As we travel through the weeks of Lent, we’re taking the time to look at a series of encounters between Jesus and different people who came across his path.
Last week we had the story of Jesus and Nicodemus; today, the Samaritan woman at the well. Two stories that are placed almost next to one another, and yet, in many ways, couldn’t be more different.
Genesis 12:1-4 | John 3:1-17
A couple of favourite passages come together, today. Our New testament reading from John, containing as it does the most cited verse in the Bible – John 3:16 – a favourite, especially, it seems, of people who hold up banners at American sporting events.
Encounters with Jesus.
For the next six weeks, as we journey through this time of Lent, the traditional forty days that lead up to Holy Week, to the death and resurrection of Jesus, we’re going to make that journey through a series of encounters with Jesus.
Last week we explored the way that Jesus, in his teaching on the sermon on the mount, declared that he was not abolishing, but fulfilling the law and the prophets.
And there’s a very important idea hidden in that phrase; that Jesus did not say “I have not come to abolish the law but to fulfil it” – he said “I have not come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come to fulfil them”
Isaiah 58:1-8 | Matthew 5:13-20
It’s a sad truth – but the Bible doesn’t always say what we want it to say, what we think it ought to say, what it would say if we wrote it. And that is certainly the case when it comes to Jesus’ words about the Old Testament law in our gospel reading today.
Micah 6:1-8 | Matthew 5:1-12
In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus’ three years or so of ministry is bookended by the word disciples. It begins, with the calling of disciples, and ends with the great commission, to go and make disciples of all nations.
The fact that we have four different accounts of Jesus’ life, recorded in the four gospels, is both a great blessing and a potential problem.
One of the major themes of John’s gospel, perhaps his most striking imagery, is that of light and darkness.
One thing that has really stuck me over the weeks of advent, as we’ve taken as our theme Isaiah’s words that “he shall be called the Prince of Peace” – and that, judging by the comments I’ve heard from others, has struck more than just me, is how powerful an idea, and how deeply desired, peace is.
Isaiah 7:10-16 | Matthew 1:18-25
I think it’s fair to say that it’s because of the author of Matthew’s gospel that we know so much about the writings of the prophet Isaiah.
Isaiah 11:1-10 | Matthew 3:1-8
A shoot shall come out from the stock of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots.
How timely an image is this for us in New South Wales at the moment, as we watch the news of bushfires and breath the smoke blanketing the city.
And so today we begin that journey of getting ready for Christmas, the journey of advent.
Genesis 1:31 | Psalm 24:1-2 | John 3:11-17
So over these few weeks before we move into advent we’ve been exploring what it means to be part of a bigger Church – part of a Church which is more than just Roseville, more than just Uniting, more than just early twenty-first century.
I doubt that there has ever been a society in which being a tax collector was a profession which would make you automatically popular amongst your peers. Even in a stable democracy like Australia, in which we have a say in the government that spends our tax dollars, and in which, for all the genuine disagreements in our political system, there is actually broad agreement on the vast majority of our spending, most people still resent paying tax, and would choose to pay less if they had that choice.
Chapter 15 of John’s gospel begins with the image of the vine – “I am the vine,” Jesus declares, you are the branches; abide in me and I will abide in you, and then you will bear much fruit.
Here, in the second half of that saying, Jesus takes that phrase, “abide in me”, and gives it meaning. He’s used the word ‘abide’ 8 times in the first few verses of the chapter; “abide in me, abide in my love” over and again, until finally, as if in answer to the unspoken question, he tells us what he means.
If you keep my commands, you will abide in my love