Luke 18:9-14 The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector

 It is tempting to make the two people in the Parable of the Pharisee and Tax Collector into characters in a kind of 19^th century pantomime. The Pharisee is the bad character and we should boo him when he comes on stage, but have the opposite reaction to the poor, misunderstood, tax collector. But that’s to miss the point. The Pharisee’s explanation of himself before God is literally true. People in the time of Jesus would have recognised this. And that is why this parable would have had such an effect on the listener. Most of the early listeners would have been confused by his parable. How can the Pharisee not come back from his prayer justified? If he was lying, okay, he should be condemned like the tax collector should be condemned. However, if the Pharisee is faithfully following the Mosaic Law absolutely punctiliously, then why wouldn’t he be justified? (That means acquitted, not condemned by God.)

On the lips of Jesus hypocrisy doesn’t always mean what it means today. For us it means someone is a fake; that there is a mismatch between outward display and the heart. We could say that the Pharisee in today’s parable is a hypocrite, but he isn’t a fake. His heart and outward action match. But the Pharisee in this parable has matched his heart and his behaviour to an absolute pinnacle of obedience to outward law, but a heart that is not in love with God. For Jesus it is about outward obedience, but not only outward obedience. It must also be about the heart. The tax collector lacked outward obedience, but he knew what kind of a person he was. He knew he could make no demand of God. So, he humbly and directly prayed for mercy. That is all he had. Nothing but God’s mercy. And that humble petition is enough for God to do something with in our heart, even when our outward behaviour is still way off the mark.

On the other hand, the Pharisee had a consistency between behaviour and heart; but legalism doesn’t make the kind of heart we need before God. Knowing our need for God’s love, and seeking God’s grace in humility and with as much self-insight as we can muster, is what God requires of us. And even though the word ‘faith’ isn’t mentioned in this parable, that sounds like we are definitely in the ball park, if not on the pitch. 

But here is the problem. Try to obey the commands of Jesus and not let your heart be infected with a scrap of pride. It’s not possible. Jesus preaches that our goal is a correspondence between head and heart: a heart full of love and obedience displayed in our lives. We are to pursue (with a heart full of love) the righteousness of the Pharisees! I have not been able to do that. But the pursuit of this inner and outer righteousness of love, and my failure to attain it, has led me to see that God must supply that righteousness – inner and outer – if I am to attain a righteousness acceptable to God.  Jesus is that righteousness. Specifically, his life of obedience and his death on the cross and rising from the dead.

And that is another way of saying what the Old Testament reading today is saying. How do we get the written law, written on stone tablets, into the tablet of the human heart? God must do it. And when God does it, we will know and do what is required by heart. This is the New Covenant. 

But whose heart is the prophet talking about? Yes, our hearts, but first, the heart of Jesus. Jesus is the fulfilment of Jeremiah’s prophecy.  It is Jesus first before us. He is obedient by heart. And we receive his heart as the Holy Spirit is poured into our hearts, writing the law on our hearts. This is part of what we mean by the New Covenant mentioned today in the prophecy from Jeremiah, and the New Covenant remembered at the Eucharist today. (“This is my blood of the New Covenant …) In him the New Covenant is fulfilled, and in him we enter into that New Covenant.

Luke 16:14-31 The Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus

 It is important to notice that in this passage Jesus is no longer talking to his disciples. The previous parable of the Unjust Manager (Lk 16:1-13) was directed to his disciples. In that parable he says to his disciples that we should use mammon shrewdly to gain entry to the eternal homes. And Jesus finishes that sequence with the warning that we cannot serve two masters. (Lk 16:13) Let’s make God the unifying heart of our lives! That Jesus teaches his disciples this means that he knows his disciples don’t have unified hearts. Our hearts are divided and distracted by many things. And the antidote to this idolatry is to follow Jesus. We don’t follow Jesus because God’s love lives in us without competitors; we are disciples so that through following Jesus our hearts will come to love God alone, and all else through and because of this love.

And then, immediately after that parable and its teaching, from 16:14 onward, we are told that the Pharisees – “who were lovers of money” - ridiculed Jesus. But Jesus sees their hypocrisy. Their hearts do not match their outward piety, and they justify themselves in the sight of others. But God does not love outward show, but it is the heart, and the true heart, that God desires in us. Jesus tells them that the law is to be fulfilled, and not ignored or only acknowledged by outward behaviour. (16:16-18)

Then – and Jesus is still addressing the Pharisees not his disciples – he tells this parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man. It means something that the text deliberately has Jesus tell this parable to those who are lovers of money and will kill him, and not directly to his disciples.

But what does it mean? Sometimes, it is easier to say what a passage doesn’t mean before we turn to what it means. This is one of those passages. Here are some thoughts on what this passage does not mean.

• It does not follow from this parable that wealth is evil. It is not wealth that is the problem. On the contrary, wealth is a blessing from God. The problem is that we make wealth into mammon.
   
• It does not follow from this parable that we should feel guilty about wealth. The presence of poverty does not mean that wealth is morally wrong.
  
  
• And it does not follow from this parable that the presence of poverty means that the disciples of Jesus must universally be without wealth.

It does follow from this parable that the Pharisees, as opponents of Jesus, and who were lovers of money and hypocrites, rejected the law and the prophets and neglected their duty to the poor. So, just as in the parable, the rich man’s rejection of his duties to the poor and his rejection of the law and the prophets resulted in his rejection in the post-mortem reversal, so too the Pharisees are rejected. So, the parable is a parable of condemnation and rejection of the rich man and therefore (because the parable is directed to them) of the Pharisees. But the parable also points to the larger story of the gospel. The Pharisees reject Jesus in his ministry, preferring their vanity and love of money, and refuse to hear the call of God. And this rejection of Jesus will result in his crucifixion, and when he returns from the dead they will still reject him and his message! (Lk 16:31)

But is that all we are to make of this parable? No. Like any other parable of condemnation there is a message for everyone, whether disciple or not. In the previous parable of the Unjust Manager, the disciples were told to use their wealth to be welcomed into the eternal homes. (Lk 16:9) It is the divided human heart, the heart that prefers competitors to God, that is to be combatted by a generosity of giving and living. And Jesus then tells us that we cannot serve two masters. We are to serve God alone. (See also Lk 4:8 for an account of Jesus rejecting this temptation.) That Jesus teaches the danger of a divided heart to his disciples means that he knows his disciples have divided hearts. (Otherwise, why bother telling us this?) It is in the following of Jesus that our hearts will be purified. If our hearts become more and more divided, and gradually turn more and more to God’s competitors like mammon, then we will lose our discipleship. We will end up loving a competitor to God, not God. And that is the warning for all disciples in this parable and teaching (Lk 16:14-31), even though it is directed at the opponents of Jesus. The end point of the unhealed human heart is rejection of Jesus, and our rejection according to the parable.

(And remember, the full sweep of the good news of Jesus is for all people, even those who have rejected Jesus.)

Luke 14:25-35

 

The saying of Jesus to hate is harsh. But in the time of Jesus it didn’t carry the meaning we attach to it. It is more about attitude and action than emotion. It’s akin to choosing one over the other. But it is more than this, for the hyperbole points to the way in which the good in our lives so easily usurps the place of God in our hearts. (See Luke 16:13) Noting that ‘hate’ in this passage doesn’t mean exactly what we mean by it does reduce the shock somewhat. But there is still no escaping Jesus’ radical call to discipleship. His call remains urgent and uncompromising. And that’s classic Jesus. 

Situating this passage in the broader context of Luke 14 (and beyond) will help us understand it a little better. In Luke 9:51 Jesus sets his face to Jerusalem. He has predicted his death in Jerusalem, and he will do so again along the way. He will enter Jerusalem in Luke 19, and on this journey to his death and resurrection, Jesus will teach about discipleship, call people to follow him as disciples, and have this call rejected. This is important. The radical call matches his own self-sacrifice on the approaching cross. This call is so important that it even takes precedence over the (potentially) best parts of our lives. And subordinates to it even those duties that are rightly required of us. (See Lk 9:57-62.) 

So that is point one today: The urgent and resolute call to discipleship matches Jesus’ own determined movement to Jerusalem. He is not asking us to do what he has not himself done. He is the pioneer and perfector of our faith. (Hebrews 12:2) Most of Luke 14 occurs at a dinner party held by a leader of the Pharisees. (14:1) And Jesus teaches those present about the kingdom, humility, disgrace, and cost of discipleship and the cost of rejecting his call to discipleship. One of the parables he tells, and it occurs immediately before our current passage, is the parable of the invitation to a great dinner, and all the invitees decline. They decline because of important things like family and possessions. So, the slave is sent to gather in the poor, crippled, the blind, and lame. But there is still room! So anyone and everyone is then brought into the banquet. And those who rejected the invitation, we are told, will not taste the dinner. (Lk 14:16-24) 

(And as an aside, this three-fold structure of invitee – those who reject the invite, the poor etc, and anyone passing by – matches the flow of the gospel’s movement in Luke/Acts. The invitation that is Jesus is given to some who reject it, then it goes out to the poor, lame, etc, and finally (in Acts) whoever is passing by, including the Gentiles.) 

And now notice what Jesus says in today’s passage we must renounce if we wish to be his disciples. Family and possessions (Lk 14:26, 33), exactly what prevents the original invitees of the parable from accepting the invitation to the banquet. (Lk 14:18-20) So, today’s passage doesn’t come out of the blue. It follows directly the parable before it. This is part of the explanation of why the language in today’s reading appears so harsh. The other part of the reason why Jesus is so harsh today is because he knows the propensity of the human heart to let that which is good in our lives usurp the place of God. This is point two today: If we find Jesus’ resolute, radical call to discipleship and the accompanying admonition to ‘hate’ disturbing or offensive we are living in a bubble. The human heart is made for God but the universal tendency is for us to fill our hearts with that which cannot satisfy us. And we do this at the expense of God and our own good. 

People often say to me that they haven’t fallen into this trap. But if Jesus had made the characters in the parable of the invitees who decline the invitation speak, they would say the same thing! And sometimes people say to me it is a matter of balance. I like that, the problem is that I can’t find in scripture where Jesus says it. And – you’ve heard me say this before – the path for most people is not to give up everything to the point of destitution. 

For most people it is a matter of living in a world of responsibilities that include the use of wealth and family, both of which in scripture are blessings from God. And yet, all is to brought under the rule of the crucified-risen Christ in the lives of people like me whose heart is too easily swayed. Where to from here? (And what I am about to say applies to any of the hard sayings of Jesus and just as equally to any sin that weighs us down.) 

Point three today: let us follow Jesus. Let us learn to love him. Let us learn through Jesus to love God and each other, and our neighbours as ourselves. At this point you and I can be terrible disciples. Nevertheless, accept the call afresh and regularly. In prayer, in repentance, in life choices, through renewal that is often accompanied with a sense of failure. Notice that Jesus, when he calls disciples, never tries to discover if the new disciple is worthy. It is Jesus who makes us worthy while pilgrimaging with him on the way of the cross to the heavenly Jerusalem. We aren't worthy to be disciples because we are already perfect. We are made perfect through following Jesus.

Hebrews 11:29-12:4

The Book of Hebrews was written for a community of faith that was clinging to faith in Jesus, but only just. They were being persecuted by the world around them. That is always hard, but there is also always the discipline of being a Christian. Following the humble road of Jesus, and giving up life options because it is contrary to Jesus are part of the cross we carry like Jesus to share in his resurrection. Not to mention the hard work of forgiving those we don’t really want to forgive. Loving our enemies, maintaining the bonds of mutual affection with those who think in polar opposite ways to us. And this community was losing its faith. The joy set before them was waning.

 

An alternative was to look to angels for transcendent help. (See Hebrews 1 which is all about the superiority of Jesus over angels.) They could see Jesus. He was like them. And he endured the cross, as were they. But their faith that he would lead them to heaven was waning. (Looking for transcendence is not unusual; think of the popularity of western intellectual buddhism or the irrationality of crystals.)

 

The author reminds them that in Jesus they have the promise of God’s rest. God has declared this, they have ‘heard it’, and this voice should lift their eyes in faith to heaven. They aren’t being asked to ignore their suffering, but to look to Jesus who suffered the agony and shame of the cross, and he gives us a better hope than anything else people are tempted to follow or believe in. (Jesus is a better hope, provides a better covenant, is better than angels, provides a better sacrifice, and in him we can hope for a better resurrection, because he is the better high priest, the Son made perfect forever.)

 

In Hebrews 11 we are told of the great figures of faith of the past like Abel, Noah, Abraham and Sarah. They endured. They won the race. We could switch metaphors and think of them as a great rope of faith. All these figures are holding the rope, and Christ – the pioneer and perfector of our faith - has anchored this rope in God’s final rest, the heavenly Jerusalem. We don’t need to get out the proverbial machete and cut our way through the wilderness to the promised land. Jesus, the pioneer, has done that for us. We follow him.

 

So, let’s stay connected to the rope for the sake of the joy set before us. Despite all that has happened, and all that will happen, nurture the hope that is to come.  Christ is a greater hope than anything we can hope for in this life that is bound to this life only. 

 

But then comes the really audacious part. All these great figures of faith who have gone before us, who won the race, for our sake have not received what was promised. Their perfection awaits our arrival, so that we will all be made perfect together in Christ. The whole Body (of Christ), together. That’s audacious. We all understand that we might need the witnesses who have gone before us to encourage us in our faith. And we all need Jesus. But they need us to receive their final reward? What, generation after generation, waiting … for us? Yes, for all the people of God.

 

Salvation isn’t only about us, those we know or know of, those we love, or those we remember. Salvation is for all the people of God, and our perfection is found in Christ as one, his Body, together. This is why Jesus, the true Son, was sent: to bring home the full number of the children of God. So, keep hold of the rope. Help others whose faith is wavering. When your faith wavers, there is no shame in this. Everyone grasping the rope of faith has moments. But when our faith wavers, let’s seek out help so we can help each other nurture faith wherever it is that we gather together. And let’s gather in those called to join us in grasping the rope of faith.

 

The Day of Resurrection (Mustard Seeds 8)

 Ann Nadge, a poet I know, has distilled some of the posts from this blog into poetry. She has used my words verbatim, captured the essence of the post, and moulded it into a poet's vision. 

This poem consists of verbatim fragments from an original post on 19 April, 2025.

 

The Day of Resurrection

The death and resurrection

of Jesus together changed everything.

Jesus died an outcast,

rejected by all, judged a sinner

and worthy of execution.

Without the resurrection,

lost to history - just one more failure,

one more criminal, one more statistic,

lost amongst the dead of history.

 

The resurrection changed this -

If the 'Jesus thing' is only

about the resurrection,

why does the risen Jesus have nail holes?

The cross and its meaning cannot

be divorced from the resurrection -

God's "Yes!“ against human sin,

the nail holes in the body of Jesus,

part of the Christian revolution,

forgiveness through repentance.

 

Jesus died out of love for us,

death initiated, ended in love.

Human failure is judged -

It is love that judges, love that saves us.

The constancy of love demands

nothing more, or less than love,

disciples of that constancy.

The Cross of Jesus: A Reflection on Love, Judgement, and Obedience (Part 2)

 Good Friday

Judgement is less like the teacher telling you off and more like Jesus on the cross. 

 Jesus is on the cross out of love. Jesus on the cross condemns the sin that crucified him. In his innocence (Lk 23:47), sin is unmasked and its true nature shown: the absence of love. (And the darkness could not overcome it. Jn 1:5)

But this judgement is also a revelation. When Pilate brings Jesus out to the crowd he says, "Behold the man!" Or is could just as easily mean, "Behold humanity!"  This is what we do to each other, and this is what we have made ourselves into. Our fall is revealed to us in the flesh of one of us, Jesus Christ. But this is more than a revelation of who and what we are. This is a double revelation: who and what we have made ourselves into to be able to do this to one another, and also a revelation of God. 

"God so loved the world ..." (Jn 3:14)

Yes, God so loved the world that he sent his only Son. In Christ God suffers and dies at the hands of sinners to show us who and what we are. Christ's death wasn't a miscalculation or a mistake on God's part, to be corrected at the resurrection. Christ loved his own to the end - to the point of death on a cross - to simultaneously reveal the depths of God's love and our need for a saviour.

  But there is a third revelation. In the crucified Jesus, who dies for love, we see our true humanity. He revealed to us our distorted humanity in his wounds. Now his wounds (the price of love) reveal to us the love that is our true calling as humans.

Today we are invited to look at the cross. It is the revelation of love and our need of God's healing love. To look at the cross of Jesus this way is to be set on the path of faith and of healing the great need within us. Look and live. We see what we are now in the broken body of Jesus; but we also see on the cross the true humanity to which we are called: A faithful humanity, obedient to the loving will of God for the sake of others.

Let Us Love One Another: A Reflection on Love, Judgement, and Obedience (Part 1)

 Here is the first of three reflections used at Easter with a theme of love, judgement, and obedience. (Using John's Gospel as the prism to refract the light revealed to us in the cross and resurrection of Jesus.)

Maundy Thursday 

"Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end." (Jn 13:1)

 Jesus' walk to the cross wasn't a misjudgement on his part, or a miscalculation on the part of the Father, or the act of someone stuck between self-giving and self-flagellation. It wasn't the result of despair or frustration. The death of Jesus was the result of love. (Love on the part of Jesus - malignant violence on our part.) Jesus loved his own to the end. His death was for us and our good. 

 

And the death of Jesus was also because of his love for the Father. Jesus' love of the Father, shown in his obedience to the divine will, took him to the cross. (Jn 14:31; 15:9-10 ) But the cross was not only the result of Jesus' love of us and his love of the Father. The Father's love for the cosmos was the source of the Father's sending of the Son for our sake. ("For God so loved the world ..." Jn 3:16) And because of this constancy of love we know that God is love (1Jn 4:7-12, 16), the light of love. And although the darkness tried to overcome the light (Jn 1:5), we know that God is light in whom there is no darkness. (1Jn 1:5) 

 

Jesus symbolised his act of love and service on the cross in the washing of the disciples' feet at the Last Supper. Footwashing, the work of a slave, parallels the Son who emptied himself, taking the form of a humble slave, being obedient even to the point of death on the cross. (Phil 2:5-11)

 

But the footwashing is also about being washed by Jesus.  Peter could not conceive of his Teacher and Lord washing his feet. But it is because Jesus washes our feet/is crucified for us that he is our Lord and Teacher. (See Luke 23:35-38) And in this 'washing' we find the way to salvation. (Jn 6:68; 13:8; 14:6)

 

And our response? Jesus invites us into the constancy of the love of the Father and the Son through faith in him. (Jn 1:12; 11:25-26; 20:30-31) And we abide in this love of Father and Son through obedience to Jesus' command - to love one another. (Jn 13:34-35; 15:12-17) In this love we will know the Father's love, just as we will know the love of Jesus, the Son, and abide in their love. (Jn 14:21-24; 17:20-24) And with the presence of the Paraclete - another Advocate - within us, we will testify to the truth (of this constancy of love) and  receive all that the Father and the Son share. (Jn 16:13-15) And in this testimony we know the future: the glory of the love of Father and Son, abiding with us now, and eternally. (Jn 16:13) 

So let us love one another. To love one another is the master key to unlock the mystery of the cross and resurrection of Jesus. To love one another is the fruit of the cross and resurrection of Jesus. To love one another is to love Jesus and share in his love of the Father, and to enjoy their mutual presence of love in our lives. So, let us love one another.

Deeper Into Sin to be Freed (Mustard Seeds Poetry 2)

 

Ann Nadge, a poet I know, has distilled some of the posts from this blog into poetry. She has used my words verbatim, captured the essence of the post, and moulded it into a poet's vision. This is the second of more to be published over the course of the year.

This poem consists of verbatim fragments from an original post on 8 April, 2022.

 

Deeper Into Sin to be Freed

During Easter we are invited 

to 'walk' the path of the saviour- 

we read the story from Gethsemane 

to tomb in dramatic form; we take 

parts other than the role of Jesus. 

We walk the road from Gethsemane 

not out of guilt, an excuse 

to self-recriminate…. 

Nor do we grovel as we walk 

a religious version of a show-trial. 

Nor is the journey chastisement 

catharsis, some kind of pagan festival. 

 

Christians walk the Via Dolorosa 

as sinners in need of a saviour, 

to get off the see-saw, 

self-recrimination, criticism of others. 

Walking the way of the cross with the saviour 

brings with it freedom, 

because we are loved, 

that's the point of the Jesus thing – 

we don't have to hide from our sin. 

We don't have to be in the centre- 

we can let God be the centre 

and receive God's love and forgiveness, 

renewal and freedom.

Deeper into Sin to be Freed from it.

Walking the way of the cross during Easter is traditional. You can do it in Jerusalem (the via dolorosa), or closer to home you can do it at your local church. We are invited to 'walk' the path of the saviour each time we read the story from Gethsemane to tomb in dramatic form. I like the latter best when we (the congregation) take all the parts other than the role of Jesus. We walk the road from Gethsemane to tomb not out of guilt and as an excuse to self-recriminate. Nor do we grovel as we walk in a religious version of a show-trial. Nor is the journey an occasion of (inner) chastisement leading to catharsis, like some kind of pagan festival. We walk as sinners, sinners who know they need a saviour. It isn't hard to know our need: one only has to look at the newspaper of history, or one's own heart and experience, to see the universality of sin and our need to be saved from it.

People these days recoil from the term 'sinner'. In my experience, they cite either the self-recrimination that has gone with 'sinner' in the past, a self-recrimination aimed at controlling 'the sinner'. Alternatively, some people cite the way 'sinner' has been used to point the finger at others, with 'sinner' in this version of history partnered with judgementalism. 

Ironically, a culture that has given up on 'sin' and 'sinners' is captive to the very consequences it wants to avoid. Denying the universality of sin/human failure - that is, pretending that there is some part of me that is quarantined from the imperfect world I have grown up in - makes those very consequences more likely. In naivete about the world ("Let's all just be kind to one another" or "Why can't people just love each other?"), to extreme narcissism (think identitarian politics), and then onto scapegoating and cultural polarisation (think social media), we have core features of the contemporary cultural landscape.

Instead, Christians walk the via dolorosa as sinners in need of a saviour, and a saviour appropriate for our mutual sinfulness. Walking the via dolorosa as a sinner is, ironically, to get off the see-saw of self-recrimination and criticism of others. Walking the way of the cross with the saviour also brings with it freedom, and should make us more difficult to control through guilt. 

Why is this? Mostly because we are loved, that's the point of the whole Jesus thing. And as beloved, we don't have to hide from our sin. We can receive the salvation of the saviour. We don't have to be in the centre of the universe: we can let God be the centre and receive God's love and forgiveness, renewal and freedom.

 God's way of dealing with human sin is to go deeper into the human predicament by being a victim of sin. And we must go deeper into our sin by acknowledging our need for a saviour. This is the path that yields genuine repentance (not guilt), and we emerge with a new empathy for the human condition, which we share.

John 12:1-8 Mary, Jesus, and that Perfume

 “As the best thing is love itself, not the benefits which it confers, there must be no censure of its lavishness as disproportionate.” (William Temple, Readings in St John’s Gospel, p. 191.) 

 Imagine your brother has just died and three days later Jesus turns up. Jesus does miracles. “If you had been here he would not have died.” (Jn 11:32) That’s Mary of Bethany. She then goes off to mourn at the tomb. Jesus follows and raises Lazarus from the dead. 

 When Lazarus died, Mary did not fully comprehend the significance of Jesus, and especially, the meaning of his death. She understands that Jesus has the power to perform miracles. She does not yet understand Jesus fully, though. She will witness the miracle of the raising of Lazarus, and then understand the miracle as a sign pointing to the meaning of the death of Jesus.

 Fast-forward to the anointing, and Mary now understands. She has seen Lazarus raised from the dead. Her brother is alive once more. Later, when Jesus is at table in her house she does not come to him to acknowledge the miracle as such. The miracle is a sign of something greater. She now understands the miracle as a sign, and she is the first to come to this understanding of the death of Jesus in the Gospel of John. This is why she anoints Jesus for his death. The miracle brought life where there was only death, and as a sign the raising of Lazarus points to the life-giving death of Jesus. The death of Jesus will bring life, eternal life, and the Spirit welling up in the heart of the believer. (Jn 7:37) Where there is death, now there is life. (Jn 12:23-24) The cross will not have the odour of death, to be imprisoned behind a stone (11:39). Instead, his death will have the aroma of extravagance and life that fills the house and will not be contained. (12:3 and 20:1)

John 12:1-8 is the gateway from the public ministry of Jesus (of signs pointing to the meaning of his death) into the narrative of the Passion, that is, the death and resurrection of Jesus. It can be read profitably with John 11. (See Jn 11:2) This larger chunk (from 11:1 – 12:8) retains a focus on the death of Jesus throughout. It begins with the raising of Lazarus, and continues with the plot to kill Jesus. (11:45-53)  Ironically and unknown to him, the high priest, in justifying the plot to kill Jesus, speaks the truth about the significance of Jesus’ death. (11:50-53) They will kill him to eliminate him, but Jesus will go to his death as the one sent from God to unite all the children of God. And then there is the duplicitous Judas, who will betray Jesus. (12:4-6) 

 Mapped over this focus on the death of Jesus is the movement of Mary from tepid, half-understood faith, to a disciple who comprehends. She anoints Jesus for his burial, having kept the perfume for this day of symbolic burial. (12:7) She has not anointed Jesus as king/messiah (see Mark 14:3-9), but in a similar fashion to the way in which Jesus’ washing of his disciples’ feet is symbolic of a total cleanse (13:8-10), this anointing speaks of future embalming. (R.H. Lightfoot, St John's Gospel. A Commentary, p. 236)  This anointing is not a symbolic purification of Jesus. Soon, Jesus will symbolically purify his disciples as he washes their feet, but Jesus does not need purification, he will purify others (cf. Hebrews) and is therefore worthy of this great act of extravagance and love.  “She responds to his self-giving love by giving her all, giving herself in a beautiful, foolish and scandalous way.” (Jean Vanier, Drawn into the Mystery of Jesus Through the Gospel of John, p. 206)

The Surprising Mediator Between God and Humankind

This is right and is acceptable in the sight of God our Saviour, who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. For
there is one God
there is also one mediator
between God and humankind
Christ Jesus, himself human,
who gave himself a ransom for all. (1Timothy 2:3-6)

The baptism by John in the Jordan evokes some of the great moments in Israel's history, of failed covenantal righteousness and renewal offered. Think of the Exodus, liberation from slavery through the waters of the Red Sea. Think of the entrance into the Primised Land through the (temporarily) dry bed of the Jordan River. Followed by centuries of prophetic criticism and hope in a new covenant. 

In the Baptist, the offer of renewal is underway: a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins (Lk 3:3) in preparation for the coming of the messiah. (Lk 3:15-17) 

John preached for a response. (Lk 3:7-14) John called the people from their unfaithfulness and from the centres and people of power and importance into the wilderness (Lk 3:1-2), like returning from exile. (Lk 3:4-6)  
But there was a surprise in Jesus, the messiah. Jesus is God's radical turn to the sinner, displayed in a fashion that brought joy to some and opposition from others. In the table-fellowship of Jesus, his absolving of sins and healings, his relationship to the Law and the Temple, his parables and teaching, Jesus ran counter to the expectations of many. (cf Lk 7:18-23)

And this turn to the sinner is deepened in the cross. The rejection of Jesus by all leads to the greatest surprise: forgiveness of sins to those who rejected the offer of grace and forgiveness in the first place! And if that wasn't surprising enough, the one rejected is our acceptance of the offer of renewal. In Christ we are simulataneously forgiven and in his faithfulness, self-sacrifice, and surrender to God the covenant is fulfilled. The Law is written on a human heart. (The heart of Jesus, see Jer 31:31-34.) 

In Jesus we see that God is not a monster of our imaginations

When bad things happen it is easy to say something like, "What did I do to deserve this?" Probably nothing in the sense of the question above. God isn't punishing us when bad things happen. Of course, if we play with fire we get burnt, that is true. But that is not the same as saying that God is the author when bad things happen. This is so important. 'The gods' did bad things, just read Greek mythology! God does not. God dies on a cross for us, we did the crucifying, God did the rising. On the cross God judges human sin by being a victim of sin and raising the innocent Jesus from the dead. The risen Jesus sends out his disciples to preach repentance and forgiveness of sins, not vengeance. It would be wildly inconsistent for the Father of the Lord Jesus to then bring disaster down on our heads. 

People can also have a tendency to misinterpret history in a similar way. An earthquake is not God's punishment. We shouldn't impute to God the disaster that follows the earthquake. People seem to have been (and still are) infatuated with end-of-the-world scenarios. Whether divinely inspired or human-induced, people continue to guess the meaning of events and interpret them as coming from a malevolent or angry god (even secularised people have their own versions of this). In the past people have been obsessed with dating 'the end', and dates still figure prominently in all kinds of secular future dooms. Jesus tells us not to misinterpret the events of history. He knew people would say all kinds of things in his name, and make all kinds of claims. So he explicitly says, don't be fooled by false messiahs, and don't see God as the author of disasters. Disasters, whether human-inspired or not, will come, but don't make God out to be a monster. (See Mark 13:1-8) 

The event to correctly interpret is Jesus, his birth, ministry, death, and resurrection. God's response to suffering, evil, and death is not to make more of it. God’s response is to overcome suffering, evil, and death by surrendering to its power. Jesus, born in a stable, crucified and raised, interprets our history. We are loved, and in Christ our future is secure, even if it doesn't feel that way at times.

Crucifying the Dividing Walls of Humanity

I know that the obvious boundary in the Bible is Old/New Testaments. I prefer to make the split Genesis 1-11 and the rest. Genesis 1-11 contains those stories we might say are universal. I read them and understand that I am being described, as is the world, and our universal, human predicament.  (E.g. Noah and the flood, here.) God's response we read about from Genesis 12. (Here.) The universal predicament of humankind brings a particular response, God's call to Abraham and Sarah to leave their secure home and to wander the promised land in faith, and God promises that through them all the families of the earth shall be blessed. (Gen 12:1-3.) Paul makes much of this (Rom 4 & Gal 3) including that marvellous claim that this blessing to the Gentiles is the Gospel! (Gal 3:8) This blessing is manifest in the union of humankind through the dismantling of the barriers that divide us. (Acts 2:1-11 compare Gen 11:1-19 see here, here, here) These barriers that divide us are universal, and our universal predicament. They have as their root human envy, rivalry, arrogance, and the violence to maintain and create dividing walls, all to be found in increasing intensity as we read through Gen 1-11. Christ saves us from this predicament, by bringing us, Jew and Gentile, together through the cross. (Ephes 2:16, but Jew/Gentile as paradigms of all dividing walls, see Gal 3:27-29.)  And that is the extraordinary thing. Crosses maintain the barriers. Jesus, accused blasphemer, crucified to maintain the wall that divides, brings us together through that very instrument of violence and division. Through Jesus, handed over into the hands of sinners yet vindicated in the resurrection, Satan's ruse (here) is unmasked for those with eyes to see. That which divides us - the accusations, the pride, the rivalry, all of it - and that crucified Christ, is now crucified to us so that it is Christ who lives in us. (Gal 2:20)  

This is why St Paul rails against division and the sort of attitudes and behaviours that cause it. (1Cor 1:10-17, and notice he then launches into his great proclamation of the power of the cross, 1:18-25. See also Rom 12:3; 1Cor 8; 11:17-22; Gal 5:16-26.) Division in the church insults the Gospel itself, for our unity in Christ is integral to the Gospel, not an added on extra. If you don't believe me search and see how often Paul links poor behaviour and its renewal to the death of Christ and the death of our old nature. (E.g. Col 3:5-17.) And notice how Paul's explanation of faith, law, grace, and justification can lead to his reflections on God's promise to Abraham. (See Rom 1-3 leading into Rom 4, and then keep reading into Rom 5! Also, Gal 2:15-21 leading into Gal 3.) 

In an age of intensifying polarization, with accusation and counter-accusation, here is a mission for the traditional church. Traditional churches eschew fads, do not have a cause derived from Jesus (that is a cause having a life apart from Jesus) and are wary of the heightened emotionalism and easy judgements of the mob. Nurturing this and living into our unity in Christ, while still holding a variety of opinions on different topics (often divisive topics in the world around us) is not an easy road. But because it is the gospel itself it includes cross-work (Mark 8:34-35) but also freedom and human dignity, and the whiff of resurrection.

Who is this? Mark 4:35-41

 Without the cross, the answer to the question (about Jesus) "Who is this?" pops out wrong. But with the cross and the resurrection of the crucified, the answer is Christianity. Because of the cross and the resurrection of the crucified:

1. Christianity has a sensitivity to the voice of the victim and the human tendency to scapegoat. Where Christianity has taken root in a culture so too has the moral high ground of victimhood. (Look at the West now and the place of the voice of the victim. But this sensitivity is meant to be coupled with conversion to Jesus and his way of forgiveness to prevent making new victims.)

2. Christianity teaches of a God who is sympathetic to the human condition, for in Jesus God has suffered with us in the flesh. And it is through this suffering and death as a victim of human sin that God has brought about union with us. A union with us at our lowest point, i.e. as sinners.  (See Rom 5:6-11) One can never get to this spiritual insight without the cross (and resurrection) of Jesus.

3. And then, this crucified Jesus, now risen, offers forgiveness, not vengeance or 'justice'. (John 20:19-23) There is no line in the sand that to step over brings destruction. Instead, we discover the patience of God and space for human freedom, and the means to be transformed through repentance and forgiveness.  (2Peter 3:8-9) 

4. And in the space (to sin) that we see in the cross of Jesus, we see also a model of what creation is like. As Creator God does not transgress our freedom but gives creation space and its own integrity to be who we are, and in that space to be transformed by love. (1John 4:7-12)

5. To be Christian is to know God's love revealed in Christ and his cross and resurrection. And to be judged by this love, not the judgment of others or the judgment of self-loathing. This love that has given all and reaches the depths of who we are, asks of us everything. For it is in the spiritual renunciation of all that we believe we are that we transcend the boundaries of our current humanity, bringing to light that which is hidden. In other words, we learn to be loved and to love.

Satan Casting Out Satan

 When the opponents of Jesus turn up accusing him of being in league with Satan (Mark 3:22) he doesn't so much as deny it as play with it. It is not the ones we humans expel as evil/immoral/ etc who are in league with Satan, but the accusers (who believe themselves to be righteously casting out Satan) who are in league with Satan, the great accuser: Satan casting out Satan. (3:23)

This dynamic of expulsion is played out among us and through human history. It seems good and right, even necessary to expel. And its effects of a temporary peace (by expelling the supposed source of conflict/sin) reinforce and support the sense of virtue retained/regained. But this peace is temporary, for a house divided is inherently unstable. (3:24-26)

And Jesus will ransack the strong man's house by first disarming him, like a thief. (Mark 3:27; compare Matt 24:43, 1Thess 5:2, 2Pet 3:10, Rev 16:15) The strong man is Satan, and he will do this on the cross. Satan will cast out Satan, and Jesus, in the disguise of a criminal and immoral person rightly crucified, the lie of accusation will be unmasked and God's vindication of Jesus in the resurrection will give us eyes to see.

This is scapegoating, Satan casting out Satan. When we participate in scapegoating we are in league with the diabolical. Of course, we all think we would never do such a thing. No one ever does think that, we always think we are innocently and righteously identifying the problem (someone else). All kinds of self-righteousness accrue.  Social causes are vulnerable to being pulled into the diabolical. (Its why someone always ends up against the wall when the revolution comes.) Whatever you think of the righteousness of a pet cause (to say this should immediately give pause), the conditions for just such scapegoating are visible around us. 

The lie that allows humans to be content in self-righteousness is best maintained if the scapegoat is guilty of something. That way the fiction of their (whoever they are) guilt can have at least an air of credibility. Scapegoating pops up as sides and causes are taken, and as victims (of evil) and perpetrators (of evil) are discovered and denounced. Satan casting out Satan. As mentioned, it is best if there is some element of guilt present and some element of ostensible (self-)righteousness. But the guilt need not be related directly to the 'crime', only tangentially. But when the invective rises and continues to rise, when we are all forced to take a side, or when to not take a side is to be accused of being on the wrong side of history (siding with evil), Satan is casting out Satan.

Following Jesus asks us to be sensitive to the victims of the diabolical who are innocent of the crimes heaped on them (not necessarily innocent). To be a follower of Jesus is to renounce the false peace and feelings of righteousness that flow from Satan casting out Satan. At a minimum, to be Christian and part of a Christian community is to find our communion in love and forgiveness, not in expulsion.

Glorified Wounds

 Jesus is the Lord who came to save us by dying for us on the cross. The wounds in Jesus' glorified body remind us of the way in which we are saved. But they also remind us that our own wounds are much more than roadblocks on our way to God. They show us our own unique way to follow the suffering Christ, and they are destined to become glorified in our resurrected life. Just as Jesus was identified by his wounds, so are we. (Henri Nouwen)

The Wounds of Jesus are Not an Embarrassment

 The wounds of the Risen One are neither an embarrassment nor inconvenient.  The cross was not a mistake that needed Plan B to correct. If the wounds of Jesus were an embarrassment or an inconvenience we would not have an account of a Christophany of the Wounded-Risen One.  It is almost like Jesus wants his disciples to see his wounds.

In popular culture the afterlife is portrayed in ethereal terms with at least the world of suffering and death a past memory, or perhaps even ignored. Think of Dumbledore and Harry P speaking near the end of the movie series in a railway station of sorts. Like an escape from reality, a dualism with the unreal afterlife wholly disconnected from the evil world from which he has escaped. Not so the resurrected Jesus. He is no bodyless spirit or vision. The resurrection takes all that we are, and our histories, into God's future and transforms us. Resurrection has nail holes.

We should be rattled. Imagine seeing a dead man who is so visibly alive as the risen Christ yet has all the wounds of death. The kind of wounds that kill. It isn't enough to say that such a person is alive. It would be better to say that a dead man is alive. And that doesn't make any sense, or at least not in the way we ordinarily think of life and death. It wasn't just a matter of God reversing the death of Jesus, as though death was banished. It is more like God gave life to a dead man who remains dead, except that death has lost its sting, its meaning, and its power. Life and death, as two sides of the one coin as we experience life and death, no longer mean what we think they mean. Christ is risen!

I like that little bit in Colossians where we are told God made a public example of the rulers and authorities, triumphing over them in the cross. (2:15) When the risen Jesus flashes his wounds to his disciples (John 20:20; Luke 24:39-40) he is making a public example of his victory over death and the power of death. Not the public example of a Roman general in a Triumph. Indeed, the evidence of the triumph of God in Christ is exactly what Rome would see as signs of defeat. But, because Christ is raised (not just alive again instead of being dead), death has lost its sting, death has lost its meaning and power, the wounds of Christ are his Triumph.

The Hand and Feet of Jesus

 Jesus' hands and feet were not just anyone's hands and feet, but the signs of his real bodily presence. They were the hands and feet of Jesus marked with the wounds of his crucifixion. It is of great spiritual importance that Jesus made himself known to his disciples by showing them his wounded body. The resurrection has not taken his wounds away but, rather, they had become part of his glory. They had become glorified wounds. (Henri Nouwen)

The Death of Jesus v the Death of Socrates

The death of Socrates is very different from the death of Jesus. Socrates dies with equanimity, almost elegance. With a bit of philosophizing, he helps others see the necessity of his death, and so he then dies with great dignity. This is very different from Jesus. Jesus sweats blood. Forget the question of whether that is physically possible. It's a great metaphor for Jesus' inner anguish as he approaches death. 

At the last supper, Jesus gives a portion of bread to his betrayer. Is this an act of forgiveness, an offering of his 'body'? (See here.) Whatever you think of that, one can't help feel the poignancy of the moment. Jesus' world is collapsing and he still offers the bread to Judas. And then Jesus makes his way to Gethsemane. He needs his friends as his world darkens, but they fall asleep. "Take this cup from me ..." The God who has been so diligently responsive throughout his public ministry is now silent. Where will this end? On the cross, with loud crying (Hebrews 2:7) and a cry of lament, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" His inner turmoil is apparent as he experiences God's absence. Jesus dies a lonely, isolated figure, and I feel our common humanity in his suffering and anguish, made intolerable by desertion and godforsakenness. His end is extreme, but we know something of anguish, isolation, and suffering. 

Jesus' death is so different from the death of Socrates. It is hard to imagine Socrates crying over anyone, but Jesus cried over Jerusalem. Jesus felt a deep sympathy with those he healed, so much so that the New Testament says that, in respect of his healing ministry, Jesus 'took our infirmities and bore our diseases.' (Matt 8:17. See Isaiah 53:4-6.) Jesus is no philosopher like Socrates. He is a High Priest offering himself in the depths of his humanity and ours for the salvation of the world, a path that leads right through the middle of suffering not around it. Jesus could relate to people and heal them: not because he was distant from them, but because he knows us from the inside. (Heb 2:14-18) And it is why we can relate to God through him. We are not leaving behind our humanity when we come to God through Jesus, but are invited into a more intimate sharing of our common humanity. We are not less prone to inner anguish, but more prone to feel the world and its pain. 

The Joseph Story

 The Joseph story is one of my favourites in scripture. It doesn't get much more real (except perhaps the cross!). A husband and his two wives ("And it was Leah!), favoured sons, bitter rivalry and envy, betrayal, forgiveness, conversion, and through and in all this God's presence.

I have posted some material before on Joseph. Check out this post on the conversion that Joseph leads his brothers to, and the way in which God's response to evil is not a moralistic separation of the good and bad, neither is God's response a gnostic ignoring of evil, but joining the story and putting the evil on a broader canvas of God's purposes. ("God intended it for good.") Or this post, a short reflection on how Christ is feels no envy toward us, and that through his Spirit we need not be envious of him, for everything that we can receive has been given to us.