If you know the answer, ask bigger questions!
Weekly bible readings and reflections
Steadfast God,
you have enriched and enlightened us
by the revelation of your eternal Christ.
Comfort us in our mortality
and strengthen us
to walk the path of your desire,
so that by word and deed we may manifest
the gracious news of your faithfulness and love. Amen.
Isaiah 49:1-7
Psalm 40:1-11
1 Corinthians 1:1-9
John 1:29-42
The theme for the gospel for Christmas day was all about light and life, much like the Advent themes of joy, peace, love and hope. That theme of light rings through the readings for the whole season of Epiphany, the Twelve Days of Christmas.
The community scattered is not a safe place. To enter the world to be God’s light calls us to take risks, calls us to do new things in new ways, to engage in the world around us as God’s children.
The theme of light and life is nowhere more prevalent than in the gospel read on Christmas day, the prologue to the Gospel of John. Drawn from the creation account in Genesis that reads: In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God. And God said Let there be light. This celebrates the coming of Jesus for in him was life and that life was the light of all people. That light and life is now embedded in the community of faith, the church.
The church, the community of believers is and can be a sign of life and light in the world, a sign of hope, the Kingdom of God in action. Consider the food collections for community care, and money for PWRDF and the crisis in the Ukraine. These are things that our parish and many other congregations support, a culture of giving to others as a sign of God’s light and love.
At the same time, however, there is a call for us to reshape the church, to reconsider the role of the church as God’s action in the world.
Many people are talking about the essential characteristics of the church. On end of a continuum the church is a worship community, a community gathered for prayer and fellowship and mutual support.
On the other end of the continuum the church must become an incarnation of God’s love and light in the world not just a giving community but a community which stands with the suffering and the oppressed. A community which works in the world to relieve injustice, poverty, violence, and pain.
These two images of church, gathered and scattered must coexist, clearly we cannot be just one or the other.
The community gathered is a safe place, sheltered in prayer and ritual, word and sacrament.
The community scattered is not a safe place. To enter the world to be God’s light calls us to take risks, calls us to do new things in new ways, to engage in the world around us as God’s children.
And thus let us pray today:
That the light of faith which we celebrate in the birth of Jesus will light up our words and deeds, and that God among us and light in the midst of us will bring us to light and life.
Radiant Morning Star,
you are both guidance and mystery,
Visit our rest with disturbing dreams,
and our journeys with strange companions.
Grace us with the hospitality
to open our hearts and homes
to visitors filled with unfamiliar wisdom
bearing profound and unusual gifts. Amen.
Isaiah 60:1-6
Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14
Ephesians 3:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12
Every year at Christmas we hear the stories of the birth of Jesus and watch enchanted as the children act out the familiar roles and events: angels sing to shepherds, Joseph & Mary journey to Bethlehem, the baby “wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger,” the wise men coming at the end with their gifts. This popular pageant is a combination of the two separate stories found at the beginning of the books of Matthew and Luke, the wise men from Matthew’s birth narrative tacked on to the end of the story of the shepherds from Luke. Every year we hear and enjoy the story of Jesus’s birth, but we never spend time talking about the meaning of the stories; we present the story to children, but fail to discuss them as adults.
The stories of the birth of Jesus are filled with even more meaning beyond the often overlooked political dimension outlined here: a story about hope (because all babies are about hope for the future); a story for ordinary people (because the angels appeared to shepherds); a story about a star (symbol of light in a dark world); a story about wise men (and the search for wisdom); a story about love (Mary and Joseph’s love for their baby born in dubious and uncertain times); and a story, above all, about peace and goodwill on Earth. We all need to hear the story with our hearts and minds and respond with our lives.
Now there is actually a third birth narrative, and it helps us understand the other two: this third reading is from the book of Revelation, the last book of the Bible, written by John of Patmos at the end of the first century of the Common Era:
Chapter 12 A great portent appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. 2 She was pregnant and was crying out in birth pangs, in the agony of giving birth. 3 Then another portent appeared in heaven: a great red dragon, with seven heads and ten horns, and seven diadems on his heads. 4 His tail swept down a third of the stars of heaven and threw them to the earth.
Then the dragon stood before the woman who was about to bear a child, so that he might devour her child as soon as it was born. 5 And she gave birth to a son, a male child, who is to rule all the nations with a rod of iron. But her child was snatched away and taken to God and to his throne; 6 and the woman fled into the wilderness, where she has a place prepared by God, so that there she can be nourished for one thousand two hundred sixty days.
The tale is plainly mythological; it describes a woman about to give birth to a child “who is to rule all the nations.” A dragon waits to devour the child, but mother and child are rescued. The baby is clearly Jesus, and the dragon, the beast, is obviously Rome, the evil empire of that era, for later in the book of Revelation this same beast is described as a city built on seven hills that rules the world; in the first century, that could only mean Rome. Everyone knows the number of the beast, 666, and in numerology 666 stands for Caesar Nero, the emperor Nero, the first ruler of the Roman empire who actively persecuted the followers of Jesus.
This birth narrative by John of Patmos directly challenges Roman imperial theology, because the story mimics and subverts the story of the birth of Apollo, narrated in the myth of Apollo and Python. Apollo and his mother are threatened by the serpent Python but are rescued by Zeus; Apollo grows up and kills Python, thereby bringing light, order and reason to the world. The author of the Book of Revelation knows and echoes this story, but applies it to Jesus. In Roman theology, Apollo was the father of Caesar; all the Caesars of Rome are called “son of God” through Apollo. Nero, the beast, 666, sometimes even played dress-up as Apollo. John’s meaning is clear: Rome and its emperor are not Apollo, the bringer of light, but are Python, the ancient beast that seeks to destroy the light and to throw the world into darkness and chaos. The author of Revelation asserts instead that Jesus is the true light of the world. Jesus is Apollo—Rome and its emperor are not.
This political challenge to the authorities of Rome is actually developed in the familiar birth narratives from Matthew and Luke, but is lost to us unless we educate ourselves in the Biblical and historical context of the storytellers. The political conflict at the heart of Matthew’s birth narrative is the primary plot and theme: the magi, kings, wise men from the East, follow the star and ask Herod, the actual King of the Jews, the birthplace of a child who is to become King of the Jews; Herod tries to protect his own power and seeks to kill the child. Sound familiar? Matthew’s story presents a conflict between two kingdoms: the earthly secular one, ruled by Herod, the puppet king of Rome, and the kingdom of God, represented by a helpless, powerless baby, the son of a lowly carpenter; that the child survives Herod’s slaughter of all Jewish male infants under the age of two, the slaughter of the innocents—an incident not found in history—suggests hope for the birth of a kingdom based on justice and righteousness, a kingdom of peace and goodwill.
The political conflict of Matthew’s story should alert us to that same theme in Luke’s version; Luke’s birth narrative is the more familiar, popular version of the birth of Jesus, probably because it doesn’t seem to be, on the surface, about politics—it focuses on angels and shepherds, not kings. But Luke’s story is actually even more subversive than Matthew in its political references. All of the titles applied to the baby Jesus in Luke’s birth narrative: Divine, Son of God, God, God from God, Lord, Redeemer, Saviour of the World, all of these names at the time the story was written near the end of the first century were applied by Roman imperial theology to the emperor of Rome, Caesar. Caesar, descended from a god, from Apollo, was to bring peace to the world, but the Pax Romana, the peace of Rome, was brought about through violence: those Roman roads, some of which you can still see today across Europe, were the infrastructure that allowed Rome to dispatch its legions quickly anywhere in the empire where they were needed to quell revolt and to impose Roman rule. It was a vicious rule of violence: if the legions came to town, they killed all the men, raped and enslaved the women and children, destroyed the crops and the town completely. The peace of Rome was peaceful only for the victors, the Romans; for its victims it was cruel, harsh oppression.
To present the Christ child as superior to Rome’s divine emperor, as is done in all three birth stories, was considered utter treason in this Roman ruled world: the nativity stories assert that Jesus is the Son of God, and the emperor is not; Jesus is the saviour of the world, and the emperor is not; Jesus is Lord and the emperor is not; Jesus is the way to peace on earth and the emperor is not. That’s why Jesus died on the cross on Good Friday and why all his disciples were executed and why Rome killed so many followers of Jesus in the coliseum: Christ and Christians threatened the power of Rome and in particular, the ruler of Rome, the divine son of a god himself, Caesar.
Jesus is presented in these three birth narratives as light shining in the darkness. Do the Herods and Caesars of this world seek to extinguish that light? Yes. Does the light still shine in the darkness? Yes. Archbishop Oscar Romero, a twentieth-century Christian martyr killed in 1980 by the powers that ruled El Salvador, once said that we are called to be Easter Christians in a Good Friday World, in a world still ruled by the descendants of Herod and Caesar. So, also, we are called to be Christmas Christians in a world that still descends into darkness. But Good Friday and the descent of darkness do not have the final word—unless we let them. Jesus is the light in the darkness for those who follow his way of peace and justice.
As we enjoy these stories each Christmas, and tell them to our children, the drama and the imagery work on our imaginations as all great literature does. It is important that both adults and children reflect on their themes. The stories of the birth of Jesus are filled with even more meaning beyond the often overlooked political dimension outlined here: a story about hope (because all babies are about hope for the future); a story for ordinary people (because the angels appeared to shepherds); a story about a star (symbol of light in a dark world); a story about wise men (and the search for wisdom); a story about love (Mary and Joseph’s love for their baby born in dubious and uncertain times); and a story, above all, about peace and goodwill on Earth. We all need to hear the story with our hearts and minds and respond with our lives.
God of all ages,
in the birth of Christ
your boundless love for your people
shattered the power of darkness.
Be born in us with that same love and light,
that our song may blend with all the choirs of heaven and earth
to the glory of your holy name. Amen.
Isaiah 9:2-7
Psalm 96 (sung)
Titus 2:11-14
Luke 2:1-20
Throughout Advent we have been reflecting on the themes of hope, peace, joy and love. They are all the wonderful gifts we are each given at Christmas. God enters our time and space, our bodies, lives and our reality and dwells with us in order to give us these gifts.
We are each one of us the beloved of God.
In Charles Dickens classic, ‘A Christmas Carol’, the character Scrooge is taken on a journey which allows him to see his life through a different lens, in the end although nothing in the world or in Scrooge’s life has actually changed, everything is different. It’s because Scrooge is different and what has changed is how he sees the people and the world around him and even how he sees himself.
This is the gift we receive from Jesus at Christmas, the world around us is still filled with violence, our lives are affected by sickness and death but how we react to the world, how we see it through the lens of Christmas changes everything. Christ coming to us shows us in technicolour beauty and angelic singing that God loves is, is with us through all that happens to us, never has and never will abandon us and that is what our hope is founded on. This is how we can access peace in the midst of turmoil, how we can experience joy even at times of sadness.
We are each one of us the beloved of God. Amen.
Shepherd of Israel,
may Jesus, Emmanuel and son of Mary,
be more than just a dream in our hearts.
With the apostles, prophets, and saints,
save us, restore us,
and lead us in the way of grace and peace,
that we may bear your promise into the world. Amen.
Isaiah 7:10-16
Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18
Romans 1:1-7
Matthew 1:18-25
What is it like to be asked to do something by God, especially when we have already made a decision on what we are planning to do, which turns out to be against or different from what God is asking of us? Do you hear what God is asking of you; do you ignore it or do you embrace it, possibly with a bit of fear?
This child that Mary was going to have came from the love of God. Love is our fourth candle to be lit this week. I think this is most appropriate to be the last of the four that we light. This love for us, to receive a saviour from God becomes more powerful as each week of Advent goes by. For some of us Christmas can be a rough time, but this power of love can do more than we can ask or imagine.
Our Gospel reading for this week focuses on Joseph and his answer to God when he hears that Mary is with child. When I first looked at this reading from Matthew I looked at the NIV version so that is what I prepared for. One word in particular is added to this reading that is not in the NRSV.
Here is the paragraph from NIV
“This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be pregnant through the Holy Spirit. 19 Because Joseph her husband was faithful to the law, and yet did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly”
The word ‘divorce’ confused me. If Mary and Joseph were not yet married, how could they get a divorce? It turns out that the word ‘engagement’ was quite different than it is today. Marriages were arranged by the parents of the bride and groom sometimes even without the couple knowing about it. The families would enter into a binding contract and at that time Mary and Joseph would have been considered married. But the ‘honeymoon’ would not happen for what could be up to a year. This ‘time between’ is where the angels come into play. First for Mary and then Joseph in a dream.
I suppose that the dream each of them had would have been ones that they would have not forgotten when they woke up in the morning, but a dream is just a dream isn’t it? Some of them get so far fetched that you wonder where that came from and just shake it off as a dumb dream. This dream for Joseph meant he had to have faith, that it was true, as far fetched as we all would have thought it to be. (Mary was to have a child and the father of that child was of God). What amount of faith does it take for someone to say yes to this? I can’t imagine someone with just a little faith following through with it. What if Joseph had said no? God gave us free will and allows us to make our own choices, however many of us know how pushy God can be when he really wants us to go down a certain path. What would it have meant for Mary and Jesus if Joseph said no? Mary and Jesus’s life would have been a lot more difficult. Even today, it isn’t easy to be a single mom, but back then things would have been much more challenging and possibly impossible. But then again nothing is impossible with God. I suppose he would have figured out a way to have the answer from Joseph be yes eventually.
This child that Mary was going to have came from the love of God. Love is our fourth candle to be lit this week. I think this is most appropriate to be the last of the four that we light. This love for us, to receive a saviour from God becomes more powerful as each week of Advent goes by. For some of us Christmas can be a rough time, but this power of love can do more than we can ask or imagine.
Sometimes for me a certain line in a hymn, a prayer or even a story can jump out at me and stay with me for a long time. There are 14 words that we have heard on Sunday mornings recently that are so important for me.
“God could not love you more than God loves you at this very moment.” When I hear these words on Sunday morning that are said with compassion, I am filled with Peace, Hope, Joy and Love.
Blessings to all of you this Christmas and always.
O God of Isaiah and John the Baptist,
through all such faithful ones
you proclaim the unfolding of future joy
and renewed life.
Strengthen our hearts to believe your advent promise
that one day we will walk in the holy way of Christ,
where sorrow and sighing will be no more
and the journey of God’s people will be joy. Amen.
Isaiah 35:1-10
Luke 1 46b-55
James 5:7-10
Matthew 11:2-11
All four gospels begin the story of Jesus with reference to the prophet John the Baptiser; indeed, the gospel of John refers to him almost immediately in the familiar, beautiful opening hymn: “There was a man sent from God whose name was John.” The entire opening chapter of Luke is all about the birth of John; the birth of Jesus happens in chapter two. The season of Advent focuses much on John and his mission.
Advent is about readiness to acknowledge, receive, and participate in the revolution that clusters around Jesus. As followers of the way of John and Jesus, our discipleship is to call the prodigal home, to call all God’s children to return from their exile, to call all mankind to turn around, to radically centre their lives in God’s love and to reach out with compassion to their brothers and sisters, that they might all know they are beloved of God.
This introduction of John the Baptist helps us to understand Jesus more clearly. John was an important first century prophet acting in the tradition of OT prophets; indeed, his appearance is compared to Elijah. He echoes the OT in his call for repentance: “Prepare the way of the Lord; make his path straight.” He comes offering “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins”; in doing so he openly challenges the temple authorities who saw themselves as the only authority to mediate between God and mankind. He pronounces judgment on the rulers of his time, and this opposition lands him in jail and eventually costs him his life. This anti-temple prophet, in the OT tradition, has a tremendous influence on Jesus of Nazareth.
If John and Jesus were indeed cousins, as implied, they may have played together as children, grown up together. In any case, Jesus was obviously attracted to John the Baptist; he must have heard John’s “crying in the wilderness,” and came to join him, to learn from him. We have no idea how long Jesus sat at John’s feet as a disciple, but it is logical to assume it was a good length of time for Jesus to learn from interaction with John. At some point John must have realized that his student surpassed him in wisdom and stature, for John after a time points his own disciples toward Jesus; in the first chapter of the gospel of John, Jesus’ first two disciples are plainly identified as John’s disciples. In Matthew’s gospel Jesus begins his ministry “when he heard that John had been put in prison.” From that moment Jesus began to preach, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near,” the very same words the writer of Matthew placed in John’s mouth: “In those days John the Baptist came, preaching in the wilderness of Judea and saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Jesus picks up where John leaves off.
The gospels have John announcing clearly that Jesus is the “coming one,” echoing the language of the prophet Malachi, the last book of the Jewish Bible in Jesus’ time. The gospel writers, writing several decades after the events of Easter, portray John as the forerunner of Jesus. However, when John the Baptist is imprisoned by Herod, he sends messengers to Jesus asking, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” John is obviously unsure at that point. Both the gospel of Matthew and Luke have allowed considerable time to pass before this incident, several chapters in fact, during which the reader has seen Jesus in action, preaching, teaching and healing. And Jesus answers John’s question in the language of the OT: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised and the poor have good news brought to them.” Jesus answers John in the metaphoric language used to describe the kingdom of God, taken primarily from the book of Isaiah, chapter 35, and also echoed in psalm 146. Jesus is not so much giving a literal summary of his ministry, as he is announcing, in his imagery, that the kingdom of God is near. The gospels of Matthew and Luke present Jesus as the fulfilment of OT messianic prophecy, as the new Moses through whom God will save his people. The OT references remind us that the gospels were written to make theological points, to interpret the experience of Jesus in light of OT understandings of God. Jesus’ actions declare the kingdom of God is at hand and he is telling John in code, through the Biblical imagery he recites, that the kingdom of God is here, that he is “the one who was to come.” Jesus reassures his teacher that he has learned his lessons well, that he is a prophet in John’s tradition, that he will build on John’s foundation.
And that foundation, as all the gospel writers make clear, is the OT prophetic voice. “Prepare the way of the Lord; make his path straight” (Luke 3:4): the gospel writers put into John’s mouth the call for repentance used at the start of Rosh Hashana, the Jewish new year. Repentance means to turn around, to alter one’s direction, to align one’s life along the righteous path that God desires. It is a call for the exile to return, for the wandering one to come home. Furthermore, John the Baptist’s words in the fourth gospel apply the imagery of the exodus to Jesus: “Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world.” The reference is from the feast of Yom Kippur which ends the ten days of fasting during Rosh Hashana, when the sacrificial lamb was slaughtered and eaten. It also refers to the Lamb of the exodus which was killed and roasted, the blood smeared over the lintel to protect the inhabitants from the angel of death; however, it is important to remember that the rest of the lamb, the cooked lamb, was packed away as food for the coming journey out of exile toward the promised land. The Lamb of God as food for the journey: the emphasis can be placed not so much on the blood of the lamb to avoid death, as on the feast of the lamb to bring life. The Lamb of God travels with us, to nourish us on our way. Emmanuel: God with us. Following Jesus is about following the way—a commitment to a path of personal transformation and of confrontation with social systems which dominate and suppress people: “Make straight the way of the Lord.” Jesus learns this way from John. John the Baptist’s ministry connects Jesus to a rich OT prophetic tradition, and Jesus models himself very much after his mentor. The parallels between them are striking: both men call for repentance, both challenge the temple authorities, both pose a threat to the secular powers, and both are executed. The disciples of Jesus follow this example and they too are all executed.
The background in the introductory material of all four gospels is the mission and fate of John the Baptist. We encounter during Advent the story of the hopes around John’s birth and his proclamation: “The voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘Make ready the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’” No one in that time had seen anyone quite like this man John with his wild wilderness garb, his diet of locusts and honey, his language, his fierce and unaccommodating judgement and condemnation: “Oh you brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” The gospels show how John dared to challenge the way things worked at every level–religious, personal, economic, political and social; he told all these people how to change the way they lived in light of what God was about to do. His message was so powerful and convincing and inspiring (if also fearsome!) that the people, which here implies not just those who came out to see him, but people in the region generally, started considering the possibility that John might be the Messiah. We cannot understand the way of our Lord revealed in these passages apart from the context of challenge and threat—and good news, too–posed by the message and ministry of John the Baptist. To do so is to distort what Matthew and Luke want us to hear clearly. The birth and ministry of Jesus constitute a social revolution that keeps reverberating through every time and place.
Advent is about readiness to acknowledge, receive, and participate in the revolution that clusters around Jesus. As followers of the way of John and Jesus, our discipleship is to call the prodigal home, to call all God’s children to return from their exile, to call all mankind to turn around, to radically centre their lives in God’s love and to reach out with compassion to their brothers and sisters, that they might all know they are beloved of God.
Labouring God,
with axe and winnowing fork
you clear a holy space
where hurt and destruction have no place,
and a little child holds sway.
Clear our lives of hatred and despair,
sow seeds of joy and peace,
that shoots of hope may spring forth
and we may live in harmony
with one another. Amen.
Isaiah 11:1-10
Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19
Romans 15:4-13
Matthew 3:1-12
ADVENT 2—Today’s Gospel reading is from Luke 3: 1-6
Simply, John the Baptist arrives on the scene—administering a baptism in the Jordan calling people to repent—to turn from their current path to faithfulness to God. John grew up with Jesus and thus had a firm idea of what Jesus’ prophetic ministry was about.
Now water cleansing for the forgiveness of sins had its roots in the OT and a long tradition with the people of Israel—but the word baptism came to us from the Greek in the NT baptizo, to dip and described the physical act not the underlying spirituality.
For Jesus, God was immanent, present, now in our midst. The term that might describe this is ***Godness***, where we find the presence of God.
This was an adult rite, a believer’s baptism, a tradition carried on in many Christian communities. Most of us and our children were baptized as infants (a topic for another day). One thought I had was that there is no evidence in the NT of a repeated act of repentance such as one might find in the church’s practice of weekly and or daily confession of sins (also a topic for another day).
The Gospel is the Good News brought by Jesus and that Good News is that the presence of God is at hand, or in language from the OT the Kingdom of God is at hand.
That is the Good News taught and practised by Jesus that God is with us and that loving neighbour is loving God. We need to take care that we listen to and follow the faith of Jesus; what did Jesus say and do? and what did he teach about God?
Unfortunately Christianity has been and continues to be more focussed on belief in Jesus and interpreting his death as a substitution for the sins of humanity, developing doctrine and liturgy with that sole focus and losing sight of that Gospel. Or presenting the Good News only as Jesus death and resurrection.
The Gospel or Good News is about the presence of God in our everyday lives, this is what Jesus taught and lived.
So where is God? When we think of war, poverty, oppression and injustice, we call on God but it is my firm belief that God will not selectively intervene in the laws of nature or the free will of humanity. Up until Jesus taught that the presence of God is in our midst, scripture described a transcendent God, a God coming from up there or out there and many people still think about God as separate and above.
For Jesus, God was immanent, present, now in our midst. The term that might describe this is Godness, where we find the presence of God.
God, that presence, is in the earth, the sky, and the sea, and in all living things. All things, the earth, the sky, the planets, the cosmos are made of God. They flow from God and this means they are made of God, not our familiar ‘made by God’.
We, humans, are not separate creations but part of the continuum of God creating we are items of Godness just as the earth, sea, sky, and all living things. Thus somewhere in our heart/brain/soul is the creative spark of divine life. All the great religions of the world, Hebrew, Christian, Muslim, Hindu and Buddhist given credence to humanity’s quest to be open to oneness with divine life.
Much of humanity might live in blindness about that divine spark, about who we are and where we are going, how we can find hope, peace, and justice when the powers of evil and death rage about us.
The task or challenge for us during this season of waiting and hoping is to find that spark, nurture it, and share it, in our quest to follow the Way of Jesus.
Unexpected God,
your advent alarms us.
Wake us from drowsy worship,
from the sleep that neglects love,
and the sedative of misdirected frenzy.
Awaken us now to your coming,
and bend our angers into your peace. Amen.
Isaiah 2:1-5
Psalm 122
Romans 13:11-14
Matthew 24:36-44
Many of us belonged to Girl Guides/Boy Scouts in our youth. The motto of both these groups is, “Be Prepared.” This mostly refers to being prepared in terms of life-saving resources, and staying one step ahead in case of an emergency, but it can certainly pertain to emotional readiness as well.
The first candle this year represents peace, peace during the difficult times in our lives, the happy and even mundane times, and especially during the difficult period of waiting.
During this time in the Bible, God was speaking through his Prophets, instructing them to tell the whole world that they needed to “be prepared” for God. How can we do that? One way we prepare during Advent is to light four candles on our Advent Wreath, while praying for the arrival of our Messiah. The first candle this year represents peace, peace during the difficult times in our lives, the happy and even mundane times, and especially during the difficult period of waiting. Waiting for our Messiah is hard, but it is also exciting.
Yet there are many periods in our life where we are waiting for something that we long for, cry out for, and aren’t even quite sure whether or not we will receive it. May God reward us for our patience and faithfulness. May we ask him to remind us that his timing is always perfect, and that the reward is always worth the wait. Especially this reward, the birth of a sweet baby, the Saviour of us, and of our world. Amen!
Matthew 3: 1-12
When a Bible story has a lot of detail, the writer is saying: these events really happened, just as they are described. The John the Baptist story, therefore, has much to say to every reader, then and now.
The story of John the Baptist makes clear: God can and does invite everyone into God’s presence and ministries. I think the author of Matthew’s point is: if God can invite and enable such an odd duck as John to practice such an amazing ministry, there is hope for us, too.
John the Baptist began his adult life as a social misfit. His manner of dress; living alone in the desert; manner of speech – which was rather accusatory; all these characteristics describe John as an odd character. His clothing, diet and lifestyle made him more than an object of curiosity – or rejection – by people. His life choices and manner of speaking got people’s attention and derision.
Rather than invite and encourage people to hear his good news about the Messiah, John’s message was confrontational and judgemental. We can only imagine how people who heard him would react! Moreover, the way he addressed the Pharisees and Sadducees – men, who had dedicated their lives to following and serving God – was indefensible. “You brood of vipers” was an inexcusable way to speak to anyone!
John the Baptist’s point in addressing everyone who heard him was: just because we share a common ancestor (Abraham), and all of the pious claims its religious leaders have taught ever since, does not make us any different from anyone else in God’s love. All people are loved, equally, by God. Everyone is judged by God the same way. In other words, no one is better than anyone else just because of ancestral and religious claims.
For all of John’s oddness etc., he did invite people to be baptized by him. Baptism, then, was of repentance – or, turning toward God. All of us sin; it’s part of our nature. We will never stop sinning – again, because it is our nature. But as we turn to God – as a sunflower turns to the sun – we receive God’s love and forgiveness for the mistakes we have made. In Baptism, we deliberately choose to accept God’s promise, that the Holy Spirit will guide and bless us always.
We learn from John’s message, and modern teachings, that baptism is an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace. It is not a special badge that makes us better than other people. As we learn in subsequent Gospel stories and Acts, people were blessed by the Holy Spirit just as the baptized were/are. What God does is all about God – not us. Our turning (repentance) to God is our deliberate way of asking the Holy Spirit to come into our lives.
So what?
The story of John the Baptist makes clear: God can and does invite everyone into God’s presence and ministries. I think the author of Matthew’s point is: if God can invite and enable such an odd duck as John to practice such an amazing ministry, there is hope for us, too. If John’s verbal attacks on religious leaders brought positive changes in people’s lives, what can Good News, patience and love do?
So, the story of John the Baptist is not just an eyebrow-raising tale about an odd character. It is a proclamation of Good News for everyone.
D. Browning
God of all people,
from every tribe and language; you called true witnesses
who sang your praise, lived your grace and worked for peace.
May we share their faith and live by their example,
so that we might be a blessing to the hunger of your world;
through Jesus Christ, whose body we are. Amen.
Wisdom 3:1-9
Psalm 116:1-8
1 Peter 3:1-9
John 6:37-40
Gospel reading: John 11: 1-7, 17-27
I have used my prerogative as priestly presider to choose a different gospel reading than the one appointed for today by the revised common lectionary. John 11, the story of the raising of Lazarus, is appointed for Lent 5 in year A, but I simply can’t wait until next March, Lent 5, to share the exciting research that has been done on this passage. Diana Butler Bass, noted church historian, has summarized in a recent sermon the biblical research of her friend, Elizabeth Schrader, and it will blow your mind, for it changes so much of our understanding of Jesus, Mary, the gospel writers, church history—everything changes as a result of this biblical research. Butler- Bass’s sermon lasted 40 minutes, but I’ve got only 13 this morning. Here goes:
…sometime in the fourth century, someone had altered the oldest text of the Gospel of John and split the character Mary into two. Mary became Mary and Martha. She went through the whole manuscript of John 11 and John 12, and lo and behold, that editor had gone in [and] at every single place and . . . moment that you read Martha in English, it originally said, ‘Mary.’ The editor changed it all… Every pronoun is changed. Every singular “sister” is changed to the plural “sisters”. So that the story becomes a charming story about Lazarus and the resurrection and his two lovely sisters, Mary and Martha.
Elizabeth (Libbie) Schrader is currently a PhD student in New Testament Studies at Duke University, but when she was a Masters student at General Theological Seminary in New York City, she examined the oldest known version of John’s gospel, called Papyrus 66, created around the year 200, and she discovered something that no one else had ever noticed. She found that the text of John 11 and 12 had been edited, altered, changed utterly. To put it simply, in the original Greek version of John 11 and 12, there is no character named Martha. Martha has been added, inserted into the story.
Our text of John 11 begins “Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister, Martha.” We all assume we know this family, right? We read about them this past summer in Luke 10 when busy Martha complains to Jesus that Mary isn’t helping serve the guests. Well, our assumption may well be wrong. The original Greek text of the oldest known version of the gospel of John actually says, “Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, at the village of Mary and his sister, Mary.” In the original text of John 11, this Lazarus has only one sister, and her name is Mary. We have two stories about two different families.
Someone edited John 11 in Papyrus 66 and removed one reference to Mary and created a Martha, actually changed the spelling of Maria to spell Martha. I studied enough Greek to know that it would be pretty easy to make the Greek iota into a theta, the “i” into a “th.” And where the original text refers to “his sister, Mary,” the scribe altered it to read “her sister, Martha.” Butler- Bass summarizes the moment this way: “Schrader sat in the library with all of this, and it came thundering at her, the realization that sometime in the fourth century, someone had altered the oldest text of the Gospel of John and split the character Mary into two. Mary became Mary and Martha. She went through the whole manuscript of John 11 and John 12, and lo and behold, that editor had gone in [and] at every single place and . . . moment that you read Martha in English, it originally said, ‘Mary.’ The editor changed it all… Every pronoun is changed. Every singular “sister” is changed to the plural “sisters”. So that the story becomes a charming story about Lazarus and the resurrection and his two lovely sisters, Mary and Martha.”
But John 11 is not about them at all, it’s about a different Lazarus and his sister Mary. Lazarus is never actually mentioned in Luke 10; Martha welcomes Jesus “to her home.” Martha and Mary of Luke 10 live “in a certain village”; the two siblings of John 11 live in Bethany—“Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary.” There’s something about Mary. Who is this Mary? She is familiar enough to the early disciples or the gospel writer that they can refer to “the village of Mary,” not the village of Lazarus, but of Mary. It has long been speculated that this Mary is Mary Magdalene; in John 12 a woman named Mary anoints the feet of Jesus with rich perfume and dries his feet with her hair. We have long assumed that Mary was Mary Magdalene. Well, could very well be, and the one woman in John 11 & 12, the sister of Lazarus, indeed could be Mary Magdalene. Why was her identity altered by introducing “her sister Martha” into the narrative, obscuring the passage with an allusion to Luke 10?
The answer is suggested by the final verse of the portion of the gospel passage we heard this morning, verse 27: “Yes, Lord,” she replied, “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.” Our English versions say that Martha said this; the original Greek text says it was Mary. Why is that change important? First, it is the only Christological confession in the gospel of John, a very significant assertion of Jesus as Messiah, as ‘Son of God.’ Secondly, who says something similar in the other gospels? Right! In all other three gospels, “Peter and Jesus have a conversation. And Jesus turns to Peter and says, “Who am I?” And Peter actually says, “You are the Messiah, the son of the living God.” And Jesus turns around and says to him words that are familiar to all of us, “You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church.” That’s St. Peter, first bishop of Rome, the first Pope, from whom we get St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome and the Roman Catholic Church. Pretty important guy! And in Roman Catholicism, only men can be Pope, or Bishops, or priests, because Jesus chose only male disciples. Or did he? In our version of John’s gospel the great confession is from the mouth of a minor character, Martha, about whom we hear nothing more. But she wasn’t there in the original John 11. Mary Magdalene was. Mary Magdalene, present at the crucifixion and burial of Jesus, the first witness to the empty tomb and the resurrection, the one who informed Peter and the others, “I have seen the Lord.”
Oh, you’re going to say, it’s not that Mary, she was from the town of Magdala, this Mary is from Bethany. Well, the Mary was from Bethany, because in Jesus’ time, there was no town called Magdala. In Hebrew, the word means ‘Tower.’ The term Magdalene is a title. Mary the Tower—the tower of strength, the tower of faith. Mary the Tower vs Peter the Rock. Rock, paper, scissors. Rock always wins. Or does it? Paper beats rock. This research of a piece of Papyrus leads to speculation about the power struggle happening in the early church and later, about the place of women in leadership roles. The Peter faction vs the Mary faction. Mary Magdalene was there at crucial moments of Jesus’ life and ministry. She was in the garden, at the cross, at the tomb. She’s called the Apostle to the Apostles. So, in whose interest is it that she be removed from John 11 with its powerful Christological confession and be replaced by a relative unknown woman named Martha? Mary was downgraded here. Why?
I leave you to speculate further, but I venture to share that if Mary the Tower had been acknowledged and celebrated equally as much as Peter the Rock, the institution of the church and its history would have been vastly different and our understanding of Christ’s message and ministry would be highly enriched by feminine wisdom and spirituality. Can you imagine? The mind boggles with possibilities. An all-male clergy? A patriarchal institution? Elaine Craig’s comment in the Globe Aug. 10 can easily be applied to the church: “We know that having women involved at the highest levels of organizations can help change leadership and result in better decision-making. Yet the [church’s] governance remains overwhelmingly male-dominated.” There were nearly 100 female bishops at Lambeth this year; twenty years ago there were less than 10. The times they are a changin’. There is much to contemplate, much to study further. We have not heard the last of this research and it will stimulate much discussion which I pray is respectful and fruitful. The Holy Spirit is let loose upon the world. Hear what her Spirit is saying to God’s people.
If, when you read the Gospel from Luke 6 you noticed that it was familiar but also a bit different than you remembered, you might have been thinking about the reading from Matthew 5. As we know the Gospels are written by different people, but some of the content has been taken from another. There are differences like I said, between Matthew and Luke’s version of these stories. So could they be two separate stories that Jesus told or are they the same story, with an emphasis on different parts in order to get the author’s message across?
The crisis with the homeless is not getting any better and with the future of higher interest rates, it could get worse. Many people look away or move to another side of the street when we see someone who is dirty or socially different. It is human to be afraid sometimes, but what we need to realize is that they are in need of help.
Both are the Beatitudes. According to Bible Study Tools, the words from Matthew, the Sermon on the Mount, outline Jesus’ idea of a fulfilled spiritual life in Christ, whereas the Beatitudes of the Sermon on the Plain (Luke’s passage) deal with how to respect economic and social differences. Another difference is the number of Beatitudes; 5 from Luke and 9 from Matthew.
Matthew’s sermon was focused on a Jewish group, outlining how to be obedient to God, whereas Luke’s version was for Gentiles who may not be used to the Jewish laws.
So, either way you look at them, Jesus was teaching the listeners in his time and us today, how to live a Godly life. Some of the stories in the Bible are not as easy to translate to our time here in our time, but this one is much easier.
Since the Sermon on the plain is dealing with how to respect economic and social differences, this reading once again, is directly related to my ministry with the less fortunate in the city of St. Catharines. Before taking on the ministry of working with the needy, I really never noticed how many topics from the Bible can relate to what I do. The first thing that I was reminded of, was how some of the clients of the breakfast program help each other out. I realize that there are some who are selling cigarettes and drugs to others, but I have also seen a true community of sharing and true caring for each other.
Occasionally, during Covid, when the numbers of people at the door looking for something to eat became higher, we would run out of something. Could be milk cartons, oatmeal or sandwiches. When I had to tell a person that we had run out, I would sometimes hear someone say, “you can have my milk”, or “I have enough so you can have my oatmeal”. Some of the people who offered part of their breakfast had just mentioned that they were hungry; that they had not eaten since the morning before.
A more recent incident happened a week or two ago. It was a cold morning and I was approached by a gentleman who was looking for a jacket, sweater or maybe a blanket. We don’t usually have those items, since we don’t really have the room for clothing and are trying to stick to what we do best and that is serving breakfast. We keep socks, hats and mitts but the bigger items we leave to other places. I did check in the closet to be sure nothing had been put in there that this man could have. There was nothing in there so I had to tell him no. A few minutes later I saw him speaking to a woman who was also getting herself some breakfast. I then saw her remove her vest that she was wearing, take off the warm, zip up the front sweatshirt, and hand this over to him. She then proceeded to put her vest back on and went to her table to eat. I know this woman and approached her to make sure she did not feel obligated to give him a piece of her clothing. She responded, “no, I was warm enough and have another sweatshirt at home and he needed it more than I did”
I must say that I was quite shocked to see this and hear her words. She has very little but yet still gave what she had away. I don’t know how many sweatshirts she has but I am pretty sure I have more in my closet. I am not sure that I would have done what she did, yet I have more. (I wasn’t wearing nor had with me any extra clothing, but I still question if I would have given him it). This woman knows what it is like to need something, whereas I have really not ‘needed’ anything in my life that I couldn’t go out and get.
The crisis with the homeless is not getting any better and with the future of higher interest rates, it could get worse. Many people look away or move to another side of the street when we see someone who is dirty or socially different. It is human to be afraid sometimes, but what we need to realize is that they are in need of help. We, at the Church of the Transfiguration do our part. I see people come in on Sunday morning with a box of cereal, a jar of peanut butter or jam, or cheese whiz. Quite often, by the end of service on some Sundays I need to make more than one trip to my car with what is in the baskets in the front entrance. One box or jar from a few people, becomes a trunk load that serves many.
We are the rich in the story from Luke. We have a lot to be thankful for. Do you respect the economic and social differences in this world?
What are you doing to live a ‘Jesus shaped life’?
O God,
the strength of those who humbly confess their sin
and place their hope in you,
save us from vain displays of righteousness,
and give us grace to keep faith
with the true humility of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Habakkuk 1:1-4; 2:1-4
Psalm 119:137-144
2 Thessalonians 1:1-4, 11-12
John 11: 1-7, 17-27
Luke was a physician, recruited by a local governor to ‘get the facts’ about Jesus’ life, teachings, and events. Learning about Jesus, with no hype, is helpful for everyone – then and now. But, these verses emphasize the difference Jesus makes for his followers.
Verses 20-26 lay out four timeless, life contrasts: poor/rich, hungry/full, weeping/laughing, rejected/accepted. Jesus’ message is: when we suffer from very real hurts, we may expect Jesus to be with us, caring for, leading and delivering us. These four contrasts, were common in Luke’s day, and still are, today. The point emphasizes what life is and can be, and the difference Jesus makes.
Part of Jesus’ love for us includes making us free to choose how we will live. This same love informs us of consequences. So, may we choose Jesus in all ways and in all things. Then, we will experience life as it can be – in joy and through sorrows.
Luke also records consequences for certain choices people make. If we do not do as Jesus teaches, there are woes. Rejecting Jesus separates us from God. Luke reminds us that Jesus is the source of life-as-it-can-be. Therefore, the choices we make will bring us blessings or woes.
Verses 26-31 continue Luke’s contrasts between what is good in life, and what hurts us. But, in these verses, he goes one step further. To be Jesus’ disciple (‘learner, follower’) means that we must follow the values and behaviours He expects of us. These include: loving our enemies who hate us; doing good to those who hate us; praying for those who abuse us; giving to everyone without restrictions (what we give and to whom).
Luke then summarizes Jesus’ point: Do unto others as we would want them to do for and to us. So what Luke says applies to everyone. We all have the ability to make life choices. Experiencing life as it can be with Jesus is grounded in what we choose and do. Rejecting Jesus and his values brings us woes and God’s disfavor.
Following Jesus does not mean that we will not suffer. For example, the loss of a loved one – especially a child – brings indescribable pain. Also, many of Jesus’ followers, then and now, suffer from poverty, hunger, wars, and natural calamities (flood, hurricane, drought etc). But, the difference between following Jesus, and choosing to go it alone, is the unlimited love, help and healing that only Jesus can and does give.
Yes, there are people, who go it alone and prosper. But, Jesus warns them and us. It’s only a matter of time before those who ‘have’ will soon ‘have not.’ There are consequences for our life choices.
Part of Jesus’ love for us includes making us free to choose how we will live. This same love informs us of consequences. So, may we choose Jesus in all ways and in all things. Then, we will experience life as it can be – in joy and through sorrows.
David Browning