It’s a commonly heard remark that our society has lost contact with the cycle of growth and nurturing that is farming. My father was born a farmer and remains that in his heart today. He is a man of the soil - has grown vegetables all of his life – still does.
My children were born in towns, and lived a suburban early life. Much as I enjoy gardens, I am not a gardener, so my children spent their early years believing that peas came out of the freezer in a bag marked ‘Bejam.’ (Remember them?) That was, until a holiday visit to my parents on their retirement smallholding. Imagine the children’s surprise and wonder the first time they saw peas growing, and popped the pods to find the peas inside. If you know anything about children you will also understand that not many of those peas made it indoors; most were eaten in the field where they were picked.
Food production was closer to people’s daily experience in the days before Mr Clarence Birdseye patented plate freezing in 1930 to preserve that ‘sweet as the moment when the pod went pop’ taste.
The Greek word used in Mark’s gospel that describes Jesus’ trade was ‘tekton’, from which we get our modern word, technology. It is often translated as carpenter, but is more accurately a builder, a worker of stone, metal and wood. Modern scholarship and archaeology supports this, and suggests that Jesus probably grew up in Nazareth and worked with his father as a day labourer at the nearby very grand and wealthy Roman city of Sepphoris, 3 miles from Nazareth.
During his walk to and from work each day, Jesus would have had plenty of time to become familiar with the cycles of farming, both arable and stock, and of the fishermen.
It’s no surprise then that, after he leaves Nazareth and starts his ministry Jesus uses images of farming to speak to his followers on the shores of the Lake of Galilee. We know that Jesus was being watched by the local Pharisees and scribes, eager to avoid an insurrection. We can surmise that Romans would also have been interested in what was being said to a crowd, but stories of soil and seeds must have seemed quite boring.
We need to seek the meaning. The major issue that commentators have with all of Jesus’ parables is that the apparent simplicity can yield a number of ever more interesting ideas as the Holy Spirit leads us deeper into understanding of God’s word. In this case I’ll try to avoid going down too many rabbit holes!
In Chapter 4 of Marks gospel we have first, the parable of the soil, then a story about a seed growing, then the parable of the mustard seed. In the middle of these simple farming metaphors Jesus tells his followers (when they are in private) that, ‘that which is hidden is meant to be disclosed’. In other words, there is meaning in the stories that goes beyond the obvious top layer. They are meant to be looking for new meanings, as are we.
Firstly I’d like to say that the mustard plant is not the most attractive you will find. The shores of Lake Galilee are decorated with Jacaranda and other lovely flowering shrubs. Palm trees are decorative and provide useful shade. Mustard is quite unassuming really. It is useful rather than beautiful, but its fruit is valuable spice.
Therefore it has potential. And that is why I would call it one of the ‘small things’ of God. If you think that small means insignificant, think of the fluw virus, or an atom in nuclear fusion. Small can hold guge potential, and anyone who looks beyond the immediate appearance to the potential in this seed, and who has confidence to plant it will be rewarded with a shrub, or tree that provides spices of value on the trade routes through the land, and also acts as shelter for nesting birds.
The previous words in the parable of the growing seed tell us that we don’t control the growth; that is in God’s hands. Even with all our scientific knowledge today not many of understand the mechanism by which a seed turns into a tree. We can describe photosynthesis, we can talk about osmosis, we can measure and chart and even watch growth on freeze frame photography, speeded up. We can sometimes determine optimum growing conditions, but we cannot make that plant grow. The potential to grow is inside it, a part of it, the part that is God given, the potential for life.
The mustard seed and the potential that it holds get another airing in the gospels. Do you remember Matthew 17:20?
"I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."
And that’s what it’s like with the Kingdom of God, that growth of God’s reign of justice and of peace here on earth. That’s what happened to the seed of faith that Jesus planted. They grew didn’t they?
Imagine each one of those disciples as a mustard seed. From a small number of poorly educated, mostly manual workers who knew they didn’t control much in Roman occupied Palestine, but depended on the bounty of God, to us sitting here today. Across languages and time, that seed has taken root and grown, in our lives and in the lives of others. To push the metaphor, that spice has flavoured our world.
What was true then is true now. Jesus looks in to our heart and sees our deepest need, for relationship with God, and he offers that to us. He sees our potential, and we only have to be prepared to let that seed of faith be planted in us, to be the good soil that receives and nurtures. We don’t need to force anything; we only need to ‘let go and let God’.
The continuity of our faith, sharing the good news of our salvation with others, isn’t something we need to be anxious about. Sometimes the gentle word, the small action, the life lived with integrity, demonstrates the power of the Holy Spirit in us far more than standing on a soapbox and shouting. (btw - if standing on a soapbox and shouting is your particular gift from God then please, don’t let anything I’ve said stop you.)
Maybe we can simply relax in prayer, leave space for God to work, provide stillness and quiet, or companionship. Maybe we can help a friend to find something they haven’t experiences before – perhaps the wonder of peas in a pod - a part of creation that is very good. Sometimes we can help to identify things to be thankful for – perhaps the joy of a smile that shows God’s plan for our relationships, maybe the satisfaction of a life well-lived. Sometimes we can simply be, when we are needed.
Why don’t we all make space this week to look for the small things of God, the little opportunities to plant our own unobtrusive mustard seeds, and then allow space for God to work; trust God to make them grow.
Saturday, 13 June 2009
Sunday, 24 May 2009
Sermon: 24th May 2009 John 17:6-19
In the last few weeks I’ve noticed an increasing trend on Facebook. There have been a variety of quizzes for some time and people are encouraged to compare their results with their friends. But recently there has been an increase in the number of people inviting their friends to take a quiz called “How well do you know ?” I’ve also noticed that not many people score more than 50%, even for people they seem to know quite well.
There is a cry deep inside many of us that says, “You don’t know me”. We hear it voiced on the Jeremy Kyle show by angry young men and women whose lives are being offered up in simplistic terms to an audience hungry to judge, as they realise that the bald facts presented have led to them being censured. I wonder how many MPS, who are being criticised over their expenses, are sitting at home feeling the same thing, “But if you were in my shoes you might understand why…” Sometimes it’s hard to know others.
We sometimes feel misunderstood or undervalued, and when it happens with people we care about it can be a very painful experience.
That desire to be known (and the parallel fear that if we are really known we might turn out to be not worth knowing), is deep seated and drives a lot of our behaviour. If we are not known, how do we connect with people? If we feel no connection, how can we have empathy, how can we feel any sense of responsibility to others, for others, to our society?
Garrick Stevens spoke on Wednesday night about some of the local issues that we can pray for and maybe get involved in. One of these was ‘social cohesion’ and I’ve been thinking more about that. We live in a beautiful part of the country, and the people around here are generally very pleasant and easy to like and yet there is still a sense of alienation that shows up in anti-social behaviour. Anti-social = against society.
Two headlines from the local paper this week caught my eye.
1. Sunnyside Rural Trust have planted flowers in various public places, as part of their programme of work with adults with learning difficulties. Over the past few weeks thieves have uprooted shrubs from flower beds along Berkhamsted High Street and spoiled their work. Previously their storage shed was broken into and the intruders not only stole equipment but also cut up electric cables.
2. In a similar incident people attending the Tring Canal Festival have had tools stolen from their shed, and cars broken into and vandalised.
We might shake our heads at such wanton destruction, but my question remains – why do people feel so alienated, disconnected (possibly rejected?) from our society that they do this? What happens to people that they can only assuage their own loneliness and negative feelings by damaging others – a kind of warped competitiveness where the one who can cause the most hurt wins? Actually I have known people who argue like that!
I don’t fully understand the problem, and I wouldn’t claim to know the answers either, but I have a suspicion that feeling part of a community relates to being known, recognised and valued. That is what we are, or should be, here.
As Christians we have the community and the cohesion that appeals to those deep needs in so many people. A warning: this absolutely isn’t about climbing closely into a holy huddle of niceness and excluding other people. We are not an exclusive faith; in fact we are commanded to be inclusive, to go out, to find people and welcome them in to join us. What is our USP? (Unique Selling Point)
It is the love of God. When I speak of love I don’t mean simply an emotional feeling that is warm and fuzzy and makes colours look brighter and birds sing sweeter, that blinds us to all ugliness… and tends to wear off after a while… and which, according to the Daily Mail, some men feel is a bit too cuddly for church. “Can we sing more macho hymns please and stop all this soppy stuff?”
I mean the love of God for us, the love of God in us, and the love of God that we can share with other people. I mean the tough love that holds us all when we fail, and forgives us when we repent, and still asks us to aim for the gold-standard. The tough love that meant Jesus actually went to the cross for us, and did it out of practical care and a heart that holds every one of us as dearly beloved.
Today’s reading relates to the prayer that Jesus prayed just before his arrest. It is sandwiched between Jesus’ prayer for himself, “I glorified you on earth by completing the work you gave me to do”, and his prayer for all of us who would come to faith after his death as a result of his work. His prayer is for his disciples, his beloved friends. Just look at what he prays,
v9 I pray for them
v11 protect them by the power of your name
v11 so that they may be one as we are one
v13 that they may have full measure of my joy within them
v15 that you protect them
Protection, unity, joy.
Keep them safe; give them joy, let them be one.
These are people that he loves, so much that he sees them as one in his relationship with God the Father. Look what he says he has done for them,
V12 I protected them and kept them safe
v14 I have given them your word
Jesus is entrusting his disciples to God’s care now that he can no longer be with them but he is doing it knowing that he has already taught them what they need to know to maintain joy and unity in their relationship, and that they are one with him. And they did, didn’t they? Every one of us here today is the result of the Church passing on that teaching through the generations and the centuries.
These disciples became the Church, the Church of the Living God, following Christ. Not as one man wrote, “a voluntary association of religiously inclined humans.” Jesus is praying for the Church, and his prayer is as true today as it was then. He asks God to take care of his beloved friends. The good news for us is that we are also one with Jesus through our faith in him; therefore we are one with God – Father Son and Holy Spirit. And God, who knows everything there is to know about us, good and bad, still loves us. We can ignore it or accept it, but we can’t change it. God knows us and God loves us; we are the beloved friends, and God cares for us.
One of the more moving songs that I found when I first became a Christian was “I’m accepted, I’m forgiven, I am loved by the true and living God.” Yes, even me. And you. And him. And her. All of us.
Sometimes though it doesn’t feel like that, does it? Don’t you sometimes find other people, even in the church community a bit, maybe just a bit, well, difficult? Especially when they don’t agree with everything we think, or want to do things differently. I wonder how much of that is that we haven’t processed the idea that we are all different because we are meant to be different – like tools in a toolbox – what is the point in having two hammers the same if you haven’t got a screwdriver? We have different abilities, gifts, talents, skills, and that’s the way it is supposed to be. We can do different things and we have been equipped for different purposes, but all, to work for the glory of God. Imagine the leaves on a tree. Each one is in a different place; each connected to a twig, each twig connected to a branch, but all are rooted in the same tree.
Our difficulties arise when we think that someone else is valued more than we are. Jesus’ disciples also had their differences, including an argument about who is most important, but yet Jesus asks, “that they may be one as we are one.” We know that there were disagreements after Jesus died; the Council of Jerusalem is a key example in Acts, and we know that there have been schisms and divisions and arguments about what is right throughout history. Even in this town the people of God meet in different buildings and worship in different ways, and have slightly different understandings of what it means to be an authentic Christian. So does this mean that we are not united? I don’t think so.
I would say we are united if we abide in Christ, just as the Church across the world is united in Christ. I think we are united in essence and recognise our differences in detail, some of which matter greatly, some less so.
This week I was fortunate enough to visit the Coptic Church in Stevenage, and to hear presentations from Bishop Angaelos, the head of the Coptic Church in the UK, (who then had to leave to attend the enthronement of the Roman Catholic Archbishop of Westminster - how’s that for an ecumenical meeting?); and also their vicar, Father Abraham Thomas, from the Indian Orthodox church in Kerala. The key message that came out of this visit was that we do have differences, but what unites us is far greater, and much more important. I won’t go into all the details, but I’d like to share one thing I learned. Some of you will already know this.
Father Abraham Thomas greeted us with ‘Namaste’, which he said means, ‘I honour the image of God in you’. The reply is, of course, ‘Namaste’.
Think about what that means; every one of us carries that image of God in us, and every one of us is known and loved by God. I wonder if that deep ‘knowing’, and the recognition of the divine in each person; the gift that Jesus gave to so many people that he met, is one of the major reasons people followed him? Imagine what it must have felt like to meet that gaze.
When we truly accept the prayer that Jesus prayed for us, “they are yours. All I have is yours, and all you have is mine” it puts everything else into a different perspective.
If we accept that, then we have no option but to look for ways to share it with others, in all the places that we inhabit – home, work, leisure, with family, friend and stranger. We can look for that image of God in everyone we meet, and we can help them to find that image of God in themselves. And each one of us will do it in a different way. I don’t think there is one-size-fits-all approach to evangelism. Some of us are predominantly talkers, some are listeners, some are servants and so on; all of us are all of these things in different degrees, and each one of us is unique. We are all, however, joined in lively, vibrant faith, in unity with Christ.
For better or worse, for all the minor irritations, for all the differences in interpretation of doctrine, we are brothers and sisters – we are the ones who are united, we are the cohesive group, and we can model that to others in our society, and invite them to come in. We can share that love and care for others. Jesus’ prayer is for us; we are loved by God and we are in God’s care.
We can’t say to God, “You don’t know me”. If God answered our Facebook quiz, the score would be 100%, every time, for every one of us. Which one of us, when we read the words, “I pray… for those you have given me, for they are yours” can feel anything but special, accepted, loved, known. And out of that, which one of us doesn’t want to share that with other?
There is a cry deep inside many of us that says, “You don’t know me”. We hear it voiced on the Jeremy Kyle show by angry young men and women whose lives are being offered up in simplistic terms to an audience hungry to judge, as they realise that the bald facts presented have led to them being censured. I wonder how many MPS, who are being criticised over their expenses, are sitting at home feeling the same thing, “But if you were in my shoes you might understand why…” Sometimes it’s hard to know others.
We sometimes feel misunderstood or undervalued, and when it happens with people we care about it can be a very painful experience.
That desire to be known (and the parallel fear that if we are really known we might turn out to be not worth knowing), is deep seated and drives a lot of our behaviour. If we are not known, how do we connect with people? If we feel no connection, how can we have empathy, how can we feel any sense of responsibility to others, for others, to our society?
Garrick Stevens spoke on Wednesday night about some of the local issues that we can pray for and maybe get involved in. One of these was ‘social cohesion’ and I’ve been thinking more about that. We live in a beautiful part of the country, and the people around here are generally very pleasant and easy to like and yet there is still a sense of alienation that shows up in anti-social behaviour. Anti-social = against society.
Two headlines from the local paper this week caught my eye.
1. Sunnyside Rural Trust have planted flowers in various public places, as part of their programme of work with adults with learning difficulties. Over the past few weeks thieves have uprooted shrubs from flower beds along Berkhamsted High Street and spoiled their work. Previously their storage shed was broken into and the intruders not only stole equipment but also cut up electric cables.
2. In a similar incident people attending the Tring Canal Festival have had tools stolen from their shed, and cars broken into and vandalised.
We might shake our heads at such wanton destruction, but my question remains – why do people feel so alienated, disconnected (possibly rejected?) from our society that they do this? What happens to people that they can only assuage their own loneliness and negative feelings by damaging others – a kind of warped competitiveness where the one who can cause the most hurt wins? Actually I have known people who argue like that!
I don’t fully understand the problem, and I wouldn’t claim to know the answers either, but I have a suspicion that feeling part of a community relates to being known, recognised and valued. That is what we are, or should be, here.
As Christians we have the community and the cohesion that appeals to those deep needs in so many people. A warning: this absolutely isn’t about climbing closely into a holy huddle of niceness and excluding other people. We are not an exclusive faith; in fact we are commanded to be inclusive, to go out, to find people and welcome them in to join us. What is our USP? (Unique Selling Point)
It is the love of God. When I speak of love I don’t mean simply an emotional feeling that is warm and fuzzy and makes colours look brighter and birds sing sweeter, that blinds us to all ugliness… and tends to wear off after a while… and which, according to the Daily Mail, some men feel is a bit too cuddly for church. “Can we sing more macho hymns please and stop all this soppy stuff?”
I mean the love of God for us, the love of God in us, and the love of God that we can share with other people. I mean the tough love that holds us all when we fail, and forgives us when we repent, and still asks us to aim for the gold-standard. The tough love that meant Jesus actually went to the cross for us, and did it out of practical care and a heart that holds every one of us as dearly beloved.
Today’s reading relates to the prayer that Jesus prayed just before his arrest. It is sandwiched between Jesus’ prayer for himself, “I glorified you on earth by completing the work you gave me to do”, and his prayer for all of us who would come to faith after his death as a result of his work. His prayer is for his disciples, his beloved friends. Just look at what he prays,
v9 I pray for them
v11 protect them by the power of your name
v11 so that they may be one as we are one
v13 that they may have full measure of my joy within them
v15 that you protect them
Protection, unity, joy.
Keep them safe; give them joy, let them be one.
These are people that he loves, so much that he sees them as one in his relationship with God the Father. Look what he says he has done for them,
V12 I protected them and kept them safe
v14 I have given them your word
Jesus is entrusting his disciples to God’s care now that he can no longer be with them but he is doing it knowing that he has already taught them what they need to know to maintain joy and unity in their relationship, and that they are one with him. And they did, didn’t they? Every one of us here today is the result of the Church passing on that teaching through the generations and the centuries.
These disciples became the Church, the Church of the Living God, following Christ. Not as one man wrote, “a voluntary association of religiously inclined humans.” Jesus is praying for the Church, and his prayer is as true today as it was then. He asks God to take care of his beloved friends. The good news for us is that we are also one with Jesus through our faith in him; therefore we are one with God – Father Son and Holy Spirit. And God, who knows everything there is to know about us, good and bad, still loves us. We can ignore it or accept it, but we can’t change it. God knows us and God loves us; we are the beloved friends, and God cares for us.
One of the more moving songs that I found when I first became a Christian was “I’m accepted, I’m forgiven, I am loved by the true and living God.” Yes, even me. And you. And him. And her. All of us.
Sometimes though it doesn’t feel like that, does it? Don’t you sometimes find other people, even in the church community a bit, maybe just a bit, well, difficult? Especially when they don’t agree with everything we think, or want to do things differently. I wonder how much of that is that we haven’t processed the idea that we are all different because we are meant to be different – like tools in a toolbox – what is the point in having two hammers the same if you haven’t got a screwdriver? We have different abilities, gifts, talents, skills, and that’s the way it is supposed to be. We can do different things and we have been equipped for different purposes, but all, to work for the glory of God. Imagine the leaves on a tree. Each one is in a different place; each connected to a twig, each twig connected to a branch, but all are rooted in the same tree.
Our difficulties arise when we think that someone else is valued more than we are. Jesus’ disciples also had their differences, including an argument about who is most important, but yet Jesus asks, “that they may be one as we are one.” We know that there were disagreements after Jesus died; the Council of Jerusalem is a key example in Acts, and we know that there have been schisms and divisions and arguments about what is right throughout history. Even in this town the people of God meet in different buildings and worship in different ways, and have slightly different understandings of what it means to be an authentic Christian. So does this mean that we are not united? I don’t think so.
I would say we are united if we abide in Christ, just as the Church across the world is united in Christ. I think we are united in essence and recognise our differences in detail, some of which matter greatly, some less so.
This week I was fortunate enough to visit the Coptic Church in Stevenage, and to hear presentations from Bishop Angaelos, the head of the Coptic Church in the UK, (who then had to leave to attend the enthronement of the Roman Catholic Archbishop of Westminster - how’s that for an ecumenical meeting?); and also their vicar, Father Abraham Thomas, from the Indian Orthodox church in Kerala. The key message that came out of this visit was that we do have differences, but what unites us is far greater, and much more important. I won’t go into all the details, but I’d like to share one thing I learned. Some of you will already know this.
Father Abraham Thomas greeted us with ‘Namaste’, which he said means, ‘I honour the image of God in you’. The reply is, of course, ‘Namaste’.
Think about what that means; every one of us carries that image of God in us, and every one of us is known and loved by God. I wonder if that deep ‘knowing’, and the recognition of the divine in each person; the gift that Jesus gave to so many people that he met, is one of the major reasons people followed him? Imagine what it must have felt like to meet that gaze.
When we truly accept the prayer that Jesus prayed for us, “they are yours. All I have is yours, and all you have is mine” it puts everything else into a different perspective.
If we accept that, then we have no option but to look for ways to share it with others, in all the places that we inhabit – home, work, leisure, with family, friend and stranger. We can look for that image of God in everyone we meet, and we can help them to find that image of God in themselves. And each one of us will do it in a different way. I don’t think there is one-size-fits-all approach to evangelism. Some of us are predominantly talkers, some are listeners, some are servants and so on; all of us are all of these things in different degrees, and each one of us is unique. We are all, however, joined in lively, vibrant faith, in unity with Christ.
For better or worse, for all the minor irritations, for all the differences in interpretation of doctrine, we are brothers and sisters – we are the ones who are united, we are the cohesive group, and we can model that to others in our society, and invite them to come in. We can share that love and care for others. Jesus’ prayer is for us; we are loved by God and we are in God’s care.
We can’t say to God, “You don’t know me”. If God answered our Facebook quiz, the score would be 100%, every time, for every one of us. Which one of us, when we read the words, “I pray… for those you have given me, for they are yours” can feel anything but special, accepted, loved, known. And out of that, which one of us doesn’t want to share that with other?
Saturday, 25 April 2009
Sermon: Low Sunday 2009
Good morning. David is on holiday, Dick has a much-deserved day off from leading and preaching, Heidi and the usual musicians are absent, and today is called Low Sunday. It’s the week after Easter and it is called either ‘Low Sunday’ – often referring to the low that we feel after the celebration of Easter Day, or ‘Thomas Sunday’ because someone, usually a Reader, has to preach ‘yet again’ on Thomas and doubt.
Whichever way we look at it, this Sunday has a much lower profile than last Sunday. And yet it reinforces some very important truths, and reminds us of Jesus’ gift to us, our own free will and the choices we make.
How does this work in our readings?
Does anyone remember the opening sequence to the Star Wars films, where the words rolled past, and it looked as if we were being told the whole story before the film had even started? This morning’s readings are a bit like that for me, because so much happens in such a short space of time that we are in danger of missing it. Certainly we can’t explore everything in one go.
We’ve heard three stories this morning, and if we look at them in the order in which they happened then we see:
Jesus appears in the middle of a locked room, shows his disciples that he is alive, but still wounded and offers peace. He then sends them out in the power of the Holy Spirit and, breathing on them, gives them the authority, within their relationship with him, to forgive others. This is the ‘handover’ moment, a fore-runner of Pentecost, when believers are empowered to be church together.
In the second story Jesus appears again to Thomas – it’s a kind of mopping up operation, the same story again, but this time aimed mainly at Thomas, who wasn’t there the in the first story. Again Jesus appears in a locked room; again he shows that he is alive but still wounded, and offers peace, but this time he commands that we believe. This time there is a response that recognises his Lordship, and this time Jesus promises blessing both to those present, and also to everyone who believes. Because, after that time, the Church will include people who didn’t actually know Jesus personally, when he was on earth – just like you and me.
In the third story, from Acts, we can see that all the believers were united. They shared, they supported each other and they testified to other people about Jesus’ resurrection. They were being Church in the way that Jesus modelled for them, sharing and acting in unity.
For every choice there is a response. The disciples responded to the life, death and resurrection of Jesus with faith, and because of that faith they became one with Christ and were changed. That change led them to action; to behave differently, and we see that demonstrated in the reading of Acts, which shows the development of the early church. The believers shared their possessions and they acted together in unity.
How might that work in our lives?
Let’s start with Easter. We have the Good News. Jesus Christ is risen indeed. To which our reply, from wherever we are, is Hallelujah,.
Sometimes that can be difficult, as can our reading from Acts. We’d like to feel happy and celebratory, and we’d like to be in unity with everyone in the church and feel that we all have one mind and that everything is comfortable and cosy. But I do recognise that it isn’t always like that.
Dick has led two funerals this week. A child we have been praying for has died after a long illness, and people at this church have been affected by that. Other people are worried about their jobs, about illness and conflict in their families, about wars and injustice, and political unrest, and all sorts of things that we can’t control. We are all wounded in different ways. And we are being asked by the people who created the Easter liturgy – the words we use in our services - to say ‘Praise the Lord’ - ‘Hallelujah”? We are being asked to worship God, to celebrate Jesus appearing to his disciples. Maybe we just don’t feel like it.
But… and there is always a but, I’ve found that the times that I have been able to laugh most, to experience the greatest joy of life, even sometimes to worship in the most meaningful way, have been when other parts of my life seem darkest.
Laughter and worship and joy are points on a scale, and there is something about knowing the heights that makes the depths so deep, and vice versa. One of the great benefits of team-work, of community, of being in unity, is that someone else can do what I can’t. If I find myself unable to worship and praise, then maybe someone else can worship on my behalf. (Priesthood of believers) Rather like the believers, if I can’t feed myself, maybe someone else can – in this case in worship.
The other point about saying Hallelujah when it is difficult is that it helps us to see our own problems in perspective. There are things in my life that I wish were different, that I would change if I could, but which I just have to leave with God. I pray about them, sometimes I shed tears about them, but ultimately no amount of angst or worry on my part can make any difference, so I have to give it to God in prayer, and I choose to worship God in the desert paces as well as on the heights of the mountain..
That is my choice, and today is partly about choices and consequences.
Jesus chose to go to the cross, and when he returned he asked us to choose – to believe in him and to carry on his work. He comes out of the closed tomb, and into the locked room of our hearts to share his risen life with us. He understands our fear, and shares our wounds. He brings us his forgiveness and peace; he breathes the Holy Spirit into our lives. And then he waits for our response. We can choose to make no response, in which case we are stuck in disbelief and nothing happens. Or we can choose faith; faith that results in becoming a member of this priesthood of believers, faith which results in action, and is defined by our relationship of sharing with God and other Christians, a relationship of unity.
Finally, I must mention Thomas – if only because David said last Sunday that all preachers except David use today’s texts to preach about Thomas and doubt rather than about the start of the church.
We often refer to Thomas ‘Doubting Thomas’ because we interpret his statement, “Unless I see… I will not believe” as doubt. We warm to this story because it reminds us of our own questions – questions we can seek answers to if we have faith as our bedrock. In fact a more accurate translation of the words that we read as “Stop doubting and believe” is “do not be disbelieving but believe.” Thomas is asking for the same evidence that the other disciples have already had so that he can believe.
The background to this slide is a beautiful picture, by Caravaggio, of Thomas, placing his finger in the wound in Christ’s side, just before he makes the definitive statement of faith, “My Lord and my God,”
Thomas’ answer confirms what we believe, that Jesus Christ is resurrected, cannot die again, and that we who believe, even though we haven’t seen, are blessed. Our faith changes us and we act differently, we love as Jesus did, and that means that we are able to share our lives with others in the unity of Christ.
Jesus Christ is risen indeed. To which our reply, from wherever we are, is Hallelujah.
Whichever way we look at it, this Sunday has a much lower profile than last Sunday. And yet it reinforces some very important truths, and reminds us of Jesus’ gift to us, our own free will and the choices we make.
How does this work in our readings?
Does anyone remember the opening sequence to the Star Wars films, where the words rolled past, and it looked as if we were being told the whole story before the film had even started? This morning’s readings are a bit like that for me, because so much happens in such a short space of time that we are in danger of missing it. Certainly we can’t explore everything in one go.
We’ve heard three stories this morning, and if we look at them in the order in which they happened then we see:
Jesus appears in the middle of a locked room, shows his disciples that he is alive, but still wounded and offers peace. He then sends them out in the power of the Holy Spirit and, breathing on them, gives them the authority, within their relationship with him, to forgive others. This is the ‘handover’ moment, a fore-runner of Pentecost, when believers are empowered to be church together.
In the second story Jesus appears again to Thomas – it’s a kind of mopping up operation, the same story again, but this time aimed mainly at Thomas, who wasn’t there the in the first story. Again Jesus appears in a locked room; again he shows that he is alive but still wounded, and offers peace, but this time he commands that we believe. This time there is a response that recognises his Lordship, and this time Jesus promises blessing both to those present, and also to everyone who believes. Because, after that time, the Church will include people who didn’t actually know Jesus personally, when he was on earth – just like you and me.
In the third story, from Acts, we can see that all the believers were united. They shared, they supported each other and they testified to other people about Jesus’ resurrection. They were being Church in the way that Jesus modelled for them, sharing and acting in unity.
For every choice there is a response. The disciples responded to the life, death and resurrection of Jesus with faith, and because of that faith they became one with Christ and were changed. That change led them to action; to behave differently, and we see that demonstrated in the reading of Acts, which shows the development of the early church. The believers shared their possessions and they acted together in unity.
How might that work in our lives?
Let’s start with Easter. We have the Good News. Jesus Christ is risen indeed. To which our reply, from wherever we are, is Hallelujah,.
Sometimes that can be difficult, as can our reading from Acts. We’d like to feel happy and celebratory, and we’d like to be in unity with everyone in the church and feel that we all have one mind and that everything is comfortable and cosy. But I do recognise that it isn’t always like that.
Dick has led two funerals this week. A child we have been praying for has died after a long illness, and people at this church have been affected by that. Other people are worried about their jobs, about illness and conflict in their families, about wars and injustice, and political unrest, and all sorts of things that we can’t control. We are all wounded in different ways. And we are being asked by the people who created the Easter liturgy – the words we use in our services - to say ‘Praise the Lord’ - ‘Hallelujah”? We are being asked to worship God, to celebrate Jesus appearing to his disciples. Maybe we just don’t feel like it.
But… and there is always a but, I’ve found that the times that I have been able to laugh most, to experience the greatest joy of life, even sometimes to worship in the most meaningful way, have been when other parts of my life seem darkest.
Laughter and worship and joy are points on a scale, and there is something about knowing the heights that makes the depths so deep, and vice versa. One of the great benefits of team-work, of community, of being in unity, is that someone else can do what I can’t. If I find myself unable to worship and praise, then maybe someone else can worship on my behalf. (Priesthood of believers) Rather like the believers, if I can’t feed myself, maybe someone else can – in this case in worship.
The other point about saying Hallelujah when it is difficult is that it helps us to see our own problems in perspective. There are things in my life that I wish were different, that I would change if I could, but which I just have to leave with God. I pray about them, sometimes I shed tears about them, but ultimately no amount of angst or worry on my part can make any difference, so I have to give it to God in prayer, and I choose to worship God in the desert paces as well as on the heights of the mountain..
That is my choice, and today is partly about choices and consequences.
Jesus chose to go to the cross, and when he returned he asked us to choose – to believe in him and to carry on his work. He comes out of the closed tomb, and into the locked room of our hearts to share his risen life with us. He understands our fear, and shares our wounds. He brings us his forgiveness and peace; he breathes the Holy Spirit into our lives. And then he waits for our response. We can choose to make no response, in which case we are stuck in disbelief and nothing happens. Or we can choose faith; faith that results in becoming a member of this priesthood of believers, faith which results in action, and is defined by our relationship of sharing with God and other Christians, a relationship of unity.
Finally, I must mention Thomas – if only because David said last Sunday that all preachers except David use today’s texts to preach about Thomas and doubt rather than about the start of the church.
We often refer to Thomas ‘Doubting Thomas’ because we interpret his statement, “Unless I see… I will not believe” as doubt. We warm to this story because it reminds us of our own questions – questions we can seek answers to if we have faith as our bedrock. In fact a more accurate translation of the words that we read as “Stop doubting and believe” is “do not be disbelieving but believe.” Thomas is asking for the same evidence that the other disciples have already had so that he can believe.
The background to this slide is a beautiful picture, by Caravaggio, of Thomas, placing his finger in the wound in Christ’s side, just before he makes the definitive statement of faith, “My Lord and my God,”
Thomas’ answer confirms what we believe, that Jesus Christ is resurrected, cannot die again, and that we who believe, even though we haven’t seen, are blessed. Our faith changes us and we act differently, we love as Jesus did, and that means that we are able to share our lives with others in the unity of Christ.
Jesus Christ is risen indeed. To which our reply, from wherever we are, is Hallelujah.
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
Sermon: 25th January 2009
This was preached at Bourne End
This is the start of Jesus’ ministry. According to John we have heard that Jesus is God, made flesh, dwelling among us. We have heard that John the Baptist’s testimony to the priests and Levites that John is lowlier than a slave in comparison with Jesus.
We have seen two of John’s disciples, Andrew and Peter, turn and follow Jesus, and we have seen another two men, Philip and Nathaniel answer Jesus’ call, and hear his promise of greater things to come.
Now we have a practical demonstration. It is the third day, and in his first public act; a fore-shadowing of the Easter story, Jesus turns water into wine.
This can be read as straightforward story of water into wine to meet a need, and on its own it stands as a wonderful story of Jesus meeting our needs, not just with the minimum that we need, but with the best there is, and in abundance.
Wonderful as that is, I think there is more to be found in this story, because like many of the elements of John’s gospel, it can be read at many levels, and this is part of the beauty of this gospel, and why, I think, it speaks so strongly to so many people. So let’s have a look at some of the detail:
The party was almost over – the wine had gone
What a way to tell a story? They went to a party… …When the wine had gone.
No information whatsoever about the celebration, the toasts, the joy, the dancing. We all know what a good wedding can be like for us, and John didn’t waste words telling us things we know already. His story concerns the tail-end of a party. We have all experienced that too – the moment when we realise that the best has been, that the future is dry and uncertain, and maybe includes a hangover.
The current recession, officially announced yesterday, is an example of that in our time. How many of us realised during the good times that they would end before we were ready?
Are there any hints in this story that might help us today?
First, let’s look at the Water Jars.
These are not ordinary water storage jars used for washing the dirty feet of visitors. These jars were used to store water for ceremonial washing – for the atonement of sins, for purification. 6 jars, each holding 20-30 gallons - suggests a lot of ceremonial washing, and the jars were empty. The resources had run dry.
If we think of all those people going out into the desert to be baptised in water – for the forgiveness of their sins - by John the Baptist, isn’t that the state that the people were in before Jesus arrived?
Isn’t that the state of our lives before we came to know Jesus?
Isn’t it interesting that Jesus performs this miracle, as his first public act after his own baptism – so soon after John the Baptist has said, “the one who sent me to baptise with water told me, “The man on whom you see the Spirit come down and remain is he who will baptise with the Holy Spirit” (John 1:33).
I think that this story tells us that faith in Jesus replaces ritual purification with the opportunity of a relationship with God; that the Holy Spirit living in us is far more powerful than washing with water and trying to deal with our sin in our own strength; that the best is yet to come, both in the gospel and in our lives.
Secondly, let’s look at the way this miracle works.
Any competent magician can perform a ‘water-into-wine’ trick – although most wouldn’t do it. One reason is that of the two methods I know, if you were to drink the resulting wine, one would leave you sitting on the toilet for a long time, and the other would kill you.
This is no bang, flash, drifting smoke magic trick. It involves several different things happening in harmony to achieve, parts which are directly applicable to our prayer life? Let’s look at the events in detail.
1. Firstly - Mary initiates this. She does not ask Jesus to do something – she draws his attention to a need. His response was “My time had not yet come”. It sounds as if he is not yet ready to act.
I don’t know if any of you have the ‘fix-it’ gene. In my case it manifests itself as a conviction that I can fix most problems, if only I work hard enough.
Like all personality traits, it is positive at one end of the scale – it means I have sometimes succeeded at things that other people wouldn’t even try. At other times it a failing when I try to interfere with things that are legitimately ‘SEP’ – Someone Else’s Problem, or tell people how to solve their problems when they are perfectly capable of fixing them for themselves. I pray constantly for the wisdom to tread the fine line between the two, and I know that, had I been in Mary’s shoes I would have been tempted to be advising Jesus how to tread grapes by this time in the story.
Yet Mary, far from saying, “Get on with it”, or starting to tread grapes herself, simply asks the servants to obey her son.
When we pray, how often do we tell God what we want the answer to be? How often are we willing to accept the ‘not yet’ message and still say, ‘your will be done’, and to wait in faith? Mary’s faith and wisdom is rewarded when Jesus asks the servants to act.
2. Jesus tells the servant what to do, and they do it, to the best of their ability. The water jars are filled to the brim – no short measures.
There is no meanness in the actions of those who are following these orders, the generosity starts with the servants’ response to Jesus call.
3. Finally, after faith, waiting and obedience, God acts, and the results are better and more generous that anyone could have imagined (except, maybe, his mother.)
This miracle had a purpose beyond providing wine to a wedding party. It revealed Jesus’ glory and we read that Jesus’ disciples put their faith in Jesus as a result.
It can also be a learning experience for us, with significant parallels to our own prayer lives, and I think it’s a good pattern for us to remember when we speak to God – highlight the need, be prepared to wait or to work to the best of our ability, to accept ‘your will be done’, and give God space to act.
Jesus not only refills the water jars – which on it’s own is OK, but it doesn’t move us forwards – he changes the nature of one of the elements of which this earth is made as he turns the water into wine. Wine contains a lot of water, but it isn’t just water. Jesus has come to change, to add to, to transform – not just water, but our lives. He transforms the ritual of purification into the reality of new life through faith in him.
We’ve looked at the water jars – the symbol of the old rituals, the way things were before.
We’ve looked at the way God works when we choose to be faithful, patient and obedient. We may have noticed that the result wasn’t what was expected, but was even better.
Finally, let’s look at the parallels with Jesus’ life.
It is the third day, and in his first public act; a fore-shadowing of the Easter story, Jesus turns water into wine.
Just as the party is nearly over.
Just as the good things seem to have run out.
God heard the need.
Gave us the best.
Gave in abundance.
He transforms the ritual of purification into the reality of new life through faith in him.
Wine in place of water?
When Jesus turns the water into wine, full to the brim, I think he is doing more than just meeting the immediate need of wedding guests. I think he is – at the start of his ministry - making a statement about who he is, and his purpose in coming. I think this is a message about refreshing, renewal, transformation and the power of God to meet our needs in a new and delightful way, as part of a celebration. Remember, this was a wedding feast. Could this be a foretaste of the heavenly banquet? “Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the lamb”(Revelation 19:9)
We can share in that now, through the death and resurrection of Jesus, through our faith in him, through our communion.
As a result of all of this, when we think the party is almost over, we can remember the water jars – their emptiness refilled, their contents transformed, we can remind ourselves that we don’t need to fix everything ourselves, but that if we go to God in prayer, and wait, expectantly, obediently, and give space to God to act, that we can also have hope that we too are invited to the wedding super of the lamb, we can be confident that the best is yet to come, the celebrations are just beginning.
Jesus’ disciples saw and had faith.
His actions call for a response.
What is our response to that today?
This is the start of Jesus’ ministry. According to John we have heard that Jesus is God, made flesh, dwelling among us. We have heard that John the Baptist’s testimony to the priests and Levites that John is lowlier than a slave in comparison with Jesus.
We have seen two of John’s disciples, Andrew and Peter, turn and follow Jesus, and we have seen another two men, Philip and Nathaniel answer Jesus’ call, and hear his promise of greater things to come.
Now we have a practical demonstration. It is the third day, and in his first public act; a fore-shadowing of the Easter story, Jesus turns water into wine.
This can be read as straightforward story of water into wine to meet a need, and on its own it stands as a wonderful story of Jesus meeting our needs, not just with the minimum that we need, but with the best there is, and in abundance.
Wonderful as that is, I think there is more to be found in this story, because like many of the elements of John’s gospel, it can be read at many levels, and this is part of the beauty of this gospel, and why, I think, it speaks so strongly to so many people. So let’s have a look at some of the detail:
The party was almost over – the wine had gone
What a way to tell a story? They went to a party… …When the wine had gone.
No information whatsoever about the celebration, the toasts, the joy, the dancing. We all know what a good wedding can be like for us, and John didn’t waste words telling us things we know already. His story concerns the tail-end of a party. We have all experienced that too – the moment when we realise that the best has been, that the future is dry and uncertain, and maybe includes a hangover.
The current recession, officially announced yesterday, is an example of that in our time. How many of us realised during the good times that they would end before we were ready?
Are there any hints in this story that might help us today?
First, let’s look at the Water Jars.
These are not ordinary water storage jars used for washing the dirty feet of visitors. These jars were used to store water for ceremonial washing – for the atonement of sins, for purification. 6 jars, each holding 20-30 gallons - suggests a lot of ceremonial washing, and the jars were empty. The resources had run dry.
If we think of all those people going out into the desert to be baptised in water – for the forgiveness of their sins - by John the Baptist, isn’t that the state that the people were in before Jesus arrived?
Isn’t that the state of our lives before we came to know Jesus?
Isn’t it interesting that Jesus performs this miracle, as his first public act after his own baptism – so soon after John the Baptist has said, “the one who sent me to baptise with water told me, “The man on whom you see the Spirit come down and remain is he who will baptise with the Holy Spirit” (John 1:33).
I think that this story tells us that faith in Jesus replaces ritual purification with the opportunity of a relationship with God; that the Holy Spirit living in us is far more powerful than washing with water and trying to deal with our sin in our own strength; that the best is yet to come, both in the gospel and in our lives.
Secondly, let’s look at the way this miracle works.
Any competent magician can perform a ‘water-into-wine’ trick – although most wouldn’t do it. One reason is that of the two methods I know, if you were to drink the resulting wine, one would leave you sitting on the toilet for a long time, and the other would kill you.
This is no bang, flash, drifting smoke magic trick. It involves several different things happening in harmony to achieve, parts which are directly applicable to our prayer life? Let’s look at the events in detail.
1. Firstly - Mary initiates this. She does not ask Jesus to do something – she draws his attention to a need. His response was “My time had not yet come”. It sounds as if he is not yet ready to act.
I don’t know if any of you have the ‘fix-it’ gene. In my case it manifests itself as a conviction that I can fix most problems, if only I work hard enough.
Like all personality traits, it is positive at one end of the scale – it means I have sometimes succeeded at things that other people wouldn’t even try. At other times it a failing when I try to interfere with things that are legitimately ‘SEP’ – Someone Else’s Problem, or tell people how to solve their problems when they are perfectly capable of fixing them for themselves. I pray constantly for the wisdom to tread the fine line between the two, and I know that, had I been in Mary’s shoes I would have been tempted to be advising Jesus how to tread grapes by this time in the story.
Yet Mary, far from saying, “Get on with it”, or starting to tread grapes herself, simply asks the servants to obey her son.
When we pray, how often do we tell God what we want the answer to be? How often are we willing to accept the ‘not yet’ message and still say, ‘your will be done’, and to wait in faith? Mary’s faith and wisdom is rewarded when Jesus asks the servants to act.
2. Jesus tells the servant what to do, and they do it, to the best of their ability. The water jars are filled to the brim – no short measures.
There is no meanness in the actions of those who are following these orders, the generosity starts with the servants’ response to Jesus call.
3. Finally, after faith, waiting and obedience, God acts, and the results are better and more generous that anyone could have imagined (except, maybe, his mother.)
This miracle had a purpose beyond providing wine to a wedding party. It revealed Jesus’ glory and we read that Jesus’ disciples put their faith in Jesus as a result.
It can also be a learning experience for us, with significant parallels to our own prayer lives, and I think it’s a good pattern for us to remember when we speak to God – highlight the need, be prepared to wait or to work to the best of our ability, to accept ‘your will be done’, and give God space to act.
Jesus not only refills the water jars – which on it’s own is OK, but it doesn’t move us forwards – he changes the nature of one of the elements of which this earth is made as he turns the water into wine. Wine contains a lot of water, but it isn’t just water. Jesus has come to change, to add to, to transform – not just water, but our lives. He transforms the ritual of purification into the reality of new life through faith in him.
We’ve looked at the water jars – the symbol of the old rituals, the way things were before.
We’ve looked at the way God works when we choose to be faithful, patient and obedient. We may have noticed that the result wasn’t what was expected, but was even better.
Finally, let’s look at the parallels with Jesus’ life.
It is the third day, and in his first public act; a fore-shadowing of the Easter story, Jesus turns water into wine.
Just as the party is nearly over.
Just as the good things seem to have run out.
God heard the need.
Gave us the best.
Gave in abundance.
He transforms the ritual of purification into the reality of new life through faith in him.
Wine in place of water?
When Jesus turns the water into wine, full to the brim, I think he is doing more than just meeting the immediate need of wedding guests. I think he is – at the start of his ministry - making a statement about who he is, and his purpose in coming. I think this is a message about refreshing, renewal, transformation and the power of God to meet our needs in a new and delightful way, as part of a celebration. Remember, this was a wedding feast. Could this be a foretaste of the heavenly banquet? “Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the lamb”(Revelation 19:9)
We can share in that now, through the death and resurrection of Jesus, through our faith in him, through our communion.
As a result of all of this, when we think the party is almost over, we can remember the water jars – their emptiness refilled, their contents transformed, we can remind ourselves that we don’t need to fix everything ourselves, but that if we go to God in prayer, and wait, expectantly, obediently, and give space to God to act, that we can also have hope that we too are invited to the wedding super of the lamb, we can be confident that the best is yet to come, the celebrations are just beginning.
Jesus’ disciples saw and had faith.
His actions call for a response.
What is our response to that today?
Sermon: 15th February 2009
Preached at Sunnyside.
If we get Jesus right everything else follows
Today is sometimes called Creation Sunday. It’s easy to see why when we look at the four readings for today.
1. We’ve already shared part of Psalm 104 which sings in praise of God’s power in creation, “How many are your works: the earth is full of your creatures”
2. The second Old Testament reading is from Proverbs 8; a beautiful piece of Hebrew poetry that refers to the place of Wisdom, often associated with the Holy Spirit, in the beginning of creation. “I was there when he set the heavens in place, when he marked out the horizon on the face of the deep, when he established the clouds above and fixed securely the fountains of the deep, when he gave the sea its boundary so the waters would not overstep his command, and when he marked out the foundations of the earth. Then I was the craftsman at his side. I was filled with delight day after day, rejoicing always in his presence, rejoicing in his whole world.” This writing emphasises the feminine attributes of the creator God in Wisdom. It has a lightness of touch and a sense of playful creativity that I find delightful.
3. The Gospel reading is the New Testament Greek text, John 1:1-18, which we have heard several times recently, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.” This is about Jesus’ presence at the beginning of creation, and about his nature as God and man. The Greek text is serious and heavyweight, and emphasises the masculine attributes of the creator God in Word.
As well as being two glorious pieces of writing, they combine to make an important point about the co-operative, interactive nature of God – about that dance of delight that marks the creative relationship between the three persons of the trinity.
4. And finally, the Epistle, from Colossians that we have just heard, in the context of creation, redemption and authority, “Jesus is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning…” I think that if we get our picture of Jesus right, everything else follows.
Those four texts give us the shape of Creation Sunday and tell us that:
Firstly, God’s power created and sustains our world.
Secondly, Wisdom and the Word existed before and worked in creation.
Thirdly, Jesus was fully human and fully divine.
Finally, Jesus is the head of our church, alive; resurrected and reconciling all things to himself. Renewal comes through Jesus. If we get our picture of Jesus right, everything else follows.
We all have slightly different mind-pictures of God, and some of our pictures can be quite unhelpful. When I was little I learned about God in a slightly schizophrenic way that made me think on the one hand of an ever present spy, ready to tell my parents about anything I did that was wrong – a sort of cosmic baby-sitter. On the other hand was a rather willocky and anaemic ‘gentle Jesus meek and mild’ who seemed very nice, but lacking energy. What was your picture?
Obviously my picture changed as I grew up – I no longer believe that Jesus had blonde hair and blue eyes for instance - but it does help me to understand why some people see God purely in terms of judgement and fear, or simply don’t see the point in faith.
All our pictures are likely to contain some kind of truth. But I think for all of us, in slightly different ways, our pictures of God may be less than adequate
Do we always think about God in a way that gives us a right sense of reverence, awe and majesty, holiness (set apartness), or do we sometimes reduce God to the equivalent of a ‘tame lion’ that we try to manipulate, control or ignore, and who is powerless to help us?
Do we always think about God in a way that gives us a right sense of the loving intimacy, forgiveness, compassion and care, or do we sometimes distort our picture of God to the equivalent of a disassociated dictator, hurling the occasional thunderbolt, and playing dice with humanity.
If God is neither a dictator nor a pussy-cat, how do we find a balance?
I think we find that balance by focusing on Jesus, God the Son – the second person of the trinity. If we get our picture of Jesus right, then everything else follows, even when we don’t understand it all.
In the Old Testament text, Exodus 33:20, “But," he said, "you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live."” God is physically separate from humanity, and few people develop a personal relationship with God. However, as soon as Jesus is born as a human – man born of woman, God gains a human face, and that relationship becomes personal. “No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only, who is at the Father’s side, has made him known” (John 1:18) We can identify with that human being.
Jesus is there, as the second person of the trinity when the world is created- as God, and yet is able to become human in order to reach us, to create that opportunity for a personal relationship.
We often quote from a passage from Philippians that speaks about Jesus, “Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.” That deliberate and willing putting aside of divine power meant that Jesus was able to become completely human. John tells us that “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us”. Jesus became fully human for us.
But we are hugely mistaken if we then go on to think that Jesus’ humanity meant that he was not and is not God. If Jesus was only human, only a good man then his death was sad and unfair, but nothing more. And our hopes of salvation are meaningless, a delusion.
John 1 makes it very clear that “the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning… the world was made through him”.
That’s what the Colossians passage goes to such lengths to point out. Look at what is says about Christ, “he is the image of the invisible God.” We can’t see God, but we know what God is like by looking at Christ.
“He is the firstborn over all creation... by him all things were created, things in heaven and earth, visible and invisible”
Look at verse 16. “I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible.” Do you recognise these words from the Nicene creed? The bishops who met to debate, fight and eventually agree the statement of belief that the Christian church has used worldwide since the fourth century, weren’t just coming up with a set of fusty words to recite brainlessly on a Sunday; they were expressing truths about God Father, Son and Holy Spirit, truths that the church has held to despite many, many differences, through the centuries since then. The words of our creeds define Christianity and differentiate it from any other faith. They refute the pic’n’mix approach to spirituality and claim Christ as God. They show how, if we have a right picture of Jesus, everything else follows form that.
Jesus, present in creation and present now, as part of a Trinitarian God is “the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy”
Those truths are based in scripture, and those same truths, in those same words, are shared in churches in every town and county in this land, and in most countries of the world even today.
You will also hear echoes of the Colossians passage in the words of our peace, and in the Eucharistic Prayer that we are using today for our communion.
This Passage tells us that Jesus was present at and part of the activities of creation, holds all power, is before all things and holds everything together. Jesus, a human being created in the image of God, is head of the body that is the church, is the firstborn of the dead – supreme in everything, on earth or in heaven.
And by Jesus’ death and resurrection, all things are reconciled. The healing that we as humans all so desperately need, has been bought by Jesus through his blood, shed on a cross, and his rising from the dead.
(Arms open) When Jesus opened his arms on the cross he held together all those tensions and balances, divinity and humanity, past and future, brokenness and healing.
In our faith we also hold out our arms to the death and the resurrection, the despair and the hope, we hold in balance our ideas of God – awesome and majestic, loving and compassionate. That balance is accessible to us through Jesus, God made human, man born of woman, Wisdom and Word, “before all things”; with power and vulnerability “holding all things together”, “making peace through his blood, shed on the cross”.
This is what we share when we look outwards from ourselves and share the peace; when we focus on finding Jesus in each other; when we join together as one church – the bride of Christ, united in our baptismal faith, at our communion.
When we think about God’s continuing action in creation, and in re-creation and renewal today, we focus on Jesus because, as the old saying goes, if we get Jesus right everything else follows. Amen
If we get Jesus right everything else follows
Today is sometimes called Creation Sunday. It’s easy to see why when we look at the four readings for today.
1. We’ve already shared part of Psalm 104 which sings in praise of God’s power in creation, “How many are your works: the earth is full of your creatures”
2. The second Old Testament reading is from Proverbs 8; a beautiful piece of Hebrew poetry that refers to the place of Wisdom, often associated with the Holy Spirit, in the beginning of creation. “I was there when he set the heavens in place, when he marked out the horizon on the face of the deep, when he established the clouds above and fixed securely the fountains of the deep, when he gave the sea its boundary so the waters would not overstep his command, and when he marked out the foundations of the earth. Then I was the craftsman at his side. I was filled with delight day after day, rejoicing always in his presence, rejoicing in his whole world.” This writing emphasises the feminine attributes of the creator God in Wisdom. It has a lightness of touch and a sense of playful creativity that I find delightful.
3. The Gospel reading is the New Testament Greek text, John 1:1-18, which we have heard several times recently, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.” This is about Jesus’ presence at the beginning of creation, and about his nature as God and man. The Greek text is serious and heavyweight, and emphasises the masculine attributes of the creator God in Word.
As well as being two glorious pieces of writing, they combine to make an important point about the co-operative, interactive nature of God – about that dance of delight that marks the creative relationship between the three persons of the trinity.
4. And finally, the Epistle, from Colossians that we have just heard, in the context of creation, redemption and authority, “Jesus is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning…” I think that if we get our picture of Jesus right, everything else follows.
Those four texts give us the shape of Creation Sunday and tell us that:
Firstly, God’s power created and sustains our world.
Secondly, Wisdom and the Word existed before and worked in creation.
Thirdly, Jesus was fully human and fully divine.
Finally, Jesus is the head of our church, alive; resurrected and reconciling all things to himself. Renewal comes through Jesus. If we get our picture of Jesus right, everything else follows.
We all have slightly different mind-pictures of God, and some of our pictures can be quite unhelpful. When I was little I learned about God in a slightly schizophrenic way that made me think on the one hand of an ever present spy, ready to tell my parents about anything I did that was wrong – a sort of cosmic baby-sitter. On the other hand was a rather willocky and anaemic ‘gentle Jesus meek and mild’ who seemed very nice, but lacking energy. What was your picture?
Obviously my picture changed as I grew up – I no longer believe that Jesus had blonde hair and blue eyes for instance - but it does help me to understand why some people see God purely in terms of judgement and fear, or simply don’t see the point in faith.
All our pictures are likely to contain some kind of truth. But I think for all of us, in slightly different ways, our pictures of God may be less than adequate
Do we always think about God in a way that gives us a right sense of reverence, awe and majesty, holiness (set apartness), or do we sometimes reduce God to the equivalent of a ‘tame lion’ that we try to manipulate, control or ignore, and who is powerless to help us?
Do we always think about God in a way that gives us a right sense of the loving intimacy, forgiveness, compassion and care, or do we sometimes distort our picture of God to the equivalent of a disassociated dictator, hurling the occasional thunderbolt, and playing dice with humanity.
If God is neither a dictator nor a pussy-cat, how do we find a balance?
I think we find that balance by focusing on Jesus, God the Son – the second person of the trinity. If we get our picture of Jesus right, then everything else follows, even when we don’t understand it all.
In the Old Testament text, Exodus 33:20, “But," he said, "you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live."” God is physically separate from humanity, and few people develop a personal relationship with God. However, as soon as Jesus is born as a human – man born of woman, God gains a human face, and that relationship becomes personal. “No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only, who is at the Father’s side, has made him known” (John 1:18) We can identify with that human being.
Jesus is there, as the second person of the trinity when the world is created- as God, and yet is able to become human in order to reach us, to create that opportunity for a personal relationship.
We often quote from a passage from Philippians that speaks about Jesus, “Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.” That deliberate and willing putting aside of divine power meant that Jesus was able to become completely human. John tells us that “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us”. Jesus became fully human for us.
But we are hugely mistaken if we then go on to think that Jesus’ humanity meant that he was not and is not God. If Jesus was only human, only a good man then his death was sad and unfair, but nothing more. And our hopes of salvation are meaningless, a delusion.
John 1 makes it very clear that “the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning… the world was made through him”.
That’s what the Colossians passage goes to such lengths to point out. Look at what is says about Christ, “he is the image of the invisible God.” We can’t see God, but we know what God is like by looking at Christ.
“He is the firstborn over all creation... by him all things were created, things in heaven and earth, visible and invisible”
Look at verse 16. “I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible.” Do you recognise these words from the Nicene creed? The bishops who met to debate, fight and eventually agree the statement of belief that the Christian church has used worldwide since the fourth century, weren’t just coming up with a set of fusty words to recite brainlessly on a Sunday; they were expressing truths about God Father, Son and Holy Spirit, truths that the church has held to despite many, many differences, through the centuries since then. The words of our creeds define Christianity and differentiate it from any other faith. They refute the pic’n’mix approach to spirituality and claim Christ as God. They show how, if we have a right picture of Jesus, everything else follows form that.
Jesus, present in creation and present now, as part of a Trinitarian God is “the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy”
Those truths are based in scripture, and those same truths, in those same words, are shared in churches in every town and county in this land, and in most countries of the world even today.
You will also hear echoes of the Colossians passage in the words of our peace, and in the Eucharistic Prayer that we are using today for our communion.
This Passage tells us that Jesus was present at and part of the activities of creation, holds all power, is before all things and holds everything together. Jesus, a human being created in the image of God, is head of the body that is the church, is the firstborn of the dead – supreme in everything, on earth or in heaven.
And by Jesus’ death and resurrection, all things are reconciled. The healing that we as humans all so desperately need, has been bought by Jesus through his blood, shed on a cross, and his rising from the dead.
(Arms open) When Jesus opened his arms on the cross he held together all those tensions and balances, divinity and humanity, past and future, brokenness and healing.
In our faith we also hold out our arms to the death and the resurrection, the despair and the hope, we hold in balance our ideas of God – awesome and majestic, loving and compassionate. That balance is accessible to us through Jesus, God made human, man born of woman, Wisdom and Word, “before all things”; with power and vulnerability “holding all things together”, “making peace through his blood, shed on the cross”.
This is what we share when we look outwards from ourselves and share the peace; when we focus on finding Jesus in each other; when we join together as one church – the bride of Christ, united in our baptismal faith, at our communion.
When we think about God’s continuing action in creation, and in re-creation and renewal today, we focus on Jesus because, as the old saying goes, if we get Jesus right everything else follows. Amen
Sermon: 22nd February 2009
Preached at Sunnyside.
Reading: Mark 9:2-9
We acknowledge the reality of life as it is, and live with the hope and promise of a resurrected life with Jesus.
In the early 1990s I took my young daughter to a funeral for a man who had been a member of my church, and who had that happy knack of being friends with everyone.
As a result the church was packed, including many children of all ages, all of whom had asked to be there. I had known him as an elderly man, who lived in the local warden-assisted flats, drove a mobility scooter and walked with sticks, and all I knew about him was that he was the father-in-law of the vicar, and a lovely person.
Imagine my surprise to learn about his life, to discover that he spoke mandarin Chinese and had been a missionary in China, that he had lost both legs, hence his difficulty in walking, and had lived a life of adventure and service to God.
The stories kept on coming and by the end of the service I looked at his life in a completely different light.
That’s quite a common experience at funerals, as we think we know someone, and then we find out something that broadens and enriches our ideas completely.
It’s unlikely to be as dramatic as today’s story though, which tells us about one of those times when people who thought they knew Jesus, suddenly saw him in a different light.
Marks’ gospel starts with the sentence, “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God”. It tells us the topic of the whole gospel, but as we read we have to remember that the people in the stories didn’t know that sentence. They didn’t know they were part of the story of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. They had to work out who Jesus was as they went through the experience of knowing him and learning to trust him. They learned to live with the reality of life, but they carried the hope that they might see the Messiah.
In Chapter 8:29 Peter has already answered the question, "Who do you say I am?" with, "You are the Christ.’ So Peter had an idea about Jesus. He saw him as the anointed one, the Messiah, but Peter didn’t really understand what that meant.
In Mark’s gospel God’s presence has already broken through at Jesus’ baptism, with the words, “"You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased." But other people didn’t see that. This time Jesus and three of his disciples have climbed a mountain, and the divine breaks through again. This time they all heard the words, “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!”
I’d like you to stop and think for a moment. What would it be like to be there with Peter and James and John, and to see Jesus transfigured, and to hear the voice of God. Would we feel the same sense of inadequacy that the disciples felt. We’re told that they did not know what to say, they were so frightened. What would you feel? What would you say? What would you do?
Peter, wanted to stay in the glory moment, to stay on the mountain with Moses, Elijah and Jesus. But the mountain moments of all our lives are a temporary respite from reality. This one was too. It connected Jesus’ baptism, and the glory of the resurrection. It was a significant marker in the story of our salvation; in the story of God’s plan to save all of humanity, including us.
But they had to come down from the mountain. Jesus had to move forwards to Gethsemane and the cross in order to earn our salvation. The glory of that moment of transfiguration is brighter and lighter and somehow more poignant in our imagination because we know that the worst is yet to come in this story. The glory of the transfiguration contrasts with the darkness of the cross, the despair to come, and the hope to follow.
We too can have our mountain moments – those times when we see things in a new and positive way; when we see Jesus reflected in people in ways that we didn’t expect. It can be tempting, like Peter, to want to stay there, to leave the world outside that experience behind – to shelter with the saints. Sometimes holidays are like that aren’t they? We have such a good time that we imagine spending the rest of our lives living like that.
But it isn’t permanent. We have to come home, to pick up the threads of our daily lives and continue. Peter, James and John were given a glimpse of the present – the present that they couldn’t normally see. They were given a glimpse of the future promise. And they were told, “Listen to him”. And then they had to come back, down the mountain, and pick up their lives, just as we do.
But when we do that, we also acknowledge the reality of life as we live it today, with all the difficulties and problems, the sadness and pain and guilt that we carry, as well as the hope and promise of forgiveness and new life in Jesus.
Acknowledging that reality isn’t just about our own lives. It is about acknowledging that other people need our help; to bring help and justice, to work to make a difference. It is about realising that, no matter how wonderful we think our lives are today, how excited we are by the promise of a shared life with Jesus, or conversely how much we fear and worry about our own futures, this isn’t just about us.
This story is about the hope and promise of a resurrected life with Jesus, it is about acknowledging Jesus in the reality of our lives. But if all it does is make us smug then we’ve missed the point.
Jesus taught us to value everyone, to care for others, to look out for each other. Jesus singled out the downtrodden, the insignificant and the marginalised. "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!"
Jesus used examples of people on the margins of society to demonstrate that God’s kingdom is for everyone, but just for ‘people like us’. And he asked us to be the difference in those lives. "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!"
That’s quite a challenge. In order to pick up on it I think we need to remember the transfiguration – to do what the disciples did and keep that memory in our minds – the moment when God broke through and spoke to men, and showed his glory. We need that memory so that when we think about our own and other people’s experience of the cross, our own and other people’s times of trial and testing, we can keep our hope alive.
We do well to remember that it wasn’t just the disciples who came back down the mountain. Jesus came too, and willingly continued his journey, to Gethsemane, the cross and beyond. His love for his disciples, and his love for us, was demonstrated by his willingness to weave his life into ours, to share with us our burdens and sorrows, and our sins.
Without the love and hope that Jesus brings to our lives we have only our humanity and our problems.
With Jesus, we acknowledge the reality of our lives today, and we do it in the full and certain knowledge of Christ’s presence with us, and in the excitement and anticipation of the hope of glory to come. "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!"
Reading: Mark 9:2-9
We acknowledge the reality of life as it is, and live with the hope and promise of a resurrected life with Jesus.
In the early 1990s I took my young daughter to a funeral for a man who had been a member of my church, and who had that happy knack of being friends with everyone.
As a result the church was packed, including many children of all ages, all of whom had asked to be there. I had known him as an elderly man, who lived in the local warden-assisted flats, drove a mobility scooter and walked with sticks, and all I knew about him was that he was the father-in-law of the vicar, and a lovely person.
Imagine my surprise to learn about his life, to discover that he spoke mandarin Chinese and had been a missionary in China, that he had lost both legs, hence his difficulty in walking, and had lived a life of adventure and service to God.
The stories kept on coming and by the end of the service I looked at his life in a completely different light.
That’s quite a common experience at funerals, as we think we know someone, and then we find out something that broadens and enriches our ideas completely.
It’s unlikely to be as dramatic as today’s story though, which tells us about one of those times when people who thought they knew Jesus, suddenly saw him in a different light.
Marks’ gospel starts with the sentence, “The beginning of the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God”. It tells us the topic of the whole gospel, but as we read we have to remember that the people in the stories didn’t know that sentence. They didn’t know they were part of the story of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. They had to work out who Jesus was as they went through the experience of knowing him and learning to trust him. They learned to live with the reality of life, but they carried the hope that they might see the Messiah.
In Chapter 8:29 Peter has already answered the question, "Who do you say I am?" with, "You are the Christ.’ So Peter had an idea about Jesus. He saw him as the anointed one, the Messiah, but Peter didn’t really understand what that meant.
In Mark’s gospel God’s presence has already broken through at Jesus’ baptism, with the words, “"You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased." But other people didn’t see that. This time Jesus and three of his disciples have climbed a mountain, and the divine breaks through again. This time they all heard the words, “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!”
I’d like you to stop and think for a moment. What would it be like to be there with Peter and James and John, and to see Jesus transfigured, and to hear the voice of God. Would we feel the same sense of inadequacy that the disciples felt. We’re told that they did not know what to say, they were so frightened. What would you feel? What would you say? What would you do?
Peter, wanted to stay in the glory moment, to stay on the mountain with Moses, Elijah and Jesus. But the mountain moments of all our lives are a temporary respite from reality. This one was too. It connected Jesus’ baptism, and the glory of the resurrection. It was a significant marker in the story of our salvation; in the story of God’s plan to save all of humanity, including us.
But they had to come down from the mountain. Jesus had to move forwards to Gethsemane and the cross in order to earn our salvation. The glory of that moment of transfiguration is brighter and lighter and somehow more poignant in our imagination because we know that the worst is yet to come in this story. The glory of the transfiguration contrasts with the darkness of the cross, the despair to come, and the hope to follow.
We too can have our mountain moments – those times when we see things in a new and positive way; when we see Jesus reflected in people in ways that we didn’t expect. It can be tempting, like Peter, to want to stay there, to leave the world outside that experience behind – to shelter with the saints. Sometimes holidays are like that aren’t they? We have such a good time that we imagine spending the rest of our lives living like that.
But it isn’t permanent. We have to come home, to pick up the threads of our daily lives and continue. Peter, James and John were given a glimpse of the present – the present that they couldn’t normally see. They were given a glimpse of the future promise. And they were told, “Listen to him”. And then they had to come back, down the mountain, and pick up their lives, just as we do.
But when we do that, we also acknowledge the reality of life as we live it today, with all the difficulties and problems, the sadness and pain and guilt that we carry, as well as the hope and promise of forgiveness and new life in Jesus.
Acknowledging that reality isn’t just about our own lives. It is about acknowledging that other people need our help; to bring help and justice, to work to make a difference. It is about realising that, no matter how wonderful we think our lives are today, how excited we are by the promise of a shared life with Jesus, or conversely how much we fear and worry about our own futures, this isn’t just about us.
This story is about the hope and promise of a resurrected life with Jesus, it is about acknowledging Jesus in the reality of our lives. But if all it does is make us smug then we’ve missed the point.
Jesus taught us to value everyone, to care for others, to look out for each other. Jesus singled out the downtrodden, the insignificant and the marginalised. "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!"
Jesus used examples of people on the margins of society to demonstrate that God’s kingdom is for everyone, but just for ‘people like us’. And he asked us to be the difference in those lives. "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!"
That’s quite a challenge. In order to pick up on it I think we need to remember the transfiguration – to do what the disciples did and keep that memory in our minds – the moment when God broke through and spoke to men, and showed his glory. We need that memory so that when we think about our own and other people’s experience of the cross, our own and other people’s times of trial and testing, we can keep our hope alive.
We do well to remember that it wasn’t just the disciples who came back down the mountain. Jesus came too, and willingly continued his journey, to Gethsemane, the cross and beyond. His love for his disciples, and his love for us, was demonstrated by his willingness to weave his life into ours, to share with us our burdens and sorrows, and our sins.
Without the love and hope that Jesus brings to our lives we have only our humanity and our problems.
With Jesus, we acknowledge the reality of our lives today, and we do it in the full and certain knowledge of Christ’s presence with us, and in the excitement and anticipation of the hope of glory to come. "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!"
Sermon: 8th Feb 2009
Preached at Sunnyside at 8am.
Reading: Psalm 147, Mark 9:2-9
This week a report was published by the Children’s Society, called “The Good Chidlhood Enquiry.” It tells us that in the UK we work longer hours than any other country in Western Europe, and this is putting strain on family life. This report has been head-lined as “‘selfish’ adults damaging the self-esteem of their children”, and the Archbishop of Canterbury suggests that “the well-being of children and young people in this country is far from being the priority it should be”.
I wonder how much of this is the result of us trying to squash too many activities and commitments into too little time, with no space for re-creation?
Have we all fallen prey to the myth that ‘you can have it all’ – as long as you work hard enough? Are we so tied up with consumerism that we must keep working to fund the next life-style accessory. Are parents burned out by long working hours?
Advertisers who assert, “Because you’re worth it”, or “You deserve it” (brackets, without having to work for it), play on our vulnerabilities; we all want to feel valued and special. If we can do that by spending money then the advertiser has succeeded. But do we feel any better afterwards?
The problem that I see with trying to spend our way to happiness is that the focus is turned in on ourselves, our wants, our needs, and that’s what has been highlighted by the ‘selfishness’ headlines. In among all the encouragement to treat ourselves, there has been precious little talk about responsibility or duty to others, or looking after one’s neighbour. If we add to that the crushing disillusionment of adults who have sacrificed precious time with their children to work long hours to achieve the ‘all’, only to discover it is a chimera, then it’s no wonder that in the general financial collapse we hear voices calling for a more caring and ‘other-focused’ society.
It’s not all gloom though, because this week yet another person has said to me this week that they are well cared for by this church community. That sense of care and compassion for others is alive and well here, and I think it shines out from so many people I talk to. And that is something unique about Christians and the hope that we can offer people.
In today’s readings we find Paul after he has encountered Jesus and been healed of his previous attitudes, of legalism, blame, seeking after retribution – all of which were attitudes aimed at making himself feel worthy and better than other people.
Remember the story of Saul looking after the clothes of the false witnesses as Stephen was being stoned in Acts 7. These attitudes say more about Saul (as he was known then), than about the people he persecuted.
We know that Saul met Jesus on the Damascus Road and became Paul. Paul’s encounter with Jesus healed him to the point where he became the man who was able to write that beautiful passage about love in 1 Corinthians 13, “if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing” (v2).
But Paul wasn’t healed physically of his ‘thorn in the flesh’ some kind of problem that afflicts him. His healing was transformative a healing of broken attitudes and a complete change of heart.
Paul was so moved, so grateful, so changed, that he simply couldn’t help over-flowing with the gospel, telling everyone in every way, in every possible situation. He preached the gospel everywhere.
It might sound strange to hear that Paul was all things to all men. But this text shows Paul could adapt himself to fit in with different groups – Jews, Romans, Greeks, slaves. Nowadays I think we would say that he is tailoring his style to suit his audience.
Paul’s message was consistent; he wants everyone to know that faith in Jesus is healing, life-changing, life-affirming, and life-saving. The major change though is that he is telling people because he wants them to know for their own sake, not for his personal glory. Paul is not only a more effective disciple, he is also a much nicer person, and he is happier. What does that tell us about selfishness vs altruism?
The second event of this week was that I heard on the radio that people with faith are generally happier than those without. It was something to do with having a focus outside our own personal self-interest – being willing and wanting to give something back to society. I couldn’t find the reference, so if you know it, so please let me know afterwards. Doesn’t that tie in with what Paul discovered for himself? Doesn’t that tie in with the message I had about a caring Christian church here?
So we can see what faith in Jesus, and working out of that faith can do. But what was Jesus himself doing in our reading from Mark. I’ll note the comment about not allowing the demons to speak, but I won’t explain that one today – I’m sure we will refer to it many times during the year ahead.
For today I want to identify two points:
The first is that when Jesus arrived at Simon (soon to be Peter)’s house, he found Simon’s mother-in-law with a fever, and healed her. Her response, like Paul’s later on, is to want to serve. Now I don’t think this is a proof-text about women’s place in the home. I think it is another example, like Paul, of an encounter with Jesus leading to a response that is not about self-interest, but about serving others.
Shouldn’t that be our response too?
We then read that Jesus healed many people. Jesus’ attention was on the needs of those around him. Their need was great, the yearning for wholeness was there, and Jesus had compassion on many people.
But then we read something else. The second part of the reading tells us that Jesus didn’t only attend to those he was ministering to; he kept his focus on God. Jesus took time out to pray, to meet personally with God, alone in prayer, to spend time with God and so to refresh himself for his ministry. Moving between looking outwards to the needy and looking upwards, Jesus was able to re-create his energy, sustain his own ministry, to keep his focus on preaching and on making himself known.
After the publication of the Good Childhood report, and the news that people with faith are happier, there has been a third event this week that has brought those two things, and our bible readings into focus for me.
That has been the snow. Psalm 147 (one of today’s readings) tells us that God “covers the sky with clouds; he supplies the earth with rain and makes grass grow on the hills.” I could paraphrase that this week as “he makes the snow fall and turns our fields white”.
Now I know that snow can be a danger and a nuisance to a lot of people, but something about it makes my heart sing – maybe it’s the lightness and brightness in the middle of grey days. And it had a wonderful effect this week because, people came out to play. Parents pulled small children around the town on plastic sledges; children built snowmen – I saw one boy dive headfirst into a snowman and come up laughing; teenagers shrieked and threw snowballs at each other. The unexpected day off work seemed to signal a chance for lots of people to relax, spend time with their families in play, and experience a bit of re-creation for themselves. Now I know it’s not a universal panacea, but it has made a difference to some people and I’ve been travelling around with a smile on my face as I’ve watched it.
This week’s snow has underlined to me how much of the healing that humanity needs is of the brokenness in our hearts and minds, the over-work and stress, anxiety and despair. We can bring all those to Jesus, who protects the vulnerable, heals the wounded and broken, and re-creates us as we focus on God. When we focus in on ourselves we are not just selfish; we are like a turkey aiming to fly. We can wear ourselves out with flapping, but using our own strength alone we probably won’t get very far from the ground.
Isaiah 40: 31 but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, hey will walk and not be faint.
When we turn to God, we are no longer alone; we allow ourselves to be refreshed and supported, we can then soar like the eagle of Isaiah 40, resting on the Holy Spirit. Our strength is in the Lord, our healing comes from God, our lives are transformed by our faith in Jesus, and our response is to want, to choose to serve others.
Reading: Psalm 147, Mark 9:2-9
This week a report was published by the Children’s Society, called “The Good Chidlhood Enquiry.” It tells us that in the UK we work longer hours than any other country in Western Europe, and this is putting strain on family life. This report has been head-lined as “‘selfish’ adults damaging the self-esteem of their children”, and the Archbishop of Canterbury suggests that “the well-being of children and young people in this country is far from being the priority it should be”.
I wonder how much of this is the result of us trying to squash too many activities and commitments into too little time, with no space for re-creation?
Have we all fallen prey to the myth that ‘you can have it all’ – as long as you work hard enough? Are we so tied up with consumerism that we must keep working to fund the next life-style accessory. Are parents burned out by long working hours?
Advertisers who assert, “Because you’re worth it”, or “You deserve it” (brackets, without having to work for it), play on our vulnerabilities; we all want to feel valued and special. If we can do that by spending money then the advertiser has succeeded. But do we feel any better afterwards?
The problem that I see with trying to spend our way to happiness is that the focus is turned in on ourselves, our wants, our needs, and that’s what has been highlighted by the ‘selfishness’ headlines. In among all the encouragement to treat ourselves, there has been precious little talk about responsibility or duty to others, or looking after one’s neighbour. If we add to that the crushing disillusionment of adults who have sacrificed precious time with their children to work long hours to achieve the ‘all’, only to discover it is a chimera, then it’s no wonder that in the general financial collapse we hear voices calling for a more caring and ‘other-focused’ society.
It’s not all gloom though, because this week yet another person has said to me this week that they are well cared for by this church community. That sense of care and compassion for others is alive and well here, and I think it shines out from so many people I talk to. And that is something unique about Christians and the hope that we can offer people.
In today’s readings we find Paul after he has encountered Jesus and been healed of his previous attitudes, of legalism, blame, seeking after retribution – all of which were attitudes aimed at making himself feel worthy and better than other people.
Remember the story of Saul looking after the clothes of the false witnesses as Stephen was being stoned in Acts 7. These attitudes say more about Saul (as he was known then), than about the people he persecuted.
We know that Saul met Jesus on the Damascus Road and became Paul. Paul’s encounter with Jesus healed him to the point where he became the man who was able to write that beautiful passage about love in 1 Corinthians 13, “if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing” (v2).
But Paul wasn’t healed physically of his ‘thorn in the flesh’ some kind of problem that afflicts him. His healing was transformative a healing of broken attitudes and a complete change of heart.
Paul was so moved, so grateful, so changed, that he simply couldn’t help over-flowing with the gospel, telling everyone in every way, in every possible situation. He preached the gospel everywhere.
It might sound strange to hear that Paul was all things to all men. But this text shows Paul could adapt himself to fit in with different groups – Jews, Romans, Greeks, slaves. Nowadays I think we would say that he is tailoring his style to suit his audience.
Paul’s message was consistent; he wants everyone to know that faith in Jesus is healing, life-changing, life-affirming, and life-saving. The major change though is that he is telling people because he wants them to know for their own sake, not for his personal glory. Paul is not only a more effective disciple, he is also a much nicer person, and he is happier. What does that tell us about selfishness vs altruism?
The second event of this week was that I heard on the radio that people with faith are generally happier than those without. It was something to do with having a focus outside our own personal self-interest – being willing and wanting to give something back to society. I couldn’t find the reference, so if you know it, so please let me know afterwards. Doesn’t that tie in with what Paul discovered for himself? Doesn’t that tie in with the message I had about a caring Christian church here?
So we can see what faith in Jesus, and working out of that faith can do. But what was Jesus himself doing in our reading from Mark. I’ll note the comment about not allowing the demons to speak, but I won’t explain that one today – I’m sure we will refer to it many times during the year ahead.
For today I want to identify two points:
The first is that when Jesus arrived at Simon (soon to be Peter)’s house, he found Simon’s mother-in-law with a fever, and healed her. Her response, like Paul’s later on, is to want to serve. Now I don’t think this is a proof-text about women’s place in the home. I think it is another example, like Paul, of an encounter with Jesus leading to a response that is not about self-interest, but about serving others.
Shouldn’t that be our response too?
We then read that Jesus healed many people. Jesus’ attention was on the needs of those around him. Their need was great, the yearning for wholeness was there, and Jesus had compassion on many people.
But then we read something else. The second part of the reading tells us that Jesus didn’t only attend to those he was ministering to; he kept his focus on God. Jesus took time out to pray, to meet personally with God, alone in prayer, to spend time with God and so to refresh himself for his ministry. Moving between looking outwards to the needy and looking upwards, Jesus was able to re-create his energy, sustain his own ministry, to keep his focus on preaching and on making himself known.
After the publication of the Good Childhood report, and the news that people with faith are happier, there has been a third event this week that has brought those two things, and our bible readings into focus for me.
That has been the snow. Psalm 147 (one of today’s readings) tells us that God “covers the sky with clouds; he supplies the earth with rain and makes grass grow on the hills.” I could paraphrase that this week as “he makes the snow fall and turns our fields white”.
Now I know that snow can be a danger and a nuisance to a lot of people, but something about it makes my heart sing – maybe it’s the lightness and brightness in the middle of grey days. And it had a wonderful effect this week because, people came out to play. Parents pulled small children around the town on plastic sledges; children built snowmen – I saw one boy dive headfirst into a snowman and come up laughing; teenagers shrieked and threw snowballs at each other. The unexpected day off work seemed to signal a chance for lots of people to relax, spend time with their families in play, and experience a bit of re-creation for themselves. Now I know it’s not a universal panacea, but it has made a difference to some people and I’ve been travelling around with a smile on my face as I’ve watched it.
This week’s snow has underlined to me how much of the healing that humanity needs is of the brokenness in our hearts and minds, the over-work and stress, anxiety and despair. We can bring all those to Jesus, who protects the vulnerable, heals the wounded and broken, and re-creates us as we focus on God. When we focus in on ourselves we are not just selfish; we are like a turkey aiming to fly. We can wear ourselves out with flapping, but using our own strength alone we probably won’t get very far from the ground.
Isaiah 40: 31 but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, hey will walk and not be faint.
When we turn to God, we are no longer alone; we allow ourselves to be refreshed and supported, we can then soar like the eagle of Isaiah 40, resting on the Holy Spirit. Our strength is in the Lord, our healing comes from God, our lives are transformed by our faith in Jesus, and our response is to want, to choose to serve others.
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