Posts Tagged ‘complacency’

A frightened, angry Jesus

April 9, 2020

Maundy Thursday – 2020
John 13:1-17,31b-35 (1 Cor 11:23-26)
Marian Free

In the name of God, Earth Maker, Pain Bearer, Life Giver. Amen.

Several years ago, I came across an extraordinary video titled Coach Trip to Calvary. The video followed a mixed group of travellers in the Holy Land and their Palestinian driver. As the small tour group visited the sites of some of the biblical stories, they became a part of the story. In other words, there were two parallel narratives – that of the tourists and that of the events of Jesus’ life – but the characters remained the same. The biblical story was transported into the present and the tourists entered into it as themselves which made the story incredibly real, if a little confusing.

The scene that remains with me is that of the last supper. In this scene the Palestinian bus driver takes on the role of Jesus and the tourists the role of Jesus’ disciples. The group are in a cheap café, seated on benches at a trestle table. The lighting is low, and the meal consists of shared plates, pita bread and wine. Without warning, the driver (who has morphed into Jesus), takes the bread and violently tears it. “This is my body which will be given for you”, he says angrily, handing the bread to the surprised disciples. It is a confronting scene – a far cry from the peaceful domesticity depicted by such artists as Leonardo da Vinci. As I watched, I cringed, whether from embarrassment, discomfort or fear I’m not sure, but this was not the Jesus I knew, the Jesus with whom I was comfortable, the Jesus whom the gospels describe as going quietly to his death. The Jesus presented here was an angry, hurting Jesus, an all too human Jesus, Jesus who knew what lay ahead and who was expressing his fear and anguish that it had come to this.

I suspect that my discomfort lay here. I had allowed myself to think that while Jesus did have some qualms he was relatively accepting about his fate, willing to do what was required (or willing to accept the consequences of his actions). The very domestic setting of the last supper in the gospels lulled me into the belief that Jesus’ final meal with his friends was relatively calm. My reading of the text and my experience of the Eucharist had conveniently ignored the sense of foreboding at that meal and the hint of the violent and the gruesome death that would follow. Witnessing Jesus’ angry, violent tearing of the bread shocked me into a recognition of my complacency and of my comfortable, armchair view of Jesus’ trial and persecution.

I was brought up short and I cannot help but wonder why the disciples were not so moved by Jesus’ distress that they were able to stay awake, to stand by him, to be identified as a disciple and if need be to share his death.

Tonight, we remember that night. We are challenged to hear Jesus’ pain, to stay awake, to watch while he prays and, if need be, to walk with him to the cross.


You will be judged

December 7, 2019

Advent 2 – 2019

Matthew 3:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God who will come in judgement. Amen.

It is difficult for us to comprehend that John the Baptist’s followers did not automatically defect to Jesus. The fourth gospel that tells us that Andrew left John to become a disciple, otherwise the gospels are silent on this matter. This seems strange. According to Matthew John recognized Jesus when he came to be baptised and, we have to presume, shared that knowledge with others. Yet, as next week’s reading will make clear, John still had disciples when he was in prison and those disciples took his body and buried it. It appears that there were still followers of John at the gospels were being written and that John’s role had to be clearly delineated and limited such that it was clear that Jesus was the more significant of the two.

The New Testament was only interested in John so far as his life intersected with that of Jesus and the New Testament writers were certainly not interested in what did or did not happen to John’s followers. Notwithstanding this we know that John the Baptist’s ideas and ministry continued to influence people. This is evidenced by the Mandaean faith that originated in Mesopotamia some 2,000 years ago[1]. The Mandaeans worship John the Baptist whom they call Yehyea Yahana. Worldwide there are 60-70,000 Mandaeans and of these 10,000 can be found in Sydney’s western suburbs. Mandaeans are gnostic, that is they believe that they have access to secret knowledge and that their soul is in exile, seeking to return to its true home.

Not surprisingly, baptism is central to the worship and practice of the Mandaeans. Unlike Christians they can be baptised hundreds or even thousands of times during their lives. Baptism for them is not a sign of entry into the faith or the means by which they receive the Holy Spirit. It is a symbol of purification, an opportunity to cleanse and refresh one’s life and soul. Members are usually baptised in a river where the water is flowing and fresh. Baptism is practiced at significant times in the church calendar and on other occasions including funerals. We know little of their teachings or whether they have records of what the original Baptist taught.

We do know that John seems to have captured the mood of his generation. He established himself on the Jordan River, preached a baptism of repentance, and announced the coming of one who was more powerful than himself. Baptism as a means of entering the Jewish faith was not common if it existed at all. First century Hebrews were familiar with washing as a means of ritually purifying themselves, but it was not related to repentance. Purification related to fitness to worship in the Temple.

The biblical John is somewhat enigmatic and elusive. His role in the New Testament is primarily as a foil for Jesus. Yet, despite their embarrassment about the significance of John – after all Jesus was baptized by him – the Gospel writers are unable to disguise the fact that John had an important ministry and a following of his own.

Like the prophets before him, John named the situation for what it was – a time in which some had lost hope that God would act, and in which others appear to have assumed that their behaviour did matter because God would not act. John’s preaching appears to have exposed the sinfulness and lacklustre faith of his contemporaries. He seems to have struck a chord with both the people and with the religious establishment. John’s call to repentance must have spoken to their hearts and exposed the poverty, selfishness and faithlessness of their lives. Something in his preaching revealed the need for them to turn their lives around. After all, we are told that all Jerusalem, all Judea and all the region of the Jordan were going out to him.

John’s message was not one of comfort and reassurance, but of judgement and condemnation, even his message about Jesus was not designed to encourage, but rather to convince the people of the need to bear good fruit, to turn to God and to be ready for the wrath that was to come. No one was spared John’s tongue. He accused even the penitent Pharisees and Sadducees of being vipers and challenged the complacency that led them to believe that their ancestry assured them of a good outcome at the judgment.

Jesus’ message was quite different. It was aimed more at the people than at the religious hierarchy and was much more conciliatory and compassionate. That said, we forget John’s warning at our peril. Jesus’ death and resurrection may have assured us of God’s love and given us confidence that our sins have been forgiven, but that does not mean that we can afford to be complacent or that we need do nothing in return. Through our baptism we have been made children of God. It is incumbent on us to behave as such. Jesus proclaimed that the Kingdom had come near. We, his followers, are called to live as Kingdom people– recognizable as members of that kingdom through all that we do and say.

Advent is a reminder that Jesus will come again and that we will have to answer to him for all that we have done and not done in this life. We will be called to be accountable for the way in which we have used or misused the gifts that God has given us. We will be challenged to consider whether we have taken God’s love and forgiveness for granted or whether the knowledge of God’s love has encouraged us to grow into the people God believes that we can be.

Even though John’s primary role in our faith was to prepare the ground for Jesus’ coming, his words echo down through the generations. We cannot afford to be complacent – repent, be cleansed of your sins – get ready for God to break into the world in judgement!





[1] Whether or not this was a direct continuation of John’s ministry is not clear.

What are we prepared to give, to give up?

August 17, 2019

Pentecost 10 – 2019

Luke 12:49-59

Marian Free

May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, God our strength and redeemer. Amen.

In Apartheid South Africa it was illegal for a white person to marry a black person or a coloured person or an Indian person or for a colored person to marry a black person or a white person, or an Indian person. If one was unlucky enough to fall in love with someone outside the prescribed parameters the consequences were serious – disgrace, arrest, followed by a jail sentence. Those who formed such relationships were usually isolated from their families and ostracized by their social circle. A white South African sex worker named Ethal, reported that she felt more accepted by her peers when she was a sex worker than when she married a black African man. For many in this situation, the threat of jail or of social censure led to self-imposed exile. In order to be with the one that they loved, they gave up home, family, friends and occupation.

As I have said many times, the first century Mediterranean culture was very different from our own. Greeks and Romans comfortably worshipped a number of gods. Their gods did not command the absolute loyalty of individuals but were variously responsible for the weather, the harvest and so on. It was no hardship for a Gentile to include Emperor worship to this diverse practice. On the other hand the one Jewish God demanded absolute loyalty and was worshipped only in the Temple in Jerusalem. Gentile gods could be worshipped wherever a Temple was to be found.

From a religious point of view, whether one’s starting point was as a Jew or a gentile, becoming a Christ-believer involved a radical realignment of one’s social, economic, religious and even political loyalties. Urban life was closely associated with both the local gods and with the imperial cult. It was essential for the well-being and protection of the city that all citizens fulfill their obligations to Rome and to the gods. Gentiles who came to believe in Christ could no longer associate with the gentile temples. When they stopped participating in sacrifices to the Emperor or to the local gods, they would be seen as putting the whole city in danger of losing the favour of the gods or the privileges extended by Rome.

If this were not enough to create tension, Engagement with the gods and their temples not only provided protection for the city, it was also central to the social life and cohesion of the community. Sacrifices of both meat and wine were part of the practice of worship. Temples were therefore not only gathering places for worship, but also marketplaces and venues in which people met to eat. Further, different gods were associated with different trades and the various guilds would hold their meetings in the relevant temple. A person who believed in Jesus was no longer able to visit the temple and so not only became isolated from his or her family and peers, but they were also excluded from membership in the guilds. This latter meant that they were not able to earn an income – at least not in the way that they had been used to. Christ-believers were regarded as dangerous because they placed their fellow citizens in jeopardy. They were isolated from their families and friends and unable to work.

The situation was not much better for Jews. Those who lived beyond Judea enjoyed many privileges that their fellow citizens did not. They were exempt from the Emperor cult and were free to send money to the Temple in Jerusalem. If some of their number chose to believe in Jesus, the whole Jewish community would be affected. Technically, Christ-believers were no longer Jews which meant that they were no longer under the protection of Rome. The problem for continuing Jews was that outsiders might not be able to distinguish the Christ-believers from the real thing. Jews were worried that they would be tainted by association and that they would be accused of sedition and lose their privileges. For this reason, among others, Jews too kept their distance from those who had come to believe in Jesus.

Whether Jew or Gentile, a person who chose to believe in Jesus was effectively cut off from all their previous relationships – family, friends and work. Faith in Jesus was divisive, potentially pitting “father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother,

mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law.” Jesus’ words introducing this passage are perhaps the most passionate and, dare I say, violent that Jesus utters. “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed! Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!”

This is not the first time that Jesus tells us that faith in him redefines what it means to be family, but this is the only time that he is explicit about the effect that coming to faith will have on relationships. In a culture in which family formed the basis for social relationships and for social cohesion, Jesus’ words will have been shocking, even frightening, but Jesus is describing the world as it will be for those who follow him. As he does on other occasions, Jesus is warning would-be disciples that following him means not only commitment but a willingness to leave everything behind to face a hostile and even dangerous world.

How reassuring these words must have been to those who found themselves ostracised and financially strapped as a consequence of faith? After all, isn’t this what Jesus said lay ahead? How difficult these words are for us in a world in which once again family is the bedrock of our society and, though the world is changing, a world in which having faith in Jesus puts us within, not outside the status quo? For most of us faith comes at no cost, only with benefits. The danger is that we will become complacent, that we will relegate Jesus’ uncomfortable words to irrelevancy instead of seeing them for what they are – a challenge to our complacency, a prick to our easy conscience, a call to action. Would our faith stand the test if it meant losing everything that is meaningful to us? Would we hold fast if we lost our work, our family and our friends? Would we stand our ground if society turned against us, harassed us, persecuted us or threatened to kill us?

The question is: What does our faith mean to us, and what are we prepared to give up for it?

What we don’t know is so much greater than what we do know

August 10, 2018

Pentecost 12 – 2018

John 6:35,41-51

Marian Free

In the name of God who stretches our minds and expands our imaginations. Amen.

Having been in Italy and finding myself in Geneva, I am conscious of the schisms created by the Reformation and the sometimes vast differences between the different arms of the Christian Church and of the passion with which members of different denominations hold (or held) to their truths. Arguments raged in my own tradition about whether to kneel for communion or to use the sign of the cross. There were some who died rather than renounce their position on particular issues and bishops who only two centuries ago went to jail for using candles as a part of the liturgy. Today, most of the animosity between traditions has disappeared. The ecumenical movement has led us to understand that the heart of our faith is the same even if some of the externals differ.

That is not to say that the churches have achieved unity – externally or internally. New issues have emerged that are at least as divisive as those of the past – the ordination of women and the marriage of same sex couples to mention two. Again, those on either side of the debate present their arguments with equal intensity and with equal conviction that it is they who are most faithfully interpreting the scriptures and the will of God.

Where we stand on these and other issues depends on many factors including our personal experience and the tradition in which we have been born and raised. Sometimes our opinion is formed or altered by our education or our exposure to those who differ from us – though it must be said that education and personal experience do not always challenge pre-existing views.

Our particular experience of church and of faith also impacts on the way in which we approach change. There is so much at stake that it can be very difficult, if not impossible, to change direction. To give a personal example, even though my sense of vocation was powerful and strong, there were moments when a verse from scripture made me waver, made me wonder if the opponents to the ordination of women did in fact have it right. My life’s experience and the teaching I had absorbed as a child were so deeply ingrained and so much a part of my understanding of salvation that it was hard to isolate the voice of the spirit from the accretions of practice and tradition.

So – perhaps we should not be so hard on the hapless ‘Jews’ who are Jesus’ opponents in John’s gospel. As we saw last week, Jesus’ communication could be confusing at best and obtuse at worst. Furthermore, he was taking traditions that had been held for generations and turning them upside down. In today’s gospel we hear Jesus claiming that he is to the Jews what the manna was to their ancestors. In fact he is asserting that he is much more. Using the language that God used to identify himself to Moses, Jesus claims: ‘I AM’. ‘I am the bread of life.’ ‘I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.’

Jesus, whom everyone in his audience knows to be the son of Joseph, is now insinuating that he is God. As God he is able to guarantee life eternal to those who believe. It is an extraordinary claim for which Jesus’ listeners are completely unprepared. Nothing in their past experience, nothing in their religious practice, nothing in their tradition or teaching could have led them to expect the outrageous claims that Jesus is making. It really is not surprising that they found what he had to say difficult and incomprehensible.

Perhaps the question that we should ask ourselves is not why Jesus’ opponents did not believe, but ‘what was it that enabled at least some to believe?’

Complacency and self-satisfaction can be the enemies of a deep and authentic engagement with the divine. They can give us a false sense of what should be and make us blind and deaf to what really is. We cannot, and will not, ever know a fraction of what there is to know about God.

Instead of arguing over trivial and superficial issues perhaps we as believers should unite in a concerted effort to suspend all our certainties and be caught up in the great adventure that is a relationship with God – Earth-Maker, Pain-Bearer and Life-Giver – who is ultimately beyond all our efforts to comprehend and who will always be beyond our grasp.

Opening the eyes of the blind

March 29, 2014

Lent 4

John 9:1-41

Marian Free

In the name of God who causes the blind to see and the deaf to hear. Amen.

Some of you may have seen the movie A Time to Kill. It is based on a John Gresham novel and set in the Deep South of the United States. A black man (Carl) is on trial for attempting to kill the men who raped and tortured his ten-year-old daughter Tonya. The evidence is clear and the white jury have no sympathy for the grief and rage that led the man to take justice into his hand. It becomes clear that he will be condemned and that he will receive the death penalty. His lawyer (Jake) tries to persuade him to plead guilty but Carl says to him: “If you was on that jury. What would convince you to set me free?” What follows moves and challenges me every time I think about the movie.

In his summing up, Jake takes the jury on a journey in their imagination. He describes what happened to the child – how she was abducted, raped so viciously that she would never have children, used as target practice – full beer cans thrown so hard that they tear her flesh to the bone. He tells how she was urinated on, had a noose place around her neck and hung from a tree and how when her tiny body proved too heavy for the branch, she was tossed back into the truck, driven to a bridge and thrown thirty feet into a river. “Can you see her?” he says.” “I want you to picture that little girl. Now imagine she is white.” At that point the penny drops for the jurors. At that moment, the child is no longer a stranger, no longer a member of a race for whom they have no respect. She becomes their own child – their daughter, their niece, their granddaughter. The horror of the crime and the violent grief of the father become understandable. They would have felt the same.

Of course, powerful as that is, it is fiction and it is set against a particular background. That said, it is a reminder that many of us tend to see the world in a certain way. We tend to be blinded by our experiences, by our cultures and our religious ideals. Whether we like it or not, most of us make judgements about other people. We create stereotypes that are difficult to break and make assumptions based on false or limited information. Sometimes our ideas change gradually as we get to know the person or group we have demonised. At other times we need something to shock us out of our complacency so that we can see the other for whom they are, not who we believe them to be.

Jesus is an expert at shocking people into a new way of seeing. He wants us to see things in new ways, not in the conventional, centuries old way of seeing things. He astonishes us by appearing to disregard the law, by healing on the Sabbath and by eating with tax collectors. His parables explode existing religious truths and force his hearers to reconsider their ideas about God and about other people. His teaching and behaviour are sometimes contradictory. In Luke, the story of the rich young man is followed by the account of Zaccheus. Jesus urges the rich young man to give away all his possessions then he commends Zaccheus who only gives away half of his possessions. It begs the question: What are we to do with our possessions? Jesus is not being fickle or obtuse, the contradiction and confusion have a purpose – they are designed to destablise our preconceptions, to make us dependent on God and to prevent us from believing that we can have all knowledge and all truth. If Jesus does not conform to the party line, and if his teaching is apparently then inconsistent it is impossible for anyone to claim that they fully understand or that they have a monopoly on truth.

The account of the healing of the blind man is a lesson about seeing – seeing differently. The Pharisees, who believe that they can see clearly are exposed as those who are blind whereas the blind man gradually comes to see who Jesus really is. The Pharisees who believe that they have nothing to learn are shown to be misguided and ignorant whereas the blind man who is aware how little he knows is proven to be the one who recognises the truth. The Pharisees are so locked into what they think they know that they are unable to change their preconceptions and expectations, whereas the blind man who recognises that he knows little is open to new ideas. He is aware that he has room to learn.

Throughout the story the Pharisees dig themselves into a deeper and deeper hole – demonstrating how little they really know. The blind man not only receives his sight, but allows himself to be enlightened and his ideas to be challenged. The Pharisees who represent the religious leaders, judge Jesus on outdated credentials – he is a sinner, he does not observe the Sabbath, he does not observe the law (9:16), they do not know where he comes from. The blind man uses other – also legitimate – criterion to accept that Jesus comes from God. Just as his forebears believed Moses because of the signs he performed so the blind man sees and believes in the signs that Jesus does – making the blind to see (9:16). He understands intuitively that God listens to one who worships him and obeys his will (9:31). The Pharisees believe that they give glory to God by rejecting Jesus, yet it is the blind man who gives glory to God by worshiping Jesus.

John’s gospel is written for those who will come to faith – that is ourselves. As witnesses to the drama that is unfolding, we are challenged to think about ourselves and our ability to see; to ponder whether we identify with the blind man or the Pharisees and to consider how much we know about and whether we are willing to know more. We are challenged to remain open and expectant, to allow God to reveal God’s self in ways that are unanticipated and that break apart our previous ideas as to who and what God is. We are warned against holding rigidly to preconceptions and assumptions that lock us into only way of thinking and that therefore lock us out of the truth.

The problem with believing that we know it all is that it can blind us to what is actually in front of us. confidence in what we know means that we see things from one point of view – ours. If we believe that our perspective is the only one that has a claim to truth, we are forced to protect and defend it even when the facts contradict it. The Pharisees were unable recognise Jesus because they persisted in their way of seeing things, even when Jesus’ actions seemed to put the lie to it. The blind man was not bound to one interpretation, one view of the world. He was willing to learn and to use what he did know in a different way.

Let us not be so self-assured, so confident in our way of seeing that we are blind to the presence of God or that we fail to see Jesus even when he is right in front of us.



%d bloggers like this: