Luke 4: 16-22
Do you know who the Blues Brothers are? The Blues Brothers were a band created by John Belushi and Dan Ackroyd in the 1970s, which went on to make a block busting movie in the early 80s. The movie centred around a mission that had been given them - to pay some outstanding tax, owed by a Convent which had brought them up as boys. The Convent was run by a terrifying Mother Superior...a nun who the Blues Brothers called 'the Penguin'.
The Blues Brothers decided that the only way they knew how to raise that kind of money for the Penguin was to bring together their old 'rhythm and blues review' band - and put on a concert. In the process they manage to get blown up, extort money out of another band, break up the families of their old band members, terrify a restaurant full of wealthy diners, and get chased across the county by the entire Chicago police force and most of the American Army. But it doesn't matter. They are certain that they will fulfill their task because, as they keep reminding themselves..."We're on a mission from God"!
Of course, what the movie-makers were doing was parodying history. The claim that 'we're on a mission from God' has been a dangerous, often evil justification for all sorts of horrors. The Muslim armies that swept across the Middle East and North Africa in the 8 and 900s thought they were on a mission from God. The Crusaders who marched down from Western Europe to 're-conquer' Jerusalem thought they were on a mission from God. So did Al Quaida, when they blew up the Twin Towers. So did the Taliban soldiers who battled for the capital of Afghanistan last week.
So, does that mean that God doesn't set mission targets? Should we ignore anyone who says that God has sent them on a mission. Well, no. That would be rather like throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Just because some people have perverted religion for selfish ends doesn't mean that religion itself is wrong. Only the people who have made it wrong are wrong. Religion - any religion - can only be judged fairly by the teaching of its founder.
In today's Gospel, we heard Jesus declaring his mission. It wasn't a mission to conquer anyone. It wasn't a mission to take up arms against anyone. No...listen again to the mission that Jesus believed that he had been given by God; a mission that he read straight out of the Scriptures, from the 61st chapter of Isaiah:
"The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind; to let the oppressed go free and to proclaim the year of the Lord's favour.
This, then, is Jesus mission. Its a mission of mercy...a mission to the poor, and the imprisoned and the blind and the oppressed. Its a mission which is rooted in God's passionate love for his children - a love which flowed out through Jesus and touched the lives of the marginalised of the world. In this simple quotation, Jesus states his absolute priority for the poor. He re-emphasises the message of his birth - the birth in a stable, attended by shepherds; the message that God is for the poor and the marginalised...and by extension, against the rich and the powerful.
Of course this is not just an earthly, political vision. It's not only a declaration of love for the poor and the sick and the blind of Jewish society. It's also a spiritual vision. In Luke's Gospel, Jesus' absolute priority for the poor is re-emphasised in the so called 'Sermon on the Plain' - in chapter 6. "Blessed are you who are poor", he says, "for yours is the Kingdom of God". But in Matthew's gospel, this same message is given a different 'spin'. Like a diamond, with many faces, Matthew helps us to see the spiritual as well as the political message. In Matthew, chapter 5, during the "Sermon on the Mount" we hear Jesus say, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God".
Taking these two 'spins' - these two interpretations of Jesus' words, written down decades after he spoke them, we see that Jesus left his followers with two very clear senses of his mission priorities: First, they were to show God's love to the poor and the sick and the blind and the oppressed. But they were also to be people who reached out to the poor in spirit...to those who didn't yet know the richness of a life lived with God, those who were oppressed by the cares of this world, and blinded by the vacant promises of wealth and consumerism, or held captive by the arid promises of war and violence.
So, Jesus calls his followers to an essentially two-pronged mission. Change the world, but also change hearts. Call people to live justly - but also call people to live with God.
Perhaps that is why so many well meaning attempts at changing the world over the centuries have ultimately failed. I sat down to read the Communist Manifesto last year. I was interested to see what it was that had inspired people like Stalin and Chairman Mao to create such turmoil and upheaval in Russia and China. I found it a fascinating document. So much of it makes absolute sense...and so much of what it condemns is still very much in evidence in our world. The rich are still getting richer...just look at what has happened in the banking world. And the poor are still getting poorer...just look at the awful horror or Haiti - made so much worse by the poverty and corruption of that nation. Whilst banks are awarding themselves wages of billion dollars - the Government of Haiti is crippled by a loan of just $890 million. Unable to feed its people or repair its infrastucture, or educate its children - for the sake of a loan of less than 100th of what bankers are paying themselves this year.
Marx and Engels, authors of the Communist Manifesto, were right in so many respects. They correctly identified the issue - that the wealth of the world is held in the hands of too few greedy people. But whilst their diagnosis of the disease was right, their prescription for the cure was not. They believed that justice for the poor could only be won if the poor themselves took it from the rich. They argued for the proletariat to rise up and over-thrown the bourgeois. They argued that goods should be shared equally among all people.
Many people have claimed that Communism would have been supported by Jesus. Jesus, they say, had a deep, abiding hatred of the bourgeois and the powerful. "He would", they say, "have been on the side of the poor - and would have wanted the poor to be blessed." And in many ways they would be right. But remember Jesus' two-pronged mission statement - a mission that was political and spiritual. Jesus knew that real change for the poor would only come when there was a change in the heart of the rich. For the rich to help the poor, the rich had first to become poor in spirit...conscious of their need for God. Indeed, for the poor to help the poor - for people to love their neighbours as themselves - they first need a spiritual awakening...a waking up to the knock of God on the door of their heart.
"Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you and you with me." (Revelation 3:20)
That's why Jesus commission to his disciples included a spiritual as well as political imperative. At the end of Matthew's Gospel, Jesus' final commission to his disciples is, once again, two-pronged. First, "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them...". There is the spiritual commission. Go and make disciples. Disciples are people who follow their master. Disciples, in Christian terms, are people who know their need of God. Those who are baptised are those who have repented, or who are learning to repent...to turn away from human ways of doing things, and turning towards God. They are the poor in spirit, who are promised the Kingdom of God.
Then, the second part of the commission: "...teach them to obey everything I have commanded you". Jesus' commands are the clear, unambiguous teachings. Love God, Love Neighbour. Feed the hungry, house the homeless, heal the sick, visit the imprisoned. Or in today's quotation from Isaiah: "bring good news to the poor...proclaim release to the captives...recovery of sight to the blind...and let the oppressed go free".
So - mission statements are interesting things. But unless they have that combination of the political and the spiritual, they are doomed to failure - as the communist parties of the world have discovered.
Last week, as you know, I published a draft five year plan...which we will be working on together next week. One of our choir members who shall remain nameless, Bill!, said to me after the service "Didn't Stalin publish a five year plan?". I know he was joking...his tongue was firmly in his cheek. But of course he was right.
But I rather hope that there will be a fundamental difference between Stalin's five year plan and ours. Stalin set out to positively squash religion. Karl Marx had taught that religion was a kind of opium for the people, which kept them subservient and drugged by the bourguois. So Stalin was determined to stamp out the spiritual dimension from Russian society entirely. His new Russia would be founded on science, and justice for the poor. There was no place for the spiritual in Stalin's plan. There was no vision of God at the heart of Stalin's plan and, as we know, "without a vision the people perish". (Proverbs 29:18)
Our plan, however, will have a spiritual core. Before we even think about the things we want to do together over the next five years, we are asking ourselves questions about the kind of people we want to be. My suggestion is that we want to be people who pray, learn and serve...but you may have other ideas; ideas I want to hear at next week's conference.
But in the meantime, I want to leave you with a challenge. Before we can truly say what we want to do together - it is helpful to think about who we want to be as individuals. My challenge to you, this week, as you prepare for the Conference is to think about what your own mission statement would say. Take a sheet of paper, and sit quietly for a while - thinking about your life. Where have you been? Where are you going? What would you want people to say of you after you have gone?
That's a great question isn't it. There's an modern proverb I like...which I try to remind myself of from time to time. It goes something like "when looking back over their life, there was never a man who said 'I wish I had spent more time at work!'" What would you want to be able to say of your life when you look back over it?
What is your mission statement? What are the words that sum up who you are, and who you want to be? Do you want to be a person who is known for their charity, or for their greed. Do you want people to comment on your external beauty, or your inner beauty? Do you want to be a better parent, or grandparent? Do you want to give more time to prayer, or to serving others? Or do you want to spend more time in front of the TV? It's your choice. You have, as St Augustine taught us, the free will to do what you want with your life. But what are you going to do with it? What is your mission statement?
Perhaps if we each take a little time this week to think about that question - we might all come to next week's conference with a clearer sense of what kind of church we want to be...and of what "mission from God" we are being given.
Amen.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
Setting off on the Journey
Matthew 2: 1-12
I suppose that many of us will have been on journeys over the last couple of weeks. Some of us have braved snow and ice, wind and rain to visit family and friends in far-flung corners of the British Isles.
I wonder whether some of you, like me, have wondered whose clever idea it was to put Christmas in the middle of winter! I mean - wouldn't it make a lot more sense to have Christmas in the summer...like the Australians do. Then we would be able to meet up with family and friends on the beach, or in our gardens - with lots of space for people to sit, and room for the kids to run about. But instead, we go on mammoth journeys, in the heart of the coldest months, to squash ourselves in Auntie Nellie's front room, six to a sofa, and try to catch up with one another over the excited squeaking of small people opening presents!
But I digress. My real point was that many of us will have made journeys over these last two weeks. Not, I suppose as arduous as the journeys made by the Wise Men to Bethlehem, but journeys none the less.
We don't know much about the Wise Men. The Bible calls them 'Magi', from which we get our word 'magician' - but that's not the full meaning of the word. The Magi were, as far as we can tell, learned men from another culture. They studied the stars, and no doubt studied the ancient texts of many religions too. They put that knowledge together came to the startling conclusion that a new King of the Jews was being born.
Actually, they were wrong. Jesus never was the King of Jews...despite the ironic poster that Pontius Pilate had nailed over his Cross. He was never proclaimed as King by more than a crowd in Jerusalem on Palm Sunday - who quickly changed their minds when they realised that he was no war-lord. He was never legally anointed as King, unless you count the anointing with perfume by an un-named woman in Bethany. To become a King - the sort of King that the Magi were expecting to find at the Palace in Jerusalem - you would have to have been born to a royal father, or to have conquered a country by war. Neither of these things happened to Jesus. In fact, according to John's Gospel, when Pilate asked him point blank whether he was the King of the Jews, Jesus replied "My Kingdom is not of this world". No, the Magi were wrong. The stars were not predicting the birth of the King of the Jews.
Another accident of the Magi was in their timing. After Herod had learned from them that a new King had supposedly been born in Bethlehem, he ordered the slaughter of all boys in Bethlehem under two years old. Matthew records the figure of two years as being 'in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi'.(Mt 2:16)
So, the Magi were perhaps not all that wise. They failed to correctly predict the birth of a new King of the Jews - and they were two years adrift even of Jesus birth. Wise men? Perhaps not.
So, to those who say that our future can be read in the stars, there is a warning here. The stars do not foretell our future, anymore than they did for the Magi. We would be wise not to place our future in the hands of star-gazers too.
And yet...and yet...
The Magi embarked on a journey of faith. They thought they knew where that journey would lead. They assumed it would lead them to a royal palace in Jerusalem. But God has a way of using the journeys we plan for ourselves, and turning them into something much different, much more profound. Instead of a new prince in a royal cot, the Magi's journey led them, mysteriously, to a cave in a rural back-water...and to a baby in an animal's food trough.
And it was when they got there, that the Magi could truly be described as wise men. Recognising Jesus for who he was, much more than an earthly King of the Jews, - they knelt in homage to him. Jesus, when they met him, was nothing like they expected. But they had the wisdom to recognise him, and to worship him. They had the wisdom to let their pre-conceptions of palaces and earthly royalty slip away; and let the new reality of Jesus take their place.
You see, wise men (and women) are open to what the Journey will bring. Wise men, and women, embrace the possibilities for change and growth which arise whenever we put our journey in the hands of God.
There is a sense in which we are embarking on a new journey today. Its a journey into a new year, and into a new decade. This is our first Sunday together of this New Year...so I wonder what the road ahead might look like for us. Do I dare to make a few predictions of my own?
We have plans! Tomorrow morning, all the clergy and parish wardens will be meeting with our PCC secretary to think about what the future might look like. We plan to bring our ideas to a parish conference at the end of this month - so that the whole parish can join in the task of shaping our future for the next five years. Our plans will include a few specific tasks that we want to get done. We will be sharing ideas like replacing the pews here in St Mark's and improving our insulation...you'll be glad to know. We'll be thinking about how to expand our Community Cafe and whether to record and album of choir music which might make good Christmas presents for next year!
But, much more important than getting things done, our five year plan is going to suggest some statements about the kind of church we want to be. Despite the manic over-working that often goes on in my house, I have always believed that God loves us much more for who we are than what we do. In other words - we sometimes rush around thinking that we are pleasing God with all our activity...forgetting that God's own words to us are words like "Be Still and know that I am God"...and "Consider the lilies of the field...they neither toil nor spin, and yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Take no thought for tomorrow - tomorrow will look after itself." (see Mt 6: 25-34).
Jesus taught us to seek first the Kingdom of God - and that everything else will fall into place around that. (Mt 6.33). So, as I say, our five year plan is going to focus on the kind of Christian Community we will strive to be. Here are some of the words that we are playing with at the moment...
First, we want to be a praying community. We are people who stand on the threshold between earth and heaven. Prayer is that threshold...its the glue which binds our spiritual and practical lives together. Through prayer, we have the opportunity to draw directly from the Well of Life, before going out into the world to quench the thirst of others. So, I'm going to argue that we must, first and foremost, be a praying church.
Secondly, we want to be a learning church. God created us in his image - and part of that image is our capacity to learn and grow. So, I'm going to be arguing that we need more opportunities to explore the Scriptures together - more chances to learn from the wisdom of the ancients that we have inherited. You know, one of the greatest frustrations for the average Vicar is that the only learning that most congregations do is in the few minutes allowed on a Sunday morning for the average sermon. And for those who can't make it to church more than once a month - that means about 10 minutes a month learning about God. I want to change that ratio...I want us to become people who are serious about what it means to learn the things of God.
Thirdly, we want to be a serving church. We follow a Master who washed his own disciples' feet: and following him means being a servant to one another, and to the world that he loves around us. Whether we serve the world through the provision of excellent worship, or through providing meeting halls or a community cafe - we are called into service.
Fourthly, we want to be a visible church. Our three church buildings are one of our greatest assets - they provide a visible reminder of the things of God to the 20,000 people who live in our parish. They are a sacred space in the middle of normal life. They also provide a base from which we can serve the community around us. So I am arguing that we need to make the maintenance of our buildings one of our top priorities - and to look for ways to make our buildings more accessible to the world at large.
Fifthly, we want to be a multiplex church. I know I've talked about this before - but for those of you who don't get the metaphor, let me put it like this. You know what it's like when you go to a modern multiplex cinema. In front of you are a whole range of different movies that you can choose from. Which movie you chose will depend on a whole range of factors - what mood you are in, who you are with, what you have enjoyed before. Worship is rather like that. Some people need to experience worship in lots of different formats before they find the one that really helps them on their journey. I am arguing that we must strive to provide those different ways of encountering God...as an act of service to our community.
Finally - we want to be an all-inclusive church. We are arguing that there is no place in the church for categories of human beings. Men, women, black, white, young or old, parents or childless, able-bodied or differently-abled, gay or straight...the Bible teaches us that we are all one in Jesus. There is room for every human being in the church of Jesus Christ, and our challenge will be to live and act as if we truly believed that.
That's the list. Six characteristics that the Clergy and Parish Wardens are proposing to the rest of the parish. We want to be a church which prays, learns and serves; and which is visible, multiplex and all-inclusive. Those six principles are what we are proposing should act as a kind of star to guide us on our journey. Like the Magi, we should expect to be surprised by all that happens along the way. God is likely to turn-over our expectations, and take us into all sorts of new and exciting paths. But through these six principles - we aim to give the journey a shape...a basic map that we will be able to follow together.
It promises to be an exciting year...an and exciting decade with God. I pray that you are ready to begin the journey!
Amen.
I suppose that many of us will have been on journeys over the last couple of weeks. Some of us have braved snow and ice, wind and rain to visit family and friends in far-flung corners of the British Isles.
I wonder whether some of you, like me, have wondered whose clever idea it was to put Christmas in the middle of winter! I mean - wouldn't it make a lot more sense to have Christmas in the summer...like the Australians do. Then we would be able to meet up with family and friends on the beach, or in our gardens - with lots of space for people to sit, and room for the kids to run about. But instead, we go on mammoth journeys, in the heart of the coldest months, to squash ourselves in Auntie Nellie's front room, six to a sofa, and try to catch up with one another over the excited squeaking of small people opening presents!
But I digress. My real point was that many of us will have made journeys over these last two weeks. Not, I suppose as arduous as the journeys made by the Wise Men to Bethlehem, but journeys none the less.
We don't know much about the Wise Men. The Bible calls them 'Magi', from which we get our word 'magician' - but that's not the full meaning of the word. The Magi were, as far as we can tell, learned men from another culture. They studied the stars, and no doubt studied the ancient texts of many religions too. They put that knowledge together came to the startling conclusion that a new King of the Jews was being born.
Actually, they were wrong. Jesus never was the King of Jews...despite the ironic poster that Pontius Pilate had nailed over his Cross. He was never proclaimed as King by more than a crowd in Jerusalem on Palm Sunday - who quickly changed their minds when they realised that he was no war-lord. He was never legally anointed as King, unless you count the anointing with perfume by an un-named woman in Bethany. To become a King - the sort of King that the Magi were expecting to find at the Palace in Jerusalem - you would have to have been born to a royal father, or to have conquered a country by war. Neither of these things happened to Jesus. In fact, according to John's Gospel, when Pilate asked him point blank whether he was the King of the Jews, Jesus replied "My Kingdom is not of this world". No, the Magi were wrong. The stars were not predicting the birth of the King of the Jews.
Another accident of the Magi was in their timing. After Herod had learned from them that a new King had supposedly been born in Bethlehem, he ordered the slaughter of all boys in Bethlehem under two years old. Matthew records the figure of two years as being 'in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi'.(Mt 2:16)
So, the Magi were perhaps not all that wise. They failed to correctly predict the birth of a new King of the Jews - and they were two years adrift even of Jesus birth. Wise men? Perhaps not.
So, to those who say that our future can be read in the stars, there is a warning here. The stars do not foretell our future, anymore than they did for the Magi. We would be wise not to place our future in the hands of star-gazers too.
And yet...and yet...
The Magi embarked on a journey of faith. They thought they knew where that journey would lead. They assumed it would lead them to a royal palace in Jerusalem. But God has a way of using the journeys we plan for ourselves, and turning them into something much different, much more profound. Instead of a new prince in a royal cot, the Magi's journey led them, mysteriously, to a cave in a rural back-water...and to a baby in an animal's food trough.
And it was when they got there, that the Magi could truly be described as wise men. Recognising Jesus for who he was, much more than an earthly King of the Jews, - they knelt in homage to him. Jesus, when they met him, was nothing like they expected. But they had the wisdom to recognise him, and to worship him. They had the wisdom to let their pre-conceptions of palaces and earthly royalty slip away; and let the new reality of Jesus take their place.
You see, wise men (and women) are open to what the Journey will bring. Wise men, and women, embrace the possibilities for change and growth which arise whenever we put our journey in the hands of God.
There is a sense in which we are embarking on a new journey today. Its a journey into a new year, and into a new decade. This is our first Sunday together of this New Year...so I wonder what the road ahead might look like for us. Do I dare to make a few predictions of my own?
We have plans! Tomorrow morning, all the clergy and parish wardens will be meeting with our PCC secretary to think about what the future might look like. We plan to bring our ideas to a parish conference at the end of this month - so that the whole parish can join in the task of shaping our future for the next five years. Our plans will include a few specific tasks that we want to get done. We will be sharing ideas like replacing the pews here in St Mark's and improving our insulation...you'll be glad to know. We'll be thinking about how to expand our Community Cafe and whether to record and album of choir music which might make good Christmas presents for next year!
But, much more important than getting things done, our five year plan is going to suggest some statements about the kind of church we want to be. Despite the manic over-working that often goes on in my house, I have always believed that God loves us much more for who we are than what we do. In other words - we sometimes rush around thinking that we are pleasing God with all our activity...forgetting that God's own words to us are words like "Be Still and know that I am God"...and "Consider the lilies of the field...they neither toil nor spin, and yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Take no thought for tomorrow - tomorrow will look after itself." (see Mt 6: 25-34).
Jesus taught us to seek first the Kingdom of God - and that everything else will fall into place around that. (Mt 6.33). So, as I say, our five year plan is going to focus on the kind of Christian Community we will strive to be. Here are some of the words that we are playing with at the moment...
First, we want to be a praying community. We are people who stand on the threshold between earth and heaven. Prayer is that threshold...its the glue which binds our spiritual and practical lives together. Through prayer, we have the opportunity to draw directly from the Well of Life, before going out into the world to quench the thirst of others. So, I'm going to argue that we must, first and foremost, be a praying church.
Secondly, we want to be a learning church. God created us in his image - and part of that image is our capacity to learn and grow. So, I'm going to be arguing that we need more opportunities to explore the Scriptures together - more chances to learn from the wisdom of the ancients that we have inherited. You know, one of the greatest frustrations for the average Vicar is that the only learning that most congregations do is in the few minutes allowed on a Sunday morning for the average sermon. And for those who can't make it to church more than once a month - that means about 10 minutes a month learning about God. I want to change that ratio...I want us to become people who are serious about what it means to learn the things of God.
Thirdly, we want to be a serving church. We follow a Master who washed his own disciples' feet: and following him means being a servant to one another, and to the world that he loves around us. Whether we serve the world through the provision of excellent worship, or through providing meeting halls or a community cafe - we are called into service.
Fourthly, we want to be a visible church. Our three church buildings are one of our greatest assets - they provide a visible reminder of the things of God to the 20,000 people who live in our parish. They are a sacred space in the middle of normal life. They also provide a base from which we can serve the community around us. So I am arguing that we need to make the maintenance of our buildings one of our top priorities - and to look for ways to make our buildings more accessible to the world at large.
Fifthly, we want to be a multiplex church. I know I've talked about this before - but for those of you who don't get the metaphor, let me put it like this. You know what it's like when you go to a modern multiplex cinema. In front of you are a whole range of different movies that you can choose from. Which movie you chose will depend on a whole range of factors - what mood you are in, who you are with, what you have enjoyed before. Worship is rather like that. Some people need to experience worship in lots of different formats before they find the one that really helps them on their journey. I am arguing that we must strive to provide those different ways of encountering God...as an act of service to our community.
Finally - we want to be an all-inclusive church. We are arguing that there is no place in the church for categories of human beings. Men, women, black, white, young or old, parents or childless, able-bodied or differently-abled, gay or straight...the Bible teaches us that we are all one in Jesus. There is room for every human being in the church of Jesus Christ, and our challenge will be to live and act as if we truly believed that.
That's the list. Six characteristics that the Clergy and Parish Wardens are proposing to the rest of the parish. We want to be a church which prays, learns and serves; and which is visible, multiplex and all-inclusive. Those six principles are what we are proposing should act as a kind of star to guide us on our journey. Like the Magi, we should expect to be surprised by all that happens along the way. God is likely to turn-over our expectations, and take us into all sorts of new and exciting paths. But through these six principles - we aim to give the journey a shape...a basic map that we will be able to follow together.
It promises to be an exciting year...an and exciting decade with God. I pray that you are ready to begin the journey!
Amen.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
The Lord Who Comes
Luke 21
A sermon for the First Sunday of Advent 2009. Preached at St Mark and St Nicholas Churches.
So...26 shopping days left until Christmas...assuming, that is, that you now shop on a Sunday, like the rest of Britain! Isn't it frightening how quickly Advent has come round again?
I don't know about you, but as I get older I find that each year seems to go by more quickly than the last. After the warm days of summer, suddenly we find ourselves plunged into Halloween, Bonfire Night, and then the mad dash towards Christmas. It's that time of year when we all begin to fret. Who am I going to buy presents for? Have I bought my Christmas cards? When should I put the decorations up? Who is making the Christmas cake this year?
Frankly, for me, its all just a little tedious. The same questions come up, year after year. Shall I do something really radical this year? Shall resist the pressure to buy trinkets for family members - people who have more possessions than anyone in history has ever had? Should I give money to charity instead, in their name? Who are we going to stay with this year...or who is going to stay with us? My parents, or Clare's? Or maybe there's a way to do both?
But this annual Christmas Crisis is only a graphic example of the same kinds of questions that plague me all year. There is a rhythm to life in general, isn't there...a sort of inevitability about when certain things will happen. There's a rhythm to each day - a rhythm of getting up, going to work (or school, or the day centre, or whatever each of us does every day). We finish our day, we collapse in a chair, watch some TV, go to bed...and then do it all over again. It's pretty terrifying, when you think about it. We have created a society in which people have to go out to work for six days a week - just to afford the vast cost of a house that they use only to collapse in at night.
For some of us, there's a comfort in that kind of rhythm. It is possible to go through the rhythm of life without ever really waking up. What did I do yesterday? What about the day before? Does every day look pretty much the same? Every season? Every year?
There's a rhythm about history in general, too. The world turns. Fishermen, fish. Farmers, farm. Politicians talk. Armies fight. Teachers teach. Banker's bank. And the world continues to turn.
In the face of such rhythm, in the face of such tedium...it is hardly surprising that people hope for change. It's a theme that has impregnated human thinking for millennia. There's a film out at the moment called 2012 - based on an obscure prediction from the Mayan Indians that next year will see the end of the world. There's is not the first such prediction, as we well know.
In the year 1000, the people of Europe got themselves into a fine old tizzy, thinking that the end of the world would surely come at the dawning of a new millennium. In the 1500, the same thing happened. As the second millennium drew to a close, all sorts of crackpots started to predict the end of the world. Christian and Jewish fundamentalists started plans to rebuild the Jerusalem Temple. The Jehovah's Witnesses predicted that 1914 would be the end of the world. People stood on mountain tops, or hid in caves as the millennium approach...following strange, charismatic leaders who promised them a new world, a second coming, or the end of all things.
But nothing happened. The world continued to turn. Farmers still farmed. Politicians still talked.
So what are we to make of today's Gospel reading? Time and time again rumours of the end of the world have turned out to be false...so how shall we read this text in front of us? The passage we've heard is actually part of a rather longer passage in which Jesus says "Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be great earthquakes, famines and pestilences in various places, and fearful events and great signs from heaven." (Luke 21:10-11). It sounds just like our world, doesn't it?
But then, if you asked people from any decade in the last 2000 years, they would say that it sounds like their world too.
Jesus himself warns us to be careful of all predictions of the end of the world. In verse 8 of this same chapter he says "Watch out that you are not deceived. For many will come in my name, claiming, 'I am he,' and, 'The time is near.' Do not follow them. When you hear of wars and revolutions, do not be frightened. These things must happen first, but the end will not come then."
So, there's a clear warning from Scripture that we should not try to predict the end of the world. But there's also a puzzling line from Jesus in this complex passage: Verse 32: "I tell you the truth, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened."
What?! There's no getting around this. Jesus is recorded, by Luke, as having said that the Son of Man will come before the generation in which he was living was still alive. "This generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened". Puzzling isn't it.
Perhaps Luke was slightly over-egging the Christmas pudding! Perhaps because he was writing to a group of Christians who were under persecution and hatred for their faith. Perhaps he used a little artistic license to offer them some hope. Perhaps these are words which have less of Jesus, and more of Luke about them?
Some scholars suggest that the word 'generation' should be understood as 'race' - so that Jesus was saying that the Jewish race would not pass away before the Son of Man comes. That would give a rather longer timescale on events.
Or perhaps, Jesus really did say 'generation'. Perhaps he really meant it. If so we are invited to think what his words meant...and what they still mean. For us.
If Jesus really said what he meant, then we are forced into a rather different conclusion. We are forced to consider that the Son of Man has already come for the second time.
Let's think about what happened next in the story of Jesus.
Resurrection and Pentecost.
Jesus, having been killed, rises from the dead. After he leaves for heaven, re-inhabiting the All from which he came, he sends his Spirit to 'lead his followers into all truth'; to show them The Way, to fill them with 'power from on high'.
So perhaps Jesus, through Luke, means us to understand that the second coming of the Messiah is not one massive event - but instead, a series of much smaller events. Perhaps Jesus has come, and perhaps Jesus comes, and perhaps Jesus is coming.
For, without doubt, Jesus comes every time people refuse to give in to the pressure to do evil, and start to do good. Jesus comes every time that the hungry are fed, or every time that peace breaks out. Jesus comes every time one of us says 'no' to the tedium of human rituals and rhythms, and embraces the creativity that God put in our heart. Jesus comes every time one of us steps aside from dull routine, and does something which shines the light of God into our community.
In other words, Jesus comes every time that we offer ourselves, as Jesus off himself, for the service of others. Jesus comes when we serve others in the Parish Community Cafe. Jesus comes when we visit the housebound or the sick. Jesus comes when we do the job we've been given with all the creativity we are capable of. Jesus comes when we give, sacrificially, for the work of God. Jesus comes when we collaborate with others in the essential task of running his church...sitting on committees, cleaning and maintaining - keeping the rumour of God alive in this community. Jesus comes when we reach out to the stranger, or to the prisoner. Jesus comes when we love our families, and serve each other in our homes. Jesus comes when we embrace all that is creative and loving and life-affirming.
So then - we don't wait, cowering in some cave, or sitting on some mountain, hoping to see the Son of Man arriving on a cloud. Instead, we look for where Jesus is already come, and where he is already coming. We look for signs of his Life and Light among us, and we embrace them. We listen for his knock, and we open the doors of our heart.
If we can truly grasp what it means to serve a God who came among us, and who comes among us, and who will come among us...perhaps Advent and Christmas, and the rhythm of the year and the sometimes tedious rhythm of life can be infused with fresh meaning for us. Perhaps we can look expectantly towards the heavens of our hearts - and joyfully embrace the Lord who Comes.
Even so, Come Lord Jesus. Maranatha.
Amen
A sermon for the First Sunday of Advent 2009. Preached at St Mark and St Nicholas Churches.
So...26 shopping days left until Christmas...assuming, that is, that you now shop on a Sunday, like the rest of Britain! Isn't it frightening how quickly Advent has come round again?
I don't know about you, but as I get older I find that each year seems to go by more quickly than the last. After the warm days of summer, suddenly we find ourselves plunged into Halloween, Bonfire Night, and then the mad dash towards Christmas. It's that time of year when we all begin to fret. Who am I going to buy presents for? Have I bought my Christmas cards? When should I put the decorations up? Who is making the Christmas cake this year?
Frankly, for me, its all just a little tedious. The same questions come up, year after year. Shall I do something really radical this year? Shall resist the pressure to buy trinkets for family members - people who have more possessions than anyone in history has ever had? Should I give money to charity instead, in their name? Who are we going to stay with this year...or who is going to stay with us? My parents, or Clare's? Or maybe there's a way to do both?
But this annual Christmas Crisis is only a graphic example of the same kinds of questions that plague me all year. There is a rhythm to life in general, isn't there...a sort of inevitability about when certain things will happen. There's a rhythm to each day - a rhythm of getting up, going to work (or school, or the day centre, or whatever each of us does every day). We finish our day, we collapse in a chair, watch some TV, go to bed...and then do it all over again. It's pretty terrifying, when you think about it. We have created a society in which people have to go out to work for six days a week - just to afford the vast cost of a house that they use only to collapse in at night.
For some of us, there's a comfort in that kind of rhythm. It is possible to go through the rhythm of life without ever really waking up. What did I do yesterday? What about the day before? Does every day look pretty much the same? Every season? Every year?
There's a rhythm about history in general, too. The world turns. Fishermen, fish. Farmers, farm. Politicians talk. Armies fight. Teachers teach. Banker's bank. And the world continues to turn.
In the face of such rhythm, in the face of such tedium...it is hardly surprising that people hope for change. It's a theme that has impregnated human thinking for millennia. There's a film out at the moment called 2012 - based on an obscure prediction from the Mayan Indians that next year will see the end of the world. There's is not the first such prediction, as we well know.
In the year 1000, the people of Europe got themselves into a fine old tizzy, thinking that the end of the world would surely come at the dawning of a new millennium. In the 1500, the same thing happened. As the second millennium drew to a close, all sorts of crackpots started to predict the end of the world. Christian and Jewish fundamentalists started plans to rebuild the Jerusalem Temple. The Jehovah's Witnesses predicted that 1914 would be the end of the world. People stood on mountain tops, or hid in caves as the millennium approach...following strange, charismatic leaders who promised them a new world, a second coming, or the end of all things.
But nothing happened. The world continued to turn. Farmers still farmed. Politicians still talked.
So what are we to make of today's Gospel reading? Time and time again rumours of the end of the world have turned out to be false...so how shall we read this text in front of us? The passage we've heard is actually part of a rather longer passage in which Jesus says "Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be great earthquakes, famines and pestilences in various places, and fearful events and great signs from heaven." (Luke 21:10-11). It sounds just like our world, doesn't it?
But then, if you asked people from any decade in the last 2000 years, they would say that it sounds like their world too.
Jesus himself warns us to be careful of all predictions of the end of the world. In verse 8 of this same chapter he says "Watch out that you are not deceived. For many will come in my name, claiming, 'I am he,' and, 'The time is near.' Do not follow them. When you hear of wars and revolutions, do not be frightened. These things must happen first, but the end will not come then."
So, there's a clear warning from Scripture that we should not try to predict the end of the world. But there's also a puzzling line from Jesus in this complex passage: Verse 32: "I tell you the truth, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened."
What?! There's no getting around this. Jesus is recorded, by Luke, as having said that the Son of Man will come before the generation in which he was living was still alive. "This generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened". Puzzling isn't it.
Perhaps Luke was slightly over-egging the Christmas pudding! Perhaps because he was writing to a group of Christians who were under persecution and hatred for their faith. Perhaps he used a little artistic license to offer them some hope. Perhaps these are words which have less of Jesus, and more of Luke about them?
Some scholars suggest that the word 'generation' should be understood as 'race' - so that Jesus was saying that the Jewish race would not pass away before the Son of Man comes. That would give a rather longer timescale on events.
Or perhaps, Jesus really did say 'generation'. Perhaps he really meant it. If so we are invited to think what his words meant...and what they still mean. For us.
If Jesus really said what he meant, then we are forced into a rather different conclusion. We are forced to consider that the Son of Man has already come for the second time.
Let's think about what happened next in the story of Jesus.
Resurrection and Pentecost.
Jesus, having been killed, rises from the dead. After he leaves for heaven, re-inhabiting the All from which he came, he sends his Spirit to 'lead his followers into all truth'; to show them The Way, to fill them with 'power from on high'.
So perhaps Jesus, through Luke, means us to understand that the second coming of the Messiah is not one massive event - but instead, a series of much smaller events. Perhaps Jesus has come, and perhaps Jesus comes, and perhaps Jesus is coming.
For, without doubt, Jesus comes every time people refuse to give in to the pressure to do evil, and start to do good. Jesus comes every time that the hungry are fed, or every time that peace breaks out. Jesus comes every time one of us says 'no' to the tedium of human rituals and rhythms, and embraces the creativity that God put in our heart. Jesus comes every time one of us steps aside from dull routine, and does something which shines the light of God into our community.
In other words, Jesus comes every time that we offer ourselves, as Jesus off himself, for the service of others. Jesus comes when we serve others in the Parish Community Cafe. Jesus comes when we visit the housebound or the sick. Jesus comes when we do the job we've been given with all the creativity we are capable of. Jesus comes when we give, sacrificially, for the work of God. Jesus comes when we collaborate with others in the essential task of running his church...sitting on committees, cleaning and maintaining - keeping the rumour of God alive in this community. Jesus comes when we reach out to the stranger, or to the prisoner. Jesus comes when we love our families, and serve each other in our homes. Jesus comes when we embrace all that is creative and loving and life-affirming.
So then - we don't wait, cowering in some cave, or sitting on some mountain, hoping to see the Son of Man arriving on a cloud. Instead, we look for where Jesus is already come, and where he is already coming. We look for signs of his Life and Light among us, and we embrace them. We listen for his knock, and we open the doors of our heart.
If we can truly grasp what it means to serve a God who came among us, and who comes among us, and who will come among us...perhaps Advent and Christmas, and the rhythm of the year and the sometimes tedious rhythm of life can be infused with fresh meaning for us. Perhaps we can look expectantly towards the heavens of our hearts - and joyfully embrace the Lord who Comes.
Even so, Come Lord Jesus. Maranatha.
Amen
Friday, November 6, 2009
The Hero's Call - A Sermon for Remembrance Day
Mark 1: 14-18
(Also preached on Sunday morning at St Mark's)
So...there you are, at home. You're maybe digging the garden. Or preparing the dinner. Or perhaps you're mending your fishing rod for a day on the river...and there comes a knock at the door. On the doorstep is a wandering preacher, who looks straight into your soul and says "Come. Follow me".
What do you do? You've got a family who are relying on you. You've got responsibilities to them, and to your neighbours. You've got an employer who is expecting you to be at work...or a teacher who expects you in class. But there's something about this preacher. There's something inspiring about him.
Of course, you know something about him already. You've heard some of his teachings, and you've heard the rumour that he's out and about looking for followers. But you never expected that he would knock on your door.
So what do you do? Should you simply follow him out of the door? Should you step out on a new adventure...and let all your other responsibilities take care of themselves? Or should you shut the door in the preacher's face?
What do you do?
But you've been intrigued by this preacher's message. You've already heard him, talking about how the 'Kingdom of God'...the new government of God...is coming. You've heard him calling people to turn away from society's normal ways of doing things. You've heard him saying that people need to 'repent'...to turn away...and to believe that there is good news.
But that's hard, isn't it? Good news. Hmm. Good news for whom? The last time you heard the phrase 'Good News' was when a bunch of soldiers rode through the town. They were proclaiming that there was 'good news' about the Emperor, Caesar. Apparently - according to the soldiers - Caesar had declared himself to be the Lord of Lords and the King of Kings...and this was 'good news'. Apparently. According to the soldiers, 'there is no other name by which people can be saved than the name of Caesar'. Considering the amount of taxes you are having to pay to Caesar, and considering the number of soldiers all over the countryside, it doesn't feel much like good news to you.
But this wandering preacher - this Jesus-bloke - he's talking about another kind of good news altogether. Or at least that's what you've been hearing. Apparently, his good news is good news for the poor. And for those who are mourning. And for those who are pure in heart. And for those who are peacemakers. That's a bit different than good news for Caesar, and for business-men and for weapon-makers...
Perhaps Jesus' good news...good news for the poor, and the oppressed, and the meek...perhaps that is worth following. Perhaps that is worth laying aside your family responsibilities for a while.
What do you do? Are you prepared to follow this call to 'Follow me'. Because that's what heroes do. Heroes throughout history are always given a call to follow. Sometimes they resist that call. Like Moses who resisted the call to lead the people out of slavery. Like Jonah who resisted the call to go and tell the people of Nineveh to repent.
Because calls are dangerous. Calls lead us out of our safe, secure lives into lives of adventure, possible danger, and even death. But isn't the case that the best journeys are the ones where there is adventure and challenge along the way?
That's a challenge that many soldiers have followed over the centuries. It's a challenge to stand up and fight for what you believe in. It's a challenge to leave family and home - and to become a peace-maker, often in a foreign land. It's a challenge that will certainly include adventure. It might well end in death.
But's it's a hero's call. It's a call to transform a society - perhaps through fighting, perhaps through diplomacy, perhaps through the transforming power of rendering aid and giving food to starving people. It's a call to stand up against powers of oppression that would seek to dominate an entire population...just like the Egyptians dominated the Israelites.
So what do you do?
Do you follow this preacher - this Jesus? You don't know where he might lead you. Perhaps he'll lead you on a path to destruction. Perhaps he's trying to put together a rebel army to over-throw the oppressive dictator's army. Or perhaps he's talking about another kind of kingdom altogether...a kingdom of God's rule, which God, and only God can ultimately establish.
And if you follow him on this path, and if you die, will anyone remember you? Will anyone sing laments for your passing? Or will you lie in an unmarked grave on some foreign battle-field?
Wouldn't it just be easier to stay at home. And go fishing tomorrow.
Wouldn't it be easier easier to just settle back in your comfortable chair, tend your garden, dandle your children on your knee, and pretend that everything's alright with the world. Wouldn't it be easier to never give your time, your energy, your skills, or your money to any other living soul?
Yes. It would be easier. But where's the adventure in that? Where's the challenge? Where's the growth? Where's the chance to be changed from glory into glory ever more like the image of God your Creator?
"Come. Follow me. And I will make you fish for people".
You hear the call. You know something of what it means. It's something about doing things differently. It's something about living differently...living for others, not for yourself. It's something about acquiring scars and wounds, instead of the latest stuff from the market. It's something about giving up home and family, and having nowhere to lay your head for the sake of a bigger vision, a better vision. A vision of a new kind of Kingdom.
You've heard the call.
What do you do?
What do you do?
What do you do?
___
Note: this sermon/meditation was immediately followed by an Act of Remembrance, including the customary two minutes silence in memory of those who have given their lives for our freedom.
(Also preached on Sunday morning at St Mark's)
So...there you are, at home. You're maybe digging the garden. Or preparing the dinner. Or perhaps you're mending your fishing rod for a day on the river...and there comes a knock at the door. On the doorstep is a wandering preacher, who looks straight into your soul and says "Come. Follow me".
What do you do? You've got a family who are relying on you. You've got responsibilities to them, and to your neighbours. You've got an employer who is expecting you to be at work...or a teacher who expects you in class. But there's something about this preacher. There's something inspiring about him.
Of course, you know something about him already. You've heard some of his teachings, and you've heard the rumour that he's out and about looking for followers. But you never expected that he would knock on your door.
So what do you do? Should you simply follow him out of the door? Should you step out on a new adventure...and let all your other responsibilities take care of themselves? Or should you shut the door in the preacher's face?
What do you do?
But you've been intrigued by this preacher's message. You've already heard him, talking about how the 'Kingdom of God'...the new government of God...is coming. You've heard him calling people to turn away from society's normal ways of doing things. You've heard him saying that people need to 'repent'...to turn away...and to believe that there is good news.
But that's hard, isn't it? Good news. Hmm. Good news for whom? The last time you heard the phrase 'Good News' was when a bunch of soldiers rode through the town. They were proclaiming that there was 'good news' about the Emperor, Caesar. Apparently - according to the soldiers - Caesar had declared himself to be the Lord of Lords and the King of Kings...and this was 'good news'. Apparently. According to the soldiers, 'there is no other name by which people can be saved than the name of Caesar'. Considering the amount of taxes you are having to pay to Caesar, and considering the number of soldiers all over the countryside, it doesn't feel much like good news to you.
But this wandering preacher - this Jesus-bloke - he's talking about another kind of good news altogether. Or at least that's what you've been hearing. Apparently, his good news is good news for the poor. And for those who are mourning. And for those who are pure in heart. And for those who are peacemakers. That's a bit different than good news for Caesar, and for business-men and for weapon-makers...
Perhaps Jesus' good news...good news for the poor, and the oppressed, and the meek...perhaps that is worth following. Perhaps that is worth laying aside your family responsibilities for a while.
What do you do? Are you prepared to follow this call to 'Follow me'. Because that's what heroes do. Heroes throughout history are always given a call to follow. Sometimes they resist that call. Like Moses who resisted the call to lead the people out of slavery. Like Jonah who resisted the call to go and tell the people of Nineveh to repent.
Because calls are dangerous. Calls lead us out of our safe, secure lives into lives of adventure, possible danger, and even death. But isn't the case that the best journeys are the ones where there is adventure and challenge along the way?
That's a challenge that many soldiers have followed over the centuries. It's a challenge to stand up and fight for what you believe in. It's a challenge to leave family and home - and to become a peace-maker, often in a foreign land. It's a challenge that will certainly include adventure. It might well end in death.
But's it's a hero's call. It's a call to transform a society - perhaps through fighting, perhaps through diplomacy, perhaps through the transforming power of rendering aid and giving food to starving people. It's a call to stand up against powers of oppression that would seek to dominate an entire population...just like the Egyptians dominated the Israelites.
So what do you do?
Do you follow this preacher - this Jesus? You don't know where he might lead you. Perhaps he'll lead you on a path to destruction. Perhaps he's trying to put together a rebel army to over-throw the oppressive dictator's army. Or perhaps he's talking about another kind of kingdom altogether...a kingdom of God's rule, which God, and only God can ultimately establish.
And if you follow him on this path, and if you die, will anyone remember you? Will anyone sing laments for your passing? Or will you lie in an unmarked grave on some foreign battle-field?
Wouldn't it just be easier to stay at home. And go fishing tomorrow.
Wouldn't it be easier easier to just settle back in your comfortable chair, tend your garden, dandle your children on your knee, and pretend that everything's alright with the world. Wouldn't it be easier to never give your time, your energy, your skills, or your money to any other living soul?
Yes. It would be easier. But where's the adventure in that? Where's the challenge? Where's the growth? Where's the chance to be changed from glory into glory ever more like the image of God your Creator?
"Come. Follow me. And I will make you fish for people".
You hear the call. You know something of what it means. It's something about doing things differently. It's something about living differently...living for others, not for yourself. It's something about acquiring scars and wounds, instead of the latest stuff from the market. It's something about giving up home and family, and having nowhere to lay your head for the sake of a bigger vision, a better vision. A vision of a new kind of Kingdom.
You've heard the call.
What do you do?
What do you do?
What do you do?
___
Note: this sermon/meditation was immediately followed by an Act of Remembrance, including the customary two minutes silence in memory of those who have given their lives for our freedom.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
The Dead are Raised!
Revelation 21.1-6 & John 11
Before we moved to Portsmouth, I wasn't much of a gardener. But when we moved into our new Rectory, the place had been vacant for a long time. As a result the garden was SO overgrown that we simply had to do something about it.
We started by having a series of bonfires, which I fear did little to endear us to our new neighbours. Great clouds of smoke billowed into the air all around North End...But we didn't have a choice! There was a huge pile of garden rubbish in one corner of the garden! It would have taken 30 or 40 car-loads to take it all to the tip! So for a few days, we were forced to fill the air with smoke...and fill our own lungs and eyes with the stuff as well!
But now, after a year of hard work in between parish duties, we have finally got the garden looking reasonably neat and tidy. This summer we've had some delicious veggies to munch on for free - and a blaze of colour in our flower borders. But now, as the winter nights draw in, we are experiencing something that every gardener experiences; after all that work, and all that planting and weeding and watering and tending...everything's dying! It's so infuriating! We do everything we can to prolong the season. We've got a green-house, thanks to a gift from my Mum and Dad, which enables us to grow tomatoes for a few more weeks. We keep the weeds at bay in the hope that a bit more light will help our plants to grow...but its all in vain. Everything's dying! Or perhaps more accurately - everything's moving into a new state of being. It's inevitable. Change is inevitable. Leaves drop from trees and flowers, and are then broken down to form nutrients for the next generation. Plants pull in their resources, hunkering down for the cold.
And that's true of all life isn't it? Eventually, everything and everyone dies - or, again, we should really say 'everything moves into a new state of being'.
The Bible's great Genesis Myth teaches us that we are made of dust. You and I are made up of billions and billions of particles of dust, or matter...molecules of elements like hydrogen, oxygen and carbon. For a number of decades, these particles of dust come together to make you and me, well, you and me. For the length of what we call our life-time, these molecules spontaneously start doing all sorts of things in co-operation with each other. They form our body, they process nutrients, they fire electrons at each other in our brain so that we can think. But then, for reasons that we are only beginning to understand, after an average of 7 or 8 decades...all those molecules, fairly suddenly, go off to be something else.
Everything changes.
Even our Sun, the physical source of all life on earth, will one day change to such an extent that it will no longer give it's life-giving heat and light to the Earth. One day the molecules which make up the Sun and the planets will gradually, or in the blaze of a Super-Nova, go off and be other things.
Everything changes.
Seasons come and go. Nations rise and fall. People live, and they die. This is part of the journey...the Journey of Life that some of us have been thinking about on Monday nights for the last couple of months. Life is, indeed, a journey. There will be changes in direction, challenges along the way. There will be trials and temptations - good times and bad. And all our journeys are reflected in the journeys that we read in the Bible.
Do you remember last week's sermon? I gather that some of you missed some portions of it, thanks to an apparently enormous spider which had threatened to eat some of the choir! So for those who missed it, let me just recap briefly! We were thinking about how the Bible contains story after story - and that each story is given to us so that we can read our own lives on those pages. As we read about the stories of Abraham and Moses and the Prophets and Jesus and Paul and Peter - we are invited to make connections with our own lives. As we read stories of trials and temptations, we are invited to think about our own trials and temptations. How have others handled these things? How should we? As we read about the conflicts and the peace-making of others, we are invited to think about our own conflicts and peace-making. How have others handled these things? How might we? When we read about the death of great people, which is somehow, again and again turned into triumph...we are invited to think about our daily deaths and resurrections.
As we read about the constant change and variability of life as others have lived it, we are reminded of that wonderful hymn, sung at many funeral services..."Change and decay in all around I see". But then comes the surprise. "Thou Changest Not O Lord, Abide in me"
In all of human experience, in all the changing scenes of life, the one thing we have discovered which never changes - is God. The writer to the Hebrews taught us that: 'Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today and forever." (Heb 13.8). This is wisdom from above - handed on to us from previous generations. This is the notion that whatever happens to us, to our planet, to our bodies, there is a Great Spirit, a Great Consciousness, a Great God who remains unchanged...holding it all together. The Great Myth of Genesis describes a God who breathes life into his creation - and, as in that other old song, 'holds the whole world in his hands'.
But not only does God hold our lives in his hands...he holds our deaths as well. "Listen," says St Paul, "I will tell you a secret. We will not all sleep. We will all be changed. In a flash. In the twinkling of an eye. At the sound of the Last Trumpet. For the Trumpet shall sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will all be changed." (1 Cor. 15. 51-52)
It is not just life that is full of change then. Not just our gardens. But also our lives after death. The reading from the book of Revelation that we just heard reminded us that our lives after death contain even more change - but glorious change. "Now the dwelling place of God is with people, and he will live with them...He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away" (Rev. 21.3-4 edited)
The Bible then presents us with a picture of change and transformation all through its pages. There's the change of dust particles, molecules and matter, into human beings - infused with God's own breath of life. There's the changes of life - the ups and downs, the joys and the sorrows, the little deaths and little resurrections, all taking place in the loving gaze and concern of our unchanging Heavenly Parent. And then, after death, the change continues. We are, in Paul's phrase, changed from glory into glory (2 Cor 3.18) in this world and in the next as we draw closer to God. St Paul talks about that drawing closer as being like the drawing aside of a veil, or a curtain. As the curtain is removed - like the curtain in the temple was removed at the death of Jesus - we have the capacity to draw near to God, to be able to gaze upon God's face, and to be transformed more and more into his likeness. We who are made in the image of God have the capacity, and the invitation, to change so that we become like God's self.
That's an amazing thought, when you ponder it for a moment. Jesus himself reminded those around him that the Hebrew Bible teaches that we human beings can be called "gods" - with a small 'g'.(See John 10.34 for the reference). In other words, we who start our lives as clumps of molecules, bound together by the breath of God, have the capacity to change and grow - to be changed from one degree of glory into another - so that we become kinds of gods. What are gods? They are immortal beings. That's what you are I are...according to the Scriptures...immortal beings! Because of the gift of life given to us by the greatest, unchanging, Immortal Being of them all. God does not change...but God draws us, by a process of change, deeper and deeper into God's own self. He changes us from clumps of molecules into gods!
That deserves a 'Halleluiah!' doesn't it?!
And that, my brothers and sisters, is what we believe is happening right now to those we have lost in this changing world - those who have gone before us into the Great Adventure - the life after death. We don't know what is happening precisely to each of them - because we can't know, really know, about a process that we can't yet experience. But from our own lives, from our own observation that to change is to grow, we can be sure that our loved ones - the souls who from their labours rest - they too continue to grow...being drawn ever deeper into the heart of the Divine Spirit who made us all.
And so, today we pray for them. But we pray not out of fear of a vengeful God who is looking for reasons to get tough with our loved ones. Instead, we join with all the company of heaven, with Angels and Archangels and say 'Holy, holy, holy'. We pray with joy...thanking God for the lives of our loved ones among us, but also glad that they are now even closer to the heart of God than us. We give thanks that they live in the midst of inexpressible joy, and that they are even now being made into gods by our loving Heavenly Parent.
Is there room for doubt? Is there a possibility that some of those who die do not, ultimately end up transformed into gods? Perhaps. The Bible certainly points to the idea that it is possible for someone to be so self-centred, so wrapped up in themselves, so closed to the possibility of a life transformed by God, that they may consign themselves to oblivion. As C.S.Lewis said so eloquently, 'the doors of hell are locked on the inside'.
I've lost a bit of weight recently - nearly 4 stone actually. So I'm feeling rather chuffed with myself. But if I gave up eating altogether, then I would eventually die. The tragedy of life is that there are some who give up feeding spiritually from God altogether. They never open themselves to love, to companionship, to acts of kindness, to family, to generosity...let alone to the idea of belonging to a church. Such people, the Bible suggests, the people who never raise a finger to the sick, or the poor, or the oppressed...such people's hearts have become like rocks. Rocks don't change very easily. It's hard for a rock to be changed into a god. It's not impossible. But its hard. And some, perhaps never make it.
But ask yourself this about your own loved ones. Did they know any goodness in their life? Did they know what it meant to love and to be loved? Then how could they possibly resist the love of God when they encounter it? How could they want to do anything more than accept God's free gift of life, in heavenly City where there is no more mourning or crying or pain? If you sometimes doubt where your loved ones have gone - hold on to that thought. Did your loved-one respond to love on earth? Then how much more will they respond to Love in heaven! Or in Jesus' words: "which of you if your child asked for bread would give him a stone? How much more then will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask for them" (See Mt 7.9ff)
Jesus raised Lazurus from the dead. Jesus reversed the normal process of decay that follows death - showing that God, who changes not, can yet bring about enormous change. God who changes not change us. It’s glorious change. It's change that we should welcome, look forward to, anticipate, and begin to embrace today. We who have been born again by the Spirit of God are on the glorious, ever-changing Journey of Life.
And it’s change that I promise I'll think about differently the next time that I moan about my garden.
Amen
Before we moved to Portsmouth, I wasn't much of a gardener. But when we moved into our new Rectory, the place had been vacant for a long time. As a result the garden was SO overgrown that we simply had to do something about it.
We started by having a series of bonfires, which I fear did little to endear us to our new neighbours. Great clouds of smoke billowed into the air all around North End...But we didn't have a choice! There was a huge pile of garden rubbish in one corner of the garden! It would have taken 30 or 40 car-loads to take it all to the tip! So for a few days, we were forced to fill the air with smoke...and fill our own lungs and eyes with the stuff as well!
But now, after a year of hard work in between parish duties, we have finally got the garden looking reasonably neat and tidy. This summer we've had some delicious veggies to munch on for free - and a blaze of colour in our flower borders. But now, as the winter nights draw in, we are experiencing something that every gardener experiences; after all that work, and all that planting and weeding and watering and tending...everything's dying! It's so infuriating! We do everything we can to prolong the season. We've got a green-house, thanks to a gift from my Mum and Dad, which enables us to grow tomatoes for a few more weeks. We keep the weeds at bay in the hope that a bit more light will help our plants to grow...but its all in vain. Everything's dying! Or perhaps more accurately - everything's moving into a new state of being. It's inevitable. Change is inevitable. Leaves drop from trees and flowers, and are then broken down to form nutrients for the next generation. Plants pull in their resources, hunkering down for the cold.
And that's true of all life isn't it? Eventually, everything and everyone dies - or, again, we should really say 'everything moves into a new state of being'.
The Bible's great Genesis Myth teaches us that we are made of dust. You and I are made up of billions and billions of particles of dust, or matter...molecules of elements like hydrogen, oxygen and carbon. For a number of decades, these particles of dust come together to make you and me, well, you and me. For the length of what we call our life-time, these molecules spontaneously start doing all sorts of things in co-operation with each other. They form our body, they process nutrients, they fire electrons at each other in our brain so that we can think. But then, for reasons that we are only beginning to understand, after an average of 7 or 8 decades...all those molecules, fairly suddenly, go off to be something else.
Everything changes.
Even our Sun, the physical source of all life on earth, will one day change to such an extent that it will no longer give it's life-giving heat and light to the Earth. One day the molecules which make up the Sun and the planets will gradually, or in the blaze of a Super-Nova, go off and be other things.
Everything changes.
Seasons come and go. Nations rise and fall. People live, and they die. This is part of the journey...the Journey of Life that some of us have been thinking about on Monday nights for the last couple of months. Life is, indeed, a journey. There will be changes in direction, challenges along the way. There will be trials and temptations - good times and bad. And all our journeys are reflected in the journeys that we read in the Bible.
Do you remember last week's sermon? I gather that some of you missed some portions of it, thanks to an apparently enormous spider which had threatened to eat some of the choir! So for those who missed it, let me just recap briefly! We were thinking about how the Bible contains story after story - and that each story is given to us so that we can read our own lives on those pages. As we read about the stories of Abraham and Moses and the Prophets and Jesus and Paul and Peter - we are invited to make connections with our own lives. As we read stories of trials and temptations, we are invited to think about our own trials and temptations. How have others handled these things? How should we? As we read about the conflicts and the peace-making of others, we are invited to think about our own conflicts and peace-making. How have others handled these things? How might we? When we read about the death of great people, which is somehow, again and again turned into triumph...we are invited to think about our daily deaths and resurrections.
As we read about the constant change and variability of life as others have lived it, we are reminded of that wonderful hymn, sung at many funeral services..."Change and decay in all around I see". But then comes the surprise. "Thou Changest Not O Lord, Abide in me"
In all of human experience, in all the changing scenes of life, the one thing we have discovered which never changes - is God. The writer to the Hebrews taught us that: 'Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today and forever." (Heb 13.8). This is wisdom from above - handed on to us from previous generations. This is the notion that whatever happens to us, to our planet, to our bodies, there is a Great Spirit, a Great Consciousness, a Great God who remains unchanged...holding it all together. The Great Myth of Genesis describes a God who breathes life into his creation - and, as in that other old song, 'holds the whole world in his hands'.
But not only does God hold our lives in his hands...he holds our deaths as well. "Listen," says St Paul, "I will tell you a secret. We will not all sleep. We will all be changed. In a flash. In the twinkling of an eye. At the sound of the Last Trumpet. For the Trumpet shall sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will all be changed." (1 Cor. 15. 51-52)
It is not just life that is full of change then. Not just our gardens. But also our lives after death. The reading from the book of Revelation that we just heard reminded us that our lives after death contain even more change - but glorious change. "Now the dwelling place of God is with people, and he will live with them...He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away" (Rev. 21.3-4 edited)
The Bible then presents us with a picture of change and transformation all through its pages. There's the change of dust particles, molecules and matter, into human beings - infused with God's own breath of life. There's the changes of life - the ups and downs, the joys and the sorrows, the little deaths and little resurrections, all taking place in the loving gaze and concern of our unchanging Heavenly Parent. And then, after death, the change continues. We are, in Paul's phrase, changed from glory into glory (2 Cor 3.18) in this world and in the next as we draw closer to God. St Paul talks about that drawing closer as being like the drawing aside of a veil, or a curtain. As the curtain is removed - like the curtain in the temple was removed at the death of Jesus - we have the capacity to draw near to God, to be able to gaze upon God's face, and to be transformed more and more into his likeness. We who are made in the image of God have the capacity, and the invitation, to change so that we become like God's self.
That's an amazing thought, when you ponder it for a moment. Jesus himself reminded those around him that the Hebrew Bible teaches that we human beings can be called "gods" - with a small 'g'.(See John 10.34 for the reference). In other words, we who start our lives as clumps of molecules, bound together by the breath of God, have the capacity to change and grow - to be changed from one degree of glory into another - so that we become kinds of gods. What are gods? They are immortal beings. That's what you are I are...according to the Scriptures...immortal beings! Because of the gift of life given to us by the greatest, unchanging, Immortal Being of them all. God does not change...but God draws us, by a process of change, deeper and deeper into God's own self. He changes us from clumps of molecules into gods!
That deserves a 'Halleluiah!' doesn't it?!
And that, my brothers and sisters, is what we believe is happening right now to those we have lost in this changing world - those who have gone before us into the Great Adventure - the life after death. We don't know what is happening precisely to each of them - because we can't know, really know, about a process that we can't yet experience. But from our own lives, from our own observation that to change is to grow, we can be sure that our loved ones - the souls who from their labours rest - they too continue to grow...being drawn ever deeper into the heart of the Divine Spirit who made us all.
And so, today we pray for them. But we pray not out of fear of a vengeful God who is looking for reasons to get tough with our loved ones. Instead, we join with all the company of heaven, with Angels and Archangels and say 'Holy, holy, holy'. We pray with joy...thanking God for the lives of our loved ones among us, but also glad that they are now even closer to the heart of God than us. We give thanks that they live in the midst of inexpressible joy, and that they are even now being made into gods by our loving Heavenly Parent.
Is there room for doubt? Is there a possibility that some of those who die do not, ultimately end up transformed into gods? Perhaps. The Bible certainly points to the idea that it is possible for someone to be so self-centred, so wrapped up in themselves, so closed to the possibility of a life transformed by God, that they may consign themselves to oblivion. As C.S.Lewis said so eloquently, 'the doors of hell are locked on the inside'.
I've lost a bit of weight recently - nearly 4 stone actually. So I'm feeling rather chuffed with myself. But if I gave up eating altogether, then I would eventually die. The tragedy of life is that there are some who give up feeding spiritually from God altogether. They never open themselves to love, to companionship, to acts of kindness, to family, to generosity...let alone to the idea of belonging to a church. Such people, the Bible suggests, the people who never raise a finger to the sick, or the poor, or the oppressed...such people's hearts have become like rocks. Rocks don't change very easily. It's hard for a rock to be changed into a god. It's not impossible. But its hard. And some, perhaps never make it.
But ask yourself this about your own loved ones. Did they know any goodness in their life? Did they know what it meant to love and to be loved? Then how could they possibly resist the love of God when they encounter it? How could they want to do anything more than accept God's free gift of life, in heavenly City where there is no more mourning or crying or pain? If you sometimes doubt where your loved ones have gone - hold on to that thought. Did your loved-one respond to love on earth? Then how much more will they respond to Love in heaven! Or in Jesus' words: "which of you if your child asked for bread would give him a stone? How much more then will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask for them" (See Mt 7.9ff)
Jesus raised Lazurus from the dead. Jesus reversed the normal process of decay that follows death - showing that God, who changes not, can yet bring about enormous change. God who changes not change us. It’s glorious change. It's change that we should welcome, look forward to, anticipate, and begin to embrace today. We who have been born again by the Spirit of God are on the glorious, ever-changing Journey of Life.
And it’s change that I promise I'll think about differently the next time that I moan about my garden.
Amen
Saturday, October 24, 2009
The Blind Receive Their Sight
Mark 10: 46-52
Today is known as Bible Sunday - the day when we are encouraged to think about the importance of the Bible in our lives...and to support the work of agencies like the Bible Society who do so much to put Scripture into the hands of those who have not yet received it.
The Bible is strange publication. It is said to be the most popular book in the world. According to the book "The Top 10 of Everything" by Russell Ash, "No one really knows how many copies of the Bible have been printed, sold, or
distributed. The Bible Society's attempt to calculate the number printed
between 1816 and 1975 produced the figure of 2.4 billion. A more recent
survey, for the years up to 1992, put it closer to 6 billion in more than
2,000 languages and dialects. Whatever the precise figure, the Bible is by far
the bestselling book of all time." (See http://answers.google.com/answers/threadview?id=14).
According to the TIMES newspaper in 1996:
"Forget modern British novelists and TV tie-ins, the Bible is the best-selling book every year. If sales of the Bible were included in best-seller lists, it would be a rare week when anything else would achieve a look in. It is wonderful, weird ... that in this godless age... this one book should go on selling, every month." (See http://www.soon.org.uk/page19.htm )
On the other hand, it is said, the Bible is also the least read book in the world! Its a strange fact - almost every house in the Christian-influenced world has at least one Bible. But very few people ever open it. Bibles are given as gifts to children. They are given when people are baptised or confirmed. Sometimes they are given as wedding gifts. But, unfortunately, for many people they often remain as pristine as they are on the day they are received.
Why is this? I'm sure it's for a number of reasons. Sometimes the translations of the Bible are in language that is just too difficult to understand. So people who don't read anything more than a newspaper or TV advert find it just too difficult to read...especially traditional versions like the 'King James'. Many people have told me that they do try to start reading the Bible, but as soon as they get past the initial stories of Genesis and the early parts of Exodus, they find the endless lists of numbers of people, and endless laws, just too hard going. Others, having skipped the laws, find themselves in the Psalms, or in the books of prophecy...and there they quickly find their attention wandering, because of the range of images and ideas - which come from a mind-set and culture that is very different from our own.
And so, frustrated (and perhaps feeling a little guilty) such people lay aside their Bible, and pick up a nice easy romance novel instead. Or a nice easy gossip magazine. And the result is that we have a whole generation of Christians, in churches all over the world, who have been told time and again to read their bibles...but who find that they just can't do it. Even if they do manage to slog their way through to the end - the sheer variety of ideas, the apparent contradictions, the complex imagery, the extremely complicated theological ideas; all conspire to make many people feel totally inadequate to the task. I know this is true. I know it because people tell me so. I know that many of you, if I asked you to be honest, would tell me that you haven't opened your own Bible for years. You will undoubtedly be a good Christian. You will be someone who tries to follow Jesus every day. You will be someone who worships your Creator, loves their neighbour, and who gives generously to the work of God. And yet, you will be carrying around this weight of guilt that you never actually open your Bible.
So, how am I to respond to this fact? How would you expect me to react? Perhaps I should pull myself up to my full height and shout 'Sinners!' at you from the pulpit. Hmm...I'm not sure that would help very much, would it?
Because, actually, if you are one of those who finds the Bible difficult to read...I agree with you. The Bible is not a novel. It's not a newspaper. Some people have described the Bible as 'the Maker's Instructions'. But for many, its the kind of instructions which come from Korea, translated by someone who learned their English in primary school...like this bit of helpful instruction from a computer hard-drive I recently purchased: "More simple under USB interface, it only can do until the 3rd step and deleted is present channel. Please plug the USB cable out after the
safe injection when delete the files in the computer."!!
But the Bible is not an instruction manual. Neither is it a well-planned novel from a single writer, who sets out to tell a story. Instead, it is a collection of 66 letters and books, assembled over a period of about 1,600 years. It contains legal codes, songs and poetry, prophecy, myths, stories and complex theology. Sometimes these different elements are separate. Sometimes they are woven into just one of the 66 books - such as the book of Revelation, which is just about the most complex of all the books.
So should we abandon all hope? Is the Bible just too much for us to handle? That was, in fact, the view of the Catholic Church for many centuries. It is still an attitude which prevails, to some extent, in the Orthodox Church - as I discovered last week in Romania. The Catholic Church believed that the layers of the Bible were too complex for the vast majority of simple folk to comprehend...and that it would be dangerous to release the Bible for general consumption. Bishops and Cardinals feared that people who had not been comprehensively educated in how to read the Bible would be in danger of picking up random phrases and ideas which seemed to support their own world view. And, when we look at the sheer number of different churches, each with their own slant on the Bible, we are forced to wonder whether they may have been right.
The Orthodox Church does not actively discourage its people from reading the Bible, but neither do they particularly encourage it. Instead, Orthodox services are deeply soaked in Scripture - using constant repetition. The Orthodox Church holds that if people regularly attend church, and listen to the Scriptures they encounter there, it will be enough. For Orthodoxy, and previously for Catholicism, the Bible has always been a book that is encountered by a community - rather than by individuals. It is read in community. It is understood in community. The community speaks and sings the words of Scripture together - and through doing so, find new layers of communal meaning.
And actually, that's pretty close to what we do here, isn't it? I was once supporting someone who had left a charismatic church and joined an Anglican one. After attending a few services, he said to me, "I never realised how much you Anglicans use the Bible". He pointed out that whilst in a typical charismatic service only one small portion of the Bible would be read and studied, practically the whole of the Anglican service was taken, piece by piece, from the pages of the Bible. He said to me, "your services are soaked in Scripture, aren't they?" he was right. Almost every major part of our service comes directly from the Bible. Everything from the words of confession to the Eucharistic prayer, to the Blessing at the end of the service - all of these are words that are drawn from Scripture - words that have been spoken by people of God for thousands of years. On top of that, we hear at least two portions of the Bible read, at least one of them is studied through the sermon, and other portions are sung through hymns and anthems. Yes, indeed, we are soaked in Scripture.
So does this mean that we don't need to bother with the hard work of reading the Bible on our own? No. It doesn't. One of the things that the Protestant Reformation gave us, and indeed gave our brothers and sisters in the Catholic church, was access to the precious pages of Scripture for ourselves. With that access comes the chance to grow daily in our understanding of God.
But, the Catholic Bishops of old were right about one thing. They were right that, unless properly understood, it would be easy for uneducated people to pick up the Bible, and then just quote one or two choice phrases which happen to suit their own idea of the world. That's why the quote "you shall not suffer a witch to live" was used so mercilessly throughout the Middle Ages. That's why the letter to Philemon was used for so long as a justification for slavery. And that's why even today, battle lines are being drawn over all sorts of issues, based on different interpretations of Scripture - everything from the question of ordaining gay bishops to the question of how God heals today, the place of the Holy Spirit in worship, and the vexed question of women priests.
The problem, I think, is this. Some people look to the Bible to justify their already fixed position or predjudice on one issue or another. When they do so, I think that they fundamentally mis-understand the story that runs through all the pages of the Bible. That is a story of a Journey. Taken as a whole, the Bible says very little about fixed positions, and, taken as a whole, it simply cannot be used to support any predjudice. Instead every story in the Bible, and even the story of how the Bible was put together, is a story about a journey.
There is the journey from darkness to light, at the very beginning of time. There is the story of the exit from Eden. There's the story of Noah, who journeys away from a world of wickedness to a new creation after the flood. There's the story of Abraham who leaves his father's home and flocks, to journey to a new land of promise. There's the story of Moses, who leads the people of Israel on a journey of discovery through the desert. There's the story of the nation of Israel, who journey through good times and bad, power and exile, towards the promise of a new Jerusalem. There's the story of Jesus who journeys from the centre of God to experience humanity and then to return to the right hand of God. There's the story of the early church, and the journeys they make to take God's good news out to the World. There's the final journey of humankind, mapped out in the visions of John in the book of Revelation - a glorious, mythological journey through times of evil and testing, to the promise of new creation and resurrection.
Do you know what the first followers of Jesus were called? Before anyone had coined the name 'Christians' - the followers of Jesus were called 'Followers of the Way'. (See Acts 22 and 24 for evidence). They understood that the message of the Bible was the story of a journey - a journey from darkness to light, a journey from sinfulness to healing, a journey from death to life, a journey from ignorance to enlightenment. Anyone who learns to see read the Bible as a pointer towards this journey has, I think, made a major step forward. Anyone who tries to interpret the Bible as a set of rules or principles which can be used to trump someone else's ideas, is on a hiding to nowhere. They will never be able to conclusively argue their point from Scripture - because Scripture simply does not speak that plainly, when taken as a whole.
Once we understand the Bible as a narrative of the journey - then we can truly begin to unlock its secrets. Once we've learned to read our own journeys in the stories that the Bible contains, we've made a major step on the road to wisdom. There is perhaps no better illustration of this point that the story of Blind Bartimeaus, from today's Gospel reading. It is a story that is rich with journey images...
The story starts in Jericho - the City, you will remember, that was once destroyed by Joshua after journeying for seven days round and round its walls. Joshua's persistence on his journey meant the destruction of the city which has been seen as evil. Now, Jesus is pictured leaving the famous City of Evil, taking many with him away from its famous walls. As he leaves it, he is shouted at by Bartimeaus. "Son of David", he calls. "Son of David, have pity on me". The very title given to Jesus by Bartimeaus is a signal of a journey - the genetic journey from David to Jesus.
The crowd tell Bartimeaus to be quiet. They don't want him on their journey. He is not like them. He's different. He's blind. He will be an pain to take on the journey. They will have to look after him, care for him, feed him. No, it's better if he keeps quiet.
But Jesus has other ideas. "Call him", he says. And the crowd, perhaps seeing that they were wrong not to want Bartimeaus on the journey, are moved. "Cheer up!", they say to the blind man. "On your feet". "Start out on the journey with us...Jesus has called you too".
What happens next? Jesus heals Bartimeaus. He takes him from blindness to sight. From darkness to light. And this little story ends with one final journey metaphor: "Immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus along the road". (Mk 10.52)
Journey. Journey. Journey. Its all about the Journey.
So - let me try to summarise. The Bible is a difficult book for anyone. It's no surprise to me that it is the most published, but the least read, book in the world. It can indeed be complex and confusing - and there is no shame in admitting that we sometimes find it too difficult to manage.
But here, in church, Sunday by Sunday, we open and read the Bible together. Together, as the family of God, we grapple with its meanings, we wrestle with images and we are inspired by its examples and teaching. And, during our service, we also use the words that our ancestors gave us through the Bible to praise the same God that they praised.
And finally, I invite you to see the Bible in a new light - not as a rule book to be followed slavishly, and certainly not as a verbal weapon to beat other religions up with. Instead, I invite you to see it as a book which can shine light on our own journeys - our voyages of discovery about who we are, and who we can become in the light and life of God.
Perhaps, with that one over-riding, essential interpretive thought in our mind, each of us might be better equipped to open our own Bibles, and begin to get to the heart of its message.
Amen?
Today is known as Bible Sunday - the day when we are encouraged to think about the importance of the Bible in our lives...and to support the work of agencies like the Bible Society who do so much to put Scripture into the hands of those who have not yet received it.
The Bible is strange publication. It is said to be the most popular book in the world. According to the book "The Top 10 of Everything" by Russell Ash, "No one really knows how many copies of the Bible have been printed, sold, or
distributed. The Bible Society's attempt to calculate the number printed
between 1816 and 1975 produced the figure of 2.4 billion. A more recent
survey, for the years up to 1992, put it closer to 6 billion in more than
2,000 languages and dialects. Whatever the precise figure, the Bible is by far
the bestselling book of all time." (See http://answers.google.com/answers/threadview?id=14).
According to the TIMES newspaper in 1996:
"Forget modern British novelists and TV tie-ins, the Bible is the best-selling book every year. If sales of the Bible were included in best-seller lists, it would be a rare week when anything else would achieve a look in. It is wonderful, weird ... that in this godless age... this one book should go on selling, every month." (See http://www.soon.org.uk/page19.htm )
On the other hand, it is said, the Bible is also the least read book in the world! Its a strange fact - almost every house in the Christian-influenced world has at least one Bible. But very few people ever open it. Bibles are given as gifts to children. They are given when people are baptised or confirmed. Sometimes they are given as wedding gifts. But, unfortunately, for many people they often remain as pristine as they are on the day they are received.
Why is this? I'm sure it's for a number of reasons. Sometimes the translations of the Bible are in language that is just too difficult to understand. So people who don't read anything more than a newspaper or TV advert find it just too difficult to read...especially traditional versions like the 'King James'. Many people have told me that they do try to start reading the Bible, but as soon as they get past the initial stories of Genesis and the early parts of Exodus, they find the endless lists of numbers of people, and endless laws, just too hard going. Others, having skipped the laws, find themselves in the Psalms, or in the books of prophecy...and there they quickly find their attention wandering, because of the range of images and ideas - which come from a mind-set and culture that is very different from our own.
And so, frustrated (and perhaps feeling a little guilty) such people lay aside their Bible, and pick up a nice easy romance novel instead. Or a nice easy gossip magazine. And the result is that we have a whole generation of Christians, in churches all over the world, who have been told time and again to read their bibles...but who find that they just can't do it. Even if they do manage to slog their way through to the end - the sheer variety of ideas, the apparent contradictions, the complex imagery, the extremely complicated theological ideas; all conspire to make many people feel totally inadequate to the task. I know this is true. I know it because people tell me so. I know that many of you, if I asked you to be honest, would tell me that you haven't opened your own Bible for years. You will undoubtedly be a good Christian. You will be someone who tries to follow Jesus every day. You will be someone who worships your Creator, loves their neighbour, and who gives generously to the work of God. And yet, you will be carrying around this weight of guilt that you never actually open your Bible.
So, how am I to respond to this fact? How would you expect me to react? Perhaps I should pull myself up to my full height and shout 'Sinners!' at you from the pulpit. Hmm...I'm not sure that would help very much, would it?
Because, actually, if you are one of those who finds the Bible difficult to read...I agree with you. The Bible is not a novel. It's not a newspaper. Some people have described the Bible as 'the Maker's Instructions'. But for many, its the kind of instructions which come from Korea, translated by someone who learned their English in primary school...like this bit of helpful instruction from a computer hard-drive I recently purchased: "More simple under USB interface, it only can do until the 3rd step and deleted is present channel. Please plug the USB cable out after the
safe injection when delete the files in the computer."!!
But the Bible is not an instruction manual. Neither is it a well-planned novel from a single writer, who sets out to tell a story. Instead, it is a collection of 66 letters and books, assembled over a period of about 1,600 years. It contains legal codes, songs and poetry, prophecy, myths, stories and complex theology. Sometimes these different elements are separate. Sometimes they are woven into just one of the 66 books - such as the book of Revelation, which is just about the most complex of all the books.
So should we abandon all hope? Is the Bible just too much for us to handle? That was, in fact, the view of the Catholic Church for many centuries. It is still an attitude which prevails, to some extent, in the Orthodox Church - as I discovered last week in Romania. The Catholic Church believed that the layers of the Bible were too complex for the vast majority of simple folk to comprehend...and that it would be dangerous to release the Bible for general consumption. Bishops and Cardinals feared that people who had not been comprehensively educated in how to read the Bible would be in danger of picking up random phrases and ideas which seemed to support their own world view. And, when we look at the sheer number of different churches, each with their own slant on the Bible, we are forced to wonder whether they may have been right.
The Orthodox Church does not actively discourage its people from reading the Bible, but neither do they particularly encourage it. Instead, Orthodox services are deeply soaked in Scripture - using constant repetition. The Orthodox Church holds that if people regularly attend church, and listen to the Scriptures they encounter there, it will be enough. For Orthodoxy, and previously for Catholicism, the Bible has always been a book that is encountered by a community - rather than by individuals. It is read in community. It is understood in community. The community speaks and sings the words of Scripture together - and through doing so, find new layers of communal meaning.
And actually, that's pretty close to what we do here, isn't it? I was once supporting someone who had left a charismatic church and joined an Anglican one. After attending a few services, he said to me, "I never realised how much you Anglicans use the Bible". He pointed out that whilst in a typical charismatic service only one small portion of the Bible would be read and studied, practically the whole of the Anglican service was taken, piece by piece, from the pages of the Bible. He said to me, "your services are soaked in Scripture, aren't they?" he was right. Almost every major part of our service comes directly from the Bible. Everything from the words of confession to the Eucharistic prayer, to the Blessing at the end of the service - all of these are words that are drawn from Scripture - words that have been spoken by people of God for thousands of years. On top of that, we hear at least two portions of the Bible read, at least one of them is studied through the sermon, and other portions are sung through hymns and anthems. Yes, indeed, we are soaked in Scripture.
So does this mean that we don't need to bother with the hard work of reading the Bible on our own? No. It doesn't. One of the things that the Protestant Reformation gave us, and indeed gave our brothers and sisters in the Catholic church, was access to the precious pages of Scripture for ourselves. With that access comes the chance to grow daily in our understanding of God.
But, the Catholic Bishops of old were right about one thing. They were right that, unless properly understood, it would be easy for uneducated people to pick up the Bible, and then just quote one or two choice phrases which happen to suit their own idea of the world. That's why the quote "you shall not suffer a witch to live" was used so mercilessly throughout the Middle Ages. That's why the letter to Philemon was used for so long as a justification for slavery. And that's why even today, battle lines are being drawn over all sorts of issues, based on different interpretations of Scripture - everything from the question of ordaining gay bishops to the question of how God heals today, the place of the Holy Spirit in worship, and the vexed question of women priests.
The problem, I think, is this. Some people look to the Bible to justify their already fixed position or predjudice on one issue or another. When they do so, I think that they fundamentally mis-understand the story that runs through all the pages of the Bible. That is a story of a Journey. Taken as a whole, the Bible says very little about fixed positions, and, taken as a whole, it simply cannot be used to support any predjudice. Instead every story in the Bible, and even the story of how the Bible was put together, is a story about a journey.
There is the journey from darkness to light, at the very beginning of time. There is the story of the exit from Eden. There's the story of Noah, who journeys away from a world of wickedness to a new creation after the flood. There's the story of Abraham who leaves his father's home and flocks, to journey to a new land of promise. There's the story of Moses, who leads the people of Israel on a journey of discovery through the desert. There's the story of the nation of Israel, who journey through good times and bad, power and exile, towards the promise of a new Jerusalem. There's the story of Jesus who journeys from the centre of God to experience humanity and then to return to the right hand of God. There's the story of the early church, and the journeys they make to take God's good news out to the World. There's the final journey of humankind, mapped out in the visions of John in the book of Revelation - a glorious, mythological journey through times of evil and testing, to the promise of new creation and resurrection.
Do you know what the first followers of Jesus were called? Before anyone had coined the name 'Christians' - the followers of Jesus were called 'Followers of the Way'. (See Acts 22 and 24 for evidence). They understood that the message of the Bible was the story of a journey - a journey from darkness to light, a journey from sinfulness to healing, a journey from death to life, a journey from ignorance to enlightenment. Anyone who learns to see read the Bible as a pointer towards this journey has, I think, made a major step forward. Anyone who tries to interpret the Bible as a set of rules or principles which can be used to trump someone else's ideas, is on a hiding to nowhere. They will never be able to conclusively argue their point from Scripture - because Scripture simply does not speak that plainly, when taken as a whole.
Once we understand the Bible as a narrative of the journey - then we can truly begin to unlock its secrets. Once we've learned to read our own journeys in the stories that the Bible contains, we've made a major step on the road to wisdom. There is perhaps no better illustration of this point that the story of Blind Bartimeaus, from today's Gospel reading. It is a story that is rich with journey images...
The story starts in Jericho - the City, you will remember, that was once destroyed by Joshua after journeying for seven days round and round its walls. Joshua's persistence on his journey meant the destruction of the city which has been seen as evil. Now, Jesus is pictured leaving the famous City of Evil, taking many with him away from its famous walls. As he leaves it, he is shouted at by Bartimeaus. "Son of David", he calls. "Son of David, have pity on me". The very title given to Jesus by Bartimeaus is a signal of a journey - the genetic journey from David to Jesus.
The crowd tell Bartimeaus to be quiet. They don't want him on their journey. He is not like them. He's different. He's blind. He will be an pain to take on the journey. They will have to look after him, care for him, feed him. No, it's better if he keeps quiet.
But Jesus has other ideas. "Call him", he says. And the crowd, perhaps seeing that they were wrong not to want Bartimeaus on the journey, are moved. "Cheer up!", they say to the blind man. "On your feet". "Start out on the journey with us...Jesus has called you too".
What happens next? Jesus heals Bartimeaus. He takes him from blindness to sight. From darkness to light. And this little story ends with one final journey metaphor: "Immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus along the road". (Mk 10.52)
Journey. Journey. Journey. Its all about the Journey.
So - let me try to summarise. The Bible is a difficult book for anyone. It's no surprise to me that it is the most published, but the least read, book in the world. It can indeed be complex and confusing - and there is no shame in admitting that we sometimes find it too difficult to manage.
But here, in church, Sunday by Sunday, we open and read the Bible together. Together, as the family of God, we grapple with its meanings, we wrestle with images and we are inspired by its examples and teaching. And, during our service, we also use the words that our ancestors gave us through the Bible to praise the same God that they praised.
And finally, I invite you to see the Bible in a new light - not as a rule book to be followed slavishly, and certainly not as a verbal weapon to beat other religions up with. Instead, I invite you to see it as a book which can shine light on our own journeys - our voyages of discovery about who we are, and who we can become in the light and life of God.
Perhaps, with that one over-riding, essential interpretive thought in our mind, each of us might be better equipped to open our own Bibles, and begin to get to the heart of its message.
Amen?
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Divorce
Mark 10. 1-16 Jesus' teaching on Divorce
Once in a while, as a preacher, I get a sermon topic that makes me groan as I open the Bible to prepare. I confess that this is one of those Sundays!
We have in front of us a text which - unless we read it very carefully - is one which could send people running screaming from the church!
On the surface, there's no getting away from Jesus' primary message here. Consider verses 10 and 11: "Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery"! That's a very tough line to take, isn't it?
Jesus' foundation for this very stern line is the book of Genesis. He approves of the ancient notion that when a man leaves his father and mother he becomes joined to his wife. The two become one flesh. "So", says Jesus in verse 8, "they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore," he goes on, "what God has joined together, let no one separate" (or 'put assunder' as the King James Bible puts it so poetically!)
So, on the face of it, there appears to be no good news here for anyone who has been divorced. A plain reading of this text seems to brand anyone who has been divorced as acting contrary to the very will of God. Even harder, anyone who has re-married is branded as an adulterer!
And there's an even more uncomfortable truth about Jesus that we preachers have to confront. The fact is that Jesus sets the bar very high on every aspect of human behaviour. "Love your enemies - and pray for your persecutors". "Sell all you have, and give the money to the poor". "Love God with all your heart, soul, body, mind and strength." And as we saw last week - "pluck out your eye if it causes you to sin". "Cut off your hand if it causes you to stumble". The list is endless. In fact if any of us - married, single, divorced - if any of us try to hold ourselves up against the high standards that Jesus set, then there is, apparently, no good news for any of us.
But before we all despair, and run from the Church screaming - let's relax. Let's dig a little deeper into what's going on here.
We need, first of all, to see Jesus' teachings in the light of Jesus' actions. Let's first consider what Jesus' reaction so often is to those he encounters who are in living in sinful ways. Time and time again, his reaction is one of open-handed forgiveness. Despite his clear opposition to the principal of adultery, when he actually encounters the woman who has been caught in the actual act, he ends up saying "neither do I condemn you. Go, and sin no more". To Matthew, the greedy tax-collector, he says "Come, follow me". Consider the woman at the well, who has had many husbands; he freely converses with her and teaches her. Consider Peter, who denied his Lord three times; Jesus forgives him and restores him to a leadership position. The sinful woman who washed his feet with her tears; she finds acceptance and forgiveness.
We need then to see Jesus the one who sets a standard. His standards are high. The kind of perfection he describes is difficult to attain. But then, what's the point of a standard unless it requires something from us...something to aspire to.
On the other hand, though, Jesus is also the one who freely offers forgiveness to those who fail to meet the standard. Jesus knows that his standards are high - even too high for us to meet in our own strength, and by our own resources. To anyone who shows even a glimmer of understanding that their lives fall short of the standard, Jesus opens his arms and welcomes them in. To those who turn to him, he offers his own living spirit - the Holy Spirit of God - to dwell within us...drawing us on ever closer to the heavenly standards of the Kingdom of God. That's why we in this church continue to marry people who have been divorced. We draw from Jesus' example of not condemning those who, like the rest of us in so many respects, have missed the mark. We offer loving forgiveness - and we hope that it is offered to us in return. We forgive others their sins, and pray that we might be forgiven ours too. "Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us" The only people whom Jesus continually criticises and rails at are the chief priests and pharisees...who simply refuse to see that they, too, fall short of the high standards of God.
So, there is good news, after all. The good news is that forgiveness, healing, wholeness and new life are all freely available to anyone who trusts in Jesus, and in Jesus' way of living. Anyone who looks at the standards he sets, recognises them for what they are...Godly standards...anyone who turns away from their way of living, and turns towards God's way of living...to such people there is utter forgiveness, and the chance to start over again. All of that is summed up in the ancient phrase..."Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand". The word 'repent' comes from a Greek word that meant 'turn around' or 'turn away'. So, literally, 'turn around' and point yourself towards God's standards - God's way of living...or 'the Kingdom of Heaven'.
Another ancient word that we ought to understand is the word 'sin'. Like so many words we use in Christianity, it comes out of an ancient Greek concept. A 'sin' to the ancient Greeks was in fact a term used in archery-training. To sin was 'to miss the target'. So for us too, to sin is to miss the mark, or to fall short of the high standards of God.
That is, of course the heart of the Gospel. Those of you who think I'm sometimes a bit too liberal need to hear that that is where I stand. Forgiveness, healing and new life are freely available to anyone who recognises that they have sinned...that they have missed the mark. Forgiveness and healing are available to anyone who will turn around, repent, and turn towards Jesus', and who will receive his gift of new life. We can all be 'born again' - given the chance to start over - and receive the free gift of God's Holy Spirit living within us, changing us from glory to glory. We can all live forever in the Kingdom of Heaven - the way of being that embraces God's standards, and which flows on into eternity.
But there's more. There's something even deeper going on just under the surface of these texts we are considering. In both last week and this week's readings there is a unifying concept at work - unifying in the sense of the notion of one-ness. Let me explain...
In this week's reading, from Mark 10, we see Jesus refering to the Genesis notion of one-ness. Two, separate human beings come together - and become one. "So", says Jesus, "they are no longer two but one".
In the the previous chapter - Mark 9.42-49 which I read last week - we heard Jesus successively working his way through most of the things we have two of - and suggesting that one be got rid of. Hands, feet, eyes - all reduced to one-ness.
This is a theme that echoes through all the Gospels, and into the New Testament in general. In John Chapter 17, for example, we are given a front-row seat as Jesus prays to his Father in heaven. What does he pray? He prays for his followers, "that they may all be one, just as you and I are one". He goes on to pray in John 17.23: "I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one."
The concept of One-ness, then, seems to be a key Gospel principle. And it's one that a branch of early Christianity took up with relish. They were called 'Gnostic' Christians - from the Greek word 'gnosis' which meant 'knowledge'. The Gnostics took the notion of one-ness that pervades the Gospel and extended it to a new and radical thought. What if, they argued, we were all not just children of God, but actually aspects of God ourselves? What if I am a part of God which, for the brief span of a human life, is being 'Tom' for a while? What if you and I are infact all parts of the same God...each of us experiencing and delighting in what it means to be human for a while. What if Jesus - whom we believe to have been fully God as well as fully human - is a pointer to a deeper truth...the idea that we are all both human and divine?
Personally, I don't go as far as the Gnostics did. I think that their idea tends to confuse the Creator with the Creation. But I don't claim to be wise in all things. I don't think I've understood even a tiny bit of the depths and wonder of God. I remain open, as I hope you do, to what God yet wants to teach us about God's self. There is plenty of Scripture that points us in the Gnostics' direction of thought. There is the idea of God as the Vine, and us as connected branches. There is Paul's metaphor of all the people of God being one body.
If the Gnostics were right, or even half-right, then the notion of one-ness becomes even more crucial. True one-ness would mean living and acting in ways that truly understood just how connected we all truly are. No longer would we see ourselves as separate autonomous beings - who can callously inflict pain and suffering on each other. Instead we would learn that to inflict pain on someone else, or to stand by while another person suffers, is to inflict that suffering on ourselves. An understanding of true one-ness would allow us to make sense of St Paul's notion that when one member of the body hurts, then all hurt. When one celebrates, we all celebrate.
Further than that, a full understanding of one-ness - whether Gnostic or not - would enable us to see God in a completely new way. No longer would God be the old man on a cloud, looking down on us, waiting to give out rewards or punishments. Instead we would begin to see God as the creative, life-giving force at our very centre. Instead of looking outwards for our salvation, we would begin to look inwards...tapping the very source of life that is at the centre of all our lives.
In that context, the idea of two people becoming one through marriage - or indeed any close, personal, faithful relationship - begins to make even more sense. Those of us who are happily married know what it is to discover the connections which build and grow over a life-time of togetherness. We begin to recognise the Divine Spark in each other...and to recognise that we share the same Divine Spark. When one of us hurts, the other is wounded too. When one of us is happy, the other shares their joy. Marriage, and other kinds of close personal relationship, become something to which we can all aspire...because in togetherness we begin to discover the truth of one-ness. Sometimes it takes hard work. Sometimes we have to give up something of our own needs and wants in order to discover what we need and want together. Some people are simply unable to make that transition...they remain stuck in their own desires...and it is in those circumstances that infidelity, adultery and ultimately divorce often occur.
That is why, ultimately, I think that Jesus sets committed faithful marriage as such a high standard - and why he discourages separation and infidelity in such strident terms. It's not because he's stuck with some outdated notion of the 'way things should be'. It's because he speaks out of his unique sense of one-ness with God, and recognises that committed, faithful, loving marriage can open our eyes to the connection we all share in God.
So marriage then is a picture, a holy picture, of one-ness...the one-ness that lies at the heart of the Gospel. In much the same way that two become one in marriage, so we who are separated from God by the way we live our separate lives, can become joined to God.
That's a standard worth aspiring to I think.
Amen?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)