I arrived at the church yesterday for 9am Morning Prayer - normally there is a small turn-out for this service. Well, the vicar was there, with a bright-red spade, and he had just started shovelling.
Only half an inch of snow fell on Sunday night (on top of the existing frozen slush and previously compacted snow) but the church is on a steep ungritted hill, and a funeral cortege was due to arrive at 10am. Vans and cars were struggling to get up the hill.
So Morning Prayer took on an entirely different form.
Three of us took part, with shovels... 40 minutes of hard work later and the curate had a bright red face, hair plastered to her head with sweat, and looked as if she had just run a mile in, oooh, twenty minutes. Time to finish grit-spreading, go home and do some desk-work.
Oops, we're missing a verger. "Will you do the verger's job please?"
A sartorial clergy crisis ensued as it dawned on me that a FLM reject fleece and plastered wet hair (no, I didn't even have a comb with me) doesn't fit the 'appropriately dressed' part of the working arrangements. Luckily the funeral was 20 minutes late starting, and Penny lent me a hair-brush (Thanks!).
Later that day I realised I'd also dropped some food down the front of the fleece... (I wonder when I did that?) Next time I'll put on a cassock to cover the inappropriate clothing, but I only thought of that half-way through the service. Biretta anyone?
Tuesday, 12 January 2010
Sunday, 22 November 2009
Sermon: 22nd November 2009 - John 18:33-37
Who really has the power?
Pilate looks at the man in front of him and knows he has the power to sentence him to death or to release him.
Pilate’s spies were likely to have already given him information about this man, which adds an irony to the questioning. Pilate thinks this is about his own use of power – his power in relationship to his Roman superiors, his power in relation to the Jewish authorities on this troublesome trade route between the fertile farmland to the north and Rome.
The Jewish leaders are not overly submissive; they are waiting outside, not out of respect, but because they are not prepared to pollute themselves by stepping into his palace. Will Pilate give them what they want? What does he have to gain, or lose, by his response? Will he keep the peace, and the trade routes open, by compliance? Or can he annoy these troublesome people more by refusing their ‘request’ and showing them who is in charge? This is the level of human power use and abuse that faces Jesus.
The Jewish leaders waiting outside are so busy observing the purity regulations that they don’t even hear what Jesus has to say – it is one of those great ironies in the story of Jesus’ life – that when he makes the definitive statement about his divine kingship and his purpose, the key people are not there to hear it.
Pilate looks at this man without any visible trappings of power, and asks, possibly with a sneer, “Are you the king of the Jews.” He hears Jesus’ reply, but his understanding of power is purely political, and is related to domination and subjection, so he cannot understand. Jesus is talking of ideas ‘outside the box’ and Pilate, like so many before him in John’s telling of the story, just doesn’t get it.
Jesus, the powerless prisoner, descendant of King David, Son of the living God, submerging his divine power, undermining all definitions of worldly status, prepares to die for Barabbas and every Barabbas before and since, including you and me, and tells the truth, “My kingdom is not from this world.” I am a King… for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world.” There is a double statement in there, “I was born”, and “I came” – I am of human and I am of heaven. I am outside your understanding and your experience.
Today’ reading is one of four that are programmed for the main service today, which marks the end of the church year, before we start the season of Advent next week, and answers the question, “Who is this man?” We’ve shared Psalm 93, which tells us
“the LORD is robed in majesty and is armed with strength…Your throne was established long ago; you are from all eternity”
The other readings, from Daniel and Revelation are written in that vivid apocalyptic style that tells us in pictures about the nature of God. The readings are detailed on the Housegroup notes.
In Daniel 7 we read of a vision of heaven in which the Ancient of Days is seated on a throne and the
“Son of Man is led into his presence and given authority, glory and sovereign power; all peoples, nations and men of every language worshiped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed.”
In the corresponding reading from Revelation 1 the same idea is echoed,
“Grace and peace to you from him who is, and who was, and who is to come, and from the seven spirits before his throne, and from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.
It speaks of him, “who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood”, and “has made us to be a kingdom” and it speaks of a time when there will be no doubt about the nature of the kingdom, available to everyone and forever, “every eye will see him, even those who pierced him; and all the peoples of the earth will mourn because of him”
"I am the Alpha and the Omega," says the Lord God, "who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty”.
This isn’t a transitory empire or kingdom, like the Roman Empire or the USSR, this is forever, it exists now, and it is to come. This isn’t a message for a select few; this is a message for all of humanity, “every eye will see him”. It is for us, and for those we look down on, and those we look up to, and those we struggle to like as well as for those we love and pray for.
Did you know that Deuteronomy 21:23 says,
“you must not leave his body on the tree overnight. Be sure to bury him that same day, because anyone who is hung on a tree is under God's curse. You must not desecrate the land the LORD your God is giving you as an inheritance.”
The Jewish authorities had already decided that Jesus must die. They had the option of stoning him to death as a sanction within their own legal system, but they wanted Jesus crucified, and I think it was because he would then be seen to be under God’s curse, and the authorities thought this would destroy his mission.
So, back to our story. In front of Pilate stands a vulnerable human being, already condemned by his own people, being offered to the occupying power for crucifixion. This man, who at his birth was brought gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, has no visible power. The subsequent mockery of the passion, dressing him in a purple robe, the crown of thorns, title ‘King of the Jews’ above him on the cross all seem to emphasise his powerlessness and his vulnerability.
Or to put it another way, in front of Pilate stands the king of all things, of all time, with all the glory and power inside and beyond this world, and he can’t see it. The Jewish authorities have brought this king to Pilate, but they don’t understand him either.
So the scene is set for the passion, the death and the resurrection of Jesus, and for the true kingship of heaven to be revealed.
This is a kingdom that covers all time and space; in which our membership is voluntary, in which the rich do not exploit the poor for their own pleasure and convenience. It is not about what we get but about what we offer to others; Christ the King gave everything for us, and our response is a depth of love that prompts us to give in return. Our desires are refocused from our own self-interest, to the interests of God’s kingdom.
When we answer those questions in our baptism and confirmation service, “Do you turn to Christ?” and “Do you submit to Christ as Lord?” we are putting ourselves under divine authority, recognising that the only power that does not corrupt is the power of God’s love. God’s kingdom is based on love, so when we answer, Do you come to Christ, the way, the truth and the life?” with “I come to Christ”, we are coming to a kingdom of love and acceptance.
As we have received, so we offer – welcome, value, dignity for all. And we find the future members of God’s kingdom outside the walls of this church, in our communities and workplaces, in our shopping centres, prisons and hospitals; in our schools and sleeping on our streets. Revelation 1 tells us that every eye will see him, so none are excluded. None. At some stage “every eye will see him”.
Revelation is apocalyptic literature, the words paint pictures to help our understanding of the nature of God, but I don’t think they are intended to be literal descriptions of the wallpaper in heaven. I think we are expected to read the message that flows through the words, which tells us that the kingship of heaven is not a myth or a fancy story to make people feel better. In some way that I don’t fully understand it is telling us about the reality of our salvation; that we can believe without doubt the claim that, "I am the Alpha and the Omega," … "who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.”
In our worship today, our prayers, our liturgy, our Bible reading and our singing, we celebrate this kingdom; the kingdom of Christ here and now and to come. When we pray in the Lord’s prayer, “Your kingdom come”, this is what we are asking for – the eternal reign of Christ in our hearts and lives, a reign that changes our way of looking at the world, and makes us want to do what Christ did – to subvert our worldly power for the benefit of others – to help every eye to see.
Our decision has to be, do we worship the transitory powers of this world, or do we enter into the ‘not from this world’ kingdom of Christ?
Pilate looks at the man in front of him and knows he has the power to sentence him to death or to release him.
Pilate’s spies were likely to have already given him information about this man, which adds an irony to the questioning. Pilate thinks this is about his own use of power – his power in relationship to his Roman superiors, his power in relation to the Jewish authorities on this troublesome trade route between the fertile farmland to the north and Rome.
The Jewish leaders are not overly submissive; they are waiting outside, not out of respect, but because they are not prepared to pollute themselves by stepping into his palace. Will Pilate give them what they want? What does he have to gain, or lose, by his response? Will he keep the peace, and the trade routes open, by compliance? Or can he annoy these troublesome people more by refusing their ‘request’ and showing them who is in charge? This is the level of human power use and abuse that faces Jesus.
The Jewish leaders waiting outside are so busy observing the purity regulations that they don’t even hear what Jesus has to say – it is one of those great ironies in the story of Jesus’ life – that when he makes the definitive statement about his divine kingship and his purpose, the key people are not there to hear it.
Pilate looks at this man without any visible trappings of power, and asks, possibly with a sneer, “Are you the king of the Jews.” He hears Jesus’ reply, but his understanding of power is purely political, and is related to domination and subjection, so he cannot understand. Jesus is talking of ideas ‘outside the box’ and Pilate, like so many before him in John’s telling of the story, just doesn’t get it.
Jesus, the powerless prisoner, descendant of King David, Son of the living God, submerging his divine power, undermining all definitions of worldly status, prepares to die for Barabbas and every Barabbas before and since, including you and me, and tells the truth, “My kingdom is not from this world.” I am a King… for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world.” There is a double statement in there, “I was born”, and “I came” – I am of human and I am of heaven. I am outside your understanding and your experience.
Today’ reading is one of four that are programmed for the main service today, which marks the end of the church year, before we start the season of Advent next week, and answers the question, “Who is this man?” We’ve shared Psalm 93, which tells us
“the LORD is robed in majesty and is armed with strength…Your throne was established long ago; you are from all eternity”
The other readings, from Daniel and Revelation are written in that vivid apocalyptic style that tells us in pictures about the nature of God. The readings are detailed on the Housegroup notes.
In Daniel 7 we read of a vision of heaven in which the Ancient of Days is seated on a throne and the
“Son of Man is led into his presence and given authority, glory and sovereign power; all peoples, nations and men of every language worshiped him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that will never be destroyed.”
In the corresponding reading from Revelation 1 the same idea is echoed,
“Grace and peace to you from him who is, and who was, and who is to come, and from the seven spirits before his throne, and from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.
It speaks of him, “who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood”, and “has made us to be a kingdom” and it speaks of a time when there will be no doubt about the nature of the kingdom, available to everyone and forever, “every eye will see him, even those who pierced him; and all the peoples of the earth will mourn because of him”
"I am the Alpha and the Omega," says the Lord God, "who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty”.
This isn’t a transitory empire or kingdom, like the Roman Empire or the USSR, this is forever, it exists now, and it is to come. This isn’t a message for a select few; this is a message for all of humanity, “every eye will see him”. It is for us, and for those we look down on, and those we look up to, and those we struggle to like as well as for those we love and pray for.
Did you know that Deuteronomy 21:23 says,
“you must not leave his body on the tree overnight. Be sure to bury him that same day, because anyone who is hung on a tree is under God's curse. You must not desecrate the land the LORD your God is giving you as an inheritance.”
The Jewish authorities had already decided that Jesus must die. They had the option of stoning him to death as a sanction within their own legal system, but they wanted Jesus crucified, and I think it was because he would then be seen to be under God’s curse, and the authorities thought this would destroy his mission.
So, back to our story. In front of Pilate stands a vulnerable human being, already condemned by his own people, being offered to the occupying power for crucifixion. This man, who at his birth was brought gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, has no visible power. The subsequent mockery of the passion, dressing him in a purple robe, the crown of thorns, title ‘King of the Jews’ above him on the cross all seem to emphasise his powerlessness and his vulnerability.
Or to put it another way, in front of Pilate stands the king of all things, of all time, with all the glory and power inside and beyond this world, and he can’t see it. The Jewish authorities have brought this king to Pilate, but they don’t understand him either.
So the scene is set for the passion, the death and the resurrection of Jesus, and for the true kingship of heaven to be revealed.
This is a kingdom that covers all time and space; in which our membership is voluntary, in which the rich do not exploit the poor for their own pleasure and convenience. It is not about what we get but about what we offer to others; Christ the King gave everything for us, and our response is a depth of love that prompts us to give in return. Our desires are refocused from our own self-interest, to the interests of God’s kingdom.
When we answer those questions in our baptism and confirmation service, “Do you turn to Christ?” and “Do you submit to Christ as Lord?” we are putting ourselves under divine authority, recognising that the only power that does not corrupt is the power of God’s love. God’s kingdom is based on love, so when we answer, Do you come to Christ, the way, the truth and the life?” with “I come to Christ”, we are coming to a kingdom of love and acceptance.
As we have received, so we offer – welcome, value, dignity for all. And we find the future members of God’s kingdom outside the walls of this church, in our communities and workplaces, in our shopping centres, prisons and hospitals; in our schools and sleeping on our streets. Revelation 1 tells us that every eye will see him, so none are excluded. None. At some stage “every eye will see him”.
Revelation is apocalyptic literature, the words paint pictures to help our understanding of the nature of God, but I don’t think they are intended to be literal descriptions of the wallpaper in heaven. I think we are expected to read the message that flows through the words, which tells us that the kingship of heaven is not a myth or a fancy story to make people feel better. In some way that I don’t fully understand it is telling us about the reality of our salvation; that we can believe without doubt the claim that, "I am the Alpha and the Omega," … "who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.”
In our worship today, our prayers, our liturgy, our Bible reading and our singing, we celebrate this kingdom; the kingdom of Christ here and now and to come. When we pray in the Lord’s prayer, “Your kingdom come”, this is what we are asking for – the eternal reign of Christ in our hearts and lives, a reign that changes our way of looking at the world, and makes us want to do what Christ did – to subvert our worldly power for the benefit of others – to help every eye to see.
Our decision has to be, do we worship the transitory powers of this world, or do we enter into the ‘not from this world’ kingdom of Christ?
Sunday, 1 November 2009
Sermon: 31st October 2009 - John 11:32-44
Last night we were in St Albans and witnessed the Halloween celebrations that were taking place in the White Hart Inn, a 600 year old public house famous for its ghosts, and for being the place where William Hogarth drew Lord Lovat - the last person to be beheaded in Britain - in 1746. It was long enough ago, and far enough away to have become entertainment rather than personal tragedy for those dressed in black and orange with ghoulish make-up, so was a cause for entertainment.
Closer to our own history; the death of Princess Diana touched something in many of us and we grieved; it had significance in our lives. Recently the death of Boys Own pop singer Stephen Gately has triggered strong feelings of grief among people younger than me. This week saw the death of Norman Painting who had played the part of Phil Archer for sixty years. For many of us he was part of our history, and his passing has also been well-marked by the media.
The deaths of people we didn’t know can touch us in ways that can take us by surprise. Psychologists tell us that although our empathy and our sympathy is for others, that empathy is enabled by our own experience and the depths of grief that we each carry. If we have never felt pain how can we imagine pain in another person? Empathy is, in some way, a connection with others that happens as a result of our own wounds – a positive benefit (albeit one that we often don’t see until much later).
In today’s readings we learn something about the way that God connects with us, through the humanity of Jesus. In Isaiah 53:4, a prophetic verse about the coming of Jesus, we have read that, “Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows.”
We know from verse 5 of the gospel reading that Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. He is moved to tears by the grief of his friends. His connection with them, and with us, meant that Jesus could weep with them, and can still weep with each one of us, and with the entire world.
This story however, isn’t just about grief. It is also about hope. You know the end of the story, so let’s just put that on hold for a minute and look at some other stuff first.
There are two other stories of Jesus encountering dead people, and they build on each other:
In the first story of Jairus’ daughter (Mark 5:34-42) Jesus restores a dead girl – newly dead, and he does it in private. Seeing Jesus, he fell at his feet and pleaded earnestly with him, "My little daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live." So Jesus went with him.
In the second he finds a funeral procession on the way to bury the widows son at Nain (Luke 7:11-16), and he restores him to life. This is more public, but the death is still quite recent; it is normal in hot countries to bury people the same day. When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, "Don't cry."
In both stories we can see God’s heart of compassion reaching out to those who grieved and were troubled.
So now we come back to our story.
Lazarus has been dead for at least four days. The spirit was believed to have left the body after three days, and we know from Martha’s comment about the smell that those present were quite realistic about what they might normally find inside a tomb. Dead is dead, and nature will have its course.
By the way, did you notice that it was Martha who came out to meet Jesus first, and was the first to announce that it still isn’t too late to save Lazarus? She believed in the possibility of a miracle, but she still half-expected a smell. Aren’t we so like her at times? Yet God can work despite our doubts.
And again we can see that Jesus is disturbed by grief (v33)“When Jesus saw Mary weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.”
Was it just the death of his friend that disturbed him? Might Jesus have been looking forwards to his own death, only days away? Is John, the master story-teller of this gospel giving us clues about the story to come, laying the foundations so that we can see the similarities but also recognise the differences?
I’d like to propose that this story has some parallels with the story of the crucifixion; that this story looks forwards in time.
Both Martha and Mary say to Jesus that if he had been there Lazarus wouldn’t have died. If Jesus could have saved Lazarus from dying, then he could surely have saved himself. But he chose not to. Jesus’ love, God’s love is unselfish. It always seeks the good of others, and so it took Jesus to the cross.
Just as with Jairus’ daughter, and the son of the widow at Nain, Lazarus is restored to life. In the case of Lazarus, they roll away the stone and Lazarus comes out still wearing his grave clothes. He, like others is restored but not resurrected. He will die again another time. This story has moved us forwards in understanding that not only is God is more powerful even than death, but that God’s love for humanity is more powerful than death. There is more to come.
In Jesus’ story, the stone has been rolled away before anyone gets there, and the grave clothes are left behind. Jesus is resurrected, not restored. And in that resurrection we gain the opportunity to join with Jesus.
In a metaphor of our Christian life, Lazarus is dead, and Jesus calls him. He responds to that call by coming out of the grave and back into life. We too are dead without Jesus, and it is only when we too answer God's call that we too come out into the light and life of faith. All we have to do is hear and respond.
When we answer we come, not to our old life restored but to a new life, something completely different – to a share in the resurrected life of Jesus – not back to ourselves as individuals but to a community of faith that is church through time and geography.
Today is All Saints Day, and it is the day when we celebrate the life of all those who have lived in a way that reflects the light and love of God. That is why the altar frontal and my stole are in gold and white - a visual reminder of that light and love.
When the Romans executed Jesus they were hoping to kill, not just the man, but the trouble he was causing – his mission. By turning that death on its head in the resurrection Jesus ensured that his mission continued and grew.
Many of the people we honour as Saints died continuing the non-violent mission of bringing God’s love into this world, some as martyrs, but all as faithful witnesses.
That is what we seek to be.
In many ways, each person who has died in faith as a saint, and those of us who are trying, however imperfectly, to live as Christians in the world today, are saints-in-progress.
My prayer is that like Jesus at the grave of his friend Lazarus:
1. that we too may be filled with the outward-looking love and compassion of Christ;
2. that we can draw on our own experiences of loss and grief to enable us to look on those who suffer, with that compassion;
3. that we too, like Jesus, will look on those in pain and weep with them;
4. that we too will learn that the ultimate love is focused not on our own needs but on meeting the needs of others, and that we too might shine like saints as we reflect the love of God to others.
Closer to our own history; the death of Princess Diana touched something in many of us and we grieved; it had significance in our lives. Recently the death of Boys Own pop singer Stephen Gately has triggered strong feelings of grief among people younger than me. This week saw the death of Norman Painting who had played the part of Phil Archer for sixty years. For many of us he was part of our history, and his passing has also been well-marked by the media.
The deaths of people we didn’t know can touch us in ways that can take us by surprise. Psychologists tell us that although our empathy and our sympathy is for others, that empathy is enabled by our own experience and the depths of grief that we each carry. If we have never felt pain how can we imagine pain in another person? Empathy is, in some way, a connection with others that happens as a result of our own wounds – a positive benefit (albeit one that we often don’t see until much later).
In today’s readings we learn something about the way that God connects with us, through the humanity of Jesus. In Isaiah 53:4, a prophetic verse about the coming of Jesus, we have read that, “Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows.”
We know from verse 5 of the gospel reading that Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. He is moved to tears by the grief of his friends. His connection with them, and with us, meant that Jesus could weep with them, and can still weep with each one of us, and with the entire world.
This story however, isn’t just about grief. It is also about hope. You know the end of the story, so let’s just put that on hold for a minute and look at some other stuff first.
There are two other stories of Jesus encountering dead people, and they build on each other:
In the first story of Jairus’ daughter (Mark 5:34-42) Jesus restores a dead girl – newly dead, and he does it in private. Seeing Jesus, he fell at his feet and pleaded earnestly with him, "My little daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live." So Jesus went with him.
In the second he finds a funeral procession on the way to bury the widows son at Nain (Luke 7:11-16), and he restores him to life. This is more public, but the death is still quite recent; it is normal in hot countries to bury people the same day. When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, "Don't cry."
In both stories we can see God’s heart of compassion reaching out to those who grieved and were troubled.
So now we come back to our story.
Lazarus has been dead for at least four days. The spirit was believed to have left the body after three days, and we know from Martha’s comment about the smell that those present were quite realistic about what they might normally find inside a tomb. Dead is dead, and nature will have its course.
By the way, did you notice that it was Martha who came out to meet Jesus first, and was the first to announce that it still isn’t too late to save Lazarus? She believed in the possibility of a miracle, but she still half-expected a smell. Aren’t we so like her at times? Yet God can work despite our doubts.
And again we can see that Jesus is disturbed by grief (v33)“When Jesus saw Mary weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.”
Was it just the death of his friend that disturbed him? Might Jesus have been looking forwards to his own death, only days away? Is John, the master story-teller of this gospel giving us clues about the story to come, laying the foundations so that we can see the similarities but also recognise the differences?
I’d like to propose that this story has some parallels with the story of the crucifixion; that this story looks forwards in time.
Both Martha and Mary say to Jesus that if he had been there Lazarus wouldn’t have died. If Jesus could have saved Lazarus from dying, then he could surely have saved himself. But he chose not to. Jesus’ love, God’s love is unselfish. It always seeks the good of others, and so it took Jesus to the cross.
Just as with Jairus’ daughter, and the son of the widow at Nain, Lazarus is restored to life. In the case of Lazarus, they roll away the stone and Lazarus comes out still wearing his grave clothes. He, like others is restored but not resurrected. He will die again another time. This story has moved us forwards in understanding that not only is God is more powerful even than death, but that God’s love for humanity is more powerful than death. There is more to come.
In Jesus’ story, the stone has been rolled away before anyone gets there, and the grave clothes are left behind. Jesus is resurrected, not restored. And in that resurrection we gain the opportunity to join with Jesus.
In a metaphor of our Christian life, Lazarus is dead, and Jesus calls him. He responds to that call by coming out of the grave and back into life. We too are dead without Jesus, and it is only when we too answer God's call that we too come out into the light and life of faith. All we have to do is hear and respond.
When we answer we come, not to our old life restored but to a new life, something completely different – to a share in the resurrected life of Jesus – not back to ourselves as individuals but to a community of faith that is church through time and geography.
Today is All Saints Day, and it is the day when we celebrate the life of all those who have lived in a way that reflects the light and love of God. That is why the altar frontal and my stole are in gold and white - a visual reminder of that light and love.
When the Romans executed Jesus they were hoping to kill, not just the man, but the trouble he was causing – his mission. By turning that death on its head in the resurrection Jesus ensured that his mission continued and grew.
Many of the people we honour as Saints died continuing the non-violent mission of bringing God’s love into this world, some as martyrs, but all as faithful witnesses.
That is what we seek to be.
In many ways, each person who has died in faith as a saint, and those of us who are trying, however imperfectly, to live as Christians in the world today, are saints-in-progress.
My prayer is that like Jesus at the grave of his friend Lazarus:
1. that we too may be filled with the outward-looking love and compassion of Christ;
2. that we can draw on our own experiences of loss and grief to enable us to look on those who suffer, with that compassion;
3. that we too, like Jesus, will look on those in pain and weep with them;
4. that we too will learn that the ultimate love is focused not on our own needs but on meeting the needs of others, and that we too might shine like saints as we reflect the love of God to others.
Sunday, 25 October 2009
Sermon: 25th October 2009 - Mark 10:46-52
There is a sermon that I haven't preached. In fact I haven't written it down. It is about Plato and Socrates and Timaeus and tektons approaching death, and was triggered by a sceptical commmentary on Mark's gospel. However, to write it would only be an academic exercise and the true value of any sermon is that itch transmitted to others; the challenge to think differently, or to allow God's grace to reassure and to comfort, or to take our understanding and worship to new places.
Today I spoke most of what is written here, but the writing was unomfortable. I felt called to say it, but concerned about the reaction of the listeners. When discussing it with my partner I kept getting the advice, "Don't talk about that. Talk about Bartimaeus." Not much reassurance there. To re-balance the advice, the response was, "Don't know what you were worried about - that was fine." I smiled.
So I wrote and I spoke, and people were gracious. It provoked discussion, as I thought it might, but people were more positively inclined than I expected. See what you think?
(By the way, few sermons have been posted recently; that is simply a feature of a busy life. I won't promise that will change any time soon.)
My grandfather was deaf. He wore a hearing aid, and when he didn’t want to hear what was being said he would turn it off, lean back in his chair and close his eyes. “There’s none so deaf as those who don’t want to hear” was a phrase I heard many times in my childhood. And I would add, “nor so blind as those who do not want to see.” My grandfather wasn’t the only person that this could be said of. I think it's a family trait; it applies to all the members of my family - my Chritian family that is.
So today, the last Sunday before we start the countdown to Advent, we are coming towards the end of the church year and our series on Mark’s gospel. The big question that permeates Mark’s gospel is ‘Who is this man?’ And we, the reader, know who this is because Mark has told us in the first lines of the gospel, “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God’. So, to paraphrase Rolf Harris, “Can you see who it is yet?”
The disciples couldn’t see who Jesus was at first, although they knew he was special enough to leave their previous lives and follow him. They didn’t have the advantage of the first sentence of the gospel so they had to work it out as they went along. But we’re now quite a long way along the story. The transfiguration has revealed who Jesus is, and they are able to see, albeit not quite as clearly as they will later on. As a way of illustrating this we have read the healing of the blind man in two stages – remember he could see men walking ‘like trees’ first, then he could see clearly. That’s where we are in the journey.
Jesus has been touring the Judean desert and the Jordan, teaching and healing, and he is now returning, with a multitude of people, from Jericho, uphill on his final journey to Passover in Jerusalem – via the Mount of Olives on Palm Sunday, about 8 hours walk away. The question remains, “Who is this man?” It’s decision time. Some people are afraid because they hear Jesus talk of being killed. Some, like James and John, want a share in the glory – few people see clearly that this man is their hope.
And then the crowd passes a blind beggar and we discover again that it is the people with less invested in society; those for whom the world isn’t a place of bounty and reward, who are best able to deal with that dissonance – that difference between the Messiah they expect, and the man walking uphill on a hot day. I wonder if it’s easier to challenge when there’s less to lose from the status quo? Is that, perhaps, a challenge for us today?
So what is special about this beggar on the side of the road?
He recognises who Jesus is and he calls him by a name that shows his insight. He calls him “Son of David”. He also addresses Jesus as “Rabboni”. The only other place we hear that name is when Mary Magdalen meets the risen Jesus in the garden. This blind man can see who Jesus is, he believes Jesus can help him, and he’s ready to accept that grace. When Jesus calls him, he throws his cloak aside. He left what he had to come to meet Jesus, just as the disciples left their nets when they were called – so unlike the rich man in the previous story, who went away rich, but sad.
When Jesus asks the beggar the same question that he asked the rich man, ‘What do you want?’ the man answers, “I want to see”. I think he can already see better than most.
He makes his request and he’s healed; and then we see that he really has understood. He doesn’t then go back to his life as a beggar, or go on a different journey. He throws in his lot with Jesus and follows him along the road – the road that leads to the cross and the resurrection.
This fulfils the prophecies in
This is about personal salvation, through faith, but not just about an individual decision. Bartimaeus joined ‘the way’ – the group of people that were followers of Jesus. Just as in marriage, so it is in church, the decision and the commitment is yours and yours alone, but you can’t do it on your own. Christianity is a corporate religion – Christ didn’t die for himself – he died for us – as individuals and as a group, even for those whose views we might find distasteful.
We commit, when we are baptised and confirmed, to membership of the group that is Church – this church, the Church of England – with its diversity of people and its inheritance of faith seeking understanding. And within the Church of England we are also part of the mainstream churches through history, with direct links to those Apostles on the Jericho Road, through the orders of ministry from those earliest days.
We share agreements with the Orthodox and Catholic Churches of the East and West, we recognise each other’s Baptism. Despite this week’s controversy over the Roman Catholic Church offering a home for disaffected Anglicans we do try to stand together. We share the same Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, the 10 Commandments, many of the same books of the Bible – and that, despite centuries of cultural difference and interpretation.
We are in full communion with the Methodists and United Reform Churches, and through the Anglican Communion we share our faith with millions of Christians throughout the world. We will say later, “This is our faith.” All the churches I’ve mentioned share that faith.
We’re going to use Eucharistic Prayer B today – of the 8 Eucharistic prayers available to us, this one is based on the oldest known communion liturgy from the second century. This is the prayer of the church that was founded by the Apostles, which would have included people like the grandchildren of Bartimaeus, those who said almost the same words in another language – it is their gift to us. We are using this today as a way of reminding us that we are members of the church of Christ throughout the ages.
We also share much with members of many dissenting churches. I find it possible to worship as a guest in a Baptist Church even though I’m aware of some important differences in doctrine (we don’t yet recognise each other’s baptism) because I know that we are worshipping the trinity of God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. There is more to unite us than to divide us, and for millions of people, not just those alive today, but those who have lived before us, we are brothers and sisters in Christ.
So when we come onto our Eucharistic Prayer, and we finally reach the sentence, “We break this bread to share in one body”, our reply is “Though we are many, we are one body because we all share in the one bread” that ‘one body’ does not mean any one of us as a blind individual.
This is a corporate act of committed people, joined in faith in the resurrected Jesus, and we welcome those who are visitors from other church backgrounds as well as those who are taking communion prior to confirmation, to join us as that one body, one family today.
When we finally answer that question, “Can you see who it is yet?” and answer 'Yes', our world changes, and we see, not in monochrome but glorious colour.
As we approach communion as the community that is church, maybe we could all still our thoughts and our hearts as we share the words prayed by so many Christians through so many centuries that tell the story and give thanks for our salvation through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen
Today I spoke most of what is written here, but the writing was unomfortable. I felt called to say it, but concerned about the reaction of the listeners. When discussing it with my partner I kept getting the advice, "Don't talk about that. Talk about Bartimaeus." Not much reassurance there. To re-balance the advice, the response was, "Don't know what you were worried about - that was fine." I smiled.
So I wrote and I spoke, and people were gracious. It provoked discussion, as I thought it might, but people were more positively inclined than I expected. See what you think?
(By the way, few sermons have been posted recently; that is simply a feature of a busy life. I won't promise that will change any time soon.)
My grandfather was deaf. He wore a hearing aid, and when he didn’t want to hear what was being said he would turn it off, lean back in his chair and close his eyes. “There’s none so deaf as those who don’t want to hear” was a phrase I heard many times in my childhood. And I would add, “nor so blind as those who do not want to see.” My grandfather wasn’t the only person that this could be said of. I think it's a family trait; it applies to all the members of my family - my Chritian family that is.
So today, the last Sunday before we start the countdown to Advent, we are coming towards the end of the church year and our series on Mark’s gospel. The big question that permeates Mark’s gospel is ‘Who is this man?’ And we, the reader, know who this is because Mark has told us in the first lines of the gospel, “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God’. So, to paraphrase Rolf Harris, “Can you see who it is yet?”
The disciples couldn’t see who Jesus was at first, although they knew he was special enough to leave their previous lives and follow him. They didn’t have the advantage of the first sentence of the gospel so they had to work it out as they went along. But we’re now quite a long way along the story. The transfiguration has revealed who Jesus is, and they are able to see, albeit not quite as clearly as they will later on. As a way of illustrating this we have read the healing of the blind man in two stages – remember he could see men walking ‘like trees’ first, then he could see clearly. That’s where we are in the journey.
Jesus has been touring the Judean desert and the Jordan, teaching and healing, and he is now returning, with a multitude of people, from Jericho, uphill on his final journey to Passover in Jerusalem – via the Mount of Olives on Palm Sunday, about 8 hours walk away. The question remains, “Who is this man?” It’s decision time. Some people are afraid because they hear Jesus talk of being killed. Some, like James and John, want a share in the glory – few people see clearly that this man is their hope.
And then the crowd passes a blind beggar and we discover again that it is the people with less invested in society; those for whom the world isn’t a place of bounty and reward, who are best able to deal with that dissonance – that difference between the Messiah they expect, and the man walking uphill on a hot day. I wonder if it’s easier to challenge when there’s less to lose from the status quo? Is that, perhaps, a challenge for us today?
So what is special about this beggar on the side of the road?
He recognises who Jesus is and he calls him by a name that shows his insight. He calls him “Son of David”. He also addresses Jesus as “Rabboni”. The only other place we hear that name is when Mary Magdalen meets the risen Jesus in the garden. This blind man can see who Jesus is, he believes Jesus can help him, and he’s ready to accept that grace. When Jesus calls him, he throws his cloak aside. He left what he had to come to meet Jesus, just as the disciples left their nets when they were called – so unlike the rich man in the previous story, who went away rich, but sad.
When Jesus asks the beggar the same question that he asked the rich man, ‘What do you want?’ the man answers, “I want to see”. I think he can already see better than most.
He makes his request and he’s healed; and then we see that he really has understood. He doesn’t then go back to his life as a beggar, or go on a different journey. He throws in his lot with Jesus and follows him along the road – the road that leads to the cross and the resurrection.
This fulfils the prophecies in
Isaiah 29:18 “In that day the deaf will hear the words of the scroll, and out of
gloom and darkness the eyes of the blind will see.”
Isaiah 35:5-6 “Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the
deaf unstopped. 6 Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue
shout for joy. Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the
desert.”
Isaiah 61:1 “The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD
has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the
broken-hearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness
for the prisoners.”
So we have a blind man healed, following Jesus. What has it got to do with us?
Well, there are two points for us all to think about today, because like Bartimaeus, once we recognise Jesus as divine, we have to start to make making choices. When we accept the forgiveness, compassion, love and mercy that sets us free, and make our relationship with Jesus a priority, the priority in our lives, we then set out, like Bartimaeus, on a journey with Jesus that will last for the rest of our lives.
Part of that is about learning about God’s will for this world. It can be very easy to see our faith as a kind of bubble that is all about us – but you know that's not true.
Because when we start to read God’s word in Scripture, we find that the sentences that we can so easily gloss over, actually speak of major themes in God’s will. The one passage of Scripture
that we hear of Jesus reading is that last one from Isaiah – let’s look at it
again from Luke 4:18. “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed
me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for
the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the
oppressed.”
Themes of justice, a preferential option for the poor, unity, release from oppression, care for the vulnerable, care for creation run through the Bible, and we are challenged to notice, and to act.
We saw the video clip earlier, about Advent Conspiracy, that ministry to provide clean drinking water to villages around the world, which will help save thousands of lives, and I’m challenged by that. As a staff team we are also thinking about what we could do in place of our Secret Santa this year – we’ll let you know what we decide J. I hope it challenges you too, and no, I’m not going to tell you what you should do – other than remind you of the four themes, and suggest that you commit the idea to prayer:
- Worship Fully
- Spend Less
- Give More
- Love All
This is about personal salvation, through faith, but not just about an individual decision. Bartimaeus joined ‘the way’ – the group of people that were followers of Jesus. Just as in marriage, so it is in church, the decision and the commitment is yours and yours alone, but you can’t do it on your own. Christianity is a corporate religion – Christ didn’t die for himself – he died for us – as individuals and as a group, even for those whose views we might find distasteful.
We commit, when we are baptised and confirmed, to membership of the group that is Church – this church, the Church of England – with its diversity of people and its inheritance of faith seeking understanding. And within the Church of England we are also part of the mainstream churches through history, with direct links to those Apostles on the Jericho Road, through the orders of ministry from those earliest days.
We share agreements with the Orthodox and Catholic Churches of the East and West, we recognise each other’s Baptism. Despite this week’s controversy over the Roman Catholic Church offering a home for disaffected Anglicans we do try to stand together. We share the same Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, the 10 Commandments, many of the same books of the Bible – and that, despite centuries of cultural difference and interpretation.
We are in full communion with the Methodists and United Reform Churches, and through the Anglican Communion we share our faith with millions of Christians throughout the world. We will say later, “This is our faith.” All the churches I’ve mentioned share that faith.
We’re going to use Eucharistic Prayer B today – of the 8 Eucharistic prayers available to us, this one is based on the oldest known communion liturgy from the second century. This is the prayer of the church that was founded by the Apostles, which would have included people like the grandchildren of Bartimaeus, those who said almost the same words in another language – it is their gift to us. We are using this today as a way of reminding us that we are members of the church of Christ throughout the ages.
We also share much with members of many dissenting churches. I find it possible to worship as a guest in a Baptist Church even though I’m aware of some important differences in doctrine (we don’t yet recognise each other’s baptism) because I know that we are worshipping the trinity of God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. There is more to unite us than to divide us, and for millions of people, not just those alive today, but those who have lived before us, we are brothers and sisters in Christ.
So when we come onto our Eucharistic Prayer, and we finally reach the sentence, “We break this bread to share in one body”, our reply is “Though we are many, we are one body because we all share in the one bread” that ‘one body’ does not mean any one of us as a blind individual.
This is a corporate act of committed people, joined in faith in the resurrected Jesus, and we welcome those who are visitors from other church backgrounds as well as those who are taking communion prior to confirmation, to join us as that one body, one family today.
When we finally answer that question, “Can you see who it is yet?” and answer 'Yes', our world changes, and we see, not in monochrome but glorious colour.
As we approach communion as the community that is church, maybe we could all still our thoughts and our hearts as we share the words prayed by so many Christians through so many centuries that tell the story and give thanks for our salvation through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen
Sunday, 6 September 2009
Sermon: 6th September 2009 - Mark 7:24-37
Hearing Dogs for the Deaf - that is the charity that the children in the church chose to support and raise funds for between now and Christmas, as a result of their own study of this passage. It was amusing and moving when they reported back at the end of the service, as this decision manages to combine both stories in a creative and useful way to benefit others. Oh what we learn from children!
Here is my less adequate take on the text.
Last week we read the first part of Chapter 7 of Mark’s gospel, which was ostensibly about hand-washing, and this week we follow on from that with a story of Jesus insulting a Gentile woman and then healing two Gentiles.
Last week I talked about this part of Mark’s gospel showing us the progression of Jesus’ mission, through unclean hands to unclean people i.e. Gentiles, and I suggested that Jesus was saying that even Gentiles are acceptable to God; that although the passage seemed to be an argument about man-made tradition and God’s law, it was actually about more than hand-washing – it was about the overflowing love that includes us in God’s salvation plan – love in action.
Today I want to talk a bit more about that, and to show that this passage today is also about abundance.
Before I move on to look at the specifics of this story, I’d like to take a helicopter view of this part of Mark’s gospel, and you might find it easier to follow if you have your bible open.
I see this story as part of a set that starts at Mark 6:34, where Jesus feeds five thousand. The story implies that these are Jewish people, and the twelve baskets left over is enough, symbolically, for the twelve tribes of Israel to have one basket each. The generosity is overflowing and there is plenty to go around. While we may feel uncomfortable with that, I think the message here is clearly that Jesus has come to feed the Jews.
In the next instalment, in Chapter 7, the boundaries between clean and unclean, Jew and Gentile start to dissolve. The overflowing generosity, grace and love that God has for humanity is there to feed, firstly the Jews, but is now starting to include Gentiles, and purity becomes something that we reflect because our hearts are engaged, rather than simply because we are told what to do. This is the moment when our story, our Gentile story, is grafted into the history of the Jews to become the history of humanity.
Moving swiftly on we see today’s story of healing two Gentiles, and then to come - another story of feeding – this time of four thousand, many of who would have been Gentiles, with seven baskets of food left over. The boundaries of love are overflowing.
Coming back down to earth, today’s story shows the beginning of God’s direct mission to the Gentiles.
Jesus had moved into Gentile territory – north to Tyre – 40 miles north-west of Capernaum. (Sidon is another 26 miles north-east of Tyre). Jesus was a long way from Galilee, well into Gentile territory. Despite his attempts to travel quietly, his fame had spread and a Greek woman heard of his healing ministry and came looking for him.
Tyre was wealthy. She was probably better educated and from a higher social class than Jesus so for her to seek him out would have been socially unacceptable to her. Likewise, as a Jew, Jesus would not have been expected to speak to her because she was Gentile, a woman, and she had a demon-possessed daughter – contact with any one of those three would have made him ritually unclean – put all three together and you can see that Mark is making a powerful point about breaking down barriers.
Yet, her need was great. Her love was great. Her daughter was ill, and she loved her daughter and wanted her to be well. She was helpless to change the situation in her own strength, and she was willing to do whatever was necessary to make her daughter well. She had heard of Jesus and she wanted him to heal her daughter. So she came to visit Jesus and she fell at his feet. She begged him to heal her daughter. As in other healing stories, Jesus didn’t turn her away, but he did point out that he needed to feed the children first- in other words, his mission was firstly to the Jews, not to her.
I think Jesus was quite rude. Some preachers and commentators have tried to dilute what Jesus said by saying he had a twinkle in his eye, or that the word he used actually meant pet dogs rather than wild dogs (which it did). Yet we know that ‘dog’ remains an insult in Middle Eastern countries to this day, and we have similar terms of abuse in our own society. I struggle to see how this was anything less than an insult, and I think it is important to the story that we recognise this.
Because this woman was not one of the Pharisees and teachers of the law that we read about last week, and she was not going to be diverted by outward appearances, even by Jesus’ language. She didn’t hear the words at face value and go away insulted. This wasn’t about her pride, her ego, her view of herself – if it were, would she have been kneeling at the feet of a Jewish artisan preacher?
The woman didn’t want words; she wanted the active love that would express itself in healing for the person she loved. She knew what she wanted and she hoped and trusted that Jesus could supply it.
She didn’t argue about whether or not it was fair for God to choose to favour the Jews. We know from Genesis 18:18 that Abraham was promised that through him all the nations would be blessed. Her reply assumed that generosity, and she used words in response, but turning the argument to her favour.
Like the Samaritan woman by the well in another story, she had a quick mind and was able to reply with an intelligent and reasoned argument – “- isn’t there enough for everyone? Even the left-over’s would be enough?” And of course, the answer was yes. God’s overflowing abundant love was sufficient – it wasn’t rationed, and in trust she was able to go home and find that her daughter had been healed. Her loving heart and the loving heart of God were in tune.
The second story tells of a deaf man being healed, again in Gentile territory, this itme further south in the Decapolis (the ten cities) and draws our attention to another theme that runs through Mark – that of hearing.
In Mark 4:9, Jesus said, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." The disciples struggled to really hear, to understand what was happening. And here we have a story of a deaf man being healed. Jesus healed his hearing, and enabling him to speak. Here we have a story of God teaching the Gentiles to hear, through the healing work of Jesus. That is what God does for all of us when we are prepared to listen. Do we then go on to speak clearly – to share what we have heard?
The Syrophoenician woman heard that Jesus was nearby and responded quickly – in contrast to those at the centre of Judaism, she was able to listen and to hear, and then to act on what she had heard.There are echoes of the reading today in our prayer of humble access, when we say, “we are not worthy even to eat the crumbs from under your table”. This is a simple statement of fact. In our own right we are not worthy; nothing we have gained is because we are intrinsically good enough, but because of the overflowing love that God has for us, the salvation that Jesus achieved for us, the resurrection that we are a part of through our faith.
It is our faith that ensures we, Gentiles, have a place at the table; it is our faith that has made us a part of the family. And it is our faith that encourages us to go and tell other people about this wonderful love, and offer them the chance to sit at the table and eat, because God’s love is not limited to us, any more than it was limited to the Jews; it is abundant and overflowing, and there is plenty to go round. All we have to do is have faith, then come and eat.
Here is my less adequate take on the text.
Last week we read the first part of Chapter 7 of Mark’s gospel, which was ostensibly about hand-washing, and this week we follow on from that with a story of Jesus insulting a Gentile woman and then healing two Gentiles.
Last week I talked about this part of Mark’s gospel showing us the progression of Jesus’ mission, through unclean hands to unclean people i.e. Gentiles, and I suggested that Jesus was saying that even Gentiles are acceptable to God; that although the passage seemed to be an argument about man-made tradition and God’s law, it was actually about more than hand-washing – it was about the overflowing love that includes us in God’s salvation plan – love in action.
Today I want to talk a bit more about that, and to show that this passage today is also about abundance.
Before I move on to look at the specifics of this story, I’d like to take a helicopter view of this part of Mark’s gospel, and you might find it easier to follow if you have your bible open.
I see this story as part of a set that starts at Mark 6:34, where Jesus feeds five thousand. The story implies that these are Jewish people, and the twelve baskets left over is enough, symbolically, for the twelve tribes of Israel to have one basket each. The generosity is overflowing and there is plenty to go around. While we may feel uncomfortable with that, I think the message here is clearly that Jesus has come to feed the Jews.
In the next instalment, in Chapter 7, the boundaries between clean and unclean, Jew and Gentile start to dissolve. The overflowing generosity, grace and love that God has for humanity is there to feed, firstly the Jews, but is now starting to include Gentiles, and purity becomes something that we reflect because our hearts are engaged, rather than simply because we are told what to do. This is the moment when our story, our Gentile story, is grafted into the history of the Jews to become the history of humanity.
Moving swiftly on we see today’s story of healing two Gentiles, and then to come - another story of feeding – this time of four thousand, many of who would have been Gentiles, with seven baskets of food left over. The boundaries of love are overflowing.
Coming back down to earth, today’s story shows the beginning of God’s direct mission to the Gentiles.
Jesus had moved into Gentile territory – north to Tyre – 40 miles north-west of Capernaum. (Sidon is another 26 miles north-east of Tyre). Jesus was a long way from Galilee, well into Gentile territory. Despite his attempts to travel quietly, his fame had spread and a Greek woman heard of his healing ministry and came looking for him.
Tyre was wealthy. She was probably better educated and from a higher social class than Jesus so for her to seek him out would have been socially unacceptable to her. Likewise, as a Jew, Jesus would not have been expected to speak to her because she was Gentile, a woman, and she had a demon-possessed daughter – contact with any one of those three would have made him ritually unclean – put all three together and you can see that Mark is making a powerful point about breaking down barriers.
Yet, her need was great. Her love was great. Her daughter was ill, and she loved her daughter and wanted her to be well. She was helpless to change the situation in her own strength, and she was willing to do whatever was necessary to make her daughter well. She had heard of Jesus and she wanted him to heal her daughter. So she came to visit Jesus and she fell at his feet. She begged him to heal her daughter. As in other healing stories, Jesus didn’t turn her away, but he did point out that he needed to feed the children first- in other words, his mission was firstly to the Jews, not to her.
I think Jesus was quite rude. Some preachers and commentators have tried to dilute what Jesus said by saying he had a twinkle in his eye, or that the word he used actually meant pet dogs rather than wild dogs (which it did). Yet we know that ‘dog’ remains an insult in Middle Eastern countries to this day, and we have similar terms of abuse in our own society. I struggle to see how this was anything less than an insult, and I think it is important to the story that we recognise this.
Because this woman was not one of the Pharisees and teachers of the law that we read about last week, and she was not going to be diverted by outward appearances, even by Jesus’ language. She didn’t hear the words at face value and go away insulted. This wasn’t about her pride, her ego, her view of herself – if it were, would she have been kneeling at the feet of a Jewish artisan preacher?
The woman didn’t want words; she wanted the active love that would express itself in healing for the person she loved. She knew what she wanted and she hoped and trusted that Jesus could supply it.
She didn’t argue about whether or not it was fair for God to choose to favour the Jews. We know from Genesis 18:18 that Abraham was promised that through him all the nations would be blessed. Her reply assumed that generosity, and she used words in response, but turning the argument to her favour.
Like the Samaritan woman by the well in another story, she had a quick mind and was able to reply with an intelligent and reasoned argument – “- isn’t there enough for everyone? Even the left-over’s would be enough?” And of course, the answer was yes. God’s overflowing abundant love was sufficient – it wasn’t rationed, and in trust she was able to go home and find that her daughter had been healed. Her loving heart and the loving heart of God were in tune.
The second story tells of a deaf man being healed, again in Gentile territory, this itme further south in the Decapolis (the ten cities) and draws our attention to another theme that runs through Mark – that of hearing.
In Mark 4:9, Jesus said, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." The disciples struggled to really hear, to understand what was happening. And here we have a story of a deaf man being healed. Jesus healed his hearing, and enabling him to speak. Here we have a story of God teaching the Gentiles to hear, through the healing work of Jesus. That is what God does for all of us when we are prepared to listen. Do we then go on to speak clearly – to share what we have heard?
The Syrophoenician woman heard that Jesus was nearby and responded quickly – in contrast to those at the centre of Judaism, she was able to listen and to hear, and then to act on what she had heard.There are echoes of the reading today in our prayer of humble access, when we say, “we are not worthy even to eat the crumbs from under your table”. This is a simple statement of fact. In our own right we are not worthy; nothing we have gained is because we are intrinsically good enough, but because of the overflowing love that God has for us, the salvation that Jesus achieved for us, the resurrection that we are a part of through our faith.
It is our faith that ensures we, Gentiles, have a place at the table; it is our faith that has made us a part of the family. And it is our faith that encourages us to go and tell other people about this wonderful love, and offer them the chance to sit at the table and eat, because God’s love is not limited to us, any more than it was limited to the Jews; it is abundant and overflowing, and there is plenty to go round. All we have to do is have faith, then come and eat.
Sermon: 30th August - Mark 7:1-8,14-15,21-23
"The law and the heart - are they really opposites?"
We are celebrating a communion service today, so you will be relieved to know that I have washed my hands, and will apply an alcohol gel rub before touching the bread.
I am doing this for two reasons; one is that I have been recommended to behave like this by the Bishop of St Albans, and I have taken a canonical oath to obey all lawful commands that he gives me. This isn’t actually a command as such, but the principle will do for the purposes of this sermon. The other reason is that I don’t want to pass on any germs to you, and you might be interested to know that I used alcohol gel before the recommendation was made.
So today’s reading, which appears to be about hand-washing, is quite apt, isn’t it? Or is it?
On the surface this seems to be a debate about tradition versus the law of God, and which one is being treated as most important by the Pharisees and teachers of the law. It seems to be about hand-washing.
However, below the surface is a broader debate about the place of Gentiles in the new order that our Lord is inaugurating. One church, one faith, one Lord.
I think this is a question about why Gentiles are eating with the Jews, and what it means for Jews and for the followers of Jesus. The passage clearly states that all Jews, not just Pharisees, washed their hands. Yet there are people present who have not washed. This suggests that there are Gentiles present and it is this ritual uncleanness created by association with the ‘unclean’ that is being challenged – Jesus is eating with Gentiles.
Why does that matter? We know from other gospel accounts that Jesus ate with tax collectors and sinners so we are not surprised. But to the teachers (and upholder remember) of the law, those who are fulfilling the commands in Deuteronomy 4 to teach the laws and decrees to their children, this was cause for concern.
It must have seemed as if Jesus was breaking the laws that God had given. We know from Matthew 5:17 that Jesus was sent, not to abolish the law, but to fulfil it, but they didn’t know that.
So here we find Jesus, expanding his ministry from the Jews alone to include Gentiles – something that the Jewish leaders would only have expected at the last times when all the nations were expected to flock to Jerusalem. The clues are there, but they do not see who they are talking to.
We look back with 20/20 hindsight so must avoid the temptation to look down on those teachers and preachers who were so tied up with their own task that they didn’t recognise that Jesus had a greater task; that he was the very person they had been praying for.
Mark’s gospel is written in the context of an expanding church, one in which Gentiles were welcomed, as we are now. The fact that Mark has included a comment to explain the Jewish custom of washing suggests that the original audience for this gospel included people who were not familiar with Jewish customs, i.e. Gentile – people like you and me in fact, although I hope we do wash our hands!
I think Mark was trying to say to his Gentile readers – “see, Jesus intended you to be part of his plan, part of his kingdom. All that anyone has to do is repent and believe in Jesus as the Son of God.” Jesus fulfilled the law, and we are the beneficiaries of that. We can be and are a part of it. One church, one faith, one Lord.
But the time that is being written about this hasn’t yet happened. So we have some 20/20 hindsight being applied to this story. That inclusion now of Gentiles is, I think, what Jesus is talking about when he appears to be challenging the purity laws of Leviticus 11 (which is about what kind of living creatures Jews may eat). In this part of the story I think Jesus is using a picture to make a point. He says “Nothing outside a man can make him unclean by going into him… it is what comes out of a man that makes him unclean” – in other words, returning to a point we make frequently, action not feeling is what matters.
We know we are saved by faith, but the epistle from James tells us that faith without deeds is dead. Our behaviour, our actions tell who we are.
As I read this I was reminded forcefully of Mark 12:30-31 “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.' The second is this: 'Love your neighbour as yourself.' There is no commandment greater than these.", and of Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians where he speaks of the need for love.
Paul says, “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal… Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
Compare that list to the list of unclean outpourings that Jesus lists, every one of which is some kind of perversion of love, “evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly”. Most of those are actions too, and they demonstrate how far we fall short of selfless love of God and our neighbour.
I think that Jesus is telling us once again that love, selfless love as he modelled it, is a verb not an intention or a feeling; it is the spirit of love living in us, outworking in our lives that identifies us with God, it is the outpouring of that love in caring action for others that shows us to be one with him in the kingdom.
So what does this have to do with hand-washing?
The Jews had a tradition of washing, which was sensible hygiene practise for people who lived in a hot country where water was scarce, in the days before refrigerators and antibiotics. Jesus isn’t criticising them for holding on to their traditions; he effectively says, as Morna Hooker puts it, “you are so concerned with keeping the letter of the law that you have forgotten the other side of it, the spirit of the law.” I believe the first flows from the second, that the action flows from the change in heart.
For the ignorant, uneducated, or just plain ‘ornery among us the letter of the law is all we have, and whether we agree with individual laws or not, blind obedience is better for our society in many cases than blind disobedience. We too had better wash our hands and wear aprons because the kitchen regulations say we must.
Most dangerous though is the person who may not bother to wash their hands unless someone else is watching – who rejects the spirit and the letter of the law - after all it is simply legalistic nonsense, the nanny state in action…
For those of us who love and care for our fellow humans, and who want to serve them in our shared newness of life through Christ, we want to wash our hands because, understanding the way that disease is spread, we don’t want to make another person ill. One is done from ignorance, the other from a heart of love.
As Gentile inheritors of Christ’s love for all humanity, let us all remember that the heart and the law of God work together to show us how to live in loving, active relationship with each other as one church, one faith, one Lord.
We are celebrating a communion service today, so you will be relieved to know that I have washed my hands, and will apply an alcohol gel rub before touching the bread.
I am doing this for two reasons; one is that I have been recommended to behave like this by the Bishop of St Albans, and I have taken a canonical oath to obey all lawful commands that he gives me. This isn’t actually a command as such, but the principle will do for the purposes of this sermon. The other reason is that I don’t want to pass on any germs to you, and you might be interested to know that I used alcohol gel before the recommendation was made.
So today’s reading, which appears to be about hand-washing, is quite apt, isn’t it? Or is it?
On the surface this seems to be a debate about tradition versus the law of God, and which one is being treated as most important by the Pharisees and teachers of the law. It seems to be about hand-washing.
However, below the surface is a broader debate about the place of Gentiles in the new order that our Lord is inaugurating. One church, one faith, one Lord.
I think this is a question about why Gentiles are eating with the Jews, and what it means for Jews and for the followers of Jesus. The passage clearly states that all Jews, not just Pharisees, washed their hands. Yet there are people present who have not washed. This suggests that there are Gentiles present and it is this ritual uncleanness created by association with the ‘unclean’ that is being challenged – Jesus is eating with Gentiles.
Why does that matter? We know from other gospel accounts that Jesus ate with tax collectors and sinners so we are not surprised. But to the teachers (and upholder remember) of the law, those who are fulfilling the commands in Deuteronomy 4 to teach the laws and decrees to their children, this was cause for concern.
It must have seemed as if Jesus was breaking the laws that God had given. We know from Matthew 5:17 that Jesus was sent, not to abolish the law, but to fulfil it, but they didn’t know that.
So here we find Jesus, expanding his ministry from the Jews alone to include Gentiles – something that the Jewish leaders would only have expected at the last times when all the nations were expected to flock to Jerusalem. The clues are there, but they do not see who they are talking to.
We look back with 20/20 hindsight so must avoid the temptation to look down on those teachers and preachers who were so tied up with their own task that they didn’t recognise that Jesus had a greater task; that he was the very person they had been praying for.
Mark’s gospel is written in the context of an expanding church, one in which Gentiles were welcomed, as we are now. The fact that Mark has included a comment to explain the Jewish custom of washing suggests that the original audience for this gospel included people who were not familiar with Jewish customs, i.e. Gentile – people like you and me in fact, although I hope we do wash our hands!
I think Mark was trying to say to his Gentile readers – “see, Jesus intended you to be part of his plan, part of his kingdom. All that anyone has to do is repent and believe in Jesus as the Son of God.” Jesus fulfilled the law, and we are the beneficiaries of that. We can be and are a part of it. One church, one faith, one Lord.
But the time that is being written about this hasn’t yet happened. So we have some 20/20 hindsight being applied to this story. That inclusion now of Gentiles is, I think, what Jesus is talking about when he appears to be challenging the purity laws of Leviticus 11 (which is about what kind of living creatures Jews may eat). In this part of the story I think Jesus is using a picture to make a point. He says “Nothing outside a man can make him unclean by going into him… it is what comes out of a man that makes him unclean” – in other words, returning to a point we make frequently, action not feeling is what matters.
We know we are saved by faith, but the epistle from James tells us that faith without deeds is dead. Our behaviour, our actions tell who we are.
As I read this I was reminded forcefully of Mark 12:30-31 “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.' The second is this: 'Love your neighbour as yourself.' There is no commandment greater than these.", and of Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians where he speaks of the need for love.
Paul says, “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal… Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
Compare that list to the list of unclean outpourings that Jesus lists, every one of which is some kind of perversion of love, “evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly”. Most of those are actions too, and they demonstrate how far we fall short of selfless love of God and our neighbour.
I think that Jesus is telling us once again that love, selfless love as he modelled it, is a verb not an intention or a feeling; it is the spirit of love living in us, outworking in our lives that identifies us with God, it is the outpouring of that love in caring action for others that shows us to be one with him in the kingdom.
So what does this have to do with hand-washing?
The Jews had a tradition of washing, which was sensible hygiene practise for people who lived in a hot country where water was scarce, in the days before refrigerators and antibiotics. Jesus isn’t criticising them for holding on to their traditions; he effectively says, as Morna Hooker puts it, “you are so concerned with keeping the letter of the law that you have forgotten the other side of it, the spirit of the law.” I believe the first flows from the second, that the action flows from the change in heart.
For the ignorant, uneducated, or just plain ‘ornery among us the letter of the law is all we have, and whether we agree with individual laws or not, blind obedience is better for our society in many cases than blind disobedience. We too had better wash our hands and wear aprons because the kitchen regulations say we must.
Most dangerous though is the person who may not bother to wash their hands unless someone else is watching – who rejects the spirit and the letter of the law - after all it is simply legalistic nonsense, the nanny state in action…
For those of us who love and care for our fellow humans, and who want to serve them in our shared newness of life through Christ, we want to wash our hands because, understanding the way that disease is spread, we don’t want to make another person ill. One is done from ignorance, the other from a heart of love.
As Gentile inheritors of Christ’s love for all humanity, let us all remember that the heart and the law of God work together to show us how to live in loving, active relationship with each other as one church, one faith, one Lord.
Monday, 17 August 2009
Sermon: 16th August 2009 - Baptism
Yesterday I performed my first Baptism at the 'little' church at Bourne End - St John's. I really enjoyed the experience and the service, and remain in a state of wonder that I have been fortunate enough to find myself in this role.
You might wonder why, over a year after being ordained as a deacon, and almost a month after being ordained as a priest, this is my first Baptism (the second is next week at the 'big' church - Sunnyside)
As an evangelical church we don't get lots of requests for baptisms, probably because we ask families to study a 6 week course so that they understand what they are asking for and committing to. If people want to have the ceremony with perhaps, less of an overt commitment for the time being, there are other Anglican churches locally that will help them.
This sermon may sound very familiar. It is. It is based quite closely on the Pastoral Introduction to the Baptism Service, and I have also used an idea I found elsewhere. We didn't have room to include the Pastoral Introduction on the Service Sheet, or the Notice Sheet so it was missed off. There was an argument that to include it would be too 'wordy'.
When I read through the final version of the service that we had printed, I noticed that for an unchurched person, they would leave the church knowing no more about our rather strange customs than when they arrived. This seemed wrong, especially for a church that does explain things.
The other aspect of this decision was that the lectionary reading called for an explantion of transubstantion/communion in Anglican terms, and this again seemed inappropriate for unchurched listeners. If they don't understand Baptism, how can I build on that to explain the Eucharist?
The reasons are above. The text is below. The outcome was that two long-standing members of the regular congregation said that they had never heard such a clear explanation of Baptism in their lives, and that some gaps in their understanding had been filled. Which just goes to show that liturgy teaches (one of my hobby horses!) and that sometimes plagiarism can be a positive thing :-) Thank you to the Archbishop's Council for providing these words that I have adapted.
Let us pray: May the words of my lips and the meditations of our hearts be now and always acceptable in your sight, O Lord our strength and our Redeemer. Amen.
In Hertfordshire it is possible to book a civil ‘naming ceremony’ through the staff of the Registration Service. It costs about £250, and provides a setting in which a family can make promises of commitment to a child. To quote from the publicity, “it has no legal standing, is unconnected with birth registration, cannot be used to change a child’s name and there is no religious content to a ceremony. The certificate issued at a ceremony cannot be used as for identification purposes nor are the promises made legally binding on those that make them.” Despite all the things that it is not, it seems to be based on the Baptism service, and I think that underlines the need we have to celebrate and mark the importance of a child in our lives, and the importance of promises in our lives, even for those with no religious faith.
This is not a naming ceremony, (and there is no charge). This ceremony is a Baptism, and yes, it is about celebration and promises, but it is much more than simply that. The entry in the church register afterwards will confirm this baptism has taken place, and that entry has legal standing.
The Baptism itself, with water in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, is a sign that is recognised by every mainstream Christian church throughout the world – Roman Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, United Reform, Methodist. Baptism in one is valid in all.
For all of us, Baptism marks the beginning of a journey with God which continues for the rest of our lives, the first step in our response to God's love.
In baptism, you as parents are thanking God for the gift of Louie’s life, deciding to start him on the journey of faith and asking for the Church's support.
As Godparents, you will speak on behalf of Louie during the baptism service itself and have also promised to support Anthony and Claire in bringing the child up as a Christian within the family of the Church, so that in due course, he will confirm this faith for himself, come to confirmation and take his place as a full member of the Anglican Church.
It is as if you have put a sum of money into a bank account for Louie, and over the years to come you have the responsibility of helping him to look after it, and teaching him how to manage that until the time that he can take over responsibility for the account himself.
You have all made a public statement of renunciation of the devil and all that is evil and declare that you turn to Christ, and shortly, with the rest of the congregation you will make a declaration of Christian faith based on the ancient statement of Christian belief called the ‘Apostles’ Creed’.
For everyone involved, particularly the candidate but also parents, godparents and sponsors, it is a joyful moment when we rejoice in what God has done for us in Christ, making serious promises and declaring our shared faith.
The service itself paints many vivid pictures in symbols and signs of what happens on the Christian way.
We pray that God will use the water of baptism to cleanse Louie from sin and give him new life as part of His people. What does this word 'sin' mean?
(Here I did a visual illustration of sin/salvation using a handkerchief and some very dirty water, showing us being washed clean by baptism)
Baptism represents our 'drowning' in the water of baptism, where we believe we die to sin and are raised to new life; it unites us to Christ's dying and rising. Water is also a sign of new life, as we are born again by water and the Spirit, and we are reminded of Jesus' baptism.
There is the sign of the cross, the badge of faith in the Christian journey, which reminds us of Christ's death for us on the cross. Making this sign of the cross signifies that from now on Louie belongs to Christ and must be prepared to live as His follower.
When I make the sign of the cross on Louie's forehead, I will be anointing with chrism - note the similarity to the word Christening - the oil of those who are being baptised. This oil was blessed by the Bishop of this Diocese at the Maundy Thursday service at the Cathedral earlier this year, and has been distributed to all the churches in the Diocese. We all use the same oil. It is another symbol of our joint membership of one church. As in the days of the early Church this represents the outpouring of the Holy Spirit.
And as a sign of that new life, we will give Louie a lighted candle, a picture of the light of Christ conquering the darkness of evil. Everyone who is baptized walks in that light for the rest of their lives.
The wider community of the local church and friends welcome the new Christian, also promising support and prayer for the future. Hearing and doing these things provides an opportunity to remember our own baptism and reflect on the progress made on that journey, which is now to be shared with this new member of the Church.
We will also pray that Louie may grow in holiness and may come eventually to share in the life of God’s eternal kingdom.
In Christian baptism our sins are washed clean, we receive the gift of the Holy Spirit, and we receive dignity as a beloved child of God. Every one of us; beloved, with dignity. This is strong imagery, but the images help us to understand real truths about how we are loved by God.
In a few minutes we will move to the font. It is placed next to the entrance because it symbolises our own entrance into faith. I would encourage each person here, as you pass the font later, to reflect on your own baptism and to remind you that you too are God’s beloved son or daughter. Let it remind you that you have been given the Spirit of holiness; let it assure you of God’s love and forgiveness and of your unity with Christ and other Christians through your baptism.
As you pray for Louie, picture him with yourself and the whole Church throughout the ages, journeying into the fullness of God's love. Jesus said, 'I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.' John 10:10
Let us pray: God of grace and life, in your love you have given us a place among your people; keep us faithful to our baptism, and prepare us for that glorious day when the whole creation will be made perfect in your Son our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.
You might wonder why, over a year after being ordained as a deacon, and almost a month after being ordained as a priest, this is my first Baptism (the second is next week at the 'big' church - Sunnyside)
As an evangelical church we don't get lots of requests for baptisms, probably because we ask families to study a 6 week course so that they understand what they are asking for and committing to. If people want to have the ceremony with perhaps, less of an overt commitment for the time being, there are other Anglican churches locally that will help them.
This sermon may sound very familiar. It is. It is based quite closely on the Pastoral Introduction to the Baptism Service, and I have also used an idea I found elsewhere. We didn't have room to include the Pastoral Introduction on the Service Sheet, or the Notice Sheet so it was missed off. There was an argument that to include it would be too 'wordy'.
When I read through the final version of the service that we had printed, I noticed that for an unchurched person, they would leave the church knowing no more about our rather strange customs than when they arrived. This seemed wrong, especially for a church that does explain things.
The other aspect of this decision was that the lectionary reading called for an explantion of transubstantion/communion in Anglican terms, and this again seemed inappropriate for unchurched listeners. If they don't understand Baptism, how can I build on that to explain the Eucharist?
The reasons are above. The text is below. The outcome was that two long-standing members of the regular congregation said that they had never heard such a clear explanation of Baptism in their lives, and that some gaps in their understanding had been filled. Which just goes to show that liturgy teaches (one of my hobby horses!) and that sometimes plagiarism can be a positive thing :-) Thank you to the Archbishop's Council for providing these words that I have adapted.
Let us pray: May the words of my lips and the meditations of our hearts be now and always acceptable in your sight, O Lord our strength and our Redeemer. Amen.
In Hertfordshire it is possible to book a civil ‘naming ceremony’ through the staff of the Registration Service. It costs about £250, and provides a setting in which a family can make promises of commitment to a child. To quote from the publicity, “it has no legal standing, is unconnected with birth registration, cannot be used to change a child’s name and there is no religious content to a ceremony. The certificate issued at a ceremony cannot be used as for identification purposes nor are the promises made legally binding on those that make them.” Despite all the things that it is not, it seems to be based on the Baptism service, and I think that underlines the need we have to celebrate and mark the importance of a child in our lives, and the importance of promises in our lives, even for those with no religious faith.
This is not a naming ceremony, (and there is no charge). This ceremony is a Baptism, and yes, it is about celebration and promises, but it is much more than simply that. The entry in the church register afterwards will confirm this baptism has taken place, and that entry has legal standing.
The Baptism itself, with water in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, is a sign that is recognised by every mainstream Christian church throughout the world – Roman Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, United Reform, Methodist. Baptism in one is valid in all.
For all of us, Baptism marks the beginning of a journey with God which continues for the rest of our lives, the first step in our response to God's love.
In baptism, you as parents are thanking God for the gift of Louie’s life, deciding to start him on the journey of faith and asking for the Church's support.
As Godparents, you will speak on behalf of Louie during the baptism service itself and have also promised to support Anthony and Claire in bringing the child up as a Christian within the family of the Church, so that in due course, he will confirm this faith for himself, come to confirmation and take his place as a full member of the Anglican Church.
It is as if you have put a sum of money into a bank account for Louie, and over the years to come you have the responsibility of helping him to look after it, and teaching him how to manage that until the time that he can take over responsibility for the account himself.
You have all made a public statement of renunciation of the devil and all that is evil and declare that you turn to Christ, and shortly, with the rest of the congregation you will make a declaration of Christian faith based on the ancient statement of Christian belief called the ‘Apostles’ Creed’.
For everyone involved, particularly the candidate but also parents, godparents and sponsors, it is a joyful moment when we rejoice in what God has done for us in Christ, making serious promises and declaring our shared faith.
The service itself paints many vivid pictures in symbols and signs of what happens on the Christian way.
We pray that God will use the water of baptism to cleanse Louie from sin and give him new life as part of His people. What does this word 'sin' mean?
(Here I did a visual illustration of sin/salvation using a handkerchief and some very dirty water, showing us being washed clean by baptism)
Baptism represents our 'drowning' in the water of baptism, where we believe we die to sin and are raised to new life; it unites us to Christ's dying and rising. Water is also a sign of new life, as we are born again by water and the Spirit, and we are reminded of Jesus' baptism.
There is the sign of the cross, the badge of faith in the Christian journey, which reminds us of Christ's death for us on the cross. Making this sign of the cross signifies that from now on Louie belongs to Christ and must be prepared to live as His follower.
When I make the sign of the cross on Louie's forehead, I will be anointing with chrism - note the similarity to the word Christening - the oil of those who are being baptised. This oil was blessed by the Bishop of this Diocese at the Maundy Thursday service at the Cathedral earlier this year, and has been distributed to all the churches in the Diocese. We all use the same oil. It is another symbol of our joint membership of one church. As in the days of the early Church this represents the outpouring of the Holy Spirit.
And as a sign of that new life, we will give Louie a lighted candle, a picture of the light of Christ conquering the darkness of evil. Everyone who is baptized walks in that light for the rest of their lives.
The wider community of the local church and friends welcome the new Christian, also promising support and prayer for the future. Hearing and doing these things provides an opportunity to remember our own baptism and reflect on the progress made on that journey, which is now to be shared with this new member of the Church.
We will also pray that Louie may grow in holiness and may come eventually to share in the life of God’s eternal kingdom.
In Christian baptism our sins are washed clean, we receive the gift of the Holy Spirit, and we receive dignity as a beloved child of God. Every one of us; beloved, with dignity. This is strong imagery, but the images help us to understand real truths about how we are loved by God.
In a few minutes we will move to the font. It is placed next to the entrance because it symbolises our own entrance into faith. I would encourage each person here, as you pass the font later, to reflect on your own baptism and to remind you that you too are God’s beloved son or daughter. Let it remind you that you have been given the Spirit of holiness; let it assure you of God’s love and forgiveness and of your unity with Christ and other Christians through your baptism.
As you pray for Louie, picture him with yourself and the whole Church throughout the ages, journeying into the fullness of God's love. Jesus said, 'I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.' John 10:10
Let us pray: God of grace and life, in your love you have given us a place among your people; keep us faithful to our baptism, and prepare us for that glorious day when the whole creation will be made perfect in your Son our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.
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