Filed under: Uncategorized
A sermon preached at All Hallows Easton, November 13, 2016
When this annual Act of Remembrance, which we shall take part in at the end of Mass, was started nearly a hundred years ago, people were actually remembering those that they really remembered and grieved for – sons, fathers, uncles, brothers, husbands, fiancés. People they had known personally, who had gone out to France and died on the Somme or elsewhere. We can’t do that. No-one still alive can do that. Even if they are still living, they would have been too small to recall anyone personally. That is nearly true of the Second World War too. You would have to be older than me. My own father fortunately survived, though he might well not have done, but if he had been killed I would have scarcely any memory of him now. You have to be some way older than me to do that.
So we are only remembering at second hand. Remembering things we have been told, remembering the fact that certain things happened. But from our own personal experience we remember that these sort of things are still going on. The Great War To End All War did not do so. Because the peace was mishandled, the seeds were sown for a second war, and since then, in my lifetime, I have known wars in Korea, in Viet-Nam, in Iraq, and even now in Syria and Iraq. To say nothing of civil wars in all sorts of places. Human beings do not seem to know how to live at peace with one another.
Our focus today, if our Act of Remembrance is to mean anything, must be on prayer for peace. Prayer that men and women find some other way to settle their differences than by violence and warfare. We still remember the human cost of failing to do so. Not just the soldiers, sailors and airmen from this country or our allies who paid the price with their lives, but those of our enemies too. As Christians, we still count them as brothers and sisters. And the millions of civilians caught up in conflict, unable to escape. We remember them.
I will be brief. If possible, I like our Act of Remembrance to be as near as possible at the eleventh hour. Armistice Day itself was on Friday. Acts of Remembrance took place in this city and throughout the land, to say nothing of other countries, at the Eleventh Hour of the Eleventh Day of the Eleventh Month. There is significance in this. It reminds us that, though we pray to God for salvation, that salvation may only come at the eleventh hour, when all human hope has been lost. Peace does not come about by merely human effort- history proves that. It is the gift of God, be prayed for and received with humility. One of our Lord’s great titles is Prince of Peace. Let us ask him to send down upon this troubled world the great gift of peace.
Filed under: Uncategorized
Third Sunday before Advent (Trinity 24) 2016-11-6
2 Thess 2.1-5, 13-17; Luke 20.27-38
(This sermon was preached at All Hallows, Easton, especially to the children.)
What is this? A pumpkin
Anything special about it? It has a face carved into it.
When do we see this sort of Pumpkin? At Hallowe’en.
When was that? Last Monday
Anybody go trick or treating? (I had three lots of trick or treaters calling)
So what is Hallowe’en all about? It is the day or rather the evening) before All Saints’ Day, sometimes called All Hallows (like our church)
Do you know what the day AFTER All Hallows is called? It is called All Souls Day.
This is the day when Christians especially remember family members and others who have died.
It is very natural to be sad when someone you love dies. But the great Apostle Saint Paul, in one of his letters, tells us that, although we may be sad, we should not be without hope. Every Sunday, we all stand up in Church and say, “We look forward to the Resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come.”
Unlike some other people, we know that, if we follow Jesus and trust in him, when we die we go to be with him; and just as he rose from the dead on Easter Day, he has promised the same for us when he comes back to set the whole world to rights.
In today’s Gospel story, Jesus was arguing with people who didn’t believe this, who thought the whole idea was ridiculous, and wanted to make it look ridiculous. Jesus told them that they were WRONG. No-one dies in God’s eyes, but when in our eyes they pass away, they are safe with him. And when Jesus returns, they will return with him- WE will return with him.
To people who don’t believe and trust in Jesus, dying seems frightening and terrible. It is called “The Last Enemy”. But Jesus is stronger than death itself, he is alive for ever.
And that (partly) is why we have Hallowe’en, with witches and skeletons and all things other people connect with death. AND WE LAUGH AT THEM, we make fun of them, and make scary heads out of pumpkins . Death is not something we should be afraid of. Yes, we may be afraid of illness or pain. Jesus was afraid of the things leading up to death, the cruel things the soldiers did to him. But he was not afraid of dying, because he was going back to his heavenly Father.
The month of November is the month the Church especially remembers those we call “the Faithful departed”, all the people who have finished their earthly lives, and now wait in heaven for the new heaven and the new earth which God has promised. We pray with them, and for them, as they do for us.
Filed under: Uncategorized
A sermon preached at All Hallows, Easton, on October 16th 2016
Filed under: Uncategorized
Every so often one comes upon the claim (I did so recently) that “Jesus never existed.” No reputable historian of the first century takes this seriously, but because such a claim can be made and believed by even intelligent people who are not historians, I outline just a little of the evidence that refutes it.
The earliest first-century reference to Jesus is found in the letters of Paul of Tarsus. No-one, I think, doubts the existence of Paul (he is even in some quarters credited with the invention of Christianity), or suggests that the letters (most of them at least) are forgeries. They date from the fifties of the first century, and are addressed to various communities that Paul had either visited (Corinth, Galatia) or intended to visit (Rome).
It is clear that for some years prior to the letters Paul had been travelling around Asia Minor and Greece teaching that Jesus of Nazareth was the Jewish Messiah (“Christos”). In so doing he had not surprisingly incurred the hostility of both Jewish and Roman authorities. It is absolutely clear from the letters that Paul himself believed that Jesus had lived and had been executed in Jerusalem by the Romans some twenty to thirty years earlier. He also tells his readers that, to his shame, at an earlier stage of his career he himself had persecuted those who made the same claim that he now accepted. This period of his life must be dated to the thirties of the century. This is therefore evidence that by that time, only a few years after the supposed execution of Jesus, there was already a group of people in and around Jerusalem who believed Jesus to be the Messiah, and who attracted unfavourable attention from the authorities. Elsewhere, Paul gives the names of some of the leaders of this movement, Peter and James. No-one, I think, claims that they did not exist.
It is totally incredible that, in the context of first-century Judaism, a Messianic claimant could be put forward who simply did not exist. Claims regarding his supposed resurrection were countered by accusations that the disciples had stolen the body, not by saying that of course there was no body, because no such person had existed. This (on the evidence of Paul’s letters) must have been within a few years of the events in question. If Jesus never existed, we have to believe that, quite spontaneously, there arose a movement of people who claimed to have known him personally (though presumably outside the movement no-one could even remember him) and that he had been so notorious that the Romans had executed him as a Messianic claimant (though, again, no-one else could recall this), all within a year or two of it supposedly having happened.
Of course, apart from Paul’s letters, but only a little later, we also have the accounts of Jesus’ life we call the Gospels. Though there is clearly some interdependence, they each have their own special features, complementary but not contradictory to one another, which suggests that they reflect real events. One author (Luke) stresses his efforts to establish the historical facts; and he continues his narrative of Jesus with an account (admittedly schematic) of the early years following, including an outline of Paul’s career that seems independent of the letters we have.
In any other context, such literary evidence would be regarded by historians as more than sufficient to establish the main facts. It is backed up by what we know from secular sources about the rise of the Christian movement within the Roman Empire. Given the shortness of the time-scale involved, and the unpopularity of the movement with religious and political authorities, it seems incredible that it should flourish when the obvious and then easily-established riposte might be made, “But Jesus never existed.”
Filed under: Uncategorized
A sermon preached at All Hallows, Easton, Sunday August 14, 2016
We are keeping tomorrow today- that is, we are celebrating today tomorrow’s feast of the Assumption of our blessed Lady into heaven. In a way, Christians are always celebrating tomorrow today, because we believe that the eternal life which God has promised us hereafter has already begun in this life. In Baptism we renounce the old life and standards of this sinful world, and “put on Christ”- clothe ourselves, as it were, with the life and standards of Christ. True, we often fall short of those standards, so that the new life we live is weakened; but unless we deliberately renounce our discipleship of Christ (and even then he never renounces us) we will reach our journey’s end in heaven.
Today we celebrate Mary’s journey’s end. For the most part, the details of that journey are hidden from us. We see her first as a girl in Nazareth, answering the angel’s call: “Behold, the handmaid of the Lord.” We follow her through the next year, visiting Elizabeth and travelling with Joseph to Bethlehem for the birth of her son, and soon afterwards she disappears for about twelve years, until she and Joseph search for Jesus and find him in the Temple. then she disappears from view again until Jesus begins his public ministry. At Cana she speaks: “Do whatever he tells you,” and some three years later stands at the foot of the Cross, and receives the disciple John as her new child and also he carer. She is with the disciples in the upper room at Pentecost, and the rest is silence. How long afterwards she remained on earth we have no idea.
From a very early time, the Church has believed that at the end of her life Mary was received body and soul into heaven. While the bones of practically every other saint have been revered and enshrined, and some of the claims seem unlikely (it is said that the head of John the Baptist is preserved in several different places), there has never been any claim that the bones of Mary might be found on earth. Why should this be?
This is where we need a bit of theology. Right at the beginning of the Bible, we learn that God did not intend human beings to die. This truth is couched in story form, in the way that could be understood and remembered in a less scientific age than our own. God places the first human beings in a garden, a garden in which grow the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and the tree of life. Because Adam and Eve tried to snatch a certain equality with God (that is the meaning of “eating of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil”), they were excluded from access to the tree of life. Their lives would be marked by sorrow, and would end in death. The whole Bible story after that is the story of how God seeks to rescue his children from their self-inflicted exile, to save them from death, and eventually to create a new heaven and a new earth for them to live in.
St Paul speaks of Jesus as the “Second Adam”, one who did not snatch at equality with God (as the first Adam had), but emptied himself and became obedient even to the death of the cross. Then he was raised bodily from the tomb, and ascended into heaven as the King of all creation. Christ was sinless, yet he died for our sins. In him, God as it were “re-booted” the universe, and gave it a fresh start. Christ is the New Adam- but where is the new Eve? In the original story, Eve was the indispensible help-meet of Adam, as innocent as he was until their common fall. God made mankind male and female, sharing the task of tending God’s world. And that is how we must see the position of Mary in the new order of salvation. Her obedience (“Behold, the handmaid of the Lord.”) countermanded the disobedience of Eve. Standing at the Cross, she united herself with Jesus in his self-sacrifice for our salvation. Receiving John, she received all her son’s disciples as her children.
The Church’s belief in the Assumption rests on these principles: Mary, the new Eve, was as innocent as the first Eve prior to the fall, and became the indispensible instrument whereby the new Adam entered the world. Jesus is “Emmanuel, God-with-us”, and Mary is mother of God. Like her son, she passed through the gates of death at the end of her earthly life; but like her son, death could not hold her, and so she already has the fullness of the resurrection.
Never forget: our destiny is not simply “going to heaven when we die.” That is only the intermediate stage. Every Sunday in the Creed we say that we believe in the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come. In the Apostles’ Creed it is even more explicit: “I believe in the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.” Easter Day and August 15th testify that we really mean this. New heaven, new earth, new bodies. That is our tomorrow.
Filed under: Uncategorized
Sermon preached at All Hallows, Easton, 17th July 2016
(Col 1.15-28; Lk 10.38-42)
What a contrast there seems to be, between the Christ of the Epistle, “The image of the invisible God, the first-born of all creation…”, and the Jesus of the Gospel, the humble rabbi sitting in the house of Martha and Mary and listening to the petty complaints of one against the other. And yet, both these pictures are true. The man who walked the roads of Galilee two thousand years ago, who received hospitality from ordinary human beings with all their faults and failings, who was rejected and put to death because small-minded people could not accept his message, and put their trust in human politics: this man was in very truth the Image of the God we cannot see, the Creator of the world, the one in whom the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and who by his very death on the Cross has brought about the reconciliation of the world to God, and the peace that passes understanding.
In the light of the terrible events in France on Thursday- and of equally terrible events in France and elsewhere that seem to be unending, how can we believe that Christ has already brought about peace and reconciliation? The short answer is, of course, that he has not yet brought it about, he has only opened the possibility for it to come about, and he has commissioned his Church- which means you and me, not Popes and Archbishops and Bishops- to continue his work, even if at times we suffer the same misunderstanding, rejection and suffering that he did.
Look again at the domestic picture of Jesus in the house of his friends. Luke does not explain that this house was at Bethany, just outside Jerusalem. He does not connect it with the events of Holy Week, when Jesus lodged there immediately before his Passion. We can assume, then, that this was at some other time, and that Jesus frequently stayed there. Maybe this was his first visit- who knows? Anyway, the story is familiar. Martha is busy in the kitchen, Mary sits on the floor at Jesus’ feet, fascinated by his teaching. Martha is understandably annoyed at being left to do all the serving herself. It is interesting that she does not speak to Mary directly, though: she speaks to Jesus. “Master, don’t you care…? Tell her…” It is almost as if she thinks it is Jesus’ fault that Mary is so fascinated by him! He is the one who should have realised how over-worked Martha is, he is the one who should have told Mary to get up off the floor and go and help her sister! How often do we blame the Lord for letting this happen! But there is something very affectionate in the way Jesus calls her twice by name, “Martha, Martha!” Yes, I can see that you have such a lot to do, but I haven’t come here simply for food and lodging, but to be with my friends! The dinner can wait, come and sit with me and let us talk.
Jesus is the Peacemaker. Even in little domestic squabbles, he seeks to reconcile. He reconciles by inviting those complaining to listen to him, to sit with him and pay attention to his teaching. Our job now is to go on inviting people to listen to Jesus, rather than trying to sort out the world’s troubles without him. The reason is this, that Jesus, this very human Jesus, is indeed the central figure in all Creation, the One in whom the Creator himself has come to visit us (just as he visited Martha and Mary). That is what Christianity is about, God-with-us, Emmanuel, in Jesus Christ.
Jesus reminded us time and again that we all have One Father in heaven, and that all human beings are brothers and sisters. No one is a stranger, a foreigner, an alien. And what we do to one another, we do to Jesus in whose image we are made. Somehow we must convince the world, and especially the people of violence, the terrorists (of whatever ideology) that this is so.
Theresa May very eloquently expressed her desire to build a society in which old and young, rich and poor, the sick and the healthy, and whatever other contrasts you can think of, are equally cared for. That is a wonderful ideal, but I believe it will only become a reality when we remember that we are (or should be) a Christian nation in which the fundamental truths and values exemplified in the life of Jesus are the bedrock of our beliefs. We are frail human beings, and we often fail to live up to our ideals, but we must not give up on them. When we pray for our daily bread, we must remember to share it fairly with those who lack it. When we pray for forgiveness, we must offer it to those who offend us. When we hear of terrible events, we must not give way to despair or to retaliation. By the blood of his cross Christ saved us, and all other bloodshed is a blasphemy against the love of God.
Filed under: Uncategorized
Sermon preached at All Hallows, Easton, July 3rd 2016
The Gospel story is familiar to us. It is Easter Day, and the disciples have been visited by the risen Lord. But for some reason- no point in speculating what it may have been- Thomas was absent. He did not have that experience. The others tell him, “We have seen the Lord!”, and Thomas can see that evidently they believe it. Their joy must have been manifest, in contrast to the despair following the crucifixion. But compared to the certainty that Jesus was dead (Luke tells us in his Gospel that all the friends of Jesus stood at a distance, witnessing the crucifixion, even if only John was brave enough to stand by Mary at the foot of the cross)- compared with the evidence of his own eyes, what was the value of second-hand testimony? The dead are dead- they don’t come back. As a good Jew, and like Martha, Thomas believed in the resurrection at the end of the world, but not before.
Thomas had been with Jesus for maybe three years. He had seen what Jesus did, he had heard what Jesus taught. He was convinced that Jesus was the Messiah. In Jewish belief, the Messiah was the True King that God would send to bring Israel back from its long estrangement from God, and usher in a new world-order of peace and justice, not just for Israel alone, but for all the nations. New heavens, and a new earth. This was the Hope of Israel, God’s wayward people. Thomas hoped in Jesus, and then Jesus died; and not just died, but was put to death in the most cruel and shameful way. It was not that Thomas ceased to love Jesus his friend and master; but his hope was gone. His friends may have had some sort of vision, they may have seen a ghost- but for Thomas to believe, he needed to see with his own eyes, touch with his own hands.
And eight days later, Jesus comes again, and this time Thomas is there. Think about those eight days, for Thomas. A week in which everyone else is full of joy, full of conviction, while he simply does not know what to think- but he stays with his friends. He does not go off on his own. He remains part of the family. So when Jesus comes, Thomas is ready. When Jesus comes, Thomas does not need to perform all his tests and procedures. And he goes further. This is not just the teacher he has followed for three years, a human being like himself. Human, yes- but much more! The God of Israel himself has manifested himself and is present before him! Jesus almost teases him- “Come on, Thomas, touch, feel! Make certain!” But Thomas simply replies, “My Lord and my God!” The Resurrection means the new world has begun!
Some time ago I read how a famous writer and historian lost his faith after a friend died. He had been a conventional believer, but suddenly, God was gone. “There was no God, and I had no faith…I no longer believed, no longer even wanted to believe.” There are many people who can relate to that, after the death of someone they love, maybe after they have prayed and prayed for a different outcome. While there was life, there was hope. Now, they feel literally hopeless and numb. What is there left for them to believe in?
But eventually, faith returned. The writer realised that he was faced with a choice between a bleak and valueless world, and one where love and forgiveness were at least possibilities. Sitting in Church one Sunday, watching others walking up to the altar, he was overwhelmed with a sense of companionship, gratitude and joy. Reflecting on this, he realised that in one sense he had made his choice, and yet in another sense it was a gift he had received. Like Thomas he had to wait. He could not simply force himself to believe. But he did not abandon his friends who did believe, but whose faith and hope he could not yet share. And when faith returned, it was at the same time both his own choice, and a gift from God. He had not, literally, touched the Lord- but God had touched him.
In our first reading, the prophet is waiting for a word from God, a word of comfort in a time of trial. But God only says, “The vision you want is waiting for the proper time. It’s surely coming, though it seems slow to you. Wait patiently, and trust me.” In our second lesson, St Paul reminds us that we are none of us foreigners in God’s kingdom, we are citizens, fellow citizens with the saints. The Church on earth and the Church in heaven are one family, or like a building partly complete and partly still under construction. We are the part that is still work in progress, and like all work in progress that can be full of frustration and disappointment. Sometimes it is very hard to hope. That is when we must remember that the greatest virtue is neither faith nor hope, important as these are. The greatest thing is to love: to love the God who made us with all our hearts; and to love each other, made in God’s image, as we love ourselves. God, though unseen, loves us; and so, still, do all those we love, but see no longer.