Take up your Cross

Mark 8: 31-end.

HEALTH WARNING…the first four paragraphs are a parody…to be read in a phoney American accent!

I have great pleasure in announcing that from today, we are changing our name.  From now on, we will be known as the "Havant Branch of the Church of the Blessings of the Almighty Saviour Jesus ".  Why is this? Well let me tell you, brothers and sisters. Last night, I had a vision! The Lord God Almighty spoke to me from the heavens. He said to me...

"Rector", he said, "Rector - I have good news for you! I want to shower you and your congregation with abundant blessings. (Praise the Lord!) I am going to make yours a church of millionaires! You are going to become so wealthy, so full of miracles, so full of powerful acts of God Almighty, that the whole of Havant will flock to your doors!

All your congregation has to do is to show that they trust me. They simply have to sign over the deeds to their houses to the church. Then I will know that they trust me. Then I will bless them with riches from heaven. Then they will become millionaires, and all their problems will disappear". (Praise the Lord!)

So, my brothers and sisters, our Treasurer, Sister Shelley, will be standing by, at the ready, with forms for you to sign. Just sign over the deeds of your house to the church, and the Lord God Almighty, in the glorious name of Jesus, will give you your heart's desire! A-men, brothers and sisters. A-men!

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It's a bit frightening to think that there really are churches like that in the world.  They feed on people's misery. They create an image of the world which is so pumped up with future hope, that gullible people really do believe that God is in the business of making them wealthy...but they are tricked into making their preachers wealthy instead.  Hmmm…perhaps I’m in the wrong branch of the church?!

According to today’s Gospel text, modern-day prosperity preachers are not the first people to have got the wrong end of the stick. This text comes at a pivotal point in Mark's gospel. Up until this chapter, which comes right in the middle of the gospel, Jesus' disciples have seen him doing all sorts of amazing things. He drives out evil spirits, heals and feeds the multitudes; he’s even walked on water. But now, in this passage, the whole trajectory of Jesus' life and ministry turns...it pivots, towards Jerusalem, and to the incomprehensible scandal of the Cross.

Verse 31: "He began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected...and be killed".(Mk 8:31). You can just imagine Peter's reaction can't you? He probably thinks that Jesus has gone nuts.  Perhaps the Messiah has been working too hard?  So he rebukes Jesus. Matthew's gospel gives us the words that Mark doesn't record: "Never, Lord" he said. "This shall never happen to you!" (Matt 16:22)

But Jesus is adamant. He tells Peter off with really startling words: "Get behind me, Satan!" Pretty stern stuff.  And then Jesus goes on, in verse 33: "You are setting your mind not on divine things, but on human things". In other words, "You are thinking like a man, but by now you should be starting to think as God thinks...to see things from God's perspective".

Anyone confronted with the idea of suffering might well react as Peter reacts. After all, God can heal, can't he? Jesus' many miracles are proof that God does not delight in suffering.  And yet, somehow, for reasons we might only be able to guess at, suffering enters into God's plan for humanity.  It's there. It was there for Jesus, who suffered on the cross.  It was there for the many whom Jesus encountered but did not heal.  Suffering, somehow, is part of the plan. Christians who are fixated on the Jesus of the miracles have missed out on the suffering Jesus of the Cross.

But that is precisely whom we are confronted with in this text. Jesus had to suffer...it was part of the divine plan.  But Jesus says that suffering is part of the package for us too..."anyone who wants to follow me must deny himself, and take up his cross".(Mark 8:34

Let's notice that there are, in fact, two elements to Jesus stark statement: we are called first to 'deny self', and secondly, to 'take up our cross'. Let's look at those in turn.

First - what does it mean to 'deny self'?

To deny self, when you think about it, is actually about putting others first.  It's a way of living that always looks out for other people. It's a way of living which never asks "what's in it for me?" but rather "what's in it for my neighbours, and for the Kingdom of God?".  Think about this:  if Jesus had asked himself 'what's in it for me?' before embarking on his ministry, he would never have got beyond his baptism.  We too are called to live that way...to live generously…

…And to live lightly upon the earth.  The son of man had nowhere to lay his head.  To deny self, is also about learning to let go of the things we shackle ourselves with – learning that true contentment is not found in great wealth, but in great relationships, with God and neighbour.  There’s a saying among a certain group of rich people which indicates something of the contemporary mindset about wealth:   “He who dies with the most toys, wins”. 

Nothing of course could be further from the truth.  “You fool”, says God in Jesus parable of the farmer with massive barns.  “This very night, your life will be required of you”.  You can’t take any of it with you.  Jesus says:  “Deny yourself.  Build up treasure that thieves cannot break in and steal.  Build up treasure for heaven”.

Secondly, what did Jesus mean by saying we have to take up our cross?

A while ago, I spent time with a parishioner in my previous parish who had become very frail – let’s call her Lucy.   Lucy had spent all her life serving others through the church. She had been at coffee mornings and fundraisers, and served on the PCC, and made endless cups of tea. She had truly denied herself for others.  And yet, Lucy now found herself frail, bed-bound, and unable to serve others anymore. She even had to rely on others to help her to the bathroom.

Lucy’s body was failing her.  But her mind was as sharp as a razor – and she was a thinker.  She said something very profound to me.  She said "perhaps God is teaching me that there was still a bit of pride in me.  I’m learning that I need to let others serve me for a change. Perhaps I'm learning that in the end, we all must rely on God, and on other people.  That none of us can exist in isolation."

I was intensely moved by what Lucy said.  After a life-time of Christian faith God was still teaching her something deep, something profound, about our need for each other, and for God.  There was, for Lucy at least, a purpose in her suffering.  She learned to gladly take up her cross, for what it would teach her and others.

Jesus own suffering clearly had purpose too. But I find it interesting that the Gospels themselves don't provide a definitive answer to why Jesus had to suffer. The task of interpretation is one that was left to later writers, like St Paul - and other great thinkers of the Church.  All that Mark says on the subject, in today's reading, is that Jesus taught his disciples "that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering" (Mark 8:31). The task of working out why is something that Jesus leaves to his Church. We continue to grapple with it...just as we grapple with the reasons for our own suffering, or the suffering of martyrs across the centuries, and even now in other lands.

We continue to grapple - but we also continue to trust...that denying self, and taking up our own cross - participating in our own suffering and the suffering of the world is an essential, central message that is right at the heart of the Gospel.

May you come to know the power of God that is often revealed in suffering. May you come to know the power of denying self, and taking up the cross that is offered to you.  May you come to know that God's power is so often revealed in and through weakness - our own weakness, as well as the weakness of those we encounter.

And it’s alright…you don’t have to sign over the deeds of your house to Shelley!

Amen

Children and Dogs - the Syrian Woman

Mark 7: 24-37  and James 2.1-17

Insults. I like insults. I confess it. There is nothing quite so pleasing to an old cynic like me than a well-crafted insult.

Take, for example, the anecdotal tale about Sir Winston Churchill. Once, at a party, he is said to have been approached by one Elizabeth Braddock, who exclaimed "Mr Churchill, you are drunk!" Churchill is said to have replied, "Madam, you are ugly. However, come the morning, I will be sober but you will still be ugly."Priceless, isn't it?

In my own family, we have two favourite expressions. If one of us does something stupid (usually me) we get called a 'plant-pot'. Don't ask me why...it just works. "You plant-pot!".

But these are all in good fun. Everyone understands the rules...and no-one is offended. We all know, though, don't we, that insults can easily cross the line between gentle playful fun, and downright hurt and offence.

Certain words have the power to wound...for all sorts of reasons. Which is why it is quite surprising that in today's Gospel we should hear Jesus describing the non-Jewish races around him as 'dogs'. In the Middle East, calling someone a dog has always been a gross insult. And yet, when a Syro-Phoenician woman comes to Jesus to ask for healing for her daughter, Jesus' response is 'it’s not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs'.

Jesus appears to be saying that his ministry, his power, his gifts, are meant only for the people of Israel - not for anyone else.

What a shock! What an insult! To the woman in question, it would have been like me saying that only people of my race can come to this church.  What Jesus said was, on the face of it, a racist statement.

But when we read the Bible, we have to be very very careful. It is too easy to take individual quotes from pages of the Bible, and then to use them to justify our own position on something. There are three words which must always be in our minds when we read the Scriptures: context, context, context!

Only a few pages earlier, in verse 8 of Chapter 3, Mark reports that many people came to hear Jesus from all around the area surrounding Galilee - including the towns of Tyre and Sidon which were well known Gentile cities. There is no sign that Jesus tried to send those Gentiles away...in fact he preached God's good news to them as much as to the Jews from Jerusalem and Galilee.

In Chapter 5, Jesus heals the man called Legion, who was said to have many demons inside of him. This man was also a Gentile... living in a region which kept the pigs into which the demons were sent, over a cliff. (As I'm sure you know, Jews would never keep pigs).

At the end of Mark's Gospel, (16:15) Jesus commands his disciples to "Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation".

So the immediate context of Mark's gospel tells us that Jesus was happy to preach to non-Jews, happy to heal them.  He clearly wanted all peoples to know about God.

And that theme is repeated throughout the Gospels. There is a wider context too. John's Gospel, chapter 4, records Jesus' conversation with a Samaritan woman. That was an astounding thing for Jesus to do.  Men of Jesus' time would hardly ever have spoken to a woman in public...let alone a divorced Samaritan woman!

So - let's break down the evidence. First we've got ample scriptural evidence that Jesus was anything but a racist. But then, we've got scriptural and historical evidence that the people all around Jesus pretty much hated each other. So...with that evidence before us...what are we to make of Jesus statement about children and dogs?

Again, I want to drive you back to context. Do you remember what Jesus was up to in the earlier pages of Mark's Gospel? Do you remember how the crowds followed him for all the wrong reasons? Do you remember his theological battles with the Pharisees and Sadducees? He is opposed by his own religious leaders, doubted by his family, followed often for all the wrong reasons by the crowd, accompanied by disciples who only partially understand.

At the beginning of this particular story – about the Syro-Phoenician woman, Mark tells us that after all these battles, Jesus went off to the city of Tyre - some distance from Galilee. He entered a house and, according to Mark, "did not want anyone to know it". Mark presents us with a Jesus in retreat...trying to get away from it all for a while...needing to get his head together in a quiet place without crowds all around him asking for another miracle.

Then along comes this woman - a Gentile - who asks Jesus for another miracle, a miracle of healing for her daughter. Weighed down by the difficulties of his mission, tired, worn-out, it seems to me that Jesus actually appears to snap.  One can imagine him, frustrated that he is not getting through to his own people, saying to himself "I need to focus on Israel...I need to get them to understand before we can take this message any further". He gropes for a metaphor. Tired, he turns to the woman and sighs "First let the children eat all they want...".

Notice the use of the word "first". Jesus' reply doesn't exclude the Gentiles...he simply states that as a Jew, from a nation of Jews, through whom God has chosen to bring salvation to the world - Jesus needs to focus on the Jews first.

Then comes the difficult line: "for it is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to the dogs". It's a metaphor. Jesus is trying to soften his automatic response.  In fact, although we translate the word here as 'dogs', scholars tell us that Jesus used a word which referred to household pets. It was a diminutive form of the word for dogs. A playful word. More like a puppy than a fully grown Rottweiler!

But the woman is more than a match for the tired, worn-out Jesus. And she's desperate to get Jesus to change his mind. So she spars with him. "Yes Lord", she replies...accepting for a moment the idea of the Gentiles as being his second priority. "Yes Lord, but even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs".

You can almost see Jesus laughing at this point. You can see him acknowledging that he was wrong to not give his help immediately...and smiling that the woman had so cleverly turned his own metaphor against him.  Mark tells us that then he told her "For such a reply, you may go: the demon has left your daughter".

So what have we learned from this story - and from this bit of bible-study we've been doing together?

First, we've seen something of Jesus' humanity. We sometimes forget that Jesus was human, as much as he was God. He felt the cold, like we do. He felt hunger, like we do. He felt tired, and stressed, and worn-out like we do. And, like we do, when he was tired and stressed, he was capable of getting things wrong.

There is no sin involved in getting something wrong. Jesus was not sinning when he thought that he should not help this woman. He was simply, for a moment, in error. For Jesus to have sinned, he would have had to continue in his error, after it had been made clear to him.

The same goes for us. It is not sinful in itself to hold a wrong opinion. But it would be sinful to continue steadfastly holding that opinion in the face of revealed truth.  When strong science, or  the Holy Spirit, reveal to us that an opinion we hold is simply wrong, we sin when we refuse to change our mind – to repent, to turn around, to face in the new direction of truth.

Secondly, I think this story reminds us to have some patience with each other when we sometimes get things wrong.  It’s good to recognise that we are all human… that we can all mis-speak from time to time...and being always ready to forgive and move on in our relationships with one another.

How different that approach is from the approach of so many in our society. One wrong word, one misplaced phrase can be quoted back to us for the rest of our lives. Families get broken up and destroyed because of a wrong word at the wrong time...because some people seem to almost enjoy feeling insulted. They revel in it...and take a sort of warped pleasure at being at war. Nations go to war with each other because of an insult cast by one politician towards another. Just think, for example, what harm was done by George Bush when he referred to a whole family of nations as being part of an 'axis of evil'. Words do matter. Words can hurt. But forgiveness is stronger. Forgiveness is holy. Forgiveness is worth pursuing.

Finally, I need to say this:  there is a final sharp irony about this story being read on this particular Sunday.  The Syro-Phoenician woman came from an area of the Middle East which is broadly the same as modern-day Syria.  As we sit in comfort around our Sunday dinner tables today, perhaps we will spare a thought for the modern-day Syrians…including those who are walking from Budapest to Germany at this very moment, and those who have set off in leaky tubs across the Mediterranean.  Could it perhaps be said of us, the children of Europe, that we are in danger of only throwing scraps to the poor ‘dogs’ of Syria?

If that is indeed what we think, in the face of all the teaching of Scripture about welcoming the stranger and giving protection to the alien in our land, then we sin.  And God help us if we treat the children of Syria like dogs.  

Let me conclude by letting the words of the the Letter of James ring in our ears:  "What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works?  Can faith save you?  If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, 'Go in peace:keep warm and eat your fill', and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that?  So faith by itself, it it has no works, is dead."

Amen.

VJ Day Sermon 2015

Sermon on the 70th Anniversary Commemoration of VJ Day - August 16th 2015

War is, without doubt, the most destructive force on our planet.  Forget earthquakes, hurricanes and volcanoes.  Their destructive power – though often immense for a few hours – pales into insignificance against the destructive power of war.  The destruction of cities, the millions of victims of any world-wide conflict, the destruction of whole economies and entire races of human beings – these are just some of the effects of war.

Nuclear war cranks up the destructive potential to an even greater height.  It was Albert Einstein, reflecting on the pure destructive potential of the weapon he helped to create who said, “I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.”  He understood that a worldwide nuclear war had the potential to push the human race back into the Stone Age.

And yet, War is an inevitable and, it seems, ever-present aspect of human nature.  So, what can we learn from the wars of the past (let alone the wars of today)?   On this 70th anniversary of the surrender of Japan, perhaps it is worth a look at the causes of that particular conflict.

Between 1928 and 1932, Japan faced domestic crisis.  The Great Depression which affected the whole world also affected Japan.  There were spiralling prices, economic collapse, unemployment, falling exports and social unrest.  In November 1930, the Prime Minister of Japan was shot by an ultra-nationalist.  In 1932, the army tried to assassinate the next Prime Minister, and ultimately the military seized control of the country.  Between 1932 and 1936, admirals ruled Japan.  Confident and arrogant, they believed that the whole of Asia should be ruled by them – as a way out of economic collapse.  China was invaded, and in response, in 1941, the United States announced a punitive oil embargo.  For the Japanese leaders, that move was a perfect pretext for war, unleashed in December 1941 with the Pearl Harbour attack.

The rest, as they say, is history – including the history that some here today, like Bill Marshall and Govan Easton lived through in all its horror.  But it is the history behind the history from which we need to learn.  The conditions which prompted the rise of the Japanese military machine are similar to those that led to the rise of Hitler, half a world away.  Market forces in crisis, spiralling debt, unemployment and poverty – however caused.  It is when economies go bad that people look to extremist leaders for solutions.

That is, of course, precisely why so many people in the Middle East are following the mad mullahs of ISIL today.  Have you seen how they live?  Have you seen the poverty of shanty towns, unemployment on a massive scale, lives shackled by debt owed to Western banks and institutions?  People who are downtrodden by debt and poverty look for someone to blame.  It is not hard for their leaders to point the finger at us, with all our stored up wealth.  All that ISIL then has to do is remind their followers that many Americans and British people are Christians – and a war about economics quickly becomes a war about faith.  People will blow themselves up for a belief.  They will fly into skyscrapers for the promise of heaven.

War is what happens when language fails, and when we focus our angst, our fears, our problems on some other easily identified group.  For the Nazis, it was the Jews.  For the Japanese, it was the ‘evil Americans’ and their allies.  Today, for billions of people throughout the world, the West is perceived as ‘the great Satan’.  To those who live in abject poverty, shanty towns and starvation, we who live in relative comfort with our bank accounts and shares are seen as the problem.  Our apparent refusal to share our wealth, our insistence on closed borders, our pre-occupation with pleasure-seeking, these are all hated by the rest of the world in their misery and poverty.

Of course, our own perspective is entirely different.   Today, we give thanks for 70 years of peace in our own land.  For us at home, life has been peaceful.  We have been able to go about quietly building our society, largely without the fear of doodle-bugs or other bombs dropping onto us.

But in fact, such peace at home is largely an illusion.  British Troops have been involved in wars all over the planet – since 1945.  Many of you will remember such wars – many of you have even fought in them.  Greece, Malaya, Korea, Egypt, Kenya, Cyprus, Indonesia, Dhofar, Aden, Nigeria, Northern Ireland, the Falklands, Lebanon, the Gulf War, Bosnia, Iraq, Kosovo, Sierra Leone, Afghanistan, Iraq (again), Libya, and now ISIL.

To imagine that the Second World War was the last Great War is to be naive in the extreme.  There has never been a ‘war to end all wars’.  And there never will be – for as long as human beings choose violence over talking, self-preservation over sharing, hatred of the ‘other’ over love of neighbour.

But there is another way.  Writing around 2,700 years ago, the Hebrew prophet Micah dreamed of a day when all the peoples of the earth would ‘learn the ways of God’.  “He will teach us his ways”, said Micah, “so that we will walk in his paths”.  “He will settle the disputes between peoples, and they will beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning hooks.  Everyone will sit in peace under their own vine, and no-one will make them afraid”.

This peace will only come about when the peoples of the earth finally accept the rule and governorship of God.  Such peace will only come about when the people of the earth begin to take seriously what God meant when he told us to love our neighbours as ourselves – a message repeated again and again through the Hebrew Scriptures, and taken up with vigour by Jesus of Nazareth.  Only when we stop keeping the best stuff for ourselves, being content to watch our neighbours in other lands starve and die, will the world ever find the peace for which we all yearn.

If we will let him, the Lord will indeed be our Shepherd.  If we will follow his ways, he will indeed lead us beside still waters.  Our cups will indeed overflow.

But how will this be achieved?  There is no other way but the way of changing one person at a time.  To quote Mahatma Ghandi, ‘if you change yourself, you will change your world’.

So today, we give thanks for the 70 years of relative peace we have enjoyed here in Britain.  We remember, once again, those who gave their lives – or who were forced to give up their lives – for our peace. Today we especially pay tribute to those who endured the horror of the Death Railway and the Far East prisons. We remember, too, the innocent children of Hiroshima and Nagasaki – those who never raised a weapon against any one of us.  We remember them, and all those who have sacrificed themselves, or who were sacrificed, in the vast number of conflicts ever since.

But let us not simply remember them.  Let us honour their sacrifice with a sacrifice of our own.  Let us, each one, commit ourselves to living differently from today.  Let us put aside the lure of wealth, and the pettiness of nationality, and realise that we are all, each one, children of the same God.  Let us learn from him, and follow his ways…so that perhaps, one day, such commemorations as this will no longer be necessary.

Amen

The Passion of the Christ

A Short Homily on the day of the Performance of the Havant Passion Play

Reading:  John 6.51-58

I wonder how many of you saw yesterday’s production of the Havant Passion, in the park.  If you missed it, there is another opportunity this afternoon at 3pm.

I also wonder how many of you have dared to sit through Mel Gibson’s 2007 film, ‘The Passion of the Christ’.  Gibson went to great lengths to make his telling of the Passion as authentic as possible (at least as far as he could tell).  The result, I have to warn you, is rather shocking.  Hollywood must have got through a lot of bottles of tomato ketchup in the making of that film!

The challenge of the Passion Story is of course to get a mental grip on what the suffering and death of Jesus really meant.  Jesus’ death has held a variety of powerful meanings for Christians – and in theological circles, it remains a topic of hot debate.  Here are just three of the main focuses for that debate…

Sacrifice for Sin:  Many Christians believe that human wrong-doing (sin) makes it impossible to be with God (the source of all purity and love).  Such sin can, however, be wiped away through the payment of a death penalty.  By dying in our place Jesus ‘paid the price’ and opened the way for us to be forgiven and restored as children of God.  This, many believe, is how Jesus ‘saves’ us from ourselves, our human folly, and even from Hell.

Redemption: Some Christians believe that our sins effectively make us slaves of the Devil or Satan (though others use the Devil only as a metaphor for sin).  Through his death, Jesus ‘redeemed’ us (like redeeming a hostage from a kidnapper) by paying the Devil a ‘redemption’ in the form of his own blood.  “O Perfect redemption, the purchase of God…”

The Great Example:  Jesus was willing to be executed by the violent forces of power and  influence of his day (the Roman authorities, and the religious leaders).  He did this, many believe, to demonstrate powerfully what happens when violent power, bad politics and human greed are allowed to control society.  The weak and defenceless are left to die, and God gets pushed out to the margins of society.

Christians have debated these (and other, still deeper) interpretations for centuries. New meanings of ‘The Cross’ are always waiting to be discovered.  It fascinates me, however, that Jesus himself said very little about the actual meaning of his death.  Nowhere in the Gospels does is he recorded as giving the kind of clear theological and intellectual meaning that we humans crave.  According to the Gospels, Jesus talked about his blood as ‘poured out for the sins of many’ (which points to the idea of sacrifice) and as the ‘wine of the new covenant’ (which implies that his blood is the seal of a new contract between humans and God).  But Jesus doesn’t get any more specific than that.  “Do this,” he says, “in memory of me – as often as you eat it”.

So, in Jesus’ words, as with so much of his teaching, there are quite deliberate layers upon layers of meaning.  As we see in today’s Gospel, those who heard him speak were just as perplexed.  ‘How can this man give us his flesh to eat?’ asked the Jews…clearly failing to understand the way that Jesus spoke in metaphors.

I have personally struggled with the meaning of Jesus’ passion for many years.  I’ve read hundreds of different theologians’ take on it.  I could lecture you for hours on the deeper possible layers of meaning that his passionate act of Sacrifice has for so many different people!  But I won’t.  There isn’t time today!

Instead, let me offer you this thought.  Following Jesus is not so much about precisely what you believe, but about how you follow Jesus.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus didn’t tell his followers exactly what to believe about his flesh that they were supposed to eat, or his blood that they were supposed to drink.  Rather, he simply says ‘eat’ and ‘drink’.  It’s a little bit like a parent who says to their child…”do as I say.  Don’t ask why.  Just do it!”.

Following Jesus is an act of faith, not an act of belief.  We can choose to believe all sorts of theological theories about Jesus.  But at the end of the day, Jesus calls out ‘Follow Me’.  Have faith in me. Live as I call you to live.  Live openly & generously.  Give freely, and you will receive.  Give up your life, and you will have life.  Love God and love your neighbour as yourself.  That’s the key, that’s the heart of it.

Don’t get hung up on the theological niceties…but rather, as the old hymn says:  Trust and obey, for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus but to trust and obey.

Amen.

The Mass, the Eucharist, the Holy Communion or the Lord's Supper?

Today, I want to focus on something that we do, every week, year in and year out.  I'm speaking of course, about the Mass, or the Holy Communion, or the Lord's Supper, or the Eucharist....whatever your favourite name for this service is!

Actually, all these different names are important...because they spring out of the ongoing debates in the church, all around the world, about the primary meaning of this liturgy.  Those who use the word 'Eucharist' are drawing from the Greek word 'eucharistia' which means 'thanksgiving'.  For them, the key moment of this service is the eucharistic, or thanksgiving prayer, during which the people of God are reminded of God's actions in the world and in their lives through Christ and the Holy Spirit.  The Eucharist is where we give thanks to God for the sacrificial death of Christ, and commit ourselves to live new lives following his example.

For those who prefer the term Holy Communion, it is the more 'communal' aspects of the service which are important.  Through the liturgy, the 'community' comes together, and communes with God and one another, before going out to love and serve the Lord in the community.  It is that 'communal' emphasis that has led the Church of England to mainly prefer the title 'Holy Communion' than some of the other options.  We are a parish church, called to serve a certain parish, in a certain community.  We invite others to an ever more Holy Way of being in communion, and in community.

The Lord's Supper is a term mainly used by the 'non-conformist' churches - those who do not conform to all the teachings of the orthodox and catholic versions of Christianity.  Most Lord's Suppers are a very stripped-back, bare version of the liturgy.  The main focus is the meal of bread and wine, which is consumed (mainly) as a memorial of Christ's death.  A ‘Lord's Supper’ tends to focus on the meal as a historical event, rather than (as the traditional churches teach) something which is still happening today. 

For a non-conformist, (and for most evangelicals) the bread and the wine are merely tokens, rather than something which by the Holy Spirit, is mysteriously transformed into the body and blood of Jesus - whether that is meant spiritually or literally.  The piece of furniture on which this happens is called the Lord's Table, rather than an Altar - because non-conformists prefer to believe that what happened once cannot be repeated again.  For them, the sacrifice of Christ was made once for all, and cannot be repeated.  Those who prefer the term Altar claim that in some spiritual sense Christ continues to sacrifice himself again and again for the life of the world...and therefore, the place on which this Sacrifice is made present would be called an Altar.

There are many, many other names for this central feast of the Christian Church, and many many ways of interpreting all the different elements that it includes.  For example, some Christians call this 'The Table of the Lord' - the 'Mensa Domini'.  Some call it 'the Lord's Body' - the Corpus Domini.  Some call it the 'Holy of Holies' - the 'Sanctissimum', or the 'Eulogia' (the Blessing) or the Synaxis (the Assembly).  And there are others! 

The main alternative that I suspect you have all heard is of course ‘The Mass’.  There are debates around where that particular title came from.  One idea is that the word comes from the same root as the word 'Mess' - as is used on ships all over the world.  It’s the place of 'the Meal' - so the The Mass is The Meal.  Another suggestion is that ‘Mass’ comes from the Latin words of dismissal, at the end of the service:  "Ite, Missa Est', which directly translates as 'Go, the dismissal is made'.  In other words…'You are sent' - emphasising that having received the spiritual nourishment of the Eucharist, we are sent out into the world 'to love and serve the Lord'.

And all of this is very interesting...especially to a geek like me!  But of course, the real question is this:  what is the Service for?!  What is its fundamental purpose?  Why do we do it, and why should we continue doing it?

Surprisingly, one of the most profound answers that I've found to these questions comes from an Atheist… 

The philosopher Alain de Botton has written a description of what he calls 'the Mass', which is well worth hearing.  (This is part of his book "Religion for Athiests: A Non-Believer's Guide to the Uses of Religion").  He argues that Atheists need to learn from the Church.   For example, he praises the Mass for the way that it brings people together in community around a meal.  He points out that with declining church attendance we have seen an exponential rise in Restaurants - But, he points out, Restaurants fail to "introduce patrons to one another, to dispel their mutual suspicions, to break up the clans into which people chronically segregate themselves”.  The focus is on the food and the decor, never on opportunities for extending and deepening affections”.

In contrast, de Botton says these things about the Mass...” Those in attendance tend not to be uniformly of the same age, race, profession or educational or income level; they are a random sampling of souls united only by their shared commitment to certain values"

The Mass "should inspire visitors to suspend their customary frightened egoism in favour of joyful immersion in a collective spirit - an unlikely scenario in the majority of modern community centres"

These are all brilliant observations, I think.  De Botton goes on to suggest the formation of Agape Restaurants, where patrons are mixed up, and forced to sit with people they don’t normally mix with.  They should be places where people are challenged to think about life, and their place in it.  

I rather like the idea of Agape Restaurant.  In fact such restaurants already exist in many churches.  We have one, just like that, in Havant, in the Pastoral Centre with the Methodist Church.  So does the Portsdown Community Church, at the Beacon. There’s also the Meeting Place at the URC.  This is what Authentic Christians do - we take a simple idea from the normal plane of modern existence...in our case, the idea of eating together.  Then we transform it, with God's help, into something holy, by introducing the idea of community - teaching people to love their neighbour as they love themselves.  We give every visitor a warm welcome, and the chance, if they wish, to think about the deep questions of existence.

And that is what the Mass, or the Holy Communion, is ultimately about.  It's the place where people from all walks of life can come together, united by a common Vision of what the world could be like.  We are united by a common understanding that none of us is free of sin, and we all need to give and receive forgiveness...from God and each other.  We are united by a common meal, in which we take into ourselves the very stuff of God, in bread and wine; we take in sustenance for the next stage of our life...whether that be the next day, or the next month. 

And we do other vital things too.  Together, we recite historic words of faith, like the Creed.  Many of us might struggle with the actual theology  of some of the words we recite, but nevertheless they tie us to the previous generations who have believed before us. Together we offer up the world, in all its chaos and pain, and challenge ourselves to be part of the solution to the world's problems.  We share peace with each other...even with people who we would normally not think of as friends.  And together, we commit ourselves to going out in the name of Christ, to love and serve the world.

What could be a more appropriate and magnificent thing for followers of Jesus - to do?

Amen.

The Death of John the Baptist

The Death of John the Baptist

(Amos 7.7-15, Ephesians 1.3-14, Mark 6, 14-29)

Putting your head above the parapet is a very dangerous thing to do.  You’re quite likely to lose it.  And yet, that is what God has consistently called his people to do throughout the centuries. 

In the early days of recorded human history, the Jewish nation came to believe that God had called them to put their heads above the parapet.  They believed that through Patriarchs like Moses, God had called them to be a people through which the whole world would be changed, redeemed and saved.  This was to be a way of life that was completely at odds with the way people used to live in those days.  It was a way of life which included ideas like,

welcoming the stranger

sharing of wealth

a prohibition on usury (or the charging of interest).

and the very notion of charity. 

God called his people to willingly surrender some of their wealth for the good of the whole community.  Widows, orphans, strangers, the sick – all could be embraced and cared-for.  No-one would be exploited through the charging of interest.  All would be welcome.

And they were to do all this despite the pressures and the temptations of the world and the nations around them… nations who sought to conquer them and take over Jewish lands.  God promised them that if they would live according to his laws, they would prosper, despite the pressure on their borders.

But, the Jews were (and are) made of the same stuff as you and me.  Time and time again, they, like us, failed to live up to God’s call to be radically different to the rest of the world.  They were tempted by the allure of gold and power, and gave up the laws of God.  They failed to abide by the rules of Jubilee and Charity and purity.  The rich and powerful grew fatter, while the poor went hungry. 

God, however, did not give up on his people.  He sent them prophets, men who put their heads above the parapet, to remind people of God’s laws, and to call the people to repent.  We heard just now a small snippet of the book of Amos, who was one such prophet.  Amos lived about 750 years before Christ, at a time when the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah were peaking in prosperity.  The rulers of the Kingdoms at that time had never had it so good.  International commerce was flourishing.   But as a result, the peasant farmers were being forced to grow crops that would make more money for their masters – like wine and olive oil for the rich to consume, instead of grain for bread. The rich oppressed the poor.  Might was right.  Profit was king.

Amos was himself a farmer and a herdsman.  Out of his own experience, God calls him to go to the capital city – and there he puts his head above the parapet – loudly proclaiming the iniquity of the current economic system.  He became a Prophet against profit.  (Did you see what I did there?) 

But, as you might imagine, this doesn’t go down very well with the people who have the power.  Amaziah, for example, was a priest of the Temple of the Golden Calf…and he was particularly upset.  The Golden Calf was a symbol of the wealth of the nation.  People prayed to the Calf for their own wealth…praying to be raised out of their own poverty.  It was rather like the way that people today buy lottery tickets in the hope of great wealth.  The people of Israel sacrificed desperately to the Golden Calf…and the priests lived off the sacrifices.  Amaziah was their priest – and he didn’t want Amos to upset his rather comfortable apple-cart.  He incited the crowd to beat Amos up.  Amaziah ridiculed the prophet, and warned him to get out of town.

Prophets against profit are never very popular.  And that was the pattern throughout the Bible’s history.  Time and time again, the prophets called the people back to the ways of God.  John the Baptist was the last in this long line of ancient prophets.  He too stood up against the powerful elites of his day – especially the vassal King Herod.  Herod was a puppet of the Roman authorities, but he lived in a fine palace, held lavish parties, and kept on partying while his people suffered and squirmed under the ‘might is right’ domination of Rome.  John the Baptist cried out against Herod…against his lifestyle, his love of wealth and profit and his iniquitous inter-marriage to his brother’s wife. He put his head above the parapet…and for his trouble, got himself locked up in Herod’s dungeon, then had his head removed.

There are of course many other juicy themes I’d like to explore about the death of John the Baptist.  The whole topic of the use of sex and seduction to obtain immoral ends is particularly juicy!  But I don’t want to over-stay my welcome.

Let me just conclude with these thoughts.  When the Bible speaks about the human beings of history, it describes us too. It reads us.  Human nature does not change.  There will always be wealthy elites, who will manipulate the power they have been given, or that they have taken, to oppress the poor. 

And, while it reads us, the Bible also calls to us…the modern day people of God…the new Israel.  We are the people who, as Paul said (while writing to the Ephesians in our second lesson) have had “made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ”. (Eph 1.9).  We cannot be in any doubt about this.  God has made abundantly clear, through the pages of the Bible the ‘mystery of his will’.  We cannot be in any doubt that the way the world is structured is absolutely and fundamentally flawed.  Wealthy elites have sway in our world – perhaps even more than in biblical times.  Something like 90% of the world’s wealth is owned by 10% of its population.  The poor are trampled on, or turned into slaves to work in the seat-shops and factories that support the wealthy elite.  Golden Calves are erected to give people hope.  They are called things like ‘the American Dream’, or given fancy labels like ‘equality of opportunity’…when in reality, all the opportunity is exclusively reserved for the sons and daughters of the elite. 

Into this sinful, depraved, iniquitous system…the Bible speaks loudly and clearly the ‘mystery of God’s will’ – his mysterious upside down view of the way the world should be.  Blessed are the poor…for theirs is the kingdom of God.  Blessed are the meek…for they will, ultimately, inherit the earth when the Great Day of the Lord comes.  Blessed are the peacemakers…for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  We have the words of Mary, echoing Hannah the mother of another prophet, Samuel…”He will put down the mighty from their seats, and exalt the humble and meek.  He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent empty away”. 

Our task…our fundamental task…our mission…our calling is crystal clear.  We are called to co-operate with God in the building of a completely different way of life…establishing a Kingdom in which all can flourish, and everyone can thrive.  That’s what it means to be a follower of Christ.  In Paul’s words, we have been “adopted as his children through Jesus Christ” – we are the new people of Israel.  We, like Israel before us, are called to live holy and blameless lives.  We are called to declare the promises of God to the whole world, living by the light of “him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will”.  The great Day of Lord that Amos foretold will come.  The rich will be sent empty away.  The poor will be raised up and the meek will inherit the earth. 

But what does this calling actually mean for us?  What does it mean, as we considered last week, for us to ‘act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God’? 

On a personal level, you need to work that out for yourself.  What is God calling you to do differently as a result of understanding this calling?  What power do you hold over others that he calls you to relinquish?  How can you be more self-emptying, more uplifting of the poor and the down-trodden people you encounter in your life?  We need to work these things out for ourselves.  We need to take time to listen to God’s call on our individual lives.  Many of us live remarkably comfortable lives, don’t we?  Could it be that God is stirring us up to more fully ‘live for the praise of his glory’ (in the words of St Paul - Eph 1.12)?  Could you bring a tin of food for the food-bank?  Could you offer to visit one of the lonely and housebound members of this community?  Could you give up some sofa-time to improve our community facilities?  Could you sacrifice some of your personal financial resources for the work of the Kingdom? You need to answer these questions for yourself.

But as a community, I think God is speaking loudly and clearly.  Through our Mission Development Plan, he is calling us to build community structures that speak loudly and clearly of Kingdom Values.  There are physical spaces like our church building and our community halls in which the lives of the very poorest can be transformed into something at least approaching God’s counsel and will.  That’s why we are bending ourselves towards the task of restoring our church hall.  That’s why we are improving our church building. 

But as well as physical structures, I believe God is calling us to build new ways of being a community too.  We need to adapt the way we worship and worship spaces – so that they welcome and embrace the young, and those for whom traditional forms of worship don’t speak so clearly.  We need to get serious about learning what the Bible has to teach us, and about what it means to truly Follow Jesus – hence the new course we are starting in the Spring.  Our Mission Development Plan invites us to devote ourselves to:

• ·        worship of God and to service of our community
• ·        to discipleship for ourselves and encouragement and support of others
• ·        to nurture the young – who are largely absent at the moment
• ·        to enhance our environment – our piece of the planet which we’ve been given to care for
• ·        and to care for our buildings

We need to become, in short, the kind of people who put their heads above the parapet and who declare through our lives, our words and our actions, that God is at work, and the world will be changed. 

Amen.

What's Your Vocation?

Last night, at Portsmouth Cathedral, I experienced the enormous pleasure of attending the ordination of someone from my former parish. If you've never attended an ordination, you really should make a mental note to go at some point.  They are quite remarkable occasions, where someone who has gone through years of struggle with God, more years of study at college, many sleepless nights and buckets of 'formational' training finally stands before the Bishop.  At the ordination of priests, other priests gather round and together with the Bishop we all lay hands on the ordinand - praying for God's Spirit to fill them anew for their vocation.  It can be a very emotional moment indeed!

It also, happens to be the 10th Anniversary of my own ordination this weekend.  10 years since I had the hands of other clergy placed on me.  10 years since I was commissioned for a particular role within the Church.

I have to confess that I'm rather grateful to God that my commissioning didn't take the same pattern as the ordination of the Twelve Disciples in today's Gospel.  Jesus sent them out, two by two - and he forbade them to take anything with them for the journey, except a staff:  no bread, no bag, no money - and only one tunic.  It seems that Jesus wanted his disciples to be wholly reliant on God, and on the hospitality of others.  He called them to live on the charity of others - having no wealth that could be used to draw people to themselves.  Even today, there is still something of that in the way the church commissions its leaders.  Even Bishops are only modestly paid.  Many vicars and rectors live in lovely houses - with big rooms and gardens that can be used for parish events.  But we don't own them.  Our allowances are carefully calculated to give us enough to pay the bills, but not so much that we find it easy to save anything.  Most retired clergy end up living in rented accommodation, and have to cover services just to make ends meet.  

In setting this pattern, the Church is trying to follow the pattern of Jesus.  He understood that possessing too much wealth can be a very tricky thing for a human being to get right. Wealth can very quickly make friends for us.  If we are wealthy enough to host parties, or give lavish gifts to our friends, then we will always have people who want to be around us.  Wealth can be used - intentionally or not - as means of obtaining power over other people.  The wonderful Billie Holiday reflected this idea in her song 'God Bless the Child', when she sang:

When you've got money, you've got lots of friends,

They're crowding round your door

But when the money's gone, and all the spending ends

They don't come round anymore

But Jesus didn't want his Disciples to go out with presents, or to put on dinner parties to invite people - tricking them into sitting down to hear the Gospel.  His radical new way of living was not going to be based on using money as a lever to faith.  Neither did he want to present the idea that his followers would somehow live more easily than other people.  Following God, as most of us know only too well, is not a guarantee of wealth, or of good health.  The kind of preachers who tell you that if you follow God, he will shower you with a new car and the end of all financial worries are wrong.  Utterly wrong.  

In fact, over and over again, Jesus warned his followers about the false promises of wealth.  It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom.  He told the stories of wealthy landowners who lost their lives just at the point at which they had gathered all their riches into barns.

Jesus called his followers into a very different way of life.  It was a way of life, as Paul discovered, in which weakness would be the path to perfection.  It was a way of life, as Ezekiel found out, in which there would be rebellion and hardship from a society which has stopped listening to God.  And, as The Twelve discovered, as Jesus sent them out, it would be a way of life in which dependence on one another, charity, poverty, a refusal to claim ownership of anything, would be the ways to performing miracles and changing lives.

We still struggle with these ideas, don't we?  These are counter-intuitive ideas.  Every day, through our newspapers, magazines and TV sets, powerful forces are at work underminding this idea of Jesus.   Through the media, we get a very different picture of what success looks like.  Even when we hear the occasional story of the miserable millionaire, or the suicidal pop-star, we brush them off as being exceptions that prove the rule.

But Jesus continues to call us to a new vocation.  He called me, 10 years ago, to give up a rather nice Government salary in favour of a church stipend.  He calls Bishops, often some of the most talented men (and now women!) of their generation to similar financial restraint.  And, I believe, Jesus calls all his followers to think very carefully - very carefully indeed - about how they use the wealth and opportunities that they have been fortunate enough to accumulate.

The word ‘vocation’ of course has the same roots as the world ‘vocal’.  Our vocation is our ‘calling’.  Some receive very special callings – perhaps to serve the church in an ordained or licensed ministry.  But all God’s people are called.  All of us have a vocation…a shared, general, universal vocation.  All of us who own the title of Christ-ian are called to live in a way – in fact in The Way – that Jesus outlined.  It’s a way of self-sacrifice.  It’s a way of receiving, through giving.  It’s a way of choosing the life of the community over the temptations of the individual.  It’s the kind of way of life that draws people out of their homes, and into fellowship with one another.  It’s the way of life that welcomes the stranger, and rejoices in difference.

The prophet Micah perhaps summed these ideas up with the greatest succinctness:

Micah 6:8:  (God) has shown you O mortal, what is good:  and what does the LORD require of you?  To act justly, love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.

How can we act justly, when billions around us are starving and we fail to help?

How can we act mercifully, when we close our borders and our hearts to those who need our help?

How can we walk humbly with God, when we don’t pay any attention to the teachings of his Son?

This, then, is our calling and our vocation:  all of us.  Who knows where such a calling will lead us.  Some may be inspired to take up new responsibilities and challenges in the church or in the workplace and world.  Some may find new ways of using the gift of wealth they have been given to bless their community.  Some may even find themselves wearing a clerical collar!  All we can say, is that this is The Way of God:  to act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with our God.  

Amen

(Scriptures referenced:  Micah 6.8, Ezekiel 2.1-5, 2 Corinthians 12.2-10, Mark 6.1-13)