Defined by the Eucharist - a Maundy Thursday Sermon

Last year I began the sermon for Maundy Thursday (yes, I check these things, just to make sure don’t repeat myself too much) with the words “At the blessing of the oils service this morning in the Cathedral, Bishop Logan reminded us….”

And though I don’t like to repeat myself, I want to start my thoughts this evening with these words “At the blessing of the oils service this morning in our Cathedral, Bishop Logan reminded us… “ that this most Holy meal that we share this evening defines who we are.  I seem to get a lot of food for thought from our Bishop's Maundy sermons!  

Bishop Logan spoke very personally of his experience of being a part of the ceremonies around the demolition of St Michael's residential school in Alert bay and talked of healing, he pointed to the Eucharist as a place of healing and reconciliation and how we are called to be people of healing.  There is so much more I could share with you on that theme - but it was that one phrase 'It is the Eucharist that defines us' that really stuck with me as I prepared these thoughts.  So I have gone in a slightly different direction - and here goes:

It is the Eucharist that forms us, our sharing in bread and wine that nourishes us, our Holy Communion that sustains us and builds us up in community.  That is why, on this most Holy Night, we remember the institution of Holy Communion.  We remember that before his death Jesus gathered his closest friends around him to share at table in the marking of the Passover and during that meal left a reminder of his self-offering that we call the Eucharist – a word from the Greek that means ‘Thanksgiving’.  Not only  that, but in doing so left us with the command “do this in remembrance of me”.  We are to continually offer thanksgiving and to share in this Holy Meal as we recall the death and resurrection of our loving, living Christ.

The Eucharist defines us – but how…? We will all have reasons why we find this sharing significant, and I am not trying to tell you what you have to believe about this sacred feast, but here are some ways in which we might recognise who we are called to be in the sharing of this sacrament.

Firstly, it reminds us to be people of gratitude.  It is in its very naming, as I said, a thanksgiving.  It calls us to remember the goodness we enjoy – to use an old-fashioned phrase – to ‘count our blessings’.  It calls us to be people whose attitude is turned not to seeing all that is bad and wrong with the world (though we should not ignore those things) but to seek the beauty and life of the God who is in all things, who is all in all.  To have hearts tuned to life and hope and truth and wonder. 

Next, it reminds us of our calling to be in community.  The name ‘Holy Communion’ which is still the name many refer to this service by, reminds us that we are in communion not only with the God who meets us here – but with the others who meet us here too.  One of the sadnesses, in my opinion, of our post enlightenment, individualistic culture – and of those religious expressions that focus on ‘me and my relationship with Jesus’ and major on personal salvation is that we have lost that sense of being the body of Christ, of being so intimately connected to one another that we are like parts of the body connected by ligament and muscle and flesh.

One of our sentences at the breaking of the bread – technically called ‘the Fraction’ for those who like to know these things – goes like this “Creator of all,

you gave us golden fields of wheat,

whose many grains we have gathered

and made into this one bread.

All So may your Church be gathered

from the ends of the earth

into your kingdom. ”

Says it all, really. It’s all about the together, folks!

This holy meal reminds us too of God’s offer of sustenance in our journey.  And of how God meets us where we are.  I love the fact that the Eucharist isn’t some kind of abstract celebration all about words and theory, but is earthy – the everyday things of food and drink, though ritualised, are offered to us as a reminder that God offers the sustenance our hearts and souls needs.  We are reminded also that God is not disembodied or disinterested but grounded in the reality of everyday life.   Another of the Fraction sentences says ““I am the bread of life,” says the Lord.

“Whoever comes to me will never be hungry;

whoever believes in me will never thirst.” “

Of course this isn’t just a fanciful idea, but one which we, as the people of God, are called to make a reality – that we point others to the reality of a God who slakes our spiritual thirst and feeds our spiritual hunger, but that we also work for a world where none hunger and thirst as we are reminded that this is the calling of the body of Christ, to meet the needs of the world around us as well as our own.

Next, I believe the Eucharist defines us as broken people.  By which I mean that the brokenness we often experience personally, or the broken relationships in our lives, or the brokenness of the world is echoed in the breaking of bread that we have in the heart of our Eucharistic observance.  Those wonderful words from the resurrection appearance of Christ to two followers at Emmaus (and though it is holy week, we can’t really consider the Eucharist without considering the resurrection life it points towards) are in our Emmaus chapel window and, for me, define the core of our Communion. “They knew him in the breaking of the bread.”  Christ, body broken and yet somehow brought back to life, breaks bread again.  In that symbol of brokenness is so much to do with sharing, healing, and being connected to Christ – but also, for me, a recognition of the brokenness of the world in which somehow Christ is always present.  Christ is alive even in the darkest and most broken places, and meets us there.  Another Fraction sentence – this one which we have been using throughout Lent and Holy Week.

We break this bread,

Communion in Christ’s body once broken.

Let your Church be the wheat

which bears its fruit in dying.

If we have died with him,

we shall live with him;

if we hold firm,

we shall reign with him.

And that links to my next to last thought – that a number of people have expressed their distaste at the last part of that sentence, that reigning with Christ has echoes of dominance and royalty with which many of us – including myself – are uncomfortable with.  In every Eucharist we are reminded of a servant king whose role is not to dominate, but to unite – to bring people together in love and service.  When we talk of reigning with Christ we talk of being alongside Christ in that place and time when love, grace, peace, justice, mercy and wholeness are made manifest.

In this particular Eucharist we see this of course in the symbolic act of the washing of feet which Jane will be taking part in on behalf of all of us in ministry, indeed on behalf of all of us in the people of God for we are all ministers one to another.  This is the reign of Christ – offering to wash the feet of one another.

And lastly for my thoughts – though there is so much more that I could say but won’t – the Eucharist defines us as sent people.  Though we have been gathered and united at this feast, we are not called to stay huddled together for spiritual warmth in this comfortable place.  The Eucharist demands that we go forth – or as they say in the Catholic liturgy ‘The Mass is ended, go in peace’.  Our own prayer books offer a variety of sentences that finish our service with the dismissal, but my own favourite is – Go in love and peace to serve the Lord. 

Thanks be to God.

Midweek Sermon

As these don't tend to get shared elsewhere - here is my midweek thinking for today...

James Hannington Bishop of Eastern Equatorial Africa, and His Companions Martyrs, 1885 — Commemoration

Matthew 10.16–22

¹⁶ ‘See, I am sending you out like sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. ¹⁷Beware of them, for they will hand you over to councils and flog you in their synagogues; ¹⁸and you will be dragged before governors and kings because of me, as a testimony to them and the Gentiles. ¹⁹When they hand you over, do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say; for what you are to say will be given to you at that time; ²⁰for it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you. ²¹Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death; ²²and you will be hated by all because of my name. But the one who endures to the end will be saved.

I’m not sure we should have favourite Bible verses, but today’s Gospel reading contains one of mine!  “Be wise as serpents and innocent as doves” says Jesus.  Not quite as powerful, perhaps as ‘For God so loved the world” or as resonant and long lasting as the image of a wayward son or a good Samaritans, but still I find it a most profound and helpful verse – and part of a profound and powerful passage.

Christians, especially Anglicans, are often looked at as being somewhat bloodless in their faith.  We are considered by the majority of people to be the acceptable face of religion!  Whether it’s true or not – apart from the odd fundamentalist or religious nut - we are looked on as a relatively mellow and bloodless kind of religion. Here I could get into a long discussion about what happens when people add the name of Christian faith to their campaigns and crusades and the less than illustrious history of the Church – but after a couple of thousand years and the ubiquity of Christendom in the west there’s a certain level of blandness ascribed to Christianity.  In Western Culture at least…

But Jesus doesn’t give us that impression.  No bloodless faith in his world.  His is a faith that is full of passion and compassion, life, love, wisdom and grace. But also a faith that is strong, life changing, risky and dangerous. 

There is an expectation in Jesus’ talking of faith that it is and will be dangerous to stand up for faith.  But there is also an expectation that those of follow the way of Christ will be able to stand. Far from the images of ‘gentle Jesus meek and mild’ we see in today’s lesson a strength in refusing to fight back against persecutors, to speak out without violence for that which is right.  Jesus reassures his hearers that that those who are taken prisoner for their faith will be given words to say and the courage of the Holy Spirit even under persecution.  I am grateful that we don’t suffer being tortured and put to death for our faith, as Bishop Hannington and his companions did and the persecutions we suffer are (relatively) mild in our society – though I know some of you will have experience of the danger of speaking out for faith – but there is still a calling to stand, to share, to change our world with the life of faith no matter what the cost.

And into this Jesus speaks these words – be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.

What does that mean, though?

I think it means be canny (as they say in Scotland and the North of England) – listen and learn, take your opportunities where you can, be crafty.  Yet at the same time be honest, and transparent, be people of integrity.  Act, and be, righteous.

We are not called to naivety, or to being treated like doormats. We are called to be strong, and committed and faithful and loving, even when it hurts. We are called to be Christ like in our words and our actions, and even our thinking.

If we are willing to stand up for that which is right, and to share the faith which Christ calls us to – a transforming, disturbing, honest and powerful faith. A faith that calls all to leaving behind dishonesty and abuse, injustice and inequality. Faith that calls to love and serve one another, to know ourselves loved and to act with love towards all.

If we are willing to stand for that faith then we will put ourselves at risky of persecution, marginalisation, condemnation.  Or just of apathy and disregard. But in following Christ we are challenged to live lives which are completely dependent on God, that are different to the lives we would live without God, and that make a difference to the world as much as we allow the Spirit moving in us to make a difference to ourselves.

 May we be, with the Spirit’s help, wise as serpents and innocent as doves.  

Power and Pastoral Ministry - Chapter Four (the Penultimate Chapter)

The nature of power in Pastoral Ministry

Chapter 4

The use of power, and its abuses

In the previous chapter we saw how power has been an integral part of the ministry of the Church since it’s inception, by the example of the power and authority within the ministry of Jesus and by the authority conferred onto the Apostles and subsequent leaders of the Church.

Power, and the authority which often makes that power possible, undergirds the relationship between client and minister in any pastoral encounter.  The client will have certain expectations, whether right or wrong, and will usually come to the pastor, to a greater or lesser degree, in a position of weakness comparative to the strength of the pastor.  They will assume the pastor’s ‘expertise’, ‘concern’, ‘compassion’ and ‘wisdom’ exists for the benefit of those who seek his or her aid or advice. Brice Avery (1996: 34) writes that,

“The essence of a nourishing pastoral encounter is that it teaches people that they are valued. For those seeking pastoral help this takes place in the very special relationship with the helper.”

 

Problems & Confusions

The assumption on the part of the client that this depth of compassionate relationship is also the wish of the pastor is one that can influence the pastor for the worst.  It can place a pastor in a mindset of superiority, and leave open the possibility of manipulation or abuse.  When the pastor realises the dependence shown by the client toward them this opens up the possibility of a dangerously unequal and ultimately abusive relationship.  If this happens it is usually the case that this occurs on an unconscious level as the pastor often seeks to have their own needs met in the relationship with a client.  This is probably quite common and not always harmful as client and pastor learn to meet each other’s needs, but it brings about the possibility of serious difficulties and ultimately fails to resolve the issues that brought the client to the pastor in the first place.  As Avery  (1996: 35) tells us

“Re-enacting our own unresolved inner dramas in the context of a victim of something that we can identify with is a sort of Taking Disguised as Giving.  It can be an unconscious motivation behind the well-meaning help which characterizes poorly trained counsellors.  It is for this reason that all credible pastoral training revolves around the pastors’ exploration of their own inner world.”

Avery (1996: 40) goes on to say that it is crucial that “we tell the difference between our own hurts and those of others.” A good pastor, then, will be concerned with their own motivations, any tendencies they have towards controlling other, and any weaknesses in their own character or method that might hinder positive development in pastoral work. Avery (1996: 41) explains thus:

“…the pastoral encounter requires a partial and mutual emotional immersion of the pastor and the client: how else is the pastor to know what it is to be like the client?  But, and this is crucial…the pastor has to know his or her own responses to as wide a range of emotional contacts as possible to be able to tell the difference between their own feelings-world and that of the client.”

A major danger of pastoral power, then, is that the minister can use their position to play out their own fantasies, to attempt to externalise their own hurts and make others the victims of the pastor’s unresolved difficulties.  It is not always so blatant, often both pastor and client are completely unaware of the issues that form the background to their relationship, they may not realise that what is really happening is the projection of the pastor’s hurts, prejudices or agenda on to the client.  This is because, as Avery (1996: 41) explains, in a pastoral relationship where intimacy has begun, 

“…the border between what is the pastor and what is the client is blurred and dynamic.  It is never completely clear and is always shifting.”

 

The ‘Nine O’Clock Service’

This leads on to issues of self-knowledge, supervision and accountability.  It is important to be aware of these issues  because they so often negatively influence the pastoral encounter.  The dangers of self-seeking pastoral power can be seen in the situation that arose around the Nine O’Clock Service (NOS) in Sheffield.  The situation itself is well documented, especially by Howard (1996)  and the events surrounding the breakdown of the structures of the group drew the interest, as well as the scorn, of the national media. 

Essentially the difficulties of NOS and its eventual demise arose from the power which the leader and founder, Chris Brain, held over those who worked with him.  Brain had an obvious ‘charismatic’ power, many beleived in Brain’s personal authority and this allowed him power over their lives, power which turned into manipulation and control.  This charismatic power was given the backing of institutional authority when Brain was ordained in the Church of England, first deacon, then priest.   Without the knowledge of those in the hierarchy of the Church of England, Brain’s methods of control and his serious abuses of pastoral power had been legitimised by the giving of institutional authority and by conferring an office and title upon him. 

In the introduction to his detailed study of the situation Roland Howard writes that the story of NOS was not the story, as the Church of England thought, of a radical new ‘youth movement’ that empowered members of ‘Youth culture’ but that, as Howard (1996: 6) explains

“The real story is of betrayal and abuse…Moreover, it is of a priest manipulating, controlling and dominating the minds of several hundred members who thought he was ministering to them.  The real story is about an insatiable desire for power, which was fulfilled by money and sexual involvement.  This power was power to damn, power to humiliate, power to enter people’s minds and power to control them.”

This is the danger of pastoral power, when individuals drawn by the charisma of a leader who they believe wishes only the best for them, find the trust which has been placed in that leader is ill-founded and misappropriated for his or her own ends.   NOS is an extreme example of how pastoral relationships can be abused and result in damage rather than healing for the client, and indeed the pastor.  The result of the Nine O’Clock Service’s difficulties was that the congregation, hurt and confused, either moved away from the Christian Community altogether, or needed intense care and counselling to go beyond their wounds and start to build trust in the pastoral ministry of the church again. 

The principal, though not sole, agent of the abuses of NOS, Chris Brain, also, needed counselling to examine his own motivation and the results of his manipulative strategies.  It is likely that he was ultimately unaware of the true extent of the mental and spiritual pain he was inflicting on those he used to meet his own power-hungry ends.  Howard (1996: 133) tells us that Brain told a national newspaper

“To find that I am some kind of abuser of people I dearly love, in the areas I most passionately believe in, and thought I had worked so hard for, fills me with utter despair and I do not know what I can say.  I am sorry for the consequences of what I have done.  I can see what I could not see before and I am profoundly and desperately sorry.”

There are questions about whether this confession and apology is completely genuine, but many of those associated with Brain do maintain that he seemed to act without full knowledge of the negative effect he was having on the lives of those who had put themselves into his hands.

There is little doubt of the fact that the structure’s of NOS were in themselves set up to give Brain complete control, they were engineered so that even in his absence he remained a ‘shadowy figure in the background.’  Many church structures in mainstream denominations have the aim of keeping the minister at the head of the leadership structure, but few function so overtly to ensure the power of the leader is always felt and powerlessness is considered appropriate for all others.  The structure was engineered to make all activity of NOS dependent upon Brain.

 

Oscillation

Dependency is not necessarily a negative concept, it is possible to have a model of appropriate dependence upon the pastor.  Such a model would be one which allows the pastor to make painful observations which are able to move the client on towards healing, one which opens up the possibilities of fruitful pastoral development and ultimately to self-awareness and wholeness on the part of the client.  This model of appropriate dependence is put forward by Bruce Reid (1974)  in his book ‘The Dynamics of Religion’ and revolves around a process which he names ‘oscillation theory’.  Reid (1974: 41) explains

“The picture of the life of the individual is one of periods of engagements with various tasks, alternating with periods of disengagement which may be creative, defensive or simply periods of rest, we have called this alternative process ‘oscillation’”

This theory is pertinent to our discussion in this chapter and in the next and so bears some in depth study as we considering applying its principles to our concerns.

Reid’s understanding of ‘oscillation’ is introduced by using the image of a child’s dependence upon parents, as part of the process of maturing.  Reid (1974: 41: 13) uses the example of children learning to swim, saying that when, for instance, the mother accompanies a child into the swimming pool the child will strike out and explore the water, returning occasionally to rest, and gain physical and emotional strength through reassurance of the presence of mother before striking out further and further in the pursuit of self sufficiency in the water.  This might seem a purely anecdotal argument, but the Reid’s book carries on to show the application of this analogy to pastoral life. 

Using a variety of sources of evidence and by interpreting and applying the works of a number of psychological and social theorists Reid comes to the conclusion that human beings need a certain amount of security in their lives, especially in their relationships, in order to achieve integration as individuals and become a part of the community/society, in other words, to function fully in everyday life.  He tells us (1974: 15)

“We have used the term ‘oscillation’ to refer to the alternation of the child and the adult between periods of autonomous activity and periods of physical or symbolic contact with sources of renewal.”

These sources of renewal take many forms for different people, as stated above, it may simply be rest, or solitude.  It may be ongoing involvement in a group, or family life.  For the purpose of this essay, though, we will particularly consider being an active part of the church, or having an active concern for the spiritual side of one’s life as the main source of renewal for those with whom pastors have most contact.

Dependence & Regression

Reid’s concept of oscillation can be expanded by using the terms ‘regression’ and ‘dependence’ which he uses as the basis for his theory.  Reid contests the often negative uses of these words and explain that both  ‘regression’ and ‘dependence’ can be functional or dysfunctional.  For instance, to immerse oneself fully into a play or a novel one has to suspend certain critical faculties which, he claims, amounts to a form of regression.  In a similar way, says Reid, participation in worship involves similar actions. Reid (1974: 23) writes ‘In worship our thoughts and feelings are engaged by narratives, images and ideas which refer to a world, or a realm of experience, other than our working or social lives.’

In this way our engagement with the world of worship does not conflict with our everyday reality.  Reid (1974: 24-25)uses the example of the hymn ‘Dear Lord and Father of Mankind’, stating that to read and sing the lyric to the hymn, which is concerned with personal submission to God,  regret for rebellion against God and confession of the human tendency to disobedience of God, is to attempt to engage in a reality beyond the everyday but still a part of it, that is to use faith-language to express one’s own personal concerns about lifestyle.  In this hymn there is a concern that if God wants the very best for human beings than we are foolish and wrong to ignore, avoid or disregard God’s will. 

Reid tells us that the individual who might feel very embarrassed about saying the words to the hymn, and expressing such submission and humility, in any other context can, without self-consciousness, embrace the event of joining in the words and of assimilating their meaning in the context of worship due to a sense of appropriate dependence and regression.  Because of this positive aspect of appropriate regression and dependence the words are not considered incongruous with daily living and the individual does not feel a negative tension between the two realities of the daily experience of life and work and the experience of worship.

Reid  (1972: 25) elucidates this concept by using talk of two ‘frames of mind, or ways of experiencing a world.’  He explains these by talking of

“…one of which is oriented towards recognising and dealing with present and future realities in the ‘public’ world, which we have called W-activity, and one which is oriented towards images which may be connected with the public world, but which originates in imagination, ‘in the mind’, which we have called S-activity.  Regression is the process by which S-activity becomes dominant, and W-activity becomes subsidiary or is suppressed altogether.”

Much of Reid’s thinking is based around the worship events of the Christian community as the focal point of the pastoral encounter in the Christian Community.  For Reid all pastoral contact takes place against the background of the worshipping fellowship.  From this fellowship the pastor gains their authority, identity, role and function.  In this is the foundation for all contact between pastor and client.

For Reid the focal point of the adult oscillation process is in the gathering of the community at such events as the Holy Communion, the Eucharist.  At this moment the pastor becomes a facilitator of the community’s engagement with the reality that exists beyond the everyday.  The pastor makes it possible to move to ‘regression’ and because of this an appropriate dependence is fostered, this is more obviously visible in denominations where there is a notion of ‘priesthood’ where the priest is the only one able to ‘preside’ at the sacrament of the Eucharist. Developing this understanding Reid (1974: 32) uses two terms with regards to ‘dependence’ and, though lengthy, the appropriate quote is worth giving in full as he explains,

“We have therefore coined the phrase ‘extra-dependence’ where  ‘extra-’ means ‘outside’, to refer to conditions in which the individual may be inferred to regard himself as dependent upon a person or object other than himself for confirmation, protection and sustenance.  Correspondingly we use the term ‘intra-dependence’…to refer to conditions in which the individual may be inferred to regard his confirmation, protection and sustenance as in his own hands.”

Worship, for Reid, is concerned with allowing the movement from intra- to extra- dependence and back to intra-dependence.  This is the foundation for Christian activity and of pastoral activity in general - in allowing people a safe space to ‘receive’ the unconditional love and support of either God, the pastor or the congregation they can move on to a state of self-reliance and personal strength.  Whilst wary of simply transplanting this model on to individual pastoral relationship the model of ‘safe space’ is one that many modern Christian groups, such as ‘Holy Joe’s’ and  ‘Grace’ in London and the ‘Late Late Service’ in Glasgow are striving to model and to promote.

It must be noted that the priest does not become superior to the congregation in these times of ‘extra-dependence’, she or he remains as part of the community and, through the use of authorises or accepted forms, words, orders of service, takes on a role in common with the people as well as distinct from.  Without a congregation, except in Roman Catholic churches, the Communion cannot occur, and even in Roman Churches the theological justification of ‘The Communion of The Saints’ sets the background at which the priest is able to celebrate the Eucharist alone.

 

Beyond Reid’s theories

If Reid is correct, and the assumption of this study is that his observations are useful and helpful, then it can be inferred that  the pastor gains identity from the community of faith.  Authority and Pastoral power, as mentioned in Chapter 1 above are taken from one’s position in the community or organisation to which the pastor is connected.  Even if an individual exercises an informal pastoral ministry, with people seeking his or her advice due to a belief in the wisdom and compassion of that individual, there would still usually be some recognition by the community (social and/or spiritual) of that individual’s pastoral role.  In Reid’s terms, the pastor enables a community to move to ‘extra-dependence’ and back to ‘inter-dependence’ when the community acknowledges the pastor’s position and role. 

To enable this to happen the pastor seeks to be a part of that community, not apart from it, and they will gain energy from the ongoing encounter with and within that community and will therefore be able to reach out to those beyond the community with compassion and openness.  This places the onus for support of the pastor on the church fellowship, but leaves the pastor in a position where she or he must be a person of honest and integrity, of vulnerability and accountability.  This leads us on to look at the structures of the Church.

God So Loved The World

This is the longer talk I prepared as a favour to a friend. I enjoyed writing this, it's not a great Biblical Exposition, more a lengthy statement about where my faith comes from - by which I mean that it says something about the base level of what I believe....

God So Loved The World

It’s the best known sentence in the best selling book in the world. Travelling around the country you will see it plastered outside Churches, you’ll find it on the sides of buses, in London it is all over the tube system, if you have nothing better to do than stay up late watching American Football there will always be someone who stands up waving a big placard with a the reference to it whenever a touchdown happens or a field goal is scored. It’s there in great big letters ‘John 3.16’ in the NIV it says “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” and in the translation most loved by those who quote it, the King James (or ‘Authorised’) Version it says “ For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”.

For most of us it was probably the first Bible verse we ever memorised, it is so well known that even many non Christians could quote it. It is a statement we take as an essential fact in our Christian faith, the foundation of our understanding of who Jesus was and what God has done for us.

But what does it really mean?

On one level it’s obvious, it means what it says – God loved the world, and he sent his son,– who we know to be Jesus – and his son gives us the way to eternal life. But you wouldn’t expect us to stop there for a Team Evening Worship, so we won’t.

When a Bible verse, or story, or passage is familiar to us we can often lose some of the impact of what it means. We can also be too quick to take it at face value and not allow the depth or the wonder or the strangeness of a particular idea to surprise, challenge or inspire us. I think it’s probably the case with this most well known of Biblical statements. It really is a wonder, an amazing statement of God’s intent for us, and of who Jesus is and what he has done for us. And in order to get to grips a little more with this amazing statement it might help to look at where it comes from, theologically and Biblically.

You’ll find this amazing verse in John’s Gospel, as you know, in Chapter Three. It is part of a conversation between Nicodemus (who ‘came by night’ to talk to Jesus) and Jesus. In fact it is the latter part of the conversation and follows on from some equally amazing statements about being born again and being a part of God’s kingdom – but that’s a talk for another time! The important thing to note is that unlike most of the teaching in our Gospels which is done via story, parable and miracle this is teaching given by Jesus, directly to a member of the ruling Jewish council. This is something worth listening to, I mean REALLY listening to.

The fact that it’s in John makes it part of one of the most beautifully constructed and carefully created books of Theology in our Bibles. In the IVP Dictionary of Biblical Theology it says that ‘The Gospel of John and the Letter to the Romans are the Mount Everests of Biblical Theology’. Whilst Matthew, Mark and Luke share many similarities and overlaps, which is why they are called ‘Synoptics’ – same viewpoint, John stands apart. The commonly accepted dating of John’s Gospel puts it later than the other three books, and indeed probably later than all of the other Biblical books. It probably appeared around the turn of the first century, rather than in the middle. John’s Gospel seems to be very much the product of years of theological reflection, of sharing the stories of Jesus, of prayer, and it is probably the work of a community of early Christians who gathered around the disciple John who gave his name to the Gospel. That extra time gave the author, or authors, a lot more breathing, thinking, praying and writing space. The Greek in which it was originally written is carefully constructed, fluent and poetic. The style in which it is written is much more fluid and careful than some of the other rougher Gospels such as Mark. The aim of John’s Gospel is carefully set out and clearly stated in the very last verse of the last chapter:
Chapter 20. 31 "But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name."

So if John is, in some ways, a pinnacle of theology, and John 3.16 a high point within that, if there is a desire that John is writing that we might believe that Jesus is the Christ then we should take serious notice of what this says.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”

Let’s break this down:

• God loves the world
• God gave his Son
• Whoever believes shall not perish…

All may seem pretty obvious. But lets think about them for a moment. We are told that God loves the world. I think that even the best of us often view this as a kind of given, we take it for granted pretty much. We hear it often, it’s kind of why we do what we do as Christians, because God loves the world, isn’t it?

But that simple statement has so much more behind it. When the Bible talks of God’s relationship to the world it’s not just about God being proud of his work in creation. It’s not that God likes what he’s done and wants to keep any eye on things, keeping his hand in as it were with humanity. God LOVES the world, and for a being whose very nature is love (as the first letter of John says in Chapter 4v16 “God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them.”) For this God, our God, to love the world is to share his very nature with the world, to be involved, to be invested in the world and its well being, and to be involved with the human beings who reflect and mirror his image.

And that leads on to the next part. God sent his one and only Son, his only begotten, the one who his God in human form, sharing the divine nature, being one with the Father. Now it’s a whole series of talks to wrestle with that theology, to consider the Trinitarian nature of God, who is only One God yet is known in human form and shares our human nature. But what I want to highlight here and to focus on now is that in the context of this verse it is part of God’s love for the world that sends His son, part of himself, to share our lives and to draw us back to God.

In those few words ‘that he sent his one and only Son’ we see the summary of God’s love for and involvement in the world. We see a God who refuses to be detached from the pain and suffering of the world, who doesn’t leave us to stew in our sin and to bear the inevitable fatal consequences of sin. We have a God who gets his hands dirty, who is a part of the everyday stuff of life, who by his very nature is part of the world he made. And Jesus, God made man, Immanuel, God with us is the epitome of this. Jesus isn’t sent out like someone being sent off on a mission but is an expression of God and God’s love for us. He is God himself walking among us and is willing to do what it takes to combat sin and its effects on our world.

Which leads us on to seeing again the wonder of the sacrifice made, as it says in our communion services ‘once, for all, upon the cross’ and the wonder of the resurrection where Jesus was restored again to life with God. Every time we repeat ‘God so loved the world that he sent his only begotten Son’ we are not saying that Jesus came on a day trip, or to have a look around. We are saying that he became one of us, that he taught and shared the love of God in word and deed, that he made real the love of God in the everyday, the ordinary, and that he suffered and died in such a way that it changed the very nature of reality. That in his sinless death he took the effects of sin, the wages of sin, upon himself and made it possible for us to live beyond death.

Which leads us on to the last part of this particular verse. “…that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life”. All we have to do to share in God’s great gift of love and life is to accept it. We use the term believe, but it means so much more than ‘think it is true’. If we truly believe in something we give heart and soul to it. If I say I believe, for instance, that so and so is the greatest musician of all time that means not just that I think this is a good idea, but that by my own life and action I align myself with this truth. I give myself to this belief – I try to convince others that this is the case, I listen to their music whenever possible, I go to concerts, I might even buy the t-shirt. OK, it’s a trivial example, but it makes the point. When we say we believe in Jesus it’s not a case of saying that we are in line with the official teaching of the Church on Jesus, or that we understand and accept the theology of incarnation. On the contrary it’s not the understanding that is important, it is the living. The implication of knowing God’s love for the world and knowing that Jesus came into the world to make the love known and to make it real is that it changes our own alignment. We accept the gift of life from Christ and we long to share it with the world.

And there’s more. As well as this particular verse it is important to consider where it comes in the passage… Not just as part of a conversation Jesus has with this learned, important man, but as part of a teaching that calls us to make Jesus known (the Son of Man must be lifted up), and to remind us of God’s attitude to the world.

From this passage we see that God’s attitude is not one where he looks at us with a jaundiced viewpoint, but that he looks at us and loves us. Without going into a detailed blow by blow look at the whole passage I just want to look at the next verse in the passage. If John 3.16 is the most well known in Scripture then perhaps John 3.17 is the most neglected! It’s easy when there is a well known verse to forget what comes next and this next verse serves to enhance what has been said in that wondrous, well known, verse 16. “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn it, but that that the world might be saved through him.”

God’s attitude is always to look at us with love. God is prejudiced! He always prejudges us with grace, forgiveness and mercy… And the purpose of his incarnation in Jesus Christ is not to make us feel bad about ourselves, or to convince us of our evildoing but to reach out to us with Grace. The technical term is ‘Prevenient Grace’ the Grace that goes before us, that meets us where we are.

Jesus came that we might be met by that Grace, that we might be embraced by it, that we might know his life through it. It may convict us of our sin, but only that in order that we can know his love and forgiveness, not to terrify, exclude or indeed condemn us.

And if that is our attitude to faith, that it begins with the love of God, and that God’s love is made real in the form of the Son who was sent into the world, and that God longs for all to share his life then that is a very different starting point than that which much of the Church seems to come from. Rather than criticising the lives or attitudes of others, rather than threatening with hell fire or the wrath of God, rather than using our ‘status’ as God’s beloved children as a way of feeling ‘one up’ on those who don’t believe the things we do, rather than any of this we will begin with love, with a feeling of gratitude for all God has given and done for us and we will long to share that with a world that God loves. We will long to share it with a world that God gives himself to. We will long to share it with a world that God gave himself for.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, so that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

Time for a sermon, again

Proper 24 (2009) Year B RCL Principal

Job 23.1-9,16,17
Hebrews 4.12-16
Mark 10.17-31

The Big Picture

Have you ever seen a sunset so striking that it stops you in your tracks – not literally perhaps as this might not be a good thing when driving! But I have a vivid memory of a sunset which came at one of those moments when I was feeling rather jaded and found myself driving up towards our vicarage when we lived in Eltisley near Cambridge. Of course it’s rather difficult to put into words, but that won’t stop me trying – the Sunset was dramatic, colourful, beautiful – the clouds were gathered in such a way in one part of the sky that they seemed to be pointing to something in the distance, as they changed colour from grey to white, to purple, to red, to orange – there was something quite overwhelming about them.

And on that theme of sunsets, I remember vividly a Sunset on one of the last days of our holiday in France a few years back – it was certainly as beautiful, if not more so and very striking. So much so that Jo (my wife) and I tried to take some pictures of it – knowing that we couldn’t capture the wonder of such a sight, but wanting something to hold on to the memory with.

I only bring this up because we had a trawl through our vast collection of photos a few weeks back, and when we had the film of that sunset which we had been desperate to capture developed – knowing that the photos would be inadequate to sum up that evening, we were even more disappointed to discover that we had put a black and white film in the camera and all of our holiday shots, including the sunset, were monochrome – they didn’t even begin to offer any idea of how that Sunset had thrilled and impressed us.

I mention this because it seems to me that, like a black and white photo of a beautiful colourful sunset, our picture of God is often woefully inadequate – not even beginning to measure up to the reality of God, the splendour and awe of our God or the many shades and nuances of God which we glimpse in scripture and through the history and teaching of the Church. Nor can we grasp the difficulties and depths of holding fast to God through any event until we really experience.

It is such a limited understanding of God that can cause us to question what God does – and why. I encounter many people who ask ‘why did God do this to me’ or ‘why does God let x or y happen?’ when the only answer is that God doesn’t manipulate our lives like a divine chess player and when he does act it is often to remind us of his love and presence in both the joys and acts only for our best when he does.

This understanding of God, one in which God is shown to be manipulative, punitive and even capricious, is one which seems to echo through the story of Job, this story of is prefaced by a discussion, which was one of our readings last week, between God and the devil in which Satan is offered leave to test Job and see if he will remain faithful through adversity. What you may not know is that the preface is probably a later addition to the story of Job – an attempt to make sense of Job’s experience for the later readers of the piece. The original story has no reason for Job’s trials and no happy ending.

In many ways thinking of the story of Job without the easy to understand beginning is a more honest way of approaching the reality of suffering – the original writer of this ‘parable of suffering’ (for there is no indication that this is meant to be seen as a relating to real events, but a kind of fable to consider the difficulties of suffering, and why the righteous seem to suffer as much as the ungodly) – wanted us just to consider the mystery of suffering, and that no matter what the faithful go through they can retain their faith in God – as Job does.

But our later interpretive extras have taken the mystery, the struggle, out of the story, and they have limited its perspective. To a certain extent they have attempted to take the mystery away from God. We are determined to find reason in everything, questioning God and demanding from God answers. It is as if we are trying to sum up a sunset in black and white photographs. Job resists this, honest about his pain and his distress he does not try to explain it away, or give easy answers. Instead in today’s reading he is honest about the mystery of God and about his own struggle with all that he has gone through. He acknowledges however the limit of his ability to understand, and doesn’t try to force his view of God into some kind of pre-decided way of looking at things.

How often do we try and contain God – expecting God to be a certain thing, trapping God in our images and stereotypes and claiming that this or that is what God would want. People use their own version of what God is like to justify all sorts of activity and behaviour, and often miss the challenge contained in Scripture that reminds us that we are made in the image of God, yet we are so ready to make God in our own image…

And so we are reminded today not to limit God by expecting God to fit into understanding, or to even expect to be able to know the mind of God. We are reminded that to even know the little we do of God is a great privilege and a responsibility – a privilege because, as we were reminded in last week’s lessons – ‘ what are mere mortals that you are mindful of us’ and a responsibility because our calling as Christians is to spread the knowledge of God, to proclaim the ‘Good News’ of a God who loves us and who gives us of himself and cares for us.

So instead of demanding from God – demanding answers, demanding reasons, demanding justification, demanding that things stay the same, that we have comfortable lives, demanding things our way – we are called to consider again what God demands of us…

And our Gospel for today brings that home to us. Here we have another well known passage from the Gospel of St Mark we see Jesus challenging a rich young man as to his attitude to his wealth. I don’t believe (and some of us have heard me say this before) that Jesus is making a blanket condemnation of the wealthy, but he knows that for this one young man, who is seeking God, his wealth is a barrier to truly knowing and following the living God. Jesus explains that God is not know in religious observation, or even in devotion to the scriptures and to the principles of faith. Jesus explains that God is known in the heart.

I have talked with many people about faith, and been asked many times why I stay with faith. Those with intellects considerably greater than my own have rejected Christian faith on the grounds that nothing can be proved. My only response is that I am not simply concerned with knowing about God, I want to know God. To know God as my father and creator. I don’t want to know about the theology of who and what Jesus was and is, but I want to know Jesus. To know him as my saviour and my friend. I don’t want to know about the Holy Spirit but I long to know the Holy Spirit and the power of the Spirit at work in me, changing me and making me more like Christ.

This is the demand made of us, not that we decide what God is like, an inadequate black and white sunset picture of God, but that we open ourselves up to a God who longs to know us and to change us.

And the demands on all of us are the same – if we ask to know God we should beware of what that might mean. If we truly want to know God we should be prepared to have our world changed. If we truly seek to follow Christ then we should be prepared to give all we have to follow him. If we are truly open to the prompting of God’s Holy Spirit, then we should be ready to embrace the mystery of God, and to be led into new places as we explore that mystery.

We cannot continually ask of God, without expecting God to ask something of us. Perhaps we need to consider that which prevents us from truly following God, perhaps we need to see our faith in a new way, perhaps we simply need to sit down and read our scriptures to see again the God who is there and who longs for us to know him. Then we will embrace that mystery and be drawn on to be more like our saviour Jesus Christ. May God grant us grace that it might be so. Amen.

I believe, part 4

As we continue our Marathon trek through the Creed (well, it feels like a marathon to me!) here is the next part... I know that there are a few sentences that didn't quite make it to the standard of making sense that I would prefer, but unfortunately I am not awake enough to correct and want to post this before bed :-)

Lent 2009: The Apostle’s Creed

Session 4

I believe in Jesus part 2

I want to begin tonight’s thoughts by restating a couple of things which I perhaps didn’t make completely clear last week. I have spent some time thinking about the nature of these evenings and some of the discussions that have come both as part of the sessions and around after the event too!

At the beginning of these talks on the Creed I said that I wasn’t going engage in a purely academic exercise, nor was I going to take apart all the bits of the Creed and dismiss them – on the contrary I think I would restate that I wholeheartedly believe in all of the articles which make up our Creed and hope that these talks would assist you in feeling more confident in proclaiming these truths also. In particular, I want to say that when last week I said I wasn’t going to discuss the ‘Virgin Birth’ as I thought it was a red herring, I didn’t mean that I didn’t believe in it and didn’t want to talk about it, I wholeheartedly affirm it. My concern is that (like discussions over a six day creation) discussions about the mechanics of how this or that might have happened are often a distraction. My belief in the humanity and divinity of Jesus Christ, which is founded in Jesus taking flesh from the Virgin Mary and by the power of the Spirit is at the heart of my own understanding of the Incarnation.

What I am hoping to do is highlight both how some of these articles of faith ended up in the Creed, and to ask ourselves exactly what we mean, and what those who put together the Creed meant, when these things are and were recited over many hundreds of years. The Creed is not the end of faith, nor is it meant to be recited parrot fashion without addressing the serious, foundational beliefs of which it is comprised. It is easy to drift, or ‘freewheel’ through faith, accepting what might be the accepted interpretation of a particular minister, writer, or tradition within the Church, without grappling with the truths both behind our Creeds and within our Scriptures.

Some of the ideas and concepts which make up our Creeds are, frankly, immense – including this Evening’s theme – and we risk missing out on some of the riches of our tradition, of the depths of Scripture, and of a very personal faith, if we skirt over the issues and teachings contained in them. In the three weeks we have already spent on these Creeds I have only just scratched the surface of our Christian faith, tradition and interpretation, and I know that some of the things I have said have been surprising – but this is the faith of the Church, and together we claim to hold this faith, so lets get to grips with what we profess and proclaim.

This evening’s thoughts are based around this profound, disturbing and challenging part of the Apostle’s Creed – talking of Jesus we affirm that we believe he:

suffered under Pontius Pilate,

was crucified, died, and was buried;

he descended to the dead.

On the third day he rose again;

he ascended into heaven,

he is seated at the right hand of the Father,

and he will come to judge the living and the dead.

There are some phrases in this section I will tackle at greater, some at lesser, length. Much of this overlaps with what I said last week, and much of it overlaps with itself, it is difficult to disentangle much of the Creed from itself – to be honest – and I hope that what I say won’t be so much as telling you what you have to believe, though there are some essentials that I think are core to calling ourselves Christians, but offering you different interpretations of what Christian thinkers and teachers have said over many years with regards to these core understandings of Christian faith.

But I must take a moment to say something very personal here. If last week was the reason I was inspired to lead this series of talk, this week is probably the hardest of all the sections for me to talk on, mainly because I can’t claim to have all of this sorted out for myself, and I am very much in the midst of my own journey of faith, my own struggles with Scripture and Reason and Tradition and Experience in my own life in Christ. It would be easier perhaps if I could say ‘this is what the Bible teaches’ or even ‘this is what the Church says’ but our Creeds bind us with the essentials of faith – the interpretation is something we all must struggle with for ourselves.

The first part of the Creed considered today is easy in theological terms, but hard in personal terms! We talk of Christ who ‘suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried’. This suffering is real – and I think it is important to say this. The agony that Jesus went through in the lead up and over his crucifixion cannot be underestimated – nor can we explain it away by saying ‘It’s OK, he was God’ or that he knew he would be resurrected. As I said last week, and as has been very much the point of Christian scholarship for two thousand years, Jesus was human, not God in a human suit. When it came to the scourging, the agony of his passion, and to being nailed to the cross and dying this was real, all too real, and painful beyond endurance. The sense of desolation and agony was enough for him to cry out ‘My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?’

And without going over all the ground we covered last week, its worth reminding ourselves that at heart the death that Jesus suffered isn’t a theory, or a theology, or a statement of belief – it is God’s ultimate identification with us. If God in trinity feels through eternity what Jesus felt on the cross, God knows what suffering is, and knows what it is to die. In Christ, God truly is one of us and the Creed writers wanted to make that clear by saying that he suffered, not that he seemed to suffer or appeared to suffer, but suffered. At the same time they wanted to locate that in a real, physical, tangible time and place in order that it didn’t become just a theory or doctrine but that Jesus ‘suffered under Pontius Pilate’ – it was real, it happened.

Then we have what for many is the key issue in this part of the Creed.

Was crucified, died and was buried.

Again, a desire to keep the reality of these events at the heart of faith. Jesus actually died, and because of that he was buried. No tricks, no body snatching, but the everyday reality of death. And behind it the pain and the loss that his friends, family and disciples suffered – as we will hear in the passion stories in the coming weeks.

Interestingly there is no mention of ‘what happened’ on the cross. In this key document of the Church it doesn’t say he died for our sins, or that his death took our sins away, or that he was a sacrifice for our sin. These are interpretations of the death of Christ that come from Scripture and from the theologians of the Church over the past twenty centuries. The Creed just wants to make it clear that he died, and leaves us to – with the help of our Bibles and the tradition and teaching of the Church – make sense of this.

And this is where I have been struggling over this past week, or indeed over the past few decades of my Christian life. It’s also something that I think many of us don’t think about perhaps as much as we should – what happened on the cross and why did Jesus have to die.

I think that this is a good spot to stop for a breather and to talk to one another. I am aware that this week is very much more about me talking – but there is a lot to get through – but I realise you need a break from that! So I want you to talk to each other about what your own response to that question ‘why did Jesus have to die?’ might be – and I don’t want you to feel concerned that I am going to correct your belief, I am going to lay out some of what the Church has said, and hopefully reflect that through Scripture – but it would be presumptuous of me to claim I have sorted this out and have all the answers for you. It would also be wrong. So share what you feel, please.

It is easy, or perhaps more accurately ‘an oversimplification’ just to say that Jesus ‘died for our sins’. Though I believe that to be true, and many of us would describe his death in that way, there are many ways in which that simple statement could be construed. I think it is important to open this out a bit, though I can’t really do justice to it in the time we have here or perhaps even in a lifetime, because what we believe happened on the Cross also affects our view of God and of the salvation we as Christians believe Jesus somehow won through his death.

The word that we use to sum up this teaching is ‘Atonement’ – commonly taken to mean ‘making up for something’ – that Jesus somehow made up for the sins of the world in dying for us. I prefer to consider ‘Atonement’ by dividing up the word ‘At-one-ment’. Somehow through his death Jesus broke down the barriers or bridged the Gap between God and human beings. A barrier or a divide caused by sin, which brings death into the world. But how might this have happened, what did Jesus dying actually achieve?

I looked up a number of sources to try and offer some definition of the various theologies which surround the death of Jesus – and must acknowledge that I used a particular website – not one I was completely impressed by but one which had a broad approach to these issues – called ‘religioustolerance.org’ to get hold of some definitions, they say that, on the whole the current accepted theories can be grouped into certain definitions:

First, Ransom Theory, mainly held by Eastern Orthodox Churches and what is known as the Protestant Word-faith Movement. This is perhaps the oldest theory of the Atonement, and if arguments about theology and belief were settled just by how old they are this would be the winner!

Ransom theory says that sin brought a debt into the world, which was payable by death. This debt was a result of Adam & Eve’s disobedience and meant that Satan aquired formal dominion over, and ownership of , all of humanity and the rest of the world. So that all might be freed from this ownership God offers his only Son Jesus as a ransom to ‘buy back’ humanity and Satan agrees believing that he would then ‘own’ the Son of God, Jesus. God pulls a fast one, though, and having thought he had won, Satan is defeated as Jesus is brought back from death and raised to eternal life with the Father. Therefore, says Origen, one of the early Church theologians, if humans trust Jesus as their saviour, they too share in this new life.

Next is a theory which is broadly held by the Roman Catholic Church (though not officially accepted as 'dogma') and is called Satisfaction Theory. This finds its roots in ancient and mediaeval thinking about serfdom. A serf or slave owned by a master is the cause of dishonour to that master if s/he disobeys them. In this way sin dishonours God and a price must be paid to satisfy honour. In this atonement theory Jesus, through his offering of himself, his torture and his death satisfies the requirement and, effectively, through a human sacrifice he appeases God’s sense of honour which has been offended by sin. It is similar to the ransom theory, only that the price is paid to God rather than Satan.

As it says on ReligiousTolerance.org

The theory suggests that God's honour would only be satisfied by a ritual sacrifice of a god-man -- his own son. Michael Martin writes: "Only the God-Man is able, by his divinity, to offer something that is worthy of God and, by his humanity, to represent mankind."

Now we move onto a theory that many of us will recognise, and perhaps adhere to, as it is the theology often held by those who would refer to themselves as ‘Reformed’, and by fundamentalist groups, and some main stream protestant denominations it is known as Penal Substitution Theory and is a variation on Satisfaction Theory

Again I will quote the religious tolerance website

In the Penal Theory, the effect of human sin is not seen as dishonouring God. Rather it is perceived as incurring a debt to God which requires repayment. "...a debt is incurred and punishment is deserved." God is viewed as holy and perfect. He established an impossibly high standard of holiness and perfection for humanity. When we fail to live up to that standard, a sin debt to God is created. Such sin inevitably happens; all have fallen short.

The punishment for sin must involve the shedding of blood. In the Hebrew Scriptures (Old Testament), this was the ritual sacrifice of animals; in the Christian Scriptures (New Testament) it involves the ritual sacrifice of a human -- Jesus. God is apparently unwilling or incapable of forgiving sin in any other way.

Anselm of Canterbury, a great Christian Scholar from the 11th and early 12th Century wrote:

"...without satisfaction, that is, without voluntary payment of the debt, God can neither pass by the sin unpunished, nor can the sinner attain that happiness”

Another theory, held by many more Liberal Christians is known as Moral Theory. This theory suggests that Jesus Christ's life and death is primarily a moral example to humanity. It can inspire us to lift ourselves out of sin and grow towards union with God.

Rejecting any sense of ‘payment’ to Satan or God – either because of a need to punish sin, buy back humanity or satisfy honour, the moral theory teaches that atonement is achieved by Jesus example of self-giving love and sacrifice. This provides for us an example and inspiration to seek wholeness and to leave our sin behind. The focus of the Atonement is not Satan or God instead it is the individual Christian believer seeking wholeness.

Finally, there is what is often called the Christus Victor Theory or a recent variation which I found recently called the ‘narrative Christus Victor theory’. The Essay which I recently read on this subject is very good and can be found online at http://www.crosscurrents.org/weaver0701.htm – discussing all of the theories of Atonement I have just looked through and answering them with an alternative. In this understanding Jesus voluntarily allowed himself to be executed not to satisfy a God who demanded it or to fool the devil, but because his death defeated the power of evil and released humanity from its sin. The death of Jesus is the result of evil forces, as epitomised by the religious leaders and occupying forces of Jesus day, and shows the response of evil to the purity of purpose and action which Christ had. In this understanding Jesus actively defeats evil by his non resistance when confronted by evil men (and women perhaps) and by offering his own life. God rewards this offering by raising Jesus to new life, and Jesus becomes the one through which all can share in this new way of being – the Kingdom, or more accurately, the reign of God.

Second discussion – do any of these help you? Are there any that you particularly react to – either positively or negatively?

Having thrown these various theological theories at you, all of which have currency within the Church today and departure from which can cause someone to be cast out of some Church circles! For instance, just a few years back the Baptist minister and broadcaster Steve Chalke mentioned in a very good book he wrote called ‘The Lost Message of Jesus’ that penal substitution might not be the only way we could look at the death of Jesus and was vilified within many of the groups he used to represent and relate to. It was as if Scripture had put the one way of understanding Jesus death nice and clearly and Chalke was completely heretical to even consider there might be an alternative.

But the Bible doesn’t give us any simple answers to this. It presents a variety of views all mixed up together and makes us come to terms with them ourselves.

I know that some of you will want to have an idea of my own take on this issue, which I why I began by saying that I don’t have it all sewn up. I do have my own personal understanding, but it is not set in stone – as my own reading of Scripture, my growth in knowledge and experience and use of reason lead me to new understandings I may well say something different in a few years, or even days!

I do believe that sin has an effect on God’s creation – a vast, cosmic effect. And that it damages men and women - Romans 6:23: "For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.". The result of sin is, ultimately, death.

I believe that Jesus took upon himself that death which is the result of sin. In this sense he ‘paid the price’ – I don’t, though, subscribe to the idea that God punished Jesus on our behalf. For me the defining statement about God is found in the first letter of John 4.16 ‘Those who do not love do not know God, for God is love.’

It’s not ‘God is loving’ but God is Love. If that is the ultimate statement about the nature of God, which I believe it to be then I find this inconsistent with a punitive or vengeful God. Therefore I believe that Jesus took the consequence of Sin, and indeed the consenquence of a Godly life live in the face of evil, and his death on the cross removed from us the ultimate consequence of sin.

But this idea, like me generally, is a work in progress.

Now I am conscious of the fact that we have gone back to the idea of talking about one or two words in our Creed and there is much more to take in and to consider in the few lines we have this week. And I would like to attempt to look at these too. I spent so long on the doctrine of Atonement because I think it informs for each of us the way that we perceive God – if we take one view or another then we are likely to see God as forgiving, or wrathful, or pure, or angry or whatever. In common with much of our faith I think the healthy belief is the one which can encompass more than one idea and hold it together, sometimes in tension and is willing to continue to wrestle with the issues involved in a ‘true and lively faith’.

And I will acknowledge that my wrestling hasn’t really come to terms with this phrase ‘he descended to the dead’ – for some it is just a fanciful way to say he died, but I think it is there for a reason and some talk of the harrowing of hell – that Jesus preached salvation to those who were imprisoned in hell because they had not heard of him and offered them his new life. I am not sure about that, but it is important to acknowledge that even back in the fourth century, indeed at the beginning of the Church’s life, Christians were struggling with the question ‘if faith comes from hearing, what about those who have never heard?’ I leave that one with you for now….

So we continue through these lines with this amazing and rather mind-blowing concept of resurrection. Of Christ being brought from the dead, of Christ being alive even today! Present with us through his Spirit and ascended to the right hand of God where he lives and reigns for eternity.

One of the things I find rather difficult about the Alpha course is that (like me this evening) it tends to focus very much on the death of Jesus and what he did on the cross. It wants the hearer to have a conviction of sin and to recognise the price paid – though it may have something more of a penal substitution theology than I would hold to!

We do need to remember, though, that in essence it is not the cross that defines us as Christians but the empty cross! It is the empty tomb that brings about our shout of alleluia! (not that I am meant to say that in Lent). I can’t remember where it comes from but I love the quote that defines Christians thus

“We are an Easter People and Alleluia is our song”

In the new life God gives to Christ we see the acceptance of Christ’s offering of himself, and the triumph of love over judgement, of grace and mercy over death and hell.

The resurrection tells us that death is not the end. It shows God’s embrace of the work of Jesus and his blessing on all people.

Through the death and resurrection of Jesus we have a hope of new life, of life forever in the presence of God – not just a life beyond death, Jesus’ new life can bring about a fullness of life that he mentions in John 10v10 – it show’s that God has accepted the life Jesus led as well as the death Jesus died.

The resurrection is the moment that defines a new order in the cosmos – of the defeat of our ultimate enemy, sin and the death it brings. This has changed the very being and nature of creation and we now live in a time which contains all the promise and potential that Christ’s fullness of life offers.

I haven’t gone into details about how the resurrection happened, or at least theological debates about the resurrection, in the same way that I didn’t want to venture into the discussions about the Virgin Birth or a six day creation – we can quickly become bogged down in the mechanics of it. I do think it is important, though, and the Biblical record is clear that Jesus came back in some way bodily, not as a ghost, he was able to eat with his friends, to touch them – yet at the same time was seen to appear and disappear in a way no one could comprehend. I believe Jesus rose bodily, but that he had a resurrection body, St Paul seems to say that Jesus is the prototype resurrection body that one day we will all share. How God might do that is beyond me, and beyond most comprehension, but I believe that he will.

And at the end of forty days, says the account in the Acts of the Apostles, Jesus ascended, taken into heaven to be with the Father, to take his place in the trinity. I will be preaching on this in about fifty five days at our Communion Service for Ascension day at Shute on May 14th – so I won’t say too much now, but I do believe it is important not to take this too literally in a sense, as those who related this story and wrote it down would have had a view of God up there in heaven, of earth here and of sheol below. We know the earth is a sphere, that above is an atmosphereless void filled with stars, planets and more than we can ever imagine. We no longer believe God lives above the clouds but that he lives over and beyond this world in which we live, beyond time and space. What is important, though, is that Jesus goes to be with God, taking his place as ruler of all and within the dynamic of the Holy Trinity (about which there will be more next week).

This leads on to the issue of Jesus’ return, which again I don’t think I can do justice to in the few moments we have left. I will say that this anticipation of perfection, of Jesus coming back one day, should not divert us from fulfilling our calling to be a part of God’s kingdom coming here on earth. We are called to make real the life of Christ in this world and not to be distracted by being ‘so heavenly minded as to be of no earthly use’. Our Christian faith is in a living active Christ who is with us now, who by his Spirit changes and transforms us that we may share his life and light in the world. One day he will come, we don’t know when, but until then we work for the transformation of the world through our words, prayers and deeds.

And on a final note I want to mention judgement.

There is a common idea that the judgement of God will involve us all being lined up and the book of our life will be opened and we will get a ticking off for all the bad things we have done before we get into heaven.

This is tied up, I think, with a very Roman and Western way of considering judgement, just as Pilate took his place at the judgement seat to condemn Jesus. In the Old Testament a judge proclaimed God’s will, and the values of God’s way of doing things. A judge wasn’t someone who weighed up the evidence and pronounced for or against, but who spoke up for, who was an advocate, who sought truth, restoration, a new state of being. It was a model of judgement that was concerned with reconciliation and restitution rather than punishment.

I believe Christ is our judge, who judges for us, who seeks to bring out the best in us, restores wholeness from our brokenness, and opens up the possibility for reconciliation with God for all eternity.

And on that note I will leave it. may God continue to find us eager to serve and open to the touch of his love that we may be more like Christ, day by day. Amen.