Sermon for the Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity

17th Sep 2017


Sermon for The Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity Year A

 

Peter went up to Jesus and said “How often must I forgive my brother if he wrongs me?” Matthew 18.21

 

 

The question Peter puts to Jesus concerning forgiveness is a piercing one; it startles. Peter knows that there is a whole lot of difference between token forgiveness and the kind of forgiveness which comes from the heart : the forgiveness which transforms and renews our humanity. He will one day be in need of such forgiveness  from Jesus Himself. Peter makes mention of ‘seven times’ and ‘seventy times seven’ and of how many times we must forgive… The very mention of these numbers, the latter signalling an infinite amount of forgivenesses, presses in upon the mind, and invites us to consider the kind of active forgiveness which is presented to us in the sacrificial life of Christ. We need to think long and carefully on these things. We might think that there seems to be two ways only we can follow, both in opposite directions. One is the way of stubborn self-justification and the other living that part of The Lord’s Prayer which asks that God forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. One turns inward - the heart and mind pickled in aspic, and the other responds to the hope of new life, the mark of the influence of Christ, and demands moral bravery.

 

Rowan Williams, The Archbishop of Canterbury wrote a book ‘Written in the Dust’ about his own experiences of evacuating a dust filled building in Manhattan amid the terror of 9/11. This book carries with it a plea for “language that brings into the world something other than self-defensiveness,” language — or maybe silence — that creates (and the author knew from being on the scene how paradoxical was this chosen image) a “breathing space.” And this is the place where understanding and forgiveness can emerge. Understanding always begets forgiveness. It exists as a breathing space… Peter’s recall to the forgiveness to the mark of  ‘seventy times seven’ opens up such a breathing space because it recalls the infinite love of God with a human willingness to understand only God can bring together that which has been separated and alienated.

 

Into the breach of these thoughts for me come the figures of two priests. The first was a 68 year old  Franciscan Priest and Chaplain on 9/11 to The New York Fire Brigade. He died from falling masonry and dust inhalation. He was labelled ‘victim 001’. His name was Fr Michal Judge. A photograph was taken of New York firemen carrying his body away from the scene of death  in an improvised stretcher rather like a hammock. It is a powerful image because it reminds the Christian so much of the deposition from the Cross. But the photograph is also an icon for the priest on duty, the one who was doing only what he was meant to do, the one who died doing what a priest in such a situation would do: anointing the dead. He had written in his journals his many inner struggles; not least as not being able to express his fuller humanity in the course of his duties. The presence of Fr Michal in this terrible scene, and among so many other helpers, points us to the place of ordinary, deep humanity which brings hope even while the terrible fall-out is suffered. It is this kind of deep humanity which is being demanded of us as God’s Church. It is the action which challenges the world to be a better place in the manner and the meaning of its truer existence. It is the action of the forgiveness seventy times seven in the re-making and re-instatement of the good.

 

We have in this church over the past eighteen months been praying for another priest, Fr Tom Uzhunnalil, a Catholic priest from Kerala, India, who was captured by ISIS terrorists and has this week been released. Father Uzhunnalil was kidnapped on March 4, 2016 from a home for the aged and disabled run by the Missionaries of Charity in Aden, Yemen. Four of those Missionaries of Charity and 12 others were murdered in the attack. Father Uzhunnalil was rescued last week by Omani authorities “in coordination with the Yemeni parties. Recalling his time in captivity, Fr Tom told Pope Francis last week that although he was unable to celebrate Mass, “every day, I would repeat to myself, in my heart, all the words of the celebration. Father Uzhunnalil said he continues to pray for all those who have been spiritually close to him, particularly for the four nuns and 12 people murdered when he was abducted.

 

In all the bewilderment that this priest must have felt, the powerlessness and the deprivation and uncertainly, his faith proved to be a reconciling one, one which was not wasted in negativity, but always keeping to that which he was taught, The Christian faith. He was able to offer his condition in prayer for the life of the Church and in thankfulness and solidarity with his fellow workers, many of them already dead. This is the triumph of God’s grace over despair and the true response to the forgiveness seventy times seven. God’s power being made perfect in the powerless state, the one which, beyond all calculation and self-regard, of blame and resentment, determines to be an agent of God’s transforming grace. Let us be determined to show that we can, in our own way and by remaining faithful to our Christian calling, be agents of that same grace, too…



Sermon for the Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity

10th Sep 2017


The Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity Year A

 

“Love is the answer to every one of the commandments”.  Romans 13.10

 

It is so important to proclaim the existence of The Church as a community of the faithful which is not-self-selecting. When we read from St Paul’s Letter to The Romans, we understand this to mean that all Romans were being addressed. All the people, no matter where they were coming from. It is never a Letter written to a select group. The genius of St Paul lay in his ability to communicate to the largest number of people while remaining true to the basic meaning of the Christian Gospel. The language he uses is direct and basic. What binds the Church together from within itself is no secret or complex set of religious rules. ‘Love’ he says is to be the Church’s meaning and the true mark of its identity. And once he declares this to be so then he lays a great demand upon his listeners everywhere. For there can be no love among us unless there is self-examination and repentance, and the awareness of our own need for healing. God’s intention is sure, and in this is offered Christ’s mercy and the promise of newness of life and the refreshment of our relation both with ourselves and God.

 

The preeminent ministry of Jesus Christ, the mission given Him by God the Father, was the ministry of reconciliation. To be a Christian is to live in that ministry of reconciliation, forgiveness and healing. Forgiveness and healing doesn’t say that there was no sin. It doesn’t excuse hurt or sin. What it does do is heal us. And this is the task we are to set for ourselves as God’s Church. The recognition and the obedience of the call to be active reconcilers. And the best way of understanding the call to reconciliation is to see Christ as the One who takes into himself energies of all different kinds, many of them malevolent, distorted and vain, and through his own being transforms these energies into the good and the true. In human terms, this movement must derive from our own willingness in to be honest with ourselves and honest to God. We must not see our neighbour as a barrier to our own attempts to assert ourselves and our desires apart form them.

 

Certainly, given the times in which we live, that ways of healing and reconciliation are desperately needed, both in our personal lives, in our national life, and globally as well. If you want to know what God's will is for you, it all begins with the power that Jesus is giving us. The ministry of reconciliation is clearly and centrally God's will for you and for me. We are called to love.  And we are called to forgive. Not just as a community of believers, but also as a community of mankind.

 

2 Corinthians 5:18-20

King James Version (KJV)

 

And all things are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus Christ, and hath given to us the ministry of reconciliation; To wit, that God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them; and hath committed unto us the word of reconciliation. Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us: we pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God.

 

Some time ago, I attended a meeting in the Town hall at which two hundred Camden folk were gathered in the aftermath of riots in Hackney. The meeting was marked by contributions from police, politicians and community leaders. It gave different constituents time and space to express their general opinions and grievances concerning our modern society and life in this part of London. There didn’t seem to be a consensus as to what was really wrong; whether blame should be attached to the parents, the looters, the rioters themselves, or the state of our society. And there was a vital ingredient missing in the debate. This was some comment on how people behave if they have no recourse to those moral, spiritual and hopeful influences which enrich and inform an inner life. And particularly, I mean the influence of an active and hopeful faith. One of the tenets of the Twelve step Alcoholics Anonymous is that “I will give my life over to a power greater than myself”. Though this does not explicitly mention God, Christians know this to be the case.

 

They know it not just as a piece of knowledge, but in the person and the love of Jesus Christ. What the meeting did and perhaps could not address was the question of what a person looks like when they have abandoned any hope in a living, loving God. When this happens a vital dimension in the human experience is lost – the need to ask for and to receive forgiveness. The need to ‘tell it like it is’ and to confess our sins. The need to worship and to acknowledge that power ‘greater than myself’. To acknowledge that we are creatures made in the likeness and being of our Creator. To see the influence of Christ in the life of the world and to enjoy his presence for its own sake. All these elements are healing and reconciling elements. They give shape and body and inner wisdom to lives which without them are fragile shells, falling prey to hopelessness and then where inner disquiet is great, even to violence against their neighbour.

 

The message this morning is of a love which beckons us in and which draws us together. It is a reconciling love because it demands we see God both as He is and in our neighbour; who is made not in our image but in the image of their maker. Only then do we begin to experience the fullness, the abundance and the plurality of God’s love. Only then can we recognise our neighbour for the persons they really are.

 

So then, as we approach the Lord’s altar this morning, let us pray for a deepening of love — love for the Lord, and love for the gifts He has given to us, including those neighbours He has placed into our care. Let us pray for a continual re-awakening of that spiritual facility, coming from God, from which love expresses itself from source and from which God’s love can be expressed. Let us never lose sight of the gift of love from the original giver, God Himself….

 

 

St Augustine’s Confessions Chapter 10, 27:

 

Too late have I loved Thee, 0 Beauty so ancient and so fresh; too late have 1 loved Thee! For behold Thou wert within me, and 1 outside; and 1 sought Thee outside and in my unloveliness fell upon those lovely things that Thou hast made. Thou wert with me and 1 was not with Thee. I was kept from Thee by those things, yet had they not been in Thee, they would not have been at all. Thou didst call and cry to me to break open my deafness: and Thou didst send forth Thy beams and shine upon me and chase away my blindness: Thou didst breathe fragrance upon me, and 1 drew in my breath and did not pant for Thee: 1 tasted Thee, and now hunger and thirst for Thee: Thou didst touch me, and I have burned for Thy peace.



Sermon for the Tenth Sunday after Trinity

20th Aug 2017


Sermon for the Tenth Sunday after Trinity Year A

 

“God has imprisoned all in disobedience so that he may be merciful to all”

Romans 11.32.

 

The graphic story in today’s gospel tells of a Syro-Phoenician or Canaanite woman who as a foreigner, successfully challenges Jesus’ own intention to minister only to ‘the lost sheep of Israel’. This woman is a rank outsider. She crashes into the party where the invited and the included are those deemed to be strictly righteous and for whom the inheritance of faith in God was given and sacrosanct. These are the Jewish inheritors of a covenant which had given them exclusive rights and access to Rabbinic teaching. But the woman’s presence also reveals the down-side of this righteousness. For it excited feelings of ethnic cleanliness, and exaggerated and hardened itself against any who stood outside the community of the chosen. An obvious contemporary example of this is the caste system in India, which is still excludes.

 

Jesus, as a rabbinic teacher, stands awkwardly in the middle of these racial tensions both as a Jew himself and as an inheritor of the Jewish tradition. But crucially we discover that he is ready to give ground. He knows from deep within that the gift of faith is generic. It is for all and has not been parcelled out to the practising religious alone. This is evidenced  in the case to this mere woman who comes from a territory unvisited by strict Jews. She comes to the gospel text as a rank outsider. Nonetheless she gives Jesus due respect, using the title ‘Lord, Son of David’. And in a gentle play on words like ‘dog’, which were and still are in the middle east used as insults, she turns the joke to her own good use and appeals to the witty idea that even the (real) dogs are permitted to eat the scraps that fall from the master’s table. Jesus commends her for her faith. The word faith here is being used as a kind of forthrightness, a kind of keen wit and intelligence borne of necessity. One comedian once said that in order to have a sense of humour and to make humour work you need also a strong sense of proportion. The place of this woman in this context is to put the ancient and well trusted idea of the Jews as God’s elect in its proper, that is to say human, and wider and more embodied, context. She might be saying, even to Jesus, ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me’.

 

This Gospel reading and this strange, insistent woman provide a timely reminder of the need to challenge the forces of hatred and fundamentalism that carry out threats to life and limb and sanction righteous murder. In Barcelona this week there was repeated the same murdering of innocent pedestrians in a built up, tourist area, and follows on from similar attacks in Stockholm, London, Paris Manchester, Nice and Brussels. It was telling that in the people gathered the next day in the city’s main square that, after a silent vigil, applause broke out with the words in Spanish “I am not afraid” ‘No tink por’.

 

The challenge to what terrorism must lie in the defiance of those who will not allow its threat and fear to override the beauty and worth of life lived in one united bond of honour and trust. The summons to defend basic human freedoms is as urgent now s it was at the time of Jesus. In a multicultural and perhaps fractured world, Jesus, like us, was immersed in the potential conflict of interests that such a situation threw up.  

 

The Canaanite woman prompts Jesus to the enlargement of the household of faith. She reminds us that such enlargement, such widening of sympathy, is necessary to the very integrity and honesty of the Christian Way, and ultimately for the freedom of the world. Her intervention begs important questions regarding the nature of religious faith and the commonness of our humanity, and acts as a break on those forms of ethnic purity which have already led to so much horror and brutality.

 

Jesus is manifestly Son of God. In him, we come to know that it is the Creator’s will and purpose that all are given free access to his love and mercy, beyond the imposed confines of human will and vanity and fundamentalist ideology. As the hymn reminds us, there “There’s a wideness in God’s Mercy”, not just for we of the household of Christian Faith but for all who, whether consciously or unconsciously, seek God from the bottom of their hearts. Human freedom, the freedom to live and to thrive, in peace and harmony, must never be taken for granted. It must be proclaimed daily, defiantly and fearlessly. All are ultimately included.

 

 

There’s a wideness in God’s mercy

Like the wideness of the sea;

There’s a kindness in his justice,

Which is more than liberty.

 

F W Faber (1814-1863)



Sermon for the Seventh Sunday after Trinity

30th Jul 2017


Sermon for the Seventh Sunday after Trinity Year A

 

The God who gives himself for us and who feeds us…

 

In Matthew's account of the feeding of the multitude, Jesus is moved with compassion to heal the people (v. 14). In Mark he is moved to teach them (Mark 6:34). Both aspects are important and interrelated. The Lord loves us and wants to heal and teach us. This he does supremely in the Eucharist. He feeds and teaches us at the altar of Christ’s sacrificial love. We cannot grow spiritually unless we are being taught - through the Word of God and through the teaching of the Church. And this is a teaching which may prove healing, too.

 

Christians of the 4th Century period built monasteries, churches and shrines in Galilee and on the shores of the Sea of Galilee to commemorate the ministry of Jesus and the miracles ascribed to him. Tabgha – an Arabic corruption of the Greek name Heptapegon (Seven Springs) – is the traditional site of the Miracle of the Multiplication of the Loaves and the Fishes. (Matt. 14: 13-21) It is situated in a narrow, fertile valley on the northern shore of the lake, watered by several springs.

 

The earliest building at Tabgha was a small chapel (18 x 9.6 m) from the 4th century CE; only a part of its foundations was uncovered. This was probably the shrine described by the pilgrim Egeria at the end of the 4th century:

 

In the same place (not far from Capernaum) facing the Sea of Galilee is a well watered land in which lush grasses grow, with numerous trees and palms. Nearby are seven springs which provide abundant water. In this fruitful garden Jesus fed five thousand people with five loaves of bread and two fish. The stone upon which the Master placed the bread became an altar. The many pilgrims to the site broke off pieces of it as a cure for their ailments.

 

The monastery and church at Tabgha were destroyed in the 7th century, probably during the Arab conquest of the country, and buried beneath a thick layer of silt and stones. In the 1980s, after excavation, the church was restored to its Byzantine form, incorporating portions of the original mosaics. The existing church is called ‘The Church of the Multiplication of Fishes’ and stands as a powerful reminder of the way in which God provides for our basic and essential need.

 

Our experience of the one great act of worship in this church is of the receiving of the sacred elements of bread and wine at the Sunday Eucharist. In it there is a promise. It is that we become what we received, bearers of Christ himself. As we end the Mass we pledge our willingness to live and work to God’s praise and glory. To share that which we have received and so to multiply the means of grace so that it may be transformed into glory.

 

I knew a woman who had lost her son. He had committed suicide. She was beside herself with grief. She was a devout churchwoman and this seemed to make her grief not better but worse. She was in a state of great confusion. She felt the expectation that she should be able to bear all these things as befitted her well-known status as ‘a pillar of the Church’ and a proper Christian. But this was not the case. She felt the loss of her beloved Son the more keenly. People kept on asking her about how she felt. This soon proved difficult to accept. In her grief there was to be no known or ready-made set of consolations. But at a crucial point, early on in her grieving, her Vicar, whom she had known for many years, came to her home one day while she was out shopping. He left on her doorstep a beef casserole which he had made and with it a small message. The body and the soul are not so much different, are they? Neither are our need for physical and spiritual sustenance. Both need feeding from their true source, which is God and from his helpers.

 

That woman recounted to her kindly Vicar many months later that it was that gift, of the casserole dish with its food waiting on her doorstep, which spoke louder than words could at that time, and remained for her human and memorable, and yes, God given.  Its kindliness stood for that sharing of loves, that staple diet, informed by the Word of God and of his teaching, which blesses us, sustains us and gives us hope. 



Sermon for the Sixth Sunday afterTrinity

23rd Jul 2017


Sermon for the Sixth Sunday after Trinity Year A

 

“…And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit”. 

                                                                           Romans 8.30.

 

 

In today’s reading we come to know that The Church from the beginning had always considered its authority to be a spiritual authority which governed the hearts and minds of the faithful. All other earthly authorities were considered significant but secondary to the one which acknowledged God as first before all things. In our first reading King Solomon asks God not for riches or power but for wisdom. He is granted wisdom because he understands wisdom. And this wisdom is the one in which consideration of God’s presence and purpose in life lies foremost in the mind and the heart and colours and shapes all life. But in contemporary society and in the wake of Richard Dawkins and his idea of ‘The God Delusion’, faith and trust in God is undermined by ill-conceived doubt and cynicism. More than ever the Christian Church needs to be seen and heard for the joyful faith that its practices bring and for the deep wisdom that is embedded in the Christ who has offered himself unto death in the service of others.

 

St Peter’s Church Belsize Park is a very large mid-Victorian Anglican Gothic Church. I was some years ago there to attend an Ethiopian Orthodox liturgy on their own Feast of St Gabriel. The church was full to bursting with at least 3 or 400 people, almost all dressed in white and already hours into a liturgy that had begun with fasting at 3 am that morning. The place was stiflingly hot and as soon as I entered the building I was asked by a veiled woman to remove my shoes, and then I was led to the sanctuary where many deacons and priests and bishops presided over a liturgy which was both formal and informal. Formal in that it was purposeful and full of song and dance and prayer with drums and cymbals. Informal in that the clergy seemed to decide upon what they should do next through a series of facial and hand gestures. One of the priests took me aside and explained to me that this Ethiopian Orthodox Liturgy was practised in the first century after the Resurrection of Christ, and it had not changed. This ancient Ethiopian Orthodox Church pre-dates the Latin Catholic church by centuries. I had arrived at a certain time but the liturgy was to continue for longer than I think anyone expected, with a Eucharistic sharing and even a wedding taking place with bride and groom wearing crowns and dressed in white as virgins. It though one was entering  a church which had never lost its sense of itself with the passage of time. It was like stepping into another world and another place in time. The joy and the sheer passion and fervour with which the liturgy was celebrated was deeply inspiriting and very moving. It provided for me a reminder of the holiness of the Christian Church and of its obligation to remain true to its holy calling. Its worship should be a heart-felt expression of thanksgiving for the love of God and not, as may so often happen, an event which may engage the mind and certain surface attention, but not feed the soul and the deeper sense in which God’s holy presence is offered to us as a living miracle. It should exist of itself before ever our own moods, meanings or responses are attached to its actions.

 

I hear the words from our epistle this morning, the words of encouragement and instruction which St Paul gives to the embattled Christian community in Rome. They are words which direct the believer to a surer knowledge and experience of God who lies closer to the heart of our being than we are ever prepared to allow. These words direct us to attend to the existence of God whose presence and purposes lie in the here and now and yet who is all mystery and who is sensed in ways and places subliminal to our ready knowledge of things. “And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the spirit”. “Bidden or not bidden”, said Jung, “God is present”.

 

For God’s presence is truth-bearing and truth-making. And as such it is liberating and refreshing. It gives newness of life. This is not the kind of truth which is self-justifying, but the truth which liberates you from your own vanity. No wonder then, that Solomon when asked by God what he might be given asks merely for ‘the discernment to judge between what is good and evil’. In his existing wisdom, Solomon’s request is the one echoed in an old and often recited prayer. This is the one which says “May the divine assistance remain with us always, and may the souls of the faithful through the mercy of God rest (or remain) in peace. This, I once thought, was a prayer for the dead. But it is a prayer for those of us very much alive. Peace is the gift given to the one for whom real life is the one lived in co-habitation and co-operation with the Creator God in Jesus Christ. The blessed life is the one which remains open to the possibility of the divine assistance. This is a call to see God in all things and in all people, and to see the world as it is and find that everlasting presence which divines the world’s true being.



 

Next

Last

  Records 1 to 5 of 275