Jesus, what's the point

A talk I gave last week about why I am a Christian!

Men’s Group Jan 2008

Jesus – What’s the point?

Over my time as part of this group I have experienced different types of talks, and in your time coming to this group and attending Church generally I am sure you have heard most of the types.
For example -
There is the sonorous, theological type of talk filled with gravitas and tackled slowly and at great length.
There is the excitable, babbling type of talk with very few pauses for breath - lots of enthusiasm and very little substance.
There is the worthy type which endeavours to change us all for the better, said in great earnest with lots of meaningful looks.
There is the intellectual type of talk where the speaker spouts Greek, Hebrew, Latin, odd sounding German words and generally makes very little sense.
There is the classic ‘fire and brimstone’ talk-come-sermon designed to scare the hearers witless and spoken with great and powerful voice and much feeling.

All these and more you have probably heard from a variety of speakers over the years you have been coming and you might be wondering what type of address you will be listening to for the next few minutes or so…

Well, I was given the title for this evening of ‘Jesus, what’s the point?’ which echoes one of the themes from the Alpha course. I have to say my initial reaction was that the title sounds more like the kind of prayer that a Vicar lets out at the end of another day slaving over a hot Bible. Jesus – what is the point? But I could easily go into a long diatribe about how I was conned with regards to this being a one day a week job! So I’ll stop there.

I could, of course, give you a long – probably rambling – theological talk about who Jesus was, about his human and divine nature, about his radical teaching, about the focus of his message and about the meaning of his death and resurrection. In fact I do want to touch on some of these things – but I don’t want to try and muddy things up with too much theology or get bound up in technical phrases like homoousious or the hypostatic union of divine and human nature which is the core concept of Incarnational theology. I can discuss these things, but to be honest I have come out of some of those kind of talks saying to myself that it was all very interesting but what has it got to do with me? So if you want that kind of discussion see me afterwards and we can start a ‘waffling about theology’ kind of group sometime!

In the end, after careful deliberation, I want to ask that question which I asked after so many theology lectures, but to give it a personal slant – so my topic for tonight will be ‘Jesus – what’s he got to do with me?’
I can only start, to be honest, by telling you a bit about myself. Some of you will know this, so do feel free to nod off and I will only throw something if you start snoring!

I’ll start with the doozy – I am one of seventeen children. Actually, I am one of nineteen spread over two marriages – though both my mum and stepfather lost a son before I was born, so seventeen of us survived.

My biological father I never met, he died before I was born – he was a US airman who was killed in Vietnam. My mother met and married an Irish Navvy called Jack, the man who I call ‘Dad’, whilst I was very young and took on a ready made family. With this accident of romance, my mother is actually younger than some of my step brothers and sisters. But that’s another story altogether.

I was born and brought up in Devon, and for much of my young life lived in a four bedroom council house. Some of my older brothers and sisters had left home by the time we moved in there, so there were never more than 10 children (including teenagers) and mum and dad in this 4 bedroomed house! Before I seem to get all ‘Angela’s Ashes’ on you, though, my father was great believer in supporting his family and we were never hungry or lacking in anything we needed, unlike some of the Irish hard luck stories we read about in the novels!

With this kind of background, you might wonder how I managed to end up in the Church, let alone as an Anglican Priest! Well, in order that my parents could get a bit of peace at the weekend we were all packed off to the local Sunday School for a couple of hours every week. It helped that they sent a minibus around for us! Once my older siblings got the idea that it was just about keeping out of mum and dad’s hair, they skived off and just made themselves scarce. But I stuck with it. And I stayed at that Church from the age of eight until I was about 16 – when I moved to another Church in the town because it had a band who led worship and I was seriously into music!

But this brings me to my first thought about what Jesus has to do with me. I stayed with the Church not because of any great religious experience, or because I had to, or because of my parent’s influence – my father was a very lapsed Roman Catholic and my mother has in the past few years regained the faith of her Anglican childhood. I stayed with the Congregational Church in Honiton because I could see that these people had something which made them different. They called it a relationship with Jesus Christ – and though at first I didn’t understand what that meant I saw that it influenced everything they did. These people were generous with their time – taking on waifs and strays like me and offering friendship, support and care, taking an interest in me and encouraging me to explore faith for myself. Not Bible bashing, just getting on with their lives, but seeming to look at life from a different perspective from what I knew or had experienced. Something had changed their viewpoint – they weren’t stuck up or sanctimonious, but they were thoughtful, they showed respect for each other and even for those who were outside their group. They were different.

And that’s the first thing I want to share with you. Jesus isn’t a storybook figure, or someone distant who looks down on us either benignly or tut tutting over our various misdemeanours, Jesus actually, for those of us who are Christians, has a relationship with us, and that relationship changes us. I’ve got various friends (some of you in this room I consider myself fortunate to call my friends) and every one of you has had some effect on me – my relationship with you has changed me. That’s how our Christian faith should be, that’s why I don’t want to deal in abstractions or philosophy now, it’s not about whether we have our intellectual understanding of who Jesus was and is sorted out, it’s about how we relate to him.

And this relationship I remember starting when I was 11 years old, 27 years ago now. I prayed a prayer whilst I was on a camp in Polzeath in Cornwall, with one of these Christian folks whose genuine goodness had affected me, and – as we say in the trade – gave my heart to Christ. And I can honestly say I’ve never been the same since. I know I am not the person I would have been if I had not been a Christian.

So when we talk about the point of Jesus, or what Jesus has to do with us, it isn’t a static, one time thing – it’s a relationship with someone who is alive and dynamic and who can be, if we wish, a part of our lives here and now.

Now, though I believe that Christian faith changes people – and should make a difference to our lives, I don’t believe it makes us, or should make us, into holier than thou busybodies who like nothing better than putting a damper on things. There are certain things which I will not join in, not because I am a misery or hyper-holy (most of you know this, having spent more than a few evenings with me!) but because I don’t think these things are helpful. I’m not into porn, I think it objectifies women in a way that Jesus made sure he didn’t. I don’t use Jesus’ name as a swear word because I respect him too much for that – though my language may be a bit choice at times (I blame my irish upbringing). I don’t lie. I don’t fiddle my expenses, not even a bit! (the treasurer will tell you I don’t actually tend to claim them very much either, but that’s disorganisation rather than out of principal!). I am absolutely faithful to my wife! I respect people no matter what their size, shape, colour, class, language – because that’s the example I get from Jesus’ life.

For those who knew Jesus when he lived on earth, those who we hear about in the Gospels, Jesus changed their lives – more often than not by the way he addressed people, the respect he showed for those who were outcasts – tax collectors, prostitutes, lepers, the mentally ill, the depressed, the lonely. He took time to be with them, we read in the Gospels how Jesus touched the untouchable, and went to the houses of those who were considered beyond the pale. That’s the kind of Jesus who has affected me. That’s who I read about in my Bible in my childhood, and who I read about now.

And I read in the Bible about a Jesus who was passionate, who got angry, who wept, who knew how to take the Mickey, who wasn’t afraid to speak out against things he knew were wrong, who was faithful but didn’t go along with the religious authorities, who was just like us – but at the same time challenged our attitudes and activities by being one hundred percent committed to God and doing God’s will exactly. That’s how his friends talked about him, that’s what they shared with people they met. Those who spent three years (or so) with Jesus saw him in all circumstances, yet they don’t talk about him ever losing that absolute focus on God’s way of doing things. Their encounter with Jesus so changed them that they went on to die rather than renounce their faith in him – or their belief that he was God made man.

And this God made man business is really what it’s about. If Jesus was just a good teacher, then he was also a looney – because he talked about himself in terms of his relationship with God in a way that suggested not only that he knew who God was, but was God. On the other hand, if Jesus was God on an awayday just looking human but really having that kind of glow in the dark, get out of jail superpower of being God then the fact that he died is meaningless, and we have a God who actually would have no idea what it means to be human. At least on an experiential level– only in abstract terms.

The early Church struggled, and we still struggle, with how to talk about Jesus, God Incarnate. My very simple attempt at a description would be this – if we could get God and squash him into a completely human being – we’d have Jesus. Completely human in that he feels, acts, thinks and suffers just as we do. Completely divine in that all that he experiences God experiences too, and that he lives completely within God’s will.

And all of that is my inspiration, that’s my example. As I grew up (I use that phrase in it’s ‘getting older’ sense!) I found out more about this Jesus person, I worked in schools telling people about faith, I did a couple of Degrees in Religion, I got trained, I learned to ride a motorbike, I played guitar, I got married and had children. And through all of this the only way I can use to describe my faith is that it is a relationship with Jesus Christ.

That’s the reason I do what I do. The reason I believe what I believe. I wasn’t planning to say this when I started thinking about this evening, but I don’t think people hear enough from Vicar’s about why they believe. They here plenty about what we know, even a bit of theology (every now and then) but I’m not sure we often talk about Jesus as someone we get to know, or of the challenge of Jesus’ example to us as individuals. I end with a quote from C S Lewis’ book ‘Mere Christianity’

A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic – on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg – or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God; or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.

Epiphany

Epiphany (2008)

Isaiah 60.1-6
Ephesians 3.1-12
Matthew 2.1-12

Come to the king, whoever you are…

I don’t know if you remember the Christmas publicity campaign from a few years ago, one which caused some controversy at the time, but being broad minded myself I rather liked it. It had a cartoon picture of a shocked face with a caption which went something like this:
You’re in a stable, you’ve just given birth and now three kings have turned up with presents for the baby – talk about a bad hair day....

Of course, it’s trying to get us to think about the familiar story of the arrival of the wise men in a different way, which most of us who are responsible for preaching and teaching during our major Christian festivals are always trying to do! I think that, and the fact that ‘bad hair day’ is one of my favourite modern phrases, means that this ad really appealed to me, despite the fact that various green ink users in Tonbridge Wells got very excited about the whole campaign.

But as I have said often over this Christmas period, it is easy to forget the wonder of this story we know so well – familiarity seems to breed if not contempt at least a sort of numbness with regards to this amazing story. And the fact that we have a mish mash approach to the story with various elements from different Gospels mixed up together and the timescale of the arrival of the wise men’s arrival being less than clear means that we probably don’t enquire too deeply about this amazing event

It doesn’t help that we have layered meanings upon meanings on the text itself. First of all, despite the fact that I asked Ian to include ‘we three kings’ as part of our worship today there is no evidence that these were actually kings. Nor, unlike the suggestion in the carol, is there necessarily any deeper meaning to the gifts given... In fact I found this in the Jamieson, Fausset and Brown Commentary on the whole Bible of , 1871 this excellent passage:
That the gold was presented to the infant King in token of His royalty; the frankincense in token of His divinity, and the myrrh, of His sufferings; or that they were designed to express His divine and human natures; or that the prophetical, priestly, and kingly offices of Christ are to be seen in these gifts; or that they were the offerings of three individuals respectively, each of them kings, the very names of whom tradition has handed down—all these are, at the best, precarious suppositions. But that the feelings of these devout givers are to be seen in the richness of their gifts, and that the gold, at least, would be highly serviceable to the parents of the blessed Babe in their unexpected journey to Egypt and stay there—that much at least admits of no dispute.
To be honest, its just a good sing!

What is important is what we do know about the wise men, and that should be enough to fill us with a sense of wonder and surprise and indeed a sense of being challenged in our own attitude.

We begin by asking why this story is included here in Matthew’s Gospel – it isn’t found elsewhere in the New Testament, or referred to by any other source. For Matthew, the passionate Evangelist to the Jewish People, the one who believed in the kingship of Jesus, the King of the Jews, what is he saying to the Jewish people?

Well, lets start with what we know - we do know that the wise men, or Magi, were not Jewish – they came from the east, they were outsiders. They may have been astrologers, they certainly believed that the stars were worth studying and that signs of import could be found. In many ways they are beyond the pale, outside of the Jewish faith – it isn’t them who quote from the book of the prophet Micah, it is Herod’s advisers. By the time they arrive in Jerusalem they are lost and not quite sure where to go next….
Matthew, who is very Judeo-centred in his Gospel writing, seems to be both stepping outside of his usual boundaries of trying to get the message of who Jesus was to the Jewish people and yet at the same time is sending a message to his Jewish readers – that those outside of God’s chosen people were able to see that Jesus was king, that Jesus was the one prophesied as Messiah, the chosen one. These foreigners could see it, surely those of the Jewish faith who read the Gospel could see it to. It’s a challenge thrown down to the reader. This should make the faithful Jew think about whether they accept Jesus as king. If even those outside the faith can see, surely it would be obvious to those within.

So we find our first challenge. Have we seen the light of Christ? If so, how have we responded to it? Do we accept Christ as our King? And if so, how does this have an impact on our lives. I was listening to a sermon recently on the internet which I was guided to by Paul and Kath and was struck by one of the question asked at the start – what would the Church look like if we really did act as though Jesus were our king? If we lived by kingdom values in everything we did?

It’s a good thing to ask at the beginning of this new year? In what way can I as an individual live up to the values of the kingdom of God? What changes would I have to make to the way I live my life if I really acknowledge that Jesus Christ is the king of everything? Even more so – what changes should our Church be making if we truly want to make this an outpost of God’s Kingdom?

I saw the kingdom made real in this past few weeks when I saw the unconditional love and support that Bourn Church gave to one of our number struggling with loss, and I was profoundly moved by this example of Church in action. It’s not the first time I have seen it, and I suspect I won’t be the last! The way our Christian communities rally around those in need is a constant inspiration to me and I consider it a huge privilege to be a minister in this place. It’s why even after having fulfilled my seven year license I have no desire to move on – I have seen these congregations grow in love and service and in a desire to live as those who bring the love and light of Christ in this place. But we cannot rest on our laurels, there is still more to be done, and we need to ask again and again, how is Jesus made King in our Church? What can we offer? What should we be doing?

The second challenge from this reading springs from this first Challenge of making Christ our king in everything and from our reading for today. It comes from the wise men – the outsiders. Matthew, for all his Jewish identity and agenda, makes it clear that these outsiders have something to say, and that they respond to Christ in the most appropriate way. If there is one thing our Churches need to continue to do in order to grow in Kingdom values, it is to welcome the outsider and reach out to those beyond these walls.

It’s not a new message and I am moved to preach on it regularly. We exist as the Church to worship God and to proclaim Christ to the world. This means welcoming those who see things differently, allowing them to bring who they are and and what they have to offer, letting them ask questions, encouraging them to come in and to be a part of our Church family, showing the love of Christ to all, no matter how they look, or sound, or what they think. We are called to be a place of openness to outsiders, and to listen to them, and to allow them to challenge us.

As the outsiders came to worship Christ and proclaim him king, may we too be those who put Christ as the focus of our Church and our lives, and may we be open to God speaking in unexpected ways through unexpected people. May we be open to the values of the kingdom and live them in all we do and think and say. May 2008 be our year of kingdom values, or I should say, the start of considering again the values of the Kingdom of God.

4th Before Advent 2007

4 before Advent (2007) RCL Year A Principal

Isaiah 1.10-18
2 Thessalonians 1
Luke 19.1-10

Out on a Limb…(pun intended)

Zaccheus is a very attractive figure from scripture, or rather the quaint story that we associate with him being a little man who shins up a tree to see Jesus is attractive to us. From the Sunday school song ‘Zaccheus was a very little man’ which I remember from ‘days of yore’ (whatever that means) to the wonderful transformation that sees him giving back what he took from others and following Jesus.

But I doubt he was a very attractive figure to those who knew him. We all know, I’m sure, that tax collectors like Zaccheus became rich by adding to the burden of tax demanded by the Roman authorities. Not only were they collaborators with an occupying power, but they were – more often than not – dishonest and greedy. They were not popular – so much so that one of the greatest insults hurled against Jesus was that he ‘ate and drank with tax collectors and sinners’.

Yet Jesus called him, invited himself to eat at Zaccheus house and changed his life. And in order for this to happen Zaccheus made the first move. He literally went out on a limb to see Jesus, and Jesus responded to that longing and met him where he was, giving Zaccheus a new purpose, a dignity and showing compassion and the grace of God to him.

There’s a lot of risk in this story, Zaccheus had to climb a tree, maybe not a big tree, but he exposed himself to public ridicule, particularly as he was probably not the most likely to receive a ‘mr popularity’ award in Jericho.

Then there’s the risk that Jesus takes by reaching out to this man. It’s easy to think that Jesus knew how Zaccheus would react, that this tax collector was open to Jesus’ message – but if Jesus was anything like us, and my reading of scripture is that he was very much like us – then reaching out to another person means that we set ourselves up for the very real possibility of rejection. For all Jesus might have know, Zaccheus could have been up that tree for the novelty value of seeing this miracle worker. He might not have been willing to deal with a genuine encounter with Jesus at all, but could have disappeared off into the crowd never to be seen again. It’s all very for us with hindsight and a Sunday school familiarity with this story to see the happy ending, but there is every chance it may not have ended up this way, Jesus wasn’t to know. After all, we only have to turn to the end of our Gospels to see how some reacted to him, with mocking, torture and crucifixion.

So there was a certain risk on both sides in this oh so familiar story.

Just as there is a risk every time we share the life and the love of Christ with those around us.

When I look around our congregations I see a huge amount to good work being done by Christians in our villages, a group of Christians who are overwhelmingly compassionate, thoughtful and caring. I can honestly say that in my life as a Christian I have never seen such a pastorally minded group of people, people concerned to put the love of God into action.

Yet there is often a reluctance to make it clear that we do what we do because of the Gospel of Christ. We don’t always name Jesus or even let others know that we are Christians. Now there are times that we do what we do just because that is how God has made us, and that it reflects the love of Christ that dwells in us. We aren’t looking for credit, nor to do a good PR job for the Church.

But we are, as Christians, called to live the Gospel in a way that it is proclaimed in word and deed. To take the risk of naming Jesus, and sharing Christ with our neighbours and friends.

But it’s a risky business, and I am not trying to make anyone feel guilty, or pressured, or resentful. It’s not just an issue for us as individual Christians – and I include myself in this, because despite the collar it is sometimes hard to speak out about faith for fear of turning people away! The issue of taking risks is something that the Church at large is having to tackle in terms of our calling to share in God’s Mission to the world.

In the past couple of years the phrase ‘fresh expressions’ has come into currency in the Church of England. In the US they have a somewhat more dynamic description of the same kind of movement ‘the emergent Church’. The groups which come under this banner are seeking to advance the Gospel in our post-Christian culture, by asking questions about our Church conventions and tradition, but seeking the core of Christian faith, and being willing to try new ways to express their worship, their faith and their commitment to the Gospel.

It is risky, and Churches meeting in pubs and schools, outside of the usual service times and with differing formats can cause those of us in more ‘conventional’ congregations a certain amount of discomfort. But it is part of being willing to proclaim the Gospel in ways which reach out to a very different world to the one which our traditional styles do. And many who would not respond to the usual ways we have of being Church are exploring faith through these new congregations.

And we come again to the need for all of us to be willing to take risks for the sake of the Gospel. To reach out as Jesus did to Zaccheus and to be a part of the lives of those outside our walls, rather than apart from them. In the first chapter of the second letter to the Thessalonians that was our second reading for today we are given reassurance of God’s presence with us even in suffering, and a prayer that we will be, as it says in verse 11 ‘worthy of God’s call and will fulfil by his power every good resolve and work of faith,’

Following Christ and sharing his Good News is a risky business – but then we must recognise that those who are seeking Christ are taking risks too, just like Zaccheus they are often out on a limb, detached from the culture that makes up their lives and hearing things which are disturbing and have the potential to turn their lives upside-down. We must respect the risk that others take in their own journeys of faith even as we ask God for the grace to take rishs ourselves – in our own personal walk with Christ and in the lives of our Churches. as St Paul says in verse 12 of 2 Timothy Chapter 1 ‘So that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ’

Bible Sunday Sermon

Bible Sunday (2007) Year C RCL Principal

Isaiah 45.22-25
Romans 15,1-6
Luke 4.16-24

Bible Sunday

Today is the Last Sunday after Trinity, it is also the Feast day of the Apostles St Simon and St Jude, and on top of that it is ‘Bible Sunday’ – so our thoughts this morning are focussed around the idea of the feast of God’s word that is our Bible. And I have only minutes to get to grips with the subject. So here goes, oh and for those who were at Team Evening Worship last week who recognise any of this, my apologies, some of this had to be said again!

How would you describe the Bible? (Few suggestions?) Word of God is the usual one. It is a title we need to be careful of, though – JESUS IS THE WORD OF GOD (John 1.1 ‘In the beginning was the Word’) I have a high regard for the Bible, it is foundational in my faith, it guides me, leads me, tells me the roots of the Christian story and invites me to join in. But I do not worship the Bible, I worship Jesus Christ.

How would you feel if we did as members of Sikhism do? If we treated the book of the Bible with such reverence and awe that we gave it its own bed to sleep in, and every morning took it out of bed with a procession and placed it on its reading stand. The act of worship in a Sikh temple basically involves reverencing the Granthi – the Holy Book, and listening to it. It is believed by Sikhs to be the living embodiment of truth. I don’t wish to imply any disrespect to the Sikh religion, what is contained within the Granthi is worth listening to and living by – but that is not how we as Christians are supposed to relate to our holy Scriptures. I think it is fitting that the main service is many Christian Churches is the Eucharist, which draws us towards an understanding of the word of God which is living and active – encountered in one another and in bread and wine – made real and solid, not simply in words on a page but in flesh and blood.

We are those who follow Christ, the living Word. In the Bible we are given stories, ideas, explorations, struggles, – but we are not called to worship the Bible. The response of many Christians to a difficult issue is ‘the Bible says’ – as they pull out a verse which is often out of context and relates to a different culture, a different era, a different world to where we are today.

In the Second letter to Timothy that we have been following over the past weeks in our service, chapter 3 verse 16 says, as I spoke on last week, ‘All Scripture is inspired by God’. But what exactly does that mean? Well if you read some other translations of the Bible, or even go back to the original language of the New Testament, Greek, you will find that the word ‘inspired’ means something like ‘God breathed’ – all Scripture is ‘God breathed’.

For Jews and Christians living about the time that this was read there was an idea that Scripture was living and active. There were many many books that came within the understanding of Scripture – so when the writer of this letter to Timothy talks of Scripture he is not talking about the Old Testament as we know it, and the New Testament has not even begun to appear yet, except as letters to Churches. The writer of this letter is talking about the tradition of Scripture – the books of law and prophets and the Jewish books that seek to interpret the law and the prophets. And the Jewish people had no concept of gathering all the scrolls together and making one definitive list, that did not happen until well after the time of the New Testament.

This principle is one that we have lost. We have encapsulated Scripture and claim that it is a solid block that cannot be tampered with. We forget that the Bible isn’t a book, it’s a library, with many different textures and stories woven together. Many Christian claim to know what it means and to use their interpretation to guide them throughout their life – but without recognising that they see Scripture through very different eyes from the ones who wrote and collated it so many years ago.

I believe that Scripture is living and active. That it leads us beyond itself to the God who is behind it all. I believe that we can use Scripture to guide us and teach us, to lead us into truth. But I do not believe that we do so by simple picking it up, saying ‘Oh, the Bible says this or this’ and then applying that straight to our lives. No I have more reverence for the Bible than that.

The Bible is a collection of thoughts, some of them good, some bad, that lead us to knowledge of God and a relationship to Jesus Christ. Reading the Bible should not give us a nice cosy feeling that we have the truth all sorted out – rather it should disturb us, and shake us from sleep, it should be like a slap in the face that calls us to follow Christ more faithfully.

You see, the Bible often does not have answers to every question we have. As a minister I find myself asking many questions – both about my faith and about God. This is especially the case as I wonder about the way life is going to change for Jo and I when our baby is born in the near future. It’s also the case every time I officiate at a funeral, or speak to someone of their difficulties in life. And the Bible does not give me a definitive answer to questions such as why things happen, instead the Bible offers me the understanding that God is alongside us in life and in death, in the times we feel empty and alone, in the times we feel elated.

Look at the Psalms, for instance, the ‘Theology’ in some of them is terrible and does not fit well with the Christian message – The Psalmist talks of death being the absolute end, that no one who dies will ever be able to praise or see God. In the light of the resurrection of Christ, however, and the understanding that has grown up since then we believe that God offers us life eternally, in all its fullness. But though the Psalms may be incomplete they do offer us a picture of how we might be honest before God. In this way they are inspired, they allow us to be ourselves. In one Psalm the writer says of the Babylonians ‘blessed is the one who dashes your children’s heads upon the rocks’. A sickening image, and one which we would in no way ascribe to, but it gives us an idea of how to be honest before God, not to hold back our anger, our fear, our feelings.

And so Scripture offers us stories, ideas. As a whole it gives us ‘The Story of Faith’ from a perspective of the Christian Church. And it allows us to join in that story, to tell it ourselves, to make it our own story and to add our own stories to it. What I am saying is that I don’t think we should just take Scripture as it is – we must acknowledge that we are in a process of interpreting scripture. Scripture is living and active, and that means that we have to work at discerning the truth beyond the words.

To truly engage with Scripture takes work, it takes study, prayer and meditation. We need the eyes of faith in order to see its truth, we need the Holy Spirit to guide us. We need to be open to new ideas, to be willing to admit we were wrong, to move on and be shaken by God speaking through the Scriptures.

The problem often with the way in which we read scripture in Church is that it all sounds the same, we have short passages read out of context and even the best preacher (and I don’t count myself in that number) can only give so much background to each Biblical passage week by week. We need to look at Scripture ourselves, to read it, perhaps with the aid of Bible notes, day by day. Not to read it for the sake of reading the Bible, but to delve into this wonderful feast of faith that is the Bible. Last Sunday I got the small group that came to Team Evening Worship to consider the different types of writing that our Bible contains – the styles of writing, which we call Genres, within the Bible. We came up with quite a long list – and if we were advertising it in the way in which movies are advertised then some gravelly American voice would have their work cut out ‘War, romance, poetry, story, parable, myth, history, biography, faith, letter’ all of this kind of writing and so much more make up our Bibles, and just asking ourselves as we read ‘what type of writing is this, and where did it come from’ can offer us insight into the depth and variety of our Scriptural diet.

We should take time to read the bits we don’t like, not just the bits we do, we should struggle with the food laws in Deuteronomy, or a huge wedge of genealogy every now and then in order to ask ‘why is this here’ and ‘what can I learn from this’, or the question that I was taught to ask at every point of my training ‘where is God in all this?’ This is not an approach that fits well with taking Scripture as a solid block, instead it is a process of learning, of seeing where scripture leads us, of being unafraid to ask difficult questions and not expect easy answers. I pray that we will all grapple with Scripture and allow it to grapple with us. Amen.

Another sermon! Trinity 17

Year C Proper 21 (2007) RCL Principal

Luke 16.19-end
1 Timothy 6.6-19
Psalm 91
Jeremiah 32.1-3a, 6-15

Nervous Church..

In reports in the news media, from comments I hear at Church meetings and around the place I get the feeling that we are a very nervous Church at the moment. We are told our congregations are dwindling, there are competing ‘entertainments’ which distract people from involving themselves in Church life, people are interested in ‘spirituality’ (whatever that means) but not in ‘institutional religion’ – except, it seems, for various forms of fundamentalism which offers a safe haven in a rapidly changing world. Within the Church ongoing rows bubble away over the ordination of women, now concerned with consecrating women as Bishops, and over the ordination of openly gay bishops and the blessing of same-sex marriages, and to top it all every now and then up pops a conspiracy theory aimed at taking away the little authority the Church has – whether the Gospel of Judas, the daVinci code or any other fashionable excuse for dismissing the Church.

And some of this is true. There are a lot of things which are stripping away the authority and influence the Church has built up over many centuries. People are less afraid to criticise the Church, and we find ourselves ridiculed or, more often than not, ignored in our present day society. Many people lament the fact that we no longer have the respect we once had, or that people no longer consider Churchgoing a duty as they once did. As if somehow we deserve to have our Churches full, and for people to listen and take note of our every pronouncement.

These days it seems the Church is only noticed when there is some negative news, like a child abuse scandal, or some form of sexual or financial misconduct, or sadly, as we have seen recently in the news, when a Vicar falls out with his or her congregation in a spectacular way and they feel the need to bring this up before a Consistory Court.

But, and this may come as a surprise, we do not have any right to expect respect, or to be heard, just by virtue of being ‘the Church’. And we shouldn’t expect to either. Jesus certainly didn’t expect this would be the case.
Luke 6
22 Blessed are ye, when men shall hate you, and when they shall separate you from their company, and shall reproach you, and cast out your name as evil, for the Son of man's sake. 23 Rejoice ye in that day, and leap for joy: for, behold, your reward is great in heaven: for in the like manner did their fathers unto the prophets.
or
John 16
1 ‘I have said these things to you to keep you from stumbling. 2They will put you out of the synagogues. Indeed, an hour is coming when those who kill you will think that by doing so they are offering worship to God. 3And they will do this because they have not known the Father or me.

Jesus knew that following him and proclaiming his message was more likely to lead to condemnation than adulation. And that our message was not an easy one to hear – even though our message is weighted towards love and grace and forgiveness, it is still a message of calling, of faithfulness, of living to a different standard, of faith, of trust, of hope. These aren’t actually things that people seem terribly keen on if it cuts into their lives of self sufficiency, self obsession and self absorbtion. If it prevents them enjoying the things they want to enjoy on their own terms.

But this isn’t new. Look at today’s parable. We have the familiar, though disturbing, parable known traditionally as the parable of Dives and Lazarus. One in which a rich man through his selfishness finds himself condemned to eternal punishment and a poor man through his suffering finds the reward of the next world.

Now I would caution about taking this parable too literally as a description of how God sorts out the afterlife – it seems to rule out the possibility of forgiveness and grace, and has no mention of faith or trust in Christ. Like many of Jesus’ parables it paints a vivid picture of the consequences of our actions, and challenges us to live to God’s standards, though we may not necessarily believe in a literal hell where people are punished for eternity for their deeds we are warned how seriously God takes us neglecting our neighbour and not working to end the kind of injustice that causes the suffering endured by Lazarus.

But i want to particularly highlight the last words of today’s parable.
Luke 16
30He (Dives – the Rich man) said, “No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.” 31He (Abraham) said to him, “If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.” ’

Not being listened to is not a very new thing for Christians. It does no good to lament our lot, complaining that we don’t have the power and influence we once had – and there are very good arguments against that power and influence for it seemed to breed corruption through the whole of the Church and meant that the Gospel message was often lost in the midst of religious trappings and a desire for money and to keep the power over people’s lives that this position brought.

It should cause us to ask, though, what is it that would make people listen to our message? If preaching the Gospel of the risen Christ cannot convince people, as the parable implies, then what is it that will draw people into new life?

Well there is an implication from the passage that it is our deeds that make a difference. Rather than focussing on the life beyond, we should focus more on the life we lead here. Not so that we might earn a place in paradise, but so that the way we live is consistent with God’s values. In contrast with the rich man in today’s parable these values consist of humility, compassion and doing what one can about injustice. It seems to me that being rich was not that man’s problem – but his attitude and use of that wealth was. The Gospel is for rich and poor, it calls us to recognise our need for each other, and calls us to share all that we have with one another without begrudging those in need. In this way our Christ-centred values are lived out, with grace and love and faith.

And alongside this we are called to live out our lives faithfully, with love and forgiveness, with a calling to moral purity, gathering together as the God’s people sharing life and love and worshipping God. Recognising our own need of grace and of God’s touch of healing and forgiveness. It is this that earns us the right to speak out the Good News of Jesus Christ. Lives lived to God’s standards, inspired by God’s holy Spirit and heeding the calling of Christ. We call upon God for grace to live as he demands and in living this way we are able to invite others to share in this great story of redemption that we are privileged to share in.

This should embolden us in our proclamation, too, as we find our who lives consistent with the message of truth which we are a part of. We have no need to be nervous, for the numbers who attend our church, those who respect our Clergy or the privilege which our Church has enjoyed in previous generations are not marks of our faith. The test of whether we are successful as a Church is not whether we have lots of people coming, but whether we are following Jesus, and learning to love God, our neighbours and our selves with all that we are. May God give us his grace that it might be so. Amen.

Trinity 14 - sermon time, only a bit late

Year C Proper 18

Jeremiah 18.1-11
Psalm 139.1-5 & 12-18
Philemon verses 1-21
Luke 14.25-33

Tough Stuff

It’s very nice to be back here at Yelling after some time since I was last here. It is even more special because it was seven years ago this week that I was licensed in Yelling Parish Church to the Papworth Team to serve in these parishes, and as I hope to renew my license this week I have the opportunity to reflect on what this last seven years have meant both to myself and to these parishes…

Not that I plan to spend the next few minutes talking about all that has happened or sharing stories of those I’ve married or buried or baptised in these past seven years – though I have been privileged to share in some momentous events here and to be a part of some poignant and powerful pastoral events in my time.

But looking back over my time here I have to be honest and say it’s been hard. This isn’t a complaint, and if it had been too much I wouldn’t be wanted to stay! But it has been a tough few years. Personally I have to say that I have been on quite a steep learning curve in my personal, pastoral and professional life. I know I’ve not always been right, and there have been some things I could have done better, things I didn’t do as I should have, and things I wish I’d known when I arrived. But I hope and trust that I have learned and grown in my time here, as many of those in our Parishes have done also.

Our parishes have been through major changes too, in personnel, in our times and styles of services, in the fabric of our buildings and the organisation of our Team. Many of these changes have been overwhelmingly positive but alongside that we have lost some very special people, we’ve struggled with the issues facing our villages today and we’ve had pain and sadness alongside the joy and the rewards of our ministry.

For those who think that this Christianity lark is a doddle and that Churches are havens for the weak, a short time in our villages would soon show what a nonsense that is.

I have had people say to me that ‘religion is a crutch’ and that it props up those who are too weak minded to carry on without some kind of spiritual panacea. Actually, if we were to carry on that metaphor I would say that religion isn’t a crutch, but a stretcher, because the only way we can truly encounter God is by being carried there by his grace, and through grace alone.

But it is difficult to be a Christian. It’s not a way out of the ‘real world’ but a way which makes us sensitive to the pain and brokenness of our society and the world around us. Christian faith doesn’t make us immune to suffering or pain, in fact it more often than not makes us more aware of the suffering of others and prevents becoming apathetic or uncaring towards one another or the world.

But none of this should surprise us. Being a Christian is hard, and today’s Gospel reading is quite clear about that. Jesus doesn’t pull any punches. Jesus compares following him to setting off to war, or preparing a major building operation, not something to be taken lightly, and not something to be undertaken without planning to see it through to the end. Even more so he says ‘Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple’.

Crosses would have been a relatively familiar sight to the people Jesus was speaking to. A grisly and long lasting form of execution it was used as much as a deterrent to those thinking of disobeying Roman law as a way of punishing lawbreakers. Crosses were put in prominent places where people would see them, and before each crucifixion the condemned would be forced, as in the Good Friday story we know so well, to carry their cross to their place of execution – a very public spectacle.

So Jesus refers to something that is both familiar and shocking to try and give some idea of the cost of discipleship. There is no hint in this passage, or indeed in any of Jesus words, that being a disciple is an easy option, or the route to a cushy life. In fact throughout the Gospels Jesus talks of his own homeless status, about the need to endure suffering, about the threat of persecution, about working hard and about absolute devotion to God’s cause – a devotion that is equivalent to hating family, friends and even life itself.

But this suffering is not an end in itself, it often comes as a part of the life of the disciple, part of every life – but we don’t follow in order that we might suffer, but we endure suffering that we might be faithful. Our call is not to suffer, but to remain true to our faith and to the truth of Christ no matter what we endure.

And even from suffering God can bring life. Jesus suffered and died on the cross that he might defeat the greatest suffering, that of death and the power of sin. Then through his faithfulness was brought back to life again through the power and the love of God.

And in our Old Testament Reading for today we have a beautiful, though still slightly uncomfortable, picture of suffering and how God can bring beauty out of brokenness. The well known image of the potter and the clay reminds us that God does allow the world to break us in the same way that a piece of clay may go through many different stages of being broken, remoulded and remade before it is finished. From that brokenness comes a work of art, a vessel which may be something of great beauty, or something with a purpose and a reason. It isn’t a easy process, but in our own Christian lives we need to trust that God is doing something to bring healing out of pain, to bring something good out of even the worst times and events.

Let’s pray not that we might escape all the troubles of the world, but rather that through everything we may endure and be faithful, allowing the potter to reshape and create something new, fashioning from the struggle something beautiful and filled with purpose. And let’s pray that we will have the faith to see God at work, even when it seems the struggle is too much.

May God bless us in all we endure, and give us strength, faith, hope and love.

Sermon for Trinity 13, Proper 17

Trinity 12 (2001) Year C RCL Principal

Jeremiah 2.4–13
Hebrews 13.1–8, 15–16
Luke 14.1, 7–14

Practical Spirituality

If I had 5p for every time someone told me that ‘Christianity is boring’ – I’d be at least two pounds better off by now!! It’s a common misunderstanding. People confuse the trappings of the Christian Church – whether it’s smells and bells, or guitars and choruses, with the Christian Faith – and if they don’t like the way things are done, then obviously the Church is boring.

But the Christian Faith is certainly not boring. And in fact, if you ever get into a conversation with someone about faith then it will usually emerge that people find Jesus, the founder of our faith, fascinating. They just seem to be able to separate Jesus and Christianity – and the latter is given the label boring.

The Christian Faith, however, is (or perhaps we should say the Christian Faith should be) exciting, challenging and disturbing. Exciting because our faith comes from Jesus, the son of God and Son of Man, the holy one, the Messiah – who showed us how we are truly meant to live, challenging because this same Jesus never lets us rest on our laurels, but constantly calls us on to new and different things, and disturbing because Christian Faith can turn our world upside-down and make us think, even make us change so we become more like Jesus ourselves.

Take this morning’s reading from the Gospel for instance. Jesus has been invited out to dinner – and if we look carefully at the passage, he has been invited by the Pharisees in the hope that they might catch him out. Rather than setting himself up for a fall, Jesus makes a very practical observation about how people chose the place they wanted to sit at the meal – and offers an alternative way, a challenge, to the way that things were being done. Without actually pointing the finger, Jesus offers a dig at the way those who were trying to catch him out acted.

Jesus then takes this a stage further by saying that when we invite others to share our meals, and to share our lives, we should expect nothing back. Our sharing should be done out of a desire to serve the kingdom of God, and any reward will be in God’s good time.

All at once Jesus has challenged the Pharisees way of doing things, he has offered a very practical piece of advice, and he has made a point about the kingdom of God. Not bad for a one paragraph story.

And this, in so many ways, offers some ideas about what Christian faith is really all about. Jesus is concerned with the real world, none of this boring otherworldly ‘out there’ stuff – but a practical, everyday faith that informs even our seating arrangements. AND at the same time Jesus shows that his concern is fixed squarely on God’s agenda and the way that God does things

Christianity is a mixture, it’s a faith that is spiritual, concerned with the deeper meanings of life, and at the same time it is a faith that calls us to take note of the things that are going on around us. We, as Christians are to be grounded in the real world, in the everyday, in the practical things of life.

And this point is well made in the verses from the letter to the Hebrews that we heard earlier too. For those who might have caught the New Testament readings of the past few weeks then you might realise that we’ve gone through quite a lot of the letter to the Hebrews over the past few weeks. We’ve had these wonderful passages about faith and heard all the heroes of faith from the Old Testament and about their link with the first Christians. Now the author links that great heritage of faith to some very practical advice about what Christian Faith is about.

1 Let mutual love continue. 2 Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. 3 Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured. 4 Let marriage be held in honour by all, and let the marriage bed be kept undefiled; for God will judge fornicators and adulterers. 5 Keep your lives free from the love of money, and be content with what you have;

There we are again, a concern with the real world, held alongside a deeper level of the life of the Spirit. I think the best way to talk about this is to describe our faith as being a ‘Practical Spirituality.’ We are not called to (as one Christian writer once said) have our minds so concerned with heaven that we are of no earthly use. At the same time, though, our Christian Faith is not just about the world we see – but about eternity, about the life of the spirit, and a calling to know and love God, to worship in Spirit and truth, to know Jesus and know ourselves known by God.

If our faith holds this practical spirituality in balance then we are in no danger of being boring, the Church is in no danger of being irrelevant, and Christians will be those who carry on Jesus role of challenging the way the world is – of drawing people’s attention to the way God wants us to be, and of showing people the love of God, and the hope of the kingdom of God.

The best advert for the Church is not how we do things in this or any other building. It’s not our care of our Churches, nor our music, or what we wear, it’s not whether we have trendy motorbiking Vicars. The best advert for the Church is a Christian who is alive in faith. The best advert, the way that people will be attracted to or put off faith, is you and I. If our numbers are dropping, it’s not just because of the time of our service, or because of the type of service we have, it’s because people aren’t invited to take part by their Christian friends, or because the Christian Faith is seen as boring and irrelevant due to the fact that everything we seem to do is so boring and irrelevant. The things that are growing in the Church (and don’t be put off by the papers, the Church of England and some other denominations are growing) are the activities put on by Christians which show their concern for the communities around them.

The Churches that are growing are those who meet the needs of families, who try different things, who offer opportunities to pray together, to socialize, to study the Bible, to look at the Christian faith. These Churches offer every kind of Christian Worship on Sundays, 1662, Common Worship, the Roman Missal, Methodist Services, Taize worship, informal praise, whatever – but it is the Christians that are a part of them that draw other people to the Churches.

Perhaps we need to stand back and ask some hard questions about why we are here, and why we do what we do. We need, I believe to sort out our priorities as Christians, and then consider what kind of Church God wants us to be. When we put our faith into action, people are attracted. When we are welcoming and open, people will come. Until that time we can worry about the times of services, the heating, the service books, our hymns, or whatever, but none of it makes any difference if our lives of faith don’t shine in such a way that those who see us are impressed by our faith, and therefore want to be a part of what we do, and to share the life of our Christian fellowships in these villages.

May God give us grace, and strength and vision to be Christians who make a difference in this world and in our villages, and who draw others to the light of Christ through our lives and witness. Amen.