The Good Samaritan

The Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10): Preached at a baptism service for Harry and Tyler Andrews. The sermon was preceded by a clip from the movie "The Miracle Maker" in which Jesus tells the story.

In a few minutes we will be baptising Harry and Tyler into the Church. But why are we doing it? What's it all about? I mean, its a bit of an odd thing to do isn't it...to pour some water over someone's head in the name of God?

Well, perhaps the first thing to say about baptism is that it is a very ancient practice. We know that for 2000 years, Christians have been doing this simple thing to each other. It stems out of a command that Jesus gave his disciples before he left them to carry on his work: "Go into all the world and make disciples - baptising them in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit." (Matthew 28:18)

Jesus himself was baptised, in the River Jordan. So baptism is something that we do out of obedience to Jesus. We do it because he told us to...even though we might not understand it very well.

The second thing we can say about baptism is that it is a sign, a symbol - of something much deeper than what we shall see on the surface. (Note for website only: The technical term for this, within the church, is the word "sacrament" - which, according to the Anglican Book of Common Prayer, means something that is an 'outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible grace".)

We see signs all around us, don't we? On remembrance day, we wear a poppy. On World Aids day, we wear a ribbon. When we drive down a street, we see road signs. What are these things? A flower. A ribbon. Some marks on a circle of metal. But because we know what they mean, these signs have resonance for us. We know that the poppy reminds us of those who have given their lives so that we can live in peace. We know that the ribbon reminds us that AIDS is a disease which millions are suffering from. We know that a circle with the number 20 in it means that we should drive safely.

So what is it that baptism is symbolising? Well, pretty clearly, it's a symbol of washing and cleansing. Christians believe that baptism is an essential part of the process of having our sins washed away.

But what is sin?
Sin is anything that gets in the way of us truly becoming the people that God created us to be. It's the bad stuff, the general rubbish and clutter of our lives, that comes between us and God. It's a difficult word, isn't it? Somehow we have got used to thinking of sinners as being those people who do the very worst things. Murderers, thieves, rapists, and so on. But that's only partly true.

Scripture tells us that 'all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God' (Rom.3:23). We've all 'fallen short'. I'm a sinner...and I hope that you'll forgive me for saying this... we are all 'sinners'. I'm not insulting you...honestly! I'm just using the word in the way it was meant to be used! None of us, if we examine ourselves honestly could ever claim to be perfect. And that's the dividing line. We are either perfect, like God. Or imperfect...and therefore sinners.

But the message of Baptism is that God never gives up on us. God is always reaching out to us, and offering us the chance to become more and more like him. He offers to take away our sin, and helps us to become more and more God-like. More like the people, created in God's image, that God intended us to be.

Baptism is a part of that process. It's an outward sign that God is at work in us. It's a sign of our saying 'yes' to the process of becoming more like God. For Harry and Tyler (who will probably scream when I pour water on their head) - it's a sign that their parents, on their behalf, are saying 'yes' to God as well.

But why would we want to do that at all? Why would we want to become more like God? The story of the Good Samaritan, which we just saw on the screen, might help us to find an answer.

In that story - which Jesus told - a man was going on a journey. While he was walking along, minding his own business, he was set upon by a group of thugs. Various important people walked right on past him. But eventually, a Samaritan stopped and took care of him. The story of the Good Samaritan has all sorts of things to teach us.

Samaritans were generally hated by the people that Jesus was talking to. If he was preaching to us, he might have used a Gypsy or a Traveller, instead of a Samaritan. Or, if he was preaching to the kind of ignorant people who vote for the British National Party, he might have used an African, or a Pakistani man.

We have a young friend who was visiting us last week. At the end of the evening, he set out to walk home, just a few streets away - but accidentally left his keys on the kitchen table. About 10 minutes later, I got a phone-call from him. He apologised profusely, and asked if I would mind coming out in my car to bring him his keys...because he was too nervous to walk back to my house. The reason was that as he had walked down London Road, he had been treated to a torrent of abuse from a group of young people. They shouted and screamed at him that he should go back to Pakistan. The irony is that these young British thugs were too stupid to realise that my young friend is training to be a doctor...someone who would be able to help them if they were ever ill. And worse still, they were too stupid to realise that my friend is, in fact, an African, not a Pakistani! He looks nothing like a man from Pakistan! I really fear for the spiritual health of our nation when our young people show themselves to be that stupid!

The story of the Good Samaritan teaches us about the need to stop judging other people because of their race, or their background. Samaritans were hated. But Jesus tried to show his listeners that such hatred was pointless. A Samaritan was just as capable of being a good neighbour as anyone else.

The story of the Good Samaritan shows us a different way. It shows us that it is possible to live a life that is based on giving, instead of getting. It shows us how generosity has the power to transform lives. The Samaritan in the story simply gave...of his time, his money, his medicine, his bandages... without looking for any reward. Except the satisfaction of simply doing good.

In doing so, he mirrored the way that God acts towards us. God is, by nature, a giver. God gives us his very breath, by giving us life. He gives us an amazing planet to live on, full of beauty and challenge. He gave us his son, to show us what he was like. He gives us healing and forgiveness every time we turn to him. He gives us his Spirit to help us to learn the Truth about who we are, and who He is.

I wonder what our society would look like if all of us lived that way. It's just possible that if more people embraced Jesus' way of living, that this world would be a far happier, far more sharing, far less destructive place for us all to live in. Wars over resources would be solved by people learning to share. Poppies would become a thing of the past. AIDS would be cured because money would get spent on medical research instead of intercontinental ballistic missiles. Ribbons wouldn't be needed anymore.

That's the sort of way of life that Harry and Tyler's parents (and God-parents) are signing them up to today. It takes courage to stand up at the front of a church in the way they are going to do in a few moments. And it takes courage to say "yes" to God's way of living...and "no" to doing things the old way. It takes courage to embrace God, and reject sin. It takes courage to step out on a journey of faith...and that is courage that I welcome and applaud.

Now - let's do some baptising!

The Bread of Life

John 6: 35 & 41-51



Preached at St Francis Church on the Sunday following the funeral of Rob Townsend, husband of the Vicar of St Francis.

It's good to be with you this morning - in the middle of what is, undoubtedly, a difficult time for all - and especially, of course, for dear Diane. Rob's death came so suddenly that it has taken us all by surprise. I want to start by thanking you all for the messages and gestures of love and support that I know you have all been sending to Di. She has told me that she has had more offers of help and support that she knows what to do with...and that she feels immensely loved, and held in your prayers. So thank you for that.

I know that many of you have also lost husbands and wives, and you will know something of what Di is coping with right now. The loss of such a close family member is always devastating - whether one has a Christian faith, or not. But for those of us who have faith, that devastating loss is - albeit slightly - gentled by the knowledge, and the hope, of the Christian story.

As is so often the case, our set Gospel reading for this morning speaks directly into our situation. Jesus refers to himself as the bread of life, and then promises that those who have been drawn to him, by Our Father, will be raised up at the last day. There are three ideas here, woven together:

• there's the analogy of Jesus as the bread of life.
• Then there's the idea of God drawing us into relationship with Jesus.
• And then there's the promise of resurrection.

In those three ideas is found the heart of the Christian story - the story that Rob put his faith and trust in. So in the next few minutes, I'd like to unpack those ideas for us to ponder together.

Bread is one of those metaphors that runs right through the Bible. Bread was one of the most basic foods for the people of the Bible - as it remains for those of us who are not watching our figures too closely today! By referring to himself as the Bread of Life, Jesus was saying that he, and therefore God, is the basic requirement for all spiritual life. That's an idea that remains controversial even in our day. For some people, spirituality is about connection with Mother Earth, or a devotion to nature. For some its about ley-lines, gem-stones and lucky charms.

But to focus on these things is, I think, to confuse the Creator with the created. Jesus called us to go deeper - to focus on the source of all life...the Creator God. There may be power in created objects...because such objects come from God, and are infused with God as all things are. But if we focus on the objects, and not on their Creator, we are missing out on something really fundamental. It would be like focusing on the bread-tin, instead of the bread. The oven, instead of the loaf.

As we come together around the Lord's Table, as we shall in a few minutes - we are encouraged to focus our spiritual eyes on the Bread of Life - the most basic requirement for spiritual life. We are called to eat that bread, and drink that wine as a sign that we say 'Yes' to God's call - to the drawing of us towards himself that Jesus referred to.

And that's the second of those three points. Jesus said "No-one can come to me unless the Father draws them" (Jn 6:44). Many people have, I think, misunderstood that sentence. Many have used it to justify a spirit of spiritual superiority over others, saying "I am a Christian because God has called me...therefore every other religion is wrong". Or, perhaps worse still, "every other Christian who disagrees with my point of view is wrong. I'm saved, because God has pre-determined that I am one of the chosen."

(Web note: This section of the sermon is hinting at the notion of 'pre-destination' - the theological idea that God has pre-determined those whom he will save, and those whom he will condemn. There isn't space for a full discussion of this topic here...but I'd be happy to debate with anyone who wishes to explore it in the comment section of this Blog).

I don't think that Jesus meant his words to be taken in that way. I think that he was pointing out that God never stops drawing all his children towards him...he continually offers his life to all of his creation. In the very next verse, Jesus goes on to explain that the prophets had said "They will all be taught by God" - meaning, surely, that God offers his life to all. Some people respond to that call. Some people chose to feed on the Bread of Life. And some don't. Those that do, like Rob, have the greatest and most significant hope set before them...the hope of resurrection...and the third of my points for this morning.

Some years ago, a lawyer called Josh McDowell set out to examine the evidence of the Resurrection...intending to disprove it in the way that a lawyer would if arguing their case in court. The trouble was, that the more he examined the evidence, the more convinced he became, that the Resurrection was a real event. The book that he wrote as a result - called "Evidence that Demands a Verdict" has been a best-seller in Christian circles ever since.

Now I'm not going to try to summarise a whole book in two minutes. But some of the questions he asked went like this:

If Jesus didn't rise from the dead, who stole the body? If it was the authorities of the time, why didn't they simply produce the body when the Disciples started telling everyone that Jesus had risen from the dead? If the Disciples stole the body, why would they be willing to be tortured and executed for a lie? Wouldn't it have been rather easier to go back to their fishing nets and businesses?

Josh McDowell, and many like him, have concluded that we have good legal-style evidence for believing, with the Disciples, that Jesus did indeed rise from the dead. Others have argued that even if he didn't...if perhaps his body was thrown onto the Jerusalem rubbish heap (as happened to most crucifixion victims) his Disciples were so enlivened by their encounter with him, so persuaded of his Spiritual life and force, that they were certain that death could not separate them from their Lord. So certain were they, that they were prepared to be executed and tortured, rather than give up their belief.

We, then, have strong grounds for believing the Easter story. We have strong grounds for believing that Jesus, the Bread of Life, never gives up on us, and that his Father and ours never stops calling us. We have strong grounds for believing that the hope of resurrection is a real hope. We have strong grounds for believing that Rob's life - and that of others we have loved - is not over...in fact that it has only barely begun.

And so, though we are in grief, we press on towards the goal (to use St Paul's phrase). In this church, over this weekend, we have had the sadness of Rob's funeral, but also the joy of marrying Amy Stevenson, as was, to her new husband Carl Lees. This afternoon we will be baptising Maisie Haytor into God's family. And during this last week we have rejoiced in the arrival of Toby Fisher - a new son for Karen and Sean, and a new Grandson for June.

The funeral service from the Book of Common Prayer had the immortal phrase "in the midst of life we are in death". But perhaps, as people who believe in the resurrection, as people who feed on the bread of life, we should better say that as Christians, we can rejoice. We can rejoice because even in the midst of death, even in the midst of such a shocking event as Rob's death, Rob and we are in life.

Amen

Eucharistic Musings

A Sermon for 2nd August 2009

Note: There are lot's of half-educated assumptions about Presbyterianism in this sermon! I would be delighted to be corrected by anyone who knows more about this subject than me!

As most of you will be aware, my family and I have just returned from a two week holiday in Scotland. We’ve walked the hills and lochs, we’ve visited a safari park, we’ve retraced the steps of Robbie Burns, and we’ve sat by a warm fireside in the cold rain! One of the things we like to do when we go on holiday is to explore churches. It’s interesting to see how people in other parts of the country, or indeed the world, worship - and what memorials they feel it’s important to display. Regretfully, in Scotland, we were thwarted in that endeavour, because all the churches we tried to visit on our various walks were shut! Not, as we English sometimes do, out of a fear of vandalism - but for rather different reasons altogether.

The Church of Scotland is a very different organisation from the Church of England. For a start, it is ‘Presbyterian’ rather than Episcopal - which means that leadership rests in the hands of the local priest, or presbyter, rather than in the ‘episcope’ - or Bishop. Each congregation is therefore much more autonomous than we tend to be. Presbyterianism stems from a belief that the very first churches were much smaller entities than the huge dioceses that we in the catholic tradition have constructed. Scripture would seem to support that idea - there is clearly a sense that Timothy, (whom St Paul describes as a Bishop) was the leader of only one or maybe two congregations. In those terms, my role as Team Rector would be much closer to what the New Testament calls a Bishop... So you can call me Bishop Tom now if you like!!

Presbyterianism has its roots very firmly in the reformed tradition of the church. Their church buildings are very plain - just as one would see on the Continent. This comes from a strict interpretation of the Ten Commandments - the idea that we should not make graven images of anything on the earth or above the earth. In this sense, Presbyterians have a lot in common with Islam - which also prohibits the use of statues, images or icons. There is also a much reduced sense of a church being a holy place, as we tend to believe. Without religious art, Church of Scotland buildings are very plain...usually with clear or frosted glass at the windows, plain white walls, and very few memorials. The theological message being sent is that it is not the building which is holy, but the people. That is another reason why many of the churches are not left open for public visitors. Congregations want people to join them for worship, not simply to come and visit an empty ‘meeting house’.

The pews in Scottish churches are often turned sideways, to enhance the sense of togetherness, rather than long-ways as most of our English churches do. People face each other - not the altar - again re-enforcing the idea that the church is the people, not the building. Traditional Scottish churches tend to be focused on a central, raised pulpit...sometimes as much as 20 feet up in the air...as a sign that the preaching and exposition of the scriptures, for the edification of the people, is of prime importance. Long sermons are the norm for Presbyterians! Which is an idea I think we should establish here? What about you?!

The corollary to having such a prominent pulpit is that the Lord’s Table tends to have a secondary, lower position - still central, but at floor level. Always called the Lord’s Table rather than the Altar - on the basis that Jesus did away with altar-sacrifices by his one, perfect, oblation and satisfaction. In fact in many Church of Scotland churches, the service of Holy Communion is only held around four times a year. As I understand their history, this is partly to ensure that people rely on preaching rather than ceremony for their spiritual health - and partly so that the taking of Communion will be done reverently and carefully, and after serious thought and preparation. It is certainly the case that we in the Church of England can be guilty of going through the motions, week by week, without giving the whole concept of Communion very much thought.

The Church of Scotland is by no means the only national church to act in these ways. You will find churches like this all across the world - and especially in those countries which were most influenced by the teachings of John Calvin. I’ve worshipped in similar churches in Hungary and Romania - and I’ve seen many others around the world. There is much I think we can learn from their tradition; much that we would do well to ponder ourselves. Are we sometimes guilty of thinking of our building as the church, rather than its people? Do we place too much emphasis on art and iconography - the works of human beings - rather than the splendour of the works of God outside our walls? Do we give enough attention to the preaching of the scriptures? Should we sacrifice some of our rituals, in order to spend more time learning about the faith that we profess? Do we sometimes go through the motions of Holy Communion, without really engaging with the deep mystery that it presents us with?

It is that last question that I’d like to focus on for the remainder of this short sermon. Our readings this morning have reminded us of some of the layers of meaning that the early church attached to this simple ceremony. The reading from Exodus reminded us of the story of how God fed the Israelites with ‘manna’ from heaven during their time in the desert. What the reading didn’t make absolutely clear is that the word ‘manna’ meant ‘what is it?’ - the cry of incomprehension from the Israelites themselves when they first encountered it. That might be our question too - as we approach the mystery of Holy Communion. What is it? What’s it all about?

Let’s get some terminology out of the way first. Communion is called by many names - Eucharist, the Mass, the Lord’s Supper, and of course Communion. What do they mean? Well, Eucharist comes from a Greek word which essentially means ‘thanksgiving’. It reminds us that we come together to give thanks for all that God has done for us, by creating us, sustaining us by his Spirit, and healing, or redeeming, us by his Son. Technically speaking, the Eucharistic, or Thanksgiving, refers only to part of the service - to the prayer of Thanksgiving which comes just before the Consecration of the bread and wine...the prayer to which the congregation replies ‘Holy, Holy, Holy...’. But over time, like so many words, the word Eucharist has become expended to include the whole service - because there are so many elements of thanksgiving included...for example through our singing, through many of our prayers, and through our thankful giving of gifts.

The word Mass has its roots in a Latin word...’Messe’ - which means literally a ‘meal’. It is no more mysterious than that. And its where the armed services get the idea of calling their restaurants and canteens ’the mess’. To say that I am about to celebrate the Mass is to say that I am about to celebrate ‘The Meal’ - the meal, of the body of Christ, gathered together around the Lord’s Table.

The word ‘Communion’, or ‘Holy Communion’ is rather easier to digest. It comes from the same root word as our word ‘communal’ - and so it clearly points us to the idea that this is something significant which we do together. But it also brings into its shades of meaning the idea of being joined...that as we commune with each other, we also commune with God. Communion is essentially a communal event - it is the coming together of the people of God, and in doing so the people of God encounter God. You may not know this - but it is actually illegal for a priest to celebrate communion on their own. Or at least, if I were to do so, the church teaches that it would not be communion. The prayers of consecration would have no effect. Communion has to involve at least two people - who come together and encounter God in their togetherness.

The Lord’s Supper - as a phrase - is rather more meaningful, I think. It points us back to the historical event of Jesus sharing his last Passover supper with his disciples...and it reminds us of the layers of meaning that Jesus attached to the elements of that meal. “This is my body”. “This is my blood”.

In many ways, it’s my favourite title for what we are doing together today. It is a phrase which does two things - it points backwards to an historical event. But it is also said in the present tense. It’s not ‘the Memorial of the Lord’s Supper’ - but it is the ‘Lord’s Supper’ itself. By using that phrase, we become participants in that last supper. We become the disciples seated around that table - puzzling over precisely what he meant by labelling a loaf of bread as his body, and a cup of wine as his blood. Some people have taken it to mean that the bread and wine become the actual, physical, body and blood of Jesus - and indeed, wars have been fought over how to interpret His words.

I personally think that goes a bit far. I don’t know what the Church of Scotland teaches on that point, but the Church of England is clear that the only sense in which the bread and wine become the body and blood of Jesus is a spiritual sense. When we consume them, the bread remains bread, and the wine remains wine, but they are somehow, mysteriously suffused with God. By his ‘amazing grace’, he enters into these things even more deeply than He is already present in everything. They become not just tokens of the physical food that we all need to survive, and which God graciously gives us...but they become tokens of the spiritual food which we all need as well.

But there is a two-way process going on. The Lord’s Supper, the Communion, the Mass, the Eucharist is not just about God giving us ‘manna’ from heaven to sustain us on our spiritual journeys. It is also about us saying ‘yes’ to being part of God’s life on this planet. It is about us saying that we choose to be in communion with God, and with each other, and that we choose to be part of his plan for the healing of the World. This is not a memorial to a long distant event - even a memorial only of the sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross. Jesus did not give us death by his death...he offered us life. When we eat and drink these things, we say ‘yes’, thankfully, eucharistically, to his offer of life...life for ourselves, and life for the world.

Each Sunday, then, as you approach this Lord’s Table, and participate in this Lord’s Supper, may you approach with a heart that is full of anticipation - full of thanksgiving, yes, but also full of excitement at the knowledge that God has invited you...yes you and me...to participate in His life, and in his plan to heal the World. As you take the bread, and drink the wine, may you silently state your ‘yes’ - your commitment to being part of all that God has in store for you, and for your family, and for your neighbours, and for our World.

And whether you do it every Sunday, or just four times a year as our Scottish brethren do, may you never lose that sense of excitement, wonder, and mystery that is at the heart of this simple meal.

Amen

Sex and Seduction

Mark 6: 14-29

On Friday night, at an end of term party for the choir, I happened to mention that I was going to be preaching about sex on Sunday. One of them, who shall remain nameless, immediately responded "Oh No! I've been doing that all day!". After everyone had a good laugh, and the lady in question had a wonderful blush, she explained that what she meant was that the children at her school had been doing 'Personal and Social Development' all day - and that they had been learning about sex!

This story of the beheading of John the Baptist is one of the more gruesome stories in the Bible; gruesome not just because of the hideous notion of presenting a man's head on a platter - but, I think, even more so because of what it says about the power of seduction, and the allure of sex.

Picture the scene. The daughter of Herodias, who was in fact the niece of the King, was asked to dance for Herod and his guests at a banquet. Her dance is known as the dance of the seven veils... and has been repeated throughout history in ballets and operas. It's a seductive dance - one from which other middle eastern dances sprang...like the alluring 'belly dance'. Lots of shaking hips, and wobbling mamary glands! By tradition, the dance involved the successive removal of seven veils; each one showing a little bit more of the dancer and her face. It was a tease...literally the fore-runner of the strip-tease. It was designed to titilate, and to drive the male audience into a frenzy of desire.

Well, it certainly worked on Herod. He didn't worry too much about the fact that this was her his niece. After-all, he had already married his dead brother's wife (for which John the Baptist had condemned him). Ruling families in those days quite often married their family members. The Egyptians, for example, often married their sisters and their daughters as a way, they thought, of keeping the royal blood-line pure. (Of course, madness was often the result).

So Herod, being part of that culture, paid no attention to the fact that the dancing girl was his niece. What he saw was simply an alluring young woman, slowly and deliberately removing layer after layer of clothing. You can imagine him clapping his hands, sighing and mooning over the girl. At the end of her dance, captivated by her beauty, and letting his royal guard down for a moment, he said, "Ask me for whatever you want, and I'll give it to you....up to half of my kingdom!"

That was it - the girl rushed back to her mother who seems to have been a rather manipulative sort of person. Half of Herod's kingdom didn't really amount to much. Herod was only a vassal King, who ruled with the permission of the Romans - who actually owned the land. Herodias knew that even half a kingdom of goats and desert wasn't worth much. But she did see her chance to rid herself of the prophet, John, who had been a thorn in her side for a long time. "Ask him for the head of John the Baptist", she said.

And so, because he couldn't go back on his royal word in front of his guests, Herod reluctantly ordered John to be executed.

Herod had weakened. The power of the sexual urge is very strong. Throughout history, great men have often been brought down by it. Helen of Troy - over whom two great nations went to war. Cleopatra. Delilah. Greek myth is laden with men who have gone to their deaths for beautiful women. Sex-starved sailors have often been lured to rocks because of the mere possibility of glimpsing a mermaid.

In our own time, marketing professionals know the power of seduction. We've all seen the perfume adverts, and the car commercials. I wonder. Do you think I drive a Renault because an advert once told me to 'shake a little ass'?!

At the darker end of seduction, we all know stories of people who have been drawn into obsessions with sex...people who have given into their primal urges at all sorts of levels - from pornography, all the way down through wife-swapping and orgies, as far as the great evil of paedophilia.

We might well ask what this is all about. How has this sexual urge within us come to be so fundamental to us? Why is it so strong? If our picture of God is of one who designs the world with intricate care, what (we might wonder) is God doing when he makes us to be such powerfully sexual people?

Well, at one level its a relatively simple answer. According to the Hebrew Bible, God's command to creation, and to human in particular, was "Be fruitful, and multiply". The sexual desire is ultimately rooted in the desire to pro-create...to pass on our genes to the next generation. And let's face it, the sexual urge is a powerful tool in that act of pro-creation. For one thing, it helps us to overcome our more natural urge to sit on the sofa, on our own, with a bar of Toblerone!

But there's more to it than that. As men and women who are made in the image of God, we are sexual beings. We relate to each other in all sorts of ways that are coloured by our sexuality. I was recently reading some guidance for people involved in one-to-one counselling situations. The guidance was essentially focused on creating safe, non-threatening situations...avoiding the possibility of inappropriate sexual behaviour. The guidance said that it is important to acknowledge the place of our sexuality in such relationships.

Counsellors - whether they be church ministers, or psychologists - need of course to be aware of the possibilities for exploitation of vulnerable people who seek their help. Body language, the way that chairs are placed, having someone else around in another room - all these are bits of advice that are offered to give protection to everyone involved. But while all of that is vital, the guidance said that we need to acknowledge, and even celebrate, the fact that our sexuality is a resource for ministry. That is because, (and I quote) our sexuality is "a relational power, supplying energy for creativity, responsiveness, passion and commitment. It is also a means of being present to those who are hurting as well as being passionately devoted to setting relationships right...our sexuality is the ordinary medium through which God's love moves to touch, to create, to heal." (Richard M. Gula, 1996, Ethics in Pastoral Ministry, New York: Paulist).

Our sexuality, then, is one of the God given ways in which we relate to each other. It has sometimes been suggested that one of the reasons that some parts of the Church has resisted the ordination of women is because many women find that they can relate more easily to a male priest. If they are heterosexual, women can find it easier to connect with someone of the opposite gender...and that's because issues of sexuality come into play.

Our sexuality then is a gift from God, that enables us to connect with other people. When two people are in love, we are not at all surprised when one of them is able to sense at a deep level how the other is feeling. But that ability to sense, and have compassion for others, isn't just something which manifests itself through romance. It is something that is in us all - waiting to be fanned into desire for one particular person, but always there, subliminally, in the way in which we feel, and love, and care for all people.

But, like all of God's gifts, our sexuality needs to be carefully and properly managed. There are clear boundaries which the people of the Bible have set for us. Our sexuality, while always with us, and always part of us, should only be allowed it's most unfettered expression within the bounds of faithful, committed relationships. Anytime that we allow ourselves to be seduced by the lure of sex in the marketplace, on the street, in the magazine or on the internet - then we let our sexuality get out of balance. Instead of being a force for love, care, compassion and commitment to others, it can be twisted into a morbid, self-satisfying desire for personal gratification. The Bible teaches us that we find our fullest expression of our humanity through loving God, and loving our neighbour. But when we start to seek our own gratification first - we get out of balance. We can become obsessive, wrapped up in our desire for the next sexual experience. We can quickly forget the higher purpose and calling for which we were made...the love, of others, including God, before ourselves - and the calling to be changed from glory into glory...ever more like the self-giving God in whose image we are made.

Of course it isn't only sex that can seduce us. The world is full of many seductive temptations. We can be seduced into believing that wealth will make us happy, or that a new set of clothes, or that new car, will fullfil our deepest desire. We can be seduced into believing that another cigarette is all we need, or that another pint of beer will bring us happiness. But how are we to be able to judge? How can we stay in balance when so many seductions are around us...when so many metaphorical dances of the seven veils are being danced around us?

Jesus gave us a piece of advice that may perhaps guide us. "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Matthew 6:21). You see, the way we choose to spend our money, or our time, says a great deal about which seductions we have given in to. I want to suggest to you that this is, again, a question of balance.

Let's try a little exercise together. Let me invite you to think about what you spend your money on, week by week. Leave aside all the essential stuff - the rent, the mortgage, the petrol, the council tax, the weekly food-bill. The question I want you to ask yourself is "what do I spend my disposable income on - the money that is left over after the bills are paid?" Then, ask yourself "what is the largest single expenditure that I make from my disposable income?".

Just think about that for a moment.

What do you spend your cash on?

Is it life-affirming? Does it reflect your (and my) calling to be people who love God and love our neighbour?

How does the amount you spend on that one item...or one luxury...compare to the amount of money you give to relieve poverty or sickness? Or for the work of God in this church?

"Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."

You can, of course, do precisely the same exercise with your time. We all have at least some spare time.How much of it is used up doing things that are life-affirming and love-sharing? And how much in things that we have been seduced into doing by marketing managers and television producers?

Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."

Please don't misunderstand me. I don't want you to leave here today feeling miserable and guilt-ridden! I simply want to invite us all, in the light of the story of Herodias' daughter, to become alert to the question "what am I seduced by?" Maybe it's sex. Maybe it's alcohol. Maybe it's TV or computer games. Maybe it's food. Maybe it's consumerism. Maybe it's the desire to gossip. There are very few of us who are not, at one time or another, seduced by something.

Our task as people who are striving to be more like our creator is to recognises what seduces us...and then to learn from the story of Herod. Our task is to lay aside our personal seduction, before it consumes us or leads us into real difficulty - as it did for Herod. Our task is to re-distribute our time, and our money, into spending and tasks that are life-affirming, and life-enhancing.

For where our treasure is, there will our hearts be also.

Amen

Communal Breathing

Mark 6:1-13: Communal Breathing

As you know, I was away last weekend. It's good to be back with you again - although I have to tell you, I had a wonderful time away. I was privileged to conduct the wedding of a young man who, 20-something years ago, was a paige-boy to Clare and me at our own wedding.

It was quite an occasion. The wedding took place in a sleepy little village on the edge of Falmouth harbour. The couple's friends and family were all there - and most of the friends were 'surfer-dudes' of various descriptions. Some of them clearly didn't own a suit for such an occasion - so various forms of dress were on display, including tee-shirts and flip-flops. I particularly enjoyed the pair of flip-flops that one fellow had - because, on the sole, he had a cunning little device that could be used to open beer bottles!

The Bride was famous locally for being somewhat immune to the tirany of the clock. So no-one was particularly surprised that the wedding started nearly 25 minutes late. However, the poor girl was so plainly nervous, that before her grand entrance, in an entrancing dress, she nearly hyperventilated in the churchyard. She just about got her breathing under control before she walked up the aisle - but one could see her making an extra-special effort to breathe as she came. In. Out. In. Out.

It was a wonderful wedding - and an even more wonderful reception. There was a real sense of community in that village, and among those people. There was the kind of community, the kind of mutual care and concern, that one can find in the very best Christian communities.

But as I reflected on the wedding, and especially on the entrance of the Bride, I began to see another parrallel with Christian communities. Watching the bride breathing in, out, in, out, reminded me that belonging to a Christian community has a similar pattern.

Week by week we come together. We come 'in' to our church buildings, and gather around the Lord's Table. But then, at the end of the service, we ask God to 'send us out in the power of his Spirit, to live and work to his praise and glory.' The very last words that the priest says to the congregation are 'Go, in the peace of Christ, to love and serve the Lord', to which the congregation replies 'In the name of Christ, Amen'.

There is, then, a sort of communal breathing which takes place as we gather. A sort of in, out, in, out. We come together, encourage one another, receive spiritual nourishment, and then we go out into the world 'to love and serve the Lord'.

There is a church I've heard about, somewhere in Wales, where there are words written over the church door. They are written on the inside, where they can be read by everyone who leaves the building. They read 'the mission field starts here'. They are startling words for some - especially for those who imagine that coming to church is what being a Christian is all about. But those who are the most startled have forgotten that Jesus first called his disciples to 'come' - but that he then told them to 'go'. "Come and follow me", and then "Go and make disciples". In, out, in, out.

In today's Gospel we see Jesus sending out his disciples for the first time. There's a few things that we might want to notice about this simple story. First, we might want to notice that these disciples are not the experienced, post-resurrection 'super-apostles' who he later sends out to the four corners of the world. This event takes place in the early chapters of Mark's gospel. It takes place before so many events, so much teaching, so much experience has still to be gathered by the Disciples. But that doesn't stop Jesus sending them out.

I think we should take comfort from that fact. Jesus sends out his followers, under his authority, even though they are raw recruits, failing human beings, who often mess things up and get things wrong. He sends them out even though they have not been to bible college, even though they have not been made bishops, even though they are not the preachers in their local congregations. In other words, he sends them out as ordinary, every day, believers...nothing more, nothing less. All that is needed to be sent by Jesus is the simple faith of a child - the simple belief that Jesus's message of healing, love, and a total opposition to evil is the right message for the world to hear.

The second thing we might want to note is the instructions that Jesus gives his followers, as he sends them out. Here are those instructions again, from verse 8: "Take nothing for the journey except a staff - no bread, no bag, no money in your belts. Wear sandals but not an extra tunic. Whenever you enter a house, stay there until you leave that town."

There's a lot going on in these instructions - far more than we have time to go into in depth. One obvious conclusion we can draw is that Jesus wanted his followers to rely on God for their provisions throughout their journey. But there is something else too.

Scholars tell us that at the time of Jesus there were a number of wandering philosophers - a group known as the Cynics. The nearest equivilent to the Cynics that we might have encountered would be 'hippies' or 'anarchists'. The Cynics were wandering preachers, influenced by Greek thought, who lived on the edge of society. They tried to encourage people to give up entirely on materialism and government as a way of living. They habitually carried a bag and a staff (which they would sometimes beat people with!) and a bag, but they wore no sandals.

Jesus, on the other hand, specifically says that his disciples may carry a staff, but no bag...and that they should wear sandals. Jesus is perhaps making sure that his disciples, as they wander from town to town, won't merely be dismissed as some of 'those odd Cynics'. He wants people to recognise his disciples as something different, something new, something special.

The question for us is how are we to be recognised as God's people when we leave this place today? That's fairly easy for me. I wear this clerical collar-thing...which some of you insist on calling my 'dog-collar'! I wear it so that the people of this area will see that they have a priest living among them...unlike most of the other professions. I wonder whether you've ever noticed that priests are often the only professionals who still live among the people they serve. Teachers, bank managers, solicitors, the police, even many local shop-keepers - many of them do not live in the places that they work. Their interaction with their community is purely professional...not personal. The church strives to be different. We strive to keep our priests in their communities...as recognisable, real signs of the Kingdom of God among those communities.

But what about those of us who don't wear 'dog-collars'? What about me, when I don't wear my collar? Some people choose to wear a lapel badge...perhaps a cross, or a fish symbol. Some people wear tee-shirts, like the one that my daughter sometimes wears, with thought-provoking slogans like "Who would Jesus bomb?". Some people have a fish-symbol, or cross, on the back of their car...though I'm always a bit dubious about that. I find that other car drivers are often so impatient that they will curse all Christians everywhere if I am simply driving at the speed limit! I dread to think what they would say about Christians if I make a mistake, or accidentally cut someone up!

But fish-signs and crosses are all external signs. There are other ways, even more important ways, that we can be recognisable as the people of God in our own community, or workplace. Those ways come down to the way we interact with other people...and the ways that we behave. The challenge for each of us to live, and act, and talk in ways that mark us out as different from other people. We are people who, as we say on our new website, 'have discovered that a spiritual life is a better life'. People around us may begin to think about spiritual things too, when they observe us living in spiritual ways.

Sometimes that might mean that we actively refuse to collude with the world's ways of doing things. It might mean that when we are out for a drink with our non-spiritual friends, we move more quickly than them from the alcoholic drinks to the soft ones...so that we maintain our control of our words and actions. It might mean that when our less-spiritual friends start to bitch about their workmates or neighbours, that we refuse to collude in 'character assassination'. Perhaps we might interject a little thought into such conversations? We might say something like "I wonder what so-and-so is going through to make them act like that".

Perhaps when people around us are moaning about the crime on our streets, we might say something like "Yes, but isn't it amazing how we only hear about the bad stuff...actually, for most people, life goes well and God is good". Perhaps when people moan about immigrants coming to steal our jobs, we might say "I wonder how I would feel if I was living in poverty or war...perhaps I would want to seek a better life elsewhere". You see, our task as disciples of Jesus is to be 'salt and light'. Our task is to bring healing to the world, and to to fight evil, cynicism, hatred and negativity where-ever we find it.

Jesus gave his first disciples the authority over evil spirits. I don't know what you believe about evil spirits themselves...I tend to think of them as a metaphor for human evil. But clearly, Jesus gives us the authority, and the power, to undermine evil wherever we encounter it. He calls us preach good news. He calls us to bring healing by our words and by our actions. He calls us to speak of a God who is Lord of a Postive Kingdom.

So, my prayer for each of us today is that as we breathe in the power of God through the rest of this service, we might prepare ourselves to breath God out to our communities, our neighbours, our friends, our work-mates and our families. In, out, in, out.

May you know the power of the Positive Kingdom in every part of your life. May you know the joy of undermining evil whenever you encounter it. May you know the privilege of being sent by Jesus to be salt and light to the world around you. Amen.

Seed

Mark 4:26-34

When Joseph, our new Ghanaian friend, first came to live with us, I took him on a tour of the house and garden. When we went out into the garden, I proudly showed him our pond, our wildflower border, and our carefully trimmed bushes. I then pointed to what, last year, was a feeble attempt at a vegetable patch. I told Joseph that we had grown some rather pathetic vegetables there last year, but that this year we were planning to grow some more wildflowers and meadow grass. His response was fascinating.

"Flowers!" he said, "Flowers! You can't use God's good earth to grow flowers! Earth is for growing food!"

I protested. "But we can get all the food we want from the supermarket - for a lot less hassle!"

"And where do supermarkets get their food from then?" asked Joseph. "And how much do they charge you for them? You could get all the food you want from your own garden, for free!"

I have to confess, his logic was irresistible...and so began the task of preparing the ground for new vegetables. It was back-breaking work...but now that we've got potatoes, and courgettes, and tomatoes and beetroot and lettuce and all sorts of other lovely stuff popping up through the soil...I think its going to be worth it.

If the slugs don't get there first!

Jesus, of course, lived in an agricultural community. Unless they could till the soil, or throw out the fishing nets, most people in Jesus time would have starved. That's why Jesus' parables are so often connected to the land, or the sea, in some way. It was an image drawn from everyday life. People knew straight away what he was talking about. So when he talked about growing seeds, or the tiny mustard seed that becomes one of the largest of all plants, we can imagine the people around him nodding, agreeing, empathising with what he was saying.

But for us, unless we've grown our own food, some of the intimate connection with these stories can be missing. Of course, we all know the theory...we all know something about how seed grow, for example. But unlike the people of Jesus' day, we are not engaged with growing crops every day. We do not have those daily reminders that people who live off the soil have. Once you have heard the parable of the sower, it is impossible to sow your own seeds without being reminded of the story. As you are sowing, you see some seeds fall onto stones, or onto the path, or into the good soil...and you remember the parable. But that is not the experience of most people. In fact, I'm quite sure that if Jesus had lived today, he would have used some very different stories.

Many - if not most - of Jesus' stories are aimed at illustrating what the Kingdom of his father is like. Perhaps if Jesus had been talking to us, he might have said something like...

"The Kingdom of heaven is like a woman who goes shopping on North End High Street. As she wanders down the road, she decides to spend her money in certain shops. In the first shop, a bakery, she finds some delicious cream cakes, which she eagerly consumes But verily, the fat from those same cakes has attached itself to her thighs...and she feeleth miserable! A little further along the road, she wanders into a betting shop (of which there are a plethora on North End High Street!). Tempted by the slimmest chance that her life would be better if she had more money, she puts a £20 bet on a horse. And verily, the horse falls over at the first fence, and the woman is sore afraid of what her family will say. Her sorrow and fear is such that her next stop is in the Wetherspoons pub, where verily, there is a special offer on. The woman decides to drown her sorrows in a vodka glass or three, and reviews her situation. She realises that she has now gained weight, lost money, and is thoroughly bazooka'ad. What will she do?

Overweight, skint and drunk, she staggers into the St Mark's Community Cafe, where she sits exhausted with life upon a chair. A Cafe volunteer comes over to her, and hears the story of her awful day. He gives her a free cup of strong coffee, and some free advice on the benefit of eating five fruit and vegetable portions a day. He encourages her to be strong when passing the door of one of the many betting shops... and to use her money to bring pleasure and health to her family, rather than to the family of the book-maker. Strengthened by his sound advice, the woman decides to change the whole pattern of her life...and lives happily ever after!

It's a crude analogy, I know...but I genuinely think it is the kind of parable that Jesus would have told. It's a bit of a blend of the Prodigal Son, and the Parable of the Seed, and the Good Samaritan!

One of the points of such parables was to demonstrate that we have clear choices to make, about the kind of people we want to be. The Kingdom of God is a place of growth and positivity. It's a place where people choose to live in a way that embraces life in all its fullness, not fullness as a substitute for life. In other words, the Kingdom of God is a way of living that brings fullness of the spirit... not a way of living which wrongly assumes that being full - of food, of possessions, of bank-account - is the way to happiness.

But there's more. Not only is the Kingdom of God about the choices that we make - its also about the choice that God makes...a choice to keep on acting in our lives, and in the world, drawing us ever onwards, deeper and deeper into the Divine Life. That is one of the possible meanings for the first of Jesus parables in the Gospel reading we just heard.

Jesus says, essentially, that the Kingdom of Heaven is like a man who scatters seed in his field - and then goes off and forgets about it. He sleeps, he goes about during the day doing other things...but all the while, the seed is sprouting and growing - until it becomes ready for harvest.

One way of looking at this parable, is certainly to say that God's seed in our hearts, his seed of love, has a way of keeping on growing...how ever much we forget him. We might forget God, but God never forgets us. God is constantly at work within us, and around us, and through us. We can forget God, obscure God, seek even to run from God...but God never stops reaching out to us.

That's why, as the choir will sing a little later, God sent Jesus into the world. Because, you see, God so loves the world, that he sends his son - not to condemn the world, but to transform it, to re-make it, to build it, to heal it, to 'save' it. And, like the Hebrew mustard seed which grows into a mighty bush, Jesus' actions among us and for us and in us keep on growing.

Of course, there are other ways of looking at this parable of the 'growing seed' - other ways that are just as in tune with the purposes of God. That's the beauty of parables. They can have many layers of meaning, all wrapped up in simple story. One other way, for example, is to view the farmer as us, instead of God. We are capable of sowing seeds. We are capable of touching other lives with small gifts of love - and then going about our own business oblivious to the growth that then takes place. Consider, for example, the potential effect of, say, a gift of five pounds, given to save the sight of one child in Africa. Imagine that child, then, as a result of not having lost their sight, going on to become a politician who solves the current crisis in Zimbabwe...or who becomes a doctor that saves the lives of thousands of others. Five pounds...one small seed...can indeed become a mighty tree.

And that's not just true for Africa. It's true in the life of our own church. The mustard seed of time, given to raise money for our ministry here, means that week by week, day by day, people in this parish are being blessed by our presence among them. School assemblies, people who are mourning, people celebrating their marriage (as a couple did here yesterday) people growing in their own walk with God, lonely people needing visits in their own home - all of this takes place because of the seeds YOU sow, every time you give up time, or indeed money, to keep this church running.

So may you be encouraged this morning; encouraged by the knowledge that God never gives up on us, however much we forget God. May you be encouraged that even the smallest gift that you sow, can grow into a mighty tree. May you be encouraged to know that we worship a God who is on the move; in us, around us and through us...planting his seeds as we plant our own. Amen

Holy, Holy, Holy - the Three in One God

Preached at St Nicholas' Church, Battenburg Avenue, Portsmouth on Sunday 7th June 09
Note: This sermon is loosely based on an idea of Rob Bell from his DVD "The God's Aren't Angry" .

Once upon time there was a cave woman, who lived in cave...as cave-women did in those days. Outside her cave was a tree. And verily, it came to pass, that Cave-woman noticed something about this tree. She noticed that when it rained, the tree seemed to come alive. She also noticed that after just the right amount of rain and sun, and at certain times of the year, the tree produced delicious fruit that she could gather for food.
Now Cave-Woman had a cave-husband - who wasn't especially interested in fruit. He preferred his food to have been running around before he killed it and ate it, fresh. Cave-husband used to go off with his mates to hunt animals. Sometimes they would be gone for days at a time...and when they returned home, they would talk about the hunt, around the campfire. Each hunt was different. Sometimes it would be an easy hunt. Sometimes they would have to chase their prey for days and days. Cave-husband and his mates used to talk about each hunt as if it had its own spirit. They wondered why each hunt was so different. Could it be that someone, or something, was affecting how each hunt went?
Cave-woman would listen to these stories around the campfire. She saw similarities between the hunters' talk about the hunt, and her own observations about her tree...the one outside her cave. She had noticed that the amount of fruit her tree produced would alter from season to season, and by how much rain or sun there had been.
One night, Cave-woman said to Cave-husband, "I wonder whether there are forces that interfere in some way with my tree, and your hunt". "Hmm," replied Cave-husband, "perhaps you are right." That would explain why every hunt is different. I wonder if there is a way to communicate with these forces...to make them do what we want them to do for us?" Cave-woman thought for a moment. "Where do you think these forces might be?" she asked. "Well," replied Cave-husband, "I reckon they must be up in the sky...looking down on us. After all, that's where the big burning yellow thing is. And that's where the rain comes from. They must be sent by these forces".
"I know!" said Cave-woman "What if we were to put some of my fruit, and some of your last hunt up on the top of that hill...and maybe set fire to it? Then the forces will smell the smoke from our food, and will know that we are grateful to them...that we are not keeping it all for ourselves. Maybe then they will help us to find more food?" "Great idea," said Cave-husband. "Let's do it!"
And so began the practice of making burnt offerings to the forces in the sky...forces that came to be known as 'the gods'. There were gods for everything. Gods of fruit, gods of rain, gods of the hunt, gods of the lake. One of my favourites is the god of beer! And the more that people thought about these gods, the more connected to them they became. But, over time, this business of trying to please the gods became a bit of a problem. People began to puzzle over why the gods didn't always respond to their offerings and prayers. A time of drought would come; but no matter how much food was burned on the top of the mountain - as a gift to the rain god - no rain would fall. More and more food was offered, but still the rain didn't come. Now the people found that they had burned all their food...and still there was no rain. People started to ask themselves whether something more was required by the gods. Perhaps the gods were angry, and needed something even more. An even greater sacrifice.
"Perhaps," they said to themselves, "perhaps if we were to cut ourselves, and let some of our blood fall onto the hill-top...perhaps the gods would then know how sorry we were for whatever it is we have done to offend them. Perhaps then they would send the rain?". So people began to cut themselves, and whip themselves, letting their blood fall on the mountain-top. But still the rain didn't come.
"What else can we do?" the people asked themselves. And then, one day, some bright spark said, "perhaps the gods need an even greater sacrifice, before they will come to our aid. Perhaps we must sacrifice something that is so precious to us - something we could not bear to live without. Perhaps we should sacrifice one of our very own children?!" There was initial horror at this suggestion. "Surely not! No! We can't do that". But still the rain didn't come. And after many weeks of arguing, it was decided to draw lots, to see whose child would have to be sacrificed on the hill-top. Eventually, one family, unwillingly, desparately, for the good of the people, agreed to let one of their children be sacrificed.
And the day after, the rains came. That did it. That happy co-incidence meant that now people thought they understood what the gods wanted. And so all sorts of horrific sacrifices began...human sacrifices, child sacrifices. Children's bodies were built into the walls of houses - to protect the house from evil, by pleasing the local gods. Children were carried up to mountain-tops, at key points of the year, and sacrificed to bring the spring.
Into that kind of world, and that kind of culture, the Bible tells us that a certain man came. His name was Abraham - and he was a traveller. He explored the world around him, and travelled for many miles around the world as he knew it. As he travelled, he became convinced that all these small gods were false, that at best they were pale manifestations of one supreme being, one God above all other gods, one creative force that bound the universe together. For a while, however, he still imagined that this one God had the same bloodlust as all the small gods. And so when, at a great old age, he unexpectedly became a dad, he thought that his duty was to sacrifice his new son to God. So he set off for a nearby mountain-top, to carry out his duty.
But when he got to the mountain-top, he had what we think of as a mountain-top experience. Suddenly, it all became clear. "Why," he thought, "would God give me the wonderful gift of this son, just to have me kill him as a sacrifice? It doesn't make any sense. Surely there is another reason why I have been given a son at such a great age?" At that moment, he noticed a ram, with its horns caught in the bushes on the side of the mountain. He saw this as a sign...a sign from God that indeed, the sacrifice of children was not what God wanted. Joyfully, he caught hold of the ram...and sacrificed it instead, as a substitute for his son. A new day had dawned in the world's understanding of God.
Over the centuries that followed, Abraham's descendants slowly began to change the world's understanding of what God was like. Abraham's many-time great great grandson, Moses, eventually managed to write-up a body of law which limited the sacrifices that people could make to God...limited them to something rather more reasonable than the sacrifice of a precious child. A dove, a sheep, a cow - a simple transaction which amounted to: sacrifice this thing, and walk away, knowing that you've done all that needs to be done. Sacrifice just this much, and no more, to be sure that God is pleased with you.
But even this limit on sacrifice didn't go far enough for some. People known as prophets rose up from among the people and said to them "Don't bother any more with your sacrifices of animals. God doesn't want you doing that anymore. He isn't interested in you trying to earn his love...he loves you anyway. What he wants is for you to live as he calls you to live...to live openly, honestly, generously and lovingly towards your neighbours." But these prophets were largely ignored. Thankfully, their words were written down for us...we can read their frustrated cries in the pages of the Hebrew Bible. But they were still ignored. After all, the leaders of the people, the priests, had grown very wealthy on the system of sacrificing. They had lots and lots of very good financial reasons to continue going on just the way they were. Until another man entered human history...
That man was none other than Jesus of Nazareth - a man who was so in touch with God, so obviously connected to God that people began to speak of him as the Son of God. He was a man like no other. He talked to God in an intimate way...setting aside the language of fear and awe which had been used of God in the past. Instead, he spoke about God as a heavenly Father...someone whose whole being was bent on loving the world, on caring for it, on making it a better place. He introduced the people to a God whose actions in the world were always for the benefit of the world...the world which he himself had created.
But this Jesus was ahead of his time. Those religious leaders who had so much wealth invested in the old system of sacrifice - they saw him as a threat to their way of life, to their power. And so they killed him. They arranged for him to be nailed onto a cross of wood.
And then something wonderful happened. Somehow, the Jesus who had been murdered, came back to life. He appeared again to his followers, and promised them that he would always be with them. And he promised that the loving, heavenly Father that he had taught them about would always be with them too. And, even more than that, he promised them that God's Spirit would always be among them...leading them ever onwards into a deeper and deeper understanding of who God was, and who they were.
And that, dear friends, is why today we celebrate the feast of the Trinity. We believe in a God who is anything but a small rain god, or an insignificant fruit-tree God. We believe in a God who is anything but some kind of force who may, or may not, respond to human attempts to gain his favour. Instead, we believe in a God who is the Creator of the Universe, the source of everything that exists. We believe in a God who loves his creation with a passion so great that he turned round the whole idea of human sacrifice by sacrificing himself. His message to the world, on that cross of wood, was "Look! I don't want your sacrifices of blood. I'm going to sacrifice myself just to show you how little I need your children and your animals to be slain. Look! I can do all that is necessary myself...your animals even your own children could never be as precious as me. I don't want your blood...I want your love. I don't want you to try and appease my anger...I want you to just start living right - I want you to have life to the full!
We believe in a God who is so devoted to his creation - like a mother is devoted to her children - that he gives us his own power, deep within us, to draw us ever onwards towards the depth of his being. We believe not in a god who is angry, capricious and blood-thirsty - but who is Holy, Holy, Holy. We believe in a God who is Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer of the world. Mother, healer and life-force. Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
Cave-woman and Cave-man - perhaps their names were something like Adam and Eve - they had caught a glimpse of this God. They had understood, deep down, that there were divine, spiritual, other-worldly forces at play...that there was more to life than just the molecules on which they stood. They took the first steps towards trying to understand that nature of those forces...but, like all of us, they made mistakes.
Their story is also our story. We too have glimpsed something of the divine nature of the universe...but our human senses are too weak, too frail, too cluttered with the very business of surviving to be able to completely understand the nature of the divine force which surrounds us and sustains us. We are still on a journey of discovery.
We still don't understand entirely how our bodies manage to operate. We don't understand how the taking in of the oxygen we breathe manages to keep us alive...we just know that it does.  So how could we imagine that we are ready to know how the creative force of God sustains all things?  But we are learning. Like our ancestors who, piece by piece, assembled the jigsaw that we call the Bible... we are beginning to get it. We are beginning to understand that God, Father Son and Holy Spirit; Mother, Healer and Life-giver; Holy Holy Holy is intimately bound up with our existence... creating us, healing us, sustaining us.
There is much that is still mysterious to us. There is much that people will tell us we must believe that we ought to be wise enough to hold provisionally...as a clue to the true nature of God, but not the final word. But there is much that we can be certain of...much that is worth embracing. Love, healing, wholeness and life to the full...these are the stuff of a worthwhile, continued search for the three-in-one God. Amen?