Sensitivity to “the Jews” as we celebrate Easter (for Holy Week)

As we draw near to the annual celebration of Easter, we find that we have a story that is driven by antagonism and conflict, with scenes of aggression and violence. We need to think carefully about how we tell the story found in the Gospels, and reflect prayerfully about how we preach the good news from these narratives.

We know the main characters in the story: Jesus and his followers, and the key authority figures of his day, lined up against him: the Jewish Sanhedrin; Pontius Pilate, the Roman Governor of Judea; and Herod Antipas, tetrarch of Galilee and Perea.

The way that the story unfolds, invites those who hear it—and those who preach on it—to make one party into “the villain”, even as others in the story receive (implicit) excusing. We side with Jesus, and that makes us view the other characters as “the baddies”.

So the danger sits before us, at Easter most especially: we might be tempted to target “the Jews”, to make negative or derogatory comments about Judaism and Jewish people, even (although I would hope not) to blame “the Jews” for the death of the Messiah. How close does this come to anti-Judaism, or even antisemitism?

We can be helped in our task by careful reflection on the nature of the texts, which we read, hear, explain, and reflect on, as we approach Easter, and especially as we move through Holy Week, from Passion Sunday to Good Friday.

Of the three key characters—the Jewish Sanhedrin, the Governor Pilate, and the tetrarch Herod Antipas—Herod has a somewhat tangential role: he appears only in Luke’s story (Luke 23:6-12) and simply rubber-stamps the decision of Pilate. Despite what Luke claims, there is no historical evidence that provides any reason why Jesus had to be presented to Herod, so the historicity of this scene is highly dubious.

‘Christ before Pilate’, by Hungarian painter Mihály Munkácsy (1881)

The Roman Governor, Pontus Pilate, is given a very big “exemption pass” in the Gospel narratives. In the earliest account, he questions the crowd as to whether he should sentence Jesus (Mark 15:5, 14). The same question is noted in Matt 27:23. By the time of Luke’s Gospel, there is a clear threefold affirmation of the innocence of Jesus (Luke 23:4, 13-16, 22).

By the fourth Gospel, the scene where Jesus is brought to Pilate is changed from a trial to a philosophical discussion (John 18:29-31, 38). In Mark’s account, Pilate (quite uncharacteristically) backs down in the face of a baying crowd (Mark 15:6-15, and parallels). In Matthew’s account, Pilate enacts the potent symbol of washing his hands of the whole affair (Matt 27:24).

The Jewish Sanhedrin, by contrast, is placed firmly in the firing line. All four Gospels tell the story in the same way: the central factor that leads to Jesus being condemned to death is the decision of the Jewish Sanhedrin (Mark 14:63-64, and parallels), and their agitation amongst the crowd (Mark 15:11; Matt 27:20; Luke 23:13-16; John 18:38b-40).

Jesus about to be struck in front of former High Priest Annas
(Madrazo, 1803)

Matthew intensifies this by reporting that “the people as a whole answered, ‘His blood be on us and on our children!’“ (Matt 27:25). John’s Gospel reports that “the Jews cried out, ‘If you release this man, you are no friend of the emperor. Everyone who claims to be a king sets himself against the emperor.’” (John 19:12), reinforced by the later statement by the chief priests, “we have no king but the emperor” (John 19:15).

This telling of the story is, in my view, a rhetorical strategy which is employed by all four evangelists. It may well have been a common stance across the early church. The central problematic for the earliest followers of Jesus must have been that their leader, Jesus of Nazareth, was crucified by the Romans, who held great power at the time.

Crucifixion was a Roman punishment, and Jesus was crucified as a political rebel, on the basis of the notion that he was claiming to be “King of the Jews”. The phrase recurs as a regular refrain throughout all four accounts of the crucifixion (Mark 15:2,9,12,18,26; Matt 27:11,28–29,37,42; Luke 23:2–3,37-38; John 18:33,37,39; 19:3,12,14,15,19–22).

To identify as a follower of Jesus would be to stand in solidarity with him as a rebel, an unwanted criminal who was rightly (in Roman eyes) punished with death. That would be a very dangerous (and foolish!) place to want to stand. So a different strategy was required.

At the same time as the early church was considering how to continue living without being seen as a rebellious movement in the Roman Empire, a slow and growing struggle for this movement was taking place—initially, in just a few places, then spreading to many other places. The struggle was with the leadership of the local synagogue.

The Pharisees, in the decades after the destruction of the Temple in 70 CE, had been gaining a dominant position amongst Jews of the time. The tensions between the followers of Jesus and the Pharisees grew and developed over time. The way the Gospels report on the interactions between Jesus and the Pharisees reflects the intensification of this relationship.

So, the Pharisees placed demands on the followers of Jesus, especially when made claims that Jesus was the Messiah. The earliest followers were all Jews, and they remained the dominant group in the movement for some decades. The followers of Jesus became increasingly discontented with their lives in the Jewish community, under the rule of the Pharisees. Accusations grew; tensions increased; conflict burst out into the open.

So, in retelling the story of how Jesus met his end, the followers of Jesus began, not only to downplay the role played by the Roman Governor (a very practical strategy, to be sure!), but also to increase the culpability of the Jewish authorities. And so grew the narrative of the last days, the arrest, trial, and sentencing of Jesus, that we are familiar with from the Gospels in the Bible.

The trap we must avoid, then, is this: do not read the Gospel narratives as straightforward, unadorned historical narratives. Do not accept “at face value” all that is recorded in those chapters. Apply careful, reasoned criticism as you approach the text. Consider the narrative of the passion, not only in its literary context, but in the context of the religious, social and political streams that were swirling in the later first century.

And invite those who reflect with you, or listen to your words, or read the stories in the text, to do the same—not to blame “the Jews” for what happened to Jesus; but rather, to consider how the story may well have been shaped, over the decades, in the face of the pressures and stresses of life for the early followers of Jesus, in the Roman Empire, with growing antagonism from (and towards) the Jewish authorities.

This is certainly quite consistent with the policy adopted by the Uniting Church National Assembly in 2009, which declares that “The Uniting Church acknowledges with repentance a history of interpretation of New Testament texts which has often failed to appreciate the context from which these texts emerged, viz. the growing separation of Christianity and Judaism with attendant bitterness and antagonism, resulting in deeply rooted anti-Jewish misunderstandings” (para. 9).

The Statement on Jews and Judaism also affirms that “The Uniting Church does not accept Christian teaching that is derogatory towards Jews and Judaism” (para. 16). We need to hold to this in what we preach at Easter.

See https://assembly.uca.org.au/resources/key-papers-reports/item/download/1022_7d707d6a8cd8a2fe2188af65d6f0454

See also https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/25/the-passover-seder-a-jewish-religious-festival-which-christians-should-not-appropriate-at-easter/

Amy Jill Levine has produced a helpful guide to the ways we might deal,with these texts, noting what is helpful and what is not helpful in the various approaches; see https://www.abc.net.au/religion/holy-week-and-the-hatred-of-the-jews/

For other blogs which canvass aspects of what is explored above, see

https://johntsquires.com/2019/04/18/easter-in-christian-tradition-and-its-relation-to-jewish-tradition/

https://johntsquires.com/2021/03/03/raise-up-a-new-temple-jesus-and-the-jews-in-the-fourth-gospel-john-2-lent-3/

https://johntsquires.com/2020/08/04/a-deeper-understanding-of-god-through-dialogue-with-the-other-romans-10/

The tongue of a teacher, to sustain the weary (Isaiah 50; Lent 6C)

“The Lord God has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word” (Isa 50:4). So begins this Sunday’s Hebrew Scripture selection that is offered by the lectionary—yet another passage from the section of Isaiah which is set in the period when Israel was in exile in Babylon. We have read other passages from this section of Isaiah on Lent 3 and Lent 5.

In considering those passages (Isa 43 and Isa 55), we noted that the experience of exile was experienced as a time of great difficulty for the people of Israel. The hope for a return to the land of Israel was strong and insistent throughout those years of exile. The imagery in the verses immediately before this passage (50:2–3) clearly convey this bitter sense. Hope is waning amongst the people. There is a need for strong leadership.

In this section of the text, the anonymous prophet speaks of an unnamed figure who will take on this function. He is known as the Servant (50:10).

In this song, the Servant specifically identifies himself as a Teacher, to encourage the weary and offer them hope (50:4). The Teacher is resolute, determined, fully committed. Yet he encounters opposition, resistance, aggression. He is called to stand up for what is right in the face of opposition (50:8) as well as to endure the negativity and abuse from those opponents (50:6). The call he has received is not an easy task. It requires resilience, being able to see the long view in the midst of immediate setbacks. The Servant, says the prophet, has “set my face like flint” (50:7).

The use of the term Servant at 50:10 (as well as at 42:1; 49:3, 5, 6; 52:13; 53:11) means that this passage is one of four songs known collectively as The Servant Songs (42:1–9; 49:1–7; 50:4–11; and 52:13–53:12). The identification of the Servant is contested. Do the songs refer to an individual? Or is the term intended to refer to the collective experience of Israel, as a nation? Certainly the hardships and oppression of life under various empires—Egyptian, Assyrian, and Babylonian—would attest to this latter identification.

Another aspect which points to a collective understanding (the whole nation as the Servant of the Lord) is the occurrence of the imagery of light. Israel as “a light to the nations” (42:6; 49:6) reflects a national understanding, developing and extending the earlier sense that nations would come to Zion to worship God (Isa 2:2–4; Mic 4:1–4).

Both of these elements feed into the later Christian interpretation that these song provide a prefiguring of the person of Jesus, “the servant of the Lord” (Acts 3:13, 4:27). The way that Jesus was treated in his trials and on the cross resemble the mistreatment of the Servant—and worse. The insistent description of suffering in 52:13–53:12 particularly correlates with the sufferings of Jesus in his passion (Acts 8:32–33; 1 Peter 2:21–25).

And the universal extent of the “light to the nations” image is also deliberately applied to the way the message about Jesus spread across the world (Luke 2:29–32; Acts 13:47; 26:23). In Christian interpretation, the songs of the Servant are usually taken to provide a pointer to the fate of Jesus—dedicated to God, committed to his calling, speaking forth with passion, enduring opposition, being utterly humiliated and thoroughly abused, and dying an abject death. Yet the power of the figure of the Servant was such that—for Israel, and for followers of Jesus—the message and example of the Servant (be that Israel, or Jesus) lived on for centuries.

See also

Belonging, first and foremost: the message of “the alien” (Deut 26; Lent 1C)
Cutting the covenant (Gen 15; Lent 2C)

Listen carefully to me, eat what is good (Isa 55; Lent 3C)
Gilgal: place of transition (Josh 5:9–12; Lent 4C)
A new thing, springing forth (Isaiah 43; Lent 5C)

A community of prayer; a community of care; a community to share

“Oh, no—not another ZOOM meeting!” How often have you heard this lament? I confess, it has been uttered with some frequency in my household, over the last two years—with increasing frequency in the past 6–8 months!

Committee meetings. Worship services. Catch-ups over coffee. Bible study groups. Seminars. Why, even full conferences have been held online, by means of ZOOM. ZOOM meetings of Presbytery. ZOOM meetings of Church Council. Even the state-wide 2021 Synod was held online (although on a different platform from ZOOM).

Early on in the pandemic, the Synod organised for all Congregations to have a ZOOM account at a reduced rate, especially for church organisations. It meant that we were able to maintain connections with friends, family, people in our Congregation, people across the Presbytery, despite all the restrictions and lockdowns. There have been lots of online gatherings. People have been grateful for the continuation of connection that online gatherings have provided. And yet, people are getting weary of it. “Not another ZOOM meeting!”

However, there has been one opportunity for meeting online that has a different feel about it. It has only recently started. It has just begun to gain momentum in the past few weeks. At the beginning of Lent, opportunity was provided for people to gather, briefly, online, at the start of each day, and towards the end of the afternoon, for Daily Prayers. The offer was for something that lasted 8–10 minutes, a regular pattern of prayer, each weekday. It was an initiative of Elizabeth Raine, minister of the Tuggeranong Congregation, and was advertised across the Presbytery as well as on the TUC Facebook page.

Over five weeks, now, the online community has been meeting. There are about 20 people who participate—although, in true church style, “you never see them all together at the one time”, just like most Sunday morning worshipping communities! Over the weeks, the community of prayer has formed; the pattern and routine are becoming familiar. Each time, there are 8, 10, sometimes 12 or 13 people online. It changes each time.

The centering of heart and spirit for the day is now an expected part of each weekday morning. The slowing and gathering together at the end of the day is also a regular routine. And the invitation to reflect back on the past seven days, on Friday at 6pm, brings a sense of completion to the week. Each day the resources of the Northumbria Community (a dispersed monastic community) are used, providing reflective prayers, short scripture passages, and an opportunity to reflect in silence and then with gentle music.

But more than this has been taking place. The community of prayer has become a community of care. Some folks log in a few minutes early, chat with each other, share their news, and exchange plans for the day. More recently, one person reported that their partner was moving into palliative care. Those present, hearing this news, have ensured that this person and their partner are remembered in prayer; one participant has ensured that practical help and support is provided. Those gathering make gentle enquiries before prayers begin. The community of prayer has become a community of care.

And even more: the community of prayer, now a community of care, has become a community to share with still more people. Those participating are largely members of the Tuggeranong Congregation. A few people from elsewhere participate in the weekly online Bible Study of the Tuggeranong Congregation; some folks from elsewhere in Canberra, someone 300kms north, another person 250kms west, are joining in regularly for prayer.

Facebook advertising has drawn the group to the attention of a person in a large rural town; they are now “part of the group”, participating regularly. A welcome voice, an assurance of gratitude that they have joined, a clear expression that “we are glad you are here; you belong!” is all that it takes. The community is there, to share with others.

This is how the Church is meant to function! An open community, focussed around our spiritual needs; an invitational community, welcoming people in and actively ensuring that they are made to feel comfortable, valued, a part of the group. And offering food for the soul, a prayer gathering, can be a doorway into community as much as offering food for the body, a soup kitchen, or food for the mind, a Bible study group, or food for our relationships, a community worship service. For this Lenten experience, I am most grateful.

To join the Daily Prayer, go to the TUC website ( https://tuc.org.au ) and click on the Church Services icon.

To sample the worship resources of the Northumbria Community, go to https://www.northumbriacommunity.org/offices/morning-prayer/

Boaz and Phoebe, on Mary and Jesus (John 12; Lent 5C)

A dialogue between two slaves at the house of Lazarus, Martha and Mary, written by Elizabeth Raine, presented at Tuggeranong Uniting Church on Sunday 3 April.

Boaz is a strict Jew and has a firm idea of custom and law. Phoebe is of Jewish Hellenistic origin, more liberal in her views and very interested in the message of Jesus. They have been serving dinner to the guests, including Jesus, after Lazarus’ was mysteriously raised from the dead.

*****

Boaz: It still find it creepy, I confess, being at the home of a dead man who somehow isn’t dead any more. Oh, I can understand the gratitude that Martha and Mary must have felt, and why they wanted to thank Jesus for restoring their brother to them. But you have to admit, the whole thing was strange. And that Jesus fellow, he is rather strange as well, don’t you think?

Phoebe: I thought it very kind of Martha and Mary to honour Jesus. I don’t find it strange at all. Everyone knows he is a holy man withwonderful powers from God. Lazarus’ raising was a miracle, a blessing from God. How can you think holiness in someone is a problem?

Lots of reasons. Holy men have a habit of coming to sticky ends. And I thought Mary’s gratitude was a little excessive. Fancy wasting all that expensive perfume. Where did she get the money from?

Well, I thought Mary’s anointing Jesus with that perfume was a beautiful demonstration of gratitude, and devotion. And surely you are not suggesting that she came by the perfume dishonestly.

No, of course not. But with a household to run, it seems an unnecessary expense to incur. And you must have heard the argument between Jesus and one of his disciples about it. You know, the one who keeps their accounts. Judas, I believe his name is. Judas wasn’t impressed by Mary’s action.

Well, I don’t think it is any business of Judas, or ours, or anyone else’s if Mary wished to thank Jesus in this way. How she spends her money is surely her concern and her business only.

I suppose so. But Judas had a good point. A whole jar of that perfume would be worth a year’s wages. Imagine how much good all that money could do for the poor. After all, we were commanded as Jews to give relief to the poor. Deuteronomy specifically states that we should ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbour in your land’”. And look at the teachings of Jesus himself. He is always on about helping the poor. I heard he even advised one wealthy young man to sell everything he had and give it to the poor. Yet here he is accepting perfume worth a king’s ransom be wasted on his feet!

I can see what you are saying. But Jesus and the disciples have given lots of money to the poor over the last few years. You know they have. And inspired others to do the same. And Mary has a right to spend her money as she wishes. She clearly offered this gift out of her gratitude and great love for Jesus. After all, what price her brother’s life?

Well, I am not sure Jesus should have allowed a whole year’s wages to simply evaporate into thin air. Yes, it was a nice gesture and it did make the house very fragrant and pleasant. But what business has Jesus got to ask other people to be giving away or selling their things in aid of the poor when he allows such waste on himself? I still think Judas had a good point. All those denarii could feed a lot of hungry people. How can you be sure that Mary was doing the right thing? 

I say if you are going to be generous, then do it properly. And this is also an important part of all our traditions, to be generous in hospitality to our guests and to take care to show our appreciation for the favours of others. After all, the proverb says, “Some give freely, yet grow all the richer; others withhold what is due, and only suffer want.” Mary has given freely and didn’t withhold the appropriate thanks due to Jesus.

You sound just like that Rabbi Hillel with your liberal notions. I am sure this was not the intent of that proverb. But it wasn’t just the expense. It was what Jesus said in response to Judas, you know, about the poor always being around. You must admit that it was a very odd response for someone who says they are all for the poor and alleviating their suffering. He said that the poor would always be with us, but that he would not. This is not the attitude of a holy man. A holy man would think first of the poor.

I just told you that no one can accuse Jesus of ignoring the poor. Look at his recent actions. Apparently he managed to feed a whole crowd recently with only five loaves and two fish. In addition, I have heard some of the other followers of Jesus speak poorly of Judas. They say that Judas was not really concerned about the poor at all but was a thief who used to steal money from their common purse. Surely we cannot take his remarks seriously. Mary was motivated by love and gratitude,and Judas by selfishly wanting the money for himself. Mary, however, has surely given away a most precious possession with total selflessness.

Oh, you make it all sound very noble indeed. But just think about the way she went about it. Anointing his feet instead of his head. This isn’t customary. And letting her hair down in public like that, just like she was a prostitute. Whatpossessed her to do such a thing? She acted like she was repenting of something, not thanking the saviour of her brother. Or worse, making an offer of herself.

Oh, surely not. But I agree, it wasn’t the best image she presented of herself. I was a little shocked myself to see her kneeling at the feet of a man who wasn’t related to her, hair all over the place, wiping herself on his feet. I know they are good friends and all, but still – yes, there certainly was a breach of proprietary there. I just assumed she had forgotten herself in her great outburst of gratitude.

Well, though there is some truth in what you say, I wouldn’t want to make such an exhibition of myself. Wouldn’t a simple and heartfelt thank you in addition to the dinner be enough?

But you are forgetting just how great a miracle had been performed here – no wonder she knelt in worship at his feet. Jesus speaks about being humble and serving others. I am sure he wouldn’t be above anointing or washing feet himself. And only prophets anoint the heads of the great.

Hang on a minute. You are making it sound like Mary was recognising Jesus as the Messiah! Surely you are not suggesting this. Such ideas could be seen as blasphemous in certain circles. There have been whispers about this very thing.

Yes, I have heard the rumours as well. Apparently the chief priests are not happy at all with all the attention that Jesus has drawn to himselfsince the raising of Lazarus from the dead. I heard that they were trying to say that Lazarus wasn’t really dead; it was a stunt to suggest to the common folk that Jesus was the Messiah. You know, to drum up support from the peasants and get a movement going.

Yes, after Lazarus came alive, I did hear that the chief priests had called an emergency meeting of the Sanhedrin. They wanted to discuss what had happened, I suppose. After all, everyone is talking about the many signs that Jesus has performed. I guess they would be thinking that if they let him keep going on like this, that soon everyone will be believing he is the promised kingand messiah. And any mention of ‘king’ and the Romans would be sure tocome and destroy both the temple and us. 

I did hear that Caiaphas, the high priest, had made some sort of plan. Someone did whisper to me that he got fed up with all the debate, and told the Sanhedrin they were all fools. I heard that they decided it was better to sacrifice Jesus. You know, better to just have one man killed to appease the Romans rather than the whole nation be destroyed.

Hmmmmm, do you think Jesus has heard about this? Might explain the very strange remark he made at the time Mary was wiping his feet. He said to Judas that the perfume was for his burial. I thought to myself at the time, ‘Who is he to be planning such an expensive burial ritual? And he is only young. Why would Mary be getting ready for his burial now?’ But if he had heard the rumours too, then that remark suddenly makes sense.

Do you really think that the priests have made up their mind to actually have Jesus put to death?

I think it possible, and what’s more, I heard that they had let it slip that anyone who might know where Jesus was should let them know, so that they could arrest him. Even heard there was a reward. If you are right about Judas being a money grubbing thief, then maybe he will try and claim it.

Oh, surely not. He and Jesus are so close. Don’t even think that. But Jesus needs to be careful. I thought I heard him say at the dinner that he was going to Jerusalem soon, and Jerusalem is a hotbed of unrest with Passover coming up. There was also some talk that the priests were planning to kill Lazarus as well, because everyone keeps coming to have a look at him. It isn’t every day that you can look at someone who has come back from the dead.


Well, Jesus wants to hope that the priests don’t hear of this latest extravagance and interpret Mary’s gesture and Jesus’ acceptance of it as some sort of symbolic anointing of Jesus as a royal Messiah. Otherwise he will be looking for a tomb, not a throne.

*****

See also https://johntsquires.com/2022/04/01/jesus-anointed-as-a-sign-of-his-fate-john-12-lent-5c/

Jesus, anointed as a sign of his fate (John 12; Lent 5C)

How many stories about Jesus are told in all four Gospels? Apart from the trials and crucifixion of Jesus (Mark 14–15 and parallels), not very many. The story of a woman who anoints Jesus during a meal is one of them. The earliest version in the Markan account of the beginning of the good news of Jesus, chosen one (Mark 14:3–9) is repeated almost the same in Matthew’s book of origins (Matt 26:6–13). A similar account is included in the fourth Gospel, the book of signs (John 12:1–8). This version provides the Gospel reading for this coming Sunday.

All three accounts are placed at a key place in the narrative arc of each Gospel; the story forms the hinge between the public activities of Jesus and the events that take place in the last week of his life. All three accounts offer a symbolic looking-forward to the fate that lies in store for Jesus—his betrayal, arrest, trials, crucifixion, and burial.

Two Synoptic accounts specifically state that the anointing of Jesus prefigures the anointing of his dead body (Mark 14:8; Matt 26:12). The unnamed woman in the Markan account is honoured for her symbolic action: “what she has done will be told in remembrance of her” (Mark 14:9; so also Matt 26:13). She performs a valuable and deeply spiritual role, signifying in advance the death of Jesus.

As this unnamed woman expends “an alabaster jar of very costly ointment of nard” in anointing the head of Jesus, she is doing in advance what a group of women will later attempt to do early on the morning after the Sabbath, as they “bought spices so that they might go and anoint [Jesus]” in the tomb where his body lay (Mark 16:1). The women likewise “prepared spices and ointments” in Luke’s account (Luke 23:56–24:1). The parallel in Matt 28:1 simply states that the women “went to see the tomb” (28:1); there is no mention of perfumes for anointing the body in this account.

The Johannine account of this anointing at a household meal is more subtle; Jesus indicates that the perfume had always been intended for “the day of my burial” (John 12:7); it would appear that this day now draws near. In fact, in John’s narrative, rather than the women, it is curiously Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus who “took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial customs of the Jews” (John 19:38–41). They perform the actions traditionally ascribed to females by Jewish custom.

The story of the anointing of Jesus is substantially reworked by the author of the orderly account of the things being fulfilled, to produce a quite different account (Luke 7:36–50). In this version, it is a different woman (unnamed, but identified as “a woman in the city, who was a sinner”), who anoints the feet of Jesus, rather than his head (as in Mark and Matthew).

Rather than pointing towards his death, the anointing of the feet of Jesus appears to express the respect and deep veneration that the “sinful woman” has for him (Luke 7:38). The point of the story is not to prefigure the death of Jesus, but to focus on the gracious forgiveness of sins which characterises the ministry of Jesus (Luke 7:39–50).

The story is set in a different location, in the house of “Simon the Pharisee” rather than “Simon the leper” of the Mark and Matthew version. And the story, set in Bethany in Judea by Mark, Matthew, and John, is placed in a different location in the narrative flow of Luke’s story—much earlier, in Galilee (Luke 4:14 appears to set the general geographical location for all of chapters 4 to 9).

The woman, anonymous in the other three accounts, is named in the book of signs as Mary, sister of Martha and Lazarus. (There is nothing here, or in other Gospel accounts, that in any way identifies her as Mary Magdalene.) In John’s telling of the story, the meal is linked with the previous story of the raising of Lazarus (11:1–44). That was the incident, according to John, which propelled the opposition to Jesus to crystallise into a fully-fledged plot to arrest and kill Jesus (11:45–57). So the narrative flow is clear: Jesus raises Lazarus, the chief priests and Pharisees order the arrest of Jesus, the woman anoints Jesus, the chief priests plan to kill Lazarus also, and Jesus then enters Jerusalem to the shouts of “Hosanna!” (John 11–12).

This is in contrast to the Synoptic narratives, in which dissension regarding Jesus, evident from early times (Mark 3:6) is later crystallised into a full scale plot to arrest him and have him put to death. The camel that broke the straw’s back in those narratives was the politicised way Jesus entered the city and caused havoc in the Temple courtyard (Mark 11:18; Luke 19:47–48; Matthew softens this immediate impact at Matt 21:15, but describes the full plot at 26:3–5). The debates that Jesus undertakes with various Jewish figures whilst teaching in the Temple precincts (Mark 11:27–13:1; Matt 21:23–24:1; Luke 19:47–21:38) simply aggravates the dissension and accelerates the plot to arrest and kill him (Luke 21:37–2:2).

Perhaps the extravagant amount of perfume used to anoint the feet of Jesus, as was also the case in Luke’s account (not his head, as in Mark and Matthew) reflects the joy of the household in Bethany, as Mary and Martha rejoice that their recently-deceased brother, Lazarus, was now once more alive? Surely extravagant celebration was acceptable after such an event.

The raising of Lazarus was, as the author of the book of signs positions it, the climactic sign amongst the series of seven signs that mark the first half of his narrative (John 2:1–11:44). Whilst the earlier signs had evoked belief (2:11; 4:53–54; 6:29–34, 69; 9:35–38), opposition to Jesus had grown and many did not believe (8:42–47; 10:22–26), and this last sign had accelerated the conflict with the Jewish authorities into outright antagonism (11:47–53).

Judas, however, complained about how much perfume was used (some commentators suggest that 300 denarii was a full year’s wage for a labourer). Jesus has a snappy retort ready to give to him—“you always have the poor with you” (12:8).

These words of Jesus are often misinterpreted to suggest that Jesus reflects an acceptance of the state of “the poor”. On the contrary, Jesus is here quoting from the Law, where Israel is instructed, “since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth … open your hand to the poor and needy neighbour” (Deut 15:7–11). Recognition of who Jesus is goes hand-in-hand with serving those who are in need; indeed, careful attention to the teachings of Jesus intensify this duty.

The way that Mary has used the “costly perfume” indicates, in the end, that this is “the day of [his] burial”—Jesus is facing the cross. This will be “the hour” for which he came (2:4; 8:20; 12:23, 27–28; 13:1). What has long been in view, for Jesus, was now being publicly revealed. Soon, Jesus would pray, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son” (17:1). And events would take their course …

A new thing, springing forth (Isaiah 43; Lent 5C)

“Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Isa 43:18–19).

These words are attributed to the prophet Isaiah, who lived in the southern kingdom of Judea eight centuries before Jesus, serving as a “court prophet” during times of abundance. Isaiah was active a time when the southern kingdom of Judah was flourishing. He became active in the last years of the reign of Uzziah, who, it was said, ruled as king for fifty-two years (788–736). He lived through the reigns of Jotham and Ahaz (16 years each), and died towards the end of the reign of Hezekiah, who himself enjoyed 29 years on the throne.

The year of Isaiah’s death is uncertain; he may well have been alive, still, when the Assyrian army of Sennacherib laid waste to the northern kingdom (722–721) and deported the northerners to clear the land. In such a context of stability, however, the promise that God would do “a new thing” sits somewhat uneasily in the situation we can reconstruct.

This is one reason why many scholars maintain that the section of the book of Isaiah where we find this passage (Isaiah 40–55) is set some centuries later, after the southern kingdom itself had been conquered by the Babylonians (587–586), and the people taken into exile in Babylon. This became the pivotal event in the history of Israel, the people as a whole—at least in terms of the stories that we have gathered in the scrolls of the Hebrew Scriptures.

The first 39 chapters of the book of Isaiah focus on Jerusalem and Judah (2:1; 3:1; 5:3; 11:12-16; 22:5-8, 20-25; 26:1) and Assyria (7:10–25; 8:1–10; 10:5–12; 14:24–27); 19:23–25; 20:1–6; 30:29–33). The final section of the book (chs. 36—39) is clearly the describing events of the 720s which led to the Assyrian invasion and conquest of the northern kingdom, Israel.

By contrast, second section of the book of Isaiah has a primary concern for the power which had taken the people of Judah into exile—Babylon (43:14–21; 47:1–15; 48:14, 20–21). The prophet promises a return to Jerusalem (40:1–2), but it is identified as Zion (40:9; 41:27; 46:13; 49:14; 51:3, 11, 16; 52:1-2, 7-8).

There are many stories in Isa 1—39 relating to the personal life of the prophet, but no such personal connections in Isa 40—55. By contrast, a very direct historical reference, in a section referring to Cyrus, King of Persia (44:24–45:19), indicates a later setting. Cyrus ruled the Achaemenid Empire from 559 to 530 BCE and, after defeating the Babylonians in 539, issued a decree permitting the exiled Israelites to return to their homeland.

We have already reflected on one passage from this section of Isaiah (55:1–12, Lent 3), noting how it differs from the worldview and understanding of God from earlier periods in the life of Israel.

This passage thus comes from a time when the Israelites were in exile in Babylon. It was not a happy time for many of the people of Israel. (Psalm 137 is the classic expression of this; note especially the anger expressed in verses 8–9.) The people of Israel yearned to return home (Jer 29:10–14; 30:1–31:26). They looked back on the past with longing eyes. They remembered their years in the land which God had given to them. Now, they were living among Babylonians—foreigners, conquerors.

Soon, they would leave behind these memories, and grasp hold of the future that God has for them. God would “send to Babylon and break down all the bars” (43:14). God, the prophet declares, is doing a new thing! (43:19).

And yet, that “new thing” is informed by the past. The people once travelled out of slavery in Egypt, into freedom in Canaan, leaving behind the Egyptian “chariot and horse, army and warrior”, stuck in the waters of the sea that suddenly swamped them—“extinguished, quenched like a wick” (43:17; cf. Exod 14:26–31, 15:4–12, 19, 21). In the time of the prophet, “the shouting of the Chaldeans will be turned to lamentation” as the people depart (43:14).

In like manner, now, the people will take the journey back home, pass through the desert, and return to their land. The one who made “a way in the sea, a path in the mighty waters” (43:16) during the Exodus from Egypt (Exod 15), will now “make a way in the wilderness” (43:19) for the people to follow, leading them right back to the land from which they had been forcibly removed decades earlier (2 Kings 25:1–21; 2 Chron 35:15–21).

As they were sustained in that desert journey long ago, so God now will give “rivers in the desert” (43:19) which will provide “water in the wilderness … to give drink to my chosen people” (43:20) as they travel on that way. That caled for shouts of praise to God! (43:21).

The Exodus imagery was potent for Israel; not only was the story developed over centuries to provide a story of origins for Israel, but it was also co-opted into the prophecies predicting the return to the land, providing those oracles with greater strength and rigour. (And, of course, the story continued on into the feast of Passover, the annual celebrations which continue amongst Jews right through until the present day.)

The Exodus imagery also undergirds the Christian story. Jesus, declared by John the Baptist to be the lamb of God (John 1:29, 36), affirmed by Paul as the new Passover lamb (1 Cor 5:7), envisaged by the ageing prophet on Patmos to be the slaughtered lamb (Rev 5:6–14), is believed to enact a new Passover for his followers, according to the developing Christian tradition.

Just as the shedding of the blood smeared on the doorposts of the Israelites was their salvation (Exod 12:7, 13, 22–23), so the shedding of Christ’s blood is understood to effect salvation (Rom 5:8–10; 1 Pet 1:18–21). So the age-old imagery and symbolism is reworked by the early Christian writers, continuing the process seen in the words of the prophet speaking during the return from Exile (Isa 43:16–21).

See also

https://johntsquires.com/2022/03/01/belonging-first-and-foremost-the-message-of-the-alien-deut-26-lent-1c/
https://johntsquires.com/2022/03/07/cutting-the-covenant-gen-15-lent-2c/
https://johntsquires.com/2022/03/14/listen-carefully-to-me-eat-what-is-good-isa-55-lent-3c/
https://johntsquires.com/2022/03/21/gilgal-place-of-transition-josh-59-12-lent-4c/

Gilgal: place of transition (Josh 5:9–12; Lent 4C)

The Hebrew Scripture offered for this coming Sunday passage (Joshua 5:9-12) occurs at the end of the period of Wilderness Wanderings that the Israelites experienced. It takes place at Gilgal, to the east of Jericho, just inside the land of Canaan, which has been the destination in view throughout those forty long years of their wilderness journey.

At Gilgal, things start to change. There, the manna and the quails that had consistently been provided throughout their Wilderness Journey (Exod 16; Num 11), now ceased. The people had to leave behind that aspect of their past. And many of us would know that changing habits after forty years is difficult, is it not?

At Gilgal, the place of transition, the Israelites are now in the land of the Canaanites. Their diet would change. The Israelites would start to eat from the produce of the land. They would enculturate with the people already living in the land. Over time, they would marry Canaanites. They would adopt new customs. Their language would change. They would become, not wanderers in the wilderness, but settlers in the towns and villages of the land. Changes would happen. A very significant transition would take place.

This all begins at the place called Gilgal. Gilgal is a Hebrew word meaning “circle”. It was adopted as the name for the place in this story where Israel marked their transition from fugitives fleeing the slavery of Egypt, to invaders conquering the land that they believed they had been given. At Gilgal, a gilgal (circle) of stones was set up (Josh 4:1–9). The circle in this place marked the moment of transition, as the people cross the Jordan into the land.

The Hebrew offers a neat word play: where the circle is (Gilgal), the Lord rolled away (gallowti) the reproach of Egypt. The reproach was the fact that Israelite boys were not circumcised during the wilderness wandering (5:5)—the covenant which was signalled by the mark of circumcision (Gen 17) had been forgotten (Josh 5:1–5). So, Joshua ordered that circumcisions should be carried out on the Israelite males at this place (5:3). Once they had adhered to the forgotten covenant, and reinstitute the overlooked sign of that covenant, the people were able to live in the land that had been promised (5:6–9).

The Passover meal that is shared at Gilgal (Josh 5:10–12) recalls the swift departure from Egypt (Exod 14). Entry into the land means that the wilderness provision of manna ceases; “the land flowing with milk and honey” (5:6) would provide abundant nourishment. So it is, that both Passover and Gilgal signal transition—the liminal space of crossing over into a new experience. Stepping into the river, and then out on the other side, would effect a transformation in the people of Israel.

See https://johntsquires.com/2019/03/18/on-the-threshold-in-a-liminal-space/

https://johntsquires.com/2019/11/15/celebrating-transitions-into-a-strange-and-graceful-ease-part-one/
https://johntsquires.com/2019/11/16/celebrating-transitions-into-a-strange-and-graceful-ease-part-two/

On the Gospel passage for this Sunday

https://johntsquires.com/2019/06/27/the-discomfort-of-ambiguity-luke-15/

and, in relation to the Christian festival of Easter

https://johntsquires.com/2020/04/07/liminal-space-waiting-and-not-knowing-holy-saturday-reflections/

See also

https://johntsquires.com/2022/03/01/belonging-first-and-foremost-the-message-of-the-alien-deut-26-lent-1c/
https://johntsquires.com/2022/03/07/cutting-the-covenant-gen-15-lent-2c/
https://johntsquires.com/2022/03/14/listen-carefully-to-me-eat-what-is-good-isa-55-lent-3c/

Joseph of Arimathea: rich and righteous, devout and a disciple of Jesus.

In the Uniting Church’s resource provided for worship leaders, Uniting in Worship, there is a Calendar of Commemorations, based on the cycle of annual feast days for saints in the Anglican, Catholic, and Orthodox churches—but broadened out to be much wider than this. Many days of the year are designated to remember specific people. Today (19 March) is the day to remember Joseph of Arimathea—a figure best known for the scene, reported by all four Gospels, when he takes the body of Jesus from the cross and places it in a tomb.

Joseph was a common biblical name—son of Isaac, father of Jesus, amongst others. This Joseph is distinguished by his home town, Arimathea. All we know is that it was a town in Judea (Luke 23:51). It is thought it may be Ramathaim Sophim, the birthplace of Samuel (1 Sam 1:1, 19), which appears in the LXX as Greek Armathaim Sipha.

In the earliest Gospel, this Joseph is described as being both “a respected member of the council” and as one who was “waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God” (Mark 15:43). The kingdom of God is what Jesus was preaching, according to Mark (1:15; 4:11) and that is what the crowd lining the streets into Jerusalem understood him to be bringing (11:10). Mark’s report indicates that Joseph, who shares this expectation with Jesus, “bought a linen cloth, and taking down the body, wrapped it in the linen cloth, and laid it in a tomb that had been hewn out of the rock; he then rolled a stone against the door of the tomb” (Mark 15:46).

Matthew reworks this description; he is “a rich man” (rather than a member of the council) who was “a disciple of Jesus” (Matt 27:57). By contrast, Luke introduces Joseph as “a good and righteous man” (Luke 23:50), echoing the much earlier descriptions of Elizabeth and Zechariah (1:6) and Simeon (2:25).

Luke explains that Joseph, “though a member of the council, had not agreed to their plan and action” (Luke 23:50–51). Differentiating Joseph from the others in the council seems important for Luke; after all, in Luke’s account, the council had brought Jesus to Pilate, saying that “we found this man perverting our nation, forbidding us to pay taxes to the emperor, and saying that he himself is the Messiah, a king” (23:2).

When Pilate demurs, council members press the point: “he stirs up the people by teaching throughout all Judea, from Galilee where he began even to this place” (23:5). After sending Jesus to Herod (a curiously unhistorical action, given the actual governance arrangements at the time), Pilate states his belief, for a second time, that Jesus is innocent (23:4, 14), before the “the chief priests, the leaders, and the people” together agitate for the release of Barabbas (23:13, 18). Luke’s more detailed description of Joseph places him at odds with this whole sequence of events; “though a member of the council, had not agreed to their plan and action” (23:50–51).

Luke further indicates that Joseph “was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God” (23:51), picking up on Mark’s description. In the context of Luke’s two volumes, however, this description aligns Joseph very closely with the enterprise that Jesus was engaged in; “I must proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God to the other cities also; for I was sent for this purpose”, Jesus declares (4:43); “he went on through cities and villages, proclaiming and bringing the good news of the kingdom of God” (8:1).

Jesus sends out both the twelve, and then the seventy, to proclaim the kingdom of God (9:1–2; 10:1, 9–11); he instructs his followers to pray, “your kingdom come” (11:2) and to “strive for [God’s] kingdom” (12:31); he tells. parables of the kingdom (8:10; 13:18, 20); and teaches that “the kingdom of God is among you” (17:20–21).

As Jesus draws near to Jerusalem, those travelling with him “supposed that the kingdom of God was to appear immediately” (19:11); indeed, as he enters the city, people acclaim him as “the king who comes in the name of the Lord” (19:38). At the last meal he shares with his disciples, Jesus looks to the fulfilment of the kingdom (22:14–18, 28–30), and one crucified alongside Jesus shares this hope, saying to him, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” (23:42).

Jesus continues this after his death and resurrection, “appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God” (Acts 1:3); subsequently, key followers of Jesus proclaim the kingdom in key locations— Phillip in Samaria (8:12), Paul and Barnabas in Antioch (14:22), and Paul in Ephesus, (19:8). This was Paul’s common activity everywhere (20:25); the final picture of Paul is that he lived under house arrest in a Rome, “proclaiming the kingdom of God and teaching about the Lord Jesus Christ with all boldness and without hindrance” (28:31).

So Joseph, “waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God” (Luke 23:51), is firmly aligned with Jesus and with his followers in Luke’s Gospel. He is clearly, as Matthew reports, “a disciple of Jesus” (Matt 27:57).

In the fourth Gospel, Joseph performs the same task, requesting the body of Jesus from Pilate, and securing a safe place as the resting place for the body. He does this in conjunction with Nicodemus, “who had at first come to Jesus by night” (John 19:39). We first meet Nicodemus earlier in John’s narrative (3:1–21); at this time, he engages in what might be characterised as an appreciative enquiry with Jesus, under the cover of night (3:2), presumably so that he didn’t “out” his interest in what Jesus was teaching. It’s perhaps worth noting that Jesus spoke about “the kingdom of God” in his conversation with Nicodemus (3:3, 5)—the very same phrase that is key to the preaching of Jesus in Mark and Luke.

Some chapters later in John’s narrative, as Jesus experiences intensified opposition whilst in Jerusalem for the Festival of Booths (7:1–13), and the Pharisees and temple authorities join forces to send the temple police to arrest him (7:32), Nicodemus appears once more. The temple police return the temple, saying that they will not arrest him (7:45–46).

Nicodemus steps in; he is introduced as the one who “had gone to Jesus before, and who was one of them”—that is to say, one of the disciples (7:50). He speaks boldly: “our law does not judge people without first giving them a hearing to find out what they are doing, does it?” (7:51). The dismissive reply of the Pharisees further aligns him with Jesus; “surely you are not also from Galilee, are you?” is their rejoinder (7:52). His allegiance is clear, at least in the minds of the Pharisees, if not also the narrator of the Gospel.

Nicodemus returns a third time, after the death of Jesus, when the body of Jesus is requested by Joseph of Arimathaea, who is here,clearly identified as being “a disciple of Jesus, but secretly, for fear of the Jews” (19:38).

Joseph of Arimathea is here described as being “a disciple of Jesus, but secretly, for fear of the Judean authorities” (19:38). The fear of the Judean authorities has been a recurrent motif in John’s narrative (5:1; 7:13; 9:22; here, and 20:19). (The term I translate as “Judean authorities” is most commonly rendered as “Jews”, but this translation is too wide and does not accurately reflect the way the term is used in John’s Gospel.)

Once again, Joseph is identified as a disciple of Jesus (John 19:38; so also Matt 27:57, and, as we have argued above, that is the implication in both Mark 15 and Luke 23). Both Joseph and Nicodemus, we might presume, were numbered among the “many, even of the authorities, [who] believed in him”, but who, “because of the Pharisees, did not confess it, for fear that they would be put out of the synagogue” (12:42).

The manner in which the body of Jesus is removed from the cross into the grave, anointed with an extravagantly large amount of spices, myrrh and aloes and wrapped in linen cloths “according to the burial custom of the Jews”, and placed in a previously unused tomb (19:38–40), reflects the tender, respectful approach of these two of Jesus’s disciples.

The body of a crucified person would normally be thrown into a communal grave outside the city; all four Gospels take pains to report that this as not the fate of Jesus. The historicity of this claim must surely, however, be significantly doubted. The point of the narrative is not historical verification. The intention is to continue to attest to the significance of Jesus, acknowledged as king, given exactly the kind of extravagant funerary rites that were befitting for a king.

And that is the gift that Joseph of Arimathea offers to followers of a Jesus, even to this day: a compassionate, respectful treatment of the body of Jesus. It’s good to remember him for this, today.

Mission, Evangelism, Bearing Witness, and Dialogue: some theological reflections

What are we doing when we engage in ”mission planning”? What do we mean when we talk about “mission”?

The Canberra Region Presbytery of the Uniting Church is exploring such questions this year. Our previous Strategic Plan, with its Five Key Pillars, came to a conclusion last year. This year, in conjunction with the Mission Enablement Team from Synod, the Presbytery is developing a new mission plan, to serve as the guiding document for the Presbytery for the next few years. We are taking time in each meeting of Presbytery to focus on this process, drawing on wisdom from right across the Presbytery (country, coast, and capital).

This is my contribution to the initial conversation that is taking place.

*****

In approaching these questions, it may be helpful to explore a series of related ideas, and distinguish them from one another. Often, when people refer to mission, they mean one of these related ideas : evangelism, testifying (or bearing witness), converting (or proselytising), or perhaps engaging in dialogue. Mission is related to each of these words, but mission is not simply one or more of these words alone.

Mission is what God is doing in the world. It began long ago with the people of Israel, when God sent (missionised) messengers, prophets to speak guidance to the people. In Christian understanding, this mission came to a head when God sent (missionised) Jesus into the world. (The word mission comes from the Latin word missio, which simply means “to send”). We are called to join with this missional initiative, to find where God is already at work in the world.

Evangelism is work that is related to the good news (the evangel, originally a Greek word) … work that is carried out through words, through actions, through being a presence. We are called to undertake this work in the ways that are most appropriate and most fruitful in each particular circumstance. The aim is to make that good news known as a reality for other people. That can be by words, by actions, in personal relationships, in working groups, in communal undertakings.

Testifying or Bearing Witness is offering our words to explain how we have experienced God, how we have been swept up in the mission that God is undertaking in the world, how we have experienced the good news (evangel) in our lives. We are called to communicate our personal experience of this good news carefully, in contextually relevant ways, and in respectful relationship with others. The story is ours to tell!

Conversion is an effort made to change someone’s mind, to turn someone FROM something and TOWARDS something else, to turn them so that they join WITH you in your understanding of things. It necessarily involves persuasion, a focus on convincing, an intention to arrive at a clearly-defined goal. It can all-too-easily teeter over the edge of respectful relationships into unhealthy pressurising behaviour. It needs to be undertaken (if it is seen as important) in a very careful, measured way.

Proselytism is a term that has gained a hard edge over time. It appears in scripture, when new converts to the Jesus movement are called proselytes in Acts. It literally means “coming towards”. But in modern usage it has a harsh edge, often indicating the following of a prescribed formula, involving the use of pressure tactics, sometimes with verbal force that goes beyond mere conversation. It’s not something that I personally see as important—or even valid—in undertaking mission.

Dialogue is another word that needs to be considered when we think about mission. Dialogue means to “speak across”; to speak another person and appreciate them in their own right, valuing who they are and what they have to offer, engaging them in conversation that seeks mutual growth and deepened understanding of each other. Inevitably, in my experience, such conversations, when they facilitate genuine mutual encounters, can lead to new understandings, renewed commitments, and revitalised faith. And that is at the heart of mission!

So there is a cluster of activities that need to be considered when considering mission:

evangelism and witnessing to your faith (telling and showing the good news from your personal perspective)

developing respectful relationships with other people (building respectful relationships that enable deep sharing)

community engagement with local groups (working in practical ways on a common cause, and in so doing, deepening relationships)

the ministry of presence in the community (simply “being there”, indicating that you are open to engagement and conversation with others)

developing faithful disciples (working intentionally to deepen understanding, enliven passion, broaden commitment, strengthen capacity)

growing your church (working with others to develop the worship, witness, service, and fellowship of the local community of faith)

advocating for the least (taking a stand on issues of justice, seeking the common good for all)

Each of these aspects has a place when we think about “doing mission”. For when we focus on mission, we start with a very simple premise: God is present and active in the world. From that premise, we can begin to see that people around us are engaged in activities that God has inspired. There are stories from people all around us, about how God is at work—in our congregations, in our families, in our communities, in any part of the world.

We join in the mission that God is already carrying out when the spirit leads us to find these people and join with them in partnership. The gospel then becomes declaring what God is already doing in our midst, in our time; interpreting the actions that we undertake together as expressions of God’s loving care for the world.

In the midst of all of this, we will know that the church is formed in its fullness through this process of partnering with others. The community is the place where being disciples and being church is lived out. The mission that God is already undertaking in the world through these assorted people is the enterprise in which we participate, enthusiastically, hopefully, energetically.