Readings are 1 Corinthians 9:19-end and Luke 22:24-30
For those of you who watched the coronation service yesterday, I wonder what moments really stood out to you…
There were many iconic moments, but there are two I want to share with you today. The first was the very beginning of the coronation. The first words spoken were spoken by 14 year old Samuel Strachan, the longest serving boy chorister at the Abbey who said in ringing tones:
Your Majesty, As children of the Kingdom of God We welcome you in the name of the King of kings
To which King Charles replied:
In his name and after his example I come not to be served but to serve.
A service of such pomp and circumstance, such historic significance, at which Archbishops, Heads of State, Dukes, Military Leaders and Prime Ministers were present, was opened by a child.
The second moment that made me stop and sit up was when the Archbishop of York blessed the newly crowned King Charles. He used the words of an ancient blessing, found early in the Old Testament, used by God’s children from their days wandering in the desert:
The Lord bless you and keep you The Lord makes his face to shine upon you and be gracious unto to you. The Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.
I know this blessing by heart because when I was a very little girl at my first church in Scotland, we used to sing it over newly christened babies as they were carried round the church by the minister. It was our blessing upon them as they officially became citizens of the Kingdom of God. A Kingdom in which the merest scrap of a baby and the King of the United Kingdom and overseas territories and Head of state for many countries in the Commonwealth stand before God as equal and beloved children.
But more than that, in our Gospel reading today, Jesus tells his followers that if they are to live as citizens of his Kingdom, they will not seek importance and power, but rather become like the youngest and least. In doing so they follow the example of their King who came among us not to be served but to serve.
In his brief homily, the Archbishop of Canterbury dropped this absolute beauty of a line:
His throne was a Cross. His crown was made of thorns. His regalia were the wounds that pierced his body.
In following the King of Kings, as citizens of the Kingdom of God, we must not seek power, privilege and personal interest, but like Paul give our all to serve others and share the love of God.
Because as Paul knows, the crowns and thrones of this world are passing things, but the table, the thrones and the crowns God gives to his children, when we’ve run our race, will last forever.
So today, we do pray for the King and Queen, that they will ever use their position and influence to serve. And we recommit ourselves to the King of Kings, Jesus, to following him in the path of loving service as we trust and hope that one day our crown awaits us in heaven.
I struggle to “feel” Ascension as a part of the Christian story. I mean I get it, but I don’t feel it if that makes sense? Partly, this might be because I came from a church tradition where it didn’t really figure as part of the church year. I am not sure I knew there WAS an Ascension Day before I started theological college!
But I think one of the other reasons I struggle with Ascension is that I am not very good at goodbyes. Not the sort of goodbyes where someone is popping down to the shops, but the goodbyes that mean a stage of life or relationship is ending and a new one beginning. Leaving my curacy churches was excoriating. I can remember wishing that it was possible just to do my last Sunday service, hand in my keys and go without any fuss.
I wonder why I dislike these goodbyes so much. I think that partly it is because these changes in stages mean that inevitably you take stock of what you have done. You celebrate the things you have shared, but there will always be loose ends, a bit of unfinished business, the things not achieved. And as a recovering perfectionist, I find facing up to the things not done – and things that will now never be done – hard.
But in Jesus’ goodbye, we don’t have this problem. Jesus has achieved everything needed, everything he was asked to do. He lived among us, loved us, died for us, defeated death, conquered sin, made a way for us to be reconciled with God and inaugurated a new Kingdom of justice, love and peace. Mission accomplished and more. On the cross he cried “It is finished!” but in Ascension, it truly is. God made God’s home among us so one day we might go home to God, and Jesus leads the way. As Oswald Chambers said: our Lord entered heaven and he keeps the door open for humanity to enter!
And while I might had fantasized about sneaking off from my curacy churches without any fuss, the reality is that it wasn’t right for either my churches or me. Goodbyes are important.
If you watch daytime telly these days, it is impossible to avoid adverts for direct cremation. Some clergy get very sniffy about this, but I have every sympathy with people who want to have a simple send-off when they die that doesn’t cost them or their family a small fortune. I think that the church should be proactive in engaging with people who want this option – we have lots to offer. But alarm bells ring when the adverts suggest no fuss, as if a funeral is a bad thing. Of course, the person who dies doesn’t want a fuss – but perhaps their family do. We need our goodbyes. We need our moment of remembrance, a moment to be sad even as we are thankful, our moment to hope either that our loved one lives on in us or in heaven. We need to feel we have done our last act of love for those we have lost. Whether that moment is in a church or on a beach or in a hot air balloon, we struggle without it.
Goodbyes help us let go of what has been and look forward for what is to come. Jesus’ ascension helps his disciples let go of one way of knowing him, and prepare to know God in a whole other way. And Jesus could have said “bye chaps!” and popped off from anywhere at any point, but he took them to a mountain, he reminded them of what they needed to do and then he ascended into the clouds. Jesus knew they needed a little fuss, a reminder of who he was and who they were that would sustain them as they waited. It clearly worked – our gospel tells us they returned to the Temple overflowing with praise for God.
We have over the past five months journeyed with Jesus as he came to be with us, our Immanuel, at Christmas, revealed himself as God during Epiphany, walked the way of the Cross during Lent and Holy Week, rose again, defeating sin and death on Easter Sunday and shared his resurrection life and hope ever since. Like the disciples, we now need to learn to journey on, beyond Jesus’ earthly story to live its truths ourselves in the places God has put us. This is a goodbye which prepares us for what is to come.
What is to come is the gift of the Holy Spirit, which we will celebrate next Sunday. God with us – not as the person of Jesus, but the God we met in Jesus now lives in us. The incredible African saint, Augustine of Hippo, said “you ascended before our eyes, and we turned back grieving, only to find you in our hearts”.
I still don’t like goodbyes, but perhaps being sad to say goodbye to Jesus is no bad thing. Perhaps it just means that I love him. Perhaps it means that there is a piece of my heart yearning for that day when I will see him again in glory, bringing his Kingdom to its fulfilment. And perhaps that yearning will help me to work for that Kingdom here, to long to see Jesus in the way our community and society treats one another especially the last and the least.
The joy is that the Spirit of Jesus will never leave me and always be with me as I try to follow and serve Jesus wherever I am. This is true for you too. So let’s spend this week rejoicing in all Jesus has done for us and praying for a fresh outpouring of the Holy Spirit in our lives to enable us to live for Jesus.
The first time I read our Old Testament reading I confess I laughed. Moses’ exasperated call to God – what do you expect me to do with these people? – and the peoples’ outraged complaints at their leader – basically “another fine mess you’ve got us into!” – had an almost farcical tone. But the second time I read it, I felt fear. In our experience, where clean fresh drinking water is available from every tap, we rarely know what it is to be truly thirsty. But perhaps you can recall going on a long walk on a summer’s day and you forgot a water bottle, or maybe you didn’t carry one, and the heat and the exercise catch up with you and a nagging discomfort steadily becomes an all-consuming need. I have had days like that walking in the Scottish wilderness. You start to calculate as you never have before how far you might be from the nearest refreshment. Coming across a clear fresh spring of water feels like a glimpse of heaven itself!
True thirst is a deeply anxiety-provoking thing, especially when – like the people in our first reading – you have no idea when or how it might be satisfied. Especially when you have a thirsty family and thirsty livestock and you know they cannot survive much longer without water. The question of whether God is truly with them is no theological conundrum – it is a matter of life and death. Moses is exasperated that the people do not trust God, for indeed God does have it all under control. And perhaps we read this story through Moses’ eyes – but the reason we do is probably because we have not ourselves experienced the panic of real physical thirst in a context where fresh water is not readily available. Thirst is a powerful thing…
In our Gospel, we have two thirsty people. Jesus is physically thirsty and so asks help from a woman who approaches the well. Now I wonder if you have someone in your family who sits and watches films and likes to predicts what happens next. They can always predict when Bond is going to get the better of the villain. They can tell which unlikely couple will fall in love. They can spot the baddies before the story is half told. They can spot the patterns that stories fall into and can see what is going to happen next. The thing is that this story would have felt a bit like that to the first readers of John’s Gospel – certainly those from a Jewish background. Stories of a man and a woman meeting at a well were romances. Ever since Abraham’s servant met Rebekah at a well and asked him for a drink, this motif of a woman providing water for menfolk was the start of a marriage story. They knew what was coming…
Except – plot twist – the last thing this woman needed was another marriage. She had been married many times and was now living under the protection of someone who wasn’t her husband. Some have assumed she was a woman of ill repute, but there is no reason to think this. There are many reasons to think that this woman had been sinned against as much as sinned. However, what we do know is that a succession of marriages had not made her happy. What she thirsted for at this well was not another wedding day…
This is one of the longest conversations Jesus has in the gospels. And it is wide-ranging: from physical thirst, to Jacob, to the woman’s history, to the worshipping practices of Samaritans and Jews. They cover a lot of ground. But in it, perhaps we see a thirst being quenched – not a physical thirst, but a thirst for connection, for respect and engagement, for someone to see her and know her and yet not avoid her, to recognise what she has to offer – even if it is as simple as being able to offer a mouthful of water. And in the profoundly theological questions the woman asks, we see someone who is thirsting for truth. She finds all these things in Jesus.
I wonder what you are thirsting for today? What are the things you really really long for, with the urgency of a thirsty person in a wilderness? What do you try to distract yourself from with work, or food and drink, or spending or social media or telly? What is it that you need so desperately from God – how confident are you that God is truly with you? Ask for what you need, even if you aren’t entirely sure what it is!
Some time later, at around noon, in another lonely place, Jesus thirsted again. This time, he was not helped by a woman at a well but was offered only vinegar. On the cross Jesus experienced a spiritual and physical thirst beyond our comprehension, so that all our thirst might be slaked. Our thirst for forgiveness. Our thirst for connection, because no barriers now separate us from God’s love. Our thirst for truth, for we now have the Holy Spirit leading us into all truth. Our thirst for hope in a world of despair.
Jesus says that because what he came to do and because of the Holy Spirit who now lives within us, we will have springs of water rising up in us. This spring of the Spirit can refresh our thirsts, but is surely not just for ourselves. Rather as walking springs of water in our world, we are to refresh the thirsts of the world, by offering that forgiveness, connection, truth and hope.
May the Spirit flood us with the love of God, so we might be refreshed in all our thirsts and be able to share the love of God with others. Amen
The readings are Galatians 5:16-26 and Luke 4:16-21
Today, our community is celebrating Father’s Day. So if you are a father, step-father, grandfather, godfather, uncle or brother – thank you, and we are praying for you as you father others. However, today is not always an easy day for some. Some fathers aren’t all they could be. Some long to be fathers but aren’t. Some are grieving for fathers and some fathers are grieving a child. If today is hard, we are praying for you too.
In the Bible, it often speaks about God as a good Father. In Luke 11, Jesus says:
9 “And so I tell you, keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you. 10 For everyone who asks, receives. Everyone who seeks, finds. And to everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.
11 “You fathers—if your children ask for a fish, do you give them a snake instead? 12 Or if they ask for an egg, do you give them a scorpion? Of course not! 13 So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father…”
I will finish that verse in a moment.
A sad but very precious part of my role is to conduct funerals. Often I find myself sitting with a family as they tell me stories about a Dad or Grandad. And very few talk about material things their loved one has given them. Instead they tell me stories of holidays or driving lessons. They tell me about lessons learned and values they live by. The best present their loved one ever gave them was their time, their wisdom – themselves.
So how does that reading from Luke end? It ends with “How much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him.” The greatest gift God can give is Godself – God with us to teach us and guide us and help us learn God’s values and live God’s way. That is the gift God gives abundantly – the gift of the Holy Spirit.
Now the Holy Spirit can enable people to do remarkable and miraculous things – and we will be thinking about that more next week. But perhaps the most remarkable thing the Holy Spirit does is changes our hearts to make them more like Jesus. Paul is Galatians talks about the fruits of the Holy Spirit. The idea of fruit speaks to me of something which grows slowly and steadily. Fruit both carries the seeds of new life and nourishes others with its food. The Holy Spirit grows the fruit of God’s Kingdom in our lives enabling us to help others know Jesus and caring for God’s people and God’s world.
Now, just a quick health warning as we look at this reading from Galatians. For many years, this has been – in my opinion – mis-read to set up a false distinction between bodies and souls. Bodies are not bad things – in fact they are great. Jesus had a body. Bodies help us love others and care for the world. The flesh isn’t a bad thing.
I think that when Paul is talking about the flesh, he is talking about the selfishnesses or fears that only think about what benefits or brings pleasure to our own bodies. It doesn’t care about how our behaviour might affect other people. The fruit of the Spirit on the other hand is all about how we love others and treat them as precious children of God.
I think I have mentioned this before, but I will mention it again. I have a friend who is an Old Testament scholar, and once she was talking about the concept of flourishing. Flourishing is a big idea in society and in the church right now. How do people flourish. My friend said that in the Old Testament there is NO concept of individual flourishing – we can only flourish as community.
With this in mind, of course the fruit of the Holy Spirit in our lives is going to be fruit that enables us to live well as a community. And when communities live well, bearing the fruit of the Spirit, the world around them is transformed.
In our Gospel reading, Jesus talks about the difference the Spirit makes in the world – he enables us to proclaim and be good news for those who are poor, captive, blind and oppressed. She empowers us to live God’s Kingdom into being.
Our church has welcomed many new friends over the last few years. They rarely come here because of my stellar preaching or an energetic programme or evangelism. They come because they encounter in this place, in the people of our church community love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and – so long as there isn’t chocolate about – self-control! In short, in the way we live together as a church family, they see something of Jesus.
Now, it feels like I am tempting fate to say that – asking for a major congregational fall-out! Because, we are not Jesus – we are people who all too often get it wrong. We have bad days. We mess up. However, the fruit of God’s Spirit is not dependent on us, thankfully. God’s Spirit is a gift and if we seek it, if we ask for it, this gift will be given again and again and again.
In the Old Testament book of Lamentations – a book as joyous as its name suggests – amidst page upon page of disaster, there is a beautiful little refrain:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases God’s mercies never come to an end They are new every morning Great is God’s faithfulness
Every day, every morning, we can ask God again for the gift of God’s Spirit with us. And every day, God our Father, God the best Father, a Father beyond our imaginings, will delight to give us that gift of Godself.
And slowly but surely, day by day, God will grow in us the fruit of God’s Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. And by that fruit in our lives, God will help us help others and point them to Jesus.
Ask, seek, knock – and receive, receive with joy, the gift of the Holy Spirit, then go forth and bear her fruits in a world which so needs them!
This morning’s sermon is brought to you by a tweet, a poem and a mug. The tweet was a quote from a priest and theologian from America called Fleming Rutledge. She simply said “If it was not for the resurrection of Christ we would never have heard of him”. The Romans killed many people by crucifixion. There were many revolutionary leaders and teachers in occupied Palestine. But only one was raised by the power of God. Only one was God. The poem is by someone called Lyle C Rollings III. I am guessing he was American too. It is called The Greatest Man in History: Jesus had no servants, yet they called Him Master. Had no degree, yet they called Him Teacher. Had no medicines, yet they called Him Healer. He had no army, yet kings feared Him. He won no military battles, yet He conquered the world. He did not live in a castle, yet they called Him Lord, He ruled no nations, yet they called Him King, committed no crime, yet they crucified Him. He was buried in a tomb, yet He lives today. He was buried in a tomb yet lives today. Alleluia! That is the good news of Easter. This morning at the dawn service we proclaimed an ancient Christian hymn called the Exultet. In it we say: This is the day when Jesus Christ vanquished hell, broke the chains of death and rose triumphant from the grave. This is the day when all who believe in him are freed from sin, restored to grace and holiness and share in the victory of Christ. This is the day that you gave us back what we had lost, beyond our deepest dreams – you made even our sin a happy fault. Alleluia! Today is the day that the world turns upside down: death turns to life, darkness to light, enmity to love and belonging. Today is the day that we remember that no matter how broken and dark our world, there is hope and healing and life and love in the end. And so to the mug. It is not my mug but my friend’s. It simply says “It will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end…” Not everything will be healed in this world. But the Christ who rose from the tomb shows us that there will be another world, another life and another story, one day with Jesus. Because Alleluia Christ is risen! He is risen indeed. Alleluia!
Keep the sabbath holy! What does that mean? What does it mean for something to be holy? In Isaiah’s time, it meant that something was set apart for God, who was awesome and powerful and totally other to humanity. Human beings have responded to the holiness of the sabbath in interesting ways. Not too long ago, it meant sitting on uncomfortable pews in church three times a day, no games, no television, definitely no fun!
Yet, look at how the reading describes sabbath – a day of delight! Not a day of selfishness or self-indulgence, but a day of delight. If you read through the Old Testament holiness codes, God frequently starts a festival or ritual season by saying that the first day is to be a sabbath, a rest from work and productivity for everyone. It is a holy day, which in modern English has become a contraction – a holiday! A day set apart for God and therefore holy, a day when we remember the things of God rather than the worries and squabbles of humanity. A day of rest and gratitude and play… A day to step off the treadmill of work and productivity and not enough and enjoy the abundance of God.
The sabbath was truly a day of delight for the woman in our reading today – how she praised God! But of course, this upset the synagogue leader. Something to note perhaps, that just when we think we have God pinned down, understood and in a tidy box, God causes a bit of holy havoc and usually someone gets cross! But Jesus’ enemies have the good sense to be ashamed when he points out that they have missed the point!
And so we have another definition of holy – that holy is as God is, and if our sabbath is to be holy, things that God would do will happen on it. Like hope and healing and justice and transformation. But these will happen not because we strive, but because we let God be God in our lives.
And what might sabbath look like in our lives today. Well, the keep Sunday special ship has sailed, if ever it was a thing. Shift workers, emergency services, carers and healthcare staff have always gone to work. Now there are shops and sports centres and cinemas and all sorts. In our 24/7, multicultural world, we can be answering emails from our boss at midnight on our mobile phones. The world is always working – and in that world, sabbath is an act of resistance. Sabbath is rebellion against the world that tells us that nothing is ever enough – we don’t have enough, we are not enough. Sabbath is prophetic – it reminds us that we are human beings, not human doings. Our worth is not determined by how much we can make, but by the fact we are made in the image of God. Sabbath reminds us that we were made for delight and not for exhaustion.
So to be sabbath people, we need to do sabbath, and that means we need to commit to it – as a duty and a joy. Too often we think that times of rest and recreation are only allowed as some sort of reward when we get to the end of our to-do list. SABBATH IS NOT A REWARD. It is a command, a spiritual discipline – and a gift from our loving heavenly Father. Put times of sabbath in your diary first. Prioritise rest and play. Only by allowing God to strengthen and refresh us, can we be people who bring that refreshment to others.
Because, sabbath is not just about our own needs but the world around us. Sabbath inspires us to bring freedom and healing and rest to other who need it. In our world, it might be speaking out for the exploited and underpaid. It might be ensuring that people have good working terms and conditions that mean they too have the chance to rest and spend time with loved ones. It might be using our purchasing power to support businesses who treat their suppliers and employees well. Honestly, does anyone go to Timpsons? Seriously, they are an amazing company, who really support their workers. Support Timpsons! There are good news stories out there, so share them and make sure those who do good things are blessed.
And while I joked about sitting on hard pews three times a day at the start of this sermon, worship is a key part of sabbath. Delighting in God, reminding ourselves of God’s story, of God’s values, of God’s love in a world which doesn’t yet know them is vital. Come to worship to be reminded of the holiness of God, the kindness of God. Spend a little time loitering in God’s company, doing nothing much by the world’s standards but fulfilling your deepest purpose. The Westminster Confession of faith begins “Man’s chief end is to glorify God and enjoy him forever”. I am sure women are allowed to join in too.
So keep the sabbath as an act of glory, an act of rebellion and an act of prophetic hope for the world. Let our sabbaths be days of delight! Amen
In my journey of faith, I have travelled with many different church denominations. I was brought up in the Church of Scotland, which is most like the URC down here, my best friend as a teenager was Assemblies of God, at university I worshipped with the Baptists and married into a Roman Catholic family. Coming to England, we found ourselves at the Church of England and then at theological college, I studied alongside Methodists and Pentecostal Christians and did a placement with the Quakers. I think I just need a stint with the Orthodox and the Salvation Army and I will have completed my denominational Bingo card!
At some of the denominations I have travelled with, people would often talk about being born again – which is the other way the phrase we read in our Gospel as born from above can be translated. Some of the other denominations I travelled with were a bit sniffy about the phrase “born-again”, but I have never had a problem with it. It is a profoundly biblical concept. Christians are born again by water and the Spirit – we have new life in Christ, and whether that begins in infancy, as a child, as a young adult or in riper years is irrelevant. I think the disagreement rests in how people think being born again happens.
To some being born again is quite simple – you accept Jesus as your Lord and Saviour, pray a prayer, get baptized as an adult or older child and there you go: new you, fresh start, new life, born again.
But being born is a little bit more complicated than that. Nowadays, most birth takes place in a maternity unit, with trained professionals and useful medical kits on standby if needed. Unless you happen to be a healthcare worker, you are unlikely to be around when someone is giving birth unless it is your own birth, or you or someone very close to you has happened to have given birth. Not so in Jesus’ day. Back then, births happened in the community and were much more communal affairs. While as a young man, Jesus would have been unlikely to be involved closely in the process, he would have been unable to avoid birth – it would have been happening all around him. He would be familiar with birth as a messy, sometimes noisy, time-consuming, painful and ultimately joyful process. What if when he speaks of being born from above, born of the Spirit, born again, he had something like that in mind?
If he did, then being born again, being birthed into the person God intends us to be might be more of a process than an event. But of course, every birth is individual – some are quick, some take days, some are relatively straightforward, some are fraught with risk and complexity. Why should our spiritual birthing be any different? There are indeed some Christians who accept Jesus, get baptised and are instantly different, better, happier people – hallelujah! What I suppose I am saying to you today is that if your spiritual journey doesn’t fit that pattern, if it seems protracted and messy, if – a bit like the waves of contractions in labour – God seems to have to teach you the same lessons over and over again, if it all seems a bit scary or painful in places, don’t despair. You are not failing in your faith – you are just having a different spiritual birth. And as with any birth, there is hope and new life ahead.
Nicodemus was one of the more protracted spiritual birth people. We see him here at the beginning of John’s Gospel, visiting by night so he won’t be seen, finding something attractive in Jesus, but scared for the loss of reputation of worse that might come from being associated with him. Jesus asks him some difficult questions, and Nicodemus doesn’t seem to know what to do with them! But he keeps going in his own way, and at the end, when Jesus has died on the cross, when his disciples have fled, Nicodemus is one of the ones who goes to Pilate and asks for Jesus’ body and lays it in a tomb. What courage. What faith.
Being birthed into the person God intends us to be is a scary process. Probably if we knew where it would lead us at the beginning, we would run a mile. If Nicodemus has known this journey would result in him aligning himself with a recently executed criminal, I am not sure he would have started. The process of leaving the snug safety of a womb to enter the dangers and opportunities of the wider world is a huge thing – no wonder newborns cry out in shock. Likewise, the nudging of God which sends us out of our comfort zones and into new adventures can be uncomfortable.
Our first reading is a good example of this. Abram is being sent on a journey. We know the whole story. We know the joys and challenges, heartache and triumphs which lie ahead for him and his wife, Sarah. We know that the man’s friendship with God is at the start of a salvation story which one day leads to Jesus. But at that point, Abram only knows he must go. God doesn’t tell him what will happen if he does go – God only makes this promise: if Abram goes, God will bless him and make him and his family a blessing.
That same invitation and promise is for you and me. Will we continue and cooperate ths process of letting the Holy Spirit birth us into the people God longs for us to be – even if it is messy, painful, unknown. Will we do this, trusting that if we do, God will bless us and make us a blessing, that there is new life and hope ahead.
Lent is a particular time of learning and growing in faith. It is a time when we take stock, look at where we are and where we hope to be. Doing that honestly is not always a fun experience. The anticipation of Advent, the joys of Christmas or Easter, the thankfulness of Harvest – all can be much easier than the self-examination and penitence of Lent! But maybe this Lent invite God to show you where the Spirit wants to birth something new in you this year, be open to the mess and muddle this process might take. But always know that God will use this to bless you and others and bring new life. Amen
Readings are Genesis 2:15-17;3:1-7 and Matthew 4:1-11
The archdeacon who taught me to preach said that every preacher was given a song to sing – the version of the Gospel message which was theirs especially to communicate. “When you are asked to preach and not told what you are to preach on,” he said, “give that sermon!” In fact after 15 years or so of preaching, I am finding – like many preachers – that I only really have one sermon at all. I just tell it in different ways each week.
My sermon is simply God loves you. God loves you more than you can possibly imagine. Always has and always will, and because God loves you there is always hope – no matter what.
Now some people might look down upon such a simple message – surely there should be a bit more judgement, even occasionally a bit of wrath. The Gospel isn’t all feel-good and wooly, Kate, they would say. But I persist. And one of the reasons I persist is this first Bible story this week.
Because in this first temptation, I don’t think that the temptation is the apple. It isn’t even the knowledge, or the possibility of becoming like God. The first temptation is to distrust God’s love – to distrust that God loved them and wanted what was best for them led to everything that followed. If the man and woman had held fast to the love of the God who had made them and given them everything they had, the rest would have been impossible.
So perhaps a question to begin this Lent is how sure am I that God loves me? How much do I trust God’s love for me? Maybe a Lenten discipline for this year could be to pause once a day and simply remind yourself that you are beloved.
In our second reading, Jesus enters the wilderness. But before he goes, he has the most amazing affirmation of God’s love. At his baptism in the Jordan, he hears the voice from heaven – this is my beloved son with whom I am well pleased. Secure in that knowledge, he is able to resist the temptations that come his way: temptations to doubt his calling, temptations to use power and seek security, temptations to misuse scripture, temptations to fatal compromise.
Instead, Jesus holds fast to the path he is called to walk – the path of service not power, the path of vulnerability not security, the path that fulfils scripture and the path that leads not just to the Cross, but to Easter which follows. The path that shows God’s never-ending, undefeatable love for us, undoing all the harm of that first temptation, bringing us back into God’s Kingdom of life.
So perhaps another question for this Lent is: trusting in God’s love for me, how am I called to live? How can I be generous in a world that encourages selfishness? How can I be hopeful in a world of despair? How can I be gentle in a world that values might? Where might I trust in God’s love and risk living differently?
For some reason, my sermon subject came up at a family meal yesterday. My daughter suggested that I talk about the good side of temptation. Well that was a take I hadn’t heard before, so I asked her to say more. She said, “every time you resist temptation, you have a chance to show your faith in God!” I think my daughter has a point. I am not quite ready to suggest temptation can be a good thing – I don’t think Jesus would have taught us to pray “lead us not into temptation” otherwise!
However, temptation is a normal part of life. We shouldn’t feel guilty about it, but rather secure in God’s love for us resist temptations hopefully, lovingly and positively. The process of resisting that temptation can tell us more about who we are and who God is calling us to be. As our collect today says, Jesus grew closer to God in the wilderness.
What do I mean? Well, to use an entirely hypothetical scenario, let’s say there was a vicar who had a moderate crush on the actor David Tennant, and let’s say this vicar found herself in vicinity of David Tennant and her attraction was reciprocated – as I said, this is a very hypothetical situation. In fact David Tennant asked her out for a date. But our vicar is married! A real temptation. In turning down the date, the vicar isn’t just saying no to David Tennant, difficult as that might be. She is saying yes to her husband all over again, yes to her marriage promises, yes to the person she wants to be and yes to the God whose ways of love are more demanding and precious than the ways of selfishness. In that sense, temptation can be a good thing as Anna suggests, if we can resist it out of love for God and those people God places around us.
In the end, it is all about love. So this Lent, know that God loves you, live well in that love and if you do encounter temptation hold fast to God’s love and say yes to God’s loving ways. And if we struggle, know there is help. As the hymn says…
Have we trials and temptations? Is there trouble anywhere? We should never be discouraged; take it to the Lord in prayer. Can we find a friend so faithful who will all our sorrows share? Jesus knows our every weakness; take it to the Lord in prayer
When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I did not come proclaiming the mystery of God to you in lofty words or wisdom. 2 For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. 3 And I came to you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling. 4 My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power, 5 so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.
6 Yet among the mature we do speak wisdom, though it is not a wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are doomed to perish. 7 But we speak God’s wisdom, secret and hidden, which God decreed before the ages for our glory. 8 None of the rulers of this age understood this; for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. 9 But, as it is written,
‘What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him’—
10 these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit; for the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God. 11 For what human being knows what is truly human except the human spirit that is within? So also no one comprehends what is truly God’s except the Spirit of God. 12 Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit that is from God, so that we may understand the gifts bestowed on us by God.
Matt 5:13-20
13 ‘You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.
14 ‘You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.
17 ‘Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfil. 18 For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter,not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. 19 Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20 For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
So our Epiphany season has ended. We put away the crib. Our gaze moves from the God who came to live among us as Jesus to what Jesus did for us. As the Candlemas prayers – which are traditionally used around this time – say: we turn from the Crib to the Cross. In a few weeks’ time, we enter the season of Lent – a time of preparation for Holy Week and Easter. But why do we keep Lent? How do we keep Lent? And what might Lent look like at St Paul’s? In these few in between Sundays, we are going to spend some time thinking about Lent and why it is an important part of the church year.
But what is Lent? Lent is a season in the church that lasts from Ash Wednesday until Easter Eve. It represents the 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness being tempted. However, those amongst us with an eye for detail and a head for numbers might work out that there are more than 40 days between Ash Wednesday and Easter Eve. You are right – there are 46. But the Sundays don’t count – I’ll explain that more in a minute.
Lent is a time of preparation. While in the wider world, Christmas is the big celebration of the year, for Christians, Easter is the pinnacle of our year, and so we take our preparations for it seriously. However, instead of preparing our houses and our fridges as we do before Christmas, before Easter we prepare our hearts.
Traditionally, preparations for Lent involved three activities – or disciplines as they are also known. They were prayer, fasting and giving to the poor. So during Lent, Christians might make a special effort to spend more time with God in prayer. It can be a simple thing like having a prayer on your bedside table and praying it every day before you get up or before you go to sleep. You might decide to try a new way of praying, or join with a friend to pray. At St Paul’s, we offer Lent groups which are a chance to meet each week with other to read the Bible, pray and think about how we live out our Christian lives.
Fasting is traditionally when people entirely or partially give up food for a period of time to focus on prayer. In times gone by, people tended to give up sweet foods, meat and dairy throughout Lent. In some ways this made a virtue of a necessity – by this stage of winter, there wasn’t much nice food left in your average peasant’s store cupboard, and so Lent was a good way to eke out their supplies until Easter. But Sunday was never a fast day – Sundays as far as the church is concerned are all mini-Easters, so we do not fast on a day which is always a feast. That is why Lent is 40 days and not 46 – see?
Nowadays, even though food supplies are less precarious, Christians still fast during Lent. They might remove a particular food group from their diet, or perhaps miss lunch once a week. Remember this will not be healthy for everyone, so consider your health before changing your diet too much! Some fast from other things. Some people give up social media. Others might watch less TV. Or, in the same spirit, some people might take up a positive habit – fasting from busyness by making time to relax each day, or fasting from disconnection by contacting friends and letting them know they are thought of, fasting from the sofa by getting outdoors and walking every day. The point is to do something different throughout Lent that takes a little effort, that reminds us that we are in a season of preparations and which points us towards God.
Lastly, giving to the poor or alms-giving remains an important part of Lent. No man is an island as the great poet John Donne said. We cannot prepare our hearts and be insensitive to the needs of others – what sort of religion is that? Certainly not the sort Jesus encouraged. So our Lent preparations need to involve a growing love for others, however we might enact that. Whether it is giving time, talents or money, how might we think of other during the Lenten season? Some churches have Lent collections. Others might have Lent lunches where there is simple fare and people give the money they might have spent on a lunch out to charity instead. Some people might cut out something from their diet and use the money they save to buy for foodbank instead. It depends very much on your circumstances I know, but God knows too – so help if you can, how you can.
But why is Lent so important? Well, this brings me belatedly to the readings for the day. They are very different readings, but have – I think – a theme in common. As Christians we are to be distinctive, we are to be different to the world around us. Now I am not suggesting we become irritatingly smug goody-two-shoes – Jesus wasn’t a huge fan of that sort of religion either! But like salt gives food its flavour, like a light brings comfort and guidance, like the wisdom that is not born of book-learning, but of a life following Jesus, is inspiring and hopeful and kind – we are to be different in those ways. Ways that make people look at us and go you know there might be something about that Jesus bloke after all…
But it is hard to be different. Life happens to us all and knocks us out of shape. So Lent is a time of self-examination. It is a time when we look at our lives and think, what might I need to change to help me be a little more like Jesus? What might I need to do to make my life a little more Jesus-shaped? What practices of prayer, fasting and giving might help me become little by little the person Jesus calls me to be?
Because then, when we get to Easter morning, when Jesus once again gives us that gift of new life, new hope and never-ending love, we can offer back to Jesus ourselves. Not perfect, no – never that this side of heaven. But the best we can manage. A heart prepared by time spent with God, by practices that point us towards God and after loving others as God loves us. That is why we keep Lent. So before Lent begins on Ash Wednesday, give some thought to how you might use Lent this year to prepare your heart. Amen.
23 Am I a God who is only close at hand?” says the Lord. “No, I am far away at the same time. 24 Can anyone hide from me in a secret place? Am I not everywhere in all the heavens and earth?” says the Lord.
25 “I have heard these prophets say, ‘Listen to the dream I had from God last night.’ And then they proceed to tell lies in my name. 26 How long will this go on? If they are prophets, they are prophets of deceit, inventing everything they say. 27 By telling these false dreams, they are trying to get my people to forget me, just as their ancestors did by worshiping the idols of Baal.28 “Let these false prophets tell their dreams, but let my true messengers faithfully proclaim my every word. There is a difference between straw and grain! 29 Does not my word burn like fire?” says the Lord. “Is it not like a mighty hammer that smashes a rock to pieces?
Luke 12:49-56 (NLT)
49 “I have come to set the world on fire, and I wish it were already burning! 50 I have a terrible baptism of suffering ahead of me, and I am under a heavy burden until it is accomplished. 51 Do you think I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I have come to divide people against each other! 52 From now on families will be split apart, three in favour of me, and two against—or two in favour and three against.
53 ‘Father will be divided against son and son against father; mother against daughter and daughter against mother; and mother-in-law against daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law.’ ”
54 Then Jesus turned to the crowd and said, “When you see clouds beginning to form in the west, you say, ‘Here comes a shower.’ And you are right. 55 When the south wind blows, you say, ‘Today will be a scorcher.’ And it is. 56 You fools! You know how to interpret the weather signs of the earth and sky, but you don’t know how to interpret the present times.
Sermon
Today will be a scorcher! A rather apt reading for a Sunday where temperatures are predicted to reach 31 degrees centigrade. But it isn’t just the weather that is uncomfortable. Today’s readings are challenging in the extreme. Why on earth is Jesus – the one whose birth was announced to the world by angels saying peace be with you; the one whose first words to his beleagured disciples that Easter Sunday evening were peace be with you – saying that he has come to bring division and strife?
To enter into the fullness of faith, we have to learn to live with paradox. A paradox is when two seemingly contradictory things co-exist in the same situation. We have one at the start of our first reading:
23 Am I a God who is only close at hand?” says the Lord. “No, I am far away at the same time.
God is full of paradoxes: our dearest friend and an unknowable deity; absolutely almighty, yet gentle and vulnerable; King of the Universe, but willing to serve creation; a God of justice while full of scandalous mercy and grace. It can all be a bit much to get our heads around, and that is a good thing – because God is GOD! We don’t want a God we can understand or put in a box. What sort of God is that? What we have instead is an awesome God who is constantly inviting us deeper and deeper into a life of faith and mystery and wonder. What a gift.
And so it is perhaps not surprising that Jesus, who was God made flesh, also said some puzzling and mind-stretching things. Come to me all you who are weary and heavy burdened and I will give you rest, he says, then take up your cross and follow me! Those who are not for me are against me, he says one time and then, those who are not against me are for me, he says another. Peace I give to you, he says, then I have come to divide people! It can be confusing at times, and again, if you expect following Jesus to be straightforward or easy, you are in for a shock.
The author CS Lewis once said to a reporter: “I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.” And yet, Lewis became a Christian. Not because it made him comfortable, not because it was easy, but because somewhere in the soup of all the things he didn’t understand was a story that was true, a power that was good and a love that was beyond all telling.
So back to today’s puzzling, unsettling reading. Why might Jesus be talking about bringing division. One of the resources I read preparing for this sermon suggested that we need to discern when Jesus is being prescriptive and when he is being descriptive. What on earth does that mean? Well, when Jesus is talking prescriptively, he is talking about what God or the Kingdom of God is like. “Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called children of God”. This is a truth of the Kingdom – something that is true because God makes it so, something that will always be so. On the other hand, when Jesus talks descriptively, he is saying “because the world is this way, this is going to happen…”. He is describing not how God wants things to be like, but the natural consequences of the values of God’s Kingdom bumping up against our world’s broken sinfulness. He is warning us of what being a disciple might mean. So the reality is that, until our Lord Jesus returns again, whenever we stand up for the values of the Kingdom, whenever we take seriously our call to follow Jesus, we will find ourselves in conflict with others, even those closest to us.
Some of these conflicts might be quite minor – maybe you want to buy Fairtrade coffee, but a family member prefers their Nescafe? Or perhaps they are a bit more risky, perhaps calling out a friend for a racist, sexist or homophobic remark? Perhaps loved ones resent the time we give to worship and service, or it might be our commitment to climate justice or welcoming refugees which means those we love misunderstand or mock us. And so on – we can all perhaps imagine situations where our commitment to the truth, love and justice of God have made us think or act differently to others we love. If we are truly following Jesus, it will happen from time to time. It should happen. And when it does happen, have courage, because Jesus knew it would happen. Sometimes following Jesus is hard not because we are doing it wrong, but because we are doing it right – and Jesus saw then and sees now. Your faithfulness will not be for nothing.
I have come to set the world on fire and I wish it were already burning! Difficult words for us to hear in a world that is literally on fire due to the climate crisis. Homes, livelihoods, health all put at risk because of global warming brought about by our greed and exploitation of creation. Lord have mercy. But Jesus is talking of a different sort of fire:
Bishop Barron writes: Jesus said, “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!” What is that fire? His forerunner, John, gave us a clue: “I baptise you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptise you with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Luke 3: 16).
Jesus came in order to torch the world with the heat and light of the divine Spirit, which is none other than the love shared by the Father and the Son, the very inner life of God. Jesus is a prophet because he teaches; he is a king because he leads and shepherds; but he is a priest because he is the spreader of the sacred fire. (From The Word on Fire Bible, by Bishop Barron, Luke 12: 49.)
As we watch our world burn, we long for that different fire – the fire of God’s love, the sacred fire which is the gift of the Spirit through Jesus. One fire is born out of selfishness and greed and brings only heartache. The other is born of self-giving love and brings only hope. But the two can be linked. What does the fire of God’s love look like in a world experiencing a climate crisis? What does the fire of God’s love look like in a world where the poorest and most vulnerable are most affected by global warming? It must and can only look like the persistent and determined and generous action to halt climate change.
Over the coming months, I am hoping that our church will begin to work towards being an Eco Church. This scheme, run by the Christian environmental group A Rocha, helps churches to look at all aspects of its life and make changes – some big, but many small – to become a more environmentally conscious and climate just church. It might not be easy and we may not always agree on how best to move forward. As we become more environmentally aware as individuals, and live out what we learn as disciples of Christ, it might bring us into conflict with people around us. But it is our calling not to see our world on fire because of climate change, but only to be alight with the sacred fire of God.
Sermons at St Paul's 