The Raynville Rambler – normal life in Leeds

Many sheep, one flock

Sermon for St Peter’s Bramley, 21^st April 2024.

A. Introduction

“I am the good shepherd”. One of Jesus’ seven “I am” sayings, and a suitable reading for this time of year, when the sheep are turned out into their summer pastures and new lambs are gambolling in the fields.

First, let’s set this in context. When Jesus addressed his critics among the leaders of Judaism, he knew that they had learnt their scriptures by heart, and wouldn’t miss any implied reference. They would know that this whole passage about Jesus being the good shepherd was a reference to chapter 34 of the book of Ezekiel, where God condemns the priests of Israel for failing to look after his people. They would be cast out when the good shepherd came, one who is variously identified either as the Messiah, or as God himself. So Jesus is quite clearly setting himself up for an argument here, by claiming to be both Messiah and God. Also by identifying as the ‘good’ shepherd he is criticising the priests of his day for being bad shepherds. The Greek word used for “good” here – ‘kalos’ – means something like “morally good and perfectly competent”, the priest being by implication immoral and incompetent.

Sheepfold

B. A new understanding

But the verse that I want us to focus on today is verse 16: “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.”

We must remember that the sharp division between Jews and everyone else, which still fuels conflict around the world today, is nothing new. In this chapter of John’s gospel, Jesus starts to teach a new understanding, a totally radical idea in his day, that his Father – the one true God, in his role as a shepherd – wants his flock to consist not only of the Jews but also the Gentiles – everyone else. To those brought up on the idea that being ethnically Jewish gave them a privileged place in God’s sheepfold and under his unique protection, that was not just wrong, but blasphemy.

Indeed, the idea of bringing all peoples into one flock can only begin to make sense in the context of the relationship between Jesus, his heavenly father, and the Holy Spirit who conveys their love to the world: in other words, the love of the Trinity. That is a specifically Christian concept, the idea that God’s love for the whole world can through the Holy Spirit be found within his people.

Ripples

C. Who are the other sheep?

But who are these “other sheep not of this sheepfold”? I suggest that like waves rippling out from a stone thrown into a pond, we can consider several waves of the mission of Jesus and his church to find and bring home these other sheep.

First, in his own lifetime, were the outcasts of his own society, the Jews ostracised for having leprosy, physical disability, children outside marriage or anything else considered to make them unclean. Throughout his ministry he loved, included and healed them.

Secondly, the Samaritans, Israel’s northern neighbours, who long ago had been part of the flock but were now looked on with suspicion at best. Jesus’ own ministry and teaching showed his concern for them.

Thirdly, to the rest of the Greek and Roman world that lay beyond. Jesus’ great commission to his disciples before he ascended to heaven was to go to “Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria and all the ends of the earth”. In that order. The book of Acts shows that sequence unfolding.

Finally, through the rest of time, and through the Christian church, the mission of inclusion was to spread through all continents and all sectors of society. There were to be no barriers to which sheep could be drawn into the ever-expanding sheepfold of the church.

Two men on a lifeboat

D. One flock, one shepherd

That brings me to my next point. “There will be one flock, one shepherd”. Let me tell you a story – with apologies to anyone who has ever belonged to a Baptist church. This isn’t really aimed at you.

There were two survivors of a shipwreck. As they got talking on their liferaft, one asked the other:

“Do you believe in God?”

“Why, yes, I do”

“Do you believe in Jesus?”

“Indeed, I believed he saved us from our sins.”

“Excellent! Pleased to meet you, brother. And to which church do you belong?”

“I am a Baptist.”

“Me too! Strict, Particular or Reformed Baptist?”

“Oh, Reformed of course, strict Calvinism isn’t for me!”

“I quite agree! But which particular form of reformed Baptist theology do you follow? Continental, Confessional, Sovereign Grace…”

“I belong to a Baptist Union congregation, part of the Inclusive church network”

“Inclusive church? Heretic! (spitting) The 1689 Baptist Confession is the only true church. I shall not speak to you again!”

Throughout history the Church has had a tendency to split over questions of belief or practice, most of which reflect the glorious cultural diversity of people across the world. But how sad it is, how Jesus’ heart is broken, when sheep of his one flock turn on one another! As Ezekiel put it, “You pushed with flank and shoulder, and butted all the weak animals with your horns until you scattered them far and wide”.

E. Jesus the cornerstone

That tendency to split has been in the church from the beginning. Perhaps that’s why, when Peter was on trial before the High Priest, to justify his healing miracle in the name of Jesus, the Holy Spirit prompted him to quote from the Psalms the verse about a cornerstone, and apply it to Jesus. There are several hymns and worship songs that pick up on this image, quite a different one from that of sheep, but let’s remind ourselves what it means.

The idea of God laying a foundation, or a cornerstone, or a keystone or capstone, are found throughout the Bible – in the Psalms, Isaiah, and the writings of Peter and Paul. They convey slightly different concepts but it’s all about unity. A foundation stops a building subsiding.

Cornerstone Keystone

A cornerstone makes sure the walls are at right angles. A capstone holds the roof together to stop rain getting in. And a keystone holds together the two sides of an arch that are each unstable by themselves.

So in describing Jesus as one of these special stones, Peter is aware of the dangers of the church subsiding into the soft ground of muddied thinking, or going off in the wrong direction, or failing to hold together as one and becoming several unstable elements that won’t connect with each other. It is only when we recognise in each other the unity we have in Jesus Christ – our good shepherd, the perfect image of God in us – that we can resist that temptation.

F. Implications for our mission

So what does all this imply for our mission as one part of the Church of Jesus Christ revealing God’s love in Bramley? Three things:

Firstly, we must recognise that although we meet in different buildings, and worship in different ways, these other sheep are part of the one flock. Our sisters and brothers in the Baptist, Methodist, Catholic, Salvation Army and other congregations are really all in the same sheepfold.

Secondly, when we pray, we pray as one. Not just with our immediate neighbours in Christ but with his whole church throughout the world, each part of which will reflect its own cultural practices and struggle with its own political situation. Although we are a scattered flock, let us never forget our spiritual ancestry as sons of Abraham. So when we pray, as we must, for peace in Israel, Gaza and that wider region, it is right to ask God to protect the Jewish people in their ancestral homeland that He promised them. But let us not be drawn into taking sides in the ancient hatreds that still perpetuate war. Jew, Muslim or Christian, the people of the middle east, or anywhere else, are those ‘sheep of another fold’ whom Jesus wants to seek and draw to himself.

Finally, and turning back to our own lives, let us pray to have the eyes and heart of Jesus. For it is only if he lives in us by his Holy Spirit, that we will see others around us as the lost sheep that it is our calling to find, heal, and bring back into the fold.

To the Church in Headingley

Sermon for Evensong at St Michael & All Angels, Headingley, 21^st April 2024. Text: Revelation 2:12-17

So, the Revelation to John, Chapter two. I suspect there are few preachers who whoop for joy when they find the text for the day is from this last book of the Bible, and I’m not one of them. It is notoriously difficult to understand, since it contains so much symbolism that made sense at the time of writing but is obscure to us two thousand years later. And, we don’t really do this kind of ‘apocalyptic’ writing these days. When people talk of the apocalypse, they are really thinking of some kind of dystopia, maybe the aftermath of a nuclear war or something.

But this revelation to John in his island retreat was meant to be an encouragement to him and the Christians he was writing to. The “seven letters to local churches” were intended for Christians facing persecution, to get them to look beyond their immediate troubles and find hope in their commitment to Jesus. Good advice I have received is not to focus in detail on what particular imagery might mean, but to try and understand the big picture of what Jesus was telling his church at that time.

Why does Jesus, through John, address church communities rather than individuals? Because the strength of Christianity lies in the local church, whether in worship, witness or action. Alone, we can do little; together, we can achieve much. Also, because in times of difficulty, there is an increased need to gather together for security and mutual encouragement. We see that right from the start of the Church, in the upper room on Easter evening, the disciples gathered “with doors locked for fear of the Jews”.

Each local Christian community – each parish or even congregation within a parish – will have its own feel, its own local traditions, and its own difficulties. As someone who has always appreciated the breadth of traditions within the Church of England, it’s lovely to be part of two very different services in one day. We had our usual Common Worship communion this morning at my local church in Bramley, where we have a very diverse congregation but in particular lots of young families from different cultural and ethnic backgrounds. The mainly contemporary worship songs were led by an older couple on guitar and flute, and a younger couple singing. Quite a contrast to this more traditional language service with choir and organ, but I find spiritual encouragement in both. In John’s day, I expect it was no different.

Each of these local Christian communities in second-century Asia Minor, then, receives a particular message from Jesus, which in each case both praises and criticises them, before offering a promise for those who stay faithful in the face of persecution. The praises, the criticisms, and the promises are specific to each place, because Jesus always knows that each church community faces particular challenges and has particular strengths.

Today’s reading is to the Christians of Pergamos – modern day Bergama, a city fifteen miles inland on the Asian side of Turkey. They are praised for holding fast to their faith, even when at least one of them has been killed for it. In the other letters, congregations are praised for their hard work, perseverance, keeping Christ’s word and not denying his name. The emphasis is not about becoming martyrs but being true to the Christian worldview when the world is going in other directions. In our own time, it is increasingly hard to stand up for tolerance, truth and neighbourly love when society is becoming more divided, and false news and lies are all around us.

On the other hand, they are criticised for two things. Firstly for holding to the teaching of Balaam. This refers to the Old Testament book of Numbers, where the prophet Balaam, despite being told by God to bless the people of Israel, also encouraged them to sin in ways that we would still find unacceptable today. And for holding the teaching of the Nicolaitans – we’re not quite sure who they were, but from the context they were doing the same in their day, following the religious and sexual practices of the people around them rather than being distinctive in following Christian ethics.

So the overall message to the church in Pergamos seems to be: keep your faith, even when times are difficult, and be careful not to let the ways of the world compromise the way you practice your faith.

What, I wonder, would Jesus say to the church in Headingley? I believe he praises you for holding together as a benefice of three quite different churches, each responding to the needs of the age in a different way. St Chad’s is taking a lead on environmental issues, its rewilded churchyard and solar panels an example to other churches across the Diocese of how we might respond to the environmental crisis. Heston at All Hallows has developed a distinctive ministry inclusive of people with all kinds of physical, financial and spiritual needs, and engaging with those of other faiths to find common ground in serving the needs of the parish.

Here at St Michael’s he praises you for engaging in the cultural and civic life of Headingley, showing a commitment to being inclusive, and worshipping him in words and music that seek to express the spiritual life within us, whether in contemporary or traditional style.

But for what would he criticise you? To quote the words of the confession that we said earlier, what have you as a community, left undone that you ought to have done, or done that you ought not to have done? I do not live among you, and it’s not for me to judge you. But I leave you to ponder that.

The praises, in any event, are more important than the criticisms. As the Psalmist said, “God’s anger lasts only a moment, but his favour lasts a lifetime”. So at the end of each of the letters is a promise. The promises are expressed symbolically and addressed this time to individuals rather than congregations. The Christians in Pergamos are promised the ‘hidden manna’, probably the reason this reading is paired with the one from Exodus. The manna, the miraculous bread from heaven, has always been understood by the Church to be not only a sign of God’s provision to those in need, but also a foretaste of the eternal life that comes through Jesus to those who believe in him: Jesus who called himself the ‘bread of life’.

The other promise is of a white stone with a secret name. What that means is less obvious, but it may be a way of saying that we need to treasure our deepest faith, our most intimate understanding of God, in the secrecy of our own heart. That way, whatever life may throw at us, our faith in Christ is kept secure.

Other symbolic promises in this set of letters include “eating from the tree of life”, “not being hurt by the second death”, “the right to sit with Jesus on his throne”, “being dressed in white”; and being given “authority over the nations”. One of the threads running through the New Testament is that our rewards for living faithfully in this life will be given us in the next. It is of course impossible to really know what such existence will be like, but the Revelation reminds us to look beyond the troubles of this life and stick with Jesus along the way.

So if I can sum up what we can learn from this small part of the last book of the Bible, it is this: that as part of the churches in Headingley, as well as the wider Church of England and indeed the Church of Christ throughout the world, we must recognise the tension between engaging with the world and retaining our distinctiveness as Christians. We can celebrate the diversity within and between our congregations, while seeking to find the specific ministry that each local church has to its parish. And that while there will no doubt be aspects of our church life that could be criticised, much more important is to hear the words of Jesus praising us for when we get it right, for by holding to our faith in him and seeking to respond to his call, we know we shall inherit that eternal life that only He can give.

Faith seeking understanding

A sermon for Maundy Thursday at St Peter’s Bramley
Readings: Exodus 12:1-14 / John 13:1-35

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you didn’t understand what was going on? I recall at least two such occasions, one secular and one spiritual.

A couple of years ago, my manager invited me to a meeting. I was given only a vague idea of what it was about and didn’t know who else would be present. I entered the room to find my manager talking to two people I didn’t know. I took my seat and the conversation continued without reference to me. Eventually I could stand it no longer and I interrupted, to ask if we could have some introductions, and some context for the conversation so that I could understand the discussion and join in. Afterwards my manager apologised, and agreed that there should have been introductions and an agenda.

Back in the 1990s, as those who have been Christians a long time ago may recall, there was a worldwide spiritual revival called the Toronto Blessing. Some members of my congregation had been to the New Wine Christian festival that year, and when they returned to the local church, several of them had changed in what seemed to me very odd ways. One young woman who was normally very shy and quiet had become much more confident in her faith and told of how the Holy Spirit had physically thrown her across the room. One older lady found that whenever the Bible was read aloud, she would shake uncontrollably. Others had received the gift of tongues for the first time. I’m not doubting that any of these experiences were genuine for those concerned, but to me it was disconcerting, and if I’m honest a bit frightening.

Both our readings today, as we remember Jesus’ last supper with his disciples before the crucifixion, are about people confused and frightened by spiritual goings-on. Put yourself in the position of the Israelite people: not Moses and Aaron, but the ordinary folk: the shepherds, brickmakers, straw-gatherers, male and female slaves, children in the street. They had experienced a series of plagues the like of which no-one had seen before: frogs, gnats, locusts, hail… it must have been truly terrifying. And now they are told what they must do to avoid their eldest sons being killed by the angel of death: they were to kill a lamb, spread its blood around the door, roast and eat it – but not with the usual vegetables, instead with bitter herbs and unleavened bread. And to dress for the occasion: not in their best clothes, but in belted tunic and sandals, holding a staff. The outfit of a pilgrim. And to eat the meat in haste, because as soon as the meal was over, they would have to flee for their lives.

Did the people act on these strange instructions? It seems they did, as the Exodus story givens no hint of any of them being left behind. In confusion they followed Moses and Aaron across the plains to the Red Sea, and we all know what happened next.

Move forward perhaps thirteen hundred years. Jesus’ disciples had already seen many miracles and other odd happenings over the last few years with Jesus, and other events more recently may not have made much sense, such as Jesus’ riding into Jerusalem on a donkey. But now they had been sent ahead to prepare the Upper Room for the Passover meal. At least they knew what to expect this time. There was a set menu, and the story of the Exodus was repeated word for word every year.

Except, this time it wasn’t. Jesus, their Lord and Messiah, acted like a slave in washing their feet. He used the occasion to warn of his imminent betrayal and death. Judas left the room to go about some unspecified business, which Jesus understood but the rest didn’t. Jesus started talking about his body and blood instead of bread and wine. And then, like the people of Israel in Egypt, as soon as the meal was ended they were ushered out into the darkness on a journey to – what? Very, very, strange. But again, there’s no suggestion that anyone was left behind. Without understanding, but with complete trust in Jesus, they followed on to find out what happened next.

What is it that makes people join in and follow without fully understanding what’s going on? In a word, faith. In our Start course sessions during Lent, we have discussed how much we need to understand about the Bible and the Christian life to set out on a journey of faith. The answer seems to be, not very much. If we can grasp the essentials, the rest will follow in good time. And there’s good precedent for this: the 11^th century theologian Anslem of Canterbury is perhaps best known for his three-word summary of Christian theology as being ‘Faith seeking understanding’. Faith comes first; understanding follows.

But what is this faith that we can grasp, before fully understanding it? The connection between the Exodus and Holy Week is no coincidence. In God’s master plan, one was always intended as a shadow, a prequel if you like, for the other. The details may have been different, but the core message was the same. I suggest it can be reduced, like Anselm’s summary of theology, to three words:

Lamb, blood, salvation.

The descendants of Jacob who ended up in Egypt were pastoral nomads. Lambs would be slaughtered as a sacrifice to God, and the meat would have been a regular part of their diet. But in this special feast it took on a new significance. The blood of the lamb, in particular, was used in this new ritual of marking the doors for protection against death. And through this Exodus, this going out from the plague-stricken land of Egypt, not only would their firstborn be saved from imminent death, but the whole of the twelve tribes would be saved from the wrath of Pharaoh. They didn’t understand at the time what was happening, but later they did, and passed the story down the generations until Jesus took it up that Passover eve in Jerusalem.

What Jesus did on Good Friday was to take this story of salvation through the blood of the lamb and make it his own. Not without reason did John the Baptist call Jesus the Lamb of God: it’s a title that has come down through the centuries. In his one, perfect sacrifice for sin, Jesus did away with the need for any other kind of sacrifice, whether of lambs or anything else. By inviting his disciples, and all who would follow, to share the cup of wine in remembrance of the shedding of his blood, we are united with each other and with those who came before us in the story of salvation. In his death, through the shedding of innocent blood, and through his resurrection that echoes the people if Israel coming up out of the waters of the Red Sea, Jesus has led us out from the slavery of sin, into the freedom of a life with God, without the fear of his wrath.

Those disciples didn’t understand, in the Upper Room, what all this was about. Later, after the Resurrection, Ascension and Pentecost, they did, the Gospel was preached, then written and passed down the centuries to us.

Now, it is for you and me to take this story and make it our own. To have faith in our Saviour, faith that throughout our life seeks a deeper understanding. To pass it on to new generations, that they too may know, believe and understand. This is his story: this is our song.

Lamb, blood, salvation.

Amen.

What would Jesus write?

For Ash Wednesday, 14^th February 2024. Text: John 8:1-11

Jesus writing on the ground

Picture the scene: we are in the outer courtyard of the Temple in Jerusalem, at the time of the Feast of Booths, around the beginning of October. Jesus is teaching to the appreciative crowds who have come to hear him, but among them are some of Jesus’ opponents who are looking to find more evidence that he has broken Jewish laws.

A woman is brought in – unwillingly no doubt, perhaps even kicking and shouting – and dumped on the ground before Jesus, as ‘exhibit A’ in this kangaroo court. Here is someone who has clearly broken the law, the commandment forbidding adultery. Surely Jesus would not fail to judge her and find her guilty? Would he? Well, at the end of the story, while he did not condemn her, neither did he condone her part in the relationship, because he told her to sin no more. After that experience, I’m sure she didn’t.

But despite the title of this passage in most Bibles, this isn’t really about the woman. It’s about the men who brought her to Jesus, using her as a pawn to entrap him. And it’s Jesus’ response to them that I want us to ponder this Lent.

Challenged by them to give his judgement, Jesus doesn’t reply immediately. He lets them put their case for the prosecution before commenting, and as they do so, he writes something in the dust on the ground with his finger. This is one of those bits of the Bible where you really wish the writer had given us a bit more detail. Go on, John, tell us what Jesus wrote! There have been many suggestions over the years. Was it Deuteronomy 22:22, that made the man involved just as deserving of death as his victim? Was it the Sh’ma Y’Israel, the Jewish daily prayer in which believers are reminded to avoid the lust of the heart and eyes?[1] Was it the names of men in the community known to be two-timing their own wives? Was it all the ten commandments, meaning that no-one could claim to have kept all of them? Or maybe the sign of the cross? You can find several sermons on YouTube giving other suggestions, but no-one can be certain.

Whatever he wrote, it had the desired effect when he did speak. And he spoke not to the woman to condemn her, but to her accusers. He challenged anyone without sin to cast the first stone. In the light of Jesus’ writing, none of them dared risk the charge of hypocrisy by pretending to be perfect. Jesus alone had the moral authority to call out the men’s sexism.

Bracelet with WWJD

Some years ago it was common in the Church to hear the phrase ‘What Would Jesus Do?’ Some people even wore wristbands with that phrase on them. But today the question is, ‘What would Jesus write?’ Maybe you are aware that you have accused someone else of sin – to their face, or just in your heart. If you were to bring them to Jesus, telling him all about their sins and asking him to condmen them, what would he write on the ground with you in mind?

Leaving aside suitable Bible verses, I was reminded of several common English idioms that he might use.

“Those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones”, perhaps? This reminds us that it’s difficult to criticise others without a charge of hypocrisy, as we all have our own failings and the stones that are thrown back may cause a lot more damage to us than we have caused to them.

“Walk a mile in her shoes”, perhaps? We don’t know the background of this act of adultery. Is it more likely in a male-dominated society that the woman seduced her neighbour’s husband, or that he forced himself on her? Was this an ongoing relationship or a one-off incident? And where did it happen that they were observed? It’s frustrating to say the least when other people criticise us for our faults without knowing what lies behind them. Equally, we don’t know the background of someone else’s apparent failings,

“There but for the grace of God go I”[2] are words that wouldn’t really apply to Jesus, but he might well invite us to apply them to ourselves if we are tempted to judge someone else’s behaviour. It can often only take one unforeseen incident or change in circumstances to force someone into poverty or homelessness, for example, and as a result end up shoplifting to survive. Can we really say we wouldn’t do the same in their circumstances?

“To err is human: to forgive, divine”[3]. That reminds us that the person we accuse of sin is, after all, only human like ourselves. We may want to be quick to condemn them for something we know we would not have done ourselves. But even if their sin is different from ours in nature or degree, we are all in the same position of needing God’s forgiveness for something. And the more we know God’s forgiveness in our own lives, the easier it becomes to forgive others.

How about this phrase, a little less well known: “A hundred pounds of sorrow pays not one ounce of debt”. It’s worth noting that the concept of sin has changed several times in religious history. One of the Jewish understandings of sin, was that is is not so much a breaking of rules, as a debt. If I sin against my neighbour, I owe her a debt, which might be repaid in a literal way by making a gift or a payment, by writing an apology, or by making efforts to restore a broken relationship. But if I sin against God, how can I ever repay a debt to him? The proverb is a reminder that repentance is more than saying sorry, it needs a genuine changing of our ways. It also reminds us that God’s forgiveness made posible through Christ’s sacrifice is one that we can never earn.

But I want to draw this reflection to a close with some verses from the letter of James. This apostle, possibly Jesus’ brother, is perhaps best known for his writings about good deeds being as important as faith. But he also wrote this: “For the one who said, ‘You shall not commit adultery’, also said, ‘You shall not murder.’ Now if you do not commit adultery but if you murder, you have become a transgressor of the law. So speak and so act as those who are to be judged by the law of liberty. For judgement will be without mercy to anyone who has shown no mercy; mercy triumphs over judgement”[4].

We all tend to judge others, but this passage about the men who brought a sinner to Jesus, along with many others in the Gospels, shows that Jesus’ approach to the Jewish law was radical. Time after time, he shows that while actual sins need to be acknowledged and repented of, the greatest element in God’s character is his ‘ḥesed’, his loving mercy. If something your neighbour has done or said offends you, before you criticise them openly or pray for them as a sinner, bear this in mind, that if you do not condemn them, neither does Jesus. He knows their sin: it is for him to forgive; it is for you to show mercy, that God’s mercy may be shown to you. Mercy triumphs over judgement.

On me, Lord, have mercy, On me, Christ, have mercy. Amen.

[1] Numbers 15:39

[2] Often attributed to John Bradford (C16) but uncertain.

[3] Alexander Pope, 1711

[4] James 2:11-13

Present at the Presentation

Text: Luke 2:22-40

Bramley St Peter, 28 January 2024

The context of the sermon is the baptism of two children of the same family.

You have come together as an extended family to celebrate this special occasion, maybe representing several generations and with differing experiences of church.

I want us to think about the people gathered when Jesus was brought to the Temple as a baby and what they might say to us about our experience of God, of families, and of church. And although we now have video screens, I’m turning to the older art form of stained glass for our illustration of Jesus being brought the the Temple in Jerusalem, not to be baptised but to be dedicated to God.

Stained glass window

We are fortunate to have this splendid window by the font, illustrating today’s Bible reading. On the right we have Simeon and Anna. Simeon was a holy man who for many years had believed that one day he would see the Messiah, the saviour. Many people in his time expected Messiah to be a strong political or military leader. Yet Simeon was open to God’s Holy Spirit and also open to being proved wrong. When he saw Jesus, he understood by that same Spirit that here was the Messiah. He knew as an old man that he would not live to see Jesus grow to adulthood, teach, work miracles and suffer for us. It was enough for Simeon to have seen Jesus even as a baby. He could then, as the older translations put it, ‘depart in peace’, in other words, he could die knowing that God’s promise to him had been fulfilled in his own life and that God’s promise to the world would be fulfilled soon. So the message to older people is, what promises has God made to you during your life? Which of them have you seen come true to thank him for, and which are you still longing and praying for? What will enable you to depart in peace?

Anna was aged eighty-four, which in those days was exceptionally old. She had been widowed from a young age but was still heavily involved in the life of the Temple. When tragedy strikes such as the death of someone’s partner at a young age, the temptation is to turn away from God, to think that if he exists at all, he is cruel. But Anna never lost her faith, in fact it grew deeper with age and she quietly supported the work of the Temple in prayer. So to anyone who thinks that God or life, has treated them unfairly, the message is: stick with God, keep your faith and remain part of the Church, for that’s where you will find your meaning.

Anna too was open to the Holy Spirit, and when she saw Jesus, it says, ‘she spoke about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem’. So this wasn’t a private family occasion, the Temple was full of worshippers and this old woman – not a priest or a theologian but someone with deep personal faith – had the boldness to be the first to proclaim the Gospel of salvation through Jesus in Jerusalem. Just as at the Resurrection, it was a woman who brought the good news. So to anyone who thinks they are too old or unqualified to have a ministry in church, the message is: think again! Be open to what God wants to do through you.

On the left side of the window we have Jesus’ mother Mary and her husband Joseph. Joseph doesn’t get many mentions in the Bible, and none after Jesus was aged twelve, so we assume he died some time after that. Like Simeon, he would never see his son fulfil his destiny, so what was his part in the story? Well, many Christians believe in the virgin birth, that Joseph was not Jesus’ natural father. But it was Joseph, not Mary, who was decended from the great King David a thousand or so years earlier. God’s promise that one of David’s descendants would rule his people for ever would come true in Jesus, so Joseph’s role was to adopt Jesus as (in effect) his stepson, and be the perfect father to bring him to the verge of adulthood. What an important role! So to all the parents out there, whether your children are your own, or adopted, or step-children, the message is: rejoice in this calling, to be the best parent you can, to bring your children to adulthood in a way that will enable them to fulfil their own vocation and destiny.

And Mary. The mother of our Lord. Not only did she become a single parent at some point, but Simeon’s prophecy could have offended and distressed her. What must it feel like to be told as a new mother that your child would be opposed by many people, and that his own death would be like a sword piercing your soul? Mary knew then, if she didn’t already, that she would outlive her son – something that no parent wants to happen – and that his death would be a painful one. How much grief she had to bear through her life! Yet her reaction to this was to be ‘amazed’. She, too, remained faithful to God and faithful to her son. So to anyone who has lived through the death of a child, or who faces that prospect, the message is: turn to Christ, who is faithful. Put your trust in him who understands all your feelings, all your grief. Even Jesus wept at the death of a friend. Yet at the heart of the Gospel is resurrection to eternal life.

Below the parents is another figure, probably intended to be an angel, holding two doves. These were the offering expected of a poor family that could not afford a sacrificial lamb. It shows us that Jesus’ family was not well off. We know that Jesus had several younger brothers and sisters. Joseph must have had to work hard as a carpenter to provide for them all. Being poor is no shame and no barrier to being a Christian, in fact, much of Jesus’ own teaching is that the less we depend on wealth, the closer we will be to God. So to anyone who works hard to provide for their family, or has money problems, know that the Holy Family shared that experience too. It’s also a challenge to all of us in the church to be open to sharing what we do have with others, so that all families can have what they need.

What about Jesus himself? First, a bit of history for our own congregation. You may notice if you look carefully that the baby Jesus has the face of an older person, and appears to have red hair. The window was installed in 1910, to mark the retirement of Revd Samuel Cope, Curate and then Vicar of Bramley for 43 years, and he apparently was a redhead. He was popular in the parish for his care for the children in the church.

But back to Jesus. It would be thirty years before he himself was baptised and started his ministry of preaching and healing. In that time he was faithful to God, faithful to his parents, and was, it says here, ‘strong and wise’. So to young people wondering what lies ahead in life, I say: honour your parents, seek wisdom, be of strong character, and always be open to the way God will lead you. The day will come, sooner or later, when he will make your life’s calling clear to you.

So what have we learnt from these characters and their story? I suggest that it shows us above all that God’s will and his timing are beyond our own ideas of what constitutes a ‘good life’ or a ‘long life’ or a ‘successful career’. Simeon and Anna had a long time to wait for their moment to come in old age but were open to embracing it when it came; Anna didn’t let her husband’s early death prevent her from living a long and holy life; Joseph probably died in middle age but had fulfilled his vocation by working hard and living up to his calling as a parent; Mary clung on to God’s promises despite all the heartache that her life would bring. Between them, they launched Jesus on his unique life, a life and death that would bring salvation to everyone, then and now.

Maybe for you, the time to respond to God’s call is now. Our church’s vision for this coming year is to grow in faith and in numbers. If anything you hear today makes you want to find out more about the Christian faith, we have a course coming up that may interest you – details to follow in the church news slot later in the service. Or you may wish to ask for prayer after the service for whatever life is throwing at you right now. Let’s pray.

Lord God,
The protector of all who trust in you,
Without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy;
Increase and multiply upon us your mercy,
That you being our ruler and guide,
We may so pass through things temporal
That we finally lose not the things eternal.
Grant this, heavenly Father,
For the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Serving together

For New Year’s Eve 2023. Text: Colossians 1:9-20

Paisley Abbey. © david cameron photographer licensed for reuse under Creative Commons Licence

Today, starting in about an hour’s time, TV screens across the world will begin to show fireworks being set off, first in the easternmost territories of the Pacific ocean, then westwards all around the world as the spinning globe turns once more on its axis, taking us into what most of the world counts as the two thousand and twenty-fourth year of the current era. It’s a festival that brings together people of many religions and ethnicities, a celebration that knows no boundaries other than those of time zones, a rare moment when the whole world can party together in recognition of our common humanity.

Last week I explored what it meant for Christ to come as a light into the darkness, and for us to welcome Christ into our individual lives, bringing light into whatever dark situations we and our families may find ourselves in. This week I want to widen our horizons and think about what it means to welcome Christ into our church community, here and around the world. So I’m going to ask you to spend a few minutes sharing your ideas and experiences with the person next to you.

Later, I will invite you to share in the covenant prayer, an annual act of commitment that started with the Methodist church but now used by many different churches. It’s a prayer said, not at home as individuals, but together as a community. Many people each making the same promises, and being accountable to each other for living up to the promises that we make. Paul wrote his letter not to one person, but as it says in verse 2, to “the saints and faithful brothers and sisters in Colossae”. So my first question for you to spend two minutes sharing with your neighbour is:

Does your experience of being a Christian feel more like a personal journey, or of being part of the journey of faith of the whole Church?

The nature of Christian churches does, of course, vary widely, and those different types of congregation will be held together by different common purposes. Consider these different groups and what it is that binds them together:

A traditional Orthodox, Catholic or Anglican church centred around the weekly or daily liturgy of the Mass or Communion service.
A village church centred around the activities of the village: farming, school terms, summer tourists, annual fairs and shows.
An inner-city church responding to its deprived neighbourhood through foodbanks, counselling, teaching and other ministries, that involve most of its members in some way.
A small house church that centres around regular gatherings for prayer, worship and Bible study.
An intentional community of Christian families living together, each with its own daily work to bring money into the community, but sharing most of their resources and often eating together.
A ‘gathered’ urban church where people come from all over the city to share a particular style of worship and preaching.

So my second question to discuss in pairs, as we prepare to renew or covenant with God, is this –

Which of these have you experienced in your Christian journey? And which is most like St Peter’s as it is, or as you would like it to be?

None of these types of congregations with a common purpose come about overnight, as Christian culture like any other is built up over the years as people come together and find common purpose. Working or worshipping together slowly builds connections. It also builds confidence in each other as members of the church come to see each other first as strangers, then as people with something in common, then as friends and finally as part of the one body.

In verse 18 of the reading from Colossians, Paul says something important: “Christ is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy”. Great though it is to have a committed Rector like Julia, and for all the benefits of our Church of England’s system of bishops and parishes, we must never forget that the Head of the Church, ultimately, is not an Archbishop or Pope, but Christ himself. If a Church splits over some issue of doctrine or practice, what matters is not so much which side has a better argument, but whether they can continue to accept each other as brothers and sisters in Christ, engaged in different forms of ministry. As Paul puts it in verse 20, “God was pleased … through Christ to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven”. That ministry of reconciliation is also ours: to be reconciled to other Christians whose idea of what a successful church looks like is different from our own, in order that together we can act as Christ’s family in the world, doing his will to the glory of God. And also to be reconciled to the people around us who for whatever reason may feel that the church is ‘not for them’. So the last question for you to share, before we sing our next hymn, is this:

What might a ‘ministry of reconciliation’ look like in our community?

After the Party

Sermon for Christmas Eve at St Peter’s, Bramley

Text: John 1:1-14

It was a wonderful Christmas party, perhaps the best they had ever organised. The room was candlelit. Everyone who had been invited turned up, along with some friends who hadn’t. Some of them were dressed to the nines and brought gifts of champagne and flowers, some less well dressed with just a bottle of cheap wine, and some, well, we can overlook the jeans and work boots, but to bring nothing? Never mind, the house was full, Christmas lights were twinkling, music tinkling, glasses chinking, conversation flowing. The hosts enjoyed every minute of it, even if they never sat down themselves.

After midnight people started drifting away. Soon, the party was over. Then, the morning after. Not just the hangover, the piles of washing up, the tidying. It was the darkness. The darkness outside of another dismal December day, but also the darkness inside. The unpaid credit card bill. The new neighbours with their antisocial behaviour (who of course hadn’t been invited). The recently diagnosed illness that they hadn’t dared talk about to the guests. And most of all, the depression that so easily settles when reality hits and problems that won’t go away have to be faced.

In some ways, it was the same for Mary and Joseph. What a party they had that night! The glory of the Lord shone round about the stable, the angels sang, the wise men came in all their finery with gold, frankincense and myrrh, the shepherds came, underdressed and offering a symbolic lamb, and maybe the innkeeper even turned up with a flagon of the best Galilean wine. Everyone praised the newborn baby, to add to the prophecy Mary had already received. They were, that night, the most blessed family on earth.

But the shepherds returned to their fields, the magi hurried away for fear of Herod, the angels ceased their singing and the star faded. It was just another cold winter’s night in the unheated stable, far from home and with a newborn baby to care for. On top of that, the Magi’s warning of Herod’s wrath was weighing on their minds, and before long they were to become asylum seekers in Egypt. It must have felt a very dark time for them, when the party was over.

All these details of the familiar nativity story come either from the first three gospel accounts: Mark, Matthew and Luke, or later traditions. John starts his gospel in a very different way. It seems unimportant to him exactly when and where Jesus was born, or who visited him. This unique event was not to be limited to just one night in Bethlehem, or even the few years from the annunciation to Mary to the return from Egypt. The coming into the world of the very Word of God was, no, is, an event that ripples through space and time, affecting even this night our understanding of the world.

So how, on this Christmas night, does this cosmic event speak to us? Where is the darkness that threatens us, that will still be there when the Christmas celebrations are over? Our circumstances are all different. The darkness may be within our own minds, within our families, within the community we live in, or the problems of the world at large. As we walk through life, certain events will seem to cast a dark shadow over us. In my own household this year, we’ve had to cope with illness, injury, unemployment and expensive building works.

The apostle John wrote for people who were Jews by birth but, unlike their leaders, believed Jesus was the Son of God. Religious disagreement led to division, division to separation, and separation, for some, to martyrdom. A very dark time for the early Church, and no doubt one reason why John writes his prologue in terms of light versus darkness: the light of faith in Christ expressed in the love of the community, versus the darkness of unbelief and persecution from both Jews and Romans¹.

A beacon of fire blazing on a dark night — *© Copyright Tiger and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence*

Yet at the heart of this familiar passage is verse 5: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it”. This last phrase has been translated in many ways: the darkness “has never put out” the light, “could not overpower it”, “has not understood it”, “did not comprehend it”, “has not seized it”² , or “has not welcomed it”.³. Taken together, these give us the powerful idea that the light is something that may be opposed, but is stronger than what opposes it, and ultimately cannot be stopped. There is no suggestion in the Gospel that the darkness ceases to exist when the light comes. Rather, the light prevents the darkness from having power over those who come to the light.

Later in his Gospel, John records Jesus saying “Believe in the light, that you may become children of light”, and again, “He who follows will not walk in darkness, but have the light of life”. ⁴ What John’s declaration to his community tells us is that whatever form darkness takes, the fact that God sent his son to become a man, born of a woman, has turned on a light that the darkness cannot turn out. And that light can be within each one of us.

This light is not about self-fulfilment. It’s a tapping into the glory of Christ who is ever present, connecting us with the rest of his community. As if the Star of Bethlehem rises within each of us whenever we turn, as it were, to the east: engaging in worship and prayer, paying attention to the divine source of that light. Just as a light turned on in a room gives light to that room even though it’s still dark outside, so the inner light of Jesus can help us to feel the brightness, the warmth, the comfort of his presence and of being part of his community, even though life’s circumstances may seem dark around us.

I therefore encourage you all to rejoice this night as we remember the birth of Jesus, and to celebrate the festival with your friends and family. And when the parties are over and normal life resumes through the winter, don’t forget that the Church keeps the season of Christmas right through January, finishing with the celebration of Candlemas on 2^nd February. May you take this Christmas season to find the light of Christ within you. A light that can never be extinguished. Thanks be to God.

Ashton, John, “Understanding the Fourth Gospel”, Clarendon 1991, pp 166-170
↩︎
German: “die Finsternis hat es nicht erfaßt” ↩︎
French: “les ténèbres ne l’ont pas accueillie” ↩︎
Ashton (op.cit.) p.209, quoting John 12:36 and John 8:12
↩︎

Stick with Love: giving

Sermon for Bramley St Peter, 3 December 2022

Readings: 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 ; Luke 14:12-14

The congregation were first of all asked some questions, which set the scene for the rest of the talk…

What do the following have in common: the City of Aberdeen, the Royal School of Church Music, the Duchy of Lorraine, and the Greek Navy? Their patron saint is St Nicholas.
When is the feast day of St Nicholas? 6 December.
Who visited this church last weekend and has recently written a book that features St Nicholas? Bishop Arun. His book is titled “Stick with Love”
Here’s the last question, which may seem unrelated but isn’t, as we’ll see shortly. I read something recently about a woman who was criticised on social media for (quote) ‘only’ spending a hundred pounds on each of her children at Christmas. We don’t have children ourselves, and I’m a bit out of touch with these things. So, I looked online to find out the average amount that British parents do spend on each child? According to a recent survey, is it (a) £35, (b) £70, (c) £100 or (d) £190? Answer either (c) or (d): Median £100, Mean £190. In other words,the woman in the story was being criticised for being average, and that’s what commercial pressure does to us – it pushes up expectations.

Let’s draw those threads together. Arun’s book takes us through the season of Advent, which starts today, looking at a famous Christian each day to see what we can learn from them. Some are historical saints; others have become famous in our own time. Saint Nicholas appears of course on 6^th December. He was a real person, a Christian bishop in what is now Turkey about three hundred years after the time of Christ. Historically he was one of the most widely celebrated Christian saints of all time.

What he was most known for was his generosity to the poor. One famous story about him is that there was a man who had lost all of his money. The man could not afford proper dowries, that is wedding gifts, for his three daughters. This meant that they would remain single, unemployed, and living in poverty. Hearing of the girls’ problems, Nicholas decided to help them, but, bearing in mind Jesus’ advice to do good deeds in secret, he went to their house under the cover of darkness and threw a purse filled with gold coins through the window (windows didn’t have glass in them, in those days). The father could then afford for his daughters to be married. It was only later he found out where the money came from. (So now you know where we get the idea of hanging bags of gold coins on the Christmas tree!)

I think Nicholas may also have been motivated by what Jesus taught in today’s reading about being generous to those who can’t repay us, rather than giving only to those who we expect to give us a present in return. That’s something to bear in mind this Christmas. How do we decide who we give presents to, or what particular present to give?

Think particularly about gifts for children. Our motivation might be their pleasure – what are their hobbies and interests? It might be education – what books, toys or games will help them develop useful skills? It might be to develop talent, if they are into sports, arts or music. But there’s nothing wrong with adding something just for celebration – sweets or other food as a treat, for example.

This year, as the environmental crisis looms ever larger, more people are thinking not only of how their gifts might help the person who receives them, but also the human and environmental impact: where was that present made and who made it, how long will it last, and can the materials and packaging be recycled? Now’s not the time to go into this in detail, but you may want to look up A Rocha’s ‘twelve tips for a greener Christmas’ – the suggestions include cooking or buying a meal for that person who has everything, or a gift of your time.

But going back to the season of Advent, what we are really doing in this season is not just decorating our homes and wrapping presents to celebrate Christmas with our families, important though that is. Advent is about preparing our hearts to receive God’s greatest gift. Another question (clue in the title of the book!)

Final question: What is God’s greatest gift to us? His love!

God’s greatest gift to us is not measured in pounds (or if you must, it was about seven pounds, give or take). And like Nicholas’s gift of a wedding dowry, it was given at night, to a family in a poor home. God’s greatest gift is his welcoming, forgiving love, shown most clearly in coming among us as Jesus Christ: baby and man, teacher, healer, prophet, and through his death our Saviour and Lord. Look again at that reading from the letter to the Corinthians: six times in those seven verses Paul mentions Christ. Four of those times he is given his full title: Our Lord Jesus Christ. It was so important to Paul that his Christian hearers understood this. In calling Jesus ‘Christ’ we recognise that he is God as well as man, and in calling him ‘Lord’ we recognise that he has a claim on our lives.

St Nicholas understood this. Leaving aside the legends, we do know that he attended an international conference of bishops in his day that agreed the words of the Creed. Nicholas stood up strongly against those who said Jesus was only a man, and also those who said that being a Christian was just about being good. Nicholas knew that Jesus was also God in human flesh – as we sing in a well-known Christmas carol, “Very God, begotten, not created” – and that it is through his goodness, not our own, that we are saved.

Which brings us, at last, to the question of baptism. Mary and Jimmy have brought their children to be baptised, or christened, in recognition that Quin and Joy are indeed God’s gifts to their family. Unique gifts, each to be treasured for how they are, as God made them. They are christened in recognition that God gave his own son, Jesus, as his greatest gift to each one of us. Together as a family they pledge themselves to come to Christ, to turn to Christ for his guidance, and to follow Christ as part of his family, so that as the children grow, they can receive and grow the spiritual gifts that the Holy Spirit wants to give them.

What about the rest of us? Well, this Christmas, the best presents we can give to our children, or indeed anyone we care for, are our love and faith. As the Bishop titled his book, let’s ‘stick with love’. That is the most precious and lasting gift of all. If we offer presents as well, let’s choose those that reflect our love for God and family, and our care for the world he has given us. Thoughtful gifts that don’t cost the earth, or break the bank, or expect anything in return. But don’t forget the treats!

And finally, this Advent we’re hanging decorations on our tree each week as we mark the themes of the season. Today we have this one representing ‘GIVING’, with an icon of St Nicholas on the back.

Tarnished worship

Readings: John 15:9-17 , Revelation 2:1-7

Bramley St Peter, 22 October 2022

5^th & last In a series on ‘Whole Life Worship’

Several years ago Linda and I bought a pair of silver-plated champagne flutes to help celebrate special occasions. But we don’t often have such a special occasion, and having champagne is a very rare treat. So the flutes get left at the back of a cupboard most of the time. This is one of them. It doesn’t look very attractive or inviting, does it? When silver gets to look like that, we call it ‘tarnished’. All that’s happened is that it’s reacted with sulphur in the air around it. You could still drink from it, but it doesn’t add sparkle to the occasion.

One of the lessons that life teaches us is that things decay, get spoilt or tarnished, without us doing anything deliberate to harm them. Often, that decay happens when they aren’t even being used. Think of the way that anything dyed red fades to pink and eventually white as it’s exposed to sunlight. Or the way that the lovely cream coloured York stone from which many of the building of Leeds were built has turned black with a century or more of air pollution. Polluted, faded, tarnished – things just don’t look as attractive as they once did.

The same thing happens to our relationships. Relationship counsellors know that the most common reason for a couple seeking counselling, or a divorce, is not something serious like an affair, but just that they’ve ‘drifted apart’ or ‘no longer love each other’. What causes this? Most often, it’s just the everyday activities of living. We get so busy with work, family commitments, even church activities, that we forget to set special time aside for the people closest to us, even our intimate partner. The relationship gets tarnished – it can still function, but the sparkle has gone and other friendships may seem more attractive. Keeping the love alive in a relationship to stop this happening is important, but also challenging.

And that’s true of our relationship with God as well. When we first discover what it is to believe in God, to be saved by Jesus, to be able to worship him and praise him for what he’s done for us, then our worship and praise will be heartfelt and sincere. It makes us feel good, and we are motivated to live out our Christian faith in daily life, and take opportunities to tell other people what God has done for us.

But like a goblet or building exposed to the air around it, slowly and bit-by-bit we find our worship gets polluted by the concerns of life and the sparkle goes out of it. As Jesus said of the seed that grew up among thorns, we get “choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life”. Some people will fall away and slowly drop out of worshiping together in church. Others still come to church out of a sense of duty or because we have friends here, but one service seems much like another and it doesn’t engage us with the rest of our life.

In the reading from the book of Revelation, the risen Jesus sends a message in a vision to the the Christians in Ephesus, saying “I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first.” Elsewhere in the same book, Jesus warns against being ‘lukewarm’ for him. It’s the same idea: our worship of God and our love for him should not be lukewarm, half-hearted. As with our personal relationships, we need to face up to the challenge of finding ways of keeping our love for God alive.

This is the last of our services on the theme of ‘whole life worship’. We have looked at how worshipping should engage our whole lives, how it offers us insights into life, affects our everyday actions and speech. The question today is how we can polish up our worship, remove the layer of pollution from it and be the sparkling silver people that Jesus wants us to be.

When Jesus addressed his closest disciples at the Last Supper, on the evening before he was crucified, he said many important things that they would remember and write down later. He spoke a lot about love, that evening. In today’s reading he distilled that down to this: “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love.” The commandment that we have to keep, he went on to say, is to love one another, just as he has loved us, that is, loving to the point of being willing to sacrifice his own life for us. But he also said that the point of giving the commandment to love each other, is in order that we may love each other.

That, then, is the key to the challenge that we face – to love as Jesus loved us. If only we could love each other, and our neighbours, with the intensity of love that led Jesus to lay down his own life for others, then we would truly be living like Christ and having a transforming impact on the world around.

It seems an impossible ask. But the good news, the amazing truth at the heart of the Christian message, is that Jesus did not leave us alone. “I have said these things to you”, Jesus added [that is, about loving each other] “so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete”. Loving and serving each other as part of Christ’s body is not a solemn, boring duty: it should be a source of joy, just as the love between parent and child or two lovers.

You may recall from the first of this series on whole-life worship another of Jesus’ memorable sayings: that he is the living water. That is, flowing, fresh water that bubbles up inside us like a spring, refreshing and reviving. When he was faced with someone arguing about where was the best place to worship God, he replied that what matters is worship ‘in spirit and truth’. Worship from the heart.

There is a virtuous circle here: the more we worship God from the heart, the more Jesus will pour his living water of joy into us to refresh our lives and move us to loving service of our neighbours in God’s name. And the more we do that, the more people’s lives are transformed. When we see lives transformed, it motivates us to come back to God in praise and worship. And so on. Worship – joy – service – transformation- worship.

But how do we get that virtuous circle going? To change the metaphor slightly, think of a petrol engine. The piston goes up and down in a cycle, but the car won’t move unless fuel is injected into the cylinder at a crucial point in the cycle. When it comes to this virtuous cycle of worship, inspiration and loving service, I think it has to start with worship. That’s the point in the cycle where Jesus injects us, as it were, with the fuel of love.

But we have to be prepared – the ignition has to be on. Worship of God “in Spirit and in truth” can’t just start from cold, we have to do some warm-up by preparing for worship in prayer, asking the Holy Spirit to make our worship real and heartfelt. We see this in the prayer sometimes used at the start of the communion service: “cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you, and worthily magnify your holy name”. But we can also do that preparation of the heart before coming to church, day by day as we pray at home.

If we can do that: if we can prepare ourselves to experience true worship from the heart, so that we know the joy of Jesus’ love within us, and go out rejoicing in his name to love each other and transform the world by loving service, returning week by week to praise God for what he is doing through us: then we will no longer be like this tarnished old goblet, but shining like fresh silver, worthy to receive the living water of Christ and the sparkling wine of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Two Sons

A sermon for the parish of Stanningley and Swinnow, Sunday 1 October 2023
Text: Matthew 21:23-32
The context of this sermon preached in two churches was the parish has just gone into vacancy, i.e. their vicar has left and they await a replacement

Today as I turned over a calendar to the page for October, I found a beautiful photo of a Scottish woodland in all its autumn splendour. A reminder, if we needed it after this week’s storm, that autumn is upon us. A season of change, and also a season of preparation. What are you preparing for, I wonder? Perhaps already shopping early for Christmas, or booking a holiday for next year, or looking forwards to a family wedding in the spring? As a church, no doubt you’re already planning your Advent and Christmas activities.

Our Gospel reading today refers to John the Baptist. I have a particular fascination with John, because he’s my patron saint – my birthday is 24^th June, John’s feast day in the church. John’s catch phrase seems to have been ‘Prepare the Way for the Lord’. When he baptised people, it wasn’t just as a sign of their repentance for sin, it was also a sign that they were being cleansed as a preparation for a special event, the coming of the Messiah, which would be a great upheaval to their whole way of life.

This was something that challenged the Jewish leaders – the ‘chief priests and elders’ referred to in the Gospel were the Sanhedrin, the religious court. They knew that they hadn’t given permission to John to baptise people, and neither had they given permission to Jesus to heal people, or for that matter to drive the moneychangers out of the Temple, which is what brought them to challenge him on this occasion. Jesus cleverly asks them their opinion of John, because if they weren’t prepared to admit that John was a true prophet, then they clearly wouldn’t accept Jesus either.

If John’s catchphrase was ‘Prepare the Way for the Lord’ then one of Jesus’ catchphrases was certainly ‘the Kingdom of God is among you’. After Jesus refuses to answer the Sanhedrin’s question, he goes on to tell three short parables to make his point about the Kingdom of God. We just heard the first of them today: A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, “Son, go and work in the vineyard today.” He answered, “I will not”; but later he changed his mind and went. The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, “I go, sir”; but he did not go.

The Parable of the Father and His Two Sons in the Vineyard by Georg Pencz, C16
(c) Creative Commons

As you may know already, the vineyard was a widely used image to represent the Jewish people, and its owner is obviously God. Jesus was clearly saying that there are some people who made no claim to being obedient servants of God, yet who actually do his will, while others claim to be obeying God, but don’t in practice. The men from the Sanhedrin, and everyone who was listening to this conversation, would see that he was having a go at them, the religious leaders, for being like the second son and not practising what they preach. And they’re forced to admit this by saying that the son who actually worked in the vineyard did what his father wanted, rather than the one who promised and didn’t deliver.

When Jesus gives this interpretation, though, he adds insult to injury by saying those who are really doing God’s will are ‘tax collectors and prostitutes’ – whose lives are clearly contravening Jewish religious laws.

Recent scandals in Christian churches of all denominations have certainly given the lie to any idea that religious leaders are necessarily holier than the rest of us. But beyond that, what does this short parable have to say to us today?

Jesus’ reason for challenging the Sanhedrin leaders on this point was, I think, to make a contrast between their view and his own on where true religion is to be found. These were men whose whole lives were bound up in the activities of the Temple and the religious and political life of Jerusalem. They probably rarely left the city. To them, keeping Temple worship going according to tradition was the most important way of showing their obedience to God.

By contrast, John the Baptist exercised his whole ministry in the desert and in the Jordan valley where he baptised. Jesus had spent most of his ministry in the fishing villages on lake Galilee and farming communities in the hills, as well as in the crowded streets of Jerusalem. Their disciples were ordinary folk, and among these ordinary folk Jesus could see the seeds of the Kingdom that John had sown already taking root and growing. People who had taken John’s message of repentance and preparation to heart, were listening to Jesus’ teaching, and putting it into practice.

These new disciples, these sons of the vineyard owner who were finally doing what God wanted, are summarised provocatively as ‘tax collectors and prostitutes’. But Jesus also ministered to fishermen, shepherds, disabled people and a divorcee shunned by society. I suggest that we can take these taxmen and sex workers as representing two groups in society – those who are engaged in the business of the world with no time for the church, and those on the margins of society, unable to participate in the regular economy and forced to live in unconventional ways. What you find, now as well as then, is that the overworked people often have an unsatisfied hunger for meaning in their lives, which only Jesus can address. And that people on the margins of society are often the kindest and most generous people, their ears attuned to God’s Spirit.

Jesus, unlike the religious leaders, recognised that out in the streets and villages, not in the Temple, was where God was actually at work changing people’s hearts and lives.

Therefore, I can see that there are two challenges in this passage that are as relevant today as they were in Jerusalem two thousand years ago.

The first is a personal challenge to each and every one of us, including myself. I’m assuming (but please forgive me if I’m wrong) that everyone here was either baptised or confirmed as a teenager or adult. In which case, we have all made some promises about obeying God. When I was confirmed in 1981 it was three short phrases: I turn to Christ, I repent of my sins, I renounce evil. In the current service book, it’s a bit wordier with two sets of promises: I reject the devil and all rebellion against God, I renounce the deceit and corruption of evil, I repent of the sins that separate us from God and neighbour; and then: I turn to Christ, I submit to Christ, I come to Christ. As a lay minister I had to make further promises to be obedient to the Lord Bishop of Leeds, and to be ‘a worker for Christ for the good of his Church and for the spiritual welfare of all people’.

Having made these promises before the congregation, and maybe before the Bishop, we are like the first son who promised to go and work in the vineyard. The question is, do we? In my everyday life, do I actually and actively turn to Christ to direct the way that I should live, and submit to him in doing what I know he wants of me? That’s a question for each of us to answer for ourselves.

The second challenge is to the Church as a whole and to each local congregation. And it’s particularly relevant to you here at St Thomas’s and Christ the Saviour, as you go into the vacancy following Richard’s departure. A vacancy in the benefice, with key people missing, can all too easily become a time of doing as little as possible, of keeping things going as they are, of focussing on church activities.

Instead, I would encourage you to see this as a time of preparation. Just as autumn is a time of preparing for the new year ahead, just as people went out into the desert to hear John the Baptist and his message of preparing for the coming Messiah, and as Jesus himself after being baptised spent forty days in the desert preparing for his ministry on the margins of society, so this time in the wilderness of a vacancy can be a time to prepare for a new leader and for a new outpouring of God’s Spirit in this parish. This is a time to come together as a community of lay people, as John’s disciples were, and re-commit yourselves to hearing God’s call to minister to the ordinary folk of this area.

You will be preparing a parish profile for the Bishop to find a suitable minister, and that will include both your current activities and future aspirations. I can see from your website and Facebook group that you are not starting from scratch here. You are already engaging with the community through the Mums & Tots and Chat & Craft groups, fellowship lunches, the Friends of St Thomas’s and the various uniformed organisations. All that, no doubt, will go into the profile. But what else might be possible? Where, figuratively speaking, are the tax collectors and prostitutes in Stanningley: the busy people and the people on the margins in our parish, who may not yet have heard of the Kingdom of God but who will enter it gladly and obediently when they do?

I hope I will see you again during this vacancy, and pray that it will not be long before God calls the right woman or man to serve as your parish priest. But now, and then, you will not be acting alone. It is the work, not of the Church but of Christ himself. I will finish with a quote from the last verse of the New Testament reading for today. Philippians 2:13. ‘For it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.’ The ideal son is the one who both promises to work in God’s vineyard, and with his Father’s help, does so. Amen.