Easter Homily 2011
Jesus Lives!
That is the Good News we proclaim on Easter Day. We continue to experience our Risen Lord to this day, in a way not confined to flesh and blood, time and space.
It may have been two thousand years since that dawn on the first day of the week when Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to see the tomb where Jesus was laid.
But the theme of Easter—that Jesus lives and will be with his followers for all time—remains the same.
The Resurrection, an event of great power and mystery, is one which leaves us grasping for words to express its life-changing force.
Easter completes the story of Jesus in one way. It moves us from death to Resurrection and new life. It also moves us from Crucifixion, a humiliating death, to vindication, God’s victory over the forces of evil and darkness.
Easter speaks of God’s unending love for the world, despite our human failings in all ages. God is with us in Jesus, his son.
The followers of Jesus huddled away in the upper room, afraid of discovery by the Jewish and Roman authorities after Jesus died on the cross. The Gospel accounts don’t reflect well on his disciples. Despite what Jesus taught them, melt away the the going gets tough and Jesus goes on trial, and is condemned to death.
Indeed in Matthew’s Gospel it is reported, as in other Gospel’s that the women who followed Jesus, not the eleven, are the ones who came first to the tomb.
Matthew’s brief account of that first Easter morning underlines the cosmic significance of the events of that day.
There was an earthquake. And an angel of the Lord rolls away the stone.
The supernatural appearance of the angel---similar to the transfigured Jesus on the mountain which his disciples have witnessed---tells the women not to be afraid. Jesus is not here. He has been raised from the dead.
The angel tells them they must go tell the other disciples what they have seen, and that they too will see him.
Then they meet Jesus, and he repeats the command, after they worship him.
This is a fascinating and tantalizingly brief description. It leaves us wanting more.
The scientific revolution which has characterized the last three hundred years, and particularly the last hundred years, has caused some people to doubt the truth of the Resurrection, as well as other miracles, healings and supernatural events described in the Gospels.
But while we can’t explain this event scientifically, we believe as Christians that God, the creator of the universe, is surely capable of doing what the Gospels testify to.
There are many events in history we can’t explain or prove through scientific evidence. And many scientists are Christians. Some are ordained clergy.
What remains for us is the fundamental truth of Easter: that a dispirited band of the followers of Jesus, who could have fled the scene and gone back to fishing, tax collecting and other pursuits, became transformed into evangelists. They took on the task of the great commission, to spread the Good news to others—the news of Jesus the son of God, crucified and risen again---and the message of salvation he taught.
The post-Resurrection appearances of Jesus, which begin with this text, play an important role in enabling the disciples and other followers of Jesus to testify to the Resurrection.
Jesus is no longer a martyr, unjustly executed. He lives in a transformed body, at least temporarily, so that his followers might know that He has conquered death.
This is no ghost, because he eats and drinks with his friends. But on the other hand it is not a resuscitated body—as with Lazarus, because there is no suggestion in any text that his ministry continues—only that he appears to many, then ascends---leaving the Holy Spirit with his followers to guide them and comfort them.
The Resurrection should not be taken as a signal that we as followers of Jesus, can sit back and bask in the glow of the certainty that through Jesus we have found the key to eternal life.
That leads to an innocuous Jesus, cheap grace, and inaction. Instead our New Testament, our new covenant with God, calls us to action.
We are not only to preach the Good News, we are to put the good news in action by working for a better world, a world of life, love and hope, not despair, hatred and death.
Our world is full of despair. The Easter message of the Gospel can bring hope—not just an individual basis but for communities, and nations.
Author Nancy Sehested writes:
“Resurrection happened not with trumpet sounds, and Easter lilies and budding trees and a great burst of sunlight, but in the early morning mist, while it was too dark to see clearly. It came through weeping and weariness, through fear and confusion, through the disorientation of grief, through arms reaching out to feel the way in the darkness. . . It came because God is a God who breathes life into dead bones.”
Easter is a new beginning. Nothing has changed, and yet everything has changed, now that Jesus has risen. With the new energy they have found the disciples begin the long and risky task of proclaiming the Gospel.
The Jewish authorities and the Roman authorities are still there. But they are soon to learn that by crucifying Jesus, they didn’t erase his memory, his ministry, his followers, or his power.
The same Peter who denied Jesus three times would become one of the early leaders on “The Way,” the name for the followers of Jesus—still a Jewish Christian sect at that time.
Peter, like many of the other disciples would meet his death at the hands of the Romans. . .but not before doing the groundwork for the building of the early Christian church.
Easter is something we still wonder at, as we mark this great festival each year. It is almost too much to comprehend.
Theologian Walter Bruggemann writes:
“Easter is not for arguing or explaining or disputing in order to domesticate it to our categories of reasonableness. It is for storytelling that leaves us in awe, and for preaching that asserts what the church knows deeply and trusts completely.”
Sunday 24 April 2011
Friday 22 April 2011
Taking Up Our Cross
Good Friday Homily 2011
Today we are called as Christians to stand at the foot of the cross.
In a world where success is the measure and justification of all things, the figure of him who was sentenced and crucified remains a stranger.
That reflection by Deitrich Bonheoffer, the German theologian executed by the Nazis encapsulates why the message of Good Friday is lost in our secular culture of materialism and the pursuit of progress.
Even among Christians there is too often a movement from celebrating the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem on that first Holy Week to rejoicing over our Risen Lord on Easter, and proclaiming the empty tomb as the sign of victory over death.
But we are here this morning to stand at the foot of the cross, and reflect on Jesus, the suffering servant. Jesus the man who suffered a humiliating, painful and ignominious death—usually reserved for slaves, rebels and common criminals.
The historian Josephus writes of mass Crucifixions in Palestine under Roman rule, as the Romans sought to crush resistance to their rule.
So when the early followers of the way chose to use the cross as the symbol of their faith in Jesus they were using a symbol of a form of death most people living then would regard as one of degradation, humiliation and horror.
It is as if we used an electric chair, or a gallows as a symbol in recent western society.
The Cross is a reminder of the radical call Jesus makes when he teaches that to follow him, we need to deny ourselves, to take up the cross.
He teaches that if we want to save our lives we will lose them. But if we are prepared to lose our lives for his sake and the sake of the Gospel, our lives will be saved.
It’s hard to wrap our heads around that. The disciples of Jesus certainly have difficulty.
Take Peter. When Jesus asks who do you say that I am, he answers with a clear and certain—“You are the Messiah.” Yet Peter is the one who ends up paralyzed with fear after Jesus is taken prisoner, and denies him three times.
The Messiah as suffering servant is something Jews have always struggled with. The Jewish author and historian Philo wrote that the Messiah would “take the field and make war and destroy the great and populous nations.”
That warrior Messiah hope isn’t hard to understand, the Jewish people having been enslaved by Babylonians, Greeks and Romans. They yearned for deliverance just as their ancestors had under the yoke of the rule of Pharaoh in Egypt.
Jesus brought a different idea of what a Messiah would be---one who would sacrifice his life, and rise again so that all who follow him might find salvation and eternal life.
But the discipleship Jesus wants is a costly discipleship—taking up our own cross, denying ourselves, being prepared to care for others above ourselves.
So being a follower of Christ means suffering and sacrifice. We have to preach the Good news of the gospel.
During this season of Lent as we prepared for Easter, it was a time of reflection, not just to wallow in thoughts of sin, and gloom, but to examine ourselves, to seek to grow in faith and love.
Self-denial is not something which is embraced by our dominant culture.
Neither is forgiveness.
But Christ died for us. And as Bonhoeffer writes, if we follow Jesus it makes a fundamental difference on how we live:
I can no longer condemn or hate a brother [or sister] for whom I pray, no matter how much trouble he causes me. His face that hitherto may have been strange and intolerable to me is transformed through intercession into the countenance of a brother for whom Christ died.
So we need to take seriously the call to take up our cross to serve Christ—to see Christ in those in need of comfort, of food, of any kind of help. Let us pray this Good Friday that we might better discern how to follow Jesus, our risen Lord, our suffering servant.
Today we are called as Christians to stand at the foot of the cross.
In a world where success is the measure and justification of all things, the figure of him who was sentenced and crucified remains a stranger.
That reflection by Deitrich Bonheoffer, the German theologian executed by the Nazis encapsulates why the message of Good Friday is lost in our secular culture of materialism and the pursuit of progress.
Even among Christians there is too often a movement from celebrating the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem on that first Holy Week to rejoicing over our Risen Lord on Easter, and proclaiming the empty tomb as the sign of victory over death.
But we are here this morning to stand at the foot of the cross, and reflect on Jesus, the suffering servant. Jesus the man who suffered a humiliating, painful and ignominious death—usually reserved for slaves, rebels and common criminals.
The historian Josephus writes of mass Crucifixions in Palestine under Roman rule, as the Romans sought to crush resistance to their rule.
So when the early followers of the way chose to use the cross as the symbol of their faith in Jesus they were using a symbol of a form of death most people living then would regard as one of degradation, humiliation and horror.
It is as if we used an electric chair, or a gallows as a symbol in recent western society.
The Cross is a reminder of the radical call Jesus makes when he teaches that to follow him, we need to deny ourselves, to take up the cross.
He teaches that if we want to save our lives we will lose them. But if we are prepared to lose our lives for his sake and the sake of the Gospel, our lives will be saved.
It’s hard to wrap our heads around that. The disciples of Jesus certainly have difficulty.
Take Peter. When Jesus asks who do you say that I am, he answers with a clear and certain—“You are the Messiah.” Yet Peter is the one who ends up paralyzed with fear after Jesus is taken prisoner, and denies him three times.
The Messiah as suffering servant is something Jews have always struggled with. The Jewish author and historian Philo wrote that the Messiah would “take the field and make war and destroy the great and populous nations.”
That warrior Messiah hope isn’t hard to understand, the Jewish people having been enslaved by Babylonians, Greeks and Romans. They yearned for deliverance just as their ancestors had under the yoke of the rule of Pharaoh in Egypt.
Jesus brought a different idea of what a Messiah would be---one who would sacrifice his life, and rise again so that all who follow him might find salvation and eternal life.
But the discipleship Jesus wants is a costly discipleship—taking up our own cross, denying ourselves, being prepared to care for others above ourselves.
So being a follower of Christ means suffering and sacrifice. We have to preach the Good news of the gospel.
During this season of Lent as we prepared for Easter, it was a time of reflection, not just to wallow in thoughts of sin, and gloom, but to examine ourselves, to seek to grow in faith and love.
Self-denial is not something which is embraced by our dominant culture.
Neither is forgiveness.
But Christ died for us. And as Bonhoeffer writes, if we follow Jesus it makes a fundamental difference on how we live:
I can no longer condemn or hate a brother [or sister] for whom I pray, no matter how much trouble he causes me. His face that hitherto may have been strange and intolerable to me is transformed through intercession into the countenance of a brother for whom Christ died.
So we need to take seriously the call to take up our cross to serve Christ—to see Christ in those in need of comfort, of food, of any kind of help. Let us pray this Good Friday that we might better discern how to follow Jesus, our risen Lord, our suffering servant.
Monday 18 April 2011
From the Triumphal Entry to Calvary
Introduction to the Dramatic Reading of the Passion for Palm Sunday, according to Matthew
You may ask why we read an account of that first Holy Week, from the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem to when Jesus is laid in the tomb on Good Friday.
Why not linger on Palm Sunday, the joyous celebration of a humble King, who rides into the Holy City on a donkey?
We can celebrate that triumphant day, remembering it with palm branches and palm crosses, but we must also prepare ourselves for the more painful remembrance of how Jesus was betrayed, put on trial, and put to death as even his most loyal followers deserted him.
There are four tellings of this story in the Bible. And if you read the passion accounts of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John you will find many differences.
For me that adds power and truth to the story. If all accounts were identical there would always be lingering doubts if the writers had combined to agree on what story to tell.
Instead we have different oral traditions passed down and written down for different audiences from 30 to 50 years after the events described.
These are not histories. They are the Good News, a statement of faith.
While there are differences, there are also common elements.
The best way to think of it is scenes in a movie. First, there is the triumphal procession. Then later in the week in the upper room Jesus gathers his small community of disciples to share a last meal together.
Jesus institutes the Lord’s Supper, which we call the Eucharist or the Holy Communion, using the bread and wine as his body and blood. “Do this in remembrance of me,” he tells his friends.
Then in Garden of Gethsemane as Jesus goes to pray, we see his vulnerability as he awaits his betrayal.
In the Judgment Hall of Pilate, Jesus is brought before the power of Rome. But he says little in his defense.
When he faces the Jewish religious leaders, the chief Priest and the elders, there is another confrontation, but Jesus doesn’t blink.
Then there is the mocking, scourging and beating at the hands of the Roman soldiers before the harrowing trip through narrow city streets carrying the cross to Calvary.
On that hill Jesus faces the almost unimaginable pain and suffering of a slow death on the cross.
This is a familiar story. But it bears repeating. It is our story as Christians. It touches us deeply.
I pray that as you listen, you will let the power of the story both inspire and move you, as we continue on our journey as followers on the risen Christ.
You may ask why we read an account of that first Holy Week, from the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem to when Jesus is laid in the tomb on Good Friday.
Why not linger on Palm Sunday, the joyous celebration of a humble King, who rides into the Holy City on a donkey?
We can celebrate that triumphant day, remembering it with palm branches and palm crosses, but we must also prepare ourselves for the more painful remembrance of how Jesus was betrayed, put on trial, and put to death as even his most loyal followers deserted him.
There are four tellings of this story in the Bible. And if you read the passion accounts of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John you will find many differences.
For me that adds power and truth to the story. If all accounts were identical there would always be lingering doubts if the writers had combined to agree on what story to tell.
Instead we have different oral traditions passed down and written down for different audiences from 30 to 50 years after the events described.
These are not histories. They are the Good News, a statement of faith.
While there are differences, there are also common elements.
The best way to think of it is scenes in a movie. First, there is the triumphal procession. Then later in the week in the upper room Jesus gathers his small community of disciples to share a last meal together.
Jesus institutes the Lord’s Supper, which we call the Eucharist or the Holy Communion, using the bread and wine as his body and blood. “Do this in remembrance of me,” he tells his friends.
Then in Garden of Gethsemane as Jesus goes to pray, we see his vulnerability as he awaits his betrayal.
In the Judgment Hall of Pilate, Jesus is brought before the power of Rome. But he says little in his defense.
When he faces the Jewish religious leaders, the chief Priest and the elders, there is another confrontation, but Jesus doesn’t blink.
Then there is the mocking, scourging and beating at the hands of the Roman soldiers before the harrowing trip through narrow city streets carrying the cross to Calvary.
On that hill Jesus faces the almost unimaginable pain and suffering of a slow death on the cross.
This is a familiar story. But it bears repeating. It is our story as Christians. It touches us deeply.
I pray that as you listen, you will let the power of the story both inspire and move you, as we continue on our journey as followers on the risen Christ.
Wednesday 13 April 2011
Raising Lazarus, and what it means for us
Homily Lent 5, Yr. A 2011
This is one of the most dramatic moments in John’s gospel. Jesus goes into the tomb of his friend Lazarus. He shouts in a loud voice, Lazarus come out. Then Lazarus. Who had died four days ago and was wrapped in burial cloths in the tomb, comes out.
What a scene that must have been in the small village of Bethany, just outside Jerusalem.
Jesus had already turned water into wine, fed thousands with a few loaves and fishes, healed the sick, as well as teaching and preaching. Now he raised a dead man to life.
In the gospel of John, which is the only gospel to mention the rasing of Lazraus from the dead, this is the turning point in Christ’s ministry. It is the seventh and greatest sign in John’s Gospel.
From now on Jesus faces persecution, betrayal and death at the hands of the Jewish religious authorities and their Roman masters.
In raising Lazarus from the dead Jesus demonstrates, he has the power over life and death, a powerful message which ultimately leads to his own death and resurrection.
As this story begins Lazarus is ill. He’s the brother of Mary and Martha and they are among the followers of Jesus. So the two sisters send a message to Jesus to let him know their brother is ill and needs him.
But Jesus doesn’t drop what his is doing to come running. He lets nature run its course. And then he uses the death of Lazarus as an opportunity. “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.”
That seems perplexing. Or it certainly did to Mary and Martha. They were aware he had healed others. They had expected him to come heal their brother.
Now we should remember here this story is only in the Gospel of John. The author uses the raising of Lazarus as both a sign that Jesus is the Son of God, and the final provocation of the religious authorities which would lead Jesus to the cross.
On the cross Jesus would be glorified, using John’s language.
After the healing, the disciples urge Jesus not to return to Judea…to go back to Palestine where he would be safer. They say his opponents are just looking for an excuse to stone him to death.
Jesus responds to the with one of his more cryptic sayings: Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Those who walk during the day do not stumble because they see the light of the world. But those who walk at night stumble because the light is not in them.”
The only way to understand this is to look at the whole story in John’s Gospel. Throughout the narrative Jesus is referred to, and refers to himself as the “light of the world.” Those who don’t believe in him are in darkness. This contrast between darkness and light is everywhere in John.
Before they leave to go to Lazarus, Jesus tells his disciples “he has fallen asleep. But I am going there to waken him. They can’t understand what he means when he says, “if he has fallen asleep he will be alright."
Then finally Jesus says “Lazarus is dead. For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.”
So the raising of Lazarus is a way to help them understand not only who Jesus is, but what power he has.
Martha comes out to meet Jesus when he finally arrives. In tears and distraught, she laments his absence. “Lord if you had been here my brother would not have died.”
Jesus responds with reassurance. “Your brother will rise again.|”
Martha doesn’t quite understands so she responds: “I know he will rise on the last day.”
At that time many Jews agreed with the teaching of the Pharisees which foresaw a resurrection on the last day.
But Jesus wasn’t talking about the end times. He was talking about the here and now.
And to spell it out we have one of those powerful “I am” statements which characterize John’s Gospel.
“I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, though they die, will live. And everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”
Martha replies: “Yes Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”
This encounter with Mary is not only an opportunity for Jesus to proclaim who he is, it is a chance to display his more human side, his compassion, his emotion. Mary and all her friends are weeping for their dead brother—four days in the tomb. Jesus shares their pain. The text says Jesus too began to weep.
We can surmise that Jesus was not only weeping for the loss of Lazarus, who he would raise from the dead, but for his followers, his countrymen who would abandon him as he went to Calvary.
It is one of the few times in John’s gospel Jesus shows such emotion. And the author also reports he was “greatly disturbed” as he left for the tomb.
What should we make of this remarkable story? We must remember it is not the same as the resurrection of Jesus. Lazarus is resuscitated after death. He goes on to avoid the Jewish authorities who want to kill him too.
When Christ rose from the dead, we believe it was not just a resuscitation, but Jesus in a new transformed body. He appeared and disappeared, and came through walls. Thomas was able to touch him. Yet he was not a ghost.
So the story of Lazarus is a key moment on the way to Calvary, but not a foretaste of Jesus rising from the dead.
Before Lazarus, Jesus could have been dismissed by the Jewish religious authorities as another healer, prophet and itinerant preacher who had a significant following.
After Lazarus he was a dangerous threat—a rival for religious leadership. Caiaphas, the chief priest, said on hearing of the miracle---“it is better to have one man die for the people rather than have the whole nation destroyed.”
Caiaphas and his fellow Jewish religious authorities felt threatened by Jesus. They misunderstood and feared him.
The story of the raising of Lazarus shows not only the Glory of God, but God’s love for and compassion for us. Jesus weeps for Lazarus.
And Jesus weeps for us as we struggle with the difficult things life sometimes brings us. But Jesus also rejoices with us as we find faith and joy in Him and in our neighbours who he has asked us to love and serve, as we would like to be loved and served.
About 1700 years ago, Gregory of Nansianzus, one of the fathers of the early church wrote this of Jesus in this story:
"He prays, but He hears prayer. He weeps, but He causes tears to cease. He asks where Lazarus was laid, for He was Man; but He raises Lazarus, for He was God."
Let us give thanks for the proclamation of the good news of the Gospel, and seek new life and renewal in our own lives through Jesus, our Saviour.
This is one of the most dramatic moments in John’s gospel. Jesus goes into the tomb of his friend Lazarus. He shouts in a loud voice, Lazarus come out. Then Lazarus. Who had died four days ago and was wrapped in burial cloths in the tomb, comes out.
What a scene that must have been in the small village of Bethany, just outside Jerusalem.
Jesus had already turned water into wine, fed thousands with a few loaves and fishes, healed the sick, as well as teaching and preaching. Now he raised a dead man to life.
In the gospel of John, which is the only gospel to mention the rasing of Lazraus from the dead, this is the turning point in Christ’s ministry. It is the seventh and greatest sign in John’s Gospel.
From now on Jesus faces persecution, betrayal and death at the hands of the Jewish religious authorities and their Roman masters.
In raising Lazarus from the dead Jesus demonstrates, he has the power over life and death, a powerful message which ultimately leads to his own death and resurrection.
As this story begins Lazarus is ill. He’s the brother of Mary and Martha and they are among the followers of Jesus. So the two sisters send a message to Jesus to let him know their brother is ill and needs him.
But Jesus doesn’t drop what his is doing to come running. He lets nature run its course. And then he uses the death of Lazarus as an opportunity. “This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.”
That seems perplexing. Or it certainly did to Mary and Martha. They were aware he had healed others. They had expected him to come heal their brother.
Now we should remember here this story is only in the Gospel of John. The author uses the raising of Lazarus as both a sign that Jesus is the Son of God, and the final provocation of the religious authorities which would lead Jesus to the cross.
On the cross Jesus would be glorified, using John’s language.
After the healing, the disciples urge Jesus not to return to Judea…to go back to Palestine where he would be safer. They say his opponents are just looking for an excuse to stone him to death.
Jesus responds to the with one of his more cryptic sayings: Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Those who walk during the day do not stumble because they see the light of the world. But those who walk at night stumble because the light is not in them.”
The only way to understand this is to look at the whole story in John’s Gospel. Throughout the narrative Jesus is referred to, and refers to himself as the “light of the world.” Those who don’t believe in him are in darkness. This contrast between darkness and light is everywhere in John.
Before they leave to go to Lazarus, Jesus tells his disciples “he has fallen asleep. But I am going there to waken him. They can’t understand what he means when he says, “if he has fallen asleep he will be alright."
Then finally Jesus says “Lazarus is dead. For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.”
So the raising of Lazarus is a way to help them understand not only who Jesus is, but what power he has.
Martha comes out to meet Jesus when he finally arrives. In tears and distraught, she laments his absence. “Lord if you had been here my brother would not have died.”
Jesus responds with reassurance. “Your brother will rise again.|”
Martha doesn’t quite understands so she responds: “I know he will rise on the last day.”
At that time many Jews agreed with the teaching of the Pharisees which foresaw a resurrection on the last day.
But Jesus wasn’t talking about the end times. He was talking about the here and now.
And to spell it out we have one of those powerful “I am” statements which characterize John’s Gospel.
“I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, though they die, will live. And everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”
Martha replies: “Yes Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”
This encounter with Mary is not only an opportunity for Jesus to proclaim who he is, it is a chance to display his more human side, his compassion, his emotion. Mary and all her friends are weeping for their dead brother—four days in the tomb. Jesus shares their pain. The text says Jesus too began to weep.
We can surmise that Jesus was not only weeping for the loss of Lazarus, who he would raise from the dead, but for his followers, his countrymen who would abandon him as he went to Calvary.
It is one of the few times in John’s gospel Jesus shows such emotion. And the author also reports he was “greatly disturbed” as he left for the tomb.
What should we make of this remarkable story? We must remember it is not the same as the resurrection of Jesus. Lazarus is resuscitated after death. He goes on to avoid the Jewish authorities who want to kill him too.
When Christ rose from the dead, we believe it was not just a resuscitation, but Jesus in a new transformed body. He appeared and disappeared, and came through walls. Thomas was able to touch him. Yet he was not a ghost.
So the story of Lazarus is a key moment on the way to Calvary, but not a foretaste of Jesus rising from the dead.
Before Lazarus, Jesus could have been dismissed by the Jewish religious authorities as another healer, prophet and itinerant preacher who had a significant following.
After Lazarus he was a dangerous threat—a rival for religious leadership. Caiaphas, the chief priest, said on hearing of the miracle---“it is better to have one man die for the people rather than have the whole nation destroyed.”
Caiaphas and his fellow Jewish religious authorities felt threatened by Jesus. They misunderstood and feared him.
The story of the raising of Lazarus shows not only the Glory of God, but God’s love for and compassion for us. Jesus weeps for Lazarus.
And Jesus weeps for us as we struggle with the difficult things life sometimes brings us. But Jesus also rejoices with us as we find faith and joy in Him and in our neighbours who he has asked us to love and serve, as we would like to be loved and served.
About 1700 years ago, Gregory of Nansianzus, one of the fathers of the early church wrote this of Jesus in this story:
"He prays, but He hears prayer. He weeps, but He causes tears to cease. He asks where Lazarus was laid, for He was Man; but He raises Lazarus, for He was God."
Let us give thanks for the proclamation of the good news of the Gospel, and seek new life and renewal in our own lives through Jesus, our Saviour.
Tuesday 5 April 2011
Who is blind anyway?
Homily- Lent 4 Yr. A- Mothering Sunday 2011
The story of the healing of the man born blind from John’s gospel is not only one of the most lengthy accounts of healing in all four gospels---it deals in great detail with what happens after the healing.
It seems that even when something as wonderful as the healing of a lifelong disability happens, it is hard for everyone involved to let go of what they are used to.
Change is difficult. We can’t get around that.
For the man who was born blind, the encounter with Jesus plunged him into a new life. And it wasn’t easy. He immediately had to face the fury of the Jewish religious authorities, who challenged him, and his healing story, and sought to discredit him, and his parents.
The Pharisees were furious Jesus had again healed on the Sabbath. Even the act of leaning over to pick up the dirt to mix with spittle to rub on the man’s eyes was illegal under strict Jewish Sabbath law.
The religious authorities were frightened by change, and the threat they perceived from Jesus, who was defying them at every turn.
One of the most audacious statements from the narrative is the formerly blind man’s answer to questioning from the authorities. He wonders if they too want to follow Jesus. We can picture them exploding with anger at the boldness of this uneducated man.
We learn from this story of the man born blind that in the encounter with Jesus, everything can change.
The man didn’t know Jesus. Then Jesus healed him. At that point the man understands Jesus is a prophet and a healer.
But when he encounters Jesus again, he learns from Jesus that the man who healed him is the Son of Man, the Messiah, the Saviour long foretold.
So the man not only gains his sight, he gains his spiritual sight.
This is contrasted to the Pharisees who can see with their eyes, but are spiritually blind to Jesus and his teaching.
The Pharisees doubt the truth of the healing. They challenge the man and try to involve his parents.
Finally they end up challenging Jesus for healing on the Sabbath.
By the Pharisees own admission they don’t understand Jesus: “We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.”
Then the Pharisees order the former blind man out of their sight because he has seen more clearly than they—the learned religious authorities-- have.
To appreciate how remarkable this scene is—- how would we react to being called in front of three Judges and asked to explain an event when they clearly didn’t believe our account?
The former blind, who has lived his life as a beggar, displays great insight in his testimony, reported by John:
“Here is the astonishing thing. You do not know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to he who worships him and obeys his will. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not of God, he could do nothing.”
The man who has been blind all his life sees better than the learned religious leaders. Jesus says: now that you (the Pharisees say “we see” your guilt remains.”
The Pharisees are certainly not alone in their spiritual blindness. The disciples ask Jesus when the see the man born blind—“Rabbis, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind.”
We have to understand that the Jewish tradition taught that the sins of the parents could be visited upon their children.
Jesus is challenging the traditional teaching. He tells the disciples neither the man, nor his parents sinned, but that the man was born blind so that God’s works could be revealed in him.
Now some people would interpret that to mean God means some people to be born with disabilities, so that God’s power can be shown.
This interpretation doesn’t accord with our belief in a merciful and caring God.
The presence of disabilities, such as blindness, is one of the mysteries of creation.
What Jesus means is that a disability such as blindness can be an opportunity to reveal God’s works, either in healing, or in caring.
What is more important than physical blindness is spiritual blindness.
Do we, like the Pharisees, let our pride get in the way of new spiritual insight?. Do we fall back on that excuse: we’ve always done it this way, or thought about it this way?
The former blind man—testifying to the healing power of Jesus—gets nothing but hostility—from his family, his friends, and the religious authorities.
They don’t know what to make of his healing and conversion.
In the same way we have to consider how we accept change and new insights in our faith communities. We,like the Pharisees, can be too caught up in seeing ourselves as the guardians of the truth, rather that opening ourselves up to the work of the Holy Spirit.
But, like the former blind man, we can also be open to spiritual growth and insight. We can display courage, as he did. And we can rejoice in our encounter with Jesus, who is with us always.
The story of the healing of the man born blind from John’s gospel is not only one of the most lengthy accounts of healing in all four gospels---it deals in great detail with what happens after the healing.
It seems that even when something as wonderful as the healing of a lifelong disability happens, it is hard for everyone involved to let go of what they are used to.
Change is difficult. We can’t get around that.
For the man who was born blind, the encounter with Jesus plunged him into a new life. And it wasn’t easy. He immediately had to face the fury of the Jewish religious authorities, who challenged him, and his healing story, and sought to discredit him, and his parents.
The Pharisees were furious Jesus had again healed on the Sabbath. Even the act of leaning over to pick up the dirt to mix with spittle to rub on the man’s eyes was illegal under strict Jewish Sabbath law.
The religious authorities were frightened by change, and the threat they perceived from Jesus, who was defying them at every turn.
One of the most audacious statements from the narrative is the formerly blind man’s answer to questioning from the authorities. He wonders if they too want to follow Jesus. We can picture them exploding with anger at the boldness of this uneducated man.
We learn from this story of the man born blind that in the encounter with Jesus, everything can change.
The man didn’t know Jesus. Then Jesus healed him. At that point the man understands Jesus is a prophet and a healer.
But when he encounters Jesus again, he learns from Jesus that the man who healed him is the Son of Man, the Messiah, the Saviour long foretold.
So the man not only gains his sight, he gains his spiritual sight.
This is contrasted to the Pharisees who can see with their eyes, but are spiritually blind to Jesus and his teaching.
The Pharisees doubt the truth of the healing. They challenge the man and try to involve his parents.
Finally they end up challenging Jesus for healing on the Sabbath.
By the Pharisees own admission they don’t understand Jesus: “We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.”
Then the Pharisees order the former blind man out of their sight because he has seen more clearly than they—the learned religious authorities-- have.
To appreciate how remarkable this scene is—- how would we react to being called in front of three Judges and asked to explain an event when they clearly didn’t believe our account?
The former blind, who has lived his life as a beggar, displays great insight in his testimony, reported by John:
“Here is the astonishing thing. You do not know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners, but he does listen to he who worships him and obeys his will. Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not of God, he could do nothing.”
The man who has been blind all his life sees better than the learned religious leaders. Jesus says: now that you (the Pharisees say “we see” your guilt remains.”
The Pharisees are certainly not alone in their spiritual blindness. The disciples ask Jesus when the see the man born blind—“Rabbis, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind.”
We have to understand that the Jewish tradition taught that the sins of the parents could be visited upon their children.
Jesus is challenging the traditional teaching. He tells the disciples neither the man, nor his parents sinned, but that the man was born blind so that God’s works could be revealed in him.
Now some people would interpret that to mean God means some people to be born with disabilities, so that God’s power can be shown.
This interpretation doesn’t accord with our belief in a merciful and caring God.
The presence of disabilities, such as blindness, is one of the mysteries of creation.
What Jesus means is that a disability such as blindness can be an opportunity to reveal God’s works, either in healing, or in caring.
What is more important than physical blindness is spiritual blindness.
Do we, like the Pharisees, let our pride get in the way of new spiritual insight?. Do we fall back on that excuse: we’ve always done it this way, or thought about it this way?
The former blind man—testifying to the healing power of Jesus—gets nothing but hostility—from his family, his friends, and the religious authorities.
They don’t know what to make of his healing and conversion.
In the same way we have to consider how we accept change and new insights in our faith communities. We,like the Pharisees, can be too caught up in seeing ourselves as the guardians of the truth, rather that opening ourselves up to the work of the Holy Spirit.
But, like the former blind man, we can also be open to spiritual growth and insight. We can display courage, as he did. And we can rejoice in our encounter with Jesus, who is with us always.
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