‘Fatherhood’ 18th June, 1st Sunday after Trinity

Based around Romans 5:1-8 and Matthew 9:35-10:23

 

“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be your name.”

These are the opening words to the prayer with which we and many millions of others are so familiar. We call God our Father and as today is Father’s Day it seemed to me entirely appropriate that we should consider and celebrate fathers and father figures because they are important to us.

Having decided on the theme for this sermon I thought I ought to do a bit of research. Somewhere at the back of my mind I seemed to remember hearing that Father’s Day was a fairly recent invention which came about in order to mirror the fact that we celebrate mothers on Mother’s Day and a more cynical view is that it was dreamed up by the retail industry who wanted to sell us yet more cards and gifts and stuff. Without wishing to actually be cynical, I’m pretty sure there is an element of both involved.

Imagine my pleasant surprise then when I learned that in the Catholic parts of Europe Father’s Day has been celebrated since the 14th or early 15th century, usually on the 19th March which is St Joseph’s Day and it is now celebrated in many countries throughout the world although not necessarily on that date. Marking it on the third Sunday in June seems to have come from the United States when the tradition was established in the early twentieth century.

According to what I read, and this is a very concise history, the first recorded modern observance of a Father’s Day was in 1908 in Fairmont, West Virginia and was the idea of Grace Golden Clayton whose father had been killed in a terrible mining accident the previous year along with 360 other men. Apparently 250 of these men were fathers and their loss left around a thousand children fatherless. Imagine the impact this must have had on the community as well on the individual families concerned. Ms Clayton suggested that her pastor, Robert Webb, of what is now the Central Methodist Church, honour these fathers but this seemed to have been a one off event at that time. The next few years saw numerous attempts to establish Father’s Day as a regular celebration but for various reasons it didn’t work out. After this somewhat faltering start it seems it was another woman, Sonora Smart Dodd who after hearing a sermon about Mother’s Day suggested to her pastor that fathers should be honoured in a similar way. Her father, a veteran of the Civil War, had brought up his own six children without a mother. As a result, it was in 1910 that a number of local clergymen throughout Spokane in Washington, preached sermons honouring fathers. Again though the observance was local and not regular. Over the next four decades there were attempts to get Father’s Day established as a permanent national holiday but they met with resistance from Congress. Apparently there was a good deal of cynicism about the motives of the trade groups who were helping to promote the idea of a father’s day but in 1957, Senator Margaret Chase Smith accused Congress of ignoring fathers for forty years while celebrating the role of mothers and in 1966 President Johnson issued the first presidential proclamation honouring fathers and set the third Sunday in June as the date to mark it. Finally it was President Nixon who in 1972 signed this into law as a permanent national holiday. We seem to have followed the same tradition and I for one am very glad that we do honour and celebrate the role of fatherhood as well as motherhood and in the broadest senses of these terms.

Going back to the idea of St Joseph being associated with the first celebrations of fatherhood, I can’t think of anyone more appropriate as a figurehead. He epitomises the good qualities we associate with being a good father: protector, provider, nurturer, teacher, and encourager to name but a few. I also think he is a great example because in Jesus case, he was not actually his biological father and yet he loved him and brought him up as his own son. He could have turned his back and walked away but he didn’t. He could have boasted and made much of his role in Jesus life but we certainly don’t hear anything like that in the Bible. He was an honourable, kind, modest and faithful man who was content to play the part God had given him in spite of what others may have thought of him. God chose well when he chose Joseph.

It always seems a shame to me that the men who day by day, quietly go about the business of being good, reliable, dependable father figures don’t always get the credit they deserve because fatherhood like motherhood isn’t always glamorous and fun. Sometimes it’s hard and frustrating and even painful and heart breaking and there’s a fair amount of self-sacrifice involved. All the more reason why the value of good fathers and father figures should never be underestimated. They are sharers in the shaping of the next generation and their influence is great and lasting so it needs to be good. We all need good male as well as female role models if we are to be balanced, compassionate and loving human beings. I am aware that unfortunately not everyone is blessed with having a good father and that there are damaging and destructive relationships that cause a great deal of lasting harm. But surely that is all the more reason to value, encourage and celebrate the good ones and hopefully there will be good father figures somewhere along the line for all of us. They don’t have to be perfect, none of us are.

Sadly my own dad died nearly ten years ago. I still miss him. But because he was a good father he left me with many things that have enabled me to go on making my way through life, able to appreciate the good and deal with the not so good. We used to work together and in many ways we were kindred spirits. We could inspire and encourage each other and keep each other going when things were difficult which they often were. I could talk to him about pretty much anything, we didn’t always agree but in the end there was always respect, understanding and kindness. But as with all of us there were things I kept to myself. I’m sure we all have thoughts and feelings at times that we are not proud of and wouldn’t want anyone else to know about fearing that they would think badly of us or reject us if they knew.

But with our Heavenly Father it is different. To Him we are completely known and in spite of all our faults and failings we are loved anyway. I don’t know about you but I find this knowledge very liberating. God is the only one I can say and confide anything to, confident that I will not be misunderstood and not being misunderstood matters so very much. How many of our problems in life, in society and in the wider world stem from misunderstandings and an unwillingness to forgive human imperfections and failings? How comforting to know that God sees beyond what we see and that his judgement is not the same as ours.

I recently re-read Psalm 139 and I think it expresses this close relationship with God far better than I can. Here are just a few of the verses and I hope they speak to you as they do to me.

“O Lord, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord you know it completely.

Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend into heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there. If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me and your right hand shall hold me fast.

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my thoughts. See if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”

Here’s to good fathers on earth and in Heaven. Let us value and celebrate them and let them know how much they mean to us. I think we all like to know that we are valued and loved.

 

Reader Kath Boyd

‘St Patrick’ – 11th June, Trinity Sunday

Today is Trinity Sunday – when we celebrate the Holy Trinity.  Tonight, I don’t intend to preach on the readings, but want to think a while about this enduring mystery.

There is a rather nice cartoon on Youtube in which St Patrick attempts to explain the Trinity to a couple of local farmers he meets.  He makes various attempts to explain the Trinity with examples – like a three leaf clover, water existing as water, ice and steam, a man being a father, a brother and a son…all of which are (correctly) shot down by the two not so dim farmers, who go so far as to mention exactly which heresy Patrick is stating.

Eventually, Patrick loses it, and recites the statement on the Trinity from the creed.  After a few seconds of digesting it, the farmers simply say “Patrick, why didn’t you just say that in the first place”

I think those farmers are right.  Sometimes we overthink things.

The Trinity is mysterious; it should be. The Medieval theologian Meister Eckhart said :

“Thou canst understand nought about God, for He is above all understanding. A master saith: If I had a God whom I could understand, I would never hold Him to be God.”

We can’t understand our God completely. So, what do we understand when we talk about the Trinity?

There is one God who eternally exists as three distinct Persons — the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This is often stated as ‘God is one in essence but three in person.’

In the Bible, we have a number of examples of God being three in person – we read of the Father as God, Jesus as God, and the Holy Spirit as God.  And at Jesus’s baptism we get a wonderful demonstration – Jesus is baptised, the Holy Spirit descends upon him in the form of a dove and the Father in Heaven says ‘This is my son in whom I am well pleased.’  And the Holy Spirit is a ‘person’ as well – not some sort of mystical ‘Force’ like in Star Wars.

Just think how our Christian life starts – or how I started tonight’s sermon.  We’re baptised in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit – not just in Jesus’s name, or in the name of the Father.

Each person is fully God; we’re not talking about the persons being a third of God each – each of Father, Son and Holy Spirit is God entire.

And there is one God – we are told this numerous times in scripture.

Now, I have to admit that this does all sound rather strange to us mere mortals living in a three dimensional world where we’re used to things being distinct and separated.

Theologian and apologist Norman Geisler explains it this way; while essence is what you are, person is who you are.  So God is one “what” but three “who’s.

The three ‘whos’ are quite capable of referring to themselves as ‘I’ and the other two as ‘You’.  And so we can have relationships between the three persons within the trinity. The Trinity is thus not a splitting of God’s essence or being in to three separate parts; it’s described as an ‘unfolding’ of God’s single essence in to these relationships.

And that was one thing that the early theologians agreed upon; that what was important wasn’t the gender or exact nature of the three persons of the Trinity, but the relationships between them.

Do the persons have ‘jobs’?

We often hear people says that ‘The Holy Spirit is working through them’. The pattern of our prayer is to pray to the Father through the Son and in the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit is that which moved over the water in Genesis in the act of creation.  We might think that, therefore, Father, Son and Holy Spirit has some sort of skill set special to them.  But that’s not so – of single essence, and being totally God, whatever one person of the Trinity is involved in in our lives, the others will be involved with too.

It’s been said that the Father is the Infinite one, Jesus is the Imminent – coming in to being with us – one and the Holy Spirit the Intimate person of the Trinity; of course, there is also intimacy and infinity in the person of Jesus, and a sense of imminence and intimacy in the Father, and so on.

God is not only more complicated than we imagine Him to be; He is more complicated than we CAN imagine Him to be!

However, it’s fortunate that we don’t have to be able to fully understand God for us to be in a relationship with him.  And that’s what I’d like to think about now – how our relationship with God, how we worship Him, how His love for us is manifested – is intimately linked in with the Trinity.

It’s often said that the Bible is the story of God’s relationship with human beings; in the Old Testament, with the people of Israel, and in the New Testament we see that relationship expanded to all peoples.

But for us, our own Christian belief is about our relationship with God; and with the Trinity that can get quite complicated!

Franciscan priest and writer Richard Rohr suggests that the perceived roles and functions of the persons in the Trinity are not that important; what matters is the relationships between them, and, as we are in a relationship with God, we’re also intimately involved in the relationships between the persons of the Trinity.  Which, you must admit, is pretty special.

In his book ‘The Divine Dance’, Rohr suggests that we might like to reflect on the Trinity when we cross ourselves, rather than just allowing the act of crossing ourselves to become a ritual without thought or prayer.

At the head, home of our mind and source of all our intentions and actions, he suggests we honour the person of the Father; as we move down to our chest, over our hearts, reflect on the person of the Son – the fleshy incarnation of the Trinity. And finally, sweeping from shoulder to shoulder, reflect on the Holy Spirit

And finally tonight – one of Rohr’s prayers:

 

God for us, we call you Father.

God alongside us, we call you Jesus.

God within us, we call you Holy Spirit.

You are the eternal mystery that enables, enfolds, and enlivens all things,

Even us and even me.

 

Every name falls short of your goodness and greatness.

We can only see you in what is.

We ask for such perfect seeing—

As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be.

Amen.

 

Reader Joe Pritchard

‘The Ascension’ – 28th May, 7th Sunday of Easter

How important is Ascension Day?  My secondary school in Coventry felt that it was important enough to hold an evening service in one of the city’s bigger churches, which all staff and students (plus parents) were supposed to attend.  I hadn’t a clue why, and I resented going (although one year I had to read a prayer and so got the afternoon off school for a rehearsal).  I didn’t understand the significance of the occasion.  And they can’t have done a very good job of explaining it either, because at that stage I couldn’t even have told you which Bible story it related to.  So much for going to a church school!

I’m guessing that most, if not all of us here today can probably link the occasion with the Bible story.  But perhaps we still don’t really understand its significance.  Because actually the Ascension was a central and pivotal point in the Christian story.

Did you know that the Acts of the Apostles is actually a sequel?  And that at the beginning of Acts, we’re only half way through the story?  Acts was written by the author of Luke’s gospel, the second volume of a 2-part work.

Because our gospels all finish with the crucifixion and resurrection, there’s a tendency to think that the story finishes there.  What we don’t realise is that we’re only half way through!  Luke is the only evangelist to tell us what happened next.

In his first volume, Luke tells the story of Jesus beginning with his birth, then his ministry, and climaxing with his crucifixion and resurrection.  The first chapter of Acts is a prologue to the sequel – the coming of the Holy Spirit and the birth of the Christian Church.  The prologue gives a brief summary of Jesus’ ministry and resurrection appearances, then today’s account of the Ascension.

Today’s story is the culmination of the first part of the drama and points the way to the second.  It’s a pivotal point in the whole story.  It’s one of those strange biblical episodes, which in today’s world, we can struggle to explain, particularly if we take it literally.  What exactly happened?

What exactly happened is probably less important than why it happened.  Jesus and the remaining 11 disciples have gone up Mount Olivet, not far from Jerusalem.  The disciples know that this is a significant event.  Mountain top experiences always are.  They’re when one gets a glimpse of God’s majesty, however fleeting.  We think of Moses receiving the Law on Mount Sinaii, or Jesus’ transfiguration.  But the disciples think that now is the time when Jesus will restore the kingdom to Israel.  You can understand their logic.  After all, Jesus has been going on about the coming of the kingdom ever since they started following him!

Jesus tells them that the how and when of the kingdom are for God alone to know.  But then he tells them that they will be filled with the Holy Spirit.  And they will become his witnesses first in Jerusalem, then in Judaea and Samaria, and then to the ends of the earth.

Then he’s taken from them.  The discples are caught up in the experience and continue to look heavenwards.  But, a bit like with the women at the tomb on Easter morning, they are brought back to earth by two men in white.  Why are you looking heavenwards?  Jesus will come in the same way as you saw him go.

So it’s time to come down from the mountain.  The eleven return to Jerusalem, to the upper room where they’d been staying.  They rejoin their wider group, which Luke notes, includes women and members of Jesus’ family.

The disciples have reached a turning point.  Their time with Jesus physically present with them is over.  They’ve had 40 extra, wonderful days of him, something they couldn’t have imagined on Good Friday.  And now he must leave them in body and they must continue without his physical presence.  He has brought them to the cusp of adulthood.  It is time to leave the nest.  Something new is about to happen.  They’re not quite sure what.  It’s a time of anticipation.  A time of preparation.

The disciples did not know exactly what was coming next, or when.  It’s a bit difficult to prepare for something when you’re not exactly sure what it is.  But they did know to stick together, to support each other.  And they knew how to pray.  Jesus had taught them that.  And what better preparation for whatever was to come than to spend time in prayer together.  So that’s what they did.

So how important is Ascensiontide?  Bishop Steven thought it was very important.  He recognised that this was a pivotal point in the Church’s year.  And so he encouraged our diocese to hold 10 days of prayer between Ascension and Pentecost.  A time when we move away from focusing deeply on the story of Jesus himself and move towards focusing on what Jesus wanted us to do as a church.  And what Jesus wanted the church to be doing was to get out there into the world, sharing the gospel far and wide.

But sharing our faith with others can be a daunting prospect.  We can be nervous about doing so.  We can feel inadequate.  We can feel ill-prepared.  And that’s why it’s important to pray.  We can pray alone, but it’s important to pray together too, for in doing so we support each other.  And by praying together, we can discern together what God wants us to do.

So in these 10 days of prayer, let us pray for each other and for the world.  Let us pray for Manchester and for the Middle East.  For people of our faith, of other faiths and of no particular faith.  Let us pray that God’s spirit will guide us in all we do and say when we are out and about in our daily lives.  And let us pray that we too will be effective witnesses, just as the first disciples were.

Reader Catherine Burchell

 

Readings for sermon and links:

Acts 1:6-14 1 Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-8

‘In-between Times’ – 28th May, 7th Sunday of Easter

This Sunday feels like the time “in-between” – after the glory of the Ascension and before the drama of Pentecost with the coming of Holy Spirit.  Just before our reading from Acts today we are told that Jesus ordered his disciples and followers “not to leave Jerusalem but to wait for the Promise of the Father.” Jesus said, “You will be baptised with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.” So for now the disciples wait together and pray not sure what exactly to expect.

Life is full of times “in-between”. For sports teams that have done particularly well (or badly) this can be a time “in-between” as one season has ended in one league and another is yet to begin in a higher (or lower) league. School children can find the summer holidays a time “in-between” schools, or exam groups or the transition to university, apprenticeship or work. There can be a time “in-between” when moving house, or expecting a baby (especially the period between taking maternity leave and actually giving birth). Life is full of times “in-between” – some so short they are over in a trice, some lasting days or weeks or months or even years. Some are fixed in duration while others are open-ended.

The time “in-between” can feel like a waste, an annoyance, an obstacle to getting on with things – but it can be very useful.  When I was a student in Scotland I loved the long train journey between home and university as a time to adjust between home life and student life.

The time “in-between” can give us time to recollect, to savour, to resolve things that have been neglected, to prepare ourselves for new realities, to anticipate, to explore new possibilities. Sometimes we can miss the opportunity provided by the time “in-between”. We can be so caught up in the old reality that we fail to prepare for the new. A team may be so caught up in the glory of winning in one league that they fail to prepare well for the step up to a higher one – or they may be so weighed down by the despondency of relegation that they enter a lower league so downcast that they get off on the wrong foot.

Or maybe we fear the future and change and don’t want to look ahead, preferring to dwell in the past. On the other hand we may be so excited at the prospect of a change, of something new, that we fail to take stock of where we have come from, of what has brought us to this place and fail to approach the new phase with a clear appreciation of its advantages and downsides (and everything has some downsides!)  We may invest too much expectation in a change – and believe that it will make everything right in our lives, forgetting that the one constant going forward is that we will take ourselves – who we are, what we have lived through, what we have yet to come to terms with.

We hear that the disciples and followers used the “in-between” time to meet together and to pray.  They also appointed another disciple to take the place of Judas. They doubtless talked a lot about what had happened, about how they came to be in Jerusalem, about events over the last few months, and about just what exactly they were anticipating and how it might affect them and they prayed together, opening themselves to God.

Some people like to end each day with a prayerful review of what has happened – good and bad – and offer it to God, to celebrate successes, to resolve to address failings and to prepare for tomorrow.  That is a good way to treat “in-between” times – however short or long – to review the past and pray to be prepared for what may be coming.

Writing a sermon this week, I have been aware that I really cannot ignore what has happened in Manchester – the tragedy of the terrorist attack on young people at a concert. For many people this has been, and still is, a time “in-between”. For many it is a time “in-between” youthful innocence and coming to terms with shocking horror and violence. For some it is a time “in-between” of coming to terms with dreadful, life-changing injuries, and of families coming to terms with new realities of disability or disfigurement. For some it has been a terrible “in-between” time of waiting for news of loved ones only to be met with the devastating news that they have died. And now they face the “in-between” time of dealing with a funeral, bereavement, shock and horror at what has happened and all that this terrible incident means for the future of their lives and families.

It has been a hard “in-between” time for us all – as we all deal with this attack on young people at a concert and the impact of heightened security for all of us.

But it has also been a week that has seen a lot of coming together of families, of communities, of friends and strangers, to reflect, to pray, to keep reverent silence, to remember, to support. There has been a coming together to offer practical assistance – safe refuge, transport, help, comfort, to offer financial help, aid and counsel.

We have seen some of the hardest “in-between” times and some heart-warming responses.

Our thoughts and prayers are with all those caught up in this terrible atrocity – with the victims, their families and friends, with the emergency services, the medical staff, the police and security personnel, with politicians, teachers, faith leaders, communities at large and all who have been faced with challenges as a result of these events.

May God’s blessing rest on all whose have been changed by this bomb attack. May light shine in the dark places, living water well up in the dry places and new life bud in the barren places.

May we all live through these days with hope and trust in the faithfulness of God, with an appreciation of the love and support of others around us and with prayerful trust in the power of the Holy Spirit to comfort, to heal, to inspire and to transform.

May we use all our “in-between” times well – coming together, offering prayers to God and trusting in His future. May we join with all God’s church in praying in this “in-between” week for a new outpouring of his Spirit this coming Pentecost.

Amen

Reader Anne Grant

 

Readings for sermon and links:

Acts 1:6-14 John 17:1-11

 

‘Training Manuals’ – 21st May, 6th Sunday of Easter

Many years ago I used to write training manuals and teach courses about various technical subjects.  One of my mentors had previously served in the Royal Air Force, and told me that the basic technique I should adopt in writing technical manuals was “Tell ‘em what you’re going to tell ‘em, tell ‘em, and tell ‘em you’ve told ‘em.”

If you’ve ever read manuals produced for the Services, you may well have seen this style of writing.

And I was reminded of it a few days ago when I read tonight’s reading from Peter to prepare this sermon.

You see, I’d preached on another part of Peter’s 1st Letter a couple of weeks ago.  And to be honest, when I re-read tonight’s reading from from Peter I thought to myself ‘Hang on, this sounds a bit familiar’, and indeed similar issues are raised in it to the issues he covered in Chapter 2 of his letter.

It did indeed feel that Peter was drilling something very important in to us.

Peter’s first letter isn’t quite like that pastoral letters that Paul wrote; there’s little of a personal nature in it, and rather than it being addressed to a particular Church, it’s addressed to Christians scattered all over Asia Minor.  Some scholars have commented that that this, and the general style of writing and content, suggest that it was either intended to be read as a sermon or a baptismal address, or that it was a letter based on a sermon.  This would allow the content of the letter as a whole – which is based around handling and dealing with persecution, and the response of Christians to persecution – to be seen as an address to be preached.  Other scholars have said that it’s just as possible that Peter wrote the letter as a letter to a widely spread group of Christians, to be copied and taken to different places, because many Christians from Asia Minor were in Jerusalem when he preached at the first Pentecost, and this was his follow up, so to say.

Whatever the case, Peter starts by again reminding us that if we’re to be persecuted or punished it should be for going good – doing what we are expected to do as a Christian – and not because we’ve committed a crime.

 But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, 16 keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander. 17 For it is better, if it is God’s will, to suffer for doing good than for doing evil.”

He’s telling the readers to answer those who might persecute them or criticise their behaviour in such a way as to make those persecutors think, or even feel shame.  Remember the old saying “You catch more flies with wine than with vinegar’? I think Peter is suggesting that here!

Verse 18 reminds us that Jesus – the only totally righteous man – suffered and was put to death in order that the rest of us could be bought to God.

Verses 19 to 22 of tonight’s reading are quite widely discussed by theologians.  There are a number of viewpoints held by different scholars, but I’ll stick with the most straight forward one tonight –

When Noah was building the ark, Christ ‘in the spirit’ – that is, prior to His incarnation through Mary – preached through Noah to the unbelievers who were on earth during the time. Noah and his family survived the flood, the others who disobeyed and did not repent so now are ‘spirits in prison’.

 

I have to say that better minds than mine have taken a look at this question and identified a couple of snags with this interpretation, and have offered other interpretations based on other translations of scripture.

But the thing to take away from this section of the reading is that the flood is symbolic of baptism. The water of the flood swept away the wicked; the water of our baptism washes the sin from us and allows us to be saved by Christ.

I think Peter’s letter speaks to ANY Christian at a time of direct persecution or at a time when it’s hard to be a Christian and behave in a Christ like manner in a society that is increasingly secular and that is governed and managed in a way that make deprivation and lack of compassion a common feature of everyday life.

Peter asks us “Who will harm you if you are eager to do good?” These days we may feel that society itself has a distinct tendency to make doing good – being a practical follower of Christ – hard; Peter tells us that even if we do suffer for doing good, we shouldn’t be scared. We shouldn’t respond with disrespect and anger but should respond in a way that reflects the fact that we are saved by Christ’s resurrection; with gentleness and love.

Sometimes we all feel moved to make a stand for something we believe in; as Christians we’re reminded of ‘what matters’ by the words of Micah – show mercy, do justly, love God.  Being merciful, just and compassionate can be incredibly hard in a society that doesn’t value those virtues as much as it might.  And we start wondering, “If it’s so hard, and I can get hurt, am I the right person for this job?”

But you know what? I think that Peter is telling us that not only are we the right people for the job, we’re the people who’re best equipped for it, and we’re the ONLY people who will be saved by Jesus Christ.

We’re not just the right people for the job; it’s the job we Christians are here for, and we need to get on with it.

Reader Joe Pritchard

 

Readings for sermon and links:

1 Peter 3:13-22

‘The Heart of Prayer’ – 21st May, 6th Sunday of Easter

We are all aware of the differences to be found in the many traditions of worship in the Church, such great variety of expression. There is, however, one practice that all Christian traditions follow. All pray, and although I am not familiar with all of the many styles of prayer I am certain that the majority end with the words ‘through Jesus Christ our Lord’, or something similar. The only public prayer that I can think of that does not is what we call ‘The Lord’s Prayer’.

 

Prayers can vary so much. Some can be devout; and some even outrageous when God is told what He should be doing for us. Unhappily, the words, ‘through Jesus Christ our Lord’, because of their familiarity can become something like a mantra. A neat ending to our prayer, which cannot be faulted because the words are true.

 

We know that, as Jesus promised, if we pray in His name He will answer our prayer, but when things do not turn out as we would like we have a problem which we get round by saying that God will answer in His own way. This does not always disguise our disappointment, of course, but disappointment is inevitable when we offer our prayers more in hope than expectation.

 

So let us now see if we can add some substance to our prayers. To do that we need to think about why we pray. It is so instinctive and it is right that we should but what is the thinking behind our prayer?

 

The meaning of the words of Jesus about us asking in His name is far more significant than just being a formula spoken at the end of our prayers, even though the words are true. They have great depth because we are told to offer our prayers in His name.

 

In Biblical sense a person’s name is virtually the same as the person themselves. To put it another way, a person’s name is the very essence of that person. Jesus was not speaking in the manner of ‘just mention my name’, as we say these days. It was an invitation to invoke Himself as our Divine Mediator, mediation being the core function of His priesthood.

 

With this in mind our prayers take on a whole new dimension, for by our prayers in the name of Jesus we are joining in the divine mission of Jesus, epitomised by His words from the cross pleading for those who were killing Him; Father, forgive them.

To approach our Father in the name of Jesus is an invitation to join in His divine mission of reconciliation. This is not presumption on our part but acceptance of His invitation and promise. And it is costly.

 

The ultimate cost was paid by Jesus on the cross and we are invited to share in His self-giving when we offer our prayers in His name, remembering that the name is the person. Such self-giving cannot be sustained by our own efforts but it doesn’t have to be. We have the Holy Spirit to help us, and we need His help, for we are talking of a movement of the heart towards Jesus, not a clinical calculation or formula to ensure that our prayers are answered.

For this reason the grace that comes through the Holy Spirit is essential for it is He who unites us with Jesus in our prayer. Jesus sent the Holy Spirit to help us to fulfil our Christian lives, but there is another side to the coin in that the Holy Spirit is essential for the fulfilling of Christ’s mission, in which we have a part to play.

 

Our prayer is part of His sacrifice because we are one with Him in His purpose as our Great High Priest. This sharing with Him is active and organic in that it is alive, just as Jesus is alive. This is so for all of our prayer.

 

It can be difficult to think like this when we are faced with the all encompassing prayers that are used on grand public occasions, the sort of prayers that are so vague as to cover a multitude of situations and offend nobody. Broad intentions or requests that speak of matters beyond our comprehension.

 

Such prayers are no less real in their intent, but when we hear them we can bring them to life by having in mind what the words, ‘through Jesus Christ our Lord’ mean, and then bring the intentions into the presence of Jesus our Great High Priest, the One who lives to intercede for us.

 

In His sacrifice Jesus gave glory to God and when He said “It is finished” He knew that the first chapter was over and that in Him the Father would be glorified because His only Son had been faithful to the last. His death was but the end of a chapter and the beginning of the next.

 

In saying to His disciples, and to us, that whatever is asked in His name He will do, Jesus is giving us an invitation to join with Him in His sacrificial priesthood. Our prayer is for others, certainly, and it is also an opportunity to share and join in with the priesthood of Jesus.

That is why we pray. Not to manipulate God but to offer ourselves to Him on behalf of others, as Jesus the Son of God, offered Himself.

 

To pray in whatever form it takes, is an opportunity to share with Jesus and is welcomed by Him with open arms. It is a privilege for us that He has achieved by His self-giving and like all privilege it comes with responsibilities, albeit that it is also to be treasured and loved.

 

This goes far beyond a mantra tacked on at the end of a supplication. By using the words ‘through Jesus Christ our Lord’ we exercise our vocation as Christians, offering our self-giving life with His; and in doing so we give glory to our Father, through Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Fr Ron Barret

 

Readings for sermon and links:

John 14: 13-14

‘When Christ calls’ – 7th May, 4th Sunday of Easter

Calling of DicsiplesIn the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

 

“When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”

These words were written by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German Lutheran Pastor, theologian and anti-Nazi activist who was executed alongside conspirators against Hitler on 9th April, 1945, in Flossenburg concentration camp.

As with many statements we encounter in theology, it’s not quite what it seems. Bonhoeffer went on to say “It may be a death like that of the first disciples who had to leave home and work to follow him, or it may be a death like Luther’s, who had to leave the monastery and go out into the world.”  Basically, the death Bonhoeffer wrote about was the death of losing our attachment to the everyday world. We start to do this at the start of our journey with Christ, not at the end of our lives.

For Bonhoeffer there was a literality to this statement; his beliefs inexorably led him to a place where he engaged with plots to assassinate Adolf Hitler, and so to his own death. Despite his words, he had an attachment to the world that did not allow him to turn his back on what was happening in Germany in the 1930s.

The author of tonight’s second reading is Peter. Peter is mainly known as the chap who engaged with the political powers of the day by lopping off someone’s ear and then denied his relationship with Christ. This letter was probably written in the early 60s AD – 30 years after Christ’s death – and it shows that the hot-head of Gethsemane has matured in to a thoughtful man.

Tonight’s reading is a HARD one; it needs to be looked at in conjunction with the text that immediately precedes it, and that preceding text might bring us up sharp.

In Verse 2.13, Peter tells us:

“Submit yourself for the Lord’s sake to every authority instituted among men…”

This is something quite hard for us to take on board today; there is, of course, 2000 years of history between now and when peter wrote these words; and Peter wrote in a culture still attached to the idea that kings worked with the authority of God; but it’s still hard for us.

But in Verse 2.16, Peter tells us to “Live as free men, but do not use your freedom as a cover-up for evil; live as servants of God.”

This brings us closer to where we are – and to where Bonhoeffer probably worked from.  Submit to those authorities – living as free as you can – but do not submit in such a way as disobeys the law of God. In fact, we’re being told to live as servants of God, and, where possible – that is, where it doesn’t impact on our relationship with God – ‘play by the rules’.  Peter’s saying that the need for Christians to abstain from common cultural practices of the day will raise eye-brows; no point in making things worse for yourself by behaving badly.

In Verse 2.18, we hear:

“Slaves, submit yourselves to your masters with all respect, not only those who are good and considerate, but also those who are harsh.”

Again, we have to take this in historical context as referring to both slaves and ‘house servants’  – slavery is not actually frowned upon in the New Testament, and was incredibly common in the times that Peter lived in. And this is where we come to tonight’s reading; in verses 19 and 20 Peter is following on to the comments he made about the behaviour of slaves in verse 18. A good, well-behaved slave, he says, may suffer undeserved pain and punishment and in those situations it’s commendable that he bears the unjust punishment because he is aware of God – that as a good Christian he’ll submit to unjust suffering if it’s God’s will.  If you’re a bad slave – a concept that we might well have difficulty with today – then Peter states that you can expect to be punished, and that you deserve it.  Sounds incredibly tough.  But then he says

“But if you suffer for doing good, and you endure it, this is commendable before God.”

And he goes further – as a Christian – a servant of God and Christ – we’re CALLED to do this because:

“Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.”

Christ – the total innocent – died a humiliating and painful death after taking the insults and abuse and betrayal of other men. He made no efforts to retaliate; he entrusted himself to God, and bore our sins so that we might DIE to sin.

Like Bonhoeffer said – when Christ calls us, he calls us to die.  The death may be losing our life, but it will certainly be death to sin in our lives.

And what about us? How do Peter’s words speak to us tonight?

Before becoming Christians, Peter says that we were ‘like sheep, going astray’. Now we are under the care and guidance of our shepherd, Jesus Christ. And this means that we are expected to behave like our shepherd would. We can be good citizens and good employees, but in order to be good Christians we must strive to do nothing that puts either of these roles ahead of our love of God and our compassion for our fellow man.

We may find ourselves enslaved in some way; maybe literally, maybe to we feel enslaved or in servitude to our work, maybe we’re literally imprisoned.  Again, as Christians we need to respond to that slavery by following the example set us by Christ.

To fail to do so would, in the words of our confessional prayer, ‘mar the image of God within us’.  We know we’ll fail; after all, we’re human; but we are promised our Shepherd’s mercy and grace.

I have a number of friends – and extended family members – who’re agnostic or atheist and who have been known to ask me to sum up Christianity for them.  I give them a short answer; “Love God, love one another, and don’t be an idiot.”  (Although I have been known to use stronger words than idiot…)

Peter – who, let’s face it had a few problems loving all of his fellow men and not being violently foolish in the Garden of Gethsemane – clearly developed in faith.

Maybe, just maybe, if Peter could develop like this, so can we.

Reader Joe Pritchard

 

Readings for the sermon and links:

Acts 2:42-end 1 Peter 2:19-2:25

‘How will we respond?’ – 9th April, Palm Sunday

Palm LeavesMany centuries ago the people of Israel were slaves in Egypt.  God heard their cries of anguish and called Moses to lead them out of Egypt and into the land of Canaan.  Pharaoh would not let them go.  But then Egypt was struck by plagues, one after another.  The tenth was the most terrible of all; in one night all the firstborn children died.  The Israelites were protected, smearing the blood of a sacrificial lamb on their doorposts so that God’s angel would pass over them.  When Pharaoh ordered them to leave, they had to go quickly.  There was no time for their bread to rise.  They left in haste.  They were chased.  But they made it safely into the wilderness.

God commanded Israel never to forget.  The people were to tell the story of how they were slaves in Egypt and God led them to freedom.  And they were to re-enact the story together by worshipping in the temple, and eating the Passover meal.

 

Scene 1

Passover is almost here!  Crowds are heading towards Jerusalem.

A band of pilgrims is coming from Galilee.  In their group is a prophet.  A prophet who has performed miracles, told stories, befriended the poor.  A prophet who has made God real and close for them.  Times are tough.  Like the Israelites of old, the people long to be free again.  Free of Roman rule.  Free of the many religious rules imposed on them by those in authority.  Could this prophet be the Messiah – the one the prophets told of, who would rescue Israel and her people?

It’s been a long, hot and tiring journey.  Feet are aching.  Stomachs are rumbling.  There’s a steep climb ahead, but they’re nearly there.  They reach Bethphage.  Jesus stops.  Says something to a couple of his disciples.  How will they respond?

 

Scene 2

In the next village a man waits.  Outside his house are tied his donkey and her colt.  The man is puzzling over a strange request – At Passover, please be willing to lend the teacher your donkey and colt.  He has no idea what for.  Will they be looked after?  Will he get them back again?  He needs them too, to carry his goods to and from the market.  But the teacher is a good man, a prophet.

In the distance he sees two men running towards the village.  Silly men, running uphill in this heat.  They look around for a moment, make a beeline for his house and untie his animals.

“Hey you guys!” the man shouts, running out  “what are you doing with my animals?”

“The Lord needs them”  they reply.

How will this man respond?

 

Scene 3

The pilgrims continue on up the hill towards Jerusalem.  Heading towards them are the two men who Jesus sent off on an errand.  Look!  They’ve got a donkey and foal!  Jesus smiles.  His friends place their cloaks on the back of the donkey and Jesus gets on.  The crowds are getting excited now.  Jesus is heading up the procession, but the people sense something great is about to happen.  This could be the time we were waiting for.  Some of them remove their cloaks and spread them on thre road in front of him.  Others run on ahead, cutting branches from the trees.  As he approaches, they line the road with the branches.  All are shouting “Hosanna to the Son of David!  Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!  Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

A disciple watches.  This isn’t what he was expecting.  Why is Jesus making a laughing stock of himself by riding into Jerusalem on a baby donkey?  Isn’t he supposed to be the Messiah, the one who will save Israel from the Roman oppression?  Why on earth isn’t he riding on a horse like a proper warrior?  It’s bad enough that he’s entering Jerusalem with a rag-taggle bunch of Galileans.  Now this! Who will take him seriously now?

The disciple watches in disbelief.  How will he respond?

 

Scene 4

The people in Jerusalem are preparing for the festival’s influx of visitors.  Guest houses are being cleaned, food cooked, seasonal workers hired.  Market traders are setting up their stalls.  The air is full of the smells of spices, food, animals being slaughtered, sweat.  It’s always chaotic at this time of year.  But the pilgrims will spend well and the city folk need their money.

The crowds are beginning to arrive.  But it seems noisier than usual, particularly from the direction of Bethany.  What is going on?

As the crowds get nearer, those in Jerusalem can hear them shouting “Hosanna to the Son of David”.  Some of the authorities climb up on to the rooftops to get a better view.  Look!  It’s that guy Jesus.  The one who they say has been healing people and driving out demons.  And breaking the Sabbath Laws.  He’s a troublemaker.  People are saying he’s the Messiah.  What shall we do?

Some of them see him on the donkey and laugh!  Well it doesn’t look like he’s going to cause an insurrection here – what’s a mighty warrior doing on a donkey?

Others think back to the story of Solomon.  When king David was on his deathbed, it wasn’t clear who he wanted to succeed him.  So his son Adonijah attempted to take over the crown.  Then David ordered that Solomon be placed on his mule and process to Gihon, where he was to be anointed king.  This duly happened.  Adonijah’s court were alarmed by the noisy celebrations.  Solomon took over the throne and Adonijah came to a sticky end.

They also remember the words of the prophet Zechariah (Zech 9:9, NRSV)

Rejoice Greatly, O daughter Zion!

Should aloud, O daughter Jerusalem!

Lo, your king comes to you;

triumphant and victorious is he,

humble and riding on a donkey,

on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

The religious authorities remember, and are rattled.  This guy Jesus could be serious trouble.  How will they respond?

 

Scene 5

The man who would be king and saviour entered Jerusalem on a donkey.  He didn’t raise up an army to overthrow the Romans.  Instead, he went to the temple.  He turned out the money changers and traders, complaining that they had desecrated the house of prayer.  He healed the sick, he answered questions and told stories about the Kingdom of God.  He allowed a woman of ill-repute to anoint him.  And he performed the most menial of duties for his friends, by washing their feet.

He did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited,

but emptied himself,

taking on the form of a slave

he humbled himself

and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.  (Phil. 2:6b-8, NRSV)

 

This is the man who would be king and saviour

How will we respond?

 

Reader Catherine Burchell

 

Readings for the sermon and links:

Philippians 2:5-11 Matthew 21:1-11

‘Dem Bones’ – 2nd April, 5th Sunday of Lent

In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

A little question to start with; what do tonight’s reading from Ezekiel, Chapter 3 of the Book of Ecclesiastes and Chapter 21 of the book of Isaiah have in common?

The answer? They’ve all provided inspiration to popular songs.  The verse from Isaiah gave us Bob Dylan’s ‘All along the Watchtower’, Ecclesiastes gave us the Byrds’ ‘Turn, Turn, Turn’ and Ezekiel 37 gave us the song ‘Dem Bones’.  And you’ll be gratified to hear that I don’t intend to sing any of these!

Our reading tonight is perhaps one of the most memorable and evocative stories from the Old Testament Prophets.  Ezekiel is one of the three major prophets of the Old Testament, along with Isaiah and Jeremiah, and his message is pretty straight-forward. The people of Israel – a holy people, of the holy temple, in a holy land – have yet again broken their relationship with God and they have been punished.

An interesting fact about the Book of Ezekiel is that the events and prophecies in it can be dated with greater accuracy than any of the other prophetic books in the Old Testament.  Ezekiel received his call from God to be prophet in 593BC, and his last dated writing was 571BC – 22 years which covered the period in which Jerusalem fell, the temple was destroyed and the people of Israel exiled to Babylon. Ezekiel was also widowed during this period, and as a member of the priestly class he must have been devastated at the events in his personal life and the life of the people of God.

There was a phrase used by the people when all seemed lost and there was no hope; they would say ‘Our bones are dried up’ – and so it’s perhaps no surprise that God gives Ezekiel this terrifying vision of a valley full of dead bones.

What do you have in your mind’s eye?

For me, I think of Ezekiel standing on a raised piece of ground, looking around him, down a long, wide, limitless valley. And bones. As far as the eye can see, a sea of disconnected, random bones – nothing holding anything together in the form of a skeleton. Bones that have been there for so long that every bit of flesh has been long since eaten or rotted away. Bones jumbled in to random piles – a skull here, ribs there, leg bones and arm bones, the small bones of the hands and feet disconnected and lying around like piles of pebbles.

This represents the current situation and possible future of the people of Israel – a dead people, shattered and rent asunder, disconnected from themselves, from each other, and God.

When Ezekiel had visions, they pulled no punches, and left nothing to the imagination.

God then asks him to prophesy to these bones – and as he does so, Ezekiel sees the bones start assembling themselves in to skeletons. The bones just don’t come together higgeldy-piggeldy; they come together with structure and form – in the words of that song I mentioned:

Toe bone connected to the foot bone

Foot bone connected to the heel bone

Heel bone connected to the ankle bone

 

And so on until the skeletons are reformed. And that’s not all – as he prophesied, sinews were laid upon the bones, joining them together, then flesh, and finally skin. The valley was now full of bodies – perfect in every way – except they’re still not alive.

And God urges Ezekiel to prophesy again – this time to the ‘breath’ :

“Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live”

Now this isn’t just God doing a massive exercise in mouth to mouth resuscitation; we’re not just talking about air being blown in to the lungs of these bodies to make them live.  The Hebrew word used here is ‘ruarch’, which has three meanings; wind, breath and the spirit of God – what we would call the Holy Spirit. Ezekiel is prophesying for the Holy Spirit to fill these husks and turn them in to living, breathing people.

In verses 11 to 14 God explains the vision he has given to Ezekiel; and despite the apocalyptic setting it’s actually good news.  Despite everything that’s happened, things will be OK;

“I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil.”

The multitude of people raised in that valley will return to their homeland, Israel, and hence to the good graces of God. The relationship with God will be repaired; they will return home.

How often do we find ourselves in Ezekiel’s valley? Those times when our less than wise and perhaps even mean-minded – dare I use the word sinful? – actions and behaviour seem to have brought us to a place where one or more of our relationships is dry bones and devastation; our plans are dismembered and scattered around us, and all we can see is the skeletal remains of what was once our future, and is now just dry, lifeless ruin?  I know I’ve been there a few times in my 55 years.

There are times when we’ve done all that we can do, to fix the damage, but we’re still left with a valley of dry bones.  Broken relationships with friends, family, damaged careers, debts, misery and despair. All broken apart like those skeletons that Ezekiel saw in his vision.

We settle down and start trying to fix things; we might manage to get things looking good again. Rather than a total mess we get things looking sort of like what they were before we broke them; but they’re still not quite right. The bones are connected, sinew and flesh has been laid, but there is still no spark of life. Our relationships are not as they were – trust is not there. Love may not be there. The Holy Spirit is certainly not there.

And that’s when we need to be humble, and pray, and ask for forgiveness and ask that God’s grace work through us to properly repair these fractured relationships.

You may remember these words sometimes used in our morning prayers or at Communion;

“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit : a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise. “

And this is what we need to bring to God so that His breath may re-animate these once-dead relationships.  Things may not be perfect, but they will be way better than when we found ourselves plonked down in that valley with the mass of dead, dry, disconnected bones.

Amen

Reader Joe Pritchard

 

Readings for the sermon and links:

Ezekiel 37:1-14 Isaiah 21 Romans 8:6-11

‘Children of’ – 26th March, 4th Sunday of Lent

LightI travel at roughly 186 000 miles per second

I am sometimes a wave and sometimes a particle

I have energy which can be tapped and used to heat your home

or make your plants grow.

I can make you feel warm.

I can turn a piece of paper yellow or even burn a hole in it.

I can make you want to get up in the morning, or make it difficult for you to go to sleep in the evening.

 

I enable you to see, to navigate your way around the world.

Too much of me can be blinding.

Not enough of me can make you lacking in energy.

I can be split into different colours.

I expose what is there

and show you all the things you want to see

like your flowers and your children

and all the things you’d rather stayed hidden,

the cobwebs in your sitting room, the streaks on your windows

and the ever increasing number of grey hairs on your head.

 

What am I?

 

Well I think you probably know the answer!  Light!

There are parts of creation that thrive in the dark – bats for instance.  But much of our world is only there because of light.  Sunlight in particular.  And humans need light to survive.  We need light to navigate our way round the world and see any dangers about.  We need light to grow the plants we eat.  We need light for keeping our bodies healthy.  And we need light to keep our energy levels up and our moods good.  It is no coincidence that many early human cultures thought that the sun was a god and worshipped it.

And because light is vital to our very being, it is not surprising that we use light as a metaphor too.  We talk of “shedding light” on a problem when trying to solve it.  We talk of “seeing the light” when we suddenly realise that something we have been thinking or doing was wrong all along.  And we talk of “light at the end of the tunnel” when we start to see a positive outcome emerging from what has been a long and unpleasant or difficult situation.

In his letters to the early churches, the Apostle Paul makes much use of light as a metaphor for God, Jesus and all that is good.  In this evening’s reading from his letter to the Ephesians, he begins by declaring that the people of the church of Ephesus are light.  They used to be darkness, but now they are light.

And he wants them to live as  “children of light” or “fruit of the light” .  More metaphors.  What might they mean?

 

Well if you consider that…

the child of a cat is also a cat,

the child of a mouse is also a mouse

and the child of a human is also a human,

We could say that the child of light is also light!

 

The Ephesians, and by extension all Christians, are being reminded that because God is light, so we are light.  We are children of God.

What does a child of light look like then?  Well a child of light will look like the light.  He or she will be strong and warm.  He or she will have the power to enable others and the rest of creation to grow and flourish.  She or he will show up all that is good.  But she or he will also show up what is not good, and expose the things we’d rather not see.  In short, a child of God, who is light, will look something like God.

We are now halfway through Lent.  Over the next few weeks we will begin to focus on Jesus’ passion, arrest, trial and death, the darkest hours of the Christian story.  And then on Easter Saturday, we will keep vigil.  The church will be in darkness whilst we remind ourselves through familiar Bible stories of the bigger story we are part of – the story of creation, of the Exodus, of the Exile and the prophets.  Stories of trouble, but also of God’s promise of restoration.

And then we will light the new Easter candle.  This represents the light of Christ, who came to banish darkness.  We will each take light from this candle and gradually process into church.  Lots of little lights will begin to expose what the darkness has hidden.  And then the lights of the whole church will be switched on and our Easter celebrations will begin in full.  The service is known as the Service of the Light.

As part of this service, as a reminder that we are Children of the Light, we will renew our baptismal vows.  The Easter candle will then be lit throughout the Easter season.  After that it will be lit again at baptisms.  Its light will then light candles which are given to the newly baptised.  It will also be lit at funerals, a time when people feel great darkness.  A reminder that Christ, the Light of the World, overcame death in order that we might also have life.

Wednesday’s events in London have been a horrible reminder of the darkness that is very much still a part of our world and of human nature.  But we have also seen acts of light in the people who bravely turned towards the danger in order to assist the victims of the attack.  Or those schoolchildren who sang to lighten the mood of those locked down in Parliament.

This week we have also remembered the life of Martin McGuinness.  He was a man who turned away from the darkness of hatred and violence in Northern Ireland, to the light of reconciliation and peaceful politics.  He even surprised many people by becoming good friends with some of those on the opposite side of the conflict.  His funeral was attended by people from both sides of the divide.  Examples in today’s world of fruit of the light.

We are Children of the light.  Let us then ask ourselves, do we look like a child of the light?  What beautiful things might we expose?  How might we give strength to those who need it?  How might we enable creation and other people to grow?  And how might we expose what is not good, so that like the Ephesians and us, we can move from being darkness to light?

So let us, in the words we say at the end of a baptism service:

 

Shine as a light in the world, to the glory of the Father!1

 

Reader Catherine Burchell

 

Readings for sermon and links:

1 Samuel 16:1-13 Ephesians 5:8-14

 

1From Common Worship Baptism Service © Archbishops Council 2000