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March 2016

March 9th 2016: Hebrews 10:1-18

You can follow today’s reading by clicking on this sentence.

‘I will remember their sins and lawless deeds no more’

Today’s is one of the most amazing passages in the whole of Scripture (in my opinion). Jesus gave a single offering for all sin, which was sufficient to satisfy the demands of justice. The law of love wins! All the offering and sacrificing we can do will not ever lead us to freedom, Jesus’s gift to us is the only thing that can do that.

And not only that, as the quote at the top of this post says, God promises that he will put sins and lawless deeds out of his mind. He will not remember them. This seems entirely contrary. I keep a record of my own wrongs, even though I shouldn’t. More than this, I am bad at keeping a record of the wrongs of others. Am I loving them? When we find ourselves living in times when injustice is meted out to the poor on an institutional scale and every reading of a news article’s ‘under the line’ comments section indicates a national hardening of heart towards those who are in need, there is a rising within me of a desire for justice (which I think is good) as well as a desire for the restoration for balance (still good, I think) and finally a desire for some kind of redress (this is where it gets bad, I think). We are to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with God. If, at any point I find myself claiming that I am less in need of the grace and mercy of God than those who vote for or implement unjust laws, those whose opinions I disagree with, however strongly, claiming that those things are more sinful and in need of mercy than I am, then I deceive myself.

We live in times when it is all too easy to be fearful. Just look at the political leadership situations in most of the most powerful nations of the world. But God is my light and my salvation, whom then shall I fear? We have a God who could remember our sins and lawless deeds, who could count them against us, who could do anything he likes at any moment. He chooses grace and mercy. Let’s do the same today.

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March 2016

March 2nd 2016: Hebrews 6:13-20

You can follow today’s reading by clicking on this sentence.

‘…a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul’.

Time and time again with these pieces, I find myself drawn to the unchangeable truths of the promises of God found in scripture as opposed to the entirely changeable nature of my feelings and emotional responses to them. Again we find ourselves here today. The truth of the good news of Jesus Christ is that his victory enables him to be ‘a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul’. If I am find in and with him, I am surely and steadfastly in the place I need to be, and I can live from there. If I do not accept that Jesus is a sure and steadfast anchor, because of things that happen, how I feel about them, mistakes I make, thoughts I have which are more refined and evolved than those expressed in scripture, then I am not stepping beyond God. Instead, I am making my life, and the life of faith, more complicated than it actually is, was meant to be, or ever should be. We all need something, or someone to hold on to. Jesus is that something and that someone. It is simple. It is not complicated. He is sure and steadfast. I have never found anything else that is. And I’ve looked. Hard.

My anchor will hold in the storms of life, because my anchor is not me, it is Jesus. He can be yours too. Just ask him. Do it. Today

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February 2016

February 27th 2016: Hebrews 4:1-13

You can follow today’s reading by clicking on this sentence.

I’ve often wondered about what kind of mood the writer of Hebrews was in when this letter was written. There’s just a sense to it of negativity and worry that I don’t perceive in a lot of the rest of the New Testament. Everything is cautious, tempered, careful. And so I wonder, how does how we are feeling about things change how we talk about God? ‘Salvation’  looks very different when things are going well, I suggest, compared to  what it looks like when everything we are is threatened, even though ‘being saved’ and what that entails actually remains the same. We have an unchanging God, but our perspectives, our language, our experiences, these must change. For them to stay the same is, potentially at least, to deny that the ‘living and active’ element of his word, and his Word, Jesus. We can’t be made new, transformed by each encounter with the Spirit, and yet simultaneously remain the same. This is not feasible. Similarly, it seems to me that one of the main points of a life of faith is to be open to the Spirit’s prodding to the broadening of horizons and thoughts, so that we able to see and acknowledge more of God, his glory, and share it with those around us.

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Uncategorized

February 26th 2016: Hebrews 3:7-19

You can follow today’s reading by clicking on this sentence.

‘Today if you hear his voice, Do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion.’

I wonder, are you someone who hears God speak audibly to you? Some people say it happens to them all the time. To my knowledge, it’s happened to me only once in my life, but that once was a life-altering experience I may write about here another time. God speaks in a variety of ways: audibly, through scripture, through other people, quite often, it seems to me, through people who make no claim at all to follow his way, but speak through them he definitely does anyway.

So, we could hear God’s voice often, if we are ready for it. Are we ready for it? Are we expecting him to speak? What if it’s in a way that we’ve not experienced before? Will we be open to hearing, listening and responding? It can feel so unlikely, at points in our lives, that God might speak, that when he does, we’ve already decided the way we want to go. For whatever reason, sometimes seemingly for very good reasons, our hearts have hardened. We’ve stopped recognising that we need God. We’ve stopped acknowledging him. He’s been relegated to a part of our lives we go to when it suits us, and instead we exist in our own kind of regal splendour, making our own decisions, living just as we want to. Sometimes we might do good. Sometimes we might do right, but things are decidedly out of order.

God is speaking to us. Are we listening?

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February 2016

February 18th 2016: Galatians 5:2-15

You can follow today’s reading by clicking on this sentence.

‘…but through love become slaves to one another.’

It’s a big challenge this one. I’ve been wondering recently, how much of a sacrifice for the sake of the Church I’m part of leading is enough? Would it be where I live? The hours I put in? The parts of my life which shrink to accommodate it? The songs I lead? The things I teach on and the things I don’t?

And then a sentence like this one pops up.

We’re not called to relationship with God and one another for anything other than to serve one another. I am to serve the people I lead, as I seek to serve God, giving back to him from the abundance that he gives to me. That, as they say, is the whole ball game.

Not to say I don’t have to look after myself. Members of Emmanuel have been telling me for quite some time now that I need to look after myself, take care of myself, but I am also called, by Love, to do the sacrificial things, the difficult things, the frustrating things, as well as the joyful, the life-giving and the exciting things, that best serve my community, as the transforming power of the Spirit works in me, just as it does in others.

 

 

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February 2016

February 1st 2016: Matthew 27:11-26

You can follow today’s reading by clicking on this sentence.

I talk too much. Especially under pressure. Especially when I’m under pressure and I think that the pressure being placed upon me is unjust, or has put me in danger, even the kind of danger that will end up with me looking stupid. I’ve never been in the position of having to defend myself for the sake of saving my life. I’ll be bluntly honest here and say I hope I never will be either. I can’t even begin to imagine what that would be like. Much is made of Jesus’s silence as he stands before Pilate here. He gives nothing away. He does not identify himself, he is not charged with anything, he does not accept or deny anything. He just is. In this moment of almost complete powerlessness, when the very real temptation to seek a way out must have been somewhere nearby, light shone simply by accepting what was to come.

What can I learn from this? I want to be less defensive. I want to be more positive. I want to be more aware, more confident in who I am, because of who God is and what Jesus did in going through this event and what was to follow. I want to keep things simple. I want to think and worry less. I want to be where I am and let God bring about what God is bringing about, even if it’s only through my obedience.

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Faith

The Seduction of Difference

This is a tentative post. I know I’m not much known for being tentative in what I have to say. Sometimes it would probably help me if I was a bit more restrained. That said, what I am sharing this morning has been on my mind for a number of weeks and it just won’t go away, so, in a sense, I need to write it, even if you don’t need to read it. That’s most of the reason people write and say things anyway isn’t it, the faintly ridiculous conception that what we have in our minds is so crucial, so necessary for the future of mankind that we have to get it out immediately. I’m fairly sure that most of my opinions, including this one, have been written and talked about by other people in the past. They must have been. After all, if nothing else, theological college taught me there’s no such thing as an original thought. So, with various caveats in place, and having lowered your expectations of the quality of this piece sufficiently, here goes…

I think as a society we have fallen for something which I’m grandly (see, it is capitalised, that makes it grand) calling The Seduction of Difference. Just this morning, I heard UKIP’s Health Spokeswoman (apparently they have one, although it has to be said it sounded as if she’d just got in from a heavy night out) declaiming loudly that we don’t want “Health Tourism”. “We” in this case is us, you and me, right-thinking British people, unsullied by foreign genes or history, unless they “add” something to society (the “adding” is a nebulous concept. I think we all get to collectivise together and decide just how much “adding” is sufficient in order to pass go, collect £200 – but not Universal Credit, oh no not that for Johnny Immigrant, unless they pass a test, which we set, naturally – and keep Pall Mall to ourselves). We wouldn’t give a Work Visa to someone with a pre-existing health condition. Nobody wants this. Apparently. Well, I for one have never thought about it, but on reflection, as I sit here with my pre-existing health condition (the mind boggles at what a post-existing health condition might be, I suppose that’s death, unless we’re being eschatological this morning) I am not sure that I want to be disqualified from anything simply on the basis that my health might have some impact on my productivity, should I ever wish to emigrate. That day marches ever closer. House for Duty Priest in the Bahamas I’m looking at your job description.

So far so flippant. But is it?  You see, it is logical to say that someone who doesn’t “add” to society shouldn’t find a welcome in it. After all, if they’re foreign, they have a society of their own. Apart from those who are fleeing persecution, genocide or other things like that. Seems to me they are of no fixed societal abode. But where does it stop? If we keep out those who are not indigenously British, and have a pre-existing health condition, isn’t it logical to extend the exclusion to those who are British and have one? After all times are hard for the economy. We all pay our taxes. We don’t want our taxes to support anyone but us. We don’t want to consider ourselves a society, least of all a compassionate one. It’s survival of the fittest dontcha know. And any time it feels like we might not be the fittest, the goalposts must be moved, so that we can feel good about ourselves again. Until our world becomes so small, so inward-looking, our perspective so warped, that we consider ourselves the centre of the universe, and all other people merely irritations in our glorious orbit.

Fortunately I’m a Hard Working Man, from a Hard Working Family. Some days I think I might count as a Real Person (seriously, that’s a slogan being used in the election rhetoric. What’s an Unreal Person? Boris?) so I’ll probably be ok, but we’re on a slippery slope that I’ve written and spoken about before. We are Seduced by Difference. We are fearful of the other. We want to protect ourselves, more than caring for the poor (who will always be with us, someone famous said that once). We want to protect ourselves, only seeing others flourish if we can flourish along with them, or at least on their coat-tails. We are told we deserve this. We are told, therefore, that anything that stops us flourishing must be quashed, squashed, eradicated. Scared of homeless people? Ignore them. Want an excuse for your  lack of contentment? We’ll find one. It’ll probably be economic. Want a vision for a better, brighter future? We don’t really have one of those.

Except we do. Some of us at least. We just celebrated Easter. The recognition that someone who was so radical, so different, so uncontrollable that the authorities of the day had him killed, changed the world, the entire course of human history. Jesus stood up to the injustices meted out against humanity and defeated them. He also took the consequences of any just judgement which might be counted against us. He did this so that we, you and I, might have life, have it to the full (what an idea), and that we might share that life with others. Sure, Christians bang on about eternal life all the time, but what’s the good of that? Well, in my opinion, eternal life starts now. We’re called to a life of holy improvisation. God has shown us how to live. We’re to love him with everything we have, whatever that looks like for each of us. We are to love others, putting them before ourselves, to be a compassionate society, to suffer with those who suffer and rejoice with those who rejoice. What would society look like if we did that? If we committed to the “other” in the full and certain knowledge that we are exactly the same “other” to someone else. What would it be like if we drew that “other” closer, rather than pushing them away? If we were brave, believing that all people are of equal value, regardless of ability or lack of it, economic contribution, education, ability for self-knowledge and awareness or lack of it.

After all, what makes us human? It is that God pursues us as his beloved creation, constantly, consistently and without reservation. He did this to the extent that he died for us. He didn’t die for us that we might impose strictures on anyone else, elevate ourselves above them so that we feel like we have power or authority which has been ours all along. No, God calls us to a radical kind of self-love which has at its core an awareness that without God, and without others, we are not ok. It is only when we love God and others that we can truly love ourselves, because we see ourselves in the context of God’s passionate love for us. We are important, because he says so. So is everybody else. Because he says so.

So health tourism? What nonsense. Oh for a nation which puts the needs of others before its own. A nation that truly understands what a privilege life is, so much so that it shares that privilege as widely as it possibly can. Let’s not live fearfully. Let’s not vote fearfully. Let’s hope and pray for local and national leaders who rise above the petty, the soundbite and who ignore the temptation to score cheap points with policies bred on fear, which only spread its power.

So it’s not about me. It’s not about you. It’s about us. What are we going to do to share life, love and hope together? That’s a question worth asking, and answering in the way that we live our lives, today and tomorrow. A day is coming when there will be no more tears, no more pain, no more suffering, no more death. It is. Honest. I know it doesn’t feel or seem like it, but it is. In the meantime, we have God, the Holy Spirit to be our friend, guide, counsellor. We have ourselves, and we have each other. I’m more confident standing with you than against you. Can we do that? Can we stand together?

 

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2014 Lectionary Ramblings Lectionary Ramblings

August 10th 2014: 1 Kings 19:9-18 and Matthew 14:12-22

In a slight change to what I’ve been doing with this so far, I thought that today I’d give you my sermon notes for this morning to read. Hopefully this what I’ll say when I get up to preach. I hope you find them useful!

Good morning, it’s a real pleasure to be with you once again. Thank you for your kind welcome to Jo and myself in the last few weeks. We really feel like we are starting to settle in and feel part of things in the Emmanuel Group already, which is a real joy for us.

This morning I want to talk about two key things which can be huge drivers in our lives, trust and fear. We’ll look at two stories, the first Elijah hiding in a cave in 1 Kings 19 to escape his own destruction, and the second Jesus, and then Peter’s walking on the water as the disciples are saved from a storm a good distance from the shore. I hope that we will see from these stories the terrible consequence that fear can have in our lives, and the tremendous positive it can be to instead trust God with our lives, and follow in His way.

I drove a speedboat once. Imagine it if you will. On a school trip on the South coast. I remember the thrill as the boat crested the waves. I felt so powerful. It was one of those times when you understand why you are alive. Nothing can go wrong. You have all the power you could ever need. It all makes sense. But then something does, in fact go wrong. In my case it was that I drove too fast, and required the steadying hand of an instructor to keep me from crashing, capsizing, or worse. In the moment where it all went wrong I was gripped by fear. From having been in complete, somewhat arrogant control just a moment before, now I felt completely unable to do anything to save myself. Fortunately, the instructor was an expert, who had been readying himself for exactly this kind of eventuality and was easily able to rectify my mistakes, chastise me slightly and make me realize that even though I knew something about how to drive a speedboat, because he had told me how to do it, and that I knew that I had the potential to have the capability to do it well, I did not have all of the experience and capabilities which the instructor did have. It was lucky that he was there to rescue me that day, otherwise I wouldn’t be here with you this morning.

It’s easy for us to think that we have everything that we could possibly need, that we do not need anything outside of ourselves. Humans can be greedy, self-serving, we can be prone to putting ourselves before others. One of the primary things that we see as we look around our world, this week of all weeks, is the tendency that we have, to operate out of fear. All over the world we see injustice being lived out, pain and suffering being caused, as individuals, groups and nations continually prove that they are unable to successfully coexist with one another. Instead we must prove that we have the power and the authority to live as we want to, often to the detriment of other people.

In our 1st reading this morning, from 1st Kings chapter 19, we find Elijah running away in fear from the responsibility of proclamation given to him by God. In what would be a standard old Testament theophany, appearance of God to man, we find wind, earthquake and fire passing by Elijah on the mountain, but as the writer of first Kings tells us, The Lord was not in any of them. After this in verses 12 and 13,  Elijah hears a gentle whisper, which causes into draw his cloak about his face and go and stand at the mouth of the cave. Notice that the writer does not here say that the Lord was in the small voice. It is all too easy for us to assume that this was what drew Elijah out, but was it? Arguably what the reading actually tells us is that, having had quite an experience with wind, earthquake and fire, Elijah comes out in the calm, and God is then able to regain his attention. In spite of what seem like quite justified quibbles in verse 14 about his own safety, Elijah isn’t able to sway God. Living in his fear, he doesn’t know better. God has called, and equipped him perfectly for the task of proclamation that is before him. Elijah, humanly speaking, was probably quite right to be worried. I expect most of us would be if we found ourselves in his situation, but as I said, God had called him and would go with him as he went on in his journey of service. Are there things this morning that we think God might have called us to but from which we are hiding in a cave? Are we preserving ourselves, thinking we know better? Are we perhaps even afraid? If we are then we’re in good company, but the message of Elijah is that, in the end, he had to trust God, and much fruit was born from that trust.

Moving to our gospel reading for this morning, Matthew 14, we find Jesus, having just fed the 5000, and revealed something of who He was to His disciples, sending them away, so that He could withdraw and be with His Father. Matthew is clear that Jesus was alone up the mountain. He is also clear that, as the disciples had been sent out in the boat, they were far from the shore “buffeted by the waves, because the wind was against them”. We then see that, as they were in great distress, Jesus came to them walking on the water.

This should make us sit up and take notice. Walking on the water isn’t exactly normal, everyday behavior. It could be here that Matthew is drawing the attention of his readers to the fulfilment of Job 9:8  “He alone spreads out the heavens and walks upon the waves of the sea”, or is making allusions to Habakkuk 3:15 “You stepped on the sea with Your horses, on the waves of many waters.” But it is crucial to remember also that Matthew’s purpose in his gospel is to present the humanity of Jesus, as well as his divinity. Jesus is the Jewish messiah for Matthew because he fulfills all the human characteristics He needed to have in order to do so. Rather than trying to prove who He is here, He is coming to the aid of His friends who are in distress. Although this story undoubtedly does show something of who Jesus was, it is important, for Matthew, that it be shown that Jesus was able to save them because He trusted God. This is emphasized by the conferral of the power to walk on water to Peter. He only loses that power when he stops trusting Jesus, and starts trusting in himself and notices the circumstances that he’s in. Then he’s chastised by Jesus. Jesus has given him the instruction, “come”, simply come, not to worry about how he was going to get there or what it might look or feel like, and for a few short moments, Peter did simply come, and he was making it. It was only when he complicated matters that he was in trouble.

So, are we all called to walk on water, or like me, are we all going to find the nearest speedboat, jump in and hope for the best? I don’t think that’s entirely the point, but in a sense, the point that Matthew is making in his telling of this story is that, yes, Jesus is the son of God; yes He does have authority over the natural world (see also the feeding of the 5000, the earlier calming of the storm) but also that, through Him, these things are available to us too. Do we fear that the real power of the Spirit isn’t for us, for whatever reason? I know I do sometimes. I hear stories of miracles, of the supernatural intervention of God in situations and circumstances and I think “no, not for me”. Or perhaps in another sense, I’d rather be limited by my situation and circumstances, by what I can see and know, and I don’t trust Jesus, when He calls me to follow after Him doing even greater things than He has done. Ultimately, it is fear, and a lack of trust, that keeps me from living the life that could be mine. I think that goes for many of us all too often, but I can’t speak for you!

God wanted Elijah to trust Him, so that He could show Elijah something of His glory. Jesus walked on the water to help His friends, and to show something of possibility that is available to us because of who He is and what He has done.

We are who we are because of God. He knew us from before creation, calling us in to being to be with Him, and drawing us towards Him throughout all of history. He is eternally calling us towards Him and, in Jesus, steps inside human history, and the story of our lives, so that we might have life, and have it to the full. Whatever kind of life we’ve lived, or are living today, the offer of life, love, hope and a future is open to us, because of the goodness and greatness of God. Because Jesus died and rose again, the way to God need never be closed to us again. We are offered a choice. Will we trust Jesus enough to walk on the water towards Him, at the same time knowing that He will reach out and save us “immediately” if we ask Him, or do we want to live in fear? I know which one appeals to me more. It’s a case, every day, of asking God, “show me a new way to trust you today.” It might be a brave step, you might have made it many times before, but consider again making the choice to trust God today. He is your saviour, your shield and your defender, and He is waiting for you. When we’ve done that, let’s live to be a sign to the world that trusting God, rather than ourselves, and not fearing what we do not know or understand, is a real, viable alternative as a way of life. Let’s be a sign in the world that we have a way of life which works, and live to glorify God in everything we do this week.

Amen