|
|
TrinityWilliam Loader Trinity: 18 May Matthew 28:16-20 This is such an important text in the context of Matthew's gospel that there is a danger that its use on Trinity Sunday will lead to too much focus on its tenuous links with the Trinity, so I want to start with the passage itself. It has enormous significance as the climax of the gospel, drawing together major themes of the gospel. Notice to begin with that the women have already encountered Jesus and worshipped (28:8-9) - and not doubted! The eleven worship, but some doubt (28:17). Is Matthew a feminist? The question is anachronistic, but the answer does seem to be that Matthew intends to highlight the fact that those who are discounted (and that certainly includes women) are frequently more in touch with God's doings than those who, in traditional terms, ought to know. Already the genealogy showed that and Matthew's passion narrative, unlike Mark's, does have the women faithful throughout in contrast to the male disciples. The major focus is Jesus' words. 'All authority has been given to me'. Almost certainly this is a reference to the significance of his resurrection rather than to something which happened before his coming in his pre-existent state (which Matthew appears not to espouse) or the equipping for his ministry. The matter is slightly complicated by the use of the Q saying in 11:27, where Jesus declares that the Father had given all into his hands. There it must mean authorisation for his ministry. Here in 28:18 the 'all authority in heaven and on earth' refers not to authorisation for his earthly ministry but to authorisation in relation to all nations. 'All authority' and 'all nations' belong together. It is universal in scope and includes both heaven and earth. It is Matthew's version of what we find elsewhere as Jesus' exaltation to God's right hand at his resurrection, his enthronement, his being crowned Lord and given the all holy name of God. The name which is above every name in Philippians 2:6-11 is Yahweh's name. To bear Yahweh's name is to become a second Yahweh, to be God's vice regent. There were rich and various traditions which expressed this kind of relation. Commonly they derive from coronation rituals, where the king or emperor assumed the status of a god, bore a god's name or, as in Israel, was adopted as God's son. Hence we find the coronation oracle of Israel's king, preserved in Psalm 2:7, applied by earliest Christians to Jesus at his resurrection; 'You are my Son; today I have begotten you,' a formula of adoption (Acts 13:33; Heb 1:4-6; see also Ps 89:27). Similarly the call to sit at God's right hand, found in Ps 110:1, became a standard description of the meaning of Easter and is echoed in the creed. The language of 28:18 appears also to echo Daniel 7:13 where the Ancient of Days gives the kingdom to 'one like a son of man'. That passage and the title Son of Man is a favourite in Matthew. Links between Jesus as Son of Man and his exaltation and glorification become a feature in John's gospel. Alongside the court imagery, but often connected with it in Judaism, was the notion that the heavenly vice regent was God's wisdom or logos, so that Christians versed in such speculation would come to claim that Jesus has assumed that role, indeed, has become that one. From there it was not a major step to claim that he had always been so. These connections were made easy because some circles in Judaism portrayed wisdom or logos as God's child, first as a woman (close to being God's spouse), or a daughter, later as a son, and frequently linked with regal imagery (see Proverbs 8; Sirach 24; Wisdom 7; Hebrews 1:2-6). The same figure was thought to have been with God from eternity. How can God ever have been without wisdom! The merging of personification and myth in this stream of thought was a rich source for speculation about Jesus. Exalted to become God's deputy, he was, to those familiar with the wisdom-logos speculation, also in one sense returning to where he had always been: one with God from the beginning. In the New Testament this reaches its finest expression in the gospel of John and in Hebrews (see also Col 1:15-20). The doctrine of the Trinity attempts to trace these tangled threads without losing any one of them. The problem it addresses or, perhaps, better, holds in solution, was, in a sense, already present in Judaism as the image of wisdom came to be treated as a angel-like being in itself. Matthew does not go so far. Like Q before it, Matthew certainly linked Jesus with God's wisdom, so that he has Jesus speak as God's wisdom (11:16-19), but we do not find the further developments which speak of a pre-existent Son. The Son is created by the miraculous conception in Matthew. 28:18 is, therefore, Matthew's version of the affirmation of Jesus' enthronement at God's right hand. What does it mean to say, 'Jesus is Lord'? What new order is thus constituted? Clearly the notion of authorisation is central. God authorised Jesus; therefore Jesus spoke with God's authority. The notion of Jesus as God's representative develops in some Christian circles into a full blown understanding of Jesus as God's apostle or envoy, as in John (earlier: Paul in Gal 4:4; Rom 8:3). Like the agent in Judaism, the 'shaliach', Jesus speaks and acts for God. In Matthew this is true without the wider speculation. Jesus is authorised and here Jesus authorises. Authorised for what and authorising for what? This is the crucial question. The temptation narrative ended with the offer of one kind of authority which Jesus rejected (4:8-10). What the devil offered there we now hear has been given, but it is different in kind. Its real substance is defined both by what follows and by the totality of what precedes. In other words, in Matthew's account of Jesus' ministry we see what he was authorised to do and in the commission we see what he now authorises others to do: 'teaching them to observe all that I commanded you.' The two correspond, just as earlier Matthew could use the same summary to describe the preaching of John the Baptist (3:2), Jesus (4:17) and the disciples (10:7). It meshes together: the disciples are sent to teach what Jesus had taught them - all of it! That is their authorisation, their commission. Teaching is so important in Matthew. It is not that he means teaching beliefs, but teaching about God's will, how to live in accordance with God's will, how to develop the righteousness which characterises the kingdom of heaven. And what is the teaching? Read the story! Hear the message of compassion, the challenge of judgement and accountability and observe the lowly servant. To that the disciples are authorised and authorised to authorise others. That is the church's agenda. Were we not so familiar with it, mention of baptism might have struck us as unexpected. For Matthew's hearers it would recall Jesus' baptism and the Spirit which receives little mention but is the driving force of Jesus' ministry and the power by which he takes on the demonic world (12:28). 'The name of' is authority language again. While the so called trinitarian formula, 'in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,' sounds like a lift from our liturgy and may be from Matthew's, each part makes perfect sense in the Matthean frame of reference. The Father is the ultimate source of authority. The Son receives and passes on that authority. The Spirit enables it all to happen and is received in baptism. The final promise of Jesus' abiding presence reminds many of Matthew's use of Isa 7:14 in the birth narratives, in which he identifies Jesus as the child to be called Emmanuel, 'God with us.' The match is not precise, because that refers to God's action through Jesus' work, whereas here we read of Jesus' own presence with his disciples. The link makes better sense when we recognise that what Matthew is saying of Jesus here was said of God's Shekinah, God's presence or glory, like wisdom, which was sometimes thought of as having an existence of its own and yet, like the persons in the Trinity, was also part of God. Matthew had echoed the image already in 18:20, where Jesus promises his presence among the two or three gathered in his name to interpret God's will. The Jewish Mishnah makes the same promise about Shekinah for those studying Torah. Judaism's incipient trinitarianism contributes to Matthew's store of images for connecting Jesus to God and for connecting us to Jesus and so to God. This good news is worth sharing with all people (hardly all nations except Israel, as some have suggested). It is worth sharing not because we are obsessed with having everybody do things our way or because God has such an obsession, although at times one might think so in the light of some statements and practices of mission. Rather the compassionate and loving God is God and sets no limits to that love and will not collude with falsity and sin. The range is as broad as the passion is deep. Epistle: Trinity: 18 May 2 Corinthians 13:11-13 PentecostWilliam Loader Pentecost: 11 May John 20:19-23 ‘Pentecost’ is the anglicised form of the Greek word for 50th and refers to the 50th day after Passover. Pentecost is the Jewish festival called, ‘The feast of Weeks’, originally marking the end of the grain harvest. It also acquired links with the giving the Law on Sinai. It is a very appropriate time to celebrate the Spirit’s coming to the early church. Luke has given a symbolic structure to the first weeks after Easter. The risen Jesus makes special appearances for 40 days after which he ascended. The Spirit comes on the 50th day: Pentecost. 40 is a special figure linked with preparation (Israel was 40 years in the wilderness; Jesus was tempted 40 days in the wilderness). Luke is using the symbolism of numbers. He even has 120 people gathered in the upper room in Acts 1:15 (10 x 12!). Luke’s hearers would have appreciated the symbolism. The message is clear. We are to see the God of the Old Testament at work again. The coming of the Spirit is about harvest! It is likely that Luke could create such a wonderful symbol with the numbers because he knew of a significant event which happened at the Pentecost festival. It is now retold in a way which echoes Jewish stories about Sinai according to which a flame came down from heaven, split into various tongues of fire, one for each of the nations of the world, but only Israel listened to the words. Luke’s symbolic narrative won the day and we now celebrate the coming of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost, 50 days after Good Friday. Luke’s was not the only stream of storytelling about the Spirit. No other New Testament writer speaks of Pentecost in this way. Even Luke, himself, indicates that the scheme is a secondary structure, because he cannot hide the fact that the risen Lord also appeared to Paul - outside the 40 days! People thought about the resurrection, ascension and the coming of the Spirit in different ways. Usually they are very closely related. In most writers ‘ascension’ meant going up to be enthroned at God’s right hand and most saw that as happening at Jesus’ resurrection. John’s gospel pictures Jesus ascending on the day of his resurrection (after meeting Mary! 20:17) but before he appears as the risen (ascended one) to his disciples (20:19-23). On that same day of the resurrection Jesus appears to his disciples and gives them the Spirit (19:22). What Luke describes as happening over 50 days John portrays as happening all on the same day! What really happened may be somewhere in between Luke and John, but it is likely to be closer to John’s account than to Luke’s. More important, however, than trying to work out what happened when, is the importance of what is being described and celebrated. John helps us to link resurrection and Pentecost in one single scene. ‘Peace’(Shalom) may be just, ‘Hello!’, but it probably includes much more than a greeting. It is the greeting that makes all the difference to them - and us! Its importance comes through what follows: having said, ‘Peace’, Jesus shows them his hands and side. This is not because they would not otherwise recognise him. Rather it is as the one who suffered that he presents himself. It is like saying: ‘Please don’t think I have left all that behind!’ From a broader perspective we might say that it reminds us that the resurrection is not about turning away from the life poured out in compassion to something else like reward, power and glory, but an assertion that this way of love and brokenness is the way, the truth and the life which leads us to God and reveals what God is also like. The simple joy (and relief!) of the apostles hides something much deeper: the cross wasn’t a disaster, a symbol of hopelessness. At our deepest levels we make decisions about hopefulness and hopelessness. The killing of compassion, violence against the good, unrelenting suffering and oppression is devastating. Much of the time we pretend it is non existent or busy ourselves so as not to face its reality. If we allow ourselves to be confronted by the disaster of the cross and many cross-like experiences facing us in the world, we are thrown into the dilemma about hope: is there any? This story’s simple narrative of joy is an assertion of hope. That hope believes defiantly in the possibility of peace. Jesus’ second statement of peace is probably therefore also much more than, ‘Hello!’! The meeting of hope and peace in the risen broken body is not about winning or triumph, as if it meant: ‘They thought they had won; but he won after all! Let’s join the winning side and reap the benefits!’ With an amazing consistency Jesus’ resurrection appearances end up being commissions (Paul’s is the best known example!). The life which meets us in brokenness meets us to engage us in itself! That means engagement is the same compassion and poured out love. In John that is simply put: ‘As my Father sent me, I send you’. As Christ was the bearer of light and life and truth, so we are to be the bearers of light and life and truth. This must not be reduced to a programme, a mission statement to be obeyed, a strategy to be worked at, as if the focus now is task oriented activity alone. We will run out of steam! Or, all too easily, we will become frustrated or legalistic, with ourselves and with others. Instead, the one who invites our engagement in life acts creatively, recalling the wonderful account in Genesis of God breathing on shapes of clay to bring them to human life (Gen 2:7). The word for Spirit also means ‘breath’, so the symbolism is rich and evocative. This is John’s portrait of ‘Pentecost’. Engaging God’s life in compassion goes hand in hand with engaging God’s life in receiving compassion. The disciples are to live from this life - not just tell others about it. This is the promise of which Jesus had spoken so many times in his final address to the disciples (eg. 14:12-17,28;15:26;16:5-15). Verse 23 goes one step further. It authorises the disciples to create an ordered community which faces up to itself, dealing with its own sin. John appears to be drawing on a tradition about church discipline at this point. It grounds flights of idealism which want to take off at the sound of the word, Spirit, bringing them back to accountability. We know that this was a struggle for many congregations, Corinth being the best example, but the problem was widespread (see, for instance, Matt 7:21-23). Perhaps John is addressing it when he consistently undermines faith which depends solely on sensational miracles and tells such people they must be born again (2:23-25; 3;1-5). The effectiveness of Christian community has a lot to do with the success with which it has learned to keep verses 22 and 23 together in a context of compassion. 13:34-35 remind us that community is inseparable from Christ’s mission. This also belongs to the message of 20:19-23. Epistle:
Pentecost: 11
May 1 Corinthians 12:3b-13
Easter 7William Loader Easter 7: 4 May John 17:1-11 Like Jesus’ final words to his disciples, so also this account of his final prayer has to be understood against the background of common patterns of ‘biography’ of the time. For further detail on this see the comments for Easter 5. The main point is that it was customary in portraying someone’s life to seek to crystallise the essence of their message for future generations in the accounts of their last words and sometimes their final prayer. It is not that there was such a prayer which Jesus spoke in this distinctively Johannine way of which the rest of the tradition, reflected in the other gospels, had no knowledge. Rather in John’s story of Jesus’ life and importance he has creatively imagined what Jesus might have said and what would have been the issues for him in this final prayer. At the same time, as elsewhere in the gospel, John will have drawn upon the older traditions known to him, many of them reaching back to Jesus, and been inspired by them. Many find in John 17 influence from the Lord’s Prayer. It has also been described as the ‘high priestly prayer’ of Jesus, a designation inspired by the portrait of Jesus in Hebrews and by the imagery of 17:19. While not a minuted prayer from the upper room in 30 AD, the prayer (like so much of John’s gospel) is an inspired and inspiring account of who Jesus is and what he has done which belongs to the treasury of faith. It is not a private prayer, but one written to be heard and reflected upon. Following the model of the envoy commissioned for a task Jesus is making a report to the commissioner. The commission is variously described as glorifying the Father on earth (4), making God’s name known (6), and passing on God’s words (8). The commissioning is variously described as being given authority (2), being sent (3), being given work to do and bring to completion (4), being given what is the Father’s to pass it on (7-8), coming from and (again) being sent from the Father (8). The goal of the commission is variously described as the passing on of eternal life (2), thus enabling people to know God and Jesus Christ (3), to keep the word (6), to receive the words (8), to know and believe what the Son claims about his commission (8), to glorify the Son (10) and to become one (11). All that! - in the space of 11 verses. But there is more. As the Father’s envoy Jesus not only reports that he has finished the task (4), but also requests reinstatement to his former status. That is, he asks that he may be glorified (1). This means: being brought back to the glory of the Father’s presence, which is where he started (5). The ‘hour’ (1) has in mind the events about to be unfolded in Jesus’ betrayal, arrest, trial and crucifixion. People will read those events as a hopeless failure. But people of faith will see that while at one level Jesus will be lifted up onto a cross, at another level he will be lifted up to glory. For John all these events come together as one, so that we are not to think of death without resurrection, exaltation, glorification, and ascension. It enables John to engage in much of irony: lifting up the Son of Man, for instance, is wonderfully ambiguous. Many sayings of the gospel find their echoes in this reference to ‘the hour’ (13:31-32; 12:23, 31-33; 8:28; 6:62; 3:13-15; 2:5). What does all this mean? The imagery varies, like the instruments in an orchestral piece, but the same theme is being repeated throughout the gospel and its melody is clearly heard in this account of Jesus’ final prayer. The Son came to bring the offer of life. The life consists in being in a knowing relationship with God. The envoy model suggests the Son came to bring information, but in fact that, too, is imagery. What he brings is the offer of life in relationship. Hearing Jesus describe his own commission in this way helps us keep this focus. While John also knows and uses those traditions which place emphasis on Jesus’ death as a sacrifice for sins, that is not the dominant melody. The focus is the encounter with the Son already during his ministry which invited people into relationship with the Father. After his departure the Spirit through the disciples will take that offer of life to the whole world. In verse 9 the prayer moves from reporting that the job has been done to making a request. While in the logic of the prayer it is God who is to hear this, in the context of the gospel story being read it is the hearers who are to hear it. John is telling them/us that Jesus is worried about something: disunity and division. He prays that the disciples will be one. Later he will extend this concern to all future disciples. Unity is not a strategy of convenience and economy here nor just a strategy for marketing (although this thought is not entirely absent as 17:21 and 23 and13:34-35 show!). It is not a cleverly ambiguous ecumenical declaration which papers over differences. It is rather an extension of John’s understanding of what eternal life (or salvation) means. It is not about a place or a gift or a certificate of acquittal so much as about a relationship. That relationship is one of love, just like the relationship which exists between the Father and the Son (see 20-23 and 13:34-35). So it has to include such a relationship of love also among disciples; otherwise something is simply not being properly understood. If the focus in understanding salvation is not on this relationship, but, say, primarily on a place or a gift or a certificate of acquittal, then the horizontal dimension of mutual love is more likely to be the casualty, because the appeal there is too often just a variant of greed (getting something for me). Christianity has been plagued with the ‘thinging’ of eternal life and John’s gospel is an excellent antidote. John helps us avoid the commodification of the gospel and invites to an understanding of being good news by being community in which love is lived out. Jesus had needs. It is not about pretending we do not have them and that the gospel does not address them. Jesus states that he wants the closest relationship with God possible. That is what he is asking for. It is OK to ask for that. But that is not a commodity. It is a hope for communion. John’s gospel is also pointing us to that as our hope. It does have a future - generously Jesus wants nothing less than that we share the same hope which awaits him (17:24-26). It has a future because it has a present in which already here and now we share and delight in the life of God who is always taking initiatives of compassion. The greatest antidote to greed is to want only the reward of being one with the God whose being is self giving love. John’s gospel has a wonderful way of bringing it all together in focus and within the gospel John 17 does this especially. It can help us recognise what matters. Its distinctive model of christology helps make this possible, but also offers us a way of thinking of Jesus and his significance which works where John’s elaborate model is not assumed, such as in the earlier gospels and in the earliest traditions. Combined with their earthiness you can then see how what John is saying in abstract takes us into being a community of compassion which touches every area of life and challenges all systems and instances where it is absent. Epistle: Easter 7: 4 May 1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11
Easter 6William Loader Easter 6: 27 April John 14:15-21 This passage belongs closely together with last week’s, John 14:1-14. It forms another segment of Jesus’ last words to his disciples. See last week for why that is important and the role it plays in John compared with the other gospels. While the opening verse might be read as referring to a range of commandments given by Jesus, or even to the ten commandments and the way Jesus expounds some of them in the Sermon on the Mount and adds more, this is not the focus in John. Keeping Jesus’ commands also features in 14:21, which neatly rounds off our passage by bringing it back to the theme with which it started. It is also the theme in 14:23-24, which speaks of keeping Jesus’ ‘word’ or ‘words’. 15:10 returns to the theme of Jesus’ commands and 15:12 explains: ‘This is my command, that you love one another.’ It recalls the so-called ‘new commandment’ of 13:34, ‘that you love one another as I have loved you’. 15:10 even speaks of Jesus, in turn, keeping the Father’s commands. What does all this mean? A detailed set of moral commands? We look in vain in John’s gospel for such detail. Instead we have basically one command: to go as we have been sent, just as Jesus came as he was sent, and to make the Father known. It is about sharing a message of love for the world and that also entails being a community of love, which appears to have been a major theme at the time when the final drafts of the gospel were being prepared (see last week). This is not surprising, given that 1 John tells us that the community had subsequently split apart. Here in John 14 the focus is on doing the Father’s works, just as Jesus had done, and doing them in all the world (14:12). When the disciples love Christ and get on with the job, two important things will accompany them. John lists them in 14:16-17 and in 14:18-21. Jesus defines his own role in 14:16 as a ‘helper’ (parakletos). It is the word used for a support person, especially in court, and can also be translated ‘advocate’ or ‘counsel’ or ‘counsellor’. Mark 13:11 speaks of the Spirit playing this role when disciples are prosecuted. This idea has produced further reflection in John’s communities, which led to people identifying Jesus himself as having this role before God (as in 1 John 2:1; see also Romans 8:34 and Hebrews 7:25 for a similar idea). Here the focus is on the Spirit, as a second ‘paraclete’. The focus is less on help as disciples are arraigned before the courts and more on help to enable them to do their job. The legal language still shines through: they are to bear testimony to Jesus as witnesses (15:26). 16:5-15 even portrays the whole mission of the Spirit and the disciples as mounting a case to the world about the truth of Jesus and winning it. At the simplest level, in14:16-17 Jesus is saying: my departure is distressing you; but, take heart, I am sending the Spirit to help you to continue my work. The same point is acted out in 20:19-23, where Jesus declares: ‘As my Father sent me, so I send you’, breathes on them and gives them the Spirit. That sound like saying: I’m not going to be around; instead of me you will have the Spirit. But John immediately corrects such an impression in 14:18. Jesus is not going to abandon them. He will come to them. There are various possibilities here. He could be referring in 14:19 to the second coming and be indicating that he believes that that will happen ‘in just a little while’. Or he could be referring to the resurrection when Jesus will appear to his disciples (as he does in John 20-21). John clearly affirms both the second coming (as 14:3 shows) and the resurrection appearances. 14:21 shows, however, that he intends something more. Jesus will make himself known to the people engaged in his mission. At this point we have another confused disciple, Judas (see last week and 13:36; 14:5; 14:8), who asks the naive question (14:22) which produces further clarification (14:23-24). In this answer Jesus states that both he and the Father will come and take up residence in disciples engaged in mission. John is somewhat playfully reworking 14:2-3. Instead of ‘dwelling places’ with the Father in the beyond and of Jesus’ second coming, we now read of ‘dwelling places’ in people and the second coming of the Father and the Son into the lives of individuals. Like Paul, John understands the Spirit as bringing the presence of both the Father and the Son to the believer. Little wonder that later generations articulated a doctrine of the Trinity! While not abandoning traditional beliefs (for instance, in the second coming and judgement), John handles them in a way which relates them directly to the present. He can do this because the chief focus of his spirituality is not a place or a time, but a person and a set of relationships. The focus is not quantity, but quality. The focus is not bigger miracles or stricter commandments, but the expansion of the initiative of love which comes from God and seeks to fill the world. This is why John’s account of Jesus’ last words does not expound the Law, as do the patriarchs in their final instructions in the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs and as one might have expected in Matthew (see 28:18-20). It is also why for all John’s talk about the Spirit, the focus is not ecstasy or miracle, as one might expect in Luke and Acts, but presence. The focus is not mystical experiences. If mysticism applies at all to John, it is focused on relationship and resultant action, on communities of love which ‘speak for themselves’ (13:34-35). The passage is framed by human anxiety about the absence of Jesus and ultimately about the absence of God (14:1; 14:27). It does not deny the anxiety and distress, but offers a promise of presence and sense of meaning embedded in sharing God’s life and participating in God’s action in the world, recognisable by its ‘Jesus-shape’. John composed these parting words with more than the immediate disciples in mind. Do they not still make sense and help people make sense of their tradition? Epistle: Easter 6: 27 April 1 Peter 3:13-22
Easter 5William Loader Easter 5: 20 April John 14:1-14 This is one of those passages from Scripture which has established its credentials as holy by usage, quite apart from the authority it shares with its surrounding pages in the New Testament. It has comforted mourners at funerals, inspired billboards and car stickers asserting the Christian way, and it has raised expectations of success through prayer - at almost anything. It does not stand alone in its context, but forms part of Jesus’ parting words to his disciples which began in 13:31. There Jesus announced his return to the Father’s glory (his glorification) and went on in 13:32 to explain that he was going somewhere where the disciples could not follow him (at least, not for now). This is the beginning of confusion on the part of the disciples. Peter, missing the point, insists he will follow (13:36) and will even lay down his life to do so (13:37). Jesus knows what Peter does not: one day he, too, will be killed (21:18). But for now Peter will fail and deny belonging to Jesus. The conversation continues in chapter 14 where Jesus says more about his departure and the disciples take it in turn to ask rather naive questions, right through until the end of the chapter, where it seems at one stage an earlier draft of Jesus’ parting words ended (14:31), before it was supplemented with chapters 15-17 in the final drafts of the gospel. Why so many drafts? Why so many versions of Jesus’ parting words in the gospels? In Mark the major focus of Jesus’ final address to the disciples is about the fate of the Jerusalem temple and the disciples (Mark 13). Matthew is similar, but supplemented with warnings about the need for future disciples to be disciples of deed and not just word (Matt 24-25). Luke innovates by composing a final address which is given by Jesus at the last meal (22:21-38), as in John. For instance, he transfers some of the teaching he had found at an earlier point in Mark (10:41-45) across to this point (22:24-27). John’s gospel reveals even more creativity, but, as in Luke, John draws on traditional elements which had formed part of the early stories. These included the prediction of Peter’s denial (13:36-38) and the promise that the Spirit would come to the aid of disciples who were hauled before the courts (Mark 13:11). We can also recognise promises about answered prayer and promises that Jesus would come again. These are all now woven together in John’s version of the last discourse, in which John invites us to imagine Jesus’ parting statements. In the ancient world a person’s last words were always very special. Biographers would take great care to ensure they contained the most important things which future generations should learn. Deuteronomy, as Moses’ last words, fits this category, as do the Testaments of the 12 Patriarchs and many other such writings in the Jewish and Christian world. This is also why people have found in these chapters of John a rich treasury for their faith. The disciples were confused by what Jesus had been saying and troubled by the foreboding his words evoked (14:1; see also 14:27). The response of Jesus is wonderfully simple: believe in God! believe in me (14:1)! Belief, here, includes believing that Jesus claims to represent God, but it also means trust. The trust is in the person, but 14:2 offers information - quite a rare phenomenon in John. There’s a place for you! One wants to break out into the lyric from West Side Story. What a wonderful summary of the Christian gospel! There’s a place for you - in the heart of God, and that includes the realm of death. At this point John picks up the tradition about Jesus’ coming again to gather his own (14:3). In typically Johannine fashion, the speech will go to say that this coming also happens when he and the Father and the Spirit come to believers (14:18-24 - more about that next week). The focus is not details of a place but quality of a relationship, which includes that it lasts. So, despite Peter’s confusion earlier, it is true: they will follow him and be with him also beyond this life. Thomas’s confusion about how to get there (14:5) evokes the famous response: ‘I am the way’ (14:6) John is in no doubt: Jesus is the way. It is not claiming that Jesus points to the way, but that he, himself, is the way (and the truth and the life). This only makes sense if we see the focus on the relationship. The verses which follow make that clear (14:7 and 9-11). Jesus is not claiming any of this independently of God, but rather saying that they should ‘believe in God’ as they have seen God in Jesus. Philip’s confusion (14:8) helps move us further into what that means. Jesus’ response uses words of intimacy and trust (14:9-11). The challenge is to recognise God in Jesus, in his words and deeds. This is a fundamental Christian claim. For some it justifies an exclusive claim that denies that God is to be found anywhere else. For others it justifies the claim to find God wherever God is recognisable by such words and deeds, even where Christian claims are not made or not known. 14:12 makes the extraordinary claim that the disciples will outdo Jesus. I’m sure his PR advisers would have counselled otherwise! The focus is not bigger miracles, but bigger mission, because he will send them equipped with the Spirit to speak of God’s reality to people far beyond Galilee and Judea. Jesus sees his departure as making this explosion possible. So 14:12 must be read closely with what follows in 14:15-17. On commission (14:15), equipped by the Spirit (14:16-17), they will go out to do greater things. This is also the setting for the promise about answered prayer in 14:13-14. It is not a blank cheque for every whim, but a promise about help for the mission. John has been portraying Jesus’ last words to his disciples, but doing so with an eye to his hearers and future generations, including us! Their distress and confusion about Jesus’ fate becomes a paradigm for confusion and distress in our own experience. While John employs the individual disciples to enhance the drama, its message is simple and telling. Trust that God is the way Jesus told us and demonstrated to us. That means two things, especially as we now think canonically and include more of the story of Jesus from the other gospels: we can trust in the God of compassion in which there’s a place for us (even if we know nothing else!) and we can know that the meaning of life is to share that compassion in the world - there’s a place for all! We can join that compassion wherever we recognise its ‘Jesus shape’, acknowledging it as life and truth and the only way. Epistle: Easter 5: 20 April 1 Peter 2:2-10
Easter 4 William Loader Easter 4: 13 April John 10:1-10 The shepherd image is rich and traditional, even if it no longer forms part of everyday life for most people and reflects practices quite foreign to the sheep farming with which most are familiar. Like images of kings and queens, which have long since lost their relevance for most in contemporary society, even where monarchies survive, this is a persistent image. Images have their own life. The Latin translation, ‘pastor’, has tended to associate the shepherd image with ministry. Originally it was most common as a metaphor for rulers, as far back as the Pharaohs. It was a way of describing royal responsibilities which included caring for subjects, the flock. It was apt symbolism when David became the shepherd king and the model for messianic hope. These associations are swirling around in the background as we consider our passage. The sheep are unambiguously people who are to be cared for. That fact, in itself, represents a value implicit in the image. For us it might evoke Jesus’ parable about caring even for the one lost sheep (Luke 15:3-7), which Matthew then applies to care for members of the church who have fallen morally (18:12-14), an important value in a vengeful, unforgiving age. John’s Jesus is ambitious to make the whole world a flock for divine love, far beyond Israel (10:16; 3:16). These are the assumptions within which 10:1-6 focuses on leadership. When John reports in 10:6 that Jesus’ hearers did not know what the parable meant, John’s hearers are being challenged to get it and so are we. This was not too difficult with the image of call and response. Perhaps imagining a pen where many sheep perhaps from more than one flock are protected overnight, the hearer would know the common practice. Sheep belonging to a particular shepherd would follow that shepherd through the gate in the morning out into the new day. The parable may imply the instruction: make sure you listen to his voice! It might also be explaining why some sheep belong and why some do not, an assurance for those who belong that they are special and a comfort for the failure to attract others. The parable of the sower also came to serve that function. John’s gospel has a number of sayings which suggest a closed system according to which only those in the light respond to the light (eg. 3:19-21) and only those who are drawn may come (eg. 6:44). It is important to recognise their function and not to make them the basis for exclusive systems, because it is equally apparent that whoever hears and responds may come and will move from darkness to light. The paradox is promising. There is more, however, to the parable than urging response and explaining rejection. It is warning about rival claims to leadership. In the context of Jesus’ ministry which forms the primary setting for the gospel story those rivals are the other Jewish leaders with whom Jesus is in dispute. In the context of the gospel they are doubtless also other Jewish leaders who compete for the loyalty of John’s sheep. The dangers envisaged here may be a range of rivals from other Jewish leaders even to Christian Jewish leaders and, perhaps, non Jewish as well. If we read this from the world of 1 John we would recognise such leaders as those who disputed the writer’s teaching and had led their Christians out to a new Spirit-inspired understanding of Christ which elevated him above the flesh and blood which appeared to compromise his divinity (2:19; 4:1-6). It is difficult to discern how far these disputes already formed the background for the gospel, but it is clear here and in Jesus’ parting words and prayer (especially John 15-17), that disunity was a major threat. Certainly the image interprets Jesus’ conflicts with ‘the Jews’ at the feast, as 10:26-30 show. There the association of shepherd and ‘messiah-king’ is assumed (10:22-25). But like in most of John’s gospel, contemporary concerns are never far away. There is an ongoing tension between the will to include all and the need to explain rejection and console the flock who respond. The latter is quite dangerous and in some hands leads to hate and exclusivity (including antisemitism). Yet this is the gospel grounded in John 3:16 and a vision of unity, which ultimately wants to embrace all in compassion. What seems to many a romantic and gentle image is in fact a very theologically political statement. Words like ‘thief’, ‘brigand’, ‘fleeing’, ‘steal and slaughter and kill’, indicate the serious tenor of the statements. It is not ‘nice’. It invites us to look out for dangers in our own times and to recognise that they will sometimes present themselves as religiously plausible. Thinking critically about theology remains crucial to the leader/pastor/preacher’s task. The passage ends on a note to celebrate: the goal is ‘life, abundant life’ (10:10). This shorthand summary of the good news needs unpacking. It brings us back to the centre: God’s will and intent. For John that is rooted in God’s love. God’s being in love, in relationship, is the source and pattern for a vision which might include all in such unity. Globalised, it engages us in a vision which embraces diversity and difference, but has no place for exploitation and marginalisation. ‘Shepherd’ first scratched itself on stone as advice to rulers about social justice and care for the poor. It is therefore bigger than the Jerusalem disputes about Jesus and the tensions of first century Asia Minor. It is ultimately a way of engaging and being engaged by God and being called out into the day. Epistle: Easter 4: 13 April 1 Peter 2:19-25
Easter 3William Loader Easter 3: 6 April Luke 24:13-35 What a wonderful story! It celebrates Easter. It invites participation. It is in the best sense a faith legend. The risen Jesus appears and just as suddenly disappears. We are not in the realm of a literal understanding of resurrection which would have Jesus brought back to life (like Lazarus) and living a normal life. It is not that Jesus was hiding behind the bushes and slipped in behind and then beside these two disciples while they were walking with his face half veiled to avoid recognition. It was not that he slipped out the door later while they were not looking. Luke invites us to imagine something more mysterious: a materialising and dematerialising risen Jesus who makes appearances and then vanishes. This was consistent with how the early traditions understood Jesus’ resurrection - and ours. It is the same person, embodied, but now transformed or transfigured into a new way of being and being embodied. Paul speaks of it in 1 Corinthians 15 as being a spiritual body. Whatever actual experience may lie behind the story, it is now an invitation. It invites us to join the journey. A nice creative tension develops as they wander down the road. It arises because according to 24:1-12 the reports of the women had not convinced the disciples. So Luke’s congregations, hearing the story, know the resurrection has taken place. They (and we) comprehend a good deal more about what had happened than they did. We want to tell them - climb up on stage and whisper what we know or shout it! Already the story is inviting affirmation. Then Jesus comes on the scene. Luke probably intends us to imagine some divine control preventing recognition, rather than a ploy on the part of Jesus. This enhances the dramatic effect: their conversation prompts us even more to mount the stage. It is an interesting conversation for what it does, in fact, say. These disciples were hoping that Jesus would bring liberation for Israel. That hope took many forms, some military, some peaceful, but it underlies all of Luke’s story. It is already the theme of the songs of Mary and Zechariah in the birth narratives. The disciples will press the same question in Acts 1:6, "Is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?" Far from being a stupid question, there or here, it expresses what remains a central hope for Luke. Luke envisages a future which brings peace and liberation for Israel and all peoples: "Peace on earth!" "Good news for the poor" will become a reality. Luke has constructed the story so that we really do want to jump into the conversation, but he is also inviting us to listen to Jesus: the suffering of the Liberator was not tragic derailment of the hope, but part of it and meant to be. This is confusing to anyone believing in the military model. Luke invites us to think alternatively. By the time Jesus is about to leave them, we have rehearsed the resurrection story. The disciples repeat what we know from 24:1-12 and Jesus describes his journey through hardship to glory, a motto for human life which was widely revered at the time. But Luke’s Jesus will not stop there, but will come to achieve the goal of liberation, however that is imagined (Acts 1:11 imagines it as the reverse of the ascension, not unlike Paul in 1 Thess 4:16-17). The conversation might have been enough. I wonder if Luke’s people would have heard echoes of Jesus’ wanting to walk on past the boat on Galilee (Mark 6:48) or of its inspiration: Yahweh’s walking on past Moses on Sinai and revealing only a little? Traditional hospitality ethic prevails and Jesus joins them for a meal. We and Luke’s hearers know much more is at stake. Countless generations have seen in the breaking of the bread an allusion to their own eucharists - probably rightly so. If you were hearing the whole of Luke at one sitting, it would have been only five minutes or so earlier that you would have heard of the events of the last meal. I am sure the effect of Luke’s story for some would have been that they, too, would have acclaimed: Christ is with us, too, whenever we break bread - and rightly so. The surreality of the invisible man invites us beyond preoccupation with historical reconstruction to engagement with ourselves and Christ’s presence in our own communities. Luke’s Easter legend is pointing to an abiding reality and inviting us to the same journey and the same table. When Luke reports their realisation that their hearts were burning, he doubtless wants us to be able to affirm the same, both as we understand scripture and as we hear his story and gospel. His story needs his gospel for its setting; and the whole needs the hope for liberation as its context, without which it could just be like any other religious ‘high’ or warmed heart feeling and serve to distract us from the vision of change. The final paragraph of today’s passage brings our story back to where Luke knows it all began: "The Lord is risen indeed and has appeared to Simon" (24:34). Paul also knows very early tradition which lists Peter’s vision first (1 Cor 15:3-5). Mark appears to know Peter’s role similarly (16:7). If historical, the experience of the women at the tomb is earlier still and may be unlisted for reasons of male myopia. Myopia is not in dispute, but in this case the historicity is. More importantly Luke is connecting us back to the tradition and deliberately using a very old affirmation. He has been telling the Emmaus story to engage with this risen Christ. If we could not mount the stage and join the conversation, at least we can join the meal and share the hope for transformation which it embodies - and pours out. Epistle: Easter 3: 6 April 1 Peter 1:17-23
Easter 2William Loader Easter 2: 30 March John 20:19-31 A lot happened on resurrection day according to John. The opening scene of today's passage shares some similarity with Luke 24:36-43. There, too, Jesus appears before fearful disciples gathered behind closed doors and greets them with the words, 'Peace be with you!' In Luke's account the disciples fear they are seeing a ghost. Jesus proves his materiality, showing them his hands and feet, suggesting they feel him and then, to clinch the proof, eats a morsel of fish. It is hard to believe the writer of the fourth gospel is unaware of the story in some form. Our passage appears to be a creative extrapolation. Now the words of peace are repeated and followed by a very Johannine portrait of Jesus giving the Spirit and commissioning the disciples. The matter of proof has been attached to the figure Thomas who insists on materiality. This spawns, in turn, a further meeting a week later where his concerns are satisfied and he acclaims Jesus, Lord and God. In keeping with John's modification of the crucifixion scene, the elements of proof now include the wounded side. We probably have before us a very creative reworking of an old story. The power of the event and the experience in the life of the community spilled over into new ways of celebrating its meaning. Understood in this light the passage has much to say to faith. 'Peace', 'Shalom' is a standard greeting, but here it probably echoes the promise of peace given in 14:27, just as the events to follow recall the promise of the Spirit given in the same chapter. John's disciples are glad at Jesus' appearance, not afraid as in Luke. They become models for believers. The negative trait is attached to Thomas. The result is that the scene becomes a celebration of the Church, its constitution and its task. Jesus sends the disciples, just as he was sent. This is the premise for discipleship. It sets our agenda by directing us to what Jesus did, especially as he is portrayed in John. Jesus offered light and life and truth through relationship with himself, through relationship with God. Our role is also to offer light and life and truth through a relationship with God. This does not equate us and Jesus, but the task is the same. As he was God's representative, so his disciples are to be ambassadors, to use Paul's image from 2 Cor 5:20. Like the Jewish 'shaliach' (envoy) and in keeping with the major vehicle of communication before the days of telecommunication, the message bearer often needed to be able to act for and on the authority of the one who did the sending. It is authority to offer the relationship in which is life. Heard at a single sitting, the gospel would be recalling for people at this point the promises Jesus made to his disciples in John 14, even more impressive at the stage where the text was without chapters 15-17. Already Jesus' words to Mary (20:17) recall 14:1-4. Jesus is going to the Father. 'Peace' recalls the promise of peace in 14:27. The sending recalls the promise of mission in 14:12-15. Then the giving of the Spirit recalls the promise of the Spirit/Paraclete on 14:16. John has woven the great commission and Pentecost into a single scene. Breathing belongs to the image of the spirit which in biblical languages means wind and breath and spirit. John plays with the range of meanings already in 3:9 (the spirit/wind blows where it wants to..). Perhaps the image is evoking God's breathing upon human clay in the creation story. Here is a new beginning. The Spirit, the helper, will help the disciples lay the claim of Jesus before people. 16:8-11 explains how: the cross becomes a mirror in which to become convinced about sin (which is killed), goodness (which is vindicated) and judgement (because evil is disempowered). In 20:23 gives them the power and authority to give structure and discipline to the community. This is to be ministry and community with accountability. Thomas is not only a doubter; he is also a dubious figure. Some see him as a saint, once he reaches the point of acclaiming Jesus, Lord and God. I am more inclined to see typical ambiguity here, as with many other characters in John. They get it right, even though they are hardly exemplary (like Nathanael). John is not anti-miracle, but he is critical of the focus on the materiality of miracles and Thomas surely approaches that stance. Blessed are those who believe who did not need the proofs (20:29). Such miracles and proofs (affirmed by John in 20:30) only make sense if they lead to the real faith which consists in a relationship with God of which 20:31 speaks. An alternative view would see the author using the story to emphasise the materiality of Jesus over against those who saw both his earthly and resurrection existence as only apparently material and not really human flesh and blood. This is a concern at 19:34-35. Some see this as the agenda of only the final edition of the gospel when such ideas were beginning to develop. Maybe. Thomas then becomes a hero; he proves Jesus was real; but, if so, that is a secondary development. 20:31 returns to the central focus of the gospel of John and the Christian gospel as a whole: life! It defines salvation, the agenda of mission and its context. Ultimately John's celebrations in narrative of the Easter message point to life as its message. Before and after Easter it is still life. The change is that now there are new bearers of that life and the Spirit given without measure to Jesus (3:34) now operates without measure among the disciples and makes Jesus' presence real to them (14:22-26). Thomas needs to get there and until he does (if he does), he remains on one of the roads of religious distraction which robs him and others of life but keeps them very busy, saying even the right things. Epistle: Easter 2: 30 March 1 Peter 1:3-9
William Loader Easter Day: 23 March Matthew 28:1-10 This Easter Sunday we can choose to run with Matthew or with John 20:1-18. Matthew's account of the discovery of the tomb is clearly a reworking of Mark's brief account in 16:1-8, but with significant modifications. In both, the centre point is that Christ has been raised. Mark's account ends with the enigmatic comment that the women said nothing for fear and at a surface level one is left wondering how on earth the movement progressed from there, unless the hint of the appearance to Peter is the wink which sets it all in perspective. Mark seems concerned to show human failure, now even by the women, who had not fled like the male disciples and whose actions, first the anointing of Jesus' head, then the anointing of his body for burial, embraced the passion account with faithfulness. Now that the women have failed, too, only a divine miracle will save the movement! And it did. It may be that Matthew realises the somewhat maverick nature of Mark's account which is constructed to serve his educational purpose. It is unlikely that Matthew knew of the resurrection only through Mark's account. Matthew appears also to have known of women's direct involvement in the Easter appearances (as did John's gospel - see John 20) and is not prepared to sacrifice it by following Mark's agenda or by shifting the focus to the first male witness. Matthew comes closer than does Mark to describing the raising itself, but stops a little short. He reports an earthquake. This Dickensian trait also appears in Matthew's account of Jesus' death. There tombs are reported to have split open and apparitions occurred (27:51-53). Such images normally describe the events with which history will come to a climax: the great resurrection and the day of judgement. By portraying Jesus' death and resurrection in such colours Matthew is saying that something of ultimate importance is taking place. In Matthew's religious imagination the tomb could be open only because of an earthquake and it must have been the work of an angel who in the process rolled away the stone. The fact that he then sat atop it with an appearance like lightning and garments as white as snow, whereas Mark has a young man in glistening attire sitting in the tomb, would have bothered neither Matthew nor his hearers. For the truth being told demanded such licence and each did his best to colour its significance using the narrative decor of the period. Matthew's is all the more dramatic because he had reported the posting of guards who would have prevented any theft (an answer to one theory) and who are rendered lifeless by the occasion (a nice touch of reversal of roles). The words of the angel largely match those spoken by the young man in Mark and form the centre piece of the story; 'You are looking for Jesus who was crucified; he is not here; he is risen, as he said.' Matthew adds 'as he said' to remind the hearers of Jesus' own predictions. The instructions to tell the disciples he was risen and that they should go to Galilee where he was going ahead of them also largely match what we find in Mark, except that Peter is not singled out for special mention as in Mark. This feature, Peter's prominence as a witness, reflects the primary importance of such an appearance in the genesis of resurrection faith. For Paul's tradition also lists Peter as the first witness (1 Cor 15:3-5) and Luke also knows of Simon's unique experience (Luke 24:34). Matthew is not intent on making that the primary vision; instead he has Jesus appear first to these women and has Jesus, himself, repeat the instructions. This definitely puts the disciples in second place and reinforces the truth of what the women heard, for they had now heard it twice. Twofold testimony was recognised as irrefutable for those who followed biblical law (Deut 19:15). In addition the women have not failed as in Mark. They have not fled in fear saying nothing, but have departed quickly in fear and great joy to do what they were told. Their reward is a personal appearance of the risen Jesus before whom they worship as later the disciples would do in Galilee (28:16-17). Preaching on the resurrection raises a huge number of issues, whatever story we follow. The assumption is clearly a raising which left no corpse behind, but not a resuscitation such as with Lazarus in John 11. This is clearer in Paul and Luke than in Matthew but should also be assumed here. People would have understood it to be the type of body which others, too, would have at the general resurrection. Paul calls it a 'spiritual body' (1 Cor 15). Daniel spoke of shining like stars in the firmament (Dan 12). The transfiguration and the appearance of the angel also indicate the nature of the transformed state. This equivalence (between Jesus' resurrection embodiment and general resurrection embodiment) can also be useful today when we attempt to say what we mean by resurrection - his and ours. The event means vindication of Jesus by God and so puts the focus in that sense back onto what Jesus said and taught (especially in Matthew; see 28:19). We should not see the event as proving resurrection as a belief, since that would have been widespread. It was more that this Jesus had been raised, had been raised first of all, and, as follows later in the chapter, has a role to exercise and a commission to give. That commission, in turn, directs attention to the ministry and teaching of Jesus as the good news. Resurrection is not a departure from God's way with us as demonstrated during the ministry of Jesus, as if that had been an exceptional episode and not characteristic of God, but an affirmation that this is the way God was and is. Resurrection does, of course, entail reversal, but we need to guard against too much being reversed as if God (and Christ) have now reversed out of lowliness and compassion and as if now what matters now is to glorify the might and power of the divine. The one who meets us is, as we read in John and Luke, the one who carries in his being the marks of his passion and the being and becoming to go with it. Gospel Alternative:
Easter
Day: 23 March John 20:1-18
|
