5 Lent
John 12:1-8

Mary is the central character in this story. John tells us that Martha served at the meal (which is reminiscent of what we know of Martha from the account of her and Mary in Luke’s gospel). In the same sentence we are told that Lazarus was also at the table with Jesus. Next to Jesus, Lazarus was the second guest of honour that night. But other than to link this story to the account of the rising of Lazarus in the preceding chapter, there is no role for Martha and Lazarus in the story that follows. Their presence is noted, and then it is just Mary and Jesus.

And Mary does something unexpected. Something extraordinary. Seemingly, something very extravagant and wasteful. She pour out a jar of scented oil on Jesus’ feet that was worth about a year’s wages for the average labourer of the day.

So what in the world was she thinking.

The other gospels tell us that all the disciples objected. John focuses on Judas.

This perfume could have been sold the money given to support the poor, he said.

And to be honest, Judas’ argument would have won the day in just about any church AGM. It was a poor use of limited resources.

So just what was Mary thinking?

Some have argued that that was exactly the point. She wasn’t thinking at all. She was feeling. She acted on impulse and out of love. And there was probably an element of this to her action that day.

But I am not convinced that this is not something she did without thinking it through. We learn from Lukes Gospel that it was Mary who was more concerned to hear the teachings of Jesus that to worry about serving her guests. And this caused some friction with her sister, Martha.

Mary was a thinker. She wanted to hear what Jesus had to say, and the weigh it up.

I think rather than being a purely emotional response to what Jesus was saying, Mary is the one person who actually thought through and understood his words that day.

[story]

Mary was a friend of Jesus. She was one of his followers. And Jesus had been talking openly to his followers about his impending death.

But the disciples did not understand what he was saying.

Judas completely misunderstood Jesus and ended up betraying him.

Peter, misunderstanding the kind of kingdom Jesus is brining, would take up a sword to defend Jesus, then later deny he knew him.

The high priest announced Jesus will die for the people and approves him for death, but did not understand the role he himself is playing because he does not understand who Jesus is and what he is about to do.

Pilate, the Roman governor, is more open than the high priest to considering the claims of Jesus, but he too fails to comprehend just who Jesus is and what he is about to do, though Jesus tells him plainly.

In fact, in the last days that Jesus dwelt among us only one person really seems to understand who he is, and what he is about to do – and that is Mary of Bethany.

Mary is the friend who is there for Jesus in those dark few days leading to the cross to support him, and anoint him, for what is about to come. And so, before his triumphal entry, we have this intriguing and vital story about Mary and Jesus.

The context of the event is that after some days in a remote place, in order to avoid those who were plotting to kill him after the furor caused by the raising of Lazarus, Jesus shows up at Bethany, at the home of Lazarus, Mary and Martha. And we learn from the other gospels that it is also the home of Simon the former leper. Putting it all together, Simon is likely the uncle of these siblings, who live with him.

In any event, some days after Lazarus is raised from the dead, Jesus shows up at his home – a place to which he was no stranger, for this is where Jesus and his disciples appeared to regularly stay when visiting Jerusalem. And we are told that this took place six days before the Passover, which would have made it a Saturday night. This is the meal that came after the Sabbath had officially ended at sunset.

The response of Lazarus’ family to Jesus’ appearance again in Bethany is exactly what we would expect. They through a big party for Jesus, their friend and teacher, who just a few days earlier turned a tragic wake into the biggest miracle anyone had ever seen. So there is one very big party taking place, with guests likely squeezed into the inner courtyard of the house, and many others packed outside hoping to catch of glimpse of Jesus or Lazarus.

And that’s when it happened.

That’s when Mary, the one person present at the meal that night who truly understood what Jesus had been telling everyone is about to happen, does the unthinkable. She produces a large jar of expensive perfume, worth a year’s wages and likely kept as part of the family’s savings, or perhaps as a dowry for her or her sister Martha. Then she takes the perfume to Jesus and pours it on his feet. On the surface, this action would seem to be an imitation of a ceremony of washing the feet of a guest, usually done by a servant or one of the children. But her act also reminds us of the anointing of the body for burial, often done from head to foot. And kings sometimes had their feet anointed as a part of the coronation ceremony so they could go forth and conquer. So there is plenty of symbolism here.

So Mary washes Jesus’ feet. But she uses very expensive perfume, and not water. She is doing more than washing his feet. And I believe she knew exactly what she was doing. She had thought this through. She is not only preparing him for his death, but she is anointing him.

Then, just when the disciples and other guests thought here actions could not be more scandalous, Mary undoes her hair in public (something a respectable Jewish woman does not do) and uses her hair to wipe Jesus’ feet. It is an act of great and unexpected humility. One matched only by Jesus’ own act of washing the disciples’ feet a few days later.

What Mary does is an act motivated by love and devotion for Jesus. It is an act that is at the same time one of extraordinary extravagance and extraordinary humility.

First, consider the extravagance of Mary’s act.

In a few seconds’ time she used up a year’s worth of wages in highly prized, scented oil. And remember, Mary’s much loved brother Lazarus had only recently died and gone through his burial rites – and Mary did not bring out the scented oil for that occasion. That reminds us just how valuable this ointment was. Buying a bouquet of flowers for my wife for her birthday would be a modest symbol of my affection for her. Buying her the entire florist’s shop would be an extravagant and extraordinary display of love – and one that would probably get me in more trouble than simply buying a bouquet of flowers. Essentially, Mary buys Jesus the whole flower shop. She does not hold back in her display of love and devotion.

Now, let us consider the humility of Mary’s act.

If I were to offend my wife in some way – which over the course of 40 years of marriage may from time to time have happened (theoretically, of course), the expected thing for me to do would be to humble myself and say ‘sorry.’ An extreme act of humility on my part would be to sit outside our front door covered in ashes with a sign hanging over by head saying ‘I am sorry.’ Again, such action on my part would likely cause a good deal of embarrassment for my wife, who would more likely have preferred a simple apology. Well, Mary’s basically sits on her doorstep covered in ashes. She washes Jesus’ feet, which the host or hostess would not normally do themselves. She undoes her hair, which a grown Jewish woman never does in public without shaming herself. Then she uses her hair rather than a towel to rub the ointment into Jesus’ feet. It was an act of extreme humility.

As you can imagine, Mary’s actions stopped every conversation in the room. There would have been absolute shocked silence. Then Judas speaks up. The other gospels tell us that the disciples as a group complained about this, but John puts the focus on Judas. He says what everyone else is thinking. Mary had not only embarrassed herself, but has just wasted a great deal of money that could have been used to help the poor.

But here’s the thing. Jesus was neither concerned by the extravagance of Mary’s display of love, nor embarrassed by her public display of extreme humility.

Jesus puts Judas and all Mary’s other critics to silence with his words: ‘Leave her alone. She bought the perfume so that she could keep it for the day of my burial.’

Jesus confirms that Mary alone had been paying attention to what he was saying. Mary alone had thought about his words, and acted accordingly.

Jesus accepts Mary’s gift, and explains that she is preparing him for his day of burial.

Mary performed a two-fold service for Jesus that day. She is prepared him for his death and burial. And she anointed him to take up his kingdom. This becomes particularly significant in the order in which John places the anointing in Bethany and the triumphal entry. Matthew and Mark place the triumphal entry first. John puts the anointing in Bethany first. John’s point is clear. Jesus enters Jerusalem as the anointed king. And he goes to his death on the cross as the anointed king.

In the midst of his final week – filled with so much misunderstanding, betrayal, denial, abandonment, rejection and condemnation – one woman, Mary of Bethany, was paying attention to what Jesus was saying. One woman understood what was happening. And through an act of both extravagance and great humility, she anointted Jesus for what is to come as he sets out on his path to the cross.

Then it is Jesus’ turn to act on our behalf. For it is on the cross that Jesus shows us the greatest extravagance of love, and the greatest act of humility, that the world would ever see.

Amen.

The Text: Luke 15:20

He was still a long way from home when his father saw him; his heart was filled with pity, and he ran, threw his arms around his son, and kissed him.Shame is a painful feeling we have when our improper behaviour, incompetence, and bad judgement are brought out into the open. As we feel shame we feel guilt and disappointment in ourselves and the judgement of others as they wonder how we could have disgraced ourselves in such a way. Embarrassment, dishonour, disgrace, inadequacy and humiliation are associated with shame.

The origin of the word ‘shame’ is connected to an older word meaning to cover. We see this in the account of Adam and Eve when they realised that they had disobeyed God and heard him calling for them in the Garden of Eden. They felt shame for what they had done and so what did they do? They covered their nakedness and went undercover as they tried to hide from God. When we feel shame we want to hide from others, not make eye contact, and feel as if our faces are on fire as we blush.

Look into the history of our country you will find attitudes and events that are shameful. Every country has those times in their history that bring shame.

Shame and dishonour are very important concepts in the Middle East and one’s honour and that of the family are very valuable and to be protected at all costs. It was like that in Jesus’ time.

Remember the wedding at Cana when the wine ran out? That kind of thing brought shame upon the groom and his family and that stigma would stay with them for a long time.

You can imagine the shame Peter felt as he heard the rooster crow and realised that he had done exactly what he had so boldly stated he wouldn’t do – not once but three times he had denied that he ever knew Jesus. We are told he wept bitterly out of shame.

Today’s gospel reading from Luke gives us the story Jesus’ told about the father and his two sons and even though the word shame doesn’t appear in the text, there is still plenty of shame involved in this story. Let’s take a look at the instances of shame in this story. Part of understanding this parable is to view it from its Middle Eastern context.

Firstly, there is the shameful thing the youngest son does. He does something that is really low and unkind. He demands that his father immediately give him his share of the inheritance that would normally come his way when his father died. Making this kind of demand is like wishing his dad was dead so that he could get his hands on dad’s money. This is another way of saying to his father, “I no longer want to have anything to do with you. Give me what is mine so that I can cut loose from this family.”

Research has shown that this kind of demand is unheard of in Jewish culture and if the request was granted and a son was given a part of his inheritance that didn’t give the son the right to cash in his share. By selling his father’s property he would deprive his father of his own livelihood. Does the son care? No! His action in selling his share of the property only heaps more shame on himself. He is self-centred, ungrateful, and greedy and doesn’t care how much his family will suffer. He only cares about himself. In a Middle Eastern community that was very much family and community oriented, this kind of attitude is indeed shameful.

To treat his father and family like this not only brought shame on himself but also brought shame on his father. In fact, the whole of the community would feel the shame of the way this lad had treated his father and so the only way a father could restore dignity and pride again in the sight of his neighbours was to wash his hands of this shame by never speaking to his son again or even acknowledge that he ever existed. As far as the family was concerned that son was dead and there was no coming back again.

But the son’s shameful deeds don’t end there with his leaving father and brother to live off what they had left; he goes to a far off land indicating that he never intended to return and there he wastes his father’s hard-earned money with wild parties and spending as if there was a never ending supply of cash.

He ends up in a pig pen. Pigs were animals that Jews considered to be unclean and totally repulsive. Pigs were the garbage collectors of the time and were the way of getting rid of any household rubbish. What a pitiful and shameful picture this young man must have made as he sat amongst the filth of snorting, messy, sometimes dangerous pigs, especially if someone tried to muscle in on their food. He even tried begging from passers-by but no one cared. Maybe they had heard how he had treated his father and so believed he got what he deserved.

I think you get the picture and though his shame is so overwhelming his desperate situation calls for desperate measures. He is aware that he has cut himself off from his family and can never go back as a son, so he trudges toward home to ask for a job as a hired servant, and to live with the servants. As he takes the long journey back home, his heart is likely heavy with shame and guilt for what he has done and the broken relationship between him and his father.

We know what happens when his father sees him coming in the distance. He doesn’t walk or shuffle slowly but races down the road to meet him; throws his arms around him; there is no rebuke or accusations; only the joy of a loving father welcoming home a son whom he had considered dead. In the eyes of the people in his village, it was most undignified for a father to be seen running through the streets let alone running to greet and hugging this son who has acted so shamefully toward his father and his family. He is humiliating himself, likely demonstrating a spineless and weak character he is by treating his son in a way he doesn’t deserve and seemingly rewarding him with his love.

The father has become an embarrassment to the whole village because by accepting his son back he is also bringing shame on himself and he is doing this gladly. He is happy to take on his son’s shame because his son is back; this son that had once disowned his family is now back and can be restored to the family; this son who was once dead is now alive.

To our western way of thinking this is a feel good story – father and son are reconciled – but it’s not. This story is scandalous. To Jewish hearers, the behaviour of father and son is downright shameful. To Christian hearers this is an illustration of our relationship with God – we are the spiteful son and God is the loving Father who leaves his house and takes up this humiliating posture on the road. He has no shame and at a great personal cost greets, hugs and throws a feast for the one who had treated him so badly. The father takes on the shame of the son and becomes shameful in the eyes of the world as he restores the boy to his home and reconciliation between them occurs.

You can see why this reading has been included in the lead up to Good Friday because the father’s action is a symbol of what God has done and is doing for us through Christ. Like the son we have been oblivious to the pain that we have caused our heavenly Father. Just as the son wasn’t even aware that he had hurt his father, likewise we are too often quite indifferent to the way our speech and actions hurt our heavenly Father. But our Father in heaven was prepared to take on our shame and guilt, to embrace us, and welcome us back home. God takes our shame, our humiliation, guilt, and disgrace on himself and he is punished for us and as Isaiah tells us, is despised, struck, beaten for our sins. He is brought low and put to shame for us. He hung in shame from a cross – an innocent man treated as a criminal and mocked as a fraud all the while taking on our shame and reconciling us to our heavenly Father.

On the cross, Jesus is the greatest and most shameful of sinners – there he is made a liar and a thief and an adulterer and a murder, for you and me. Just as love was the driving force that led the father in Jesus’ story to be shamed in front of all his friends and neighbours so that he could welcome back his son, so Jesus’ love for us is the driving force that led him to be shamed and humiliated, nailed naked to a cross so he could welcome us back as his sons and daughters. This shame he gladly bears and makes it possible for those who were dead to now be alive; those who were lost to be found.

There are those who have used this parable to show that God is an old softy when it comes to sin and like a doting old father doesn’t take his children’s waywardness seriously. To our modern minds, this parable might be understood that way, but to look at it in its Middle Eastern context we can see that reconciliation is a painful thing. The father could have easily severed his relationship with his son and quite rightfully forgotten that he ever had a son. He and his family had been terribly shamed by his behaviour by Jewish standards. And so he could have quite rightly ignored the boy as he came up the road but instead he shamelessly raced to meet his son and, in spite of the stares of his neighbours, embraced and welcomed his son home.

As we move closer to Good Friday we become aware again just how much God has done for us and continues do for us especially when we come limping home and smelling as unclean as pigs in Jewish culture. Just as the father in Jesus’ parable wrapped his arms around his smelly, filthy, shameful child so also our heavenly Father wraps his arms around us when we are smelly and filthy and shameful because of our sin.

Our God loves us with a divine love. One who runs and leaps for joy when every sinner returns home. Amen.

3 Lent 2025

Isaiah 55:1-9 

The large cardboard sign propped up against the curb and written in bold, black texta said ‘FREE STUFF’. 

It was as apt description. Behind the sign was a pile of what could only be described as ‘stuff’. Someone had clearly had a long-overdue clean out of their garage. Or perhaps they were moving.

I cast an eye at the pile of ‘stuff’ as I drove past. It was the usual. There was a lounge chair without cushions, and three-legged coffee table, a couple of old car tyres, a couple of stacks of old 8-tracks, a rusted bicycle frame, a rolled up old carpet.

And what was that in the back? An old piano? No. I think it was a roll top desk. But then I was past.

Later that morning I thought about that pile of stuff. Was that a roll top desk? I had been looking for one of them for a while. They are not cheap, even second hand. And this one appeared to be about the right size. But who in their right mind would give away something like that. Surely there was something wrong with it. It was badly damaged or warped, poorly constructed, etc.

All day my mind went back to that roll top desk. I finally decided that afternoon to drive back past and have another look. Perhaps it really was a roll-top desk for free.

As I pulled up alongside the curb in front of the pile of free stuff, I could see clearly that it was indeed an old roll-top desk. And it was clearly in very good condition. I could see all this because it was being loaded into the back of a ute parked just in front of me!

I had waited and dithered too long, disbelieving that anything that good was actually being given away, or thinking surely there was something seriously wrong with it that I would notice as soon as I stopped to inspect it. Many other passersby had likely had the same thought.

It would have been a great desk. Just what I was looking for. But now it was gone. I had missed the opportunity.

In today’s Old Testament reading from the prophet Isaiah we have a similar situation. Isaiah is writing to a people in exile in Babylon. They are not accustomed to expecting much, and certainly nothing for free.

The prophet gets their attention in words that echoed the well-known calls of the spruikers in the market places of the ancient world selling food and fresh drinking water.

‘Ho! Everyone who thirsts come to the waters; and you that have no money; come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price!’

Many of you have travelled to places where this kind of selling still occurs. ‘You there, yes, you, Mam. You look like you could use a new hat. I have one just your colour that would match your outfit!’

Or, ‘You sir. You look like someone how could use a cool drink. I have fresh coconuts here. Just one dollar, and I will slice it open for you and include a straw. No extra charge!’

We tend to tune out these calls unless it is something we were looking for. But what if someone starts calling out, ‘You there! No money? No worries! I have food and drink for free. No gimmick. No charge.’

Well, that would get our attention. And that is the intention of the prophet in this passage. They now the familiar words of the spruikers. But who spruiks stuff for free?

We would likely be very skeptical of such an offer. It makes so sense. Surely there is a catch. Like most, we would likely walk on past, known free food and drink was too good to be true.

But that is exactly what God is doing. He is offering a people in captivity and exile grace. He is promising that they will return home. He reminds them of the great king David from their past. Those days will be restored. So come and drink and eat from the Lord’s table. By grace, he is providing this all for free.

The words of the prophet are a foretaste of the call God issues to us all in and through Christ. Come, eat and drink. Forgiveness and life everlasting are on offer – for free.

Well, as we know, free stuff, stuff that is not actually junk, just doesn’t make sense. Nor does it make sense that God would be giving away salvation for free. There must be a catch.

But the prophet knows that his readers are going to be asking these same questions. He reminds them (in verses 8 and 9) that God says ‘My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways, and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.’

Yes, free stuff – from God – doesn’t make sense. Not from a human perspective. But God reminds us that he is not us. God does’t think and act as we do. God acts on a whole new level. And in God’s world, and God’s reality, new life, forgiveness and salvation really are being given away.

But there is a proviso. We are warned that the offer is not unlimited. Now is the time to turn to God’s love, now is the time to choose to follow the path God has set before us. Now is the time to do those things we know God wants us to do. God calls us to choose him, to follow him. God calls us to his love. And he offers us life and life everlasting for free. But now is the time to respond to this unbelievable offer.

The prophet Isaiah writes these well-known words: ‘Seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake their way, and the unrighteous their thoughts; let that return to the Lord, and he will have mercy on them and will abundantly pardon.’ (verse 7).

It is a bit like me and the free roll-top desk. I spent so long convincing myself that there was not a catch, and that perhaps it was a perfectly good old roll-top desk behind that pile of stuff that by the time I finally decided to go back and check it out, the desk was taken. I had dithered too long.

When we know what God wants us to do, when we know that we need to change our lives or actions, when we know that we need to respond to the love that God shows to us in Jesus, there is no point putting it off, forever considering our options or trying to find the catch.

God is near to us now, he is able to be found now.

We do not know what the future might bring. Jesus, if very strong words in today’s Gospel reading, made the same point that Isaiah is making. He reminded the crowds of a couple recent tragedies, including a tower falling over and killing eighteen people. None of these eighteen expected that this would be their last day. No one saw the tower collapse coming. Some of them may have been thinking: I need to start doing the things God wants me to do. I need to make amends with my neighbour, my parents, my siblings. I need to give up some thins I am doing that are wrong. Perhaps they had been considering these things for some days, or weeks, or months, or years. But now it was too late. Jesus warns his listeners that their time might also be limited. He finishes with the story of the fig tree. It has no born fruit and the owner (God) says it is time to cut it down. But the gardener (Jesus) says give it another year. Let me work on it for another year.

Jesus does not easily give up on us. But he also warns us that and end may well come to the opportunity to choose to follow him, to choose to return to him, to do that thing that we know God wants us to do.

Free stuff? Hard for us to believe, but in God’s case, he really does offer us his love for free. And now is the time to seek him, while he is near and may be found.

Free love and mercy. It’s a deal that is hard to believe. But God’s thoughts and ways are very different to our own.

But we may not always be is position to respond to God. We do not know when Christ will return, we do not know when our own earthly journey will end, we do not know when circumstances will change and the opportunity to do something that we felt God was calling us to do will pass.

So the message of both Jesus, expressed in stark terms in today’s Gospel text, and that of Isaiah, expressed more gently, is the same. It is one of urgency. God’s grace is on offer. God wants us to return to him. But now is the time to respond.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.

 2 Lent 2025
Philippians 3:17-4:1 

Citizenship is a big issue today. There has been much in the news about citizenship ceremonies and when to hold them, and each election year several pre-selected political candidates are forced to withdraw because it is found that they are citizens of more than one country. We read also of those who have live most of their lives in Australia, but never formally took up citizenship, being deported if they are convicted of a serious criminal offence.

In our own congregation we have a number of people currently working through the ever more complex process of getting a visa that will eventually allow them to obtain Australian citizenship.

Being a citizen is a big deal.

It was a big deal in earlier generations also. Early German Lutheran migrants in the mid-19^th century were keen to swear their allegiance to the king and be Australian citizens. It was symbolic of their new life and the fact they were here to stay.

After the second world war waves of migrants came to Australia, most eager to take up citizenship as soon as they could.

But others in this period resisted taking up Australian citizenship, choosing to live their whole lives here as permaent residents. They were reluctant migrants in the aftermath of war and it was too hard emotionally to let go of their previous citizenship – because that citizenship continued to mean a great deal to them.

Citizenship also becomes important if someone gets into any legal or medical strife while traveling overseas. Citizens of strong countries who actively care for their citizens get consular assistance quickly and are often flown out of dangerous situations by special flights. Citizens of impoverished nations get no such help. So in such cases, again, the question of citizenship becomes important.

In the Roman world, the world in which the Apostle Paul lived, citizenship was also important. The prized citizenship to have at that time was Roman citizenship.  If you had Roman citizenship you had some special rights. You could not simply be arrested and tried anywhere in the world by local authorities without Roman involvement. And if you were convicted of a series offence anywhere, you had the right to appeal, all the way to Ceasar.

Paul, by virtue of his birth in Tarsus and other considerations, was in the rare situation of being a Roman citizen. This is something that assisted him often in his travels and in times of difficulty. Many would have been envious of him for having Roman citizenship as it was greatly prized.

Paul uses citizenship several times in his writings to illustrate a point. Today’s Epistle reading is one such text.

After talking about the way some who do not know Christ live, Paul reminds his readers that they are not to be like that. ‘But our citizenship is in heaven,’ he says.

There are three important points about citizenship that the Apostle makes in this text.

First, citizenship is about identity and belonging.

Everyone wants to belong somewhere. There are few things more difficult than the situation of those people who are considered ‘stateless.’ They are in a terrible limbo in which no country will officially recognise or claim them. When we migrate to a new country, it is often very important to officially belong to this new country. That is why citizenship ceremonies continue to be very popular despite disputes about when they are held. New citizens want to celebrate that they are now officially Australian. They want to celebrate that they belong here.

Paul reminds his readers that there is a citizenship that is even more prized and more important than Roman citizenship. That is the citizenship of heaven.

It is nearly impossible to gain citizenship to some countries if you were not born there, and born to citizens of that country. Even immigrant countries like Australia, the US, Canada and NZ are increasingly difficult to gain citizenship to.

In Paul’s time, if you were not born a Roman, Roman citizenship was not only prized, it was rare.

But the greatest and most powerful kingdom of all, Paul reminds us, is the kingdom of heaven. And citizenship of heaven belongs to everyone who is in Christ. If you are a follower of Jesus, then you are a citizen of heaven. That is our true identity. The citizenship of heaven trumps all other citizenships. When we are in Christ, we belong to Christ. And we are citizens of his heavenly kingdom, and of the kingdom that will one day also be manifest on earth.

The second point the Apostle makes is this: Citizenship comes with expectations.

We see this in our own context today. When one takes an oath of citizenship, it is clear that there are certain expectations. It is expected that one will be loyal to one’s country, follow its laws, etc.

Paul reminds us that as citizens of heaven we are expected to live like citizens of Christ’s kingdom. We are not to live like those who care only about the flesh, about filling our bellies, about earthly glory. We are to live as those following the Way that Jesus showed us. We are to live lives modelled on the love we have in Christ and the love he calls us to show to one another. We are to live lives focused on the importance of heavenly things. We are to live lives of service and discipleship.

Paul is telling us that being a citizen makes a difference. And being a citizenship comes with certain rights and expectations. And this is true especially of being a citizen of the heavenly kingdom.

Finally, citizenship brings with it the right and expectation of assistance.

I think we are all familiar with the expectation of consular assistance that we, and citizens of most other countries, can expect if we get into strife abroad.

Paul reminds us that as citizens of Christ’s heavenly kingdom, we are all living ‘abroad’ on this earth. Our true citizenship is in heaven. And we can expect help from there. The Apostle writes: ‘It is from heaven that we are expecting a Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ.’

The kingdom of heaven does not simply send some consular staff member to check on our well-being. The king himself will come to us, and will come as the one who rescues and saves us.

And what services can we expect when this heavenly assistance comes to its citizens? It is a pretty impressive. Pual tells us that when our king, Jesus, comes to the citizens of his kingdom, ‘he will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory.’ In other words, when Jesus returns, he will transform us all and we will be given resurrected bodies that no longer faulter under the strain of sickness and age and other mortal limitations.

And Jesus can do this because his is the king, he can do it through ‘the power that enables him to make all things subject to himself.’ Our king is more powerful than any other king, and he does not forget the citizens of his kingdom.

So in knowledge of who we are in Jesus, of who we are as citizens of Chrit’s heavenly kingdom, Paul urges us to stand firm. That is, we are not to become overwhelmed. We are not to lose heart. We are not to stop living as citizens of Christ’s kingdom.

We know who Jesus is. And we know who we are citizens of his heavenly kingdom, awaiting the return of our king.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.

Luke 4:1-13

The Greek author Niko Kazantzakis wrote a famous novel in 1955 called The Last Temptation of Christ (later made into a really awful movie) that was inspired by today’s Gospel reading. The premise that Satan would return at an opportune time to have one last go at tempting Jesus to stray from the path of the cross. In Kanzantzakis story, Jesus is tempted while on the cross. He is tempted to come down from the cross and to live a normal live. To get married, have children, and most of all, not be crucified. Jesus imagines what a ‘normal’ happy human life might be like. And it is tempting, but in the end, Jeus resists this temptation, just as he did the earlier temptations of Satan, and remains on the cross.

The point of the novel was to portray the fact that for Jesus to really be tempted, the temptation must be subtle and must, well, … be truly tempting.

Many times we think of temptation in very crass and obvious terms.  We imagine that someone will offer us great sums of money to join an organised crime gang, or will come up to us and say, ‘would you like to try some really dangerous drugs?’ But the reality, of course, is that temptation doesn’t happen like this. Temptation is always subtle and always makes a good point.

We see this in the account of Jesus’ temptation. The story is about Jesus’ preparation for his ministry. It is also a story that gives those who follow Jesus an understanding of what it means to be tempted, or tested. And we learn from Jesus’ example how to deal with temptation.

A point that needs to kept in mind from the beginning is that the word ‘tempted’ can also mean ‘tested.’ Both senses are probably intended in today’s text. From Satan’s perspective this is a temptation, it is an attempt to cause Jesus to stray from the path of the cross. From the perspective of the Father, who leads Jesus through the Spirit into the dessert, this is a test, a test which shows who Jesus is and shows his preparedness to begin his public ministry.

In the same way, temptations that we encounter often also have the positive aspect of a test that can show us who we are in Christ, and can show us that we really can follow God’s call or path for us.

So let’s look at the temptation of Jesus and what we can learn from it.

The context is that Jesus has been fasting in the wilderness for forty days. This has clear allusions to the wandering of Israel in the dessert for forty years, and it is no coincidence that the quotes Jesus uses to respond to Satan come from the book of Deuteronomy, that is, from this very time in Israel’s history. Perhaps it is Jesus’ way of showing that he is able to pass the tests that the people of God in the wilderness failed to pass.

The first temptation or test of Jesus.

After forty days of fasting, we are told that Jesus was hungry. This has to be one of the great understatements of the Bible! Such a fast would have allowed liquid drink, and perhaps some very small amounts of nourishment found in the surrounds, but no proper, filling meals. So Jesus would have been in a very weakened condition both physically and mentally. It was the ideal time for Satan to tempt him.

And the first temptation is quite simple and seemingly harmless. ‘If you are the Son of God, turn these stones into loaves of bread.’

After forty days of fasting the small rounded rocks, about the shape and size of small loaves of bread, must have increasingly looked like bread to Jesus. So Satan uses something already in Jesus’ mind. Also, the conditional ‘if you are the Son of God,’ can also be translated as ‘since you are the Son of God.’

And this makes more sense. Satan knew how Jesus was, and Jesus knew that Satan knew who he was. So why beat around the bush. The point of the temptation isn’t to question who Jesus is, it is to get him to veer from his appointed path.

The temptation here is to abandon the humility of the incarnation, the living of life as a human, and to use his divine power (which was, after all, his right) for his own personal benefit.

Jesus had finished his forty days of fasting. And the nearest bakery was a long walk away. So why not replicate the miracle of manna in the dessert and produce a few tasty, freshly baked loaves of bread from the local rocks?

This is a type of temptation or test that we also face.

It is the temptation to think of our own needs first.

It is the temptation to put physical matters above spiritual matters.

It is the temptation to do what we would like to do rather than following what God wants us to do.

Jesus resisted this temptation with a quote from scripture. (And recalling or thinking of a key Bible verse, by the way, is a very good way to deal with temptation or testing).

Jesus quotes Deuteronomy 8:3: ‘One does not live by bread alone.’ He reminds the devil that, hungry as he is, there are more important things to consider than filling one’s stomach. That can wait. The rest of the verse that he quotes, which would have been well known to every Jewishreader, it that we instead live ‘by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.’

The second test:

Having failed in this first, subtle attempt, Satan takes a more direct approach. He leads Jesus (presumably in a vision) to a high mountain from which all the kingdoms of the world could be seen. These were the kingdoms that Jesus as God in flesh was meant one day to rule. These were the people Jesus came to redeem. But the route to do this was a difficult one. It was the path of the cross.

Satan offers Jesus a deal. There is an easier way, he says. Simply pay me homage, some little sign of worship, and I will let go of my claim on all these kingdoms that are in my power and they can be yours, simple as that. All I am asking is for a little sign of respect and recognition.

Now there are a couple of problems with Satan’s offer. Firstly, he overstates his role. While Satan might seem to rule over the kingdoms of the world, they never did belong to him. He is offering what is not really his to offer. Secondly, no matter how little a sign of respect or worship he is asking for, it would be giving him something that can only be given by Jesus in his incarnate form to the Father.

The temptation here is to take a shortcut. We have all been in this situation. Just skim over the readings and sign the statement that you have read them.  Just dig the post holes at half the depth and fill them with half the concrete. Less time and less money and it will all look the same in the end. Life is full of the illusion of shortcuts. Want to lose weight, just buy this fancy device that will jiggle the fat away while watching television?

Shortcuts, of course, seldom lead us to where we wanted to go. A couple of years ago we drove to the top of Mount Bago. It was a long and circuitous route, that took us past the Bago Maze and winery. Once at the top I noticed a road that would take us in four kilometres back to the main road rather than the 12 kilometres the way we came. The road looked good to I headed down it, only to find after a precarious descent that the road was washed out, and had probably been in this state for some years, at the bottom. So we had to make the very difficult and trickly climb back up the mountain in order to go back down the correct way.

I am sure you can think of many examples in your life when you have been tempted to take a shortcut, and it didn’t work out as you had hoped. And that is the trap in Satan’s temptation to Jesus. The shortcut did lead to where it appeared to go.

Jesus recognised this, but did not argue this point with Satan. He simply cited another verse from Deuteronomy that settled the issue. Once more Jesus relied on scripture to deal with temptation. ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’ There was no question that Jesus could give even the smallest worship to Satan.

The third test.

So Satan switches tact and has one more attempt. This time he quotes scripture himself, since Jesus seems to take these texts so seriously. Satan transports Jesus to the top of the temple and says, ‘Jump off. Think of the show. Look at the crowds below. They would instantly know who you are. And you would not be hurt because scripture says, (in Psalm 91) He will command his angels concerning you to protect you. On their hands they will bear you up so that you will not dash you foot against a stone.’

Satan is challenging Jesus to fulfill scripture. That doesn’t sound so bad. But the temptation is to show off.

The temptation is to go for the glory and avoid the cross.

he temptation is to impress the crowds, rather than obeying the Father.

Jesus again responds with a quote from Deuteronomy, this time from 6:16, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’

Jesus’ response reminds Satan who Jesus is. He is Satan’s God and maker as well, and he has no business trying to tempt or test him. And Satan has nothing left to say and leaves Jesus, for the time being at least.

We cannot, of course, immitate Jesus exactly in this response. We cannot point out that we are God, as we are clearly not. But we can point out, like Jesus did, who we are. We may not be God, but we do belong to God. We belong to Jesus, because he did not give in to temptation. He did not take the short cut, but went to the cross.

So when we are tempted, when we have been tested from every angle and our back is against the wall. We need to remind Satan, and remind ourselves, who we are. ‘Do not bother tempting me, I belong to Jesus, I am his and not yours.’

And we need to tell ourselves this time and again as we are tested in this life, as we will be often.

Every temptation is also a test, and in overcoming the temptation we grow through being tested and prepared by God. We grow through being forced, in the end, to come back to the one point that really matters. We belong to Christ.

Amen.
Pastor Mark Worthing.

The Text: Luke 4:1-13

 

It’s one of the most recognisable icons throughout the world—the logo behind the i-Phone, i-Pad and i-Mac computer brand: Apple. So I thought this memo that has been circulating on the internet is quite ingenious: “Adam and Eve—the first people to not read the apple terms and conditions.”

That’s a clever pun referring to the Devil’s tempting Adam and Eve to disobey God and take a bite from the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. The temptation, though, was so much more than simply taking a bite from an apple—or whatever the fruit was. It was a temptation to be like God, knowing good and evil…in other words, to put themselves in the place of God himself and decide right and wrong for themselves. The consequences of this were serious; a matter of life and death…actually, just death…for everyone. The Apostle Paul put it this way: “…sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all humankind…” (Romans 5:12).

In today’s Gospel reading, there is also a temptation involving food. Luke tells us that Jesus returned from the Jordan after he was baptised, to be tempted by the Devil in the desert for 40 days. During that time Jesus ate nothing, and at the end of the 40 days he was hungry. Remember that Jesus is fully human, born to Joseph and Mary. He has real human cravings and needs. Imagine how difficult going without food for 40 days would have been. Then the devil comes to Jesus and strikes right at the centre of his need: “If you are the Son of God tell this stone to become bread.”

Like it was for Adam and Eve back in the Garden of Eden, how Jesus responds to this temptation is also a matter of life and death. With his tempting of Jesus, I wonder whether Satan is really questioning if Jesus is the Son of God. The Greek word for ‘if’ can also mean ‘since’—and I think that’s how ‘if’ is functioning here. Even the demons know Jesus’ identity; it is later in this chapter that Luke tells us that “demons also came out of many, crying, ‘You are the Son of God!’”

Although Satan doesn’t know all things, he does know that Jesus is the Saviour that God promised right back in the beginning in Genesis 3; the one who would bruise his heel as he crushed Satan’s head. He knows that Jesus is the Saviour of the world the whole Old Testament pointed to. This is the Messiah the prophets spoke of and the people were waiting for. What the devil is saying is: “Since you are the Son of God tell this stone to become bread.”

For Satan knew that all that stood between him and the human race being forever enslaved to his demonic power, is Jesus. Right there in the desert, with Jesus famished and physically and emotionally weak from hunger, there’s never been a better opportunity. Satan knows Jesus could turn the stones into loaves so he tempts Jesus at Jesus’ time of desperate need, to live independently of his Father’s will. If he can get Jesus to think of himself and use his power to satisfy his cravings instead of being obedient to his Heavenly Father, Jesus will be his, and the whole world will be lost and condemned forever.This is Satan’s power play for eternal world domination.

This is most clear with the second temptation in the text. The devil led Jesus up to a high place and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And he said to Jesus, “I will give you all their authority and splendour, for it has been given to me, and I can give it to anyone I want to. So if you worship me, it will all be yours” (verses 5-7). What a lie! For we hear at the close of Matthew’s Gospel Jesus say to his disciples: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.”

It was Satan who had bitten off more than he could chew. For Jesus is not only fully human, he shares the same divine nature of his Father and the Holy Spirit from all eternity. Where Adam and Eve failed to live by God’s word and sought their own will, Jesus, the second Adam, faithfully lives by God’s word and rebukes Satan with Scripture.

In response to the first temptation to turn the stone into bread, Jesus responds with Deuteronomy 8:3: “one does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD.” The context of this was God feeding his people Israel with manna as they wandered in the wilderness for 40 years. They too, like Jesus, were hungry. God had freed them. But unlike Jesus they lacked faith. They complained against God by complaining against his leader, Moses. They despised the manna God sent from heaven. God was teaching them that they should trust him. There in the desert, Jesus trusted that just as his Father fed the Israelites in their 40 years of wandering in the wilderness, so too his Father will provide for him in his 40^th day of hunger.

To the temptation of worshipping Satan to gain the world’s kingdoms, Jesus responds with Deuteronomy 6:13: “Fear the LORD your God and serve him only” and then from a few verses on: “You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.” All temptation is a temptation to live independently of God, to be masters of our own fate, to do what we feel like doing for a fleeting moment of pleasure, or to feel good about ourselves, or to cope with stresses or problems in ways that clearly contradict God’s word. When we succumb to temptations, we say “No thanks God, I’ll do it my way” We break the first commandment, to fear, love and trust God above everything else and we put God to the test. That’s a complete reversal of things for it is God who is the perfectly faithful one to test us; to refine our faith.

As much as we hate to hear it, we put God to the test and often live by bread alone, failing to fear and serve God only. We might think we do OK because we haven’t taken drugs or robbed a bank or murdered anyone. But Satan tempts us to live by bread alone in everyday, subtle ways. The Ten Commandments show us that our missing the mark of God’s standards is endless: using God’s name in vain in grumbling against him like the Israelites in the desert. Laying his word aside rather than gladly hearing and learning it, or maybe using our way of helping in the church, or our worship, as a way of trying to get God to show us more favour than he has before. To criticise rather than respect, or using our tongue to get even with those who have caused hurt, rather than to forgive them. To covet what our neighbours have and think we are not really complete unless we have it, rather than be content with what God has already blessed us with, and to work hard at gaining the approval of others instead of resting in the approval the Father gives us through faith in Christ.

There is another way the Devil tempts all of us. When we follow Adam and Eve’s footsteps and live independently of God’s word, and the Devil heaps condemnation upon us, and tempts us to disbelieve the promise of God’s word—that we are justified by faith alone and there is no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus. The Devil tempts us to think that we need something in addition to Jesus for us to be properly reconciled to God. He tempts us to doubt God’s favour could be for us, or to think that God is punishing or cursing us for past sins when calamity comes our way. He tempts us to disbelieve that God’s love for the world could ever really be for us.

But Satan is the one without hope! What happened in our Gospel reading is part of Jesus’ total redemptive work for the world. Jesus’ overcoming temptation in the desert points ahead to the Cross, where further on in Luke’s Gospel, we again hear those mocking words and the temptation to Jesus to not carry out God’s plan: “The people stood watching, and the rulers even sneered at him. They said, ‘He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Christ of God.” The soldiers also came up and mocked him. They offered him wine vinegar and said, “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself“ (23:35-36).

But again Jesus thinks not of displaying his power and authority for his own sake—although completely innocent and blameless, he suffered to the end of his bloody and brutal death, and once for all overcame sin, death and the devil, so that we might live. And just when Satan thought he had Jesus where he had him, comes the glorious afterglow of the resurrection, which our Lenten season culminates with. Satan’s empire has collapsed!

Baptised into that same death and resurrection, we are united with Christ and are clothed in his own perfect righteousness as the Father’s dear child. We are freed from Satan’s power and his dominion of darkness and brought into the Kingdom of glorious light in the life of Jesus. In our baptism we have received the same Holy Spirit that Jesus did in his baptism, and our Heavenly Father continues to pour out his Spirit on us through his Son as he meets us and serves us through his life-giving word. This word brings divine nourishment for our body and soul that cannot come from bread alone.

Though we all struggle to a lesser or greater degree as Satan waits for the opportune times to tempt us, God promises to bless us through Jesus’ powerful, life-giving gospel, with grace and strength to resist temptation. Jesus himself prays for us, as the crucified risen Christ leads us in prayer to his Father: “Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.”

Jesus gives us food for the journey in your times in the desert. He is the bread of life who feeds you, God’s people, with true bread from heaven. He doesn’t make stones become loaves, but when he speaks, simple wafers are at the same time his true body, and the wine his precious blood. As he gives it to you, hear him say: “This is my body, given for you. This is my blood, shed for you for the forgiveness of all your sins. Believe him because then we have the fullness of what he promises: forgiveness, life and salvation; the sharing in of Jesus’ own victory for the world over sin death Satan and hell.

Satan cannot give us anything. He can only lie, deceive and bring fear. But our Father in heaven has given us a Kingdom greater than all the kingdoms of the world. For his kingdom has come to us in the Christ, the Son of God, who does not just give us an example to follow. He has given himself, for us. So when the devil knocks at the door, send Jesus to answer it—since he is the Son of God who has already won the victory over sin, death and the devil for you. Amen.

John 11:55-12:8

Today’s gospel text is a follow-on from the account of the raising of Lazarus, in which we were introduced to Mary of Bethany. In fact, when John first mentions Mary in the account of Lazarus he makes a point of telling us that this is the same Mary who anointed Jesus (11:2).

And it is clear that Mary is the central character in this story. John tells us that Martha served at the meal (which is reminiscent of what we know of Martha from the account of her and Mary in Luke’s gospel). In the same sentence we are told that Lazarus was also at the table with Jesus. Next to Jesus, Lazarus was the second guest of honour that night. But other than to link this story to the account of the rising of Lazarus in the preceding chapter, there is no role for Martha and Lazarus in the story that follows. Their presence is noted, and then it is just Mary and Jesus.

While the synoptic accounts of Matthew and Mark are vague about who anoints Jesus, John, an eyewitness of these events, wants to make it very clear that it was Mary of Bethany. This is important because Mary was a friend of Jesus. She was one of his followers. And Jesus had been talking openly to his followers about his impending death. But the disciples did not understand what he is saying. Judas completely misunderstands Jesus and ends of betraying him. Peter, misunderstanding the kind of kingdom Jesus is brining, takes up a sword to defend Jesus, then later denies he knows him. The high priest announces Jesus will die for the people and approves him for death, but does not understand the role he himself is playing because he does not understand who Jesus is and what he is about to do. Pilate, the Roman governor, is more open than the high priest to considering the claims of Jesus, but he too fails to comprehend just who Jesus is and what he is about to do, though Jesus tells him plainly. In fact, in the last days that Jesus dwelt among us only one person really seems to understand who he is, and what he is about to do – and that is Mary of Bethany.

Mary is the friend who is there for Jesus in those dark few days leading to the cross to support him, and anoint him, for what is about to come. And so, before his triumphal entry, we have this intriguing and vital story about Mary and Jesus.

The context of the event is that after some days in a remote place, in order to avoid those who were plotting to kill him after the furor caused by the raising of Lazarus, Jesus shows up at Bethany, at the home of Lazarus, Mary and Martha. And we learn from the other gospels that it is also the home of Simon the former leper. Putting it all together, Simon is likely the uncle of these siblings, who live with him.

In any event, some days after Lazarus is raised from the dead, Jesus shows up at his home – a place to which he was no stranger, for this is where Jesus and his disciples appeared to regularly stay when visiting Jerusalem. And we are told that this took place six days before the Passover, which would have made it a Saturday night. This is the meal that came after the Sabbath had officially ended at sunset.

The response of Lazarus’ family to Jesus’ appearance again in Bethany is exactly what we would expect. They through a big party for Jesus, their friend and teacher, who just a few days earlier turned a tragic wake into the biggest miracle anyone had ever seen. So there is one very big party taking place, with guests likely squeezed into the inner courtyard of the house, and many others packed outside hoping to catch of glimpse of Jesus or Lazarus.

And that’s when it happened.

That’s when Mary, the one person present at the meal that night who truly understood what Jesus has been telling everyone is about to happen, does the unthinkable. She produces a large jar of expensive perfume, worth a year’s wages and likely kept as part of the family’s savings, or perhaps as a dowry for her or her sister Martha. Then she takes the perfume to Jesus and pours it on his feet. On the surface, this action would seem to be an imitation of a ceremony of washing the feet of a guest, usually done by a servant or one of the children. But her act also reminds us of the anointing of the body for burial, often done from head to foot. And kings sometimes had their feet anointed as a part of the coronation ceremony so they could go forth and conquer. So there is plenty of symbolism here.

So Mary washes Jesus’ feet. But she uses very expensive perfume, and not water. So she is doing more than washing his feet. She is also anointing him. Then she undoes her hair in public (something a respectably Jewish woman does not do) and uses her hair to wipe Jesus’ feet. It is an act of great and unexpected humility. One matched only by Jesus’ own act of washing the disciples’ feet a few days later.

What Mary does is an act motivated by love and devotion for Jesus. It is an act that is at the same time one of extraordinary extravagance and extraordinary humility.

First, consider the extravagance of Mary’s act.

In a few seconds time she used up a year’s worth of wages in highly prized scented oil. And remember, Mary’s much loved brother Lazarus had only recently died and gone through his burial rites – and Mary did not bring out the scented oil. That reminds us just how valuable this ointment was. Buying a bouquet of flowers for my wife for her birthday would be a modest symbol of my affection for her. Buying her the entire florist’s shop would be an extravagant and extraordinary display of love – and one that would probably get me in more trouble than simply buying a bouquet of flowers. Essentially, Mary buys Jesus the whole flower shop. She does not hold back in her display of love and devotion.

Now, let us consider the humility of Mary’s act.

If I were to offend my wife in some way – which over the course of 40 years of marriage may from time to time have happened (theoretically, of course), the expected thing for me to do would be to humble myself and say ‘sorry.’ Preferably without adding an explanation as to what she may have said or done to contribute to my poor behaviour. An extreme act of humility on my part would be to sit outside our front door covered in ashes with a sign hanging over by head saying ‘I am sorry.’ Again, such action on my part would likely cause a good deal of embarrassment for my wife, who would more likely have preferred a simple apology. Well, Mary’s basically sits on her doorstep covered in ashes. She washes Jesus’ feet, which the host or hostess would not normally do themselves. She undoes her hair, which a grown Jewish woman never does in public without shaming herself. Then she uses her hair rather than a towel to rub the ointment into Jesus’ feet. It was an act of extreme humility.

[And John tells us the scent of the perfume filled the house, which seems an odd thing to add. And this is in place of the statement in Matthew and Mark that the story of Mary’s actions would be told in years to come in memory of her. What modern readers would not know was that there was a Jewish saying (found for instance in the Rabbha Midrash on Eccles vii,1) that says ‘The fragrance of a good perfume spreads from the bedroom and fills the house just and the a good name is spread from one end of the world to the other.’  So This could well be John’s more poetic way of saying that what Matthew and Mark do, that Mary will be long remembered for this act.]

As you can imagine, Mary’s actions stopped every conversation in the room. There would have been absolute shocked silence. Then Judas speaks up. The other gospels tell us that the disciples as a group complained about this, but John puts the focus on Judas. He says what everyone else is thinking. Mary had not only embarrassed herself, but has just wasted a great deal of money that could have been used to help the poor.

But here’s the thing. Jesus was neither concerned by the extravagance of Mary’s display of love, nor embarrassed by her public display of extreme humility.

Jesus puts Judas and all Mary’s other critics to silence with his words: ‘Leave her alone. She bought the perfume so that she could keep it for the day of my burial.’

Jesus is never embarrassed by those who love him. Jesus is never embarrassed by us. He never distances himself from us.

Jesus accepts Mary’s gift, and explains that she is preparing him for his day of burial.

But the symbolism of what Mary did for Jesus is deeper than the simple preparation for his burial. In fact, this explanation of why Mary did what she did does not quite fit in the context of John’s Gospel. It was important in that time that a body be properly prepared for burial. And it might be important for John to tell us that this, in fact, had been done fore Jesus, although before the event. And if John gave us only the information that we have in the synoptic gospels, then the main point of this story might seem to be to show us that the burial rites of anointing were in fact performed for Jesus. But John (and John alone) tells us that Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus performed the ritual anointing and embalming of the body at considerable expense (19:38,39). So there is no need in John’s Gospel to show that the correct burial rites had been performed for Jesus. This suggests that the anointing performed by Mary had a greater purpose than simply to prepare his body for burial.

As mentioned earlier, there is a more symbolised here than simply the preparation of a body for burial. The use of such expensive scented oil is also reminiscent of the anointing a king. Mary, whether she fully understood it or not, is performing a two-fold service for Jesus. She is preparing him for his death and burial, and she is also anointing him to take up his kingdom. This becomes particularly significant in the order in which John places the anointing in Bethany and the triumphal entry. Matthew and Mark place the triumphal entry first. John puts the anointing in Bethany first. John’s point is clear. Jesus enters Jerusalem as the anointed king. And he goes to his death on the cross as the anointed king.

In the midst of his final week – filled with so much misunderstanding, betrayal, denial, abandonment, rejection and condemnation – one woman, Mary of Bethany, through an act of both extravagance and great humility, anoints Jesus for what is to come as he sets out on his path to the cross.

Then it is Jesus’ turn to act on our behalf. For it is on the cross that Jesus shows us the greatest extravagance of love, and the greatest act of humility, that the world would ever see.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.

The text: John 12:20-33

What would you see as the most glorious thing that could happen to you? Receiving an Australia Day award? Being praised in the presence of others? Gaining recognition in the newspaper for something you’ve done? One of our daily newspapers has a 15 Minutes of Fame column. A person was randomly chosen by a reporter who wrote up a brief sketch of that person’s life for the newspapers. But human fame and glory is quickly forgotten.

God’s idea of glory is totally different. Prior to their wedding day, a pastor was discussing marriage vows with a young couple. The man objected to the words in the vow “’til death do us part”. “Can’t you change the words?” he asked. “I don’t want death mentioned on my wedding day.” For God, death and glory aren’t incompatible. Nothing brings God greater glory than the death of His Son Jesus Christ for us. Jesus wanted God to be glorified by His perfect obedience to the will of God, no matter what the cost.

God doesn’t seek glory by means of a spectacular, sensational public relations stunt. Instead, God hides His glory in the life, suffering and death of Jesus our Saviour. Our world glorifies power, success, strength and affluence. God reveals Himself most fully in the humiliation, vulnerability and weakness of the Cross. The cross of Christ is the hiding place of God’s saving power and glory. We see our Saviour’s glory in His suffering because it shows how much He loves each and every one of us; we see His love in His excruciating agony on the Cross, as it reveals how He sacrificed everything for us. We cannot really understand Jesus apart from His Cross. It is central to why He came to our earth to be one of us, with us.

The Cross of Christ is the climax of His identification with us as mortal men and women. There, Christ carried out His mightiest work of salvation for us. The Cross both reveals and condemns our sin and guilt, and takes it away. We are eternally indebted to Jesus for what He did for us there. In the words of the famous hymn, Rock of ages:      

“Nothing in my hand I bring

 Simply to Your cross I cling.” (LHS 330)

In this morning’s text, some Greek visitors come to Jesus’ disciple Philip, perhaps because of his Greek name, and ask him: “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” What a praiseworthy request! Philip is so excited that folk from the most intellectual and artistic nation of the time come to make contact with Jesus, that he quickly shares the news with his friend Andrew. At last Jesus is going to be recognised as a celebrity! They can’t wait to tell our Lord. Jesus responds that the great hour of His life has arrived.

These Greeks represent us, the Gentiles of the world. Their arrival anticipates Christ’s post-Pentecost mission. Jesus isn’t the latest philosopher or newest religious guru with a trendy recipe for self-advancement or self-enlightenment. Like a wheat crop, before there can be a harvest, grain must be buried in the ground. Jesus compares His mission to a grain of wheat. Before there can be the fruit of mission, of many people being won for Christ, He must sacrifice His life for us.

The sacrifice of His life on the Cross for each of us, and for all people of every race, has and will continue to draw more men and women to Jesus than all His miracles or unsurpassed moral teaching. Jesus wants us to be drawn to Him because of His suffering with and for us, and the sacrifice of His life instead of us, rather than because of His amazing miracles. We’re so reluctant to think or talk about our own or anyone else’s death. Jesus, however, views His death, as the greatest thing He’s done for us. We read in John 15:13, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends.” 

At the same time, giving His life for us wasn’t at all easy for Jesus. For us, often the anticipation of something painful, like going to the dentist, is worse than the event itself. Jesus doesn’t hide the anguish His imminent sacrifice of Himself for us was causing Him. The thought of it filled Him with deep agony: “Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour?” was His painful plea as He anticipates his awful agony in the garden of Gethsemane. Who wants to die at the age of 33? Jesus’ obedience to God’s will came at great personal cost. But as today’s second Bible reading says, “He learnt obedience from what He suffered.” His private agony is transformed into a public confession of His obedience to God: “Father, save me from this hour? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour.” (v27)

By His obedience to God the Father, Jesus came to undo and repair the damage caused by Adam and Eve’s disobedience to God. Nothing less than the future of all of us, of all humankind, was at stake. At any moment, Jesus could have said “no” to the Cross. But for our sakes, He was “obedient unto death, even death on a cross.” This gift of sacrificial love gives us a hope nothing can destroy. Martin Luther King Jr has said, “There are some who still find the Cross a stumbling block, others consider it foolishness. I am more convinced than ever that it is the power of God to social and individual salvation.”

We focus on the Cross of Christ during Lent because it speaks to us primarily of a fellow-sufferer who understands what it’s like for us to suffer and to be afraid of dying. Jesus hears your pain from His cross and not from the cosy comfort of an armchair. Jesus shares your suffering, physical or emotional, however great or small, in ways you can only begin to imagine. Your Saviour’s Cross means you can trust Jesus with your suffering, and discover that trusting Him is life-transforming. Jesus didn’t come to our world to answer your questions about why you’re suffering, but to fill it with His life-changing presence. No other sacrifice has changed as many lives as has Christ’s sacrifice for us. His sacrifice of Himself on the Cross attracts our gratitude because it was so undeserved. Jesus said, “When I am lifted up from the earth, I’ll draw all kinds of people to me (v32).” His death is the magnetism of an utterly selfless sacrifice. There’s something deeply moving about self-giving love, isn’t there? 

Life without sacrifice is a mean existence. We can either hoard what we have or sacrifice it in love for someone else. Jesus invites us to follow Him on the path of sacrificial service. “Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honour the one who serves me (v27).” What a marvellous incentive to join Jesus on the path of sacrificial service. God will exceedingly honour such service. What’s more, Jesus calls those His friends, who serve Him in a way that sacrifices their preferences, their priorities and their inclinations. He says in John 15:15, “I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing, but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from My Father.” To be called Jesus’ friend makes all we do for Him and for each other so very worthwhile, and fills life with meaning and purpose.

Jesus’ cross has transformed how we view life. Life isn’t about what we can get out of it for ourselves, but what we can give for the sake of others. Think of how much poorer our world would be without all those selfless folk whose first concern is always the welfare of others. They invite you to share their discovery, that “life’s happiest hours are those of self-forgetfulness.” We can lose ourselves in serving Jesus because He will never forget us.  

Amen!

John 11:1-44 – 

An interesting point in the story about Lazarus is that he never speaks. In fact, in all the accounts of him and his sisters with Jesus in Bethany, he never says a single word. One reason for this is that Lazarus was likely a very young man, probably still a teenager. The strong indication for this is that he still lives at home with his two apparently older sisters, who do all the speaking, and who would also then appear to be quite young and still unmarried. And the three of them appear to live in the home of Simon, for they serve at his house as if it were their own, yet it never names Simon as their father. Quite possibly they are orphans, which was very common in the day, and Simon would have been the closest relative, quite possibly an uncle. Somehow, the family was known to Jesus, for he stays with them in this village just outside of Jerusalem whenever he visits the city.

So Lazarus is a key figure in this story, but ironically, not one of the central characters. The central characters are Jesus and Lazarus’ two sisters, Mary and Martha.

The youth of Lazarus puts the concern and intense grief of his sisters in perspective. His death becomes all the more tragic. It also explains the reaction of Jesus and his disciples, who were all found of Lazarus. Indeed, when Mary and Martha write to Jesus they say ‘The one you love is sick.’

The actions and the words in this story are all those of the sisters and Jesus. The role of Lazarus, quite simply, is to take ill and tragically die.

When it is clear that Lazarus is quite sick it is Mary and Martha do the obvious thing. They reach out to Jesus.

I wonder for how many of us that is the first and obvious thing to do when confronted with crisis. Is Jesus the first person we reach out to, or more of an afterthought. ‘Oh yes, we should say a prayer too.”

And as an interesting aside here, they reach out to Jesus by writing him a letter, which indicated that they were literate, which was not common for women as that time and suggests the kind of upbringing they had in Bethany.

Jesus receives the letter, but then decides to wait two days before leaving for Betthany. And for those who find this unnecessary and unpastoral on the part of Jesus note that it is a two day journey form the part of the Jordan where John had been baptizing to Bethany. And Lazarus was already dead four days when Jesus arrived. So even if Jesus and his disciples had left immediately, they would have arrived two days after his death. In fact, the words of Jesus to his disciples before they finally leave for Bethany, ‘Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep,’ (v. 11) indicates that Jesus knew Lazarus was dead before he began the journey.

And when he arrives it is Martha who comes out to meet him with the words, ‘Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died.’  Were these words of regret or accusation? They are certainly words of despair spoken out of grief. And meanwhile Mary ‘stayed at home’ not even coming out to greet Jesus. This a sign of her anger at the delay of Jesus. And we should not be too quick to judge either Martha or Mary for their responses to Jesus’s late arrival. Jesus certainly does not judge them. He recognises that they are within the range of emotions that quite naturally come from a place of deep grief.

After talking with Martha, Jesus calls for Mary. Note how he deals with each one individually in their grief. And when Mary arrives she says the exact same thing her sister had said. ‘Lord, if yu have been here my brother would not have died.’ (v. 32). And now it does sound even more like an accusation that when Martha had said it. But again, Jesus does not rebuke her, he does not challenge her, he does not even attempt to explain his delay. What does he do? He weeps when he sees Mary weeping (vv 33, 34). Jesus again provides a model for pastoral care for those in deep grief.

It is only after he has wept with the sisters that he asks to be taken to the tomb. In fact, when Jesus asks where Lazarus is buried, there say ‘Come and see.’ It is the final time these words will be spoken in John’s Gospel. In the early chapters they were always an invitation to come and see Jesus. Now it looks on the surface to be an invitation to Jesus to come and see Lazarus’ tomb. But as the story unfolds, we see that the words, though not their intention, are once more an invitation to comes and see Jesus.

And, of course, the rest of the story is well known. Lazarus has been dead for four days, and there is a stench when the tomb is opened. This was not mistaken case of fainting or falling into a coma. And Jesus calls out to the Father not because he needed to, but as an example to all of us, that we might believe that Jesus is God, and has the power to bring life from death. We truly do come to see Jesus at the tomb of Lazarus.

And we need to be clear here that Lazarus was not resurrected. Jesus is the first and so far only person to experiences this transformation which awaits us all. Though after four days it must have been complex, Lazarus is resuscitated. He will die again some day, but not then.

And Jesus speaks to Lazarus, the dead man, with the voice of command. ‘Lazarus, come out!’ It is not a suggestion. Who can order the dead? Who can call the dead to life? Only God himself.

And so, like with Jesus’ first miracle at the wedding in Cana, his last recorded miracle in John’s gospel is an affirmation that he is in fact none other than God dwelling among us in human flesh.

Lazarus fades from history. Today he would be an insta-celeb giving talks about his experience of life after death. People have made a fortune from 10 minutes without a heartbeat talking about what their near-death experiences. Imagine the four days. Perhaps L. had nothing to say. Remembered nothing. Perhaps he did. But the point is that the story is not about Lazarus. It never was. It is all about Jeus, his divinity, his love and care for us, his compassion, his power over life and death. It’s his last major miracle before the cross as recorded by John – and it’s a big one. John doesn’t spend as much time on the miracles of Jesus as the other gospels. But the ones he includes are highly significant, as we saw in the first miracle of Jesus at the wedding in Cana. And now this final miracle in John’s gospel is again, like the first, a clear affirmation that Jesus is more than a great prophet, more than the expected Messiah. He is God.

But there is more to the miracle than that. Like the miracle in Cana, Jesus shows compassion. But this is far bigger than the embarrassment of running out of wine at a wedding. Jesus shows genuine compassion for people in the midst of deep grief.

This final miracle of Jesus is about hope in the midst of grief. The key words in this text are those spoken to Martha, when he first arrived in Bethany, the words he spoke while her sister Mary, still upset perhaps at Jesus’ delay in coming, was waiting in the house. He says to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in me will live, even though they did, and whoever lives by believing in me, will never die.’

It’s a big statement. And it is not just about Lazarus. Jesus it telling Martha a truth that is also for her, for Mary, for his disciples, for everyone who will someday follow him. It is about us. And Jesus finishes with a question that also applies to us. ‘Do you believe this?’

Martha’s response is something evasive. ‘I believe you are the Messiah,’ she says. It conveys confidence and trust in who Jesus is, but does not quite embrace and accept the full depth of what he has just told her.

Martha, in this sense is a lot like us. We believe in Jesus. We believe he is the Christ, the Messiah. But has the full truth of who he is and what he offers us really sunk in?

There is much to learn from the story of Lazarus. And none of it is about satisfying our curiosity about life after death or near-death experiences. We learn that Jesus is compassionate and cares deeply about those in grief. In fact, he weeps with us. And we learn that Jesus himself is the ultimate response to our grief. It is Jesus himself who is the resurrection and the life.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.

Numbers 21:4-9  Ephesians 2:1-10 John 3:14-21

The Old Testament reading brings before us a thread which runs through the whole of the Bible and it is well known that Martin Luther lay great weight upon it in all his teachings. For him it was no less a principal rule of all human knowledge of God.

It is this, that when we speak and hear about God, we are not concerned with the naked majesty of God but with a veil or covering. (velamen) At other times he speaks of a mask or (larvae) from which we get the English word lava by which is meant the embryonic form of an insect in which is hidden its fully developed form.

According to Luther we must not run away from the masks or larvae with which God clothes himself in God’s relationship with us for if we do we risk not only losing God but of finding a hostile God, the Devil. We must be thankful for these masks because if we are to know God, we must seek Him where He has sought us behind the veils and the masks which are signs of His majesty. According to Luther, apart from these veils or hiddenness of God, God is not to be found.

We can hardly understand this morning’s Old Testament reading as nothing less than a confirmation of Luther’s rule. The people of Israel are on their journey from captivity in Egypt. They had been freed by the events celebrated in the Passover. They had been preserved by God in their crossing of the Sea. As they journeyed, they became tired and weary of the seeming purposeless of their wandering. They forget that God has preserved them as his people through all the events associated with God’s actions on their behalf as they escaped from their bondage in Egypt. They begin to grumble against God and Moses. “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt, to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we loathe this worthless food.”

How in their circumstance can they know that God is with them; that they are part of God’s gracious purpose in calling them His own? Seemingly to magnify their discomfort they are set upon by a plague of poisonous snakes whose bite proves fatal to many of the people. They come to Moses and plead their case: admitting they had ceased to believe in God’s gracious purpose for them and pleading with Moses to ask God to have have mercy on His unbelieving people. There follows Moses fashioning the bronze image of a snake and putting on a pole, telling the people if anyone is bitten by a snake to look at the serpent on the pole and they will be healed. The symbol of the people’s death by snake bite becomes a life-giving sign. God fulfills his promised faithfulness to His people by being amongst them as the life giver through the sign of their death. The sign or mask of God’s presence is hidden under its opposite as to with the Cross of Christ in the NT.

As Luther points out when commenting on another biblical verse:-

Accordingly, God humbles those who are His to exalt them; He kills them to make them alive; He confounds them to glorify them; This is the art of arts and science of sciences which is not usually learned or discovered except with great toil and by a few; but it is nevertheless sure and certain, as this example shows, for what is stated in Ps. 105:21 is true: “The Lord appointed Joseph king of Egypt and lord and savior of many.” How? By having him sold, cast off, killed. These works of God are not understood unless they are fulfilled and completed. In the meantime, however, while they are being carried out, they cannot be grasped except by faith alone.

We see in this incident something of the basic configuration of the relationship between God and Israel and, representatively in and through Israel, between the church, the new Israel of God and its Lord, Jesus Christ. We now come to the NT reading with all this in mind.

St John:16; is perhaps one of the most well-known sayings written in the New Testament. It appears in isolation to be an exposition in itself and therefore has an obvious meaning; yet the reverse is true. But the verse occurs and is to be understood within a definite context. It is to be understood in terms of the conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus regarding the new birth – which is anything but easy to understand.

The conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus brings together some of the ideas which are characteristic of St John’s vision of the mystery of the person of Jesus Christ and the meaning of His presence in the world: ideas which we have already met in God’s revelation to Moses, of how the hidden God of grace of the Old Testament is, at one and the same time, the revealed grace of God. So too is the truth of God’s revelation in the New Testament.

Jesus says to Nicodemus that it is necessary that one should be born “from above” in order to see the Kingdom of God, God’s rule on earth. To be “born from above” is to see God’s divinity, God’s Godness, in Jesus, BUT this contradicts or hides our natural understanding of the divine. To be “born from above” is to rivet our attention on that which is below. For God’s being “above” is God’s being “below” in the depths. God’s exaltation his highness is God’s humiliation. His lowness. His being lifted up of which Jesus speaks is His exaltation as the Son of God. But His exaltation, his being lifted up, (on the cross as the serpent in the wilderness) is in the form of His deepest humiliation, His nakedness and His abandonment, above all by God, on the cross.

It is this that is the primary offence to Nicodemus whose view of God is such as to exclude self abasement, humiliation and weakness. His God is the God where high is high and low is low, God and human beings live out their respective lives according to the natural view of how things are between God and the world. Thus, his view of being born from above can only be understood in terms of the natural processes of human generation. Whereas for St John, birth from above is grounded in the new humanity which comes to light in the exaltation of our humanity in the humiliation of God on the cross. His being “lifted up.”

This is the first aspect of God’s hiddenness to which St. John points – the humiliation of God is in fact God’s exaltation and those who are given to believe this truth as the source of their life before God see the contours of that life in the divinity of the Son of God present in the world in the depths of our human condition, alienated as it is, from God.

This aspect of God’s hiddenness is taken up and verified in the words concerning Moses lifting up the serpent in the wilderness, as likewise so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in Him may have eternal life. The lifting up of Jesus here not only refers to His being lifted up on the cross. But that in His lifting up we are to see the exaltation of God; God’s highness, His being “above”, His being the transcendent, is made possible by being the God who is so free in His grace toward us as to be God in the depths of His humiliation.

We see this truth through the veil of the cross. As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness in the midst of the people stricken and dying by its malignant sting, that which was the symbol of the death, the destroyer, the enemy, the serpent, becomes the symbol of their healing and health. As it is still today a symbol of medical professions healing. So too Jesus, the Son of God, reveals His divinity, His exulted nature, as He shares to the limit God’s abandonment of the creature in death and the grave. This place of abandonment, the place of God’s enemies, becomes the place where the Son of God resides. Our godforsakenness is made His own. As St Paul unhesitatingly concludes Jesus is made to be sin that we may become the righteousness of God in Him. (2.Cor.5:21.)

Those who are born from above are those to whom it is given to acknowledge the divinity of the Son of God present in the world in His exaltation as the humiliated God for our sake. It is only in this context that we can begin to understand the verse which is so well known. For God so loved the world…………

This verse repeats what we have already been told. For ‘God so loved’ refers back to the reality which those who are born from above confess; God’s love is not some abstract other worldly quality but the specific action of God in which God’s exaltation is revealed in the lifting up of Jesus in His humiliation on the cross. God so loved the world – it is the world which is the object, and in Jesus, the subject of God’s love. For St John the “world” the kosmos, is not some neutral concept but is the world understood in active organised opposition to God, the world as God’s enemy is what God loves.

The manner of God’s loving brings out the inner meaning of God’s hiddenness which St John emphasises; the fact that God’s exaltation is God’s humiliation. God loves the world so much that God surrenders up God’s own Son. It is this divine self offering which is the ground swell of the earthly form of Jesus exaltation in His humiliation on the cross. In this way God exposes or hazards, risks God’s own existence as God for the sake of the stricken and benighted creature.

The Christian message is the word about this act of extravagant love of God in which God pledges God’s own self on behalf of the weak and threatened creature. To receive this as good news is to see the Kingdom of God amongst us. There is no way of understanding God’s action and our participation in it as those who believe, or who “see” the kingdom of God, from the point of view of our humanity rising up to God, of achieving unity with the divine either by an inward or outward spiritual journey which we undertake into the depths of our souls or by transcending our creatureliness.

This impossibility is equivalent to Nicodemus’ proposition that a grown person should enter a second time their mother’s womb and be born. For new birth is not accomplished by us it is accomplished for us. In the humanity of the Son of God our humanity is both judged and made anew by the humiliation of the Son of God. In Him is revealed the mystery that the humiliation of God is the exaltation of the creature. It is in Him and Him alone that we are born again. In acknowledging this, in believing this, we ‘see’ the Kingdom of God. We are born again.

God the Father is no longer veiled or hidden; His glory is revealed in the glory of His Son Jesus who in unity with the Father’s will goes to the depths of the godforsakeness of the world’s alienation from God in the cross to redeem us all.  To know and believe this is to be born again. Amen
Dr. Gordon Watson.