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Matthew 11 2-11

Advent is a time for reflection and planning, looking back and looking forward. It is also a time when we can air our disappointments, our doubts and our fears.

That is exactly what we find John doing – he is asking the question ‘are you the one’. After all, he had done his bit. He had lived in the wilderness, getting prepared for his role as a prophet. He had a terrible wardrobe and diet. He had proclaimed a very unpopular message of repentance, all preparing the way for his cousin. Up to that point John believed that Jesus was the one. Now the doubts are creeping in. It’s three o’clock in the morning and John is in prison where it’s dark and lonely. He is a man of the wilderness, of open places, used to being in the wind and the sun. Now he is locked away in a dark and airless cell: no sun to warm him or river to cool him. He begins to worry and question everything he has believed in.

Perhaps he wasn’t the prophet called to proclaim the coming of God’s Messiah. Perhaps he was mistaken about Jesus, maybe he isn’t the Messiah after all and John has failed in his work for God.

John, plagued by these doubts, searches for answers. He sends some of his followers to Jesus to ask him if he really is the 'one who is to come'. "Did I get it wrong? And now I am in prison because King Herod has taken exception to my fiery teaching and particularly when I denounced him for marrying his brother’s ex- wife. I only did what I was told and now I languish in prison."

Not unreasonably John was disappointed. He heard about what Jesus was up to and didn’t like the sound of it at all. Where was the man of fire sweeping through Israel?
Maybe he was thinking, not long now and Jesus will topple Herod and become King in his place – and get me out of prison and give me a place of honour. That was John's plan, but it is as if Jesus is working from another script.

Jesus is befriending sinners and tax collectors, people the Jews regarded as outsiders and unclean. He was breaking the rules of the Torah. He was healing the sick and associating with lepers of all things, he was getting a reputation, and was getting himself into trouble with the authorities, this was not supposed to happen.

John was working from a different script – he was looking for judgement like Elijah raining down fire and destroying the enemy. Jesus knew he was the one and he has turned the page and is one jump ahead of John. For mercy comes after judgement, and healing comes after sorrow. Jesus knew he was the Messiah who would heal the sick, raise the dead and set the people free. He would bring mercy not judgement. They were as different as chalk and cheese. John was puritanical, rigid, austere, unbending, scary, and preaching repentance.

Jesus was warm, compassionate, gentle and humble but their message was the same as Jesus called for repentance as well, but he took it a step further and offered us grace.

Sometimes we in the church and in our own lives can act like John; pointing the finger, letting our attitudes and prejudices hang out demanding judgement for wrongs done to us or others, when we should be offering mercy and forgiveness and living in the light of God’s grace.

There is a lot in our world to be worried and frightened about. There are plenty of problems to occupy our minds at three o’clock in the morning. Perhaps we also wonder if we’ve got it wrong about God, love, hope and new life. Maybe like John we would also like to ask, “Are you the one? Is there really a God?" Were we right to believe and trust in him? Faith has many questions, most of which can’t be answered at three o’clock in the morning.

Perhaps Jesus would give us the same sort of answer he sent to John. Look around you and see what’s happening. Wherever people are reaching out to each other in peace, God is at work. Wherever the weak and vulnerable are cared for, God is there; when hope is offered to those in despair and goodwill is shown to enemies, God is there and his kingdom is breaking into our world. The kingdom of God is here, we are part of it, and in Jesus we see and hear what life in that kingdom is all about.

Sometimes we find ourselves asking the same question as John. "Are you really the one, Jesus, are you really the Messiah?" for life goes on. We look around and there is still oppression, injustice, personal and national calamities. But then we see the grace and mercy of God. Not in the spectacular that was evident in Jesus time, but in acts of grace, mercy and kindness to one another and in answers to prayer, for God is very much alive and well and living in the hearts of his people.

What are our expectations this Advent? Do we expect to celebrate Christ’s birth with familiar stories, carols and traditions? Or are we open to being touched anew by the poignancy of God coming among us as a vulnerable baby? And how would we expect Jesus to behave if he were living among us now? Would we expect to see him with the homeless in shelters or on the streets? Spending time with lonely, isolated and forgotten people? Visiting prisoners who’ve committed monstrous crimes that we think are beyond forgiveness? Speaking out against self-righteousness and hypocrisy among those who claim to be his followers?

What about our expectations of Christ returning in glory “to judge the living and the dead”, as we repeat fervently in our Creed each Sunday, or is that something we tuck away in the back of our minds because we don’t really think it will happen?

So many questions. Perhaps today, more than ever, we need to listen to John the Baptist calling us to prepare for the coming of one who will be more powerful, more holy and more gloriously loving than we can imagine. For if we are prepared when Christ does come again we won’t need to ask, “Are you the one who is to come?” Our hearts will know that he is indeed that one and we will worship him who is Christ the everlasting Lord.

Let us pray:
Lord God, guide us to seek you and to find you in the little things of life. Lead us through what is familiar and help us to understand the mystery of the Incarnation which passes understanding but is the source of our hope. Keep our feet from following other ways, our mind from seeking other mysteries, our heart from desiring any other assurance but faith in Jesus the Messiah.

"Are you REALLY the One?"

The third Sunday of Advent

Midnight (Thurne)

Reading this beautiful gospel once again, I found myself marvelling at its power. What is it about Luke’s telling of the nativity that makes it so enduring, and endearing? Year after year, century after century, whether on television or in church, we’re drawn to this story, and moved by it again and again. It is, for so many of us, “THE” Christmas story.

Part of it is the cast of characters Luke assembles. Luke was the only evangelist who was not Jewish, and his gospel is beautifully inclusive. He is the evangelist for the outsider and the outcast – and so in this birth narrative you have EVERYONE. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, shepherds, angels, even Caesar is mentioned. The only ones who don’t appear are the wise men, but they’ll pop up on their own holiday, at Epiphany, coming in January. In this narrative, you really do see the world spread before us. Everyone is welcome at the stable.
But beyond the setting, and the sentiment, there is a truth here that strikes at the heart of every believing Christian – that truth that defines Christmas.

It is there, in the middle of the gospel, in the very first words that are spoken by the angel Gabriel to Mary.
“Do not be afraid.”

And then it gets even better.
“Behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.”
“A saviour has been born for you who is Christ and Lord.”

These are the words we have been longing for. With this moment, the course of human history changes forever. God has become one of us. The saviour’s very name proclaims the incredible truth that no one ever thought possible: “Emmanuel.” God is with us. It is a stunning thought, almost overwhelming.

And yet we like Mary are told: “Do not be afraid.”

Across two thousand years, those words reach out to us in joy and hope and consolation. No matter who you are, no matter where you live, no matter what your circumstances, this what matters:

“Do not be afraid.”

To those who are bereaved, To those who struggle with illness and pain, To those with a terminal diagnoses, To those who are refuges in this world, to the displaced, unloved and lost To the father without a job, To those in abusive situations or the children pulled apart by divorce or separation:
The message is still the same:

“Do not be afraid.”

To all those who feel that maybe God has forgotten you. To those who feel, as Mother Teresa did, abandoned to the dark night:

Do not be afraid.

Because even in this darkest of nights, there is light. A saviour has been born for you who is Christ and Lord. Here is our hope.
He didn’t come in grandeur or majesty, to intimidate us. He came as the most helpless and dependent creature of all: a baby, in a manger, in Bethlehem. He loves us so much, God came to us as someone we could not help but love.

So, do not be afraid!

Of course it is relatively easy for us in the West – we have freedom of speech and are free to worship who and what we like. We are, not yet, persecuted for our faith. So many of our Christian brothers and sisters are not afraid, and bear witness to this astonishing fact that the Incarnation continues and that Christ is still coming to us to our situations.

The most difficult thing of all is for us to take this wonderful message of hope and redemption to those who need to hear and experience the love of God.

Yes: on this night, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.
A saviour has been born. And he continues to be born in our hearts, if only we will allow it to happen.
That, is the great power of Christmas, the reason why year after year that beautiful passage from Luke resonates. Christmas is about redemption, yes. But it is also about God’s overpowering love for us – His reassurance to a troubled, frightened, war-torn world that He is with us, through everything.
He dreams with us.
He struggles with us.
He grieves with us.
And: He hopes with us.
Remember his name. Emmanuel. God is with us.

So do not be afraid.

That’s what Christmas is all about – Spread the glad tidings
May you all have a joyous, peaceful Christ-filled Christmas.

"Do not be afraid"

John 20: 19-end

It is Caravaggio, the seventeenth-century Italian artist, who captures most vividly the moment when Thomas makes his declaration of faith in the risen Christ. The painting entitled ‘The Incredulity of St Thomas’ shows that Jesus has loosened his garment. In the dim light of the spluttering candle, he grips Thomas by the wrist. Thomas extends a distinctly grubby forefinger which Jesus guides into the loose flesh of the gaping wound in his side. Thomas' brow is deeply furrowed with doubt and incomprehension. His eyes follow the direction of his extended forefinger. This is the moment of decision. Can he believe what he sees? He can, and he does: "My Lord and my God!" It is a life-changing moment for Thomas. It remains a crucial moment for the many who would come after him in the course of time, "who have not seen and yet have come to believe".

Because of his initial reluctance to believe that Jesus had risen, Thomas has given his name to all who find it difficult to believe, or who experience moments of doubt. Yet Thomas was one of the original twelve whom Jesus sent out to proclaim the Gospel with very little to sustain them. When there were threats on Jesus' life, it was Thomas who encouraged the others: "Let us also go, that we may die with him." So we need to look again at the circumstances surrounding his declaration of faith.

As we are presented with Thomas' disbelief, we have to ask, "Why should he have believed?" We know very little about the disciples. We cannot know what went on between them, or what bound them together. We do know conflicts existed, as over which of them would be the most important. So when the others told Thomas they had seen the risen Jesus, it could have been that they were having a joke, in the worst possible taste, at his expense. Nor could he know they had already seen Jesus' wounds for themselves.

But the appearance of the risen Jesus a week later confirmed that the disciples had not been joking. They had been genuine, and now Jesus was actually there amongst them again. Having greeted them all with those wonderful words of comfort "Peace be with you", it was to Thomas that he turned. "Put your finger here and, see my-hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side."

This is the scene Caravaggio captured in his painting. The setting is commonplace, simply the house where the disciples met and locked the doors for fear of their enemies. The artist gives us no shining lights or angels waiting at the edges of his canvas. Yet it is a profoundly religious moment, lit by Thomas' declaration of faith. He is confronted by Jesus in person, a different person, yet essentially the same, who addresses him directly: "Do not doubt but believe." In that moment Thomas has to make up his mind, reach his decision. The evidence of the resurrection is there before his eyes. There is only one conclusion he can come to: "My Lord and my God!" Thomas is declaring his faith in the risen Christ, acknowledging Christ's claim upon his life from now on, and committing the whole of his life to proclaiming the Gospel of the dying and rising of Jesus. Ancient tradition has it that this took him as far afield as India, where he was martyred.

Nevertheless, Thomas' negative reputation lives on. His name stands for doubt, rather than faith. This means that we do Thomas a grave disservice when we take his name in vain. He has left an abiding and positive legacy to the Church, to all who would seek to follow the risen Christ. In many ways he stands for all of us, represents all of us. Many of us have followed his pattern. We have experienced the same struggle to believe, to come to terms with the Christian faith, to make a commitment to the risen Lord.

There is ample evidence in the Bible of the many who have heard God's call, and felt that it could not be so. How could God be calling them? For ourselves, we may also feel, or have felt, that it must at best be a mistake; at worst, a joke in poor taste. Like Thomas, we have to weigh the evidence, reach our own conclusion, and make our own decision. Only then can we make our personal declaration of faith, and all that it implies for our belief, and our commitment to service in the name of the risen Lord. Like Thomas, we have to be able to say, at some stage, and in our own way, "My Lord and my God!" The story doesn’t end there as we believe Thomas went on to be the first missionary to India, where he was martyred for his faith. We may not be called to such a ministry but we are given the same commission – to go and to spread the good news, by word and by deeds.

"Do not doubt but believe"

Second Sunday of Easter

22nd Sunday after Trinity Mark 10 46 -52

They say that there is none so blind as those who will not see. I suppose that is true for there are many people walking around in the world today whose eyes work perfectly, yet they cannot seem to see that the way they are living their lives will eventually lead them into eternal damnation. In this story, we are presented with a man who was absolutely blind. Bartimaeus could see nothing with the physical eyes with which he had been born, yet he had 20/20 spiritual vision.

This account is the last recorded miracle in Mark's gospel before Jesus entered Jerusalem on the way to his Passion.

Of all the other miracles that Jesus performed how many names of those he healed can you remember?

Apart from Lazarus, who was Jesus friend, no other person was named. We have Jarius’s daughter, the centurion’s servant, the leper and the deaf man – but no one by name. Theologians feel that Mark preserved his name because according to tradition, Bartimaeus went on to become a stalwart of the church in Jerusalem. Or maybe it was just because he made such an impression that his name has been preserved for all time? Bar means ‘son of’ so we get son of Timaues and the word Timaues means ‘son of honour.’

This story lends itself to engaging our imagination.

Imagine then: It was hot, it was dusty, and they were walking to Jerusalem which is about 18 miles. There was a large crowd, Jesus, his disciples, followers of ‘the way’, and pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem for Passover.

The day began like any other day for blind Bartimaeus. Waking up, he shook the straw from his ragged clothes, got up and began tapping his way to the main gate of Jericho. On the way perhaps he was able to beg a crust of bread, then he sat down. Suddenly his acute hearing caught the sound of a crowd approaching – he reached out and asked a passer by what was happening.

Someone called back “Jesus of Nazareth is passing by.” Bartimaeus had probably heard of some of the things that Jesus had been doing and now he had to make up his mind. This must be the Messiah and he now he is coming nearby me.

For years this man had sat by the highway begging. He was helpless and in a hopeless condition. As Jesus passed by, it dawned on Bartimaeus that if Jesus was who He claimed to be, this was the day of his greatest opportunity. As a result, he began to cry out for the Lord to have mercy on him. Bartimaeus, though blind, was able to see the opportunity when it stared him in the face. Bartimaeus had to do something!

Mark tells us he began to shout:
‘Jesus Son of David have mercy on me!’ The crowd told him to be quiet – but he shouted all the more.

‘Jesus Son of David have mercy on me!’ He was desperate, he was frantic. The people around him tried to shut him up. ‘Bartimaeus stop making a scene’, But no way was blind Bart going to shut up. ‘Jesus Son of David have mercy on me!’ He knew that this opportunity might never come again. Apparently, Jesus had never passed that way before and for all Bartimaeus knew, He might never pass that way again. He knew that if he were going to receive help from Jesus, then he had to call on Jesus while He was near. And he surely did - ‘Jesus Son of David have mercy on me!’ If we turn down the volume for a moment and look at what he was saying we will see why his cries were going to get him attention. His pitiful cry ‘have mercy on me’ tells us that he was aware of his condition – he knew he was blind and in perpetual darkness. From the darkness of the womb he had entered the darkness of the world. He had never seen a tree, or the blue sky or the face of his Mother or any one else. Unlike so many who are in spiritual darkness he knew exactly what his problem was.

Secondly he knew who Jesus was. He was calling to Jesus, Son of David a blatantly Messianic title. This is the only place in Mark’s gospel where this title is used until Jesus uses it for himself later in the gospel. Bartimaeus just knew Jesus was the Messiah.

Finally knowing Jesus was the Messiah fired him up all the more and he rejected the crowds control and just kept on shouting. ‘Jesus Son of David have mercy on me!’ Would that this extreme sense of urgency be mirrored in our hearts today. Jesus said ‘blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled.’ In other words spiritual blessings belong to those who go for it – and helpless Bartimaeus certainly went for it – and Jesus heard him. Jesus stopped and said ‘call him.’

Remember Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem, to face a terrible death and yet he has time for this poor blind beggar. Now the crowd change their tune, instead of telling Bartimaeus to be quiet they said ‘cheer up he is calling you.’ The instant he heard this he stopped yelling, threw off his moth eaten cloak, scattering the few coins he owned, an extreme gesture for a blind man, for he would not be able to find them again, and he stumbled helplessly forward. What a picture - face to face; Jesus with his penetrating, loving eyes staring into the sightless eyes of Bartimaeus. What a glorious moment that must have been for this poor, blind beggar! His faith was honoured - Bartimaeus son of honour had received an audience with Jesus the Messiah.

Jesus asks him ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ In other words. Do you, Bartimaeus, want to give up begging, do you want to live a different life and work for a living. It is quite a challenge, no longer to sit by the roadside relying on passers by for food and money.

This is in stark contrast to the same question Jesus had posed to James and John as we heard last week. ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ – They of course wanted power, one to sit on his right and the other on his left in his new Kingdom. No power or glory for Bartimaeus he just wants ‘to see.’

Jesus said ‘your faith has made you well.’ Jesus had responded to Bartimaeus’ understanding of his own darkness. Bartimaeus, blind at the beginning of the short sentence, was seeing by the end of it. No surgery, no bandages, no drops every four hours, no glasses, just perfect sight. Just imagine the very first thing that Bartimaeus saw – the face of Jesus. How amazing was that?

So what can we learn from his story.
First of all, the cry of one in need is far sweeter to Jesus than the shallow hallelujahs of the crowd. Jesus will hear our cry when it comes from the heart. Secondly, Bartimaeus left his cloak, probably the only thing he owned to go to Jesus. Are we prepared to let go of something precious – to receive from Jesus? Or ask that question another way. What are we holding on to that is stopping us seeing Jesus? And most important of all, Jesus was passing through Jericho, never to pass that way again. If Bartimaeus had sat still that day and said nothing, then the next day would have been like all the others before. He would have sat by the road begging until he died. He may have been blind, but even he could see that unless he did something about this situation, he was doomed to a life of misery and darkness. After Bartimaeus had received healing from Jesus, he told Bartimaeus ‘go; your faith has made you well.’ However, as we know he didn’t go. He saw that Jesus’ way was a far better way than his own and he followed Jesus and according to Luke ‘he praised the name of the Lord as he followed Jesus in the way.’

How many of us are walking around like blind beggars. We can see with our eyes, but our spiritual sight still needs to be switched on, so that we can see the beggar, the homeless, the asylum seeker, the refugee, the mentally ill, the poor, and the other that is not quite like us. In other words we need to see as Jesus does.

The good news is that we don’t have to sit and wait for Jesus to pass by.

Jesus is here today, we meet him in his Word and in the Eucharist - we meet Him in the breaking of bread – and in the Wine. We receive Christ by faith – and we receive God’s grace. If we open our hearts we will receive his love and we will begin to see with his eyes and respond with his love. There is a catch however, like Bartimaeus we have to want to get up from our usual place, we have to be prepared to throw of the cloak – that is our security, the things we think we need to hold on to. We also have to ignore the crowd that will discourage us, sometimes it is a real crowd, and sometimes the crowd is a voice in our head, either way we have to follow our heart. This morning we will have that chance to respond to Jesus. We can receive the sacrament and walk back to our seat unchanged, or we can pray ‘open my eyes Lord, to see as you see, to be moved to respond as you would have me respond.’ There is always that third option that most people will look for - put it off until tomorrow, but if we miss our chance today, we may regret it for Jesus may not pass your way again – none of us know what tomorrow will hold.

"Open my eyes, Lord!"

"Your Faith has made you well"

Christ the King Matthew 25: 31-45

Today we celebrate Christ the King – and today is also known as Stir Up Sunday, traditionally when Christmas puddings were stirred. I pray that the Holy Spirit will give each one of us a stir this morning.

Once again we have one of the hard stories from Jesus, hard to explain, hard to take on board; we don’t like talking or hearing about judgement or the end times and you might well think, here we go again with the sheep and the goats.

I have preached a sermon about the sheep and goats from this pulpit on more than one occasion. In fact I was tempted to dig one out this morning. You may remember I told you that in the Middle East sheep and goats are almost identical to look at unless you are the shepherd. They are large brown woolly animals and the only way of telling the difference is by looking at their tails. Sheep are ‘downies’ and goats are ‘uppies’.

So it is with us –it is not clear from our looks what is happening on the inside. I am sure we have all heard it said that you don’t have to go to church to be a Christian. We all know people that live exemplary lives and do many good deeds but would never darken the door of a church. But we know that God looks into the heart, only he knows our intention, and more to the point he knows what we have done with Jesus. Is he king in our lives or have we rejected him?

The idea of eternal punishment is no longer tenable in the 21st century, and so many of our generation have lost the sense of sin; right and wrong have blurred edges now, and very few people see the need to make recompense; We have a ‘live and let live’ culture. There is the interesting situation at present with the footballer who has been convicted and served some time in prison for rape, wanting to be reinstated in his club, and the issue has divided communities and families.

If we are not careful we will end up with a God who is regarded as an easy-going Father who will let us get away with anything as long as we say we are sorry once a week. It is very clear from our reading this morning that we are individually accountable for our actions and our inactions. We will be judged whether we believe it or not.
Most of us will go through life without meeting a judge. The majority of us learn about judges and judgement from films and the television. In the old days, it was Perry Mason, now it is Judge Rinder , but we know it isn’t really true to life. There won’t be any clever lawyers to get us off the hook in heaven.

Jesus is telling his disciples at the end of the age he will come back. Jesus Christ will be in his rightful place as King and there will be the final division of the sheep from the goats. With a little imagination we might be able to fill in the gaps in the parable. It might go something like this. The king looking at the goats on his left and said, “What did you do? “What did you do for the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the starving, the imprisoned, the elderly, the disabled, or the sick? What did you do? And the goats, reply “Judge, we are good people. If you got to know us we are not bad at all. We love our wives, our children, our families; we come from a good solid family background. We have good beliefs and values; we go to church; we give money each week; Judge, we have good feelings about the poor, the starving, and the naked. We have positive feelings towards the poor and every time we see pictures of the starving, our hearts are sad.” The judge asked the question: “Yes I hear you but what did you do? And the goats reply; “Well, uhhhh, you know:” they expected the judge to be lenient, to be understanding. Then came the verdict clearly and distinctly: “Move to the left and depart from me into eternal damnation.” “What?” they couldn’t believe their ears. “Depart from me into eternal damnation where people will weep and gnash their teeth”. The goats weren’t expecting that sentence.

Then he turned to the sheep on the right, the judge said: “What did you do?” The sheep said, “We didn’t do anything.” The king said, “Yes, you did. I was watching you. You fed the hungry, you clothed the naked, you visited the sick and imprisoned and now you shall inherit eternal life. You are good sheep.” The sheep said, “We are?” The king said, “You are, come into my eternal pastures and receive eternal life.”

But, how many of us take these parables about the final judgement seriously? Are we really concerned about our final day in court. Do we really expect to hear that question, “What have you done?” Most of us are too busy with life to be preoccupied with meeting our maker. I am sure many think this story is part of archaic, religious folk law from the Bible, about sheep and goats. What does this have to do with our cosmic age in the 21st century? I am sure most of us don’t spend too much time worrying about our final day in court. It is not the dominant themes in most of our pulpits unless you go to a service in the Church of Scotland, the ‘wee free’s’ know all about judgement!

But my friends, there will be a day of reckoning;

Jesus talked about it time and time again; just look through the gospels. We cannot have pick and mix salvation; Judgement is found throughout the Old Testament, in the books of the prophets, right through to the book of Revelation. There will be that question for each one of us to answer “What did you do? And we will be either in the sheep or the goat camp; I don’t think Jesus will be interested in our religious faithfulness but he will be interested in knowing what we have done for each other.

Of course we mustn’t fall into the trap of reducing the Christian faith into an extension of the Scout movement ‘doing a good turn every day’ or feeling compelled to give to every begging letter that comes through the door. The heart of Christianity – the heart of our faith is about our relationship with God in Christ,

Jesus is teaching us that he is in every person that we help or that we ignore, Sometimes it is very hard to see Christ in the drunk, the beggar, the addict, the criminal but whether we believe it or not Jesus tells us it is so.

Jesus did not tell this parable to send us on a guilt trip, or to give us sleepless nights. If we read the story again it is all about the simple things, giving simple help to people every day.
Several years ago I spent some time with a friend who is the Rector of a parish in Wanstead. We set off to do some shopping and notice a young man and his dog huddled in a blanket outside a café. Liz went over to him, called him by name and helped him up. She took him into the café and bought him breakfast. I was dispatched to buy the dog food and feed the dog! Later that day she organised a hostel bed for Robert for the night. A ring at the door - another gentleman of the road on the doorstep, he was given sandwiches and a flask and shelter in the garden shed until it stopped raining and so it went on. I was so humbled, she was, and still is such an example of what caring is all about. She has set up a fund in church that any member can use to help the needy in practical terms. The wealthy stockbroker and the homeless sit side by side each Sunday.

Of course we cannot do any of this on our own, so we pray for Jesus to come into our hearts and lives, we pray for the Holy Spirit to guide and enable us to live as he meant us to, then we will know the joy of serving Christ; And when that final day comes and we stand before the King, we may mumble like silly sheep, or we may not be able to say anything at all, but we need not fear the question.

What did you do?

"Stir Up Sunday"

Christ the King
The parable of the sheep and the goats

Third Sunday after Trinity Matthew 10: 40-42

‘Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.’

A prophet, a righteous person, and little ones - sounds like the beginning of a joke. I have sometimes wondered about this passage from Matthew's Gospel. Is this a descending order? Do these actions and people start at the top, as it were, and then work their way down? Is the prophet worth more than the righteous man or are they on equal footing? Or is this the other way round, the story building up to the point where you can see the glory in giving a cup of cold water to the little ones as actually the high point in the story? I have a sneaking suspicion that most people will have difficulty realizing that such a small acts as offering a cup of water actually has eternal significance.

These two verses come at the end of the lengthy instructions Jesus gave his disciples before he sent them out in pairs to heal the sick, raise the dead and set the captives free. (no tall order then!) He tells them they will be welcomed by some, and they will be rejected by others. In other words, you know how it is chaps, some people will like you and some will really, really, not like you at all.

The word "welcome" occurs six times in these two verses that seemed an obvious choice for the focus of a sermon. There are two basic messages; welcoming others and welcoming Christ. I think that the two are inexplicably connected, like the two great commandments. We love God and we love our neighbour. We welcome Christ and we welcome even the "little ones" in his name. The ‘little ones’ in this setting are the disciples not necessarily tiny children.

The story of the stranger who is welcomed – or rejected and then turns out to be a divine visitor in disguise is to be found in several places in the Old Testament. There are the angelic figures who foretold the births of Isaac and of Samson; and the three strangers that visited Abraham at Mamree. There are several in the New Testament as well, the angel Gabriel foretelling the birth of Jesus and the angels in the empty tomb after the resurrection. In the letter to the Hebrews it says “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it”(Hebrews 13;2)

Angels come in many guises – not many in white gowns; But as the unexpected, the ordinary the easily missed.

Jesus chose a cup of cold water as an illustration for a reason. It was a Jewish tradition that if anyone came to your door, for whatever reason, you welcome them; usually with sweet cakes, olive oil and wine. But if you were very poor water would be offered. Not just any old water but cold water. This would not always be readily available in the house, it would mean a walk to the local well, which would require sacrifice; but it was what they could do – give refreshment to the needy. Jesus never asks us for more than we can give.

Jesus asked the Samarian woman by Jacobs well, ‘Can I have a drink of water please?’
Water, we either have too much or too little. Last winter we had rivers overflowing, floods, masses of rain water and all the reservoirs were full. Meanwhile we are reliably told that 700 million people worldwide face a severe water shortage. Suddenly a cup of water takes on a huge new significance and it becomes infinitely precious.

This passage is not only about giving as giving and welcoming go hand in hand with receiving – on that fateful Friday afternoon, his parched tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth Jesus gasped ‘I thirst’. One of his executioners, a Roman soldier was moved to compassion and put a sponge of sour wine on a stick and held it to Jesus lips, possibly because there was no water on Golgotha, or it might have been a taunt.

Often help comes from the most unexpected quarters. When we stumble and fall and someone comes to help, we do not ask their religion, their politics or even their name; we are simply grateful for their help. Thirsty people do not care where the water comes from – just that it comes.

The giving of a cup of cold water - the "small act" - is the stuff of which a holy life is made. Growth in discipleship and holiness is not to be found in a rare encounter with a prophet, even if you could find one. I suspect we would have to work really hard to have encounters with the truly righteous as well, but we will find discipleship and holiness in the thousands of small acts of kindness that make up the bulk of our lives.

The whole notion of welcoming and giving is fundamental to the Christian way of life and should be central in our church life – it begs the question for us this morning. How welcoming are we as individuals and as a Church/Benefice? This is a difficult challenge at present with the social distancing, but it will not always be with us.

Several years ago at a well known London church, the service was well underway when a young man walked in, he had long hair, torn jeans and bare feet. He looked for a seat but the church was full, he walked right down the aisle and got to the foot of the pulpit where the vicar was waiting to start the sermon, and he sat down cross-legged on the floor. The atmosphere in the church was electric. You could almost hear the thought processes – ‘what does he think he is doing’ – ‘isn’t somebody going to do something.’ At that point the sidesman began to walk from the back of the church towards the young man. He was in his eighties, wore a smart suit and walked very slowly. All that could be heard was the tapping of his stick on the floor. Relief was palpable, at last someone was doing something - the sideman walked right up to the young man, dropped his stick and very slowly lowered himself to the floor beside him. When he had pulled himself together enough to speak the vicar said, ‘you probably will not remember anything of my sermon this morning but you will never forget what you have just witnessed.’

It was of course the cup of cold water that Jesus had spoken about.

Like the original disciples, we are called to spread the good news of the kingdom of God, the good news of God’s love. What a privilege, what a responsibility? But talking about it isn’t enough – it needs to be put into practice. Jesus didn’t just preach about the Kingdom of heaven; he opened the door to it.

During the current pandemic we have seen countless acts of kindness, let us pray that these will continue and we will become a much more caring society, that out of the devastating consequences of the virus goodness will spread, and many cups of cold water will be offered.

A Cup of Cold Water

PALM SUNDAY

“Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it; as it is written.”

(John 12:14)

Every Breath You Take” by The Police was the biggest selling UK single of 1983 and is still well known. Yet despite the song’s huge popularity, its lyrics are commonly misunderstood. The singer, Sting, talks about watching the one he loves everywhere she goes. People have assumed this means he is so besotted with his lover that he simply cannot stop thinking about her, which is why the song has been played at many wedding receptions. But this is no happy love song. Sting was really describing an obsessive ex-lover stalking someone. Rather than being romantic, the lyrics are, in fact, extremely sinister.

Why is this song so commonly misunderstood? Possibly because people have failed to see the clues in the lyrics: they have not looked closely enough. They have allowed their preconceptions to prevent them seeing how different this song is from a normal love song.

Similarly Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem was misunderstood. The crowd, too, had preconceptions that prevented them from really understanding Jesus’ arrival. While they realised that he was claiming to be their long-awaited king, their Messiah, they made wrong assumptions about what kind of king he would be.

Jerusalem was packed with Jews from all over the country, who had come to celebrate Passover, and many had heard of Jesus and his miracles. Jesus arrived on a donkey as a sign that he was the Messiah for, as John makes clear, this fulfilled Old Testament scripture about the coming saviour (Zechariah 9:9). The crowds clearly understood that Jesus was claiming to be their king. They shouted out verses from Psalm 118, a psalm associated with the arrival of the Messiah who would come to save them. Indeed Hosanna means “save now”. The waving of palm branches was also something done to celebrate the arrival of an important person.

Despite this rapturous reception, many who shouted “Hosanna” would soon be calling for Jesus to be crucified. Why this change? Because they came to realise that Jesus was not the kind of Messiah they had been expecting. They were looking for a warrior king who would lead them into battle against their Roman oppressors. They had missed the clue in Jesus’ entry – his arrival on a donkey rather than a war horse. He was coming in peace to save them from their sins, not to fight against the Romans.

The crowds would soon turn on Jesus because he did not go about things in the way they had expected. We may have little sympathy for the crowd, but we all have times when we think we know better than God and are frustrated when things do not go how we expect, especially when we have been praying for something that does not happen. Surely it would be better if we had got that job, or had more money, or did not have to go through troubles, we might think.

The crowd, too, had opinions on what was best. They supported Christ when he first arrived in Jerusalem because they thought he would give them what they wanted and be a warrior who would overthrow their enemies. Yet God knew what they really needed was a saviour who would sacrifice himself for their sin. Just as we can see that God’s salvation plan is better than the desires of the crowd, so we can trust that God’s ways of doing things are the best for us too.

Corrie Ten Boom, who suffered in a German concentration camp, used the illustration of a tapestry to encourage us, as Christians, to keep on trusting God even when we do not understand what God is doing in our lives. From our limited perspective our lives often look like the back of a tapestry – messy and purposeless. Yet on the other side of that tapestry will be a beautiful picture formed from all those seemingly random threads. This is God’s perspective. God sees the whole picture and is working purposely in our lives. Let’s not be like the crowd who wanted things their own way. Instead, may we pray for the faith to trust that our heavenly Father knows best.

A Homily for Palm Sunday

Third Sunday after Trinity Matthew 10: 40-42

A prophet, a righteous person, and little ones - sounds like the beginning of a joke. I have sometimes wondered about this passage from Matthew's Gospel. Is this a descending order? Do these actions and people start at the top, as it were, and then work their way down? Is the prophet worth more than the righteous man or are they on equal footing? Or is this the other way round, the story building up to the point where you can see the glory in giving a cup of cold water to the little ones as actually the high point in the story? I have a sneaking suspicion that most people will have difficulty realizing that such small acts as a cup of water actually has eternal significance.

These two verses come at the end of the lengthy instructions Jesus gave his disciples before he sent them out in pairs to heal the sick, raise the dead and set the captives free! He tells them they will be welcomed by some, and they will be rejected by others. In other words, you know how it is chaps, some people will like you and some will really, really, not like you at all.

That word "welcome" comes up 6 times in these two verses that it would also seem an obvious choice for the focus of a sermon. There are two basic messages; welcoming others and welcoming Christ. I think that the two are inexplicably connected, like the two great commandments. We love God and we love our neighbour. We welcome Christ and we welcome even the "little ones" in his name. The ‘little ones’ in this setting are the disciples not necessarily teeny children!

The story of the stranger who is welcomed – or rejected and then turns out to be a divine visitor in disguise is to be found in several places in the Old Testament. There is the angelic figures who foretell the births of Isaac and of Samson; and the three strangers that visited Abraham at Mamree. There are several in the New Testament as well and the writer of the letter to the Hebrews says ‘ Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it’ (Hebrews 13;2) I could at this point branch off to talk about angels. As you will know by now, I love angels and am a firm believer in same, although I think I am in a minority. Angels come in many guises – not many in white nighties with blonde hair and blue eyes; But as the unexpected, the ordinary the easily missed. BUT to hastily move on.

Jesus chose a cup of cold water as an illustration for a reason. It was Jewish tradition that if anyone came to your door, for whatever reason, you welcome them; usually with sweet cakes, olive oil and wine. But if you were very poor water would be offered. Not just any old water but cold water. This would not always be readily available in the house, it would require a walk to the local well, which would require sacrifice; but it was what they could do – give refreshment to the needy. Jesus never asks us for more than we can give.
Jesus asked the Samarian woman by Jacobs well, ‘Can I have a drink of water please?’
Water, we either have too much or too little, our weather gives us an example in this area. We are either in drought situations with the threat of hose pipe bans or we are awash with the stuff. Last winter we had rivers overflowing, floods, masses of rain water and all the reservoirs were full. Meanwhile there as still hundreds of African and other remote villages do not even have a well, let alone rain water. We are reliably told that 700 million people worldwide face a severe water shortage. Suddenly a cup of water takes on a huge new significance and it becomes infinitely precious.

This passage is not only about giving, as giving and welcoming go hand in hand with receiving – on that fateful Friday afternoon, his parched tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth he gasped ‘I thirst’. One of his executioners, a Roman soldier was moved to compassion and put a sponge of vinegar on a stick and held it to Jesus lips.

Often help comes from the most unexpected quarters, maybe it is those angels again. When we stumble and fall and someone comes to help, we do not ask their religion, their politics or even their name; we are simply grateful for their help. Thirsty people do not care where the water comes from – just that it comes.

One thing, which keeps coming back to my mind, is the notion that the giving of the cup of cold water - the "small act" - is the stuff of which a holy life is made. Growth in discipleship and holiness is not to be found in a rare encounter with a prophet, even if you could find one. I suspect you would have to work really hard to have encounters with the truly righteous as well, but you will find discipleship and holiness in the thousands of small acts and decisions that make up the bulk of our lives.

The whole notion of welcoming and giving is fundamental to the Christian way of life and should be central in our church life – it begs the question for us this morning. How much of a welcoming Church/Benefice are we?

At a well known London church, the service was well underway when a young man walked in, he had long hair, torn jeans and bare feet. He looked for a seat but the church was full, he walked right down the aisle and got to the foot of the pulpit where the vicar was waiting to start the sermon, and he sat down cross-legged on the carpet. The atmosphere in the church was electric. You could almost hear the thought processes – ‘what does he think he is doing’ – ‘isn’t somebody going to do something.’ At that point the sides man began to walk from the back of the church towards the young man. He was in his eighties, wore a smart suit and walked very slowly. All that could be heard was the tapping of his stick on the floor. Relief was palpable, at last someone was doing something - the sides man walked right up to the young man, dropped his stick and very slowly lowered himself to the floor beside the young man. When he had pulled himself together enough to speak the vicar said, you probably will not remember anything of my sermon this morning but you will never forget what you have just witnessed.

A cup of cold water.

Like the original disciples, we are called to spread the good news of the kingdom of God, the good news of God’s love. What a privilege, what a responsibility? But talking about it isn’t enough – it needs to be put into practice. In a few moments in this Eucharist we remember that Jesus didn’t just preach about the Kingdom of heaven; he opened the door to it.

Here, in Jesus, is the word of God, love in action – all we have to do is pass it on.

A cup of cold water

Today we celebrate All Saints Day. When St. Paul writes his letter to the Church at Ephesus, he addresses it to ‘the saints at Ephesus’. When he writes to the Church at Corinth, it is to those ‘called to be saints.’ So, if St. Paul was here, talking to you now, he would be calling you ‘the saints at Repps, Martham, Clippesby and Thurne.’ That would make you think, wouldn’t it? Do you see yourselves as saints faithful to Jesus Christ in Repps or Martham or Clippesby or Thurne? Perhaps the first question we need to ask ourselves today is what exactly does it mean to be a saint – what are the characteristics of sainthood?

Well, perhaps it’s easier first of all to say what they are not. They are not about observing all the rules of morality and living a blameless life. Saints, from the apostles onwards, have had a sense of their own need for forgiveness and of God’s mercy. We can take heart – they were not perfect people! St. Jean-Pierre de Caussade gives this rule as governing the lives of the saints –
‘Leave the past to the infinite mercy of God, the future to his good providence; give the present wholly to his love by being faithful to his grace.’

That’s actually hugely good advice, because from the moment we can start to throw ourselves freely and gladly on the goodness of God – with no side-glances towards our own perceived merits, because they do not in any way qualify us for this acceptance or for sainthood – at that moment when pride dissolves into humility, self-righteousness into submission, envy into gladness for another’s joy, then our journey to sainthood has truly begun. Martin Luther wrote that ‘As men without anything at all, we must wait for the pure mercy of God.’

Saints are characterised by their awareness that the depth of God’s mercy and compassion is beyond our capacity to understand. ‘As a handful of sand thrown into the ocean’ writes St. Isaac of Syria, ‘so are the sins of all flesh as compared with the mind of God.’ That’s very reassuring! God’s compassion, St. Isaac goes on to tell us, can never be outdone by the greatness of human sin. This experience of forgiveness and renewal gives to the saints a deep compassion for other people. Julian of Norwich says that this compassion for others is a hallmark of Christ’s indwelling. She tells us that a judgemental attitude will harm us, for ‘Looking at another’s sin clouds the eyes of the soul, hiding for the time being the fair beauty of God’. We must only look on the sinner with sincere and genuine compassion. Julian paints a beautiful picture of God looking on us, His servants, not with blame, but with pity, and she exhorts us not to look backwards in self-recrimination, but to forgive ourselves as God forgives us.

St. Teresa of Avila reminds us that this sure knowledge of God’s forgiveness and compassion should make us willingly and instantly forgiving of others. She says (as a saint would, of course) ‘we forgive out of the fullness of the knowledge of our own infirmities...’
The attitude of forgiveness in the saints is but a reflection of God’s own forgiving love. All love begins with God; our love is but a response. We love Him because He first loved us.

Another characteristic of saints is that they don’t do things by halves. You only have to listen to our Gospel reading this morning to see that – Jesus exhorts us to give everything to God and to our fellow human beings and not to hold back. Brother Lawrence, who advocated spending the whole of life living consciously in the presence of God, says that we do not have to change our daily work in order to be saved, but we have to do it for God’s sake rather than for our own. Martin Luther wrote in a similar vein, saying that it doesn’t matter how insignificant the work we do is, even mundane household tasks become a service to God when offered to him and done in His name.

My last characteristic of sainthood is the spirit of joy. This is a very different quality to happiness. Happiness speaks of success, satisfaction or prosperity. Joy is a fruit of the spirit. It doesn’t depend on circumstances, although I have to admit that there are circumstances in which being joyful is pretty difficult! However, whilst happiness may depend on the weather, our bank balance or the opinion of others, joy should transcend these variations in our fortunes. It stems from the peace of mind and spirit that comes from doing God’s will and being in a right relationship with Him. It is God’s gift.

Of course, some saints are very well known like St. Peter and St. Paul, but saints didn’t just live long ago – we can all think of good and holy people who we know, but who will never be well-known. In a society that fawns on celebrities, in which merely to be known matters more than being known for anything particularly good, it’s important that we deliberately give thanks for those hidden saints who have influenced and enriched our own lives and the life of our church and our community.

November, which begins on Tuesday, is traditionally the month for remembering the souls of the departed, those who have gone before us, and as we approach Remembrance Day there will be the familiar photos in the media of the rows upon rows of graves in the war cemeteries of Europe, North Africa and Japan. The veritable sea of headstones is a terrible reminder of the carnage of 2 world wars, as well as those conflicts in more recent memory, and those that continue today. But one thing is strikingly common to all these cemeteries. In the midst of the lines of graves is one simple but stately stone cross lifted up above them. What does it say? It says that these men and women whose bodies lie beneath the earth are not lost, that there is hope for them all of life on the other side of death, not because they were uncommonly good people, most were not, but because Christ who was made man, died and rose again for us all, because He came down to earth to lift us up.

The single-minded quest for sanctity is probably easier for monks or nuns than for those of us living ‘in the world’ as it were. It’s hard to concentrate wholly on the pursuit of holiness when you are struggling to cope with the multiple commitments of home, family, work and pulling your weight on the PCC! But, don’t despair, you can still sometimes glimpse a saint in the Benefice of Martham, Repps, Thurne and Clippesby. Believe me!
Amen.

All Saints Day 2016

Second Sunday of Lent
Luke 13;31-end

Has anyone ever given you suspicious advice? Maybe someone who you know doesn’t like you, or who just doesn’t know you well at all, tries to give you advice like you are the best of friends. Should you take their advice, or not? With some people, you never know their real motivations. With others, experience teaches us not to take them at their word.

Our passage from Luke today opens with some advice from a strange source. Some Pharisees come up to Jesus and seem concerned. The approach Jesus and tell him, “You should get out of here, Herod wants to kill you.” No surprise here. This was the Herod we heard about around Christmas, the King that had slaughtered thousands of babies trying to prevent the birth of the Messiah. From all the Gospel accounts, we know that Herod, this coward, this puppet ruler who oppresses his own people on behalf of Rome, is no friend of Jesus. It couldn’t have been a surprise to Jesus that Herod was plotting against him. But why would the Pharisees warn Jesus?

This is really suspicious advice. The Pharisees, the Jewish teachers of law, community leaders, actively opposed the ministry of Jesus. They were scared of his miracles. Perplexed at his teachings. Most of all, they were angry – angry and shocked – that so many people were drawn to this carpenter turned Rabbi. So it should strike us as odd that in our passage today we see Pharisees of all people trying to warn Jesus of danger.

But if you look at the context of this passage I think we get an idea about where this odd warning comes from. Just before this in chapter 13 of Luke’s gospel, Jesus was teaching about salvation. He tells the people to enter through what he calls “the narrow door,” that not all who wish to enter will be able to. He concludes this teaching by saying, “Some who are last will be first, and some who are first will be last.” In other words, not everyone you expect will receive God’s mercy. It’s a scary passage for anyone. It had to be frightening for the Pharisees, the professional religious folks. You’ve heard that old advice that says, “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?“ Well, the Pharisees followed that. They saw Jesus as their enemy, and though they didn’t like him, they didn’t ignore him. And so they were close by when Jesus said, “Some of those who are first will be last.” Now, all of a sudden, the Pharisees discover some concern for Jesus’ safety?! No it is just too convenient. I’m sure Jesus saw through them. He isn’t impressed with the false concern of Pharisees, or by Herod’s anger. He even challenges the Pharisees to take a message back to Herod. He tells them, “Go and tell that fox, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’” Jesus wants Herod to know that his threats will not deter his mission and he will not be frightened into submission by a petty king.

“Go and tell that fox!” This isn’t a gentle, meek and mild Jesus who floats on the clouds and whispers nice things to us. Luke shows us that Jesus had an edge to him. Why does Jesus call Herod a fox? Because he saw him with the same reputation for cunning, for sneakiness, and trickery.

We see this reflected in many stories that have been handed down to us over the centuries, especially in some of Aesop’s fables. Jesus knows who Herod is, and he lets everyone know that this deceiver will not stand in the way of the work the Father has given him. He will continue his work of healing and preaching, proclaiming the Kingdom, until the third day, and then he will be on his way to Jerusalem. As we continue on our own Lenten journey towards Easter, we see this as a foreshadowing of the three days Jesus would spend in the tomb.

After Jesus sends this message, he begins a lament for Jerusalem, a prayer of mourning and sadness. Jerusalem stands for all of God’s people whom He desires. Jesus sounds a word of both hope and warning. This is a word of judgment that changes to a message of Jesus’ longing for his people. He continues, “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

Many of us probably are not used or comfortable with female images for God. Those of us who have read The Shack have had our images and ideas about God challenged. Jesus compares himself to a mother hen gathering her chicks under her wings. Hens are known to be protective. There is a story of a hen house that burned down. When the farmer went in he found a hen with feathers singed by the fire’s heat, her neck limp. As he picked up the dead hen, four chicks came scurrying out from beneath her burnt body. The chicks survived because they were insulated by the shelter of her wings, protected and saved even as she died to protect and save them.

That is the story of Jesus. Jesus is that mother hen who longs to gather his children under his wings, but he says that Jerusalem is not willing for this is the city that kills prophets.

The story is not over yet. Jesus says, “You will not see me again until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’” This is almost exactly the chant that the people will give, waving palm branches as he enters Jerusalem in the coming days. Jesus knows Jerusalem is the city that will kill him but he is going there anyway. As the mother hen enveloped her young under her wings, Jesus will hang with arms outstretched, saving all who are willing to receive his mercy.

So once again this Lent we walk with him until the appointed time when we rejoice in the resurrection.

All-encompassing love

6th After Trinity Matthew 13:24-43

The first thing this parable teaches us, is that good and evil will always be found together in the professing Church, until the end of time. The Church is a mixed bunch, a vast "field" in which "wheat and weeds" grow side by side. We must expect to find believers and unbelievers, "the children of the kingdom, and the children of the wicked one," all mingled together in every congregation in every church.

It has been like this for as long as the church has existed. It was the experience of the early church Fathers. It was the experience of the Reformers. It is the experience of the best ministers at this moment in time. There has never been a Church where there is all "wheat." The devil, that great enemy of souls, has always taken care to sow some "weeds."
Today’s parable like last week is about sower and seeds, but the focus is not about the crop but about an evil one who slipped into a farmer’s field under the cover of darkness and sowed weeds among the wheat. As the wheat began to grow, weeds popped up with it. When the farmhands saw the weeds they were puzzled, so they said to the farmer, “Master, didn’t you sow good seed in this field? Where did these weeds come from?” The farmer said “an enemy has done this.” The farmhands quickly volunteer to come to the rescue. “We will straighten things out, come on chaps let’s pull out those weeds!” “Hang on” said the farmer. “That won’t work. If you pull out the weeds, you will pull up the wheat along with it. Let them grow together until harvest. Then, I’ll send out the reapers with the instructions to bind the weeds in bundles to be burned and to gather the wheat for the barn.”

This parable comes with an attached interpretation. Jesus explains that the one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man. The good seed represents the children of the kingdom and the weeds are the children of the Devil. At the end of the age, the angels will collect all causes of sin and evildoers and toss them into the fire, then the righteous will shine like the sun in God’s kingdom. Well that sounds OK doesn’t it? it is very clear cut. There is good and there is evil. There is the good young man, Harry Potter and there is the evil wizard Lord Voldemort. There is Luke Skywalker and there is Darth Vader, Batman and the Joker, Cowboys in white hats and Gunslingers in black hats. We know this story. It is obvious who is wheat and who is weed. The wheat is the church and the weeds are those who fail to believe in Jesus Christ. I could stop here – but it is not as clear cut as that. As I said in the beginning we are a mixed bunch, and it is NOT up to any of us to decide who is wheat and who is weed.

Just look at the church’s family tree. Noah was a drunk; Abraham was too old; Isaac was a daydreamer; Jacob was a liar; Leah was ugly; Joseph was abused; Moses had a stuttering problem; Gideon was afraid; Samson was a womanizer; Rahab was a prostitute; David had an affair and was a murderer; Elijah was suicidal; Isaiah preached naked; Jonah ran from God; Job went bankrupt; John the Baptist ate bugs; Peter denied Christ; The Disciples fell asleep while praying; Martha worried about everything; The Samaritan woman was divorced, more than once; Zaccheus was too small; Paul was too religious; and Timothy’s anxiety gave him an ulcer. Nobody is perfect. Someone said they would not come to church because it is full of hypocrites; that is true but there is always room for one more! Augustine said, "Those who are weeds today may be wheat tomorrow, or even the reverse.”

That is why Jesus taught us to pray, “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil”. This is a cautionary parable, warning us to beware of the weed pulling impulse – the moral need to improve the field based on our own limited judgement. That is why the farmer stopped the workers from pulling the weeds, for he knows our judgement is often faulty. Rather than pulling out weeds Jesus sought them out; rather than condemning them, he transformed them, he healed the sick, found the lost and extended forgiveness, turning people’s lives around.

The Russian write and winner of the Nobel Prize in literature, Alexander Solzhenitsyn, was arrested, sent to a forced labour camp in Siberia and eventually exiled from the Soviet Union. He witnessed cruel acts and experienced harsh punishment. He could have written about clear distinctions between people who were good and people who were evil, but instead he wrote these words. “Gradually it was disclosed to me that the line separating good and evil does not pass through social class or political parties but through the human heart. There are weeds lurking in the best of us and wheat to be discovered in the worst of us.

May we all resist the temptation to rush to judgement, knowing that God can burn away the weeds in each of us and harvest what is good in all of us.

Allow the weeds and wheat to grow together

5th Sunday of Lent
John 12: 1-8

There’s much that is recorded in John’s Gospel that is not as it first appears to be, much that is mysterious, ambiguous, unsettling. Our reading from John 12 however, opens with Jesus attending a meal, and what could be more straightforward than that?

Indeed, while there were a lot of strange and wonderful things about Jesus, one very ordinary thing about Him was that He had to eat! And while he was able to speak in a way that others couldn’t speak and pray in a way that got results others didn’t get and perform miracles in a way that others just couldn’t, it appears that when it came to eating and drinking, He was exactly like the rest of us.

Even so, with Jesus you come to expect the unexpected, and the presence of Lazarus at the table with Jesus that night should serve as a tip-off that nothing could remain stable for too long with Jesus in the room.

Lazarus, you may remember, had been dead only a few days earlier - so dead in fact that when Jesus asked for the stone to be rolled back from the tomb, the ever-practical Martha said, "but Lord, he stinketh!" (King James Version). Now it appears he stinketh no more but instead has a hearty appetite and is sitting at the table with the family.

And you will remember, the reaction of the religious authorities to this amazing miracle? Did they hold a party in Jesus’ honour? Did they organise a ceremony and give Him the key to the city? Did they proclaim a day of prayer and thanksgiving for the wonderful new things that God was doing in their midst? Of course not. Rather, we are told, it was the Lazarus incident that made them resolve to kill Jesus.

We have walked this path before, but I suspect that there may still be some of us who find it hard to believe that the religious establishment could get in a murderous rage over the wonderful gift of new life to Lazarus. After all, isn’t that what we religious people are on about - healing, forgiveness and new life?

Religion is ‘the opiate of the masses’, as Karl Marx put it. It keeps people in their place and helps them to transfer any frustrations they might have with the government to their inward struggles with guilt and sin.

You can’t have charismatic preachers like Jesus moving about and functioning completely outside of the accepted religious rules, destabilising society and challenging the accepted order by preaching on hillsides and raising dead people.

We look for a quiet, peaceful life, with predictability and order, where nothing can be lost that is not insured, and where every mishap is balanced by an appropriate form of compensation, where people know who they are and where they belong, where lepers stay in their lovely leper colonies that we built for them, and where Aunt Sally, as much as we all loved her, stays in the ground where we put her!

The role of religion in society now is to provide stability and comfort in an often chaotic world, but not the religion Jesus practiced. He is not quite the ‘Prince of Peace’ that we might have thought He was, for every time He enters a scene, there is always ensuing conflict. It doesn’t take long at this dinner party before the chaos breaks out. This time through the actions of Mary, pouring the perfume Nard which was a ludicrously expensive jar of perfume usually saved to be used at your funeral, over Jesus’ feet, and then wiping His feet with her hair.

In the house of Mary and Martha and Lazarus, we see Mary’s strange yet wonderful act at the table, where there was a bizarre blend of friendship and love, life and death with the erotic and the domestic.

Suddenly Judas says, "Why wasn’t this perfume sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor", and we perk up, because that is probably what we might have said.

What are we doing, spending all this money on a church restoration project, when there are still thousands dying each day of starvation, and when the young people of our own area are still in such great need of support?

If only life were that simple, but things are not always as they appear. Judas, who seems to care about the poor, doesn’t really care at all, whereas Jesus, who appears somewhat nonchalant in His response, "The poor you will always have with you", we know he really does care.

It is easy to misunderstand Mary’s act as it can be interpreted in a number of ways. At one level she is simply washing and perfuming Jesus’ feet, but at another level, Jesus tells us, she is in fact preparing Him for His burial.

I could conclude this sermon with a simple "and the moral of this story is ..." ending. That would not be doing justice to the mysterious nature of this event.

Jesus said, "you will not always have me with you", telling of his impending death and resurrection. But what does that mean to us who have the benefit of 20/20 hindsight? For surely he is always with us. A fact that is built into almost every sermon I preach.

There is one thing that is totally unambiguous in this story - one thing that is entirely obvious and not open to interpretation, and that is found, not in the words but in the actions of Mary, which were unambiguously an act of love.

Mary loved Jesus, and as she throws herself at the feet of Jesus, washes, perfumes and massages him, we see clearly just how much she loves Him. She broke the bottle, no intention of putting the stopper back and saving some for later. She emptied all she had on his feet - unselfconsciously, perhaps even shamelessly, for a woman to let her hair down in public was scandalous.

Mary pours herself out in sacrificial love for Jesus, just as He prepares to pour Himself out for her and for us on the cross. Her act anticipates His act. Her love is a foreshadowing of His love.

While the words of those who sat around that table are open to interpretation, her love is unambiguous. She showed it with her generosity, with hands and with her hair.

It is probably a myth, but I remember being told of a vicar who took the offertory plate one Sunday morning, held it up and prayed "regardless of what we say about you, this is what we truly think of you. Amen."

I don’t know if that is true, but what is true is that it is acts of love and devotion, rather than mere words, that show where our heart truly is. We know the heart of this woman through her act of love, just as we know the heart of Christ through His cross. Which begs the question what about our heart?

I end with the words of Jesus – Where your treasure is there will your heart be.

An Act of Sacrificial Love

(Repps)