – 2024

John 15:26-27, 16:4b-15 (thoughts)

Marian Free

In the name of God, source of all being, eternal word, life-giving Spirit. Amen.

The revised common lectionary provides us with a three-year cycle. That is, over the course of three years, we more or less read our way through the Synoptic gospels. The Gospel of John is fitted in – primarily during Lent and Easter. This means that the fourth gospel is not read in a consecutive manner, but in a somewhat disjointed way. For example, in the Farewell Discourse (chapters 14-17) Jesus makes five promises regarding the Holy Spirit. Each of the promises along with the name (characteristic) given to the Holy Spirit, relates specifically to a fear named by Jesus immediately prior. In other words, as Jesus addresses the situation that the disciples will face when he leaves them, he makes a promise that he (or the Father) will send Holy Spirit to equip the disciples such that they need not be afraid of being left alone, of being at risk of harm, or of being ill-prepared to continue to share Jesus’ message with the world.

 Unfortunately, the way in which the lectionary presents these chapters means that the promises are spread over two years and not in the order in which they occur. Today’s gospel for example, is concerned with the third, fourth and fifth promises and we have to wait until next year to read the first and second promises. (John’s account of the giving of the Holy Spirit was read this year on the second Sunday after Easter and will be the reading for Pentecost during year A of the Lectionary.)

If read in one piece, the Farewell Discourse of the gospel of John provides a detailed description of the role of the Holy Spirit in the on-going life of the disciples and in the emerging church. 

After Jesus’ final meal and after he washes the feet of the disciples Jesus tries to prepare the disciples for his imminent departure. In so doing he recognises and addresses their anxieties and fears, in particular that they will be without him and that they will be ill-equipped to continue his work. First of all, he assures the disciples that they will not be left alone. He tells them that he will ask the Father and the Father will send another Advocate (the Spirit of Truth) to be with them forever (Promise 1, 14:16).  That same Advocate, the Holy Spirit whom the Father will send in Jesus’ name, will teach the disciples everything and remind them of all that Jesus has taught (Promise 2, 14:26).  

If the first two promises address the disciples’ concern about being left alone and unprepared to continue Jesus’ ministry, the last three follow provide assurance that, supported by the Spirit, the disciples will be able to face anything that comes their way. So, having warned the disciples that they will be hated by and even persecuted by the world, Jesus reassures the disciples that they need not worry unduly, because the Advocate (the Spirt of truth) will testify on Jesus’ behalf, indeed they will be able to testify with the support of the Spirit.  Further, the work of the disciples will be facilitated by the Spirit who will prove the world wrong about sin and righteousness and judgement. (Without any effort on the part of the disciples, the world will see itself as it really is.) Finally, Jesus insists that the disciples -who are uncomprehending and uneducated – will be able to teach, because the Spirit of truth will teach them. 

Jesus knows that his confused and frightened disciples cannot, at this time, absorb all that he has to tell them instead he leaves it to the Holy Spirit to continue his work of teaching them and he assures the disciples that the Spirit will guide them into all the truth.

The Holy Spirit is Jesus’ continuing presence in the world, a presence that will continue to support, encourage and inform the disciples (and the generations who will follow on) and will enable them to discern sin, righteousness and judgement and to continue to grow in faith and knowledge (to know the truth).

At first glance, John’s picture of the Holy Spirit is very different from the sudden and dramatic appearance of the Spirit at Pentecost depicted in Acts. A closer inspection however reveals more similarities than are at first obvious. In both accounts the role of the Spirit is to transform a group of lost, frightened and uncomprehending disciples into confident, courageous and informed proclaimers of the gospel. If there is more theatre in Acts, there is more detail in John. If in John, Jesus prepares the disciples in advance of his death, in Acts the resurrected Jesus assures the disciples that the Holy Spirit will come. If in John’s gospel Jesus promises the disciples that the Holy Spirit will equip them to testify, in Acts Jesus assures the disciples that the Holy Spirit will empower them to be his witnesses.

Whether through a dramatic experience, or through quiet assurance, the Holy Spirit empowers all who proclaim Jesus as Lord. 

How do you experience the continuing presence of Jesus in the world? In what ways does the Holy Spirit empower and inform you? Do you allow the Holy Spirit to work through you in the world? 

In the world but not of the world

Easter 7 – 2024

John 17:6-9

Marian Free

In the name of God, who in Jesus fully immersed godself in the messiness of human existence. Amen.

Thomas Merton was a monk, a contemplative, a poet, a writer and an activist. He was the most prolific spiritual writer of the twentieth century and had a profound influence on inter-faith dialogue.  

Merton had an unsettled childhood and young adulthood. His mother had died when he was six, shortly after the family had moved from France to the United States. His widowed father sent the young Merton to boarding school in France. Two years later he took Merton out of that school and moved the family to England. After finishing school Merton began studying at Cambridge but was very unhappy there.  At 20 he enrolled att Columbia University where he completed his studies. Merton considered himself to be an atheist but a meeting with Mahanambrata Brahmachari, a Hindu monk convinced him to explore his own spiritual roots.  Merton took this advice and was later baptised into the Catholic church.  At the age of 27 he joined a community of Trappist monks at Gethsemani in Louisville, Kentucky. Over the course of his short life (he died aged 53), he was a monk, a priest, a writer and a social activist. 

Merton sought the quiet of a contemplative life – indeed, his ideal was to spend time in complete isolation – however an experience in March, 1958 led him to understand that engagement with the world was as essential as withdrawal from the world. He records the experience in Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander:

“In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of separateness, of spurious self-isolation in a special world, the world of renunciation and supposed holiness… This sense of liberation from an illusory difference was such a relief and such a joy to me that I almost laughed out loud… I have the immense joy of being man, a member of a race in which God Himself became incarnate. As if the sorrows and stupidities of the human condition could overwhelm me, now I realize what we all are. And if only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun.”

This experience convinced Merton that following Jesus meant not only contemplation but also action and it taught him that his existence was integrally connected to the existence of the whole world and that he had to take a stand on the issues of the day – civil rights, the Vietnam war, nuclear proliferation – it was the sixties after all. Merton saw race and peace as the critical issues and he spoke and wrote about both. He was considered to be a radical and his unusual and untimely death was the cause of much speculation.^[1]

Merton’s insight that he had to be both in the world and not of the world is central to Jesus’ prayer in today’s gospel. He saw, as Jesus saw, that it is impossible to remain aloof and disinterested, that it is impossible to see the suffering of the world and to be indifferent, and that prayer and action are not separate, but are two sides of the same coin.

Being in the world and not of the world is costly. Seeing and calling out injustice does not make for an easy existence amongst those who are content with the status quo. Jesus was crucified, and his prayer suggests that those who follow him will be hated, but this does not prevent him from asking God to send them into the world just as he was sent into the world.

The gospels are clear that Jesus’ life was not one of pious withdrawal, but of active involvement in the world. He immersed himself in human existence. Jesus was not afraid of being polluted by the unclean, the unworthy, the poor and the marginalised. He was not interested in respectability nor was he afraid of offending the establishment. Jesus refused to conform to the norms of his society. He confronted injustice and challenged religious structures that made impossible demands and that made decisions about whom God did and didn’t love.

We are called to follow Jesus’ example, but making sense of how we are called to engage with the issues of our day is not always straightforward.  It is not always easy to know when to speak out and when to keep silent, when to jump in and when to stand apart. Jesus had a sense of clarity about right and wrong that came from his relationship with God and his life of prayer. Our task is to learn what it means to be in the world but not of the world, to find the right balance for us, to resist being pulled too far in one direction or another, to allow a life of prayer to inform a life of action, to assure us that resisting conformity is the way of Christ.

It is not easy to distinguish when we are being led by good intentions or being led by the Spirit, to know when we are chasing our own ideals or being informed by the gospel, to understand when we are seeking our own glory and not the glory of God. 

Merton recognised these difficulties in a letter he wrote to a young activist who sought his advice. He wrote: “The great thing after all is to live, not to pour out your life in the service of a myth: and we turn the best things into myths. If you can get free from the domination of causes and just serve the truth, you will be able to do more and will be less crushed by the inevitable disappointments. Because I see nothing whatever in sight but much disappointment, frustration, and confusion. 

The real hope, then, is not something we think we can do, but in God who is making something good out of it in some way we cannot see. If we can do (what’s right), we will be helping in this process. But we will not necessarily know all about it beforehand….”^[2]

Jesus prays that God will send us into the world as he, Jesus, was sent into the world. May we be the answer to that prayer, willing to take the risk of being God’s agents, being change-makers in whatever circumstances we find ourselves, driven by the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.

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^[1] Some believed that he was assassinated because of his opposition to the Vietnam War.

^[2] https://thewire.in/society/thomas-mertons-letter-to-a-young-activist-speaks-to-our-times-as-well

Abiding in the vine

Easter 5 – 2024

John 15:9-17 (some thoughts from Brazil)

Marian Free

 

In the name of God whose love connects us to each other and to God. Amen.

To my shame and embarrassment, I am guilty of being someone who, in the mid to late1970’s, felt that that the life of the church would be much improved if we got rid of the ‘dead wood’. It is a long time ago, but it was a time when there was a widely held opinion that the church community needed to take itself and its commitment to the gospel more seriously. One of the major institutional changes at that time was an insistence that those seeking baptism for their children should be practicing church-goers, that they should undergo preparation for said baptism (to make sure that they really understood what they were doing) and that the sacrament of Baptism should only be administered in the context of a service of Holy Communion (when the whole community were gathered to welcome the child into their midst).

The zeitgeist of the time seemed to be that for many people their association with the church was social, sentimental, or historic and that the task of the church was to place such a focus on regular church attendance and faith development, that the church would consist of those who truly took their faith seriously (and that it would therefore grow).

Sadly, those well-meaning attempts by self-righteous people backfired. Instead of encouraging families seeking baptism to deepen their faith, attempts to get people to take the sacrament seriously had the consequence of turning them away from the church. They were were confused and hurt to realise that a church which had once encouraged baptism (no strings attached) was now putting up barriers designed to exclude them. Our emptying churches are testimony that to the effect that our efforts were fruitless.

Thankfully while I was guilty of joining the discussion about dead wood, I was in no position to exclude or to shame others who were not as enthusiastic about their church attendance and not as keen to be on endless committees as were the committed few. As a newly ordained person I understood that those seeking baptism for their children had a genuine desire to connect their child to the faith and I came to the realisation that it was God’s sacrament not mine and that my role was to accept that people came to God in their own way and did not have to fulfill my, or anyone else’s, expectations.

As I grew into ministry, (in other words, as my experience broadened), I came to see that there were many ways in which people connected to the church and that my own practice of weekly attendance was only one way of demonstrating a desire to be a part of the Christian community.

I observed the men who faithfully mowed lawns and kept the church grounds neat – but never darkened the doors of the church, the Guild members who ensured that there was always enough money for candles, linen, bread and wine – but who for one reason or another did not attend the Sunday service,  and the families who ‘religiously’ turned up at Christmas and Easter – but who at other times were nowhere to be seen. All were demonstrating a desire to being connected – albeit in different ways.

In the faithful observance of these people, I learned a valuable lesson – that the Christian community does not have a sacred centre to which everyone must belong. Rather it consists of concentric circles, widening out from the centre like ripples in a pond. Each circle contributes to the whole in its own way. No one circle is more important, more holy than other. Together they present the face of Christ in the world.

Jesus’ image of the vine seems to support this point of view. Staying connected to the vine, keeping Jesus’ commandments, and a willingness, if called on, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends are all that one needs to do to bear much fruit, to ensure that Jesus’ joy is complete, and to know his joy in us.

Bearing fruit doesn’t depend on and having joy doesn’t consist of following neatly laid out prescriptions – attending church very Sunday, volunteering for the church fete (or other extraneous activity) or joining one or several committees. The all-important task for any of us is to be connected to the vine, to abide in Jesus and to allow Jesus to abide in us. If we do that, all else will follow.

 We don’t have to establish criteria for belonging. We don’t have to set ourselves up as judge and jury of the depth of another’s faith. Our task is to make (and tend) our own connection to Christ and trust that that is enough.

A question of inclusion – the Ethiopian eunuch

Easter 5 – 2024

 Acts 8:26-40

Marian Free

In the name of God whose love encompasses all people.  Amen.

The reading from Acts today powerfully illustrates the transformational power of the emerging church.  The Ethiopian whom Philip meets on an isolated road, is a figure of. some importance in the region from which he comes. He was a court official who had responsibility for the treasury and was either privately wealthy or significantly important that he could travel in a chariot and have access to or own a scroll.  That he could read the scroll tells us that he was educated and that he could read at least one language other than his own.  In other words, he is unlike any other person whom we have encountered so far in the gospels or Acts.

The Ethiopian is an unusual in a great many ways and his presence in the story of the early church is puzzling. To begin with, he comes from a country beyond the control of Rome and the colour of his skin sets him apart. He might be a person of wealth and significance in his own country, but he certainly does not belong within the Judaism of pre 70 Judea which makes him a poor fit with the largely Jewish community of Jesus’ believers. 

We are told that this stranger was returning from Jerusalem, but we have no idea what he was doing there. As Gentile, the Ethiopian would not have been able to enter the inner court of the temple and as someone with physical anomaly (whether from birth or through castration) the Ethiopian would have been considered imperfect and not even able even to enter the court of the Gentiles. If, as the reading of Isaiah suggests, this is a man who is attracted to Judaism, everything about him excludes him from active participation in that faith.

In the meantime, Philip along with some others has been having some success as a missionary and healer in Samaria (8:4) when the Holy Spirit urges him to get up and go (by foot) to a road in the wilderness – between Jerusalem and Gaza. We are not told how he gets there, let alone how he happened to be in just the right place as the travelling Ethiopian.  The Ethiopian was on his way home from Jerusalem, and Philip had to come from Samaria. Yet somehow Philip finds himself following a chariot and the Spirit urges him to join it.  

It is an odd story and raises many questions. In particular: Why, one wonders, when so much was going on in Jerusalem and Samaria, does the Holy Spirit send Philip south for just one person – an outsider, a person with no influence within the. Judean community who is returning to a country which is as far removed as possible from Judea (and the believing community)?  

Of course, Luke’s placing of the story here is no accident. Acts is a stylised account of the formation of the Christian Church. Luke has envisaged an orderly growth of the faith – from Jerusalem to Judea, to Samaria to the ends of the earth (Acts 1:8). In so doing, the author has tidied up the church’s messy beginnings and has glossed over the disagreements that arose especially over the inclusion of the Gentiles.  

Acts 8:26-40 plays a pivotal role in this part of the story and amplifies the inclusive nature of the early church. It represents a movement away from evangelism to the Jews and opens the door to spreading the gospel – not only to the Gentiles, but to those who for any reason were considered impure and were therefore excluded from participation in the Temple worship and common meals. From now on the book of Acts will focus on the inclusion of the Gentiles and  the question of who is in and who is out will be definitely determined in Chapter 15. 

As suggested in Acts 1:8 the gospel has moved out of Jerusalem, through Judea, into Samaria and, through the Ethiopian, to the ends of the earth. 

The text that the Ethiopian is reading is also important. Not only does it provide Luke with an opportunity to quote the Old Testament (which he does at length) to prove the historicity and validity of the notion of a suffering Messiah, its location in Isaiah (Chapter 53), is only significant. Only a few chapters away in chapter 56  we read: ““Let no foreigner who has bound himself to the Lord say, ‘the Lord will surely exclude me from his people.’ And let no eunuch complain, ‘I am only a dry tree.’” And ‘“For this is what the Lord says: ‘To the eunuchs who keep my Sabbaths, who choose what pleases me and hold fast to my covenant — to them I will give within my temple and its walls a memorial and a name better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name that will not be cut off.’”

One of characteristics of Jesus’ ministry was his inclusiveness. Jesus associated with prostitutes, tax-collectors and sinners. He healed and spoke to people of Samaria. Now his followers are taking that inclusion one step further and affirming that the only criterion for belonging is faith. Indirectly, Luke, by his choice of text, is showing his readers that Inclusion is no new thing, but is consistent with God’s written word. By selecting a character who by all accounts should not belong in the historic faith, Luke is demonstrating just how radically inclusive the Christian faith has become.

The story of the Ethiopian eunuch speaks to our time. If someone as radically “unsuitable” as the Ethiopian could be welcomed into the church, are there any grounds on which we can exclude someone?  The text forces us to think whether there are people whom we, either formally or by our disinterest or judgement, make unwelcome? Are there those whose lifestyle we believe puts them beyond the bounds? 

What matters is this – if  God’s welcome embraces all humanity, who are we to withhold ours?

True leadership – the Good Shepherd

Easter 4 – 2024

John 10:11-18

Marian Free

In the name of God who gives us life in abundance. Amen.

Over familiarity with anything – be it food, a certain style of literature, even scripture – can strip it of its power to satisfy and to surprise. Such could be said of today’s reading from John chapter 10 with its cosy imagery of the shepherd who will put his own life on the line to protect the sheep (us) from the intruder. Many of us of will have grown up with illustrations of low dry-stone sheepfolds with a gap through which the sheep can go in and out. Our Sunday school teachers will have told us that because there was no physical gate the shepherd will have slept in that space so that, should an intruder or wild beast try to enter, he would immediately awake and protect the sheep. 

There is nothing particularly wrong with this image, and it certainly fits with images of shepherding that we find in the Old Testament, especially in Psalm 23 and Ezekiel 34. However, when we place the reading in the context of John’s gospel as a whole we can see that it plays quite a different role.

At first glance the image of a shepherd does not neatly follow the healing of the blind man in chapter 9. It is only when we read verse 10:21 that we realise that the shepherd imagery is Jesus’ discourse on the events of chapter 9 in which Jesus heals a man born blind.  ‘Again the Jews were divided because of these words. Many of them were saying, “He has a demon and is out of his mind. Why listen to him?”  Others were saying, “These are not the words of one who has a demon. Can a demon open the eyes of the blind?”’  Chapter 9:1-10-21 is of a piece. The Shepherd imagery is not an interruption of Jesus’ thought, but an integral part of the narrative.

You will remember that, like the Synoptic gospels, John’s is carefully, though differently crafted. One of John’s techniques is that of the discourse, a question (Nicodemus), an encounter (the woman at the well) or an event (the feeding of the 5,000) becomes an opportunity for Jesus to have a dialogue with someone and then to speak at length on a particular topic. In this case Jesus’ comments in the first half of chapter 10 are a continuation of his commentary on Pharisees’ reaction to the sign (healing of a man born blind) in chapter 9. The Pharisees’ resistance to healing and wholeness, reveals that they are not the shepherds they claim to be. The openness of the man born blind enables him to hear Jesus’ voice and to become one of Jesus’ flock.

So, what does a discourse on the Good Shepherd (and the gate for the sheep) have to do with healing a man born blind? 

I’ll try to explain what I think is going on here. In the first instance, it is clear that the story of the healing of the blind man is more than a simple healing story.  It is really an account of someone gaining spiritual insight – as to the nature and role of Jesus – compared with those who though not physically blind cannot see Jesus for whom he is. 

The man born blind has absolutely no idea who healed him. When he is being harassed by the Pharisees he declares Jesus to be a prophet and finally, when he meets and sees Jesus and Jesus reveals that he is the Son of Man he professes faith in the Son of Man and worships Jesus. In contrast the Pharisees, whose antagonism to Jesus runs throughout this section, declare Jesus to be a sinner and thus reveal their intransigent spiritual blindness (not to mention their self-interestedness).

When the Pharisees try to defend themselves, Jesus points out that it is their belief that they can see that identifies them as sinners. Then, without taking breath, Jesus launches into his discourse on the sheepfold and the shepherd which suggests that rather than being metaphors intended to comfort the faithful, they are an exposè of the leadership style of and an attack on the Pharisees. This section which began in 9:1 comes to an end in 10-19-21 in which the narrative returns to the question as to who Jesus is which has been the undercurrent throughout the entire narrative^[1].

Using the metaphors of the sheepfold and of the shepherd (familiar images leadership from the Old Testament), Jesus implies that the Pharisees are the thief and bandit, who do not enter by the gate and whom the sheep (in this instance the man born blind) do not follow. 

At the end of the first part of the discourse Jesus asserts: ”I have come that they might have life and have it abundantly.”  In contrast “the thief comes only to kill and destroy.” This statement leads nicely into Jesus raising of Lazarus which occurs in the following chapter. The contrast with the Pharisees, is clear. For all kinds of reasons, they are unable to rejoice with the man born blind, they would rather that he remain blind, that he continued dependent on others living some sort of half-life. They refuse to believe that Jesus is anything but a sinner, insisting that he has a demon.

Jesus is not finished. Not only has he come to give the life that the Pharisees are withholding, he states that he will give his own life so that the sheep might live. The Pharisees’ reaction to the healing and to Jesus reveals them as the hired hands. They are not interested in the well-being of the sheep, but only in protecting their notion of law and of shoring up their position in the community.

The pastoral imagery of a shepherd who puts the sheep before himself is comforting and assuring, but it is important that we do not forget the debate that lies behind it. What exemplifies good leadership? and How do we recognise one sent by God? 

As millions of people around the world go to the polls this year these issues may prove to be as important now as they ever have been.

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^[1] I have been told that John writes in the style of a Hebrew writer – that is in a circular fashion. He circles back on themes introduced earlier. So, for example, we can take this narrative back to chapter 8 where the Pharisees declare that Jesus has a demon the same accusation that is made at the end of the section 10:21.

Christ is alive (today!)

Easter 3 – 2024

Luke 24:36b-48

Marian Free

In the name of God who meets us on the road and inflames our hearts with the Holy Spirit. Amen.

There have been a number of attempts to tell the gospel story through drama, film or musical. I think of Godspel, Jesus Christ Superstar, Jesus of Montreal, and The Passion of the Christ to name a few. Each has contributed to making the story relevant for a new generation.  Where they fall down, I believe, is in their attempt to portray the resurrection. Jesus of Montreal, which tells the story of a modern-day Passion play. When the lead player (Jesus) is killed in an accident, his organs are donated and we are to understand that he lives on in those whose lives he saved. Mel Gibson concludes the Passion of the Christ with the depiction of a ghost-like figure rising from the ledge and leaving the tomb.

One reason that the resurrection is so hard to depict is that there were no eye-witnesses to the actual event. Jesus was dead and then he was not. There was no one to tell us how the crucified and very dead Jesus, was re-enlivened three days later.  Mark, Luke and John tell us that when the women arrive to anoint Jesus the tomb is already open and Jesus gone. Matthew tells us that the women witness the rolling away of the stone, and that angels tell them that Jesus is not there. Accounts of the risen Jesus are few and those that we have are vague and contradictory. Paul tells us simply that Jesus appeared to the twelve and then to 500. Mark tells us that angels told the women that Jesus had been raised, but that the women were too frightened and amazed to tell anyone. In Matthew the disciples see the risen Jesus in Galilee where he commissions them for ministry before ascending into heaven. Only Luke and John report more detailed encounters with the risen Jesus. 

Last week we read of Jesus’ appearance in a locked room and of a second appearance a week later for the sake of Thomas. Today we read Luke’s version of what is presumably the same event.  There are a number of similarities which lead to this conclusion. In both accounts Jesus appears at a place where the disciples are gathered, and in both Jesus shows them his scars to convince them that it is really him. Both authors seem to at pains to emphasise Jesus’ bodily presence despite his ghostly. He might be able to appear and disappear at will, but his scars can be touched, and he is able to eat the fish that is provided. 

I suspect that the reason why there are so few accounts of the risen Christ is that 

the first disciples struggled to put into words an experience that was totally without precedence. It is clear that the disciples were convinced that Jesus was alive, but while Jesus was the same, he was also very different from the earthly Jesus. His body bore the scars of crucifixion, but the risen Christ could apparently appear and disappear at will. The first disciples, and therefore the Evangelists had to find a way to share with others something that was incomprehensible, but  which they knew to be true.  This situation was undoubtedly made more complicated by the fact that Jesus didn’t hang around. The first disciples want to share with others their conviction that Jesus had risen from the dead, that he was alive and present with them, but Jesus – still alive – had ascended into heaven. How much easier it would have been if the risen Jesus had continued his work of teaching and healing! How much easier would it have been if people other than the disciples had seen him! How much easier would it have been if they could point to Jesus working in their midst! The disciples are trying to share with the world that Jesus is alive when there is no living, breathing Jesus to show them.

Perhaps the disciples began by sharing their experiences with others who had known and followed Jesus: “he appeared to us even though the doors were locked”, “he was walking beside us on the road”, “he showed us his scars”, “he broke bread”, “he ate some fish” in our presence.  That there are so few stories may reflect the fact that the conviction that Jesus was alive was so powerful that others couldn’t help but believe that it was true. Even those who didn’t see the risen Jesus, experienced his risen presence in a such a way that they couldn’t keep the experience to themselves. Jesus was just there among them, nothing more needed to be said. Even though Jesus had ascended into heaven sufficient people were convinced that in some inexplicable way that the risen Christ was still present with them, that others began to know and experience Jesus’ risen presence.

This, I contend, is why we continue to believe in the resurrection. We do not need to rely on historical records, or firsthand accounts because despite the paucity of hard evidence and the contradictory accounts of the witnesses, all these centuries later we know Jesus to be alive and present with us. We may not always be able to put the experience into words, but we know the living Christ who offers words of consolation, who walks beside us on the road and who enters into the locked rooms of our hearts when we are feeling lost and alone. We know the living Christ who energises and inspires us and whose presence gives us the courage to do things that we might have thought impossible. And because we know the wonder of the living Christ, we cannot keep it to ourselves, but need to share our knowledge with anyone who will listen.

We know the risen Christ, not because we have been told that he rose from the dead, but because we know him here in our common worship, we know him here in the those who share our belief and we know him here in our hearts and in our lives.

Christ is not alive because the Bible says he is. Christ is not alive because some people saw him before he ascended into heaven. Christ is alive because he lives in us.

Is seeing believing? Thomas

Easter 2 – 2024

John 20:19-31

Marian Free

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!

In the name of God, who reveals Godself to us, as and when we need to know God’s presence. Amen.

Today’s gospel is rich in detail, detail that we fail to notice because our focus too often has been on Thomas. The idea of a doubting Thomas has become part of our lingua franca as if the primary purpose of Jesus’ resurrection. appearances was to expose Thomas’ need for proof, to congratulate those who do not need proof and to chide those who need to see to believe.  

A number of problems arise when we approach Jesus’ resurrection appearances to the disciples with this blinkered, one-eyed approach. A primary problem, as I have pointed out previously is that among the disciples in John’s gospel, Thomas is one of the few who has a speaking part. It is Thomas, who in an earlier chapter avers that he will die with Jesus and Thomas who, when Jesus says that they know the way to where he is going (14:4) has the courage to ask the question that is on the lips of every disciple: “We do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”

Far from being the example of a questioning, doubting disciple, Thomas demonstrates what it is to be a leader among the disciples and a confident follower of the earthly Jesus. One might even argue that Thomas’s absence from the locked room (in which the other disciples had hunkered down “for fear of the Jews”) was that, of all the disciples he was not to be afraid to go out – even if that meant being put to death with or for Jesus!

If the focus of today’s gospel is not Thomas’ failure to believe, we need to look at the text anew. 

Looking at the two resurrection appearances together, we notice that the disciples (with the exception of Thomas) are afraid, so afraid that they have locked the doors of the house. They are afraid – despite the fact that Peter and John at least have seen the empty tomb. They are afraid –   even though Mary Magdalene has reported that she has seen (and touched) the risen Christ.  Thomas is not alone, until the other disciples see Jesus for themselves they are all unbelievers. It is only when Jesus appears among them and shows them his hands and side that the disciples let go of their fear and rejoice. 

What happens next suggests that Thomas feels that he has been hard done by. For some reason, Jesus chooses to appear at a time when only Thomas is not present. In the absence of Thomas, Jesus has commissioned the other disciples to carry on his ministry and has equipped them with the Holy Spirit. Further, Jesus has given those disciples authority to forgive. Up until now Thomas has shown leadership qualities, his absence now is evidence of his courage. It would be surprising if he didn’t feel disappointed and overlooked. His petulant cry might reflect his disappointment that he was not present and his refusal to believe his fellow disciples as much as it reflects his scepticism that Jesus had risen. 

Not surprisingly, Thomas’ demand is no problem for Jesus.  A week later, (possibly the next time they were all together) Jesus appears again. On this occasion the doors are shut, but not locked. Jesus again offers “Peace”. He invites Thomas to touch his scars and, to not be unbelieving^[1], but to believe. Thomas’ response reminds us of his leadership qualities. Unlike the other disciples who, when they see Jesus, simply accept that he has risen, Thomas declares Jesus to be both Lord and God. Far from being the Doubter, Thomas is in fact the first, and only disciple in John’s gospel to identify Jesus as both Lord and God.

That leaves us with perhaps the most confusing aspect of today’s gospel – Jesus’ response to Thomas’s declaration. According to John, instead of commending Thomas for his declaration of faith (as he does Peter in the Synoptics), Jesus appears to chide him. “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” The question is, are those words addressed to the disciples as a whole, to Thomas alone, or does the gospel writer have his eyes firmly fixed on his readers, and on those of us who will read the words centuries later?

John concludes the resurrection account (and what some believe to be the original gospel) with the following explanation: “But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name”. Given that the gospel is written at a time when there are no eye witnesses to Jesus, let alone to the resurrection it is possible to argue that the beatitude has quite a different intent. Jesus (or the gospel writer) seems to be making it clear that the readers of John’s gospel and those like ourselves who have come to faith generations later, are at least as blessed if not more blessed than those knew him in the flesh and who as a consequence, struggled to accept his resurrection.

We who have never known the earthly Jesus, but who have his life, death and resurrection reported and interpreted in scripture, do not have to struggle with the fact that our friend, Jesus was God after all. We, who did not have to ponder how someone so obviously dead could now be alive, have the advantage of knowing the resurrected Jesus in our own lives. We are indeed blessed, because seeing and knowing may in fact have been impediment to believing.

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^[1] This is more accurate translation and avoids giving Thomas the misnomer of “Doubting”.

If Friday is “Good” do we need the resurrection?

Easter Day – 2024

Matthew 28:1-18

Marian Free

In the name of God, who in Jesus shows us how to be truly free – of our fears, our anxieties and our insecurities. Amen.

Christ is risen!

He is risen indeed!

If Friday is Good, if on the cross Jesus defeated evil and death and deprived them of their power why did he need to rise? What can the resurrection do that the cross has not done?  

If you have been a part of our liturgical celebrations over the past few days, you will know that they are of one piece. During the Last Supper, Jesus turned convention on its head and demonstrated that there was another way to do things. He showed that powerlessness was not weakness, that service was not enslavement and that death, and the powers of this world were not to be feared.

On the cross, Jesus exposed the ineffectiveness of worldly power and authority. By submitting to a wrongful arrest, false accusations and an unjust punishment, Jesus denied them their ability to coerce and deprived them of their ability to force him to their will. By refusing to fear death, Jesus rendered death incapable of exerting power over him.

But there was still more to do. If Jesus’ death on the cross signalled the defeat of evil and death, then the resurrection provided proof positive that the refusal to engage with the powers of this world renders them impotent, and that when we hold fast to the values of the kingdom, instead of being seduced by the false values of this world we open the doorway to a different ending to the story,  a story in which evil and death do not have the final say and do not determine our response to life’s circumstances. Jesus’ resurrection is evidence that in the final analysis love will triumph over hatred, that vulnerability freely chosen is stronger than force, that meeting violence with non-violence strips violence of its power and that true freedom is won when one seeks not one’s own well-being but the well-being of all people.

Conversely, the resurrection demonstrates the futility of using force to kill love, the foolishness of using the law to suppress goodness, and the uselessness of relying on oppression to quench the thirst for freedom or the desire for justice. The resurrection makes it clear that ultimately love cannot be extinguished, that freedom will not be denied and that in the end good will triumph over evil. 

Jesus’ resurrection is proof positive that we can choose not to be consumed by worldly values, a desire for wealth and power, the need for external recognition or the protection of our personal safety and comfort. Jesus’ resurrection informs that we, and therefore the world, will only be truly free when we, like Jesus, refuse to be bound and limited by hatred, greed, bitterness, resentment, anger and unhealthy relationships. Jesus’ resurrection is a reminder that if we resist the urge for external affirmation or gratification and if we rise above the pettiness of human existence then we, like Jesus, will be truly free and the powers of this world will have no power over us. We with him will be raised from the sordidness of competition, ambition and desire, freed to be truly ourselves – created in the image of God.

The resurrection means that we are:

free to truly live – unconstrained by all those things that bind and limit;

free to embrace our own divinity – unfettered by those things that threaten to overwhelm our true nature;

free to step into the future – released from all those things that would threaten to hold us to the past; and

free to love selflessly and unconditionally – unencumbered by all those things that separate us from each other.

Friday is Good, because death and sin are defeated and the resurrection is proof that the only power they have over us is the power that we give them. 

So let us claim the victory of the cross and live in the power of the resurrection.

Christ is risen!

He is risen indeed!

Why is this Friday “Good”?

Good Friday

John 18:1-19:42

Marian Free

In the name of God who exposes the values of this world for what they are. Amen.

I am often asked why today is called Good Friday, when it is a day filled with horror and death. 

It is good, not because of what happened OR because of what will happen. It is good because of what it tells us. 

By going willingly to the cross, by refusing to engage with a process that was blatantly unjust, and by resisting the temptation to save himself, Jesus exposed all that is wrong with this world – the grasping for and holding on to power, the desire to increase one’s wealth (albeit at the expense of others), the marginalisation and stereotyping of those who are different, the limits placed on freedom of expression, freedom of movement, and the attempts to control the narrative.  By submitting to and not fighting the powers of this world, Jesus exposes their powerlessness – to control, to limit, to label or to frighten. Jesus reveals that it is possible to play by a different set of rules – that one does not have to be bound by fear, hatred, greed or by a hunger for power or seduced by the desire for self-preservation or. control. By refusing to give evil power over him, by refusing to compromise to secure his own comfort and safety, Jesus takes power into his own hands, stripping evil of its power to intimidate, coerce or subjugate. 

Jesus overpowered evil and death by refusing to let them control his story. By facing the forces of this world head on, Jesus deprived them of their power over him.

Today is called “Good” because on this day Jesus showed that by standing apart from the world and refusing to be bound by worldly desires and conventions, and by resisting the. temptation to engage in the grasping for power, recognition and possessions Jesus stripped them of their power over him, and ultimately over us.   

It is Good Friday because the victory has been won and with our cooperation can become the reality for all people. 

Maundy Thursday – modelling resistance

Maundy Thursday

John 13:1-17, 31b-35

Marian Free

In the name of God whose thoughts are not our thoughts and whose ways are not our ways. Amen.

In a recent tweet, the Archbishop of Canterbury commented “Jesus doesn’t wash his disciples’ feet despite having power, but because of it. Jesus’ power finds its fullest expression when he gives it away. Something we’ll see again on the cross.” (@JustinWelby)

Tonight begins the observation of the Triduum, the three days from the Last Supper and Jesus’ arrest to the Resurrection.  Not everyone takes advantage of the liturgical observance of these events, but they are of one piece – each event in the Passion of Christ shedding light on and expanding another. Jesus begins by demonstrating what it means to be free of human desires, to have the confidence to overturn and reject human conventions and the courage to face death. On the cross, he exposes futility of trying to maintain power by force. On the first day of the week, Jesus’ resurrection proves that freedom is won, not by making compromises with the devil (however that is represented), but by standing firm and resisting evil (in whatever form that takes).

Tonight, John’s gospel tells us that: “Jesus knew that his hour had come.” He knew too that: “The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him.” Knowing that he was to die and knowing that one of his inner circle had already determined to hand him over to the authorities, Jesus held fast.  He refused to let his behaviour be determined by the values of this world – self-preservation, anger, bitterness, resentment, or disappointment. Jesus held fast to kingdom values, selflessness, love, forgiveness and acceptance. 

On this night, Jesus did not “rage, rage against the dying of the light”^[1]. He chose not to fight the forces of this world on their terms – by force, oppression, injustice, suppression and self-protection. Jesus showed another way, the only way to defeat evil and to allow love to triumph. He tied a towel around himself, took on the role of a servant, and washed the feet of the disciples. He washed the feet of Judas, who had already made up his mind to hand Jesus over to the authorities and he washed the feet of Peter who was blinded by human pride, and he washed the feet of those who would abandon him.

Jesus’ simple action of footwashing speaks volumes. With his disciples he showed that it was possible to rise above the pettiness of human fears and jealousies.

In willingly facing his opponents, submitting to arrest and torture, Jesus demonstrated the powers of this world will not be defeated by force, that using the  tools of the enemy makes us no better than them, that vulnerability freely chosen is not weakness but strength,  that courage is stronger than fear and above all, that love is stronger than hate.

And so, having shown by example that he will not engage in the power struggles of this world, Jesus goes out to let them do their worst.

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^[1] Dylan Thomas Do not go gentle into that good night.