Friday, March 9, 2012

The Cross: Symbol of Our Sure and Certain Hope


John 3. 13-17


The Cross:  Our Sure and Certain Hope…

A homily for the end of a Lenten Quiet Day, at the Church of the Ascension, Portsmouth.

The Cross is a powerful symbol indeed.  It stands, for many, at the centre of their faith, and even at the centre of time itself.  A traditional belief, especially in the Orthodox church, is that after his Crucifixion, Jesus descended into the world of the dead, and released those who had died before him, but who were held captive because of their sin.  The Cross then, stands at the Crossroads of time.  Jesus’ atoning death is believed to have effect both forward and backwards in time.

It should not surprise us then, perhaps, to discover the cross, or cross-like symbols, popping up throughout history.  Many crosses have been found throughout pre-history…way before it became important as a Christian symbol.  In most cases, the cross was a symbol of life.  It may be that the cross symbolised the making of fire by rubbing two sticks together…fire being a symbol of warmth, the Sun, and life.  In other mythologies, crosses symbolised a connection between heaven (as a vertical line) and earth (as the horizontal line).  Worship, therefore, took place at the point of connection between heaven and earth…at the centre of the Cross.  There are two pre-Christian crosses that you will probably be most familiar with. The first is the Swastika – which has a wide variety of meanings to many many different people of the world (see here for more details ) .  The second is the Ankh – an Egyptian version of the cross, with a looped head at the top…believed to be principally a symbol of life.  (See here for more details )

Initially, after Jesus’ death, the cross didn’t feature in Christian worship at all.  For many, it was a disgusting and degrading symbol, not worthy to be used in connection with the Christ.  For us, a modern parallel might be the use of a hang-man’s noose as a religious symbol.  Early Christians, as you probably know, preferred the use of the secret sign of the fish (here for more details ) - the Icthus, the letters of which could form an acrostic phrase:  Jesus Christ, Son of God, Saviour.

However, as crucifixion faded from habitual use by the Romans, we begin to see the sign of the cross emerging in Christian worship…until, by our time, it has become a ubiquitous sign of the Christian religion…like it, or not!

The cross, then, comes to us with redolent history.  It is an ancient sign of life and healing - a divine union between heaven and earth.  Tradition has it that the ‘pole’ which Moses lifted up in the desert, for sick people to gaze upon and find healing, was in fact a cross…though in this case it was a ‘T’ shaped cross.  The same symbol – a T-shaped cross with a bronze serpent – is now a universal sign of the healing arts.

The sign of the cross speaks to us of life…and of a mystical union between heaven and earth.  But to Christians it speaks still deeper.  For it was on a cross that God showed how much he loved the world.  In the words of our Gospel reading, 'God so loved the world that he gave his only son, to the end that everyone who believes in him should not perish, but should have everlasting life' (John 3.16).  The whole narrative push of the Gospels was that is was necessary for Jesus to die on such a cross.

But why? Why was it necessary for Jesus to die on a Cross? It's frankly what the church calls (for good reason!) a ‘Mystery’.  My advice is that you should be deeply suspicious of anyone who tells you that they have understood exactly what Jesus was accomplishing on the cross.  The writers of the Bible itself wrestle with meaning – at various points they conjure with metaphors like ‘paying a ransom to the devil’ or ‘taking our sins upon him’ or ‘being punished for our sake’.  Later theologians have sometimes preferred to speak of the Cross as a grand moral example…a graphic, lived-out picture of how far it is necessary to commit oneself to the Gospel.  Others have pointed out how the Cross stands as a vindication of peaceful resistance over inhuman violence…because the subsequent Resurrection demonstrates that peace will eventually overcome all war.  Rowan Williams suggests through the Cross, the human power-mongers who promise that violence can rule the world are shown to be false prophets.  How can violence rule the world if it ends up pushing God to the margins of society?

So, as you can see, there are many different ways of understanding, or meditating upon the meaning of the Cross.  But through them all, one underlying reality holds sway.  It was to the Cross that Jesus turned his face.  He was reluctant…praying that this particular cup of suffering may pass him by…but it was clearly vital to Him, and to the completion of his mission.

For that reason, if no other, we look to the Cross. The Cross was important to Jesus…it symbolised the very apex of his mission.  And so to us, the Cross symbolises the very heart of our Religion.  It symbolises the sure and certain hope that we have that, as our Gospel reading made clear, ‘whosoever believes in Him, will have eternal life’.

It is perhaps worth pointing out, however, that Jesus did not dictate, in that passage, precisely what we were to believe about him.  We are not asked to sign up to any particular theological understanding of his atoning death, for example.  We are invited not to believe things about Jesus…but to believe in Jesus.  We are invited into something similar to a relationship with a person, not mental assent to a series of theoretical propositions.

Those who ‘believe in Him’ are those who have studied his life, as well as we can understand it from our distance in time.  Those who believe in Him are those who trust that His way of living, his way of giving, sacrificially, of all that he had and was…this is the way to eternal life.  The Cross symbolises the giving up of the last thing a man can give…his very life.  For us, especially in this time of Lent, may it symbolise the giving of our lives too…offered as living sacrifices for the God who is our sure and certain hope.

Amen

Monday, February 6, 2012

Healing Simon's Mother-in-Law


Mark 1:29-29

A gospel reading with the words 'Simon's Mother-in-Law' is just too good to resist, isn't it?  Many of you know my mother-in-law, Jan...and a sweeter person you couldn't wish to meet.  But I just can't help laughing when I hear some of those old mother-in-law jokes.  You know the ones...

"I haven't spoken to my mother in law for 18 months.  I don't like to interrupt her" (Ken Dodd)

"We all know when my mother in law is coming up the path.  The mice start throwing themselves at the traps." (Les Dawson)

"I just got back from a pleasure trip...I took my mother in law to the airport" (Henry Youngman)

and my all time favourite...

"My mother in law threatened me one day...she said 'I'm going to dance on your grave'.  I said, 'I hope so...I'm going to be buried at sea' "(Les Dawson)

These ten verses of Mark's Gospel, however, have a very different attitude to mother in laws!  Did you notice, during the reading, that after Jesus healed her, Simon's mother-in-law set about serving her guests?  Reading that with modern eyes, we might wonder what's going on.  It's almost as though Jesus healed the woman so that she would go and get him a cup of tea!  But of course, nothing could be further from the truth.  In 1st Century Palestine, the privilege of serving an honoured guest was one which was given to the senior woman of the house.  It was counted a right, an honour and a privilege.  Simon's wife might have served the guests... especially after her mother had been so ill.  But clearly, serving guests was what her mother wanted to do, as soon as she was well. It was a matter of honour, not servitude.

Have you noticed how often Jesus' healing miracles are about more than just restoring someone to health? As soon as she is healed, Simon's mother in law is immediately restored to her position of honour in the house.  When Jesus heals someone, the healing doesn't just deal with physical symptoms.  It also, invariably, has the effect of bringing people from one state of being to another. Jesus seeks to restore not just health, but, as we thought about a couple of weeks ago, life in all its fullness (John 10.10).

In 1st Century Palestine, sick people were often treated as though their illness was their fault.  Based on some ideas that were expressed in the Old Testament, people believed that illness was the result of some sin or other - either something done by the sick person, or perhaps by their parents.  Sickness was seen as a punishment for sin...and sinners needed to be shunned and excluded from society.   Kept on the margins...reduced to begging.

Jesus, however, sought to break down that idea.  He understood the causes of sickness to be far more complex.  In the story of the paralysed man, let down through the roof to be healed, (Luke 5) Jesus plays with these ideas in public.  First he says to the paralysed man "Your sins are forgiven" - demonstrating that he had the divine power to forgive sins.  But the man still lies on his stretcher, while Jesus disputes with the religious leaders whether or not it makes any difference to forgive sins, or to give healing.  Then, Jesus turns to the man "I tell you...get up, pick up your stretcher, and go home".  It was Jesus' words of healing which restored the man to health - not the forgiveness of sins (although that was freely offered too).

Sickness did not, in Jesus clear view, arise out of sin.  Sickness is not a punishment for sin...although it can certainly arise out of human sin in general...human greed, human refusal to pursue wisdom, science and medicine.  After being healed by Jesus, all people are able to be restored to human society.  Simon's mother-in-law is restored to her position as the senior woman of her household, and given the high privilege of serving her important guest.  Lepers are restored to their friends and family.  The blind are no longer reduced to begging at the side of the road.  This, for Jesus, is one of the signs of the Kingdom.  It's an echo of the words of his Mother in the Magnificat..."he has filled the hungry with good things...he has exalted the humble and meek".

Interestingly, in these days when we are far more aware of some of the causes of disease, we are in danger of giving in to the same blame-culture to that which Jesus tried to combat.  Now that medical science has given us reason to believe that low weight, moderate exercise, and the eating of 'five a day' are the cure for all ailments, we tend to blame people for their illness.

How often do we hear - or even, how often have you and I said, "It must be her fault.  She hasn't looked after herself”.  “I told her she should have stopped drinking, or smoking, or eating, or going out without a coat on...(or whatever!)."  We quickly blame people for their illness - attributing it to a sin on their part. When we do that, we fail to understand, unlike Jesus, that the causes of sickness are far more complex.

Our society is driven by massive marketing, consumerism, and the easy availability of sugar, alcohol and fat.  We live highly pressurised, stressed-out lives as we desperately to keep up with everyone around us.  How easy it is for us to point to someone else's illness and say "It's their fault...they didn't exercise enough - or they over-did their exercise.  They ate too much...or they didn't eat enough."  We seem to take a perverse delight in blaming people for their sickness...rather than understanding that people live they way they do because human life is messy, and living that way helps them to cope.

Jesus' response to the messiness of human suffering was profound.  First, he turned over the idea that sickness was linked to personal sin. But secondly, he also embraced human suffering itself.  By taking all that the society of his day could throw at him, even to the point of death on a Roman instrument of torture, Jesus entered fully into the messiness of human life.  This is, I think, part of what it means to say that Jesus took the sins of the world onto himself.  He took the messiness of human suffering onto the Cross.  He allowed human messiness it to overwhelm him to the point of dying because of it. Human messiness, human weirdness, human suffering, human pride, human greed...all of it was nailed onto the Cross with Jesus.

And then?

And then Jesus transcended it.  The story of the Resurrection is the story of how God has the power to transcend and overcome all human messiness.  Through the Resurrection, God offers us a powerful symbol of the way life can be.  New life - life lived to the full - puts suffering and messiness in the past.  Notice how, in the days after the resurrection, Jesus offers forgiveness even to Peter who denied him three times.  There is no room for blame and finger pointing in the Resurrection Kingdom.  Instead, blame and finger pointing give way to forgiveness and understanding.  Peter who denied Jesus (and therefore contributed to his suffering) was offered forgiveness, and a job to do ("Feed my sheep").  Like his own mother-in-law, Peter finds himself restored through healing and forgiveness to his proper role in society.

By the way, "My mother in law fell down a wishing well last week.  I was amazed.  I never knew they worked" (Les Dawson)

Sorry...couldn't resist that one.

So what might we take from this story, and from Jesus' attitudes towards sickness, and from his attitude towards the messiness of human lives?

Of all people, Christians should understand that sin - human messiness - is endemic.

And of all people...Christians, like Christ, should be willing to offer forgiveness and healing, whenever sin is encountered.  We are people who should understand that everyone messes up - because we ourselves mess up, all the time.

My friends, I have to tell you something.  I love this church, and I love its people.  I love the commitment you have to supporting each other when you are sick, or to fundraising, or to working in the Cafe, or singing in the choir. I love the way that many of you reach out to those who struggle to make sense of their lives in our community. I want us to be the kind of community which accepts, unreservedly, without any surprise whatsoever, that all human beings are messy.  Like Jesus, I want us to be those who simply understand that none of us is perfect.  Every single one of us is striving to be better, but we will often fall, often stumble, often mess up.  When we watch someone else stumble, I want us to be the kind of community which says to itself "before I criticise that person, I need to walk mile in their shoes".

I want us to be the kind of community which continually, constantly, offers forgiveness, healing and understand to each other...and indeed to ourselves.  Let's be the kind of community which offers understanding to those whose choices in life - fed by all sorts of unimaginable stresses - lead them to make, what seem to us to be strange decisions.  Let's be those who, when we find someone falling over, reach down and pick them up.  Let's be those who get on with being the kind of loving, understanding community that Christ calls us to be.

There is no room in Jesus' Kingdom for blame.  Jesus didn't blame Simon's mother-in-law for her illness, nor did he blame all the sick and the lame who came to him for help.  He reached out, and touched them with love.  He offered her healing, and restoration to the role she was called to play in life.

And he calls us to do the same.

Amen

Sunday, January 22, 2012

What Price Unity?


Titus 2.1-11

The Week of Prayer for Christian Unity is a good week for us to be meeting together.  Although we are all Anglicans here - as far as I know - we are Anglicans from various and different traditions.  A little later we will participate in Benediction, during which some of us will believe with all our hearts that we are somehow even more in the presence of Christ than we are at other times.  Others of us will be slightly bemused, and see the ceremony of Benediction only as a metaphorical guide to prayer.  Under this one roof, to my certain knowledge, are gathering tonight people whose Christian faith is best described as Catholic.  Others, have evangelical backgrounds, but might now describe themselves as 'central'.  Others have an interest in Orthodoxy - myself included.  Some like their music positively ancient...I know one choir member at least who considers anything newer than Mozart to be dangerously modern.  Others take real joy in singing the latest anthems of living composers, or even the odd upbeat, rock 'n' roll chorus!

This, for me, is the heart of what it means to be Anglican.  We belong to a church which systematically and deliberately attempts to be a communion in which people of different opinion, styles and preferences can nevertheless gather under one roof...all declaring a common belief in Jesus Christ.  We don't always get that right - and clearly there are huge tensions between us over issues like sexuality and the consecration of women bishops.  (Isn't it interesting that the primary issues which divide us are usually about sex?)

For many years, the Churches Together movement has been a beacon of hope to those who lament the divisions in the church around the world.  But, unfortunately, after 30 or more years, the flame of the Churches Together movement is beginning to wane.  Those who have spent half a lifetime or more desperately praying for the visible Unity of Christ's Church have, in many places, begun to wonder whether God is deaf to their prayers...or perhaps whether God has a different plan altogether in mind.  There remains, of course, a hard core of ecumenicalists who work hard to bring churches together in common worship and action - and I take my hat off to them for their diligence and commitment.  There are some great examples of projects out there in which churches of all hues combine their resources, time, and people for the common task of building the Kingdom.  Perhaps the best local example is the Churches Homeless Action Group, which this year raised nearly £14,000 from the churches of the city at Christmas.  The college at which most of our priests are trained by this Diocese - STETS in Salisbury - is a course which brings Anglicans together with Methodists and URC trainees, to learn from each other's experiences.

But, these wonderful pieces of work remain the exception rather than the rule.  The church remains divided, across the world, because we seem unable to give each other the benefit of the doubt over a wide range of doctrinal and ecclesiological issues.  Should the church be ruled from Rome?  Women bishops?  Gay Bishops? Gay people?  Where does our authority spring from - the Bible, or Tradition, or Reason, or Experience, or a combination of any two or more of those four. Styles of liturgy, the place of Mary, praying to the Saints, whether or not to follow a lectionary, or simply preach on what the Spirit suggests.  Hymns or choruses?  Organs or guitars?  Robes or everyday clothes?  The real meaning of the Eucharist...a simple memorial, or a transubstantiated real presence of Jesus, whose flesh we really eat as spiritual food.

And that's just for starters.  I could go on for a very long time.  And I imagine that for the world outside these doors...those who have not chosen to worship with us tonight, the very real temptation must be to proclaim, with Shakespeare, 'a plague on all your houses!'

Into this maelstrom of confusion comes tonight's reading from Paul's Letter to Titus.  It's a very short letter - only three chapters long, covering just a couple of pages...and it often gets overlooked.  But on this Sunday during the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, it has the capacity to speak volumes.

In the letter, Paul writes to Titus, whom he has appointed as the Bishop of the Island of Crete.  It is clear from Paul's text that he is very concerned about divisions which have already begun to erupt in the early Cretan church.  Paul describes the 'many rebellious people, idle talkers and deceivers' who, Paul says, 'must be silenced since they are upsetting whole families'. (Tit.1.10-11).  He goes on to describe them as those who 'profess God, but then deny him by their actions.  They are detestable, disobedient and unfit for any good work' (Ti.1.16)

What is Paul's remedy for this problem...this problem of rebellious factions?  His advice to Titus is essentially two fold:

First, as we heard in our reading, Paul encourages the Cretans to live Godly lives.  Men are to be 'temperate, serious, prudent, and sound in faith, in love and in endurance' (Ti. 2.2).  Paul then goes on, in the context of his time, to give others lists of good behaviour for women, (young and old), young men and even slaves.  Much of those lists might make us wince a little today....although I quite like the idea of young women having to be submissive to their husbands! (Ironic Joke!!).  But the underlying point which Paul makes is clear:  being a Christian means living in a way which becomes 'an ornament to the doctrine of God our Saviour' (Ti 2.10).  Our lives should be those which look like polished jewels - ornaments - on the crown of faith.  Put another way, as the Apostle James wrote in his letter, "Faith without works is dead" (Ja.2.26)

A Christian will be judged - by God and other people - not by what they say or profess, but by the kind of lives they lead.  Remember Paul's words to Titus...there are those who 'profess to know God, but they deny him by their actions'. (Ti.1.16)

Paul's second point to Titus is the most important of all, in the context of a discussion about Christian Unity. He says this, in chapter 3 of the letter:  "Avoid stupid controversies, genealogies, dissensions and quarrels about the law, for they are unprofitable and worthless." (Ti.3.9)  Paul goes on, even more forcefully..."have nothing more to do with anyone who causes divisions, since you know that such a person is perverted and sinful, being self-condemned". (Ti 3.11)

Wow.  Those are strong words.  "Have nothing more to do with anyone who causes divisions.  They are perverted and sinful."

These then should be our watchwords when dealing with any other Christian.  True Christians are judged by the kinds of lives they lead.  Paul encourages his readers to be those who are 'obedient, ready for every good work, speaking evil of no-one, avoiding quarrelling, being gentle and showing courtesy to everyone." (Ti.3.2).

That's why we are here tonight.  Even though some of us might have personal theological qualms about, for example, the ceremony of Benediction, out of gentleness and courtesy, we will kneel in contemplation before the Host when it is displayed, open to what God may show us through the practices of others.  

That is why we are Anglicans:  because out of a desire not to speak evil of anyone, and to avoid quarrelling, we will continue to worship side by side with people with whom we might profoundly disagree, for example, over whether or not a Priest or a Bishop can be a woman.

That is, ultimately, according to Paul, what defines us as Christians.  We are willing to lay aside quarrel and dissent, finding ways to respect and accommodate each other - so that we can focus on the heart of our calling - to be 'ornaments to the doctrine of God our Saviour' (Ti 2.10).

May we discover what it means to put our love for God, and our love for neighbour, above and before any doctrinal dissent.  May we, by our lives, be ornaments for God...those whose attractive, loving, gentle lives of service draw others into a living faith in Jesus Christ our Saviour.

If we could all do that, I believe that the issue of Christian Unity would quite simply take care of itself.

Amen

Water into Wine

John 2.1-11

So, there's this old priest, who over the years has become a bit of an alcoholic, right?  It's an occupational hazard, given all the wine we are supposed to finish up after communion!  Well, this old priest had to go on a long journey, and he couldn't face the prospect without a little tipple now and then along the road.  So, as he was driving along, he kept taking little nips from a bottle of gin on the passenger seat.  Unfortunately, after a few hours, his driving started to deteriorate - and he began swerving from side to side down the road, until he was pulled over by a policeman.  The priest wound down his window...

"What's the massher Occifer?"
"Father, I believe you are drunk at the wheel"
"Imposhible" said the priest.  Then the policeman pointed to the bottle on the passenger seat.
"What's in that bottle, Father?" he asked.
"Itsh water, Occifer.  Just water"
"Let me have a look" said the policeman, and the priest reluctantly passed him the bottle.  The policeman sniffed, and exclaimed,
"That's not water, Father, it's alcohol!" at which the Priest crossed himself, looked up to heaven and said,
"Jesush, you've done it again!"

I must ask you to forgive me.  Alcoholism is no joke.  As the members of Alcoholics Anonymous who meet here every Friday night will tell you, its a viscous disease, which has the capacity to take away everything of real value from ones life.  In that context, the story of Jesus turning water into wine - towards the end of a wedding feast - can be a little problematic!  After all, by the time that the wine already provided by the Host had run out, it's a fairly good bet that most of the guests would already have been very nicely oiled.  What on earth was Jesus doing making even more wine?  Was Jesus into drunkenness?  Or was Jesus perhaps pre-figuring the advice of St Paul so beloved by churchgoers who enjoy a visit to the pub at Sunday lunchtime..."thirst after righteousness"!?

This is where we have to be careful.  Frankly, we are on dangerous ground when we attempt to take many (if not most) biblical stories literally.  I have even heard stories of preachers who, convinced that every story must be taken literally, insisting that Jesus must have turned the water into grape-juice...just so that they can continue to hold on to the story as a literal fact.

Instead, as intelligent readers of Scripture, we are invited to go deeper...to seek to understand the meaning behind the story.  It particularly helps if we remember who wrote this story.  John clearly had a remarkable imagination...just a quick delve into the imagery of Revelation will tell you that.  But even more so, we need to remember John's purpose in writing his Gospel.  More than any of the other three Gospels, John goes to great length to tell us what Jesus' life and death means...what the core message is really all about.  To read the Gospel of John is to enter a world of symbols and rich, deep meaning.

Interestingly, none of the other Gospel writers bothered to record the miracle at Cana.  They were much more interested in healings and exorcisms.  But something in John's imagination resonated with Cana.  He saw, in Cana, a sign that pointed to the very purpose for which Christ had come into the world.  The wedding guests saw water turned into the best wine.  John saw a man who, in this first sign, revealed the very purposes of God.

It's perhaps worth remembering that only John records Jesus as saying, “I have come that they might have life and have it more abundantly.” (John 10.10)  This is what the miracle at Cana is all about.  Water, the basic necessity of life, is changed into wine--the symbol not just of life, but of abundant, joyous, and extravagant life.

Think about it.  Water is good. There is nothing wrong with water.  There is nothing which needed fixing in the water.  Why then should Jesus need to change it into wine?  The message of Cana is that Jesus doesn't only transform the bad into the good (like when he heals the sick or casts out a demon).  The message of Cana is that Jesus has the capacity to make the good even better!  That is one of most persistent themes of John's gospel.  Jesus hasn't only come to give life, but to give life 'abundantly'.

This, then, is the promise for those whose lives are already pretty good.  The transformation at Cana is the promise for those who are already heading in the right direction--those who have a basic trust in God, those who look out for their neighbour, who do what they can, when they can, to be good Samaritans. This is the message for those whose life is already like good, fresh water - nourishing, and life-sustaining.

There's a message here:  "enjoy the water...but taste the wine!" God doesn't call us to only live lives of duty and charity...as right as they are.  Yes, we should live by the commandments - but there’s more to following Jesus than simple obedience.  Remember what he said?  “I came that they might have life, and have it more abundantly.”  Not just life, but abundant life...joyous life...life lived in celebration and exuberance.

This doesn’t mean that God promises us each a Rolls Royce.  Neither does it mean that we will never experience pain and suffering.  But, it does mean that the good clean water of our lives can be transformed into the best wine through the love of God.  Then even the worst circumstances that life can offer can have a richness and depth that they never had before.  If we will only drink of the new wine of the Kingdom, Love can transform us, and bring meaning and richness to every human moment.

As we begin to taste the new wine of the Kingdom, we begin to look for God's capacity to transform and elevate even the most apparently awful of circumstances.  Sometimes, for example, I sit with sick and elderly people who despair of the fact that they now need others to do things for them.  Understandably, they mourn the loss of their independence, and resent the fact that they can do nothing on their own.  But then, I ask them,

"Tell me.  You have spent your entire life caring for others...your children, your friends in the church, your neighbours.  How did that feel?"  Invariably, the sick or housebound person will tell me, in so many words, that their service to others made them feel needed, wanted, and that they had a role in life.

"So," I tell them, in so many words, "isn't it time that you gave the gift of your incapacity to others?  Isn't it time that you let others feel needed and wanted - by caring for you?"

That's just a tiny example - but I think its a real example of how, if we will let it, Love has a way of pouring new wine even into difficult and tragic situations. Love has a way of helping us find new meaning, richer meaning, better, deeper taste.  The trick is to taste the wine.

Sometimes, we get fixed on a particular idea in life, don't we?  We make up our minds that we want a certain thing...a certain job perhaps, or a certain possession.  And when we don't get that job, or possess that thing, we can become listless, dry, even depressed - believing that our life will only be complete when we have achieved our goal.  But a Christian's joy is not found in achieving anything.  A Christian's joy is not found in the winning of a job, or the possession of any one thing.  A Christian finds their joy by learning that God is at work in every circumstance of life...changing water into wine.  Christians find their joy by declaring that 'Our God Reigns' whatever befalls us.  Christians find their joy in the exuberant celebration of each moment of life - trusting that God is present now, that Love is at work now.

What do people see when they look at our lives here at St Mark's?  Do they see that we have access to living water?  I hope so...and I pray that those who are thirsty will be drawn to the water of life by observing us.  But there are many who simply don’t feel thirsty.  I watch them walk past our doors every day.  They are living decent, even happy lives.  They are perfectly content.  So, what about the extra dimension?  Do our lives look like those of the servants of a God who turns water into the best wine?  Is the way we practice our faith something that turns water into wine or does it look more like turning wine into water?

I wonder...what would our lives look like...what would our church look like, if we let Jesus turn our water into wine?  Amen.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Called to service


John 1.43-end

A few years ago, someone bought me a copy of  Grumpy Old Christmas, which suited me down to the ground.    One evening, Clare was sitting alone in one room of our house, when Emily and I heard what we thought was crying coming from Clare's room.  We were both rather worried, so we looked around the door, and there was Clare, sitting on her bed, with tears of laughter rolling down her cheeks.  She waved my copy of 'Grumpy Old Christmas' in the air, and said "It's you!  It's you!"

Let me read you a paragraph from the book, by Stuart Prebble, just to see if you agree with Clare. In fact, I won't even read from the book...here's some of the blurb about the book from the dust-cover:

So...'tis the season to be jolly is it?  Well, not in the household of the Grumpy Old Man it isn't.  In the case of the Grumpy Old Man, 'tis the season to have to put up with even deeper layers of vexation than usual!  Everything about Christmas gets up our snitches.  Everything.  From the breakfast telly presenters who tell us it's now just 120 shopping days to go, to the annual festive strike by airport baggage handlers.  From parents videoing their precocious brats at the atrocious school nativity play where your kid is playing the part of the donkey's rear end, to the woman next door who drops in to show your wife the gigantic diamond ring her idiot of a husband has bought her.  From the 150th opportunity to see 'the Wizard of Oz' on the Tele, to the Xmas turkey which tastes like blotting paper soaked in a puddle.  And how on earth are we really supposed to look happy when someone buys us a Tie with a picture of flipping Santa on it?!  Eh?

Now if I'm honest, I suppose I have to admit it.  I know it will surprise all of you, immensely, but yes, I am a bit of a Grumpy.  There's something about life which brings out the cynic in me.  So I know exactly where Nathaniel was coming from, in today's reading, when he responded to Philip's news about the Messiah having been discovered in the form of Jesus of Nazareth.  "Huh", said Nathaniel.  "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?".  Nazareth was just a humble little back-water...nowhere important, nowhere posh.  It was full of hard working people, many of whom - probably like Joseph the Carpenter - were working to build the near-by Roman city of Sephoris.  The residents of Nazareth were employed in Sephoris in much the same way as the residents of Portsmouth were historically employed in the dock-yard.

I guess that some of us would have pretty much the same reaction if we were told that the Saviour of the World had been discovered in North End.  "North End?!" we might exclaim.  "Can anything good come out of North End".

When Jesus met Nathaniel, he recognised a true and upright man...despite his cynicism about Nazareth.  Nathaniel was clearly someone who was open to new possibilities, however, cynical he appeared.  He was willing to go with Phillip to meet this Jesus of Nazareth...and Jesus saw something in him.  As he approached, Jesus said of him "Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit".  Jesus saw great potential in Nathaniel.  Rising into massive poetry, Jesus said that Nathaniel "will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man".  Jesus uses an Old Testament image - the image of 'Jacob's Ladder' to say that Nathaniel will be part of God's great plan to touch earth with the power of heaven.  The picture of ‘angels ascending and descending’ is meant to help us see that God is active and alive in God’s world.

We are those who, by the grace of God, have glimpsed the possibility that there is more to life than the simple hum-drum.  We are those who chose to say 'no' to the encroaching darkness of so much human life.  We are those who declare that we believe God has other plans. There are angels ascending and descending on the Son of Man.   That's why we are here, isn't it?  Week by week, day by day, we pray the words that Jesus taught us "thy kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven", and in doing so we declare our belief that God is reaching out to touch this dying earth with his living love.  We are those who have learned to see the world with God's eyes...not just a place of terror, war, famine and plague...but a place full of possibility for life, health, peace and justice.  We are those who long for the kingdom to be established on earth as it is in heaven.

We are the people who have an answer to the big question...why am I here? Why are we here?  To be the people through whom God brings about the transformation of the world.  It has sometimes been said that Jesus rose into heaven for one reason:  so that no-one could doubt that he calls us to do God's work on earth. Jesus has no other hands than your hands, no other feet than your feet.  If words of comfort to the sick and dying are to be spoken, then they are spoken through you.  If words of hope to the lost and the lonely are to be said, than it is through your lips that God wants to say them. That's why we talk about being the 'Body of Christ' - we, you and I, are God's hands, feet and loving hands to a dying world.

Jesus called Nathaniel to a new way of living - a way of living which turned away from cynical disengagement with the world - "Can anything good come out of Nazareth" - to a new way of living with his eyes wide open to the activity of God.  Jesus calls you, and me, to that same vision.

You see, in answer to the question ‘can anything good come out of North End, let me tell you…it jolly well does!  Everyday I see good happening in North End.  Every day I see people like you, deciding to rise above the dull monotony of so much human existence, and refusing to give in to cynicism.  I see people like you giving money to help those who are in need.  I see people like you deciding not to give in to the urge to lay in bed on Sundays, but choosing instead to come and be part of the community which meets under this roof.  I see people like you giving their time to serving in the community cafe, or to visiting the sick, or spending time with the lonely, or singing in the choir (bringing beauty into this otherwise empty space) or cleaning and maintaining this building for the benefit of everyone who uses it.

But perhaps you are already working full-time, and perhaps trying to bring up a family too.  That doesn't mean that you don't have a calling from God.  Bringing up a family is a calling from God.  Working as a productive member of society is a calling from God.  Perhaps you are being called to be the one person in your workplace who holds on to the vision that God wants to touch earth with heaven.  Perhaps you are the one teacher – or child - in the school, or the one worker in the factory, to whom everyone else turns when times are tough, because you offer them loving understanding.  Perhaps all you are able to do is give some of the money you earn so that others have the resources to help the homeless, the beaten, the downtrodden by life.

Last year, our Bishop launched what he calls our 'Ministry for Mission' strategy.  It’s summarised in the cards in your pews today.  Here are three simple propositions from our Bishop:

"FACT:  All baptised Christians have gifts and we all have a calling.  All ministry is collaborative, for lay and ordained."  That's another way of saying that any church which thinks that its Vicar is the only worker is a church on the way to closing!  All of us are called to co-operate with God in bringing heaven to earth.

Second, "THINK:  What are your gifts?  What does God want you to do with them?

Third:  "ACT:  Collaborative ministry starts with you and me.  How will you take part in God's mission?

This is your invitation - the same invitation which Jesus gave to Nathaniel...an invitation to use God's gifts together to see His kingdom grow!  Yes…even in North End!  Amen.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Christmas Message

Christmas Message 2011

This has been quite a year, hasn't it?

In the Middle East, the so-called Arab Spring has brought about an earthquake in politics. In New Zealand there were real earthquakes, while in the UK our summer streets exploded into riots. In Europe, the Euro-zone countries are in crisis.    Floods in the Philippines, civil war in the Ivory Coast.  In Russia, Vladimir Putin is accused of rigging elections.  In the Western World, bankers are are getting ludicrously rich while homelessness and poverty is on the rise at least partly because of their greed.  America withdraws from Iraq...which quickly plunges into political chaos.  Refugees are flooding across borders all over the world...desperately seeking a better life.

And that's just for starters....

But you know all this.  You watch the news, like me.  I wouldn't be surprised if, by now, you are wondering what the Vicar going on about?!  We didn't come to church to hear about politicians and war-mongers, bankers and natural disasters did we?.  We've come to church to hear lovely things which make us feel good inside.

But perhaps that's the problem...especially the problem with how we have told ourselves the Christmas story.  At the centre of the story is a baby...yes - and some sheep and camels, and a manger full of sweet-smelling hay.  How quickly we forget the rest of the story, though!

We forget that Jesus was born in an occupied country, governed by the most powerful and war-like Empire the world had yet known.  We forget that the story of a baby born in Bethlehem is the story of a baby born homeless, in an animal's food trough.  We forget that within months of his birth, the local warlord, King Herod, had ordered the slaughter of all male babies in Bethlehem - because he was afraid of losing political power.  We forget that just after his birth, Jesus and his parents had to flee for their lives - becoming political refugees themselves.

There are other aspects of the story we forget too.  We forget that Mary was an unmarried, teenage mother.  We forget that Shepherds - the first visitors on the scene - were thought of as 'the scum of the earth' to much of society.  And we forget that this story which begins with the birth of a baby, will end up with the cruel death of a God-filled man, nailed to a cross by the political and religious powers of his day.

No, my friends, we dare not take this Christmas story lightly.  And we must not assume that our world is any different to the world into which Jesus was born.  Because that is precisely the point.  In the babe of Bethlehem, God enters our world.  The underlying story of the Christ Mass is that God comes to us in the middle of all the chaos.  Surprisingly, God is at work in the middle of all the muddle.

How can this be?  How can God be at work when there is obviously so much horror out there?

An animal's food-trough is a surprising place to find God...but there are many other places where we find that God has been startlingly at work...in hospices and prisons, for example.  In school classrooms, and loving families.  In our community cafe here at St Mark's, and in day-care centres and play groups.  God has been at work in campaigns for global justice, and in the work of Christian Aid and a thousand other relief organisations.  God is at work in lives which are poured out in the service of others, all around the globe - in the lives of men and women who are committed to being peace-keepers of all kinds.  God is at work among the Churches Homeless Action Group in Portsmouth, and in the dedication of social workers, nurses, and doctors, serving the needs of drug addicts and prostitutes.  God is at work in the Portsmouth Women's Refuge, and the Haslar Centre for Refugees.

Everywhere that there is love...Christ is born today.  Every time that a weapon is laid down, and reconciliation is sought, Christ is born today.  Every time that the mighty are brought down from their seat, the words of the Angels come true.

And that's why we are here.  In the middle of night, in the middle of the darkness, we proclaim that there is light, after all.  In the middle of the darkness of the World, in the middle of political and economic chaos, we proclaim that Christ is present...that God remains at work among us.

So, sing choirs of Angels...sing in exultation.  Christ is born today!

Amen






 

Sunday, December 4, 2011

St Nicholas


Sermon for the Feast of St Nicholas

I wonder if everyone here knows who St Nicholas is.  What are some of the names that he is called?  Here’s a clue – for those who don’t already know…in some countries, he is known as “Santa Niclaus” – Santa being a Spanish form of the word Saint.  Sometimes Santa Niclaus gets shortened to “Santa ‘Claus”.    Yes, St Nicholas is the person we know as Father Christmas!  And this is Father Christmas’ Church!
There are lots and lots of traditions concerning St Nicholas – and I’m sure you’ve heard many of them here over the years.  But it’s perhaps worth recapping some of them.

It’s fascinating to see how St Nicholas is celebrated differently, in different parts of the world.  In many places St. Nicholas is the main gift giver. His feast day, St. Nicholas Day, is December 6, which falls early in the Advent season. Some places he arrives in the middle of November and moves about the countryside, visiting schools and homes to find out if children have been good. Other places he comes in the night and finds carrots and hay for his horse or donkey along with children's wish lists. Small treats are left in shoes or stockings so the children will know he has come.

Where St. Nicholas is prominent, his day, not Christmas, is the primary gift-giving day.   Instead of gathering to give presents on Christmas Day, like we do, parties are held on the eve, December 5th, and shoes or stockings left for St. Nicholas to fill during the night. Children then find treats of small gifts, fruit or nuts, and special Nicholas candies and cookies.

One vital difference between the way we receive gifts, in England, and the way that others do it, is that St. Nicholas gifts are meant to be shared, not hoarded for oneself.  Whatever little treats St Nicholas brings – sweets, nuts, fruit, candies – these are to be shared, around the whole family.

We have an icon of St Nicholas in this church, as you know.  It was painted by our good friend Carmen Orastean, who is a Romanian.  In Romania, St Nicholas’ Day is a very great festival.  On the night of December 5th, boots are cleaned and carefully polished to be put by the door or on the windowsill to wait for St. Nicholas' (Sfantul Nicolae) visit. He is generous to adults as well as children, putting a little present in each boot—usually nuts, tangerines, sweets and small items, like new socks. In some areas a walnut branch or thin twigs with gold, silver, or bronze gilded walnuts are left as a warning that behaviour needs to improve.  On the sixth of December, gifts are given to friends, children, and those in need. It is one of the most important Romanian holidays.

More than 800,000 Romanians  are called Nicholas, Nicolae or Nicola – or other variations of his name.  They all celebrate their name day on St. Nicholas day, December 6th.   Over 1000 churches are dedicated to St. Nicholas in Romania, at least 23 are in Bucharest.

It’s worth knowing about some of these traditions – because perhaps they help us to see the our own traditions in a new light.  Perhaps they might even make us think a little about the way we have celebrated Christmas, for the last few decades.  Everyone I meet agrees that we have become far too obsessed with presents, and that Christmas has become too expensive.  And yet, no-one seems to be able to stop.  We all feel under pressure to keep up with everyone else’s idea of what Christmas should be.  The stories about St Nicholas from other countries encourage us to see Christmas as something a little more simple.  A small gift, here and there – a bar of chocolate, a bag of nuts.  Nothing too elaborate.  Just enough to send a message of love.

Of course we all know what it’s like.  You go to Toyz R Us, and you buy the biggest present you can find.  On Christmas morning, you watch the eyes of your child go wide at the possibilities of what might be inside.  Then, the wrapping is torn off, and the child is encouraged to explore the contents.  “Look”, says you, “There’s a complete play-kitchen in here.  There’s a cooker, and some saucepans, and some pretend fruit.  There’s a little chair and table, and a pretend sink for washing up.  Look, there’s a pretend iron and ironing board…so you can do the ironing….just like Daddy!”

But the child has other ideas.  “Look”, says the child, “There’s a great big empty box!  It could be a house, or a castle, or a motor-boat, or a car, or a bed.  It’s fantastic.”  So for the rest of the day, Daddy spends his time assembling small pieces of plastic which his child will never play with, while his child is happily sitting in the box, going “Brummm….brummm”.

St Nicholas invites us to use our imaginations.  St Nicholas himself became famous because he was known as a generous giver.  He understood how much God had given to him – life, health, friends, a community to live in.  And out of his gratitude, St Nicholas wanted to give something back.

There are many famous stories about St Nicholas.  The most famous tells of a poor man with three daughters. In those days a young woman's father had to offer prospective husbands something of value— called a dowry.  The larger the dowry, the better the chance that a young woman would find a good husband.  Without a dowry, a woman was unlikely to marry.  This poor man's daughters, without dowries, were therefore destined to be sold into slavery.  Mysteriously, on three different occasions, a bag of gold appeared in their home-providing the needed dowries. The bags of gold, tossed through an open window, are said to have landed in stockings or shoes left before the fire to dry. This led to the custom of children hanging stockings or putting out shoes, eagerly awaiting gifts from Saint Nicholas. Sometimes the story is told with gold balls instead of bags of gold. That is why three gold balls, sometimes represented as oranges, are one of the symbols for St. Nicholas. And so St. Nicholas is known as a gift-giver.

In France the story is told of three small children, wandering in their play until lost, lured, and captured by an evil butcher.  In the French story, St. Nicholas appears and appeals to God to return them to life and to their families. And so St. Nicholas is the patron and protector of children.

Several stories tell of Nicholas and the sea.  For example, when he was young, Nicholas made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. There as he walked where Jesus walked, he sought to more deeply experience Jesus' life, passion, and resurrection. Returning by sea, a mighty storm threatened to wreck the ship. Nicholas calmly prayed. The terrified sailors were amazed when the wind and waves suddenly calmed, sparing them all. And so St. Nicholas is the patron of sailors and voyagers – so a pretty good Saint to have in a town like Portsmouth – and that’s why one of his symbols is a ship (as shown in our stained glass window).

Something that is consistent about all these stories is that Nicholas was someone who constantly looked for ways to help and encourage other people.  Responding to God’s love, Nicholas wanted to share that love wherever he could.  He was constantly on the look-out for ways to help other people.  And his stories encourage us to think in similar ways.

Look, let me encourage you.  Let me encourage you to think like St Nicholas, this Christmas.  In a short while, many of us are going to give gifts which will be given to children throughout the City who otherwise wouldn’t get a present this year.  For that, I am very very grateful – and I’m sure that St Nicholas is too.  But there is one gift that every single one of us can give this year, a gift which can be given and received all through the year. It’s the gift of a question…

Here’s the question…”What can I do for you?”.  Mummy, you’ve been cooking all day.  What can I do for you?  Daddy, you’ve been ironing all morning…what can I do for you?  Neighbour…you haven’t spoken to anyone today…what can I do for you?  Homeless person, sitting in the shop doorway in North End…what can I do for you?  Starving person I’ve seen on the TV, whose crops have failed or been washed away…what can I do for you?

There’s another little thing that St Nicholas can teach us.  St Nicholas is never seen.  If we try to stay awake, to see him coming down the chimney…he won’t come.  St Nicholas always gives his gifts in secret.  He gives what we might call ‘random acts of kindness’.  He gives in secret, without expecting any reward…though I know he’s always grateful for a glass of brandy and a mince pie for the reindeer!  But he gives without looking for thanks – he spreads a little happiness as he goes by.

There are some lovely stories out there about Random Acts of Kindness.  There’s the story of a woman in America who was going through a Starbuck’s Drive-In, on her way to work.  It was a cold, grey morning, and she really didn’t want to go to work.  When she got to the window, a little bit of sunshine broke out when the assistant gave her a cup of coffee, and said “It’s paid for, already”.  It turned out that the taxi driver in front of her had paid for her coffee.  The assistant explained “He does it every day, for one person”.

There are lots of random acts of kindness done in this parish too.  Those of you who have brought presents today…thanks for the act of kindness.   Those of you who are buying vouchers for the homeless – for people you will never meet…thank you for the random act of kindness.  Those of you who filled up Shoeboxes for the annual shoebox appeal  - thankyou.  Those who gave to the Harvest appeal for food, or money for the Bungokho centre in Uganda – thank you.  Those of you who give regularly, sacrificially, to the work of the church…St Nicholas would be proud of all of you.

And doesn’t it feel good?  Doesn’t it feel great to know that today, your life counted for something?  Today, you helped another human being a little further along their journey – however tough that  journey has been.
Jesus taught us that it is giving that we receive.  By giving out, we receive back a thousand fold – especially in that deep sense that today, we know we have made a difference.

St Nicholas stands as an example.  According to all the legends, he is the giver who is never seen…and who is yet loved by all.  That’s not a bad example for any of us to follow.
Amen.