Category: Sermons

Happy new year and if you are Orthodox, Merry Christmas to you! It is of course the Orthodox Christmas, though William was most disappointed to learn I have never seen the Orthodox practice that we are going to do today actually put into practice, even though I lived in an Orthodox country!

I did however see people cutting holes in the ice, and going for a swim – in Russian it is called being a морж (walrus!). There was a group of crazy English people in Moscow who did indulge in this ice swimming, but even though I was invited I had the good sense to decline!

As William said, we’ve jumped about thirty years in two days: from the Epiphany – the wise men coming to Jesus in his infancy – to today, with the Baptism of Christ.

But I can’t read today’s text without one big question striking me: why did Jesus need to be baptised? Let’s think this through:

• John the Baptist explicitly provides a baptism of repentance
• We know Jesus is the one who takes our sins. He doesn’t need to repent
• John recognised the problem: when he saw Jesus approaching, he knew full well who should be baptising whom! It’s like me showing off my football skills, and then Lionel Messi walks onto the pitch. I know I’m in deep trouble!

So let’s be clear: the baptism was a baptism of repentance. But the gospel tells us Jesus was not repenting. Indeed, John is the one who is repenting. And Jesus says “Let it happen. Go with it. This fulfils all righteousness”. Now, whatever this answer means, it satisfied John, it satisfied Matthew and it satisfied the first readers of his gospel, the early Christians.

So, what is going on?

First, Matthew places this baptism at the start of Jesus’ ministry. Baptism is about cleansing and rebirth, so in a sense it is launching the ministry of Jesus. It is a launch.

Secondly, this baptism is taking place in the Jordan River. This is where Elijah handed over his ministry to Elisha. This is where Moses handed over to Joshua. This is where John’s ministry is decreasing, and that of Jesus is coming to the fore. This is the change of old to new.

Thirdly, the Jordan is where God’s people crossed into the promised land. And in that crossing, they emulated the crossing of the Reed Sea as they exited Egypt. This was the escape from slavery and tyranny, and the other was grasping the promises and bringing in a new reality. New identities were beginning: you went in on one side a people in a desert, nomads; you came out the other in your homeland, people on a mission. This is commissioning and the giving of identity.

Fourth, Jesus is Lord. In other words, he is the one who heads his people. This means he embodies the people of God. Just as King Charles III will, on 6^th May 2023, symbolically die to himself and pick up the mantle of representing all of us, embodying us as a nation into one person before God, so too does Jesus. Jesus takes the people of God, leads us into the waters to be washed and reborn fresh and new. Jesus is not repenting personally, but he is taking us, his people, through the waters of repentance with him.

That is why the Bible is adamant that we must be In Jesus, to Dwell In Him. To Abide In Him. If we are ‘in’ him, we go with him through the waters of baptism and find forgiveness In Him. We go into death and then life with Jesus.

Fifthly, Jesus is showing us how to behave. The people reading Matthew’s gospel were Jews who wanted to know “how do we live righteously? How do we fulfil righteousness?” Matthew mentions righteousness seven times – a holy number. We know it was a concern.

And then along comes Jesus to John, and says this is how we “fulfil all righteousness”. Thus doing what God wants, obeying his commands, is how we fulfil righteousness. As such, the baptism of Jesus is a righteous thing – and righteous people will emulate it.

At the end of his gospel, Matthew gives us the great commission with its list of things believers should be doing: “Go into all the world and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey all I have commanded you”. In other words, fulfilling righteousness is obeying the commission to make disciples, baptising them, and teaching them obedience to Jesus.

That’s a lot of theology! Let’s recap:

• we have the launch of Jesus’ ministry;
• the handing over and change from old to new;
• commissioning and new identities;
• the embodiment of his people;
• and a call to obey him if we are to be righteous.

Baptism: it is copying our Lord and saviour. It’s joining with him, following in his footsteps. It is obedience.

I remember the faces of parents who bring their children for baptism, and how they are so shocked when you explain to them that their lovely little baptism for their little baby child is actually that child’s funeral! But that is what baptism is! It is the death of the old, and coming out of the water again as a new person. A new start. Dedicated to live for a new purpose to serve God and be righteous.

And then, as new people, we can hear the voice: “This is my Son, this is my Daughter, in whom I am well pleased”.

And this new life of righteousness begins with baptism, a conscious, public choice to follow Christ.

If you’ve not been baptised and you want to follow Jesus, then speak to me or William and we will help you take this step of obedience and make this sign to the world that a new life is beginning.

If you have been baptised, then remember what it means:

1. the launch a new life,
2. the change from old to new;
3. commissioning a new identity;
4. oneness with the people of God (embodiment),
5. and obeying him to be righteous.

Of course in today’s world, pouring water on someone, or submersing them in public, is a weird thing to do. And so too is what we will be doing today – blessing the canal.

But actually, life is full of outward reflections of inward, spiritual truths: in church, we anoint with oil; many kneel for prayer, and cross ourselves.

But outside of church we also do symbolic thing: we humans leap about to sonic waves, called dancing. We flap our metacarpi together to reward a good performance – we clap!

And we exchange and wear circular chemical elements that are transition metals with a group 11 element and atomic number of 79 in a public forum – we give wedding rings!

These are all symbolic actions, and they have meaning. We are not being superstitious when we do them, we are reminding ourselves that materialism is not everything, and that our outward actions reflect our inward constitution.

If someone is baptised, they are saying to the world “I am changing, metaphorically dying. The old me is dead, and I am now someone new. I want to live differently, to start again. This outward baptism shows an inward change.”

If someone blesses the waters of the canal, we are saying to the world “We Christians are people who live under the authority of Jesus, and he and us want the best for everyone who lives and works on the canal.

We want businesses to flourish. We want health, and safety. And that’s because God wants these things. God wants to restore and reconcile ALL THINGS, all of creation, to himself.”

But like with baptism, restoration of all things happens when the current ways of living are brought to God, made to die in the water, and then brought out the other side, relaunched in new life under His authority.

• So join us today in proclaiming God’s desire to restore all things as we bless the canal
• Reflect on where you are – should you be baptised in obedience to Christ?
• And if you were baptised, ask yourself, are you living faithfully to your new birth, under the Lordship of Jesus?

It is midnight in Bethlehem.

Tonight’s Gospel evokes Bethlehem’s hillsides. The angel of the Lord proclaimed to shepherds that their Saviour had been born.

“This will be the sign. Ye will find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger…. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

Isaiah proclaims in about 730 BC: “The ox knows its owner; and the donkey knows the manger (phatne) of its lord; but Israel has not known me.” (Isaiah 1: 3).

In the natural world things are self-evident, animals know their masters, in the human world, things are not so simple. Israel will not recognise God; while this should be natural, it is not.

In this Bethlehem shepherds’ narrative, the old vision of not-knowing is being reversed.

The manger is a word play in Isaiah. It is mentioned three times by Luke. Our attention is drawn to it. An old Hebrew word for manger is almost the same as Jerusalem.

I think the angels are saying:

“You shepherds unlike your predecessors can know Him, and it is in Jerusalem he will be found.”

So, having established that the angels want us to have our minds directed to Jerusalem, what about the swaddling clothes?

In Jerusalem, at its very heart, the putting on of the linen garments of the High Priest was of key significance. Indeed, the High Priest was swathed in linen. In the Temple there was a huge veil, an embroidered work of art. Behind that was another veil, made of linen. Only the priests could go behind the second veil, and to do so they had to be swathed in linen. In the earliest days of Solomon’s Temple, the Messianic King was set apart as a priest to perform those sacred rites as well.

We know from the psalms, that as kings were anointed in Israel, they were divinely begotten, in Jerusalem.

In the alleluia verse which heralded this evening’s Gospel, we have just heard the verse from the second Psalm, which speaks of the birth in the Temple of the Messiah. Along with the other nine so called “Royal Psalms” we can almost reconstruct the means by which a Davidic king, a Messiah, was reborn and would exercise their quasi-priestly functions in the Temple.

The elevation of the Messiah was a mystical consecration in the heart of the Temple. The identity of the one to be anointed was exchanged; their humanity was replaced. They were re-born; they became a representation of the divinity, which had both royal and priestly attributes.

In the first lesson, Isaiah’s promise of the birth of a son, who would be a wonderful counsellor, Divine Hero (the better translation from the Hebrew of “The mighty God”), Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace, refers directly to the ritual of begetting of a new Messiah. Isaiah is seeing not the birth of a child, but the anointing in the Temple in robes of linen of a new King, an everlasting Father and Prince of Peace.

In going to the manger, the shepherds were reversing the age-old misapprehension. Previously Israel had not known its Lord.

Now, the shepherds hasten to the manger/Jerusalem, where they find the one swathed in the linen of the High Priest, Saviour and King. But the words have played tricks on us. It IS a manger, and they are swaddling clothes. Utter holiness is not where it should be, but in a cave in Bethlehem.

On the sixth of May 2023, Charles, our Most Excellent King and Governor, will come to the collegiate church of St Peter of Westminster, Westminster Abbey. He will enter its precincts in red, the robes of a martyr, he will take the coronation oath, and he will be divested of all magnificence, and screened from view, the Archbishop will pour oil onto his head, breast and hands, just as we do in any baptism.  By actions which date back to the time of David and Solomon, King Charles will be anointed, and reborn. Following his crowning, the outward sign of the inner new reality, he will be lifted to a higher throne to receive the fealty of his subjects.

The King, in a rite which on these shores dates back to 973, will be re-begotten.

As his mother before him did for over 70 years, he will reign over us, as one set apart. Our age sets little store by sacraments and holiness, but this is the great treasure of the English inheritance. There is no constitution. There is only a coronation which acts as the once in a generational moment when all the institutions of Church and State are consecrated, seen in their true light.

It is as fragile as the one who wears the crown. It is at once human and divine.

As we celebrate the birth of the one and only true Lord and King, Jesus Christ, we pray that God may bless and consecrate our earthly sovereign as richly as he did the late Queen. And may the world be caught up in that rare moment of particular consecration.

The opening of John’s Gospel speaks of the word made flesh.

Forgive me if you heard me say this last year and the year before that and the year before that, but it bears re-telling every year:

When we take bread and wine at the Eucharist, the priest prays over the chalice as water is added:

By the mystery of this water and wine, may we share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity.

He exchanges his nature for ours, that we might exchange our nature for his.

At the very heart of the rites of the King’s anointing is embedded the same mystery. It is a consecration for us all, and points to the destiny of humanity.

Everyone’s favourite hymn writer Mrs Alexander grasped all of this in the last words of Once in Royal:

And He leads His children on
To the place where He is gone.

Not in that poor lowly stable,
With the oxen standing by.

We shall see Him; but in heaven,
Set at God’s right hand on high;
Where like stars His children crowned
All in white shall wait around.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I like to be organised, and wrote today’s sermon two weeks ago. I focused on Joseph.

And then William and Joanna sent me the orders of service, mentioning that we celebrate Mary today. Thus this past week left me rewriting everything from scratch!

But that’s great news, because I can now focus on two heroes, two great people from the Christmas story. But let us not forget, both of them point not to themselves, but only to Jesus.

Matthew’s account of the birth of Jesus brings out the role of Joseph. It makes a number of key points relevant to both him and Mary, but a major one is that Jesus’ father was not Joseph. We are told in v18 that the pregnancy happened before they lived together; v19 that Joseph’s character was full of integrity; v20 that the child is from God; v23 that Mary was a virgin; and v25 that Joseph did not have marital relations until after the birth.

In other words, Jesus’s origins are not from a frisky chap who had his wicked way with Mary! In that ancient culture, it would be quite difficult for a man to spend time alone with a woman before marriage – families were always present, and Mary would be protected by the males around her. Matthew’s point is that the child Jesus had origins from somewhere else. Nothing humans did. The child is given through the Holy Spirit of God.

The ancient Greeks had lots of stories about their deities seducing maidens. The demigods of Greek mythology were very often the products of a liaison between Zeus and a human woman he took a fancy to. So in the Greek mind, it would be normal for a deity to seduce a woman and impregnate her. But we need to remember that Matthew is Jewish: the Jews abhorred Greek religion, and to compare the holiness of Yahweh the God of Israel with the filthy Zeus would be a stoning offence!

This child was conceived by the Holy Spirit, but no sexual union is involved. The one who made the womb has just as easily given it life without the involvement of any human.

Now imagine you are Joseph: he is going to be pretty annoyed. He might be doing his business, making a bit of a name for himself, a proud upstanding member of the community, with a growing customer base, people trusting him because he’s honest and works hard.

And he’s found this great girl Mary, she’s attractive and he’s been able to do a great deal to make sure he’s the one who’s going to marry her. He’s delighted and thinking of how respectable he’s going to be: Joseph Esquire, with Mary his trophy wife: Carpenter to the King, Affordable hand-crafted excellence! And now it will be Joseph & Sons (or daughters!).

And then Mary says “Erm…I’m pregnant”… You can imagine Joseph’s shock and then fury. She has betrayed him. She has humiliated him. Couldn’t she have done this before they were engaged, before they want public, before wedding preparations had begun? She’s stabbed him in the back – but people will think he is the father! His reputation will go through the dirt! “Oh that’s Joseph, he couldn’t keep his urges under control”.

So to try and limit the reputational damage, he seeks to put her away quietly. But don’t forget, he’s not just a selfish guy, he is actually a good man, and he doesn’t want her to be disgraced. He does care for her. And as a good Jew, he’s following Deuteronomy 24:1, which says “if a wife has something objectionable, the husband can give her a certificate of divorce and send her away”. He’s trying to do the right thing in this mess.

But an angel appears and asks Joseph to do something else. “No Joseph, you are not to send this woman away. You are to marry her, but first she’s going to have a baby. And yes, everyone will think either you couldn’t keep yourself under control, or she’s been with another man. But tough. Your reputation doesn’t matter here. What matters is she has someone to care for her at her most vulnerable time. And that’s your job. You provide an element of protection in a hostile world as this woman brings into being a special child. Eat your pride, Joseph. Learn humility.”

By taking Mary as his wife, Joseph gave her safety. He gave her validity. And he brought all the shame on himself. What a hero. What an example of losing everything, all respect and societal honour, for the sake of a higher calling.

It is true to say that Matthew presents Joseph as the main actor, with Mary being much less passive. But at the end of today’s service, we have a section called The Angelus, in which we remember Mary’s role and recognise that throughout the previous 2000 years, she has inspired people and been much more of a focus than Joseph.

Poor Mary. She is very vulnerable in Matthew, subject to the decisions of those around her. And since then, she has been the subject of argument, not least in the Reformation. I very much grew up in a tradition that is suspicious of saints, Marian devotion, and all ‘Popery’! Yet when I was in Russia, an Orthodox believer asked me once, “Glen, would you ask me to pray for you in times of difficulty?” I said yes. He replied “Then why would you not ask a great Christian of the past to pray for you? For that person has run the race, won the prize, and is in new life with Christ. Surely a better person to intercede for you?”

It certainly made me think. Thankfully there have been many commissions that have studied the arguments between Catholics and Reformers, and a joint Catholic-Anglican commission came together to declare some foundations on which both churches agree: the prime one being that there is one Lord and saviour, Jesus Christ. Anything that places Mary in a salvation role is simply wrong. She was saved by her baby.

So where did the devotion to Mary come from that has so divided Christians? The answers lie in the early centuries after Christ. The Church was facing many intellectual attacks, one of which said Jesus just appeared to be a human.

No, the Church Fathers replied: he was fully human, of the same substance with his mother. And more than that, Jesus was the Word made flesh from conception. He was God incarnate united with human flesh in the womb. There was not a birth, and then the baby became God. Just as death was an event God went through in Jesus, so birth was an event God went through. That’s quite mind-blowing!

And thus, it is actually right to say that Mary is Theotokos. For the Greek word, Theotokos, means “she who gave birth to one who was God”. And that is what is meant when we say “Mother of God” – or more accurately, she was mother of God Incarnate, in other words, mother to Jesus Christ.

There has been much debate and argument over whether “Mother of God” is a good translation, because we do not mean she somehow begat God Almighty! But in her human role, she gave birth to and nurtured Jesus, who was in the Father, and the Father in him.

Maybe like me (still) you have some awkwardness at the The Angelus, but my way through it is to remember the meaning behind the words. The Angel said “Hail Mary: Greetings Mary”. We are not “hailing” her, we are repeating the words of the Angel in the King James Bible – hail means to greet. And when we say “Mother of God”, we refer to the fact that she gave birth to Jesus, and served him as mother.

The last line is “Pray for us, O holy Mother of God: That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ“. And that is what it’s all about. That we might be ready and prepared for his coming in our lives.

Mary was chosen. She was gifted the ultimate gift, but with it came so much burden and oh what shame! So many awkward questions. Yet she carried the child, cared for it, and received the ultimate blessing. Blessed is she among women, for she carried her saviour! She carried and nurtured the love of God.

Today let us remember Joseph and Mary. They both sacrificed reputation, future plans, and societal standing in order to be faithful to God’s calling.

This Christmas, God is calling us too. He’s calling us to be people in whom Christ can be born. He’s calling us to lay aside the trappings of this world and to be people among whom Jesus Christ can flourish.

That means sacrifice. It means faithfully loving and serving others, in the same way that a baby takes your time. We happily serve our babies, but do we also willingly visit elderly people who are suffering, lonely or dying? Do we surround them with love and comfort?

Do we pray faithfully for those we know who do not know Jesus as Lord and saviour? Do we model love, care, compassion and sacrifice in our homes? So that non-Christians can see our lives and ask “why do you live differently?”

Do we give faithfully of our money, to support those who have so little? Are we sure that our friends and family – and the homeless people in our vicinity – are being cared for and know they are loved?

Joseph and Mary are faith models for us, modelling the Christian life: one of dying to ourselves, and living for Jesus.

So let us honour Mary, let us honour Joseph, by living as they did: for the sake and glory of their Son.

 

Report on Anglican and Roman Catholic dialogue concerning Mary:

Mary-Grace-and-Hope-in-Christ_english.pdf (anglicancommunion.org)

 

In today’s Gospel reading we learn of John the Baptist appearing in the wilderness of Judea, calling upon people to repent and be baptized by him, confessing their sins.  Yet when the Jewish leaders, known as the Pharisees, appear, John dismisses them in their attempt to be baptized by him.  He says that they cannot be baptized until they ‘bear fruit worthy of repentance’.  It is not enough to claim Abraham as their ancestor; they must repent first.  This is a sharply worded attack on them, followed by a vitriolic statement that if they do not repent ‘they will be thrown into the fire’.

The root of this conflict with the Pharisees that prompts John’s call to them for repentance, is that they did not accept Jesus as the Messiah, authoritative in the law, possessing divine authority and one, by the time Matthew’s Gospel was written, who had risen from the dead.  Since they had failed to do so, John declares that they are ‘a brood of vipers’ who are in danger of meeting their end.  Using nature as a vehicle for his vitriol, John warns them that as they are as fruit, unworthy of repentance, the axe is lying at the root of the trees that bear this fruit; every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Nor, John warns them, will Jesus allow them to continue as the wheat will be gathered into the granary ‘but the chaff will burn with unquenchable fire’.

The sentence in this narrative that stands out in my mind as being the most savage is: ‘even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees’.  It is sad when a tree is cut down and, as we know from the current battle to save forests all over the world, the loss of trees does not help us towards a better climate nor encourage the continuance of certain species of wildlife.  There was a magnificent London plane tree that stood in the rear courtyard of my block of flats which was cut down and we then lost a magnificent manifestation of nature which was helping to keep pollution at bay.

Why then, with all that trees provide for us, would Matthew use this aspect of nature, albeit that we do not have to take his words literally?

To find the answer let us go back to the very beginning of the Bible, where we find Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.  They are told by God that they can eat freely of every tree in the Garden but of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil they shall not eat, for in the day that they eat of it they shall die. Unfortunately they do not obey God but choose to obey the serpent and eat of the fruit.  By this act of disobedience they are expelled from the Garden and left with all the pain and hazards of life to be engaged with.  This can be summed up in  the words ‘Paradise Lost’.

As we journey on through the Old Testament, there is, in spite of the expulsion from the Garden of Eden, a positive relationship with trees.  Sometimes beneficial, as Noah is able to create an ark from cypress wood to save him and his household and animals from the flood. The Ark of the Covenant with God with his people was made of acacia wood, as was the Altar of Incense for worship by the Israelites on their journey from Sinai to the promised land.  Yet once we get to the New Testament, the clouds gather.  In Matthew’s chapter 12 Jesus attacks the Pharisees in the same manner as John did; if the fruit is bad, the tree is bad and the Pharisees will be held to account for every careless word they utter on the Day of Judgement.  In chapter 21, having cleansed the Temple in a rage against the money changers, Jesus continues to be wrathful as he makes the fig tree wither that has not provided him with something to eat.

This stormy relationship comes to a head when Jesus is put to death on the wooden Cross, sometimes referred to as a tree. When he has breathed his last the curtain of the Temple was torn in two and ‘the earth shook and the rocks were split’.  This great moment, though, was not the end of our journey through the Bible with trees.  Not the end because in his death Jesus is paving the way for us to get back the Tree of Life that Adam and Eve lost sight of.  He is able to do this because, as Isaiah describes him, he is ‘a shoot from the stock of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots’.  This shoot, Isaiah tells us, will have the Spirit of the Lord on him and he will be there for the poor and the meek and in the end ‘the wolf shall live with the lamb’.

Success is revealed in the Book of Revelation when we know that the Tree of Life has not been lost to us.  It is on either side of the river of the water of life that flows through the New Jerusalem.  The Tree will produce its fruit each month and the leaves are for the healing of the nations.

Thus it is that the Bible begins and ends with this Tree of Life and that demonstrates that God’s covenant with us is a promise that can never be broken. No axe can fell it nor storm up root it.  It will help us to remember this when we go through the storms of life and keep in mind the rainbow that symbolises this covenant which is the symbol of hope for us all.

 

AMEN

Well here we are on the first day of advent, yet we start at the beginning by talking about the end!

I am standing here today largely because of “THE END TIMES”! I grew up in a home where there was great interest in the ‘signs of the times’, and my mum would often see something on the TV news and then say ominously “the Bible says something about that”.

And to a teenage boy, this is exciting stuff! Combining world events with ancient scriptures is actually quite good fun! I’ve heard it said that the tanks going into Iraq would, to an ancient prophet, look like locusts. Plenty of prophecies about locusts in the Bible!

And that Saddam Hussein had the spirit of Nebuchadnezzar, and his rise to power was a sign of the end. History unfortunately disproved that one.

I also heard that China is the dragon from the book of Revelation, because dragons are important in Chinese folklore… and more oddly, that Madonna, and then Britney Spears, are the “whores of Babylon”!!!

I loved this stuff, and it got me into the bible, into reading more and onto the long process that led me to finding that things were more complicated than I had previously thought. I came to realise that, as much as all of that speculation is fascinating and great for hypothetical creative discussion, it is basically entirely down to an individual’s imagination. The same event can be matched to numerous scriptures if your mind is creative enough, and any possible outcome deduced as prophecy.

This frustrated me, because I do want to know what the Bible is actually saying! If the scriptures of God are to mean anything consistent, then there must be an objective way of reading them rather than a random subjective way! This process led me into proper bible study and began a process leading to church ministry.

And so we find in Chapter 24 that Jesus Christ has something to say on the matter of “the end times”, and a close reading of the gospel of Matthew brings a big disappointment to those “reading the signs”, but also a big warning to us.

Chapter 24 of Matthew is answering two questions posed at the beginning. The first one is “When will all the stones of the temple be thrown down?”. The second is “What will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?”. Most of Chapter 24 answers the first question. Indeed, Jesus actually says “Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place.” And he’s talking about the apocalyptic destruction of the Jerusalem Temple.

That temple, which includes stones that weigh an estimated 500 tons, was the glory of Israel. David had prepared it; Solomon had built it; God had consecrated it; and God had promised his presence would be there. But as Israel’s complacency grew, God’s presence departed the temple and Israel fell into captivity.

But then came change – a new Persian ruler, a decree allowing them to return home, and the passionate desire that this time will be different. The exiles returned to Jerusalem and began rebuilding the city. Yet it should have rung alarm bells that much of the temple was reconstructed by a cruel, selfish egomaniac called Herod the Great. This man was very clearly not in the line of David or Solomon.

As Herod’s reign came to an end, a baby was born in the north of Israel, a son was given. Foreign kings came to worship him, but the political leaders tried to kill him. The boy became a man and told people that he was the new temple; that God was among then, in him. And he brought life, and healing and sustenance and direction to all he met.

But the leaders of this Herodian temple, in collaboration with the pagan power of Rome, killed the man who was God’s temple. Yet that did not make the problems go away. As well as an annoying group of people who insisted that this Jesus had come back to life and that they had seen and met him, there were wider issues. Roman oppression was resulting in uprisings, and soon Israel was in revolt against Rome.

To end it all, General Vespasian marched from the north, down through Israel, razing the country. He was called away to Rome to become Emperor halfway through the job, but his son Titus finished the work. Jerusalem was destroyed, and the prophecy of Jesus fulfilled.

But our reading today comes after the destruction of Jerusalem. Now Jesus is answering the second question, shown clearly when he says “But about that day”, contrasting it to the other, earlier ‘day’. And about “that, later” day, Jesus says very clearly: NO ONE KNOWS THE DAY OR THE HOUR. No angel knows. On earth, in his submission, humbling of himself before his Father, and identification with us humans, not even Jesus knew. It was a secret hidden with the Father.

No one knows the day or the hour. Just like in the times of Noah, people will be going about life. Buying, selling, trading, marrying, divorcing, partying, mourning. Two people will be working in a field, but one will be saved, the other not.

The point, therefore, is KEEP AWAKE. Keep yourself alert. Keep your light burning. Keep your clothes on. Keep your guard up. Don’t get slack. Don’t let your behaviour fall. Stand firm, resist the pull of lethargy, the temptation to compromise!

The first people who heard this were wondering when Christ would return. The message is clear: no one knows. But so too is the message: don’t get lazy.

In Matthew’s gospel, much teaching has been given on how the followers of Jesus should be living – see the Sermon on the Mount – and so we have plenty to guide us. The key, then, is in consistency.

One person has become lazy, she goes into the field having stopped charitable contributions, having given up praying for watching more TV instead, having neglected those in her family who need comfort and help, having put her trust in her bank account more than in God. She has plenty of spare time, but uses it all to shop and consume, never once calling her elderly relatives.

The other person remembers to visit her elderly friend, and calls her parents regularly. She gives to those in need when she can, and practices prayer and bible reading, reflecting on how she can grow spiritually. She enjoys time relaxing with the TV, but is wise to discern what is beneficial and what is not, and she makes sure she uses her time profitably. When she can, she visits those who are suffering and helps with a homeless ministry.

One of these ladies has kept awake. One of these ladies is alert. One of them has the candle burning. One of them has her guard up. One of them will be saved.

The message today is make sure you are that one. Don’t be side-tracked by worldly distractions. Make sure your heart is fixated on the important things, the things of eternal value.

For the end will come, and when it comes, will you or I be found alert, looking for our saviour, or will we be so lost in distractions that we are found to be of no use for the eternal king?

There is certainly a lot to remember this year, especially with the passing of HM the Queen, herself a war veteran, and the ascendency to the throne of King Charles III, who has experience in all three services. And it will be to the war in which the Queen served that I will refer later.

I’ve not served in the armed forces except for a 2 week placement with the chaplain of the British Army’s 5 Rifles, which included the amazing experience of waking up on a foggy morning in Norfolk surrounded by boxes marked “grenades”.

For me personally it’s hard to comprehend that this time last year I was in Moscow. Diplomats, ambassadors and defence attaches from embassies across the city converged on St Andrew’s, where we remembered those who gave their tomorrow so that we could have today.

Those memories are confusing and mixed. I stood there in Moscow, knowing just how proud my father would have been. He would always stand for the two minutes silence, being part of that generation born after the war, living in the shadow of an event so huge that they could never quite live up to it. His father – my grandfather – had served in World War Two, yet like most of that generation, rarely spoke of it.

As we observed the silence, I was aware of the privilege of helping to lead worship in front of such a prestigious crowd. Yet we were all completely unaware of what was brewing half-a-mile away in the Kremlin. Today, one year later, so many lives have been destroyed by those decisions. I had no idea of the implications of those decisions for me personally: because of that war, since March I have slept in 14 different beds, averaging one new bed every 3 weeks!

Yet millions of people have suffered much worse. Homes and livelihoods destroyed. Unemployment and enforced migration. One month living in your own house; the next living as a refugee, dependent on the goodwill of others. And for many more, there was a son, a brother, a father – and then there was not. How many soldiers have been called to the frontline, willingly or not, and then, before they’ve had the chance to even understand why they are there, the war for them ends. A bomb. A missile. A grenade. A drone. A bullet. And their war is over – another coffin returns, another family is devastated.

I want to take us back to Moscow last year and the Remembrance Service there. The Reverend Malcolm Rogers, still chaplain in Moscow, gave another of his brilliant sermons. All his sermons are powerful and provoking, produced by a humble, passionate man of prayer and biblical study. But this one has stayed with me beyond the others, and so today I will blatantly plagiarise much of his sermon!

Malcolm preached on the Arctic Convoys. To help Soviet Russia in its fight against Hitler, Britain and the allied forces sent convoys across the freezing arctic to supply the USSR. Churchill described the convoys as the “world’s worst journey” – through freezing waters, with sub-zero cutting winds, facing mountainous waves on ships weighed down by thick pack ice on them, the crew sleeping in their coats to keep warm, and all with the threat of U-boats waiting to torpedo your ship.

Then Malcom introduced us to some people who were on those convoys. There was Anderson. He was 17 years old, an American cabin boy on convoy PQ13 in 1942. His ship got lost from the main convoy and was torpedoed. Anderson spent 4 days in a lifeboat at minus 20 before a Russian minesweeper picked them up. Many others had died in the boat from exposure. On the minesweeper, a Russian nurse tried to help Anderson, but when she peeled off his shirt she saw his skin was dead and blackened from the waist down, and he was unable to bend. He died shortly afterwards.

And there was Russell Harrison Bennett, a Canadian who had been on a ship when it was hit and exploded. He had been badly lacerated but was rescued. Then his rescue ship was hit by a torpedo. He survived the lifeboat but died of his injuries on the next ship to collect him. The nurse commented that he never moaned and was a wonderful cheery patient.

For Anderson and for Russell, we ask: what was the point? Anderson was 17. He had just started, and then was dead. As with D-Day – how many were shot before they even put a foot on those beaches? What was their contribution? And Afghanistan – all that work and then the politicians abandon the country. What was it for? And now with Russian and Ukrainian soldiers – so many Russians didn’t even know why they were driving to Kyiv in aging machinery before a rocket ended them. What is the point? Did Anderson and Russell mean anything?

In the gospel reading today, Jesus was talking about wars and rumours of war, and about having family members betray you, and about being persecuted – even to the point of being executed. These words are more and more relevant in today’s world, but were very true 2000 years ago. Family members betraying you. The state hunting you. The leaders you were listening to one week, being torn apart by wild animals in front of baying mobs of Romans just one week later. Those Christians would be tempted to ask: what is the point? Did we mean anything? Against the might of Nero, or his modern incarnations, do our sacrifices make a difference?

We would tell Anderson and Russell that they mattered. Their service helped, in a tiny way, bring about the downfall of Hitler. And to the Christians who died in Rome, we present ourselves. We meet today representing that same faith, while Nero is regarded as a crazy aberration who is (thankfully) history. We meet in freedom, while Imperial Rome is a museum piece. The thousands or millions of nameless Christians who listened to Jesus’ words may not have felt their contribution was meaningful. Yet we are here, and Rome is not.

And the key to all this? Listen to Jesus’ words: verse 8 “Many will come and say I am he – do not go after them”. Verse 9 “When you hear of wars, do not be terrified”. Verse 12-13 “They will arrest you – this will give you an opportunity to testify!” Verse 15 “I will give you words”. And verse 19 “By your endurance you will gain your souls”.

Jesus is telling his followers to remain steady. Root yourselves in the good news message, in the promise that those who remain faithful will be those who are saved.

What are the pressures we face? We might not face physical persecution, but we do face many other pressures. For most of us, they are the ideas of this age, the waves of new philosophy and the oceans of new social pressures.

We must discern the messages of politicians, and the messages in the media and in global advertising – these subtle forces that shape how we think. Is it really of God, or is it leading us astray? “Do not go after them”, said Jesus.

We are here because of those Christians who remained stable, who were faithful to the message and didn’t chase new ideas. Their faithful, quiet service, resilience and dedication; their acts of love, resistance and kindness are the acts that have truly shaped history.

So let us emulate them. Let us listen to the words of Jesus and stand firm, remembering we are the custodians of the Christian message today in this generation.

Let us rededicate ourselves to the message that God loves us, and calls all humans to repent from their own ways, to turn from their sins, and to begin walking with Jesus as his disciples.

Jesus calls us to sacrifice our desires and become more like him. To seek peace. And as we do that, in God’s hands, these small acts become the acts that overthrow empires.

And in his great mercy, on judgement day it will be the compassion of the nurse who treated Anderson that will be remembered.

It will be the doctor who treated Russell. It will be the Christians who were thrown to lions, yet who rather than renounce their faith and cry to the emperor, quietly embraced Jesus in their final moments.

Today, Remembrance Sunday, let us remember and honour those who have stood against evil.

Let us remind ourselves that God’s justice will prevail.

And let us commit ourselves to standing firm against evil and firm for the message of Christ in our generation.

And let us remember that remembrance means nothing if it does not change our actions.

The name we give to this particular Sunday is ‘Christ the King’.  This to affirm that, in spite of the mockery of Jesus by the religious leaders and soldiers that we find in today’s Gospel reading and the insult of the inscription ‘This is the King of the Jews’ over the head of Jesus on the Cross, Jesus is for us the King.

What makes him King for us?  As he was there for the outsider, the poor and the sick, we can name him as the King of love.  This love embraces the repentant sinner too, as can be noted from today’s Gospel reading when the criminal being crucified alongside Jesus acknowledges his wrong doing and says that ‘Jesus has done nothing wrong’. Jesus replies ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise’.

So from his earthly existence we can say that Jesus represents inclusion and forgiveness, all in the name of love.  He is also King of obedience.  Obedience to God’s will as he endures the agony on the cross to save us all from the power of sin.

Let us look a bit closer at this release from the power of sin.  Why does the death of Jesus by crucifixion, a punishment meted out to criminals at that time, have this massive impact?’

We know that after his death Jesus was laid in, as Luke describes it, ‘a rock-hewn tomb’ but then he rose from the dead to sit at the right hand of God.  We then have the formulation of the Trinity of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit.  The Trinity is our hope and salvation.

How, though, specifically, does this death and resurrection relate to release from the power of sin?  I find an answer in a Commentary on Luke by James Woodward, Paula Gooder and Mark Pryce, when Jesus says to the criminal alongside him ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise’.  The word ‘Paradise’ holds the key to explaining what is meant by releasing us from the power of sin.  It does so because, as the Commentary gives it, in Jewish thinking Paradise was traditionally associated with the Garden of Eden.  After Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden as sinners who have disobeyed God’s will, the Garden was shut up and would only be opened at end times when those who were raised from the dead would be able to eat of the Tree of Life and live forever.  The death of Jesus marks the beginning of the end times when Paradise was re-opened and humanity could be saved.

So we are saved from the power of sin, which originated in the Garden of Eden, because the door to the Garden, long shut by the fall of Adam and Eve, is blown open by the crucifixion.

The death of Jesus, then, marks the beginning of the end times which is, to quote Shakespeare, ‘a consummation devoutly to be wished’.  This wish is never more stronger than it is now while we battle with so many issues at once; the pandemic, war, poverty and climate change to name but a few.  Yet in this battle we can, I believe, take heart in two ways.

One is that when times are hard everything feels reduced and this can make us feel uncertain, anxious and depressed.  If though, we look at what happens in creation, reduction can be followed by a bursting forth of new life.  I think here of the tiny spot we call ‘the singularity’ which marked the beginning of the universe.  Or the contractions of a woman in labor before new life is born into the world. So reduction is not the end of the affair and has been with us in nature since the beginning of time.

When there is a reduction in human affairs, it happens because economic difficulty has prompted a shutting down of amenities and facilities that have sustained us in various ways. The pathways we have taken for granted have been blocked and this can make everything feel a bit unnatural.  We can take comfort though in that shutting down is in nature.  Animals hibernate in the winter and the ground is laid bare, awaiting new life to appear.  When we are shut down we have time to reflect, refresh and re-evaluate our priorities.  We do not want a time of withdrawal to last for too long so we explore ways of opening up again, maybe new ways.  To use the well-worn phrase: ‘as God shuts a door, he opens a window’.

This exploration to find ways forward reflects our faith in that we are, if you like, imitating Jesus in continuing on the rocky terrain until we find the path once more.  As Jesus had, in his death, the key to the door of Paradise, so we can seek ways of opening doors in our earthly life as a sign of our continuing trust in God.

If we look at the Bible text from beginning to end, we know that in spite of centuries of troubles, God has the power to re-open the door for us as our loving Creator.  The door to our salvation, having been opened by the death on the Cross, is un shuttable.  The joy of that re-opening completely defeats the Crucifixion in Golgotha, being ‘the place of the skull’.

So we need to keep our hearts and minds open to the possibility of a better future and not let evil purpose make us cower in the corner.  Rather, let us move forward in faith for our sakes and the sake of generations to come.

 

AMEN

 

From II Timothy 3: v. 14 “…continue thou in the things which thou has
learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou has learned
them.”
And from Luke 18: v.1 “And he spake a parable unto them to this end,
that men ought always to pray and not to faint.”
Welcome to St Mark’s on the 18th Sunday after Trinity, feeling perhaps a
bit shaky after the week’s fresh crash-landing of the ship of state deep
into unfavourable times. On any given day it may feel that injustice,
intransigence, and flat-out evil are winning, at home or abroad…and
there is nothing you can do about it. But take heart, for you are
gathered in the home of good news, where it is my honour to serve up
Luke’s heart-warming of parable of persistent prayer’s power to deliver
justice as taught by Jesus on his final journey to Jerusalem, with the
robust complement of Paul’s final letter penned in Roman
imprisonment. Here is Paul’s spiritual last will and testament with its
admonition to cherish and preach God’s word as sole defence from the
fake news of the day, more poetically described in Timothy 2: 2-4 as a
lust to satisfy itching ears with fables instead of God’s truth. We are in
familiar, existentially threatening territory, and have ever been. The
good news is that more than relief is at hand; the kingdom of the Living
God is as well.
Parables encapsulate Jesus’ rabbinical teaching throughout Luke’s
gospel, where some 40 distinct illustrations of faith and salvation are
illuminated by vivid, often strange narratives and characters. Today’s
parable is unique to Luke’s gospel and features an Importunate Widow
and an Unjust Judge, depicted on the cover of your order of service: a
woman so urgent and overbearing in her pleading that she breaches the
indifference and privilege of a Judge who boasts he cares not for God
or for people. She earns redress not by shaming him, not be causing
him to care or reform his ways, but by wearing him down, by literally
staying “in his face” so that he fears for his own well-being should he
continue to withhold the remedy she seeks. Although he has armed
force at his shoulder, she is fearless, invading his personal space.
Before he launches into narrative, Jesus introduces this dense text of 8
verses following hard on the heels of warnings of the trials and
difficulties that face the disciples during the time between Christ’s
ascension and return to establish his kingdom on earth. Their survival
as Christians depends upon steadfast prayer: in the KJV “not to faint”
ie, to NOT falter, to persist, to carry on without ceasing; in the New
English Translation, not to “lose heart”. He longs to hear them praying
with passionate faith in preparation for his return and knows how hard it
will be to choose Christ, prepare for his kingdom, honour the eternal
truth that persistent prayer is essential to maintain connection with God.
Prayer is the bridge that builds faith and promotes spiritual
development and preparation. Its power resides simply in steadfast
and honest practice.
Is the message to keep pestering God until he relents? Is it a “numbers
game? Is prayer the medium of satisfying personal demands? Hardly.
In that case, the Unjust Judge would represent the Almighty and clearly
that is not Jesus’ intention. It contradicts all we know about God’s
nature as a generous and loving father. Besides, the Unjust Judge
puts us more in mind of behaviour we experience at the hands of those
with earthly power who use it for their own benefit, without much care
for its consequences or morality, who withhold or frustrate justice. We
hear a self-justifying soliloquy from the Judge; the only speech from the
Widow is a simple and repeated plea for justice: “avenge me of my
adversary”.
The capitulation of the Judge follows a rabbinical principle set out by
the scholar Hillel in the first century called Kol Wahomer, or what is true
in a matter lighter or lesser is also true in something heavier or greater.
Persistence in prayer builds faith, resilience, and character; deepens
relationship with God to prepare the way for the kingdom to come,
bearing the gift of perfect justice. For if a corrupt Judge will grant justice
to a lone woman, how much more will God bestow justice for those he
loves? Accordingly, the Widow symbolises those who are marginalised
and disadvantaged crying out for redress here and now, who triumphs
through the intimate power of persistent prayer, ceaseless communion
with God that can redeem the fallen world, prayer by prayer,
transforming the one who seeks him.
As exceptional by report as in this artist’s depiction, the Importunate
Widow is one of only four female heroes mentioned in the entire New
Testament, two of whom feature in the book of Luke. Often described
as the “gospel of womanhood” as early as the 19th century in writings of
English theologian Albert Plummer, Luke’s scripture bears witness to
the constant presence and significance of women and girls in Jesus’
life, his works, his death and resurrection, and the early church.
We marvel at the widow’s unwavering demand for justice and for what
is right, despite being unprotected and isolated by her status in the
society of Jesus’ time. Although the principle of protecting the
vulnerable was asserted in the Torah: “You shall not ill-treat any widow
or orphan. If you do mistreat them, I will heed their cry as soon as they
cry out to Me, and My anger shall blaze forth …(Exodus 22:21-2, as one
example); in practice, then as now, receiving support is variable and
dependant on circumstances and characters involved.
Luke also portrays the Son of Man as one who reaches out to sinners,
the marginalised, stigmatised, and shunned, offering them his teaching
and healing: his parables are shaped for their instruction and to sustain
them once he no longer walks the earth. Jesus exercises a social
awareness throughout his earthy mission; he also has a consistent and
passionate practice of prayer, frequently withdrawing to a hilltop to
renew his strength and connection with the Almighty. In both aspects,
he models an ethical way of life sustained by faithful connection
through prayer. Both components are necessary.
Little wonder then that all 3 parables about prayer are found in Luke’s
account. Far from bending God to our will and desires, prayer is our one
means of participating with God, sensing, and occasionally glimpsing
the staggering breadth and compassion of his plan. It removes us for
an eternal moment from the constraints of being solely ourselves, alone,
and re-joins us to the creative power sustaining all life, forever.
Prayer is the beating heart of a faith so persistent and natural it
becomes like breathing, an umbilical cord sustaining life until believers
themselves can behold salvation… like Luke’s report of Simeon and
Anna, aged and worn in the service of God and anticipation of the
Messiah, who rejoice that their prayers are answered in the baby Jesus
Christ. Their persistence has allowed them to share God’s eternal
perspective and resist the temptation to give up on this one simple and
essential act so difficult for humans to sustain. Particularly when faith
does not see any answers because of praying and injustice dominates
the day.
The lord Jesus taught us to pray to remind us of a gift already given – of
ever-present justice and love that walked the road to Calvary, by whose
grace we are accompanied every day and tomorrow. Persistence in
bringing whatever is present in our hearts and lives to God’s attention
affirms our relationship, reminds us of what we know to be true – that
he is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love and
forgiveness, the source of true justice.
The liturgy of the book of common prayer asks God to give justice, to
save us. And please to hurry up about it. Of course, this divine promise
IS granted, both within the stretch of divine time unfolding towards
maximum redemption, and right now, in persistent prayer that cries out
for justice and return to righteousness. When justice seekers are all
sinners, there cannot be purely good or bad humans (although pure evil
was unleashed at the fall), so no perfect outcome is possible at our sole
agency.
Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn notes from profound experience as a Russian
dissident writer raised a persecuted Christian in Soviet Russia, who
subsequently lost his faith and then returned to it “ If I were asked today
to formulate …what was the main cause of the ruinous revolution that
swallowed up some 60 millions of our people, I could not put it more
accurately than to repeat: “Men had forgotten God…the dividing line of
evil cuts through the heart of every human being.”
That is why our prayers must not be performance, must not provide a
mask: they arise from genuine celebration and delight at the good
works of God and aspirational ones of man, as an authentic expression
and as the constructive response to an existential necessity….an
exercise of faith in the Unseen and the Not Yet But Longed For. As C S
Lewis writes “We must lay before him what is in us; not what ought to
be in us… I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking
and sleeping. It doesn’t change God. It changes me.” Hopeful news.
Good news. Amen.

There is certainly a lot to remember this year, especially with the passing of HM the Queen, herself a war veteran, and the ascendency to the throne of King Charles III, who has experience in all three services. And it will be to the war in which the Queen served that I will refer later.

I’ve not served in the armed forces except for a 2 week placement with the chaplain of the British Army’s 5 Rifles, which included the amazing experience of waking up on a foggy morning in Norfolk surrounded by boxes marked “grenades”.

For me personally it’s hard to comprehend that this time last year I was in Moscow. Diplomats, ambassadors and defence attaches from embassies across the city converged on St Andrew’s, where we remembered those who gave their tomorrow so that we could have today.

Those memories are confusing and mixed. I stood there in Moscow, knowing just how proud my father would have been. He would always stand for the two minutes silence, being part of that generation born after the war, living in the shadow of an event so huge that they could never quite live up to it. His father – my grandfather – had served in World War Two, yet like most of that generation, rarely spoke of it.

As we observed the silence, I was aware of the privilege of helping to lead worship in front of such a prestigious crowd. Yet we were all completely unaware of what was brewing half-a-mile away in the Kremlin. Today, one year later, so many lives have been destroyed by those decisions. I had no idea of the implications of those decisions for me personally: because of that war, since March I have slept in 14 different beds, averaging one new bed every 3 weeks!

Yet millions of people have suffered much worse. Homes and livelihoods destroyed. Unemployment and enforced migration. One month living in your own house; the next living as a refugee, dependent on the goodwill of others. And for many more, there was a son, a brother, a father – and then there was not. How many soldiers have been called to the frontline, willingly or not, and then, before they’ve had the chance to even understand why they are there, the war for them ends. A bomb. A missile. A grenade. A drone. A bullet. And their war is over – another coffin returns, another family is devastated.

I want to take us back to Moscow last year and the Remembrance Service there. The Reverend Malcolm Rogers, still chaplain in Moscow, gave another of his brilliant sermons. All his sermons are powerful and provoking, produced by a humble, passionate man of prayer and biblical study. But this one has stayed with me beyond the others, and so today I will blatantly plagiarise much of his sermon!

Malcolm preached on the Arctic Convoys. To help Soviet Russia in its fight against Hitler, Britain and the allied forces sent convoys across the freezing arctic to supply the USSR. Churchill described the convoys as the “world’s worst journey” – through freezing waters, with sub-zero cutting winds, facing mountainous waves on ships weighed down by thick pack ice on them, the crew sleeping in their coats to keep warm, and all with the threat of U-boats waiting to torpedo your ship.

Then Malcom introduced us to some people who were on those convoys. There was Anderson. He was 17 years old, an American cabin boy on convoy PQ13 in 1942. His ship got lost from the main convoy and was torpedoed. Anderson spent 4 days in a lifeboat at minus 20 before a Russian minesweeper picked them up. Many others had died in the boat from exposure. On the minesweeper, a Russian nurse tried to help Anderson, but when she peeled off his shirt she saw his skin was dead and blackened from the waist down, and he was unable to bend. He died shortly afterwards.

And there was Russell Harrison Bennett, a Canadian who had been on a ship when it was hit and exploded. He had been badly lacerated but was rescued. Then his rescue ship was hit by a torpedo. He survived the lifeboat but died of his injuries on the next ship to collect him. The nurse commented that he never moaned and was a wonderful cheery patient.

For Anderson and for Russell, we ask: what was the point? Anderson was 17. He had just started, and then was dead. As with D-Day – how many were shot before they even put a foot on those beaches? What was their contribution? And Afghanistan – all that work and then the politicians abandon the country. What was it for? And now with Russian and Ukrainian soldiers – so many Russians didn’t even know why they were driving to Kyiv in aging machinery before a rocket ended them. What is the point? Did Anderson and Russell mean anything?

In the gospel reading today, Jesus was talking about wars and rumours of war, and about having family members betray you, and about being persecuted – even to the point of being executed. These words are more and more relevant in today’s world, but were very true 2000 years ago. Family members betraying you. The state hunting you. The leaders you were listening to one week, being torn apart by wild animals in front of baying mobs of Romans just one week later. Those Christians would be tempted to ask: what is the point? Did we mean anything? Against the might of Nero, or his modern incarnations, do our sacrifices make a difference?

We would tell Anderson and Russell that they mattered. Their service helped, in a tiny way, bring about the downfall of Hitler. And to the Christians who died in Rome, we present ourselves. We meet today representing that same faith, while Nero is regarded as a crazy aberration who is (thankfully) history. We meet in freedom, while Imperial Rome is a museum piece. The thousands or millions of nameless Christians who listened to Jesus’ words may not have felt their contribution was meaningful. Yet we are here, and Rome is not.

And the key to all this? Listen to Jesus’ words: verse 8 “Many will come and say I am he – do not go after them”. Verse 9 “When you hear of wars, do not be terrified”. Verse 12-13 “They will arrest you – this will give you an opportunity to testify!” Verse 15 “I will give you words”. And verse 19 “By your endurance you will gain your souls”.

Jesus is telling his followers to remain steady. Root yourselves in the good news message, in the promise that those who remain faithful will be those who are saved.

What are the pressures we face? We might not face physical persecution, but we do face many other pressures. For most of us, they are the ideas of this age, the waves of new philosophy and the oceans of new social pressures.

We must discern the messages of politicians, and the messages in the media and in global advertising – these subtle forces that shape how we think. Is it really of God, or is it leading us astray? “Do not go after them”, said Jesus.

We are here because of those Christians who remained stable, who were faithful to the message and didn’t chase new ideas. Their faithful, quiet service, resilience and dedication; their acts of love, resistance and kindness are the acts that have truly shaped history.

So let us emulate them. Let us listen to the words of Jesus and stand firm, remembering we are the custodians of the Christian message today in this generation.

Let us rededicate ourselves to the message that God loves us, and calls all humans to repent from their own ways, to turn from their sins, and to begin walking with Jesus as his disciples.

Jesus calls us to sacrifice our desires and become more like him. To seek peace. And as we do that, in God’s hands, these small acts become the acts that overthrow empires.

And in his great mercy, on judgement day it will be the compassion of the nurse who treated Anderson that will be remembered.

It will be the doctor who treated Russell. It will be the Christians who were thrown to lions, yet who rather than renounce their faith and cry to the emperor, quietly embraced Jesus in their final moments.

Today, Remembrance Sunday, let us remember and honour those who have stood against evil.

Let us remind ourselves that God’s justice will prevail.

And let us commit ourselves to standing firm against evil and firm for the message of Christ in our generation.

And let us remember that remembrance means nothing if it does not change our actions.

From Job 19: 26 & 27 “…yet in my flesh shall I see God: Whom I shall
see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another;”
And
From St. Luke 20: 36 “…Neither can they die anymore: for they are
equal unto the angels; and are the children of God, being the children of
the resurrection.”

Welcome to the third Sunday before Advent; in some years it falls on
Remembrance Sunday, and in most years, it is chilly and damp, today
being no exception to the rule. In comparison, the spiritual weather on
offer is rather dazzling, as the readings invite us to remember the living
God, present to us throughout our life even in times of suffering and
uncertainty; the living God who bestows eternal life through the gift of his
sacrificed and risen son, Jesus Christ; the living God who ministers to
and through us by the holy spirit. As if that is not sufficiently marvellous,
both Old Testament Job and New Testament Luke assert and claim the
certainty of life after death. Christians, in a word: resurrection, a core
doctrine traceable back to Exodus, through the Prophets and the psalms
of David to its fulfilment in the New Testament, which creates and
sustains an unbreakable bond between God and his children of the
resurrection.

Think back to “The Week that Changed Everything”, our play for Passion
Sunday this year. In Luke chapter 20, we return to Wednesday the 13th
of Nisan, Jesus’ final day of preaching in the Temple before his Last
Supper, arrest, and Good Friday sacrifice upon the cross. Jesus, never
one to shy away from disputation, combines his popular preaching with
actual rampage within Temple courts, knowing all the while that these
religious and community leaders were united in one aim: to destroy him.
Those are Luke’s very words. Their blood-thirsty determination to cling
onto power and privilege was factored into God’s plan. Jesus knew this,
as do we in retrospect; the scribes and pharisees, high priests and
Sadduces did not. From the beginning of the chapter, they keep gunning
for him, trying to undermine his authority and trap him saying something
legally actionable…something to turn the crowds against him.
Back at the Temple on Wednesday, the elders and priests are no match
for Jesus, who ignores the shabby flattery of their approach and turns
their thinly veiled attacks aside. He wields a pointed parable about
greedy and dishonest husbandmen punished by the freeholder of the
vineyard with its utter destruction. The throng to whom he preached
knew exactly whom he was describing as vines symbolise the Hebrew
nation and its fruitful union with God; Josephus the first century historian
described a massive golden vine decorating the soaring entrance to the
Temple Sanctuary. The people also understood that vinedressers or
husbandmen represent its leaders. Though angry at the public ridicule,
those leaders feared for their safety if they moved against the
troublesome rabbi.

Up step the Pharisees, certain they have him in their sights with a tricky
question: is it lawful to give tribute unto Caesar? Jesus easily disarms
their cunning plan by distinguishing between debts owed to society no
matter how unwelcome and unjust (as in the form of taxes levied by
Caesar, paid in coins bearing his image) and the worship due to God.
The crowd approved of his answer, so the pharisees were also forced to
hold their peace.

By the time we arrive at today’s text, Jesus faces heavy guns, the
Sadducees, arguably the most influential of the cabal of religious and
civic authorities operating in 1st century Jerusalem. Roman authority
denied them the power of life or death, which must have galled and
made them even more strict. It also made them cunning in framing
events to obtain the Romans’ approval; Ciaphus the High Priest and
Sadducee member of the Council provides a textbook example of how
both sets of laws and processes could be manipulated.
Ultra conservative, Sadducees populated the top echelons of the elite,
enforcing a legal code based solely on the law of Moses as set out in the
5 books of the written Torah– the Pentateuch (Genesis, Exodus,
Leviticus, Numbers & Deuteronomy). They ruled out the writings of the
prophets – all 8 books – Isiah, Jeremiah, the lot: as well as any further
interpretation of the law in 11 books of Writings including Psalms,
Proverbs, and Job. They excised angels, direct contact with God whilst
alive or a positive afterlife. Resurrection was a heresy. Upon death, the
soul alone was consigned deep within the earth, in Sheol, a murky
underworld. This rather narrowed their focus to the here and now and
made a priority of obtaining and retaining the best before the game was
up. In the meantime, the authoritative word of God was a one and done
offer. And they were the ones best placed to understand, uphold, and
enforce it.

Which gives rise to a mini side-sermon: on a recent Radio 4 report on
mid-term elections in the US, I was horrified to hear precisely the same
arguments from right wing Republicans: an assertion of a particular edit
of the Bible as the source of authority and national success. And that
they were the ones best placed to understand, uphold, and enforce it. In
the 1st century, one as turbulent and divided as our own 21st, the
Sadducees and their allies presided over the fall of a great nation, and
destruction of much of its heritage. Here in our country, right wing
ideology – though far from centred on scripture however cynically, or the
worship of anything but power and money and the imperial past – has
produced profound degradation of the environment, rising inequality and
deprivation, dangerous levels of debt, and damage to our standing in the
global community. Of course, alternative analyses are available.
Where and whenever practiced, self-proclaimed righteousness and
authority produce results far removed from the everlasting holiness,
endless love and mercy, creative and transformative power of God that
Jesus preached. To the Sadducees, he was blasphemous in his
emphasis on love and forgiveness over law and deeds; by his
association with known sinners; his neglect of ritual cleansing in favour
of one permanent baptism; his habit of healing and helping the poor,
diseased and disabled on the Sabbath. These acts were an affront and
it now fell to them to bring him down – starting with an ad absurdum
assault on the fallacy of resurrection.

They begin by referring to a portion of Deuteronomy concerning laws of
human relations as they apply to the duty of a husband’s brother. Should
a married brother die and leave a childless widow, an unmarried brother
must take the widow in levirate marriage (from the Latin for brother-inlaw).
For this to happen even occasionally, with weight of a legal
obligation, seems strange enough to us. But in the days of full-on
patriarchy, the practice was intended to prevent extinction of the family
and loss of family property; hopefully, also to provide protection for the
widow. One objective is met by producing children of a levirate
marriage. But first, the deceased husband’s property literally must be
paid for to return it to the inheritance of the family, or else it was forfeit
and the widow dispossessed. Enter the Go’el or Kinsman Redeemer,
who must be a blood relative through the father’s line, be able to pay the
price in full AND be willing to fulfil the obligation. Doesn’t this sound like
the very model of our redeemer? … As described in law around 1400
BC before the Israelites entered the Promised Land!
We also have a happy and significant example of the go’el in the story of
Ruth, a Moabite widow of a Jewish man and devoted daughter-in-law to
Naomi, who advises her to make a levirate marriage to Boaz from the
blood family of Ruth’s late husband. This union results in Ruth being one
of only five women mentioned in Jesus’ genealogy as recorded in St.
Matthew, which asserts Jesus’ lineage from the House of David, long
accepted as the source of the Messiah who will liberate the Jews. It links
in Joseph as his legal father, as well as Mary, who undoubtedly would
be from the same tribe and whose father is mentioned in Matthew’s list
of patriarchs. For a gentile woman to play a foundational role by
producing Obed the father of Jesse, who was in turn David’s father,
indicates to Christians that God intended to include all humankind in his
salvation plan. Matthew’s account of the nativity serves as Jesus’ birth
announcement sent from God first to Israel via the House of David, and
then to all his children.

Alas, the Sadducees’ case of levirate marriage does not end so well.
The family in question starts with 7 brothers, one of whom has a wife but
no children of the marriage. When he dies, the second brother marries
his brother’s widow, according to Mosaic law. Then he dies without
fathering a child. The third brother steps up and on it goes, until at last
the widow, still childless, has outlived all possible brotherly replacements
and dies herself. It is a far-fetched premise to set up the Sadducees’
trick question: In the resurrection, whose wife would she be?
This is the kind of Bible passage inviting the imagination to rush in where
a preacher shouldn’t tread. Let’s remember that this far-fetched case
was engineered for a malevolent purpose by the Sadducees then
included by Luke to deepen our understanding…I shall forgo framing it
as demeaning to women, or as negligence in the face of multiple
suspect deaths, or a caution against keeping it in the family. As ever,
other interpretations are available. Instead, let’s consider the words of
Jesus.

He replies with a simple, direct explanation in which I can sense a
disappointment at their inability to understand the scriptures or have faith
in the power of God. For they have missed the point entirely when they
base their question on what pertains only to this world. Once dead to
this world, resurrection redeems us from its sin and limitations, and
ushers us into an unimaginably superior enjoyment of fullness of
life…here we are alive solely for the purposes of God in the image and
model he has ever provided. We are elevated in love and partnership
with all other children of the resurrection and with our God. We are
immortal. There is no need to limit our sacred bond of love and
connection to a marriage partner or to procreate children for purposes of
inheritance and survival of the race. We are like angels, forever dwelling
at a higher, fuller, more sublime level, free from death and the ordeal of
mortal life. We have graduated from earth school to permanently enter
and participate in God’s beloved, eternal family, shedding a finite
existence for one without limitation. In 3 short verses, Jesus sets out a
mind-blowing vision of what is to come for those “accounted worthy”.
Because his adversaries clearly are not worthy, Jesus cannot leave
them without one final attempt to redeem them with a portion of scripture
they would acknowledge – Exodus 3:6– when God speaks to 80-yearold
Moses out of the burning bush, identifying himself as the God of
Moses’ father, and the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, all long
deceased but alive in him forever. It is a reminder that God is ever
present, that death does not end existence; there is another life in his
presence. God will keep the unconditional promise he gave to Abraham
to send a Messiah to save Israel and to bless for the whole world. It is a
permanent pledge to forgive, protect and restore. No wonder Moses hid
his face in fear and wonder. Sadly, the scribes and Sadducees did not
recognise the living God in their midst.

The well-known Malcolm Muggeridge quote “I have one foot in heaven
and one foot on earth, and the foot on earth is on a banana peel”
captures the challenge of being open to the presence of God in the
midst of the uncertainty, loss and chaos of everyday life life…to experience
redemption, like Job, often at times of greatest suffering…to resurrect
faith and hope when mindful of doubts and shortcomings…to unleash
your imagination of what is possible with the Lord. What he promised
that Wednesday is resurrection as the birth right of every child of God.
That is something to remember when stepping on the next banana skin
and feeling all about you shift. “For he is not a God of the dead, but of
the living: for all live unto him.” Amen

“In the first year of Belshazzar king of Babylon Daniel had a dream and visions.”

A story from my first year at university, when I was studying the Book of Daniel. In the room opposite mine a chap was hosting a Christian Union Bible Study.

They were getting rather bogged down in interpreting the Book of Daniel, for obvious reasons –  much of it is weird, and opaque, and not open to easy interpretation. The dreams and visions are psychedelic. Properly the term is apocalyptic.

The consensus amongst most scholars, is that while Daniel depicts period the Babylonian exit in 6^th c BC, it was almost certainly written a lot later. It has more in common with the Apocrypha, probably dating from 163 BC – so very late. I said this, trying to be helpful. And a quiet chap piped up “That’s a lie, from the pit of hell.”

You might not know me lost for words, but on that occasion, I really did not know what to say. You might not be surprised to know I did not go back to that Bible Study group again.

Let’s remind ourselves of the contents of the Book of Daniel to chapter 7. We have heard about the burning fiery furnace and Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, we have heard about Belshazzar’s feast, and Daniel has gone in and come out of the Lion’s Den. And now we hear of the dream of Daniel in the first year of the reign of Belshazzer. Our reading this morning does not give us it all in full. To some extent the book is building up to this section. It tells of world politics of the mid second c bc through the kaleidoscope of vivid dreams.

The night vision of Daniel chapter 7 depicts the rising of four great beasts: a winged lion; a ravenous bear; a leopard, and monster beyond description, with iron teeth and 10 horns.

Contemporaries would not have needed telling, that the four beasts are the four successive empires which dominated the Middle East between the sixth and second centuries BC: the Babylonians, the Medes, the Persians and then the Greeks. The last beast, or empire, was the most fearsome, certainly in terms of how the vision depicts it. Its ten horns are ferocious. One of them, interestingly “a little one,” even speaks. It may be “dreadful and exceedingly strong” nevertheless it is presented pejoratively and contemptuously. But nothing hides its capacity for evil. Daniel sees something else. The Ancient of Days is seen, enthroned in the court of heaven. In the section, which is missed out in today’s reading, we hear “the court sat in judgement and the books were opened”. And over the noise coming from the “little horn”, before the heavenly court, the beast itself was slain, and the Son of Man appears, and to him was given “dominion and glory and kingdom that all peoples should serve him.” You are not wrong if it reminds you of the Book of Revelation.

We need a bit of history: in 175 BC Antiochus IV became the Seleucid ruler of Syria, Judaea and much of Mesopotamia. A descendant of one of Alexander’s generals who had been granted much of the near East, after Alexander’s death. Antiochus, called himself Epiphanes – God made manifest, which indicates something of how he viewed himself.

He had a fascination with the institutions of Judaism, and accepted bribes from different members of the High Priestly family in Jerusalem for the role of High Priest, who was de-facto vassal-governor of Judaea by dint of office. There’s a tussle between the HP and his usurped cousin Jason in 169, which causes Antiochus to storm to Jerusalem and after doing away with Jason in 167, Antiochus does something which will send shock waves through the Jewish world ever after. He sets up a Greek altar on the Temple mount, where the altar of sacrifice outside the Holy of Holies had been. For ever after, and crucially in key texts in the Gospels, this sacrilege is known as “the abomination of desolation”. And it prompts the Maccabean revolt, which lasts until 163 BC.

History does not recount exactly what happened in the Temple precincts at the hands of Antiochus, so shameful and abhorrent was it, but it marked Jewish consciousness ever after, and as we know it’s discussed the New Testament as well because the memory, shock and shame of it.

The Book of Daniel is a way of making sense of this horrendous trauma. Its visions and heightened language and reminder of the prevailing of the hero Daniel of another age, combine to tend and heal the wounds. And crucially to give hope. The book may well have been written before the final outcome of the Maccabean revolt, which sees off the Seleucids, and sees the brief period of Jewish self-rule before the Romans impose their own through Herod in the 1^st c BC.

Those words from the stranger to Daniel, as visions of heaven and hell in a sense are before him ring out:

the saints of the most High shall take the kingdom, and possess the kingdom for ever, even for ever and ever.

So, the whole of the Jewish nation are the saints. They are the ones who have been desecrated by the abomination, but together they will be vindicated, and repossess what has been lost. More importantly their holiness as a nation – their sanctity, their sainthood conferred upon them from the outset, as they became God’s people, is underlined. The re-sanctification of the Temple will restore their holiness too.

We hear as the Gospel Luke’s version of the Beatitudes as today’s Gospel:

Blessed be you poor: for yours is the kingdom of God.  Blessed are you that hunger now: for you shall be filled. Blessed are you that weep now: for you shall laugh.

Jesus, as Luke shows him, sees only the poor, the dispossessed, the hungry and the weeping. It is they (possibly even we) who live out the Gospel because to be one of those means to have followed him.

At this moment many are feeling poor and dispossessed, fearful of hunger and cold, and the uncertainty surrounding deteriorating international and environmental situations only compounds misery and fear. All have wept. Of course, we approach the season of remembrance with All Souls on Wednesday, and Remembrance in two Sundays’ time. Jesus promises blessing and holiness and even happiness to those, to us, for whom those gifts seem distant and unattainable. And here we are at the feast of this holiness, surrounded by the heavenly choir of angels and saints. Many of those listed in the litany we shall say shortly are depicted on our reredos, the arms of the tryptic reach out to us, enfolding us into this saintly band and give us hope.

 

I am sure you were all as impressed as I was by the State Funeral of our late Queen Elizabeth II.  Equally impressive were the proclamations that announced the accession of our new King, Charles III.  We look forward to his Coronation in May next year and we all wish him a long and prosperous reign.

Keeping the word ‘proclamation’ in mind, I turn to today’s Gospel reading when Jesus, in his first synagogue sermon, proclaims, as it is written in the Book of the prophet Isaiah, that he will ‘release the captives, recover sight to the blind and let the oppressed go free’. He is, in effect, proclaiming himself rather than being proclaimed.  Proclaiming himself as a teacher and a liberator, anointed by the Spirit of the Lord to bring ‘good news to the poor’.

At first, when they heard this proclamation, the people in the synagogue spoke well of Jesus but then began to wonder why the son of Joseph the carpenter should be able to make this proclamation.  Who does he think he is?  What I believe is happening here is that in this Gospel passage we see a revolutionary reversal of what people expect when a monarch is enthroned to rule over them.  Surely the Messiah, who has been promised to them as a Saviour, would be clothed in majesty and be of grand, not humble, origin.  Surely he would be proclaimed, not the proclaimer?  Surely he will be served, not serving?

It will be seen from the text that follows today’s Gospel reading that distrust turns to rage as Jesus says that the Gentiles too will receive God’s mercy.  Enraged because, as one Commentary on Luke expresses it, it was assumed by those present that salvation was for the Jews only, as given in Isaiah chapter 61 that is interpreted by Jesus in his proclamation.  There is perhaps one regal moment in the text when the attendant hands Jesus the scroll of the prophet Isaiah.  We could add that as a King or Queen is anointed at their Coronation so Jesus is ‘anointed by the Spirit of the Lord’. None of this was sufficient, it appears, to satisfy the crowd.

So we have a revolution here in terms of what a ruler should be.  The Old Testament kings went to war but Jesus is offering healing and unity.  As Paul wrote in his letter to the Romans, it is a call to people to live in harmony with one another, rich and poor alike.  You could say that revolutions turn things around  and there are plenty of examples of this happening in the New Testament.  Jesus turns the Sabbath on its head when he says that the Sabbath was made for man not man for the Sabbath.  He throws over the tables of the money changers in the Temple and calls upon people to love their enemies.

Turning things around has its origins in the Old Testament.  In Isaiah chapter 45 we read the words of God: ‘turn to me and be saved, all the ends of the earth, for I am God and there is no other’. In our worship today we are called upon to turn to face the altar to worship God.  Unfortunately, this turning around to view life from a new perspective falls on deaf ears in the synagogue when Jesus speaks.

No matter, as we as Christians have faith in God’s covenant with us that he will never abandon us.  This is revealed in the Old Testament when, as Nehemiah writes, the Israelites disobey God and kill his prophets but God forgives them more than once in his mercy, grace and covenant.  In the New Testament, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus offers us freedom from sin.

Returning to the nature of monarchy, although it is not obvious from the splendour of a coronation in today’s world and the ceremonies and pageantry that surround the monarch, if we look closer we can find that which very much relates to the Christian life.  There is the anointing of the monarch at the Coronation by the Archbishop of Canterbury, the regular attendance at church and in the first words of the National Anthem it is God who saves the monarch.  Service is at the very heart of royal duty, and working for the betterment of the world.  The difference, though, in the life of Jesus, is that God made himself poor that we could become rich.  Rich not in wealth but in mental and spiritual prosperity.

At the moment, in the current cost of living crisis, no-one is feeling prosperous on any level, mentally, financially or spiritually. There is the feeling of everything worldwide being in a downward spiral with war, climate change and economic difficulties.  We can take comfort though in the knowledge that Jesus too was caught in a downward spiral by being brought low, crucified, and laid in a tomb but then he rose again to sit at the right hand of God.  It is this triumph over adversity of a terrible kind that we can look to as our hope for the future because it demonstrates the fact that no matter how wrong footed we are God has the final word.  This final word is the triumph of light over darkness.

Keeping this promise of the light in mind, we can turn to God and pray for better times and trust in his everlasting forgiveness and love for us all. This will give us the strength to persevere and to help others less fortunate than ourselves. When the strong protect the weak this demonstrates our faith in the future and our trust in God’s promise to us of the glory to come.

 

AMEN

From today’s Gospel “Destroy this temple and in three days, I shall raise it up.” Words above the doorway of this church, from Genesis 28: 17: “This is none other than the House of God, this is the Gate of Heaven.”

65 years ago almost to the day, the then Bishop and clergy from the Deanery gathered here to dedicate this church after it was rebuilt in 1957.

On this anniversary we remember the rededication, and we give thanks for the ongoing work of the work of maintenance as it is constantly beautified to the glory of God. The boundary wall which has been restored, for the first time since St Mark’s was built in 1854, is now clean, and more importantly, safe. The careful work, undertaken by Stonedge and Tomas the mason in charge, who is here, is something we are very proud of. The wall frames and protects the church grounds so well. And our huge thanks to all who have been part of contributing to this work in relatively short order.

As the work has been progressing, I have been pondering stones, and walls; words with many Theological resonances; and the ironies of what it means for the Church itself to be a Temple not made with hands, comprising living stones – us, and yet to be reliant on stone and mortar for our in-gathering.

In my thinking, my mind has been drawn to the great western wall in Jerusalem, you have a photo of it in the order of service. On the right you see a close up of the western wall of Herod’s Temple, still not completed in Jesus’s day. Can you see at the base the massive stones which Herod’s labourers placed. As you go north from there the stones become even more enormous. What is interesting about this wall is that the portion we can see is but a small proportion of the total size. It was 105 ft 32 metres high from foundation to top, and 488 metres in length only 57 metres of which are visible. The scale is breath-taking. Much of that great wall is below the plaza in these pictures. The rubble created by the Romans first in 70 AD and then again in 135 AD, when they destroyed the temple precincts and filled the land to the west,  re-landscaped of the western approach to the Temple Mount. After that the Romans then built in 135 a temple to Jupiter on the site, and expelled the Jewish population from their ancient city. Never again would it function as their most holy place.

Ever since, only this section of wall has stood as vestige and poignant reminder of once was. This contested site is an intersectional place: to the north is the Dome of the Rock, and to the South, the A’qsa Mosque, both places of the greatest significance in Islam, the latter the place of Mohammed’s night journey into to heaven, the former possibly over the site of the Holy of Holies, the place where Abraham offered Isaac before he was redeemed by a ram in the ticket. For this rock is most possibly Mt Moriah.

The temple precincts in Jesus’s day thronged with pilgrims, not least on high holy days. It was quite proper that animals should be bought with Temple money, and the costs of maintaining the Temple made our boundary wall look like a walk in the Park; so a regulated trade in currency conversion was overseen by the Priestly guardians of the Temple. John tells us Jesus comes at the Feast of Passover. There are potent echoes from the Hebrew Bible. The quote from Psalm 69: 9, Zeal for thy house hath eaten me up and Not turning my father’s house into a house of merchandise from Zechariah 14, together signal the both the day of the Messiah, and the refrain of prophetic interest from the earliest days concerning proper care for the Temple.

At some level Jesus is opposing the trade that takes place there. This is consistent across all four gospels, although the other three place this event just after Jesus has come into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday.

All of them quote this opposition to inappropriate trade. But beyond this, John’s memory is the more striking. The dispensation of the use of the Temple because of its prophesied destruction, at the hands of others, then Jesus’ self-identification as its successor, is John’s equivalent of the Nazareth Manifesto. This is the gauntlet Jesus throws down as his ministry starts. The remaining nine chapters to chapter 11 are the outworking of the significance of this.

From what Jesus says we learn that sacred buildings and sacrifice are no longer necessary in this new vision of the divine economy. All that takes place within them which previously connected the worshipper with God, will now happen in him and his body, of which we are the members.

It was utterly shocking to make this claim. And yet, it was surprisingly in tune with the critique of others of Jesus’s contemporaries. The Essenes, in Qumran, from what we read in the Dead Sea Scrolls, had turned their backs on the Jerusalem Temple, for multiple reasons to do with frustration with the hierarchy there. They were the voices in the wilderness before John the Baptist was, and perhaps he was even one of them.

Stones and walls were implied as coming tumbling down in Jesus’s recasting of the Temple.

And yet, in our turn, we recreate, we identify and mark out and set boundary walls around sacred space. We hallow these portals year by year in memory of its foundation, and see Christ as the bedrock of this permanence. The words of Jacob’s following his dream at Bethel where he sees angels climbing up and down on a ladder to heaven “This is none other than the House of God, this is the Gate of Heaven” are carved into the lintel of the door by which we enter.

The first Christians spent their days worshipping in the Temple in Jerusalem. They did not reject it. And for the first 100 years after Jesus’s death, Palestinian Christianity was but a sect of Judaism. We have a primitive need to set apart space which is God’s so that we can be reminded that all space is ultimately his, and so we can worship him in spirit and in truth. To be Christ’s body, we need the certainty and stability of place. The walls we build and restore to secure that holiness of place, make not just our history one of salvation, but our geography too. Those walls are not to exclude but to protect and to provide open gates of welcome, flung wide, so that all may know God’s love. “There are no secrets” one of the great dramaturges of the last 70 years once wrote and this is the truth of the sacred space we hallow. Nothing is hidden, all are welcome. The signal of a boundary is not as permanent as its construction might suggest, in circumscribing sacred space, we speak as best we can of an eternity which is assured, everything else is relative. Just as after Jesus’s death and resurrection his disciples remembered Jesus’s words “and they believed the scripture.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We are keeping harvest today, because I have sense that the late Queen and the King would approve. Not only country people at heart, they and the Duke of Edinburgh have had shared and complementary visions of the need for respect for our planet and the systems which enable food production and biodiversity. Without meaning to detract from the seriousness of the death of the Queen, and her funeral tomorrow, it seems right to proceed with our Harvest celebrations now, and I shall defer to thoughts expressed by the King in a major and very considered speech he gave in 2021, as the world leader with the longest track record on this subject.

Just a few personal words about harvests. My earliest memories are of the cider apple harvest.

Apples and Somerset are almost synonymous. Our garden had a small orchard which adjoined that of a neighbour, my grandparents had a historic cider apple orchard which could almost have been listed, with rare varieties, and my father worked for a firm which doesn’t exist anymore, but you may remember, Taunton Cider, which marketed rather substandard ciders Dry Blackthorn and Autumn Gold.

In these early memories I was always perched on tractor somewhere, as apples from different orchards were loaded on to be taken and pressed. The taste of raw cider apple is a bracing one. Very acid, they are not like any eating sort, we used to distinguish between cookers and eaters, and cider apples were almost another fruit entirely. Sadly, as the years went on and my father changed jobs, my grandparents went from selling their apples (not for very much) to giving them to another of the local cider producers, eventually to paying for them to be taken away. Artisanal cider crafting was some way off, with no encouragement for it in national or local agricultural policy.

The discourse in farming around sustainability and soil health are very different now, and simple things like increasing the variety of habitats around arable land is renewing the balance in nature, which mercifully is reducing the need for pesticides and expensive and unnecessary chemical products.

Today’s OT reading, written in the 8^th c BC is about as topical as it can be. It was written at a moment when grain prices were exorbitant, and sheaves of wheat were decreased in size and sold for more money; and when some were so abjectly poor, that they were worth but the price of a pair of shoes. The intimate connection in an agricultural age between economics and grain production demonstrates the dependence of human society on wise stewardship of god-given resources. The canny or unjust steward in today’s Gospel, is commended for interesting behaviour. His Lord realises the steward may have been bad at his job before he was sacked, but as he saw the end of his livelihood from estate-management, he sensibly not only cut the tenants’ bills and rents – thereby almost certainly depriving himself of his rake-off; his lord could see that he was currying favour with future friends and supporters for after he was out on his ear. Faced with a crisis, the worldly-wise manager took vigorous action. He acted against his own interests to preserve his long-term future. As a “child of this world”, Our Lord is saying that the steward showed himself more shrewd than the “children of light”. Luke’s Gospel is all about reversals and up-endings. The coming Kingdom of God is essentially one great reversal:

The master commended the dishonest steward for his shrewdness; for the sons of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than the sons of light.
And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous mammon, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal habitations.

It’s quite dense and relies on a grasp of what Jesus has said already in this Gospel. Luke is reminding his readers that giving away all that ties us down, our wealth, is the ultimate means to entry into heaven. Jesus tells us in Chapter 6 the poor have their privileged places in the Kingdom of Heaven., the same poor will welcome those who free themselves of these burdens into eternal dwellings, just like the tenants will be friendly with the steward who reduced their rents. Giving up our own interests, losing everything to find what is most needful is one of the great themes of Luke’s work.

We might connect these sobering words with what we might see as our God-given duty to play our part in the preservation of our planet. Giving up short-term interests and thinking for the centuries to come is what we are bound to do.

Our King’s lifetime commitment to the preservation of the environment has been an almost spiritual task. He spoke at the opening of Cop 26 in November last year.

The Covid-19 pandemic has shown us just how devastating a global, cross-border threat can be.  Climate change and biodiversity loss are no different – in fact, they pose an even greater existential threat, to the extent that we have to put ourselves on what might be called a war-like footing.

Together, we are working to drive trillions of dollars in support of transition across ten of the most emitting and polluting industries.  They include energy, agriculture, transportation, health systems and fashion.  The reality of today’s global supply chains means that industry transition will affect every country and every producer in the world.  There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that the private sector is ready to play its part and to work with governments to find a way forward.

Many of your countries I know are already feeling the devastating impact of climate change, Any leader who has had to confront such life-threatening challenges knows that the cost of inaction is far greater than the cost of prevention.  So, I can only urge you, as the world’s decision-makers, to find practical ways of overcoming differences so we can all get down to work, together, to rescue this precious planet and save the threatened future of our young people.

On this Harvest Festival and the eve of the funeral of our Late Queen, whose love of creation was foremost, we pray the leaders of all the nations in their stewardship of this planet, and we pray for the new chapter in this nation’s life under King Charles III, and with him renew our commitment to protect, steward and sustain our world.

 

John 14: 11 “For whosoever exalteth himself shall be abased; and he
that humbleth himself shall be exalted”. 13 “…when thou makest a
feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind…”
Hebrews 13: 16 “… to do good and to communicate forget not: for with
such sacrifices God is well pleased”.

Welcome to the eleventh Sunday after Trinity on a balmy late summer
bank holiday, with a special welcome to William and his family as they
return from their summer break. Many are also welcoming the chance
to celebrate the Notting Hill Carnival for the first time in 3 years. My
household is welcoming a new kitten. With joy a bit thin on the ground,
anything happy-making is most welcome!

In today’s scripture we meet Jesus in the house of a high-ranking
Pharisee as one of the invited Sabbath supper guests, where he
decidedly upset his host’s event. Luke sets the scene, reporting that
his host and others in attendance were keeping a beady eye on the
troublesome new rabbi from the moment he crossed the threshold.
Jesus is literally dining with the enemy, whose counterfeit hospitality
cloaks Machiavellian intent: to entrap him in law-breaking in front of the
right sort of witnesses, so exposing him to prosecution with fatal
consequence.

As we know, this very device was written into God’s plan for our
salvation. But it could only occur in His own time, and through His
Son’s fulfilment, not by their agency. Instead, their malicious invitation
made possible an outreach to the very people who wished to harm
Jesus, a chance to have their minds and hearts disrupted and
transformed by his words…as well as presenting an enduring object
lesson on how to live with each other, starting at the dinner table.

Our current moment of man-made upheaval, uncertainty, and adversity
cries out for such an antidote. Particularly as we are treated to an
extended, real-time demonstration of those who exult themselves…
whilst the poor become poorer, more desperate, more numerous…the
maimed, lame and blind increasingly untended, unfunded, unloved.

What the Judean Pharisees must stomach on this particular Sabbath is
a 3-course menu of spiritual instruction, starting with an appetiser of
“unlawful” healing on the Sabbath, the 7th such incidence in Luke’s
gospel. By asking their “permission” to do the manifestly right thing,
Jesus silences them, reveals their hypocrisy…and sends another
grateful, restored person on their way to tell everyone about it. Our
takeaway is a sharp exposition of the difference between man-made
law that puts rules and power before the needs of people, and God’s
word, which ever serves the greatest good for people. Here is the sole
source of all good things and the generator of endless good news.

Jesus then serves up the piquant parable on humility and the nature of
hospitality in today’s featured passage. This is our main gospel focus;
however, it whets our appetite for a third course parable concluding the
dinner party narrative.

Once again, the lord gathers us around the table, offering the sublime
nutrition of his word. Like the Pharisees that Sabbath, we are free to
accept it – or not. In “Mere Christianity”, C.S. Lewis observes that “God
never meant man to be a purely spiritual creature. That is why He uses
material things like bread and wine to put new life into us. We may
think this rather crude and unspiritual. God does not: He invented
eating.” We affirm his act of creation with every shared mouthful, every
family celebration, feast day and deal made over a meal.

Now Luke is good on parables, embedding 40 such spiritual teaching
aids in his book, 11 of them exclusive to his gospel, a sufficiency to
guide Christians through their spells in the wilderness of life on earth.
Some are drawn from prophets of the Old Testament as instruction
from God; when spoken by the Son of God, they become vivid
portrayals of people in strange and memorable stories that are
allegories of meaning. They point to the truth woven through each
one…so we can begin to see ourselves as God sees us…made still in
His image despite our soiled and muddled human state …and so turn
to Him for grace. Luke also choses parables that capture an historical
moment, a tipping point for the original people of God, clinging to an
occupied and divided country, perched at the edge of destruction and
exile. Their power structures struggle to deal with the appearance of
the incarnate son of God, whose appearance will divide and reorganise
geopolitics and human destiny for centuries to come.

Jesus had just silenced the Pharisees. Whether it was from shame at
being called out for failing to help or incredulity that Jesus dared to DO
IT AGAIN on the Sabbath! It could not have created the most convivial
of atmospheres. Nonetheless, Jesus observes that as they move into
the dining room, they jostle each other for position at the table. And he
speaks up again, calls out their pushy behaviour, warning they could
find themselves embarrassed. He takes them to a wedding feast (the
setting for his very first public miracle), then as now fraught with
protocols and rituals.

Guests who seize a top seat may find their host does not have as high
an opinion of them as they do of themselves and intended it for another,
more distinguished guest. This makes them vulnerable to being moved
along to a lower position in plain sight of their rivals…gaining the wrong
sort of attention instead of the recognition and prestige they seek.
Definitely not how real hospitality is given or received, because it carries
the weight of status and obligation.

Instead, he counsels assuming the lowest, most obscure place, then
awaiting the host’s genuine invitation to join the head table. In this
scenario, their rivals witness the promotion and are forced to commend
one so exalted. It turns out that putting others first is the Lord’s upsidedown
strategy for obtaining true recognition, as well as the priceless
bonus of God’s blessing.

Further, you can eschew fancy gatherings altogether and stop
socialising only with people who can benefit you in some way. Instead,
lavish your hospitality on the lowest, the poorest, the disabled and
afflicted. Not only is their need genuine, but your hospitality would be
free of expectation for repayment. In that way, the open-handed host
can be freed from the pride that limits relationship with God and his
own guests. For pride leads to worship of a false or imaginary god in
the image of our own ambition; tradition and self-interest can then
combine to guarantee privilege. Done the Christ-like way, hospitality
returns to “what you know” instead of “who you know”, no doubt a
better way to build confidence in your own abilities as well as to live
according to his teaching and example.

That is why putting others first does not diminish you. Archbishop
William Temple thought and wrote extensively on the all-important
relationship of Church and Nation in creating and sustaining social
justice and offered the following: “Humility does not mean thinking less
of yourself than of other people, nor does it mean having a low opinion
of your own gifts. It means freedom from thinking about yourself at all.”
Hallelujah!

We hear the parable draw to a triumphant close, with its promise of
future blessings for those who do good works and charitable acts free
of desire for personal advantage. But this awkward dinner party
doesn’t end there – one of the guests rushes to fill the silence with a
pious cliché about eating bread in the kingdom. With the full
assumption that, of course, everyone present would be at THAT table!

Time for Jesus to serve the third course, a zinger of a great supper they
will never taste…though it is by their own choice they forgo the banquet
of salvation. Like a Judean “Discrete Charm of the Bourgeoisie” but
with eternal consequences, habits of self-interest, self-indulgence and
self-importance deprive them of any seat at the table although they
were among the first to receive a divine invitation.

After this performance, Jesus was not welcomed again to a Pharisee
table, even as a ‘frenemy’ of the status quo. Luke 15 tells us the next
dinner party Jesus attends is in the company of tax collectors and
sinners. Those despised by traditional society are the ones he specially
came for. In a world turned upside down, it’s the least, the last and the
lost who sit at the top table. Why? Because they can acknowledge
their short-comings and lowly status. They understand their ability to
earn God’s grace and healing through their own actions is non-existent.
And just like that, they are freed to act without thought of repayment or
benefit… able to turn to Christ…for the greater good of all.

Now if this twangs your inner skeptic, consider this: wouldn’t it be a
better way to proceed? If kingdom come isn’t in your pension plan, this
investment would still make the time shared here on earth so much
better. As we reel from long-term effects of imposed distance from our
shared table and bereavement, the ability of everyone to feed, warm
and water themselves and their families is now in doubt.

This is no time to exalt those who have pushed their way to the top
table. It isn’t leadership – it’s a land grab – and there is quite enough of
that going on elsewhere. Remember the call to brotherly love and
kindness to strangers, welcoming visitation by angels, caring for those
in adversity, guarding respect for the sanctity of marriage and the
power of our words. These are not rules or legal requirements or
commandments; they are the love song of God with his people. “Jesus
Christ, the same yesterday and today, and forever”. Amen.

I’m going to reflect on some aspects of the gospel reading first, and then tell you a little about the Lambeth Conference where I served for a week. The conference saw 650 bishops from Anglican churches across the world gather to pray, study and worship together.

But I can’t leave today’s gospel alone! It’s one of those readings that grabs our attention! Gone is gentle Jesus, meek and mild. Today Jesus says he’s bringing division, fire and causing family rifts. What’s going on?!

Jesus says he comes to bring fire. Fire is a symbol of destruction and judgement – it is to be feared. But equally, it contains a cleansing element. After the fire there remains ash, and seeds. New life can grow after the cleansing judgement – but the judgement is there to cleanse, to eradicate the evil and to show us the consequences of our rejection of God.

It made me reflect on where we are as a nation. In 1940 Britain had a national day of prayer, when the nation – probably awkwardly, probably with a lot of doubts – took some moments to just throw up prayers in anguish, hoping for help. I don’t pretend Britain was a Christian country, but I do think many ordinary folk did just take a few moments of humility, asking God for help.  A few days later the Dunkirk evacuations took place with the English Channel in a unique state of calmness, facilitating the small armada of ships.

In 2022, we don’t want to talk about that fact, we instead want to say the soldiers were heroes, our nation is great, and faith should be a private matter. When Covid sent millions to an early grave, the churches were shut and national leaders offered little attempt at national prayer. After a time we came up with a vaccine but then failed to share it widely internationally because of copyright issues, condemning many more to death. And as politicians skip work, the ground burns, the earth warms, the land disappears under concrete, Ukraine is destroyed by bombs, people risk life and limb to flee wars, and the consequences of printing money and massive debt are coming home to bite us all as a recession, why don’t we see the signs…?

Jesus also says he comes to bring division not peace. Now this has to be read carefully and in context. Luke is adamant that the arrival of Jesus is peace towards all humanity, it is God reaching out to us in peace. We are called to live in peace.

But this world is in rebellion against God. Peace with God places us at odds with the world. 2000 years ago this was very clear, and today in some cultures this is a reality: your faith is not just a private matter, it is your identity. If you leave your religion, you bring shame on your family. Fathers can and indeed do betray sons to death.

Of course we are called to love our families and our biological relationships are the first calling in our lives, but equally we are to look beyond our tribes. We are called to live in peace and love with everyone if we can, and to realise that our own family might reject us because of our faith. But fear not: the Christian family is a new creation, a new family of people.

William our vicar has a lovely family, but when I had to leave Russia suddenly, I was welcomed into his family, given a place to live, fed at meal times, treated with kindness, care and respect. I have no biological connection to the Gullifords, but that hospitality shown to me is exemplary of the new family we are called to be in, showing Christian love and kindness to other Christians!

And the same with Christians in Africa, Asia, the Middle East, Europe, the Americas. These people are just as much, and sometimes more, our family as your brother or sister. That is a revolutionary idea, but a great comfort to people who were thrown out of their community for following Jesus.

And so to Lambeth. And this is the connection: I met bishops from across the world. Bishops with tribal scars on their faces. One bishop who had actually fought a lion as a child. Bishops from the war in South Sudan, bishops dealing with historic abuse cases in North America. Bishops struggling day-to-day in Israel / Palestine. These people came together at Lambeth and shared their stories, told how God was faithful to them, and strengthened each other.

These people, and their churches, are our brothers and sisters. They are our family. Jesus calls us to love them as we love our parents or siblings. Are we listening to them, responding to their needs?

We had about 650 bishops, plus 650 husbands or wives, plus a few hundred extras like me! The days started with prayer, breakfast, then a bible study on the first book of Peter. Peter, the lead disciple of Jesus, dealt with all of the same issues we experience today – persecution, division, bad ideas about God, and suffering. Then the bishops had time to study, then they had time to share their stories, then they came together in the afternoons to make calls to the wider world.

These Lambeth ‘calls’ are the united voices of the church’s leadership urging Christians to take action and committing themselves to taking action.

It means that when someone has committed abuse in a church, that abuse is not covered up, but the abuser is arrested and the abuse compensated, even if it bankrupts us. It means us in the West using our power to bring justice for those in poorer states. How can we sleep well having eaten food that was grown by a poor Christian working almost as a slave? How can we rest easily when our emissions are burning the soils of poor Christians in South America? There is much we can do to help our brothers and sisters internationally.

Of course there was talk about human sexuality, and there is a great division between the majority of the church and minority Western churches, but the bishops chose to walk together, recognising that people will always disagree, but Christ calls us to be committed to loving one another. We are all unique and different, but Jesus said humanity will know that you are my disciples if you love one another.

I checked the BBC headlines during the week, and was saddened. When the leaders of 85 million Anglicans committed to planting a Communion Forest to combat climate change, the media ignored it. For some reason, Kym Marsh being on Strictly and Chrissy Teigen’s pregnancy were deemed more important. Whoever she is, I wish Chrissy all the best and pray for a wonderful baby for her, and hope Kym enjoys Strictly, but if that is news, I’m a turnip.

But this is what Jesus is saying (not I’m a turnip!!) – the world is going to hate and reject us. Christians are at odds with the world. Even the Science and Faith commissions launched at Lambeth to make it clear to the world that there is no clash will be ignored, because the world does not want to hear the message of repentance and submission to Christ.

The world wanted a big dispute about gay marriage, but instead got bishops who wanted to work together. The world wanted a fight, but my experience of Lambeth was hundreds of bishops signing up to link their dioceses together – poorer parts of Africa joining in work with richer parts of London or America. That is brotherhood, sisterhood, and the revolutionary new family of Jesus.

Let us commit ourselves to seeing how we might serve and love our international brethren. Amen

In the opening sentence of today’s Gospel reading, we learn that Jesus is reassuring his disciples that they need not be afraid of opposition, particularly from the Pharisees, because they have the promise of the Kingdom of God.  No-one can take that promise from them because it does not rely upon earthly possessions, so cherished by the Pharisees, but upon ‘treasure in heaven’.

Jesus’s call upon his disciples not to worry features many times in Luke’s Gospel. In the text preceding today’s reading, Jesus tells his disciples not to fear those who kill the body, only fear God who has ‘the authority to cast into hell’. He goes on to urge them not to worry about their life because God will care and provide for them.

If we read on beyond today’s Gospel text we realize that what Jesus is asking of his disciples by way of fearless trust in the promise of the Kingdom is a tall order because, as Jesus says of himself, he has come ‘to bring fire to the earth’ and ‘division in households’.  I would have thought that any one of us would have needed much reassurance in those circumstances that to follow Jesus need not be a fear ridden task.  The controversy that Jesus engendered was, after all, going to lead to his death on the Cross.

I believe there is a message here for us all in today’s world, which is mired in pandemic and anxiety about the future.  A message that says if we trust in the promise of the Kingdom we need not buckle under the weight of issues that confront us.  Rather let us stand firm and protect the weak and let us shift away from too much value on material possessions and towards trust in the provision that God makes for us. There is much evidence of this happening today in the increase of help given to others in the difficult circumstances we are in.   Here, I believe, is a sign of God working his purposes out as the waters cover the sea.

Returning to today’s Gospel reading, we learn that the disciples need to be ready for the Son of Man ‘coming at an unexpected hour’. They must be on their guard as they wait for this to happen.  So to be fearless does not mean that they can relax but be mindful at all times of the coming of the Son of Man.  They must be ‘dressed for action’ and have their lamps lit.

This watching and waiting cannot have been an easy task for them as watching and waiting can be more demanding in a tense situation than action.  I think here of the soldiers of the First War who would have had to endure the silence and stillness in the trenches before going over the top to confront the enemy.  Here we see that being alert and waiting does not in itself necessarily bring about a happy conclusion.  In opera and literature we can also find unhappy endings that result from watching and waiting. In Puccini’s opera ‘Madam Butterfly’ the heroine, Cio-Cio San, the Japanese geisha, waits throughout the night in utter stillness and trust as she looks out on to the horizon for the return of the one she loves, Lieutenant Pinkerton, but he does not come at that time.  In Thomas Hardy’s novel ‘Far from the Madding Crowd’ Sergeant Troy waits in the church for his bride-to-be, Fanny Robin, but disastrously she has gone to the wrong church and he can wait no more.

Watching and waiting though can produce a happy result and there is a wonderful example of this in the recent triumph of the Lionesses in women’s football after many years of waiting, but it is a variable.  Yet this variable does not negate what Jesus is asking his disciples to do. He is calling upon them not to achieve a result from watching and waiting that relates to earthly existence but a result that has a heavenly meaning. That heavenly meaning is the Kingdom to come. This will require an agonizing death on the Cross and we know that this requirement was so demanding that even Jesus himself cried out on the Cross ‘My God, my God, why has thou abandoned me?’.  Only then can the Resurrection follow and the promise of the Kingdom be fulfilled.

It is the Resurrection and the promise of the Kingdom that we are assured of in this call to the disciples to watch and wait.  The disciples followed Jesus until near the end of his life and although they could not quite watch and wait until the end as they fell asleep in the garden of Gethsemane, it did not prevent Jesus encountering them once more after his death and instructing them to go and, as given at the end of Matthew’s Gospel, to make disciples of all nations.

Here we have for us today this assurance of the outcome of the Resurrection and the promise of the life to come.  In our highly mobile world, that is what puts a value on stillness and watchfulness.  Stillness can help us to stay calm and focussed in the storms of life and allow us time to reflect upon the glory of the Kingdom to come.

So in our troubled world today, let us not look down in despair but upwards to the sky above where, as the Psalmist wrote: ‘God watches us from heaven, fashioning our hearts and observing our deeds’.  It is that heavenly realm that is our ultimate destination.  A destination where there will be no more fear, no more need to watch and wait, only to dwell in the light of God’s love for us all.

 

Amen

 

 

 

 

 

 

I do apologise because you’ve now had me three Sundays in a row, and the plan was for me to be on next week too! But Ros is kindly relieving me of the sermon next week – many thanks! Yet it’s always a blessing for me (perhaps not for you!) to be on the preaching rota, because I get to look into the passage in depth – and it is so rewarding digging into the teachings of Jesus!

The message today is quite simple: avoid greed and the entrapment of objects. Guard yourself against the enticing power of objects. Remember: possessions are never owned by you. You are possessed by them. You are the temporary thing, not the object. You might have a Ferrari all your life, but on the day after your funeral, it will still be there and you will be gone. It is more accurate to say that it possessed you…

Heart Motivation

In the gospel reading today we have a man crying out for someone to support him in a family argument. My brother should divide our inheritance with me! On the face of it, this seems right. It implies that the brother is doing something wrong in not dividing the inheritance. However, we should note the reaction of Jesus – there seems to be more going on here than meets the eye.

Jesus responds by saying “Man, who made me the judge in your Family Court law suit?” It’s quite a natural reaction really – if you shouted “help me get to the airport on holiday”, I could say “who made me your taxi driver?”. The use of ‘man’ by Jesus, in that culture, is like a rebuke.

But also, Jesus is not liking the motive at work. The guy calling out is trying to get money from his brother, and it seems that Jesus sees that this man is not seeking an equitable distribution of the inheritance, but actually just wants some more money! We should remember that Jesus has a history of seeing right through our pretences to exposing the heart of what we are saying.

You can’t take it with you

And so we have a key sentence in our reading: your life is much more than the stuff you own. Your life does not consist of the objects you collect in your house. Who you are, who you follow, who you become matter far more than things that you never really own. You can’t take any of it with you – just ask the pharaohs! The objects they were buried with to help them in the afterlife are today being dug up by archaeologists in Egypt. Meanwhile, the pharaohs themselves, their qualities and their characters, are mysteries only known to God.

Jesus thus reacts to the guy wanting some more cash. He tells him “don’t seek after money and wealth because stuff on this planet us not real treasure”.

And yet, the more we get the more it controls us. Have you seen the film “All the Money in the World?” It’s about Jean Paul Getty (played by Christopher Plummer) and his grandson who was kidnapped. Getty, the richest man in history, initially refused to pay any ransom. When asked “You are the richest man in history, what would it take for you to feel secure?”, he growls “More!”

And so the man in Jesus’ parable is probably deceiving himself too. “I’ll lay up my wealth, store things up, and then I can sit back and enjoy the income, enjoy the fruits of my labour, and I can eat, drink and be merry!” The Good Life! Yet how many people actually do that? I had a relative who worked to earn so he could have the good life, but never had enough. Then he realised he had stage 4 cancer and his days were numbered. All his work went to someone else.

Selfishness V Sharing

There are numerous messages in this parable, but I think the one that hits me is the attitude of “looking out for number one” – which Jesus opposes. This attitude is in essence one of selfishness.

The guy in the parable lives in ancient Israel. Most people lived in small village communities. The lives of everyone in that village were entwined. They all knew who was struggling, who was suffering, and who needed help. Yet here we have a guy making some money, doing well, finally getting some prosperity, and thinking immediately … of having a yacht, a Rolls-Royce, and putting his feet up!

There is nothing wrong with yachts and Rolls Royces. But when Christians – our brothers and sisters – are being hunted to extinction in the Islamic world, when Christians are being forced into poverty by climate change, and when Christians are being silenced and arrested even closer to home, to think of getting luxury items before helping the vulnerable and suffering, is selfish. It is earning treasures on earth and rejecting treasure in heaven.

In the year 2000, Peter Mandelson said “New Labour is intensely relaxed about people getting filthy rich”. I wish he had added a bit more to that statement, because as it is, I don’t think Jesus would agree. Getting filthy rich is fine so long as everyone else is doing well or that you are willing to step in to spend your riches paying for healthcare for the homeless, for the sick, or for the elderly.

The man in the parable lives in a community. He is well aware of the struggles of others. Yet his first and only concern is storing up his own wealth. “I’ll be fine, even if the others are not”. This man has no community spirit, no connection with his fellow humans, and no thought to God. He does not see himself as having any duties or responsibilities. He has, in essence elevated himself to godlike status.

The Thrust of the Scriptures of God

And in a society like ancient Israel, that was awful! He was going against the entire thrust of the Old Testament scriptures and the prophets who wrote them, teaching us to care for one another and support our families and the vulnerable elderly. His first thought was “how can I relax more” rather than “how can I help the people for whom I am responsible?”

As an only child, I have always prized being an island. But I am wrong: No man is an island! John Donne is right. We are connected to each other, and Christ calls us to be his body, his connected church, a family dedicated to worshipping God and showing the world a new kind of love.

How should we live?

So how do we live? Possessions are traps. Jesus is telling us to guard ourselves so that we do not become the possessions of our possessions. He is talking to people who had some stuff, not a lot, but who were tempted to see the solution as more stuff. Jesus knows you need stuff, he’s guarding against the desire we all have for more stuff.

If only I had a new computer, I’d be happier. Wrong! If you want true pleasure, the solution is to lay up riches toward God. Stuff fools us into thinking we are gods, and we forget our passing, temporary nature on this earth.

Jesus is telling us to watch our hearts and give an honest assessment. The rich man received an abundant harvest – which ultimately is a gift from God – and immediately thought of his own profiteering.

When we are doing well, do we immediately think of a new iPhone or do we think of helping others? Do our lives, does the money we earn, help the world’s poorest? Are you and I storing up treasure in heaven by helping the suffering, spreading the good news of Jesus, and feeding the poor? When we are weighed in God’s balances, will we have used our financial blessings to help God’s family…?

Let us commit ourselves to love shown in giving more of the blessings we enjoy.

Amen