gregoryjenks

Author: Gregory C. Jenks

  • The binding of Isaac

    The binding of Isaac

    Pentecost 5 (Year A)
    28 June 2026
    St Paul’s Church, Ipswich

    IMAGE: Sacrifice of Isaac (Caravaggio, ca. 1603 CE) Wikimedia Commons

    As you may have noticed from the many sermons you have heard me deliver, I typically focus on the Gospel of the day.

    However, sometimes one of the other readings needs to be addressed. Today’s reading from Genesis 22 is one of those texts.

    As we prepare to engage with that passage, I invite you to think about what we’re doing as we listen to the Bible being read in church. We are not here for a Bible study session, nor are we here for an academic class with time to tease out various issues and perspectives relating to the text. Rather, we are here seeking spiritual wisdom and strength for everyday life. We can summarise spiritual wisdom and strength for everyday life in the single word, grace.

    The grace we are seeking is to hear what God wants us to hear, to hear what God is seeking to say to us. That’s why, at the end of the reading, we say, “Hear the word of the Lord.” In other words, listen for the message from God. Don’t simply focus on the words that have been read out. 

    As the New Zealand Anglican Prayer Book puts it ever so beautifully, “Hear what the Spirit is saying to the Church.”

    When we read a passage from the scriptures in Church, we give it authority and we say that it is powerful.

    The contents of our scripture readings have an impact on us all. They may give us hope. They may confront us with something in our life that needs to change. They may trigger some memory that is either painful or joyful. 

    It is rarely the case that a passage from the Bible can simply be read and then left hanging without some comment or reflection as part of the process. 

    As the preacher this morning, it is my responsibility to offer that comment and provide a reflection.

    In the Old Testament reading last week and again this morning, the lectionary offers us problematic texts, two vivid examples of what some biblical scholars call texts of terror.

    Last week, you may recall that it was Abraham expelling his concubine Hagar and their son Ishmael into the desert, expecting that they would die (Genesis 21:8:–21). That was also a problematic text, with the dynamic between Sarah and Hagar driving an abusive family dynamic that saw Abraham expel the enslaved woman with whom he had his first son (his first child) and the child himself into the desert.

    In today’s reading, Abraham has form. This time, unknown to Sarah, Abraham has become convinced that God wants him to murder their child Isaac and offer him as a human sacrifice.

    Clearly, Abraham needs therapy.

    This is a clear and horrific example of domestic violence. Were it to occur in any family connected with the life of this church, we would be horrified. We would call in the authorities, put the perpetrator into mental health care, and seek to provide a safe environment for the family.

    So, what do we do when we have Genesis 22 as the first reading in church on Sunday morning?

    I will offer some reflections on how I deal with this reading. You may find them helpful, you may not. 

    Do keep in mind that you don’t have to agree with me. However, whether you agree with me or not, you still must do your own thinking. It is essential that you develop some way of engaging with this story that reflects the character of Christ.

    One way of dealing with this passage is to note that it comes from a series of episodes about a legendary ancestor of the Israelite people. We could make the point that this is not a story about something that ever happened. That might be helpful. It at least gets God off the hook, since it is then clear that, if this story never happened, God did not in fact ask Abraham to sacrifice Isaac to prove how much he loved God.

    As a historian and as somebody who has devoted my entire life to academic biblical studies, this is a “get out of jail” card that I find quite attractive. However, it doesn’t solve all our problems, and it may even generate other problems.

    In any case, even if this terrible text has no basis in any historical moments from the life of an actual person called Abraham, it remains true that the people who created the Bible were happy to think that this is how God will treat people and how a person of immense faith would respond to such an horrific request from God.

    If you think God decided what stories—and even which words—got into the Bible, then God is responsible for this horrific story being in Genesis.

    Instead of rejecting this story as something unworthy of Scripture, for more than 2,500 years people of faith and goodwill have done their best to draw profound spiritual meaning from it. For Christian readers, this tale from Genesis 22 has often seemed like an echo of the crucifixion. 

    We do not have time—and likely not the interest—to review all those efforts.

    Instead, let’s step back and think for a moment about what we are being asked to do when we read the Scriptures; whether that be privately, in a small group discussion, or in a gathering such as Sunday morning worship.

    To listen to scripture is to engage in an exercise where we are seeking to discern what the Spirit of God—the Spirit of Jesus—might be saying to us. We are also looking to discern how we, as disciples of Jesus, might live faithfully from now on, informed by our response to that text.

    Here are some examples, just a few, of how we might engage in that discernment exercise.

    A text such as this may call me to think of those times when I have sacrificed my family for the sake of ministry. There were no silent walks to a faraway mountain, but there were many times when the demands of ministry took precedence over my responsibilities for those who were nearest and dearest, especially my children.

    A text such as this may remind me of times when people around us have made bad choices, indeed violent and harmful choices, that impact their children. How often have we looked away? How often have we excused their behaviour with a phrase such as “Well, they’re doing what they think is right”?

    Reflecting on a confronting passage like Genesis 22 might be an opportunity to reflect on how we can all do better in our response to God and in our care for each other.

    Alongside the terrible narrative of Genesis 22, we might place the two great commandments from Jesus: “You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart and soul and mind and strength.” And, “You shall love your neighbour, your child, as yourself.”

    The words of the Two Great Commandments challenge the narrative of Genesis 22

    Loving God with all our heart and soul and mind and strength can never involve harming a child, or sacrificing our family.

    This ancient story of a psychotic Abraham falsely thinking that God wants him to murder his child, having so recently expelled Ishmael and Hagar into the desert, calls us to a higher way.

    The text can serve as a mirror, allowing us to see those moments in our own lives when we might be tempted to misunderstand God’s call on our life.

    The text can also serve as a call to action. As communities of disciples of Jesus, the little ones must always be protected and nurtured. As Jesus taught his disciples, the Kingdom of God belongs to children. Caring for children is not a distraction from our core responsibilities as a church. These are our core responsibilities. Even if Abraham in the story could not see that, surely we can.

    Although this story is most likely something which never happened, let’s allow our imagination to take the story a little further.

    Imagine Abraham and Isaac returning to their home, their Bedouin tents, after this adventure, which ended so well when it could have ended so badly. Who tells Sarah where they’ve been? Is it Isaac or Abraham who will describe to Sarah what almost happened? Can we imagine Sarah’s reaction? What does she have to say to Abraham? What does she have to say to Isaac as she enfolds him in her arms?

    There are too many mothers crying over dead and injured children. 

    In Gaza. In the West Bank. In Israel. In Lebanon. In Iran. In Syria. In Sudan and South Sudan. 

    In Ipswich.

    As disciples of Jesus, we must do better. And we can.

  • Jesus, Sepphoris and the Stoics

    From time to time (and twice in the past couple of weeks) I am asked about the idea that Jesus may have been part of a casual workforce from Nazareth employed on the rebuilding of Sepphoris prior to commencing his public activity as a prophet of the basileia tou theou (the empire of God).

    This is often linked with the idea that Jesus would have been exposed to Hellenistic cultural influence through this connection to Sepphoris, and specifically may have had some contact with Stoic ideas.

    The underlying historical realities behind this question include:

    • proximity (ca 6km by foot)
    • prominence (Sepphoris was the capital for Herod Antipas)
    • opportunity (the city was rebuilt by Antipas after being destroyed by Roman forces in response to a rebellion by th city after the death of Herod)
    • cultural diversity (Sepphoris was a diverse city, with evidence of Greek theatre and Jewish synagogues)
    • parallels (some aspects of Jesus’ teaching and practice are similar to those of the Stoics)

    What follow here is a recent response I made by email to one such query.

    Attempting to identify any particular influences on Jesus during his formative years is a very difficult task.

    We have no direct evidence, and can only work from more general models (eg, Jewish kinship systems and domestic religious practices), informed—if we are fortunate—by archaeological insights.

    The information we have about Nazareth around the turn of the eras, does not support the suggestion—proposed, or at least made popular, by Jerome Murphy-O’Connor—that Jesus may have been engaged in the workforce at Sepphoris.

    It is true that Sepphoris was not far from Nazareth and was the dominant city in that area. It was destroyed by the Romans after an uprising that followed the death of Herod, and Antipas did engage in a rebuilding project. However, his rebuild was pretty modest, and short-lived. It would have ended by 18 CE (if not sooner) once he began the new city project at Tiberius and switched all his funds across to that project.

    The short-lived rebuilding project at Sepphsois was between, say, 6 BCE and 16 CE.

    The interpretation of tekton in Mark 6:3 is problematic. A single reference is not sufficient to establish the occupation of Jesus’ father, and in any case “carpenter” is not a good translation. “Construction worker” would be a better way to translate that term, and it could mean little more than handyman.

    Jospeh may have been the local maker and fixer of agricultural tools, but we cannot tell from this one passing reference and we certainly cannot speculate about any details of Joseph’s life. Tekton is more likely to have been a generic indicator of Jesus’ social status, than a formal classification of his father’s skills.

    More than that, Dennis R. Macdonald has suggested that the reference to tekton/carpenter may be a deliberate Homeric allusion by Mark and have no historical value.

    However, the crunch factor is that the most recent archaeological work done in the area between Sepphoris and Nazareth has demonstrated that the Torah-observant Jews in the small village of Nazareth would have been most unlikely ever to have any contact with the non-observant population at Sepphoris and at the villages that lay within its orbit.

    In summary, Nazareth was a kosher community while Sepphoris was not. The key research here is by Ken Dark:

    Dark, Ken. Roman-Period and Byzantine Nazareth and Its Hinterland. The Palestine Exploration Fund Annual XV, edited by Chiara Fiaccavento, XV. Routledge, 2020.

    For a brief summary of what we know about Nazareth in the Roman and Byzantine periods, see Nazareth Then and Now.

    All things considered—and allowing for all the things we do not know, such as when Jesus was born—there is not much likelihood that he would ever have visited Sepphoris, let alone been influenced by any hypothetical Stoics based there. Of course, we have no evidence for Stoics (or Pharisees for that matter) being in the rather modest and only partly-rebuilt city of Sepphoris during the first two decades of the first century.

    Finally, most of the impressive Hellenistic features of Sepphoris are from the second century CE or later. As such, they are irrelevant to the question of any cultural influences on Jesus.

    It may be significant that Sepphoris is never mentioned in the Gospels.

    It seems more likely that his formative experience was grounded in village Judaism with a strong attachment to Jerusalem and its temple.

  • Nazareth Then and Now

    TOP IMAGE: Lithograph from original sketch by David Roberts in April 1839.
    LOWER IMAGE: Photograph of Nazareth in July 2017.

    Gregory C. Jenks

     

    Ancient Nazareth[1]

    Ancient Nazareth lacked the critical advantages for its development as a significant settlement: abundant water supply, an elevated site for defensive purposes, and strategic location adjacent to a major highway. The most comprehensive recent study of the archeology of ancient Nazareth and its local region was completed by Ken Dark over several seasons between 2004 and 2008.[2]

    The earliest permanent settlement at Nazareth seems to have been established as an agricultural village populated byJews who had relocated from Judea during the Hasmonean and Herodian period.[3] The village occupied an area around half of one square kilometer and was located about 500m southwest of a perennial spring, traditionally known as Mary’s Well. That spring was sufficient to sustain a population of up to 1,000 people, which was the maximum size of the village until the 1850s when it increased to around 5,000 people,[4] before rising to 7,424 at the time of the first census undertaken during the British Mandate government in 1922.[5]

    British archeologist Ken Dark proposes that Nazareth was a small town serving a “distinctive Roman-period settlement system” in the Nahal Zippori area and extending to nearby Yafia.[6] Dark suggests an economy that included agricultural and quarrying activities. The most plausible explanation for the extensive quarrying activity is to provide materials for substantial buildings within Nazareth itself, and that suggests a transition from the earliest phase of settlement when caves provided the nucleus of the housing structures to a more established settlement with solid houses.

    Byzantine Nazareth

    Subsequent to his comprehensive study of Nazareth and its hinterland from the Roman period through until the Byzantine period, Ken Dark has published a second volume on the evidence for Byzantine Nazareth from the excavations at the Sisters of Nazareth Convent, which lies between Christ Church and the Basilica.[7] During the Byzantine period, Dark describes Nazareth with an emerging set of monumental sacred architecture, including at least the Church of the Nutrition (on the site of the Sisters of Nazareth Convent), the Church of the Annunciation (the present Franciscan site with its modern basilica), a third church understood by pilgrims as the synagogue from the time of Jesus, and another church where the current Greek Orthodox Church of St. Gabriel stands at Mary’s Well.

    This complex of Christian pilgrimage structures, located above venerated caves, seems to have continued after the Muslim conquest in the seventh century, although they may have gradually fallen into disuse as the number of pilgrims diminished.[8] There is some evidence to suggest these Christian sites were abandoned prior to the Crusader period. Dark notes this may have happened in 1010 CE when the Fatimid Caliph al-Hakim bi-Amr Allah ordered the destruction ofthe Church of the Annunciation in Nazareth, following his order for the destruction of the Church of the Resurrection in Jerusalem the previous year.[9]

    Crusader Nazareth

    There was brief revival of Christian presence in Nazareth during the Crusader period (1099–1187 CE). Dark suggests that the rebuilding process was intentionally rapid and indicative of the priorities of Tancred and his successors. We know from textual sources that the rebuilt Nazareth included churches and monasteries, a hospital for pilgrims and a library.[10] Dark notes that Nazareth was also an administrative center of the principality, implying a palace or fortress, and the settlement was walled.

    Islamic Nazareth

    During the thirteenth century control of Nazareth fluctuated between the Ayyubid dynasty and the Frankish Crusaders, culminating in the capture of Nazareth by Sultan Baybars and his emir, Ala al-Din Taybars in April 1263. At that time the Church of the Annunciation was razed and the site remained a ruin for the next 400 years.[11] The occasional pilgrim reaching Nazareth was only able to visit the Annunciation Cave below the ruins of the Crusader church and needed to pay a fee to the local Muslims.[12]

    Following the defeat of the Mamluks by the Ottoman empire in 1516, Christian pilgrims were banned from the key holy sites in the ancient village center. A sixteenth-century Ottoman financial record lists 253 Muslim households and 17 Christian households.[13]

    In 1620 the Franciscans were given permission by Fakr al-Din II, the Druze emir of Sidon, to repair the church above the Annunciation Cave. Friar Francisco Quaresmius described the initial repairs but also noted that they were again expelled from Nazareth in 1630 after the Bedouin emir, Tarabei, sacked the village and forced the Franciscans to leave.[14] Only in 1730 were the Franciscans given permission by Daher al-‘Umar, the Bedouin ruler of Galilee, to reestablish themselves in Nazareth and rebuild the Church of the Annunciation. Twenty years later in 1750, the Greek Orthodox were able to build a new church above the ancient Crusader crypt at Mary’s Well.[15]

    This re-establishment of a permanent Christian presence in Nazareth was only one hundred years before a major transformation would occur as Nazareth transitioned from a remote village into a major town of interest to the European powers. Those foreign powers included the British who established an Anglican mission there in 1851.

    Nazareth Today

    The current population of Nazareth is estimated to be around 80,000 people, according to data from the Israeli Central Bureau of Statistics (CBS).[16] The population is evenly divided by gender and is almost 100% Arab. The age distribution is skewed towards a youthful profile, with almost half of the population aged below 30 years of age and only 9% aged over 65 years.

    The population increased from 5,000 in the late 1800s, to 7,500 in 1922, 14,200 in 1945, and 20,300 in 1951 (reflecting an influx of internally displaced persons after 1948). The 1922 British census indicated 60% of the population were Christians. With the influx of displaced persons after 1948—partly offset by an exodus of around 20% of the nativeNazareth population during the war—there was a significant change in the religious profile of the city.

    The adjacent city of Nof HaGalil (founded in 1959 as Nazrat Illit, or Upper Nazareth) occupies an elevated site overlooking the Arab city of Nazareth. It is built on land expropriated from Nazareth and surrounding villages by the Israeli government. Although designed as a Jewish city, it has attracted a significant number of Arabs from Nazareth. In 2021 its official population estimate was 42,657,[17] of which 32% were Arabs. Significantly, almost one quarter of its total population are Arab Christians.

    The 2009 Israeli census data reported religious demographics of 69% Muslim and 31% Christian in Nazareth, but the 2025 annual Christmas media release on Christians in Israel indicates a Christian population of 18,900 in Nazareth as well as another 10,800 Christians in Nof HaGalil.[18] This suggests Nazareth is now 77% Muslim and just 23% Christian. Anglicans comprise 2% of the Nazareth Christian population (378 people).

    Development of the Nazareth municipality has been restricted by the failure of any Israeli administration to approve changes to the city’s town plan since the previous approvals by the British Mandate authorities in 1942. The city infrastructure is notably inferior to the facilities available in Nof HaGalil, and the basic operations of the municipality are problematic. There are major problems with garbage collection, road maintenance, and general civic services. Violent crime is a serious issue in Nazareth as it is in many Arab communities across Israel due to systemic discrimination against Palestinian citizens. In mid-2025, the Council was dismissed and an Israeli administrator appointed.[19]

    © 2026 Gregory C. Jenks

    Bibliography

    Alexandré, Yardenna. Mary’s Well, Nazareth: The Late Hellenistic to the Ottoman Periods. IAA Reports, 49. Israel Antiquities Authority, 2012.

    Bagatti, Bellarmino. Excavations in Nazareth. I: From the Beginning till the XII Century. II: From the XII Century until Today. Translated by E. Hoade. 2 vols. Franciscan Printing Press, 1969.

    Dark, Ken. Roman-Period and Byzantine Nazareth and Its Hinterland. The Palestine Exploration Fund Annual XV, edited by Chiara Fiaccavento, XV. Routledge, 2020.

    Dark, Ken. The Sisters of Nazareth Convent: A Roman-Period, Byzantine, and Crusader Site in Central Nazareth. The Palestine Exploration Fund Annual XVI, edited by Chiara Fiaccavento. Routledge, 2021.

    Fiensy, David A., and James Riley Strange. Galilee in the Late Second Temple and Mishnaic Periods: 2. The Archaeological Record from Cities, Towns and Villages. Fortress Press, 2015.

    Jenks, Gregory C. “The Quest for the Historical Nazareth.” In Bethsaida in Archaeology, History and Ancient Culture. A Festschrift in Honor of John T. Greene, edited by J. Harold Ellens. Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2014.

    Mansur, Asaad Al She’aeri. The History of Nazareth from its Earliest Times to our Present Days (Arabic). Al Hilal Press, 1924.

    Strange, James F. “Nazareth.” In Anchor Yale Bible Dictionary, edited by David Noel Freedman, vol. 4. Doubleday, 1992.

    [1] This material was initially prepared for a chapter on Nazareth Anglicans in the book, The Anglican Church and Palestine, edited by Kwok Pui Lan (Church Publishing, 2026). As it could not be included in the final edited form of that chapter, it is published here for anyone who may be interested in a brief summary of current research on Nazareth prior to the Late Ottoman period.

    [2] Ken Dark, Roman-Period and Byzantine Nazareth and Its Hinterland, The Palestine Exploration Fund Annual XV, ed. Chiara Fiaccavento, XV (Routledge, 2020). For other significant recent studies see Yardenna Alexandré, Mary’s Well, Nazareth: The Late Hellenistic to the Ottoman Periods, IAA Reports, 49 (Israel Antiquities Authority, 2012); Bellarmino Bagatti, Excavations in Nazareth. I: From the Beginning till the XII Century. II: From the XII Century until Today, trans. E. Hoade, 2 vols. (Franciscan Printing Press, 1969); and Gregory C. Jenks, “The Quest for the Historical Nazareth,” in Bethsaida in Archaeology, History and Ancient Culture. A Festschrift in Honor of John T. Greene, ed. J. Harold Ellens (Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2014), 252–67.

    [3] David A. Fiensy and James Riley Strange, Galilee in the Late Second Temple and Mishnaic Periods: 2. The Archaeological Record from Cities, Towns and Villages (Fortress Press, 2015), 5–6.

    [4] Alexandré, Mary’s Well, 148 & 151.

    [5] James F. Strange, “Nazareth,” in Anchor Yale Bible Dictionary, ed. David Noel Freedman, vol. 4 (Doubleday, 1992) 1050–51) suggests a population of 480 in the time of Jesus. My own estimate suggests a figure closer to 250 people in the early decades of the first century.

    [6] Dark, Roman-Period and Byzantine Nazareth, 87.

    [7] Ken Dark, The Sisters of Nazareth Convent: A Roman-Period, Byzantine, and Crusader Site in Central Nazareth., The Palestine Exploration Fund Annual XVI, ed. Chiara Fiaccavento (Routledge, 2021).

    [8] Asaad Al She’aeri Mansur, The History of Nazareth from its Earliest Times to our Present Days (Arabic) (Al Hilal Press, 1924), 44.

    [9] Dark, Roman-Period and Byzantine Nazareth, 21.

    [10] Dark, Sisters of Nazareth Convent, 191.

    [11] Mansur, History of Nazareth, 44–56.

    [12] Alexandré, Mary’s Well, 145.

    [13] Alexandré, Mary’s Well, 145.

    [14] Cited with extended quotations in Alexandré, Mary’s Well, 145–46.

    [15] Alexandré, Mary’s Well, 148. See also Mansur, History of Nazareth, 44–56.

    [16] https://www.citypopulation.de/en/israel/admin/hazafon/7300 nazerat/ [accessed November 6, 2025]

    [17]  https://www.citypopulation.de/en/israel/admin/hazafon/1061__nof_hagalil/ [accessed November 6, 2025]

    [18] https://www.cbs.gov.il/en/mediarelease/Pages/2025/Christmas-2025-Christians-in-Israel.aspx [accessed January 1, 2026]

    [19] https://www.israelnationalnews.com/flashes/660734 [accessed November 9, 2025]

    One response to “Nazareth Then and Now”

    1. Jesus, Sepphoris and the Stoics – gregoryjenks

      […] For a brief summary of what we know about Nazareth in the Roman and Byzantine periods, see Nazareth Then and Now. […]

      Reply

    Do leave a reply. I always appreciate hearing from my readers/Cancel reply

  • The oldest hatred

    Presentation to a panel discussion sponsored by the Jewish Council of Australia at St John’s Cathedral, Brisbane on Monday, 29 September 2025. The topic of the event was: Should anti-Semitism be exceptionalised or should we combat all forms of racism together? Co-hosts for the event included: Doykeit (a local Jewish group in Brisbane), St John’s Cathedral, United Nations Association of Australia (Qld Division), Queensland Muslim Inc and the Justice Unit of the Anglican Church Southern Queensland.

    Video from the livestream

    As I acknowledge the Yaggera and Turrbul people as the owners and custodians of the land on which we gather this evening, I am also conscious of my need to acknowledge the victims of apartheid, ethnic cleansing and indeed genocide in Gaza and across the West Bank at this very moment.

    I note that we are not here this evening to debate Zionism, nor to discuss Israel’s conduct during its extended occupation of Palestine, nor even its more recent destruction of Gaza.

    However, those realities remain in the background or, if you prefer, they look remarkably like an elephant sitting silently in the middle of the Cathedral.

    In any case, as we know, any attempt to criticize Israeli policy in Gaza, or indeed within Palestine during the last 80 years, is immediately met with accusations of Anti-Semitism.

    Inevitably, a discussion of Anti-Semitism is entangled with the problem of Zionism and the question of Palestine. 

    But let me keep the focus on the narrow question before us this evening, which is whether Anti-Semitism is an exceptional example of racism—or, perhaps better, religious vilification—that requires to be addressed in unique ways, or whether it is best understood as one particular form of the virus of xenophobia which we see in so many parts of our society at the present time.

    The uniqueness—the exceptional character—of Anti-Semitism is perhaps its longevity and its theological origins.

    So let me cut to the chase.

    Christians have a long and dark history of anti-Semitism.

    I sometimes think of Anti-Semitism as the original sin of Christianity, just as settler colonialism is the original sin of the Commonwealth of Australia.

    As a Christian, then, I find myself caught between the demands of justice and the obligation of humility.

    It is not particularly difficult to recognize the stunning injustice that has been perpetrated upon the Palestinian people, at least since the Balfour Declaration of 1917 and certainly since the creation of the modern state of Israel in 1948.

    However, my capacity to name and shame that blight upon humanity is tempered by my own status as a Christian.

    You see, if Christians did not invent anti-Semitism, we certainly perfected it.

    I teach Biblical Languages, including Biblical Hebrew, at St Francis Theological College—the Brisbane campus of the University of Divinity. As I frequently point out to students, there is a very simple reason why we have only a handful of ancient and medieval manuscripts for the Jewish Scriptures compared with the 10,000+ manuscripts for the Christian Scriptures.

    The simple reason is that Christians from at least the time of Constantine through until at least the time of Martin Luther did everything in our power to harass the Jewish community and—in particular—to destroy their sacred texts. 

    Whenever we could find copies of Jewish prayer books and the Hebrew scriptures these would be destroyed.

    That equates to at least 1,200 years of violent Christian Anti-Semitism.

    The roots go farther back into the New Testament itself with the blood libel that “the Jews” killed Jesus. That historical fiction conveniently absolves the Empire of responsibility; while creating a scapegoat for centuries of hatred.

    In a haunting parallel with the contemporary IHRA definition of Anti-Semitism, this ancient blood libel identifies the evil actions of the ruling elite with the people as a whole.

    We cannot accuse the ancient Jews of Palestine with complicity in the murder of Jesus, just as we must not confuse Zionism with Judaism; despite the best efforts of the Zionists to wrap themselves—and their crimes against humanity—in the holy robes of Judaism.

    The darkest of these biblical passages is doubtless the fiction fashioned by the author of the Gospel of Matthew, who invented the idea of the Jewish crowd (not the elite, mind you) invoking a divine curse on themselves and their children:

    Then the people as a whole answered [Pilate], “His blood be on us and on our children!” [Matt 27:25]

    Matthew is the most Jewish of the Gospels in the New Testament and yet the one most prone to say hateful things about the Jews and their religious leaders.

    Exceptional certainly comes to mind when we face that dark stain on Christianity.

    That shameful legacy requires me to speak with humility on the question of Anti-Semitism, while not privileging Anti-Semitism as a particularly nefarious expression of xenophobia.

    Even if we agreed that Anti-Semitism is simply one variant of the wider problem of xenophobia and racism, that would still leave the question of what constructive role Christians can play in this dynamic given our shameful legacy as the perpetrators of Anti-Semitism, in particular, over almost two thousand years.

    One response might be silence, but silence is at best ambivalent and almost always represents a de facto position in support of the abuser rather than solidarity with the victim.

    A very different response is seen in the Christian Zionist movement, which is particularly strong amongst evangelical Christians, and especially so in the United States of America. This really bad theology has its roots in the apocalyptic fantasies of 17th-century England. 

    While it offers enthusiastic support for the creation of Israel and an eagerness to justify any and every action taken by Israel against the Palestinians, Christian Zionism is actually driven by a fundamentally Anti-Semitic principle. You see, the end game is that all Jews will all become followers of Jesus. Or else they will die.

    We clearly need a more nuanced option. This will be one which takes seriously the dark legacy of Christian Anti-Semitism, while also embracing the principles of international humanitarian law which have been rescued from the ashes of the Holocaust. 

    In such a response, the Holocaust is no longer a “get out of jail” card for Jewish nationalists but rather a constant reminder that “never again” means never again; never here, never there, and never for any marginalized group, regardless of their faith, ethnicity, gender identity, or sexuality. Never again applies to everyone. Every where.

    The history of Christian Anti-Semitism compels me to oppose Anti-Semitism more generally, while simultaneously opposing crimes against humanity executed by a settler-colonial society that claims to represent Jews all around the world. 

    My Christian faith is grounded in the prophetic tradition of ancient Judaism. 

    The prophets of ancient Israel demand that I speak and act for justice.

    This obligation is increased—not lessened—by the dark history of Christian Anti-Semitism.

    When antisemitism is exceptionalized, xenophobia is allowed to spread unchecked.

    It will spread most rapidly and cut most deeply in those segments of our community with fewer privileges and less wealth. While the elite engage in lawfare to silence their opponents and critics, others choose to stay home rather than risk abuse if they walk on our footpaths wearing a head scarf.

    Every form of racism and every expression of xenophobia have to be named and shamed. This extends from the anti-immigration marches in city streets, to the graffiti on the wall of a synagogue, to bomb threats against a Muslim school, and to attacks on Hindu temples. 

    Australians aspire to be a community that celebrates difference and is the richer because of the many gifts brought into our community by people who have come from various parts of the world.

    All forms of xenophobia and racism are to be condemned and opposed. This includes Anti-Semitism, but is not limited to that most ancient of all hatreds.

  • Faith hope and love

    [ video ]

    Season of Holy Women 3
    Ipswich Anglican Community
    3 August 2025

    It has been quite a journey since that first Sunday in May last year.

    In my sermon that day, I reflected on the question: Are we there yet?

    Perhaps that was a question the women asked themselves as they made their way through the city streets of Roman Jerusalem in the darkness of the early morning. They were heading for the place where Jesus had been hastily laid to rest—not yet buried, but at least laid inside the chamber of the rock tomb—on Friday evening.

    The question we were pondering last year year was whether we were yet at that time when God would begin something new here in the Ipswich Anglican community?

    The question that they did now even know how to ask, was whether this was the time for God to do something new in human history?

    It did not occur to them that this was even a possibility. They were simply coming to the tomb to complete the burial process for their friend and master. They had no expectations of a whole new beginning.

    In May last year, we said the time was not yet.

    But today we can say, the time is now.

    We are about to see the beginning of a whole new phase of mission and ministry within and by the Ipswich Anglican community.

    The time has come. 

    The new beginning is about to unfold.

    As we reflect on this place of grace where we stand this morning, my thoughts are mostly shaped by the reading from Colossians.

    So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have stripped off the old self with its practices and have clothed yourselves with the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its creator. In that renewal there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all and in all!

    As I have reflected on that passage during the past week, I find myself noting how this passage plays with same key themes found in the great summary of faith that Paul offers at the end of 1 Corinthians 13:

    And now faith, hope, and love remain, these three, 
    and the greatest of these is love.

    So let’s take each of those three elements in turn.

    Faith

    We are people of faith, but the faith that matters most is not our own faith but that faith which Jesus himself demonstrated towards God.

    Jesus lived and died as one comprehensive and consistent act of faith. He trusted God to death and beyond.

    Easter is God’s response to the faith—or the faithfulness—of Jesus.

    Paul tells us in Galatians and in Romans, that just as Abraham’s faith was the basis for God blessing the Jewish people, so the faithfulness of Jesus is the basis for God blessing all of us. 

    All of us.

    And not just us.

    Rather, everyone.

    That is profoundly good news, and it takes us way beyond arguing over beliefs and doctrines.

    Faith is about trusting that God has this: whether that be the future of the world, or our own personal situation. We are in God’s hands, and all is well.

    That is faith.

    It is not about having a formula—a set of words—that meets some theological correctness test, but living with an attitude that trusts God for now and for tomorrow.

    This is the kind of trust we see in the Lord’s Prayer: give us today our daily bread.

    We seek to live that faith and share that faith, as we shape a community of loving practice here in the heart of Ipswich.

    Unless we live it we cannot share it

    The first challenge, then—as we move into the new future God has for us—is to be people of faith.

    Hope

    That faith will be expressed in our hope and in our love, but let’s think next about hope.

    How do we unpack the concept of hope?

    May I suggest that it means the opposite of fear. If we are afraid we shall not be exercising hope. Fear will limit our imagination and harden our responses to one another.

    Fear erodes hope and taints the wellsprings of compassion.

    Fear makes us hold tightly to what we have left, rather than share the little we have with those need it.

    We see a lot of fear in the wider world and in Australian society. And we see the way fear causes people to fight one another and attack those who threaten their sense of safety.

    Fear can galvanise people to act (and to vote), but it is never the basis for a healthy and secure future.

    On the other hand, when hope drives out fear, we are free to take risks and to love one another extravagantly.

    Not cautiously.

    Not in a very Anglican (careful) way.

    But extravagantly!

    As God begins something new here amongst us, we need to be people of hope, who are not afraid about the future, and are comfortable taking risks.

    Love

    In the Colossians passage, Paul tells his readers not to lie to one another.

    I take that to mean more than simply speaking the truth to one another, although it certainly begins there.

    No power games!

    Be authentic.

    This is simply a continuation of the message we had in the Epistle last Sunday:

    Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honour. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers.

    That is what love looks like.

    That is how this Ipswich Anglican community will look as God begins her new work amongst us.

    If we are to be a blessing to the city of Ipswich, then first of all we need to a community of loving practice.

    Our love for each other—and for anyone and everyone who crosses our path—has to be genuine.

    We—you—are standing at the threshold of something new.

    May you be people of faith, people of hope and a community of love.

  • Martha and Mary (and Abigail)

    Feast of Martha and Mary 
    St Paul’s Church Ipswich
    27 July 2025

    [ video ]

    Most of the time in our calendar of holy days and holy people, we look to celebrate extraordinary events: people who stand out from the crowd, events that amaze us, achievements that defy the odds,  and so on.

    Today is different.

    Today we celebrate two sisters sharing a house and entertaining a guest.

    Even so, we celebrate one sister above the other as we often refer to them as Mary and Martha, although Martha seems to be the senior sister.

    It was “her house” to which Jesus came for a meal, yet I still described today’s festival as “Mary and Martha of Bethany.”

    So here we are on the second Sunday in the Season of Holy Women.

    Last week we celebrated Mary the Magdalene. The Magdalene was far from ordinary, and seems to have been a passionate and perhaps feisty follower of Jesus. She was—it seems—unforgettable, although the early Christian Church did its best to forget her and erase her memory from among us.

    This week we have two very different women, although each of them may have been feisty in their own way.

    Martha and Mary were from the village of Bethany, now known—as I mentioned in my reflection in today’s bulletin—as the village of al’izariyya, the “Village of Lazarus.” 

    Even in their hometown their memory has been lost in favour of their brother.

    Luke—we note in passing—seems to have misunderstood their location as he has their entertainment of Jesus happening in the north, while Jesus is still en route to Jerusalem.

    As John tells the story, their home is at Bethany on the Mt Olives outside Jerusalem. It was safe house for Jesus and his followers, and the place where Jesus stays of an evening during his final week or so in Jerusalem. In John’s version of the story, it is Mary of Bethany who anoints Jesus’ feet as a prophetic action prior to his arrest and execution.

    But wait, there is more!

    As a bonus we also get the amazing story of Abigail, who also excels in hospitality although under rather more adverse circumstances. To fully appreciate her story, we need to read the paragraphs before and after the lengthy excerpt in today’s reading.

    At the heart of today’s celebration lies the theme of hospitality.

    Hospitality is a major cultural theme in the ancient world as it remains today in Arab society.

    Hospitality was also at the very heart of Jesus’ own mission and ministry. There were three strands to his program: 

    • announcing good news
    • healing the sick, and 
    • sharing meals together.

    It is reflected as well in our reading from Romans this morning:

    Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honour. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers.

    In our gospel today we have that classic story of Martha busy in the kitchen, while Mary is sitting at Jesus’ feet.

    Martha is doing what a woman was expected to do: prepare the meal for her family and any guests.

    Mary was doing what no respectable woman was allowed to: spending time with the men and engaging in their conversation.

    Martha is not impressed.

    Mary does not speak for herself.

    Jesus does not offer to assist.

    Worse than that, he implies that Mary is the one making the right choices, while Martha—who is doing everything correctly—has made the wrong choice.

    Jesus could have invited Martha to come and join them. After all, he could easily fix a meal for them to share. He had fed 5,000+ people, so a small group in a cottage at Bethany was no challenge at all!

    Ultimately, this is not a story about catering, but about agency and our response to God’s disturbing presence in our lives.

    Do we stick to our safe zones, or do we “launch out into the deep,” as Jesus would later say to the fishermen on the Sea of Galilee?

    Abigail took a risk and claimed her own agency in a patriarchal social system.

    Mary took a risk (not for the last time), in her desire to learn from Jesus.

    I like to imagine that Martha put down the pots and also came and sat with Jesus and Mary.

    What would we do?

Exit mobile version