A sermon in response to Stephen Fry

A sermon given at St Matthew's Church, Oxford, 8th February 2015

Readings: Psalm 34,  Peter 3:13 – 4:6, 

I wonder whether you heard the interview between Stephen Fry and the veteran Irish TV presenter Gay Byrn on RTE television’s The Meaning of Life last Sunday.   It’s created one of those media storms with over 5 million hits on YouTube at last count[1]   I thought I’d play a clip this morning but I guess some people here might find it offensive so I won’t.  Here, though, is what Stephen Fry says when asked what he would say to God if he found himself standing at the gates of Heaven:  

"I think I would say, ‘Bone cancer in children? What’s that about?  How dare you.  How dare you create a world in which there is such misery that's not our fault?  It’s not right.  It's utterly, utterly evil.  Why should I respect a capricious, mean minded, stupid God who creates a world that is so full of injustice and pain?’  That’s what I’d say.”

This interview created some consternation in some Christian quarters.   Perhaps the best reaction came from Giles Fraser who said, ‘I don’t believe in the God that Stephen Fry doesn't believe in either.’

What Stephen Fry says is of course relevant to what I will be talking about in today’s sermon: the problem of suffering and the question of why our loving, just and powerful God allows suffering – and in particular allows suffering amongst his followers.   This is a question over which more ink has been probably been spilt than any other religious question and I hesitate to suggest an answer.   Peter tackles the question in his epistle and in particular in the reading we heard just now and in the reading we will be thinking about next week.   His answer is that Jesus suffered.   I am fairly sure that Stephen Fry wouldn't find that a satisfactory answer but I think it is an answer that should satisfy us and in this sermon I’ll try and explain why.

But back to Stephen Fry for a moment.   Note that, in answer to the question from Gay Byrn, Stephen Fry is able to imagine speaking to God.   It’s almost that he believes in God for a moment and speaks to him out of his desire to tell him what he thinks about the world and in particular the suffering he sees around him, particularly unjustified suffering such as bone cancer in children.   Stephen fry is angry with God for creating such a world - and anger with God - particularly about suffering - is something that authors of the Psalms – also do quite a lot.

We have, in effect, in the Book of Psalms, 156 recorded prayers.   In these prayers we can find petitions - requests for help, healing from ill-health and disease, rescue in the face of persecution from others, etc.  There is also quite a bit of thanking – thanking God for his help in healing, rescue, etc.   But often the Psalmist just tells God what he or she thinks of him.   There is a lot of praising of God for who he is - his goodness, his justice and his love -  but there is also a lot of complaining about what he is doing and in particular his allowing of suffering.

Take Psalm 44, for example.  After praising God for doing what he did to help his people in the past – reminding him that he saved them from their foes and put to confusion those who hated them - the Psalmist – let’s assume it’s a man - complains that now (verses 9 -12):

You have rejected us and abased us, have not gone out with our armies.  You have made us turn back from the foe; and our enemies have taken spoil for themselves. You have made us like sheep for slaughter, and have scattered us among the nations. You have sold your people for a trifle, demanding no high price for them.

The language may be more antiquated but the sentiment behind these verses is the same as Stephen Fry’s.  The Psalmist is angry with God.

But note also, as well as the anger, the puzzlement on the part of the author of Psalm 44 and Stephen Fry.   The Psalmist is asking God why, when he went out with our armies in the past, does he not do so now;  why when they, his people, ‘have not forgotten him’ he seems to have forgotten them.    Stephen Fry similarly wants to know from God, why he created a world with suffering in it.   People do want to know.

But our first reading today wasn't from Psalm 44 it was from Psalm 34.   The reason why I chose Psalm 34 is that a quote from it – verses 12-16 – comes just before our reading from 1 Peter.   And 1 Peter Chapter 3 verse 13 to the end of Chapter 14 can be seen as an expository sermon on Psalm 34.   Peter is, if you like, taking as his text for today, Psalm 34 and elaborating upon it, just as I am seeking to do with his text.  

So let’s take a look at Psalm 34.  This psalm, unlike Psalm 44, is a rather upbeat psalm.  Let’s assume that the psalmist is a woman this time.   She starts with the very un-angry and un-puzzled words, ‘I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall be in my mouth’.   This psalmist, like the author of Psalm 44, then proceeds to remind God what he has done for her in the past before moving back to the present.  Verse 4:  ‘[In the past] I sought the Lord, and he delivered me from all my fears.’  Verse 6: ‘This poor soul cried, and was heard by the Lord.’ And now to the present.  Verse 8: ‘O taste and see that the Lord is good; happy are those that take refuge in him’.   And verse 17, coming just after the verses Pete quotes : ‘When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears, and rescues them from all their troubles.

’ 

At this point you might be tempted to say to the Psalmist as I am. " ‘When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears, and rescues them from all their troubles.’  Oh come on?   Is this really your experience?    The Lord might listen and let’s hope he does ‘when the righteous cry for help’ but does he always rescue them from their troubles?   Surely not?" We know that the righteous suffer as much as the unrighteous, and sometimes even more. 

Actually the author of Psalm 34 is caught in a bit of a logical bind.   She acknowledges – verse 19 – that, ‘Many are the afflictions of the righteous’ in which case God clearly hasn't, at least yet, rescued them so when she says, ‘When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears, and rescues them from all their troubles’ she must mean that Lord will, at some point in the future, rescue them.   Or at least she hopes so.  

So now to 1 Peter and Peter’s exposition of Psalm 34.  It might be a favourite psalm of his as he quotes it elsewhere in his epistle.   Now it is clear that Peter is writing to Christians who are suffering in some way – so much of it is devoted to the subject for a start.   I don’t know whether Steve covered this in his introduction to 1 Peter – a few Sundays back - but commentators think that this suffering wasn't state-sanctioned persecution of Christians such as under the Emperor Nero in AD60 – under which Peter himself died - but lower level physical and verbal abuse from hostile neighbours.   Nevertheless this was bad enough for Peter to have to write to them about it – possibly in answer to the question of why God was allowing it to happen.

Reminding them of Psalm 34 is perhaps a good way to start.  After that, and in the same vein as the Psalmist, Peter asks his readers a question: ‘Now who will harm you, if you are eager to do what is good?’   That’s Chapter 3 verse 13.  It’s a rhetorical question.  Pete’s assuming the answer 'no-one', No-one will harm you if you are eager to do what is good.   By ‘harm you’, he clearly doesn't mean physical harm – he knows that they cannot avoid physical harm.  Indeed Peter acknowledges that the recipients of his letter may well suffer physical harm in the next verse when he says, ‘But even if you do suffer for doing right, you are blessed’. 

When he asks rhetorically, ‘Now who will harm you ?‘ he must mean that they will avoid some spiritual harm – such as loss of faith in a God that will ultimately rescue them from physical harm – an amazing claim if you think about in that way.   And when he says, ‘If you do suffer, you are blessed’, he obviously doesn't mean physically blessed but rather spiritually blessed: in the way Jesus means when he says, in the Sermon on the Mount: ‘Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake for theirs is the kingdom of heaven’.

All this might sound over-simplistic – even just pious rhetoric  - on Peter’s part – but he goes on to urge his readers to reflect on and stick with their situation.  Verse 14: ‘Do not fear what they [your persecutors] fear and do not be intimidated’.   That is, acknowledge that your suffering at the hands of those around you is often a result of their fear of you – a needless fear – and this understanding might help you a bit to feel less intimated and bear the suffering more easily.   Fair enough.   He also gives them some further advice – here and later in the epistle - about how to cope with their suffering.

But just as you might question the apparently naïve optimism of Psalm 34, you might well say, as I am sure his readers also said, ‘But why do we need to suffer in the first place?’

I think we can all see what Stephen Fry is getting at when he questions why an all-powerful, creator God, who is supposed to be all loving and just, allows unjustified suffering.  Stephen Fry particularly questions the suffering of innocent children, but others such as Job - to whose suffering a whole book in the Bible has been devoted - have questioned the suffering of good people.   In the case of Job, Job himself.  

I personally think that the apparent problem with this question comes in our thinking of God as omnipotent – all powerful.   As I have said before I do not think God is omnipotent in the sense that Greek philosophers thought God was – a thinking that seems to me to have been imported into Christianity and is unnecessary.

My main reason for thinking that God is powerful but not omnipotent, in that way, is this.   Paul in his letter to the Philippians tells us that Jesus ‘emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human form.’  That is, that God, in Jesus, made himself voluntarily powerless – like a slave.  And this for me helps explain – not only God’s saving work through suffering on the cross – but also his - God’ the Father’s - creative work at the beginning of time- and remember that Jesus was there too.   Only through God making himself voluntarily less than all-powerful could creation begin to happen.   And creation, we learn from science, seems necessarily to involve physical pain and indeed physical death.

But back to suffering.  Peter supplies the reason for why his readers are suffering at verse 18 when he says, ‘You suffer for Christ also suffered’ and then goes on to explain why Jesus suffered, that is: ‘for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order to bring you to God’.   And this for me is the key verse in this passage from 1 Peter. 

Now I am not going to talk about how Christ’s suffering achieved what it achieved – a huge subject in itself.   The important thing I think to note, today, is the fact of Jesus’ suffering and that his suffering wasn't meaningless:  it was for something.  

One part of the amazing good news that Jesus brings is that God himself suffers.   He is not a remote and distant God who created the world with all the suffering it contains and left it at that – as Stephen Fry seems to be assuming that he – the God he doesn't believe in – does.   Our God is a God who suffers – once on the cross – and now in response to our suffering.  And through that suffering makes our suffering meaningful.  

Peter goes on to say – Chapter 4 verse 1 – ‘Since therefore Christ suffered in the flesh for us, arm yourself also with the same intention….so as to live for the rest of your earthly life no longer by human desires but by the will of God.’   So just as Christ’s suffering had a purpose, an intention, so too does our suffering and we should view it in that way.  

It is of course difficult for us to fathom the meaning of our own suffering and even harder to discern the meaning of the suffering of others.   In fact it is hazardous – and can be offensive to do so.   As I said, the Book of Job is a long exposition on the meaning of one man’s suffering and you are left at the end not really knowing what it was all for.  God’s answer to Job towards the end of the book is to reassure him that he, God, is indeed God.   ‘Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?’ he asks Job.   He does not explain what has happened to Job.

But nevertheless we can be assured – as Job and indeed the Psalmists could not be - because they had yet to encounter Jesus - that that our suffering isn't pointless because God has suffered for us and now suffers with us.  Suffering can only make sense, if instead of argument and reason, we gaze on the suffering of Jesus.

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[1] http://www.theguardian.com/culture/2015/feb/01/stephen-fry-god-evil-maniac-irish-tv

#ChristmasMeans

The true meaning of Christmas, St Matthew’s Midnight Communion, Christmas Eve 2014

My sermon this evening is entitled the true meaning of Christmas.   I had decided on this title and this subject last Sunday because of something Steve said at the Carol Service.   I can’t quite remember what he said exactly but he said something like ‘These days people often tell us that we need to find the true meaning of Christmas but without specifying what that is’. 

And then yesterday I found that the Church of England has invited all its followers on Twitter to tweet what Christmas means to them in 140 characters using the hashtag: ‘ChristmasMeans’.   {Sorry if you don’t know what a hashtag is: you’ll have to ask a Twitter user.)

In response there have been thousands of tweets over the last few days – in particular from Bishops who tweet.   Tweets such as ‘#ChristmasMeans that in Jesus, God has given us the most precious gifts of all: forgiveness and hope’ from Justin Welby - the Archbishop of Canterbury.   And ‘#ChristmasMeans God in humility enters the heart of the world, once and for all, the eternal remedy for the deadly poison of our pride’ from Stephen Croft , the Bishop of Sheffield.

And then there are quite a few clever one such as ‘#ChristmasMeans God used means to save mean people’ or ‘#Christmasmeans the Meaning became moment, the moment became movement and the Meaning moved us’ both from Graham King, the Bishop of Sherborne.  But the best tweet with that hashtag I have found so far is: ‘ #Christmasmeans 'fun and feasting' says the Bishop for Ripon, James Bell.’   I’ll explain why I like this tweet best later.

Perhaps the attempt to summarise what Christmas means in 140 characters is a pointless, even impossible task, but clearly many Bishops and others can’t resist trying.   I am not sure sermon of about 7000 characters words (I’ve not counted) can do justice to the subject either.   And I am not going to tell you what I think what Christmas means.   I think it has multiple meanings and I think we have to work out what it means to us personally for ourselves.

Of course –I cannot resist leaving it at that.   Firstly of course I think we can assume – this being a church that – that the true meaning of Christmas has something to do with the story of the birth of Jesus – as told in two of the gospels, those by Matthew and  Luke.   And secondly that the search for the meaning is worth reflecting upon.

This search for the true meaning of Christmas seems to suggest that, somehow, we have lost something we previously had a hold on.   I wonder if that is true.  I wonder whether anyone – from Mary and Joseph onwards – and surely if anyone they would have good reason to understand the meaning of Christmas they would have - have had a good grasp on the meaning of Christmas.    

The idea that we have somehow lost hold of the true meaning of Christmas seems to go hand in hand with idea that Christmas has come to mean something other than what it should mean.   The complaint nowadays is generally that Christmas has become over-commercialised and t merely an excuse for over- indulgence – particularly of food and alcohol.   It goes without saying these things that Christmas has come to be are to be regretted and also that they are a modern phenomenon – never before experienced by previous generations.   I'm thinking that moaning that Christmas has come to mean something other than it should has been prevalent ever since Mary’s mother complained that the three wise men had spent too much money on completely inappropriate gifts for the baby Jesus. 

I begin to think that there is too much moaning about the commercialisation of and over-indulgence at Christmas: these after all are by-products of the fact that Christmas is and always has been a source of fun - in the words of the Bishop of Ripon - or more precisely a celebration to be shared in the form of hospitality and present giving.   If you are going to have fun then you need to spend money – and on more than the bare necessities.   After all a feast – again in the words of the Bishop of Ripon - is not just nourishment.  The communion we will share later is not just a meal it’s a feast.   You don’t need wine for a meal - water will do. 

I am not denying that commercial interests have attempted to hijack Christmas for their own ends nor that that have a tendency to consume more than is good for u, but the meaning of Christmas is constantly having its meaning changed by different ways of telling the Christmas story. Think here about Father Christmas.  

Is this Father Christmas anything to do with the Christmas story?   On the face of it no, because Father Christmas, Santa Klaus, St Nicholas, whatever you want to call him doesn’t figure in the story of Jesus’ birth.   On the other hand trying telling most children that Christmas has nothing to do with Father Christmas and they’d laugh and in a sense Father Christmas, Christmas trees even turkey are now part of the story which gives Christmas its meaning.  The question is whether we should resist this or go with it.  Some nativity plays apparently have Father Christmas bringing a present to the baby Jesus.  Does this really matter?  I think not.

So the meaning of Christmas comes from the story and the Church down the years – culminating in this year’s tweets – has sought to explain the meaning of the story.   The basic story - when you come to actually think about it is a bit strange - to have such apparent significance as to generate a festival that is celebrated each year in most countries of the world.

An unplanned pregnancy after a visit from an angel, a trek to a far-away town, a birth in a stable, visits to the new-born baby by complete strangers, a flight from a King who is trying to kill the baby: which of these parts of the story give it its meaning?   It’s the baby itself who figures in most of the tweets from the Bishop’s as if all the other characters in the story don’t matter in comparison and this is surely right.   After all, the baby is the main character.   

And of course the baby is no ordinary baby.   Extraordinary claims are made for this baby.   Actually rather a lot of claims – and this is where the true meaning gets complicated.   Referring to the baby, John – the writer of the fourth gospel – who tells us nothing about the circumstances of his birth, says that the baby was God ‘s word made flesh and dwelt among us.

But as Steve pointed out at the Crib service earlier today: the baby – the Word of God - says nothing in the story.   He does of course grow up to become an adult who says quite a lot.    But for the moment he is silent, even ‘no crying he makes’ if the Christmas carol is to be believed.  And there is a sense in which the meaning of Christmas cannot be put into words and perhaps we should let the baby be a baby and just celebrate his birth.   And that is why I like the Bishop of Ripon’s tweet best - #Christmasmeans fun and feasting

Loneliness

St Matthew's Oxford, Sunday 28th December 2014

Readings: Jeremiah 31: 10 – 17, Psalm 124, Matthew 2: 13 – 18.

So did you all have a good Christmas?   My talk today is on loneliness.  Or a better title might be ‘on getting left out’ as A did in our game of football just now.

I know that getting left out might not seem a very cheerful subject and that this is still the Christmas season but as our readings remind us, the joy of Mary and Joseph, the angels, the shepherds and the wisemen at the birth of the baby Jesus wasn’t felt by everyone.  In particular King Herod was furious and this led to great sadness for many in the region of Bethlehem when he started killing babies with the intention of killing Jesus.    And just as that first Christmas wasn’t great for everyone I know that this Christmas has not been great for everyone even everyone here today.

Christmas is primarily a time for celebrating the birth of Jesus - and therefore Christmas means fun and feasting – as I said at the Midnight Communion on Christmas Eve.   And because it’s a time of celebration, it’s also a time when we need to welcome into our home people who would otherwise be by themselves, to share in the celebrations.  But nevertheless some people still get left out.

At Christmas St Matthew’s collects money for two organisations: the Gatehouse and Archway – both of which are organisation which are seeking do something about people who somehow have got left out.   And after this short talk I’ll be interviewing J – who helps with Archway – to tell us a little more about the organisation.

Getting left out is a fact of life.   We are all going to get left out at times.   If we move to a new school, or new job or new place to live we just won’t know as many people as we used to know at our old school, job or place.   And while we are getting to know new people we are highly likely to feel lonely.   When people who we love, leave or die we are going to miss them – and a consequence of that is we might feel lonely.   And some of us are just not as good at making friends as other people who have been blessed with this skill.  So loneliness may become a way of life.  

We need to remember that people are left out through no fault of their own.   People don’t choose to get left out.   Of course it is true to say that we have some control over our lives – including how we react to being left out – but controlling how we feel is clearly more complicated than just pulling ourselves together when we feel lonely.  Some sermons on loneliness are full of tips for the lonely but I am not going to provide any.

Just as A had no choice in the matter – when he got left out when B and I picked teams for our game of football.   Getting left out – and feeling lonely in consequence - is just the way things have work out for some people, but as Christians we have an obligation to do something about the loneliness of others. 

Of course loneliness isn’t the only thing we are called to do things about: we are called to do our job’s well and with integrity (and incidentally everyone has a job to do on this earth); we are called to do something about the injustices we see in the world and we are called to look after our families when they need us.   And this may mean we cannot spend all our time tackling the loneliness of others but loneliness is up there with all those other things that make human beings less than they should be like sickness and poverty.

It might seem a silly question but why are we as Christians called to do something about loneliness in others?  Well it is because we human beings are created to be in relationship with God and with God.   In Genesis the writer – when describing the creation of human beings - has God saying that he has created Eve because ‘It is not good that the man should be alone’.    Now this does not mean that the Eve’s purpose in life is to cook and clear for Adam because he cannot cook and clean for himself but that for Adam to be fully human he needs at least one other person in his life and the same is, of course true of Eve and true of us today as well.   Human beings are not designed to be alone – at least not all of the time.  

Now being alone is not the same as being lonely.   You can be alone without feeling lonely, and you can physically be with other people and still feel lonely   But as the writer of Ecclesiastes says ‘Two are better than one, because if one falls the other will lift them up.  But woe to the person who is alone when they fall, for they have no one to help them up.’   

And when summarising the law: i.e. what we basically have to do in life, Jesus says that this is to: ‘love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind,’ and, ‘to love your neighbour as yourself.’   That is: the primary purpose of our lives is to have good and loving relationships firstly with God and secondly with other people.  And if we have these then all others things will fall naturally into place.  

But what if we find we can’t love the Lord our God with all our heart and with all our soul and with all our mind and love our neighbour as ourselves, what are we to do?   I think the answer is to ask for help. 

As S pointed out on Thursday that the Jesus says nothing at his birth.  This is perhaps not surprisingly since he is just a baby.  But the angels – God’s messengers – speak for Jesus and on three separate occasions when announcing his birth – first to Mary, secondly to Joseph and thirdly to the shepherds they say: ‘Do not be afraid’.  This is perhaps a surprising thing to say.   Why should Mary, Joseph and the shepherds be afraid at the birth of a baby?   But, as I have said before, the gospel can perhaps be summarised in two short sentences and one of which is ‘Do not be afraid because I am with you.’

We human beings are prone to fear and it is fear that leads to loneliness when we get left out.  We fear we might get left out next time.     We cannot tell ourselves not to be lonely when we are but perhaps we can tell ourselves not to be afraid.   God does not command us to not to be lonely.  That would be tantamount to telling us to pull ourselves together. But God does tell us not to be afraid.  In his own words, as recorded by Isaiah, God says: ‘Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.’

Why Christmas is no joke

A sermon for Midnight Communion.   Christmas Eve, 2013 

In my sermon tonight I want to make a plea for taking Christmas much more seriously than we do.   I have been thinking about the seriousness of Christmas recently because some members of my research group were successful in getting the British Medical Journal to publish a paper in their Christmas edition – which ‘traditionally’ has a lighter, somewhat jokey, almost April Fool’s Day feel to it.   My research group know what I feel about that!

Perhaps a serious sermon isn't what you want to hear this time of night on Christmas Eve.   Perhaps you were looking for a sermon at least beginning with a joke if not ending on one.   I have a friend who makes a point of putting a joke into every sermon they preach.   Perhaps you were hoping for something a bit deep but not so deep that you’d have to think too much.   Something about Christmas trees, presents, feasting on good food, or some such subject.   There will be time for presents, turkey, even cracker jokes but for a moment let us be serious.  

My thesis is that Christmas for many of us is becoming less and less serious, so that it comes more and more to resemble a carnival – which Christians have traditionally celebrated, either at the beginning of Lent – on Shrove Tuesday, Pancake Day – or at the end of summer – at Halloween.    Carnivals are all about having fun– sometimes as a prelude to a fast – Pancake Day – or sometimes as a way of mocking death – Halloween.   Now there is nothing wrong with carnival – it’s just that Christmas is not a carnival.  Although, of course, there is a place for fun at Christmas, because of after all it is a celebration and fun is an essential part of a celebration.   But what we celebrate is serious and not a joke.

It is clear to almost everyone that we have over-commercialised Christmas, so that it’s now more about shopping than almost anything else, at least in the preparations for the day itself.   But shopping can be serious and indeed it is for lots of us: not just those of us who are poor and so need to use our money wisely but also those of us who find our identity in our possessions.   But the commercialisation of Christmas is not my concern tonight and indeed, whilst I think it is a problem, I also think moaning about the commercialisation of Christmas can be overdone    It is right to spend more money at Christmas than on other days.   You need to spend money to celebrate and Christmas as I have already said is a celebration.

John Bell, on Radio 4’s Thought for the Day yesterday, was bemoaning the fact that Christmas also seems to have been infantilised and sentimentalised.   

‘Infantilised’ because you might now be forgiven for thinking that Christmas is for children rather than adults.   In fact you hear quite a lot people saying that.   And children do seem to be the major beneficiaries of much of that shopping I have just been talking about.  

John Bell also argues that the representation of the Christmas story by children – wearing fairy wings and nighties or dressing gowns and tea-towels – is becoming the predominant way it is heard.   Admittedly there is a baby involved in the story – but all the other leading characters, Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, the wise men, even the angels were adults rather than children.   And the adult baddies in the story – the Roman Caesar and Herod the Jewish King– seems to get left out of many of these modern nativity plays for fear of upsetting the children.  

The story of the nativity seems to be assuming the status of that other Christmas story – that of Santa Klaus – which is clearly for children.   And this has got me thinking.   Perhaps the story of Santa Klaus is taking over from the real story of Christmas and will become more elaborate as the real story gets simplified.  

John Bell argues that the Christmas story has not only become infantilised it’s become sentimentalised into ‘a cameo of cosiness and candlelight’.   The Christmas story is about God’s love for us but this love is not sentimental fondness but a love that is risky and sacrificial.   A love that is shown by the birth of a baby called Jesus, not in a safe maternity ward, but in a stable: a birth to an unmarried mother rather than a conventional married couple.   A birth which so threaten s the powers that be that the local potentate embarks on a programme of infanticide and the couple are forced to flee to another country.  

Commercialisation, infantilisation and sentimentalisation all threaten to trivialise Christmas.   To remind you Christmas is not primarily about shopping and giving – if anything it’s about receiving.   It’s not just for children it’s for adults as well.   It is about celebrating the birth of Jesus in difficult circumstances not in comfort, let alone luxury. 

So the Christmas story is more adult less sentimental than we might have been led to believe but why is it serious?   Well we might think that the most significant, and therefore serious, event in our lives is our birth, followed closely by our death.   But the Christmas story suggests that it’s not our own birth, death or even what we do in between that gives significance to our lives but the birth, life and death of that baby born in a stable over 2000 years.   An extraordinary claim and, if true, surely something to be taken seriously.  

The names that are given that baby give us some clue as to why we should take his birth seriously.   He was to be called Emmanuel: God with us and Jesus: that is Saviour. 

We can so easily forget the point of Christmas.  And that point can be so easily trivialised.  It is I think worth pausing to remember what it is really all about: the serious, significant and important.

Generosity

Deuteronomy 15: 1-18

‘Living generously’ is a theme that underlies both our passage from Deuteronomy today and our gospel reading (Matthew 81: 21-35). I will focus on the Deuteronomy reading. The passage in Deuteronomy that gives us instructions on three issues: poverty, debt and slavery – pretty big issues I think you will agree. It can be summarised as: ‘If you are rich: live generously’.

But, before turning to see what the passage has to say about that there are two things the passage might also be: a set of instructions for politicians about the way that society should be run and advice for people in poverty, debt or slavery about how to cope with their situation or get themselves out of it.

So does the passage give politicians any instructions about poverty, debt and slavery? Firstly the passage does suggest that poverty and slavery (if not debt) are bad things; that in an ideal world there would be no poverty and slavery. But it also accepts that debt, poverty and slavery are inevitable, at least in the here and now.

Poverty is clearly a bad thing and verse 4 promises that at some point ‘There will be no more among you for the Lord your God will bless you in the land which the Lord your God gives you for an inheritance to possess.’ But only seven verses later (verse 11) it says ‘the poor will never cease out of the land’. Jesus says something similar to this when he says to Judas after Mary has poured a bottle of perfume over his feet, ‘You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.’

Perhaps we should note that Jesus, in his first sermon as reported by Luke, says that he has come to preach good news to the poor; but he doesn’t say he has come to abolish poverty. In his sermon on the plain he proclaims ‘Blessed are the poor’ implying that, if poverty is a bad thing, it has some compensations.

Now you might think that debt, like poverty, is a bad thing and that therefore all debts should be cancelled. But of course if you did that there would be chaos. Today’s society depends on debt but that is not all bad. There is good lending and bad lending. Think mortgages here. Mortgages are debts and in today’s society mortgages provide people with housing which is under their control and not that of private landlords. There is surely some value in mortgages.

In this passage we hear (verse 6) that God will bless the Israelites by giving them the capacity to ‘lend money to many’ and at verse 8 the rich are commanded to ‘open your hand to your poor brother and lend him sufficient for his need’. The surprising thing here is that the instruction is to lend to the poor not give them stuff. Incidentally here is a lesson relevant to the rapid growth of Church-run food banks. The authors of Deuteronomy clearly don’t think debt per se is a bad thing. If some people are lending some people will be borrowing.

And you also might think that slavery, like poverty and debt, is a bad thing and we should abolish all forms of it. Well it’s easy to say that now but for much of the time that the books of the Bible refer to slavery was a given. This passage in Deuteronomy is about slavery that was a consequence of debt that could not be paid. This sort of slavery gave slaves some security that that their basic needs of food, water, clothes and shelter would be met.

The writers of the Bible clearly do not think slavery is particularly bad. Paul’s famous verse in his letter to the Galatians: ‘There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus’, doesn’t mean that he condemns slavery per se. In fact when he writes to his friend Philemon about Philemon’s slave Onesimus he does not tell his friend to release Onesimus: quite the contrary Paul gives a strong hint or two that he would very much like to have Philemon as his slave. Our page in Deuteronomy also takes slavery for granted.

Now in saying all this I am not saying that the writers of Deuteronomy (and indeed Jesus and Paul) are entirely accepting of the status quo. Far from it!. I would suggest, for example, that this passage proposes that society should be organised in quite a different way from the way it is today. But still this passage is not primarily addressed to politicians.

The second thing this passage is not, and even more obviously, is that it’s not a set of instructions about what to do when you yourself are poor, in debt or a slave.
Nowhere in the passage does it say: ‘You must not get into poverty.’ That would have been as absurd then as it is now nowadays to talk about the undeserving poor. No-one deliberately makes themselves poor. In a passing reference the passage does say that when God blesses the Israelites they ‘shall not borrow’. But this isn’t saying you must not borrow – like you shall not kill, steal, lie, etc.

The passage doesn’t even say you must not make yourself a slave. Slavery – in this case selling oneself into the ownership of someone with more land and/or livestock - was a rational economic decision which many people took when facing, say, the failure of their crops.

It is also I think noteworthy that this passage does not tell the poor, debtors or slaves whether they are just to accept their lot or resist their condition. Other passages in the scriptures bear upon that issue.

So if this passage is not primarily a set of instructions to politicians about what to do about poverty, debt or slavery or what to do when you are poor, a debtor or a slave, who is it addressed to and what is it about? Well I think it’s mainly about what to do when you when you have people owing money to you, when you see poor people around about you and when you are a slave owner. You can see it a set of instructions for those who enough money to give away or lend or to buy slaves. These instructions can be summarised as ‘Be generous!’.

Now you might think you don’t have enough money to lend people any or give much of it away, and certainly you might think you don’t have slaves. Or you might think that the problems of poverty, debt and slavery cannot simply be solved by people just being generous but I think it is worth investigating how this principle of living generously might apply to us and where it could take us.

Take slave-owning to start with. Now it is easy I think to think that slavery has been abolished. That no one in today’s society is a slave – we are all free. So instructions about slave owning are surely irrelevant?

But is this really the case? Many of us do have economic power over other people’s lives. The most obvious case being that many of us are bosses where we work – with power to dictate (at least to some extent) what those people who work for us do. This power is generally given to us by the organisation we work for but sometimes through the wealth we have accrued. Be generous is something worth thinking about if you employ people. Be generous in how much you pay them and how much time off you give them.

Even if we are not direct employers – most of rely on lots of other people to do some basic things for us – cleaning (where we live and work and the places in between), removing our rubbish, growing and cooking (nowadays called processing) our food, repairing our cars, our bikes, our clothes, our houses, etc. Some of these things are often very skilled and the people who do these things for us may be paid for rather than coerced into doing so but these verses surely tell us how to treat those people we depend on for our basic needs. Be generous next time that shop assistant short changes you. Be generous when the cleaner accidentally breaks your favourite ornament.

Our passage in Deuteronomy (verse 14) says we should be generous to our slaves: ‘Supply them liberally from your threshing floor; i.e. grain for making bread. So you should give them the means to live. But more than that ‘Supply them liberally from your wine press’ i.e. you should give them more than just the basics but also the means of celebration. We should remember this verse in particular when we come to share bread and wine at our Communion today.

But it’s not just slaves or people who work for us, and are therefore most likely to be poorer than us, that we are to be generous to: we are also to be generous to everyone who is poor.

Next debt. We might think we don’t have the capacity to lend people money so, like the instructions about slavery, these instructions about being generous to debtors surely cannot be relevant to us? We know, for sure, that debt is a problem in modern society but surely we are not the problem; we are not lending people money?

Firstly some of us do lend money to others at times and the instruction here to lend ungrudgingly, as if you are not likely to get the money back, is surely worth considering. Secondly we are caught up in a society which, as I said earlier, depends on borrowing and lending for its existence. If we have a bank account that is in credit we are in effect lending money to our neighbour who has an overdraft. In as much as we benefit from that society we collude in all this borrowing and lending. Bankers have got a bad name recently because they seem to have mismanaged this borrowing and lending done on our behalf and incidentally we might think of being more generous in our attitude to them.

We might also be thinking that the system proposed in this passage– of releasing people from their debts every seven years – could not possibly work in modern society. In fact I am dubious that it could have worked in the society to which the writers Deuteronomy were writing.

I don’t really know where this principle of being more generous to those we lend money to would take us – certainly to the relief of the debts of developing countries as in the successful Jubilee 2000 campaign – but I am certain that it is an important principle. Jesus in the parable that we heard as our gospel reading today underlines this. Perhaps Jesus is saying here that since God forgives our big debts so we should be forgive the little debts of others.

And finally poverty. The writers of Deuteronomy are surely being ironic when they say (verse 7): ‘If there is among you a poor man, one of your brethren, in any of your towns within your land which the Lord your God gives you then..’. Those who first heard these words would surely have said ‘‘If there is a poor man’, well of course there are poor people amongst us, but so what?’ The authors’ response is to say ‘You shall open your hand to him and lend him sufficient to his need, whatever it might be’. And moreover to ‘Give to him freely and your heart should not be grudging’.

The emphasis here is on the responsibility and attitude of the giver (or rather the lender) not the plight of the person given to. The passage is not saying: first identify the really poor around you – the deserving poor – and give them enough to live on. It’s saying, be generous in your giving/lending to those in need whatever their needs. It is, of course, easier for us to give people things that we think that they need but here we are enjoined to give to people in relation to their need not what we think of as their need.

So to summarise: be generous to those who work for you, both directly and indirectly, to those who you lend money (both directly and indirectly) and to those who are poor and not just the deserving poor. But why? Our passage from Deuteronomy makes this clear: because the Lord our God has been and will be generous to us. We remember this in the Communion meal we are about to share. We will remember that God has generously given us his son and Jesus has generously given of himself – his body and his blood in which we all share. If God is generous then clearly we, who are made in his image, should be generous as well.

Unity

12th May 2013, St Matthew’s, Reading: John 17: 20-26

Here is a conversation I heard recently – anonymised to protect the reputation of those concerned and ever so slightly embellished.

James: I was wondering, Jim, why you left St Justice down the road and joined St Compassion’s.

Jim: Well, James, St Justices’ has nice stained glass windows but I just couldn’t get on with the congregation there.

James: Oh, and why was that?

Jim: Well they are very nice people at St Justice’s but their services are very odd.

James: In what way?

Jim: Well the men all wear ties and the women all wear hats for a start. And for another thing they just can’t seem to see other people’s point of view.

James: Over important issues?

Jim: Oh yes : really important issues such as the synoptic question.

James: Oh, we’re not like that at St Compassion’s. We’re awfully tolerant of one-another’s views here and we don’t care what we wear.

Jim: Tolerance: hmph! That’s called being wishy-washy at St Justice’s.

James: Well here at St Compassion’s we call that being bigoted. We feel that churches like St Justice’; should be expelled from the Church of England.



So: was it right for Jim to leave St Justice’s for St Compassion’s? Well of course it is OK, at times, to change churches. But then was it right for Jim to criticise St Justice’s when he joined St Compassion’s. That seems more doubtful. Was James being over-hasty in describing the congregation at St Justice’s as bigoted? Wasn’t he being a tad intolerant himself? Of course we don’t know all the full facts of the situation but even so this conversation feels wrong somehow. It is surely not how Christians should behave.

The conversation illustrates the way Christians can be intolerant of one another but today’s sermon is not about tolerance, it’s about unity. Unity is much bigger, much more important than tolerance of one another’s views. When we all declare, as we do at our communion service: ‘Though we are many, we are one body, because we all share in one bread, ‘we are – of course -saying something much more important that that we agree over the synoptic question or whether we tolerate one over’s different views over that question.

The synoptic question is by the way the question of which of the three synoptic gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke, was written first, and much ink has been spilled over it. Of course I am using the synoptic question as a ludicrous example of a question over which Christians disagree. For the synoptic question: you can substitute currently controversial questions around women bishops, gay marriage, etc. or old questions like transubstantiation, substitionory atonement, evolution v special creation etc. etc. etc.

And so to the main subject of this sermon: unity. In this sermon I want to pose three questions: the answer to the first is fairl long but to the second and third is quite short.

First: What is unity but also what is it not?

Secondly: Is diversity disunity?

And thirdly: What is the relationship between unity and community?

I’ll try and answer these questions before coming back to the conversation that I began with and to explore whether thinking more about what we mean by unity might affect how we talk to, and about, other Christians.

So my first big question: What is unity and what is it not?

Unity is one of those things we as Christians aspire to and pray regularly for. We are right to do so. Jesus prays for unity in the reading from John’s gospel that we have just heard. In that reading John is recounting a prayer that Jesus prayed at the Last Supper. But we might not be clear about what unity is precisely.

Firstly and most importantly unity for Christians is unity with God and not just, or even mainly, unity between Christians. So for Christians unity has both a horizontal and a vertical dimension. The great promise of Jesus, in his sermon to the disciples at the Last Supper, is that we can have unity with God the Father though him and though the Holy Spirit – the vertical dimension – but also that because of this unity with God we can hope for unity with one another - the horizontal dimension. If you only remember one thing from this sermon today please remember that unity with God is more important for us than unity with one another, because it is impossible to have true and abiding unity with one another unless this is grounded in our relationship with God.

Secondly unity has two aspects: oneness and togetherness. We are unified when we are one body rather than two, three or more different bodies. To become one body we need to come together rather than move apart from one another. For example we are one body when we come together in one place, at one moment in time, to share in one bread. Jesus, in our reading, prays for both oneness and togetherness. In Chapter 17 verse 21 he prays for oneness – he prays that those who believe in him ‘may all be one’ But in verse 24 he prays for togetherness: that ‘they (the disciples)…may be with me (Jesus) where I am’. It is clearly possible for a group of people to be one but not together or together and not one. Both oneness and togetherness are important for unity.

Thirdly unity is primarily a gift to be prayed for rather than something we can make happen. At the Last Supper, Jesus prays to his Father for the gift of unity for his disciples – and not just the disciples – those ‘who believe in me though their word’. The world often sees unity as something that can be got by our own efforts. It’s often assumed that we can achieve unity if we work hard enough for it. And of course we are not powerless in this regard. We can, to a degree, do things to increase our chances, if you like, of unity with God and one another. We can pray for a start and we can endeavour to be united with our fellow Christians. But at the end of the day it is God who gives us unity.

All of this doesn’t really get to the heart of the question of what unity really is. One obvious thing it might be is love. So is it ‘just’ the love of God for us, us for God and us for one another? That there is a clear connection between love and unity is perhaps obvious. In verse 23 Jesus prays to his Father that he may be one with the disciples and that they may become perfectly one with one another, ‘so that the world may know that thou has sent me and hast loved them’. But this verse indicates that Jesus is praying for unity so that the Father’s love might be demonstrated, so clearly unity is a prerequisite for that demonstration of love and not the same thing.

It is perhaps easier to say what unity is not rather than what it is. And one thing it clearly isn’t is uniformity of belief or practice. Of course there is a relationship between unity and belief? At verse 20 Jesus makes it clear that he is praying for unity for those ‘who believe in me through the disciples’ word’. But what does he mean by ‘believe in me’ precisely?

Clearly ‘believing in Jesus’ is much more than just believing that he existed or that he died on a cross or even that he rose from the dead. It’s clearly doesn’t really matter what we believe in relation to the synoptic question but does it matter what we believe about transubstantiation, substitutionary atonement, etc? Well I don’t think so, but some might. (I am afraid I am not going to explain what transubstantiation and substitutionary atonement are today even if I could) I think when Jesus talks about people who believe in me he means just that. It’s deliberately vague. But in your heart of hearts I think you know whether you believe in Jesus or not.

I am sorry if that makes some people here feel uncomfortable. It would make me feel uncomfortable at certain points in my life when I doubt whether I really believe in Jesus or not. But I know there are times when I really do believe in him and I have come to believe that you can’t make yourself belief things that you don’t. Just as I cannot make myself belief that 1 + 1 = 3 I cannot make myself believe in Jesus. Belief, like unity, is, I believe, a gift. Sorry that was a bit of an aside.

Back to unity and to say that just as tolerance isn’t unity, unity is much more than uniformity of belief – correct or otherwise.

And so to my smaller and easier to answer second question: Is diversity disunity? Putting the question like that makes the answer obvious. When Jesus prays for his disciples to be one he isn’t praying for them to be all the same – in beliefs or practices or in anything else. Jesus’ relationship with each one of us is very different and so unity can embrace diversity.

The best model we have here is the Trinity. God is one but within that oneness there is diversity: the three persons of the Trinity. God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit are different persons with different relationships one with another. But within the Trinity, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit together are one.

My third question is: What is the relationship between unity and community? You’ll notice unity forms part of the word community. Firstly it’s worth pointing out that Jesus’ prayer, at the Last Suppers, is for all the disciples –and not just for them – also those who believe in him through the disciples. Here Jesus is not talking to or praying for one particular disciple.

When he prays that ‘they may also be in us’ he means that he wants them collectively to be united with him and his Father not just individually. Unity – even in the vertical dimension – can never be a matter of just my relationship with God but our relationships with God. We live in such an individualistic age that we cannot very easily see how we collectively can have a relationship with God that is distinct from our individual relationships (and I am not denying that those are important too). Obviously in the horizontal dimension unity needs at least two people to make any sense at all. And Jesus here isn’t just talking about individual relationships he’s asking for unity for the whole fledgling community of the church

But secondly the fact that the unity that Jesus prays for has to be visible enough to challenge the world to believe in him shows us that what he asking for is not just a spiritual union but a unity that can be seen in both its horizontal and vertical dimensions. In verse 21, for example, Jesus prays for unity ‘so that the world may believe that thou has sent me’ So Jesus is praying for a unity that can be seen by others. And now that Jesus has ascended into heaven this surely primarily means the way that Christians behave towards one another. Unity is, then, made concrete in community. Without community we might say we are united but without actions our words will be just words.

So finally even if we haven’t exactly pinned down what unity is, perhaps we know it when we see it.

Moreover I hope I have said enough to show you that unity is not just tolerance of different beliefs and certainly not just uniformity of belief. But still unity, belief and tolerance are connected so how might reflecting on unity have helped James and Jim in their conversation about changing churches? It does seem to me important that Jesus’ desire for unity amongst his disciples should actually mean something practical particularly – but of course, not just - when as Christians we are talking about other Christians. I am not saying that I am at all perfect in this regard. In fact I am regretting saying something really bad about someone only this week but here is a way the conversation between James and Jim might have been better.



James: I was wondering, Jim, why you left St Justice down the road and joined St Compassion’s

Jim: Well, James, St Justices’ has nice stained glass windows but I was looking for something different.

James: Oh, and why was that?

Jim: Well they are very nice people at St Justices’ but they have ways of worshipping and views that are different to mine.

James: Oh well, welcome to St Compassion’s. We hope you will find your home amongst us. But I feel we at St Compassions should do more with the people at St Justice’s,

The tempation of security

Sermon on Matthew 4: 1-11

 

 

This is a sermon adapted from a sermon preached in the 1960s by Alan Robson and reprinted in it’s entirely in the October 2010 edition of Minsters-at- Work. I have shortened it somewhat and edited it slightly.

 

 

In our reading today ‘Jesus is in the wilderness, face to face with the Devil. God is absent. On the cross the situation is the same. Jesus is face to face with the powers of evil – alone. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Jesus calls out.

  

The twice repeated taunt of the Devil in the wilderness: “If thou be the son of God..,” is echoed by those who jeered at him on Calvary: “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.”

  

In the third temptation the Devil, taking Jesus onto a high mountain, shows him all the kingdoms of the world and promises, “All these things will I give you if you fall down and worship me.” Jesus refuses.

  

Similarly, in the story of the crucifixion, Jesus never compromises with the forces of evil. They have their way and he dies. But the story ends with Jesus – again on a high mountain – saying, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given me.”

  

If it is right to think that the temptation story is a commentary on the Easter story then it must throw light on the meaning of the death and exaltation of Jesus – and on its significance for us. It must reveal what it is about Jesus that makes him good news for us. The details of the temptation story are strikingly peculiar:

• The dialogue between Jesus and the Devil.
• The suggestion of turning stones into bread.
• The picture of Jesus and the Devil standing together on the pinnacle of the Temple.
• The absurd notion that from the mountain-top they could see all the kingdoms of the earth. 

The story is highly imaginative, extravagant in its imagery; it is the stuff that dreams are made of. Yet the essence of it is clear enough. There are three temptations and they correspond to the basic needs we all recognise in our lives:

• I want bread – or economic security;
• I want protection from life’s dangers – like falling from the pinnacle of the Temple;
• I want to rule the world or, in more modest terms, I want to belong – to have power or status. 

Whether or not it is right in this way to find a particular significance in each of the three temptations matters little because in the end they all end up to one fundamental need – the need for security.

  

We are all looking for a life of security, but in our anxious pursuit of security, life itself is passing us by. It is the Devil who tempts us to look to ourselves and our security. God, in Jesus, calls us to forsake our security and get on with living. What the Devil promises in terms of bread, protection and status is only an illusion of security. The Devil’s promise is never fulfilled.

  

But we are called to live, as it were, in the wilderness, deprived of the usual comforts and securities which people crave. But when in that wilderness we turn to God we generally do so in the hope that he will provide just that kind of security that the Devil offers Jesus.

  

Note that, for the first two temptations at least, the Devil is not tempting Jesus to turn against God. He is tempting him to look to God for his personal security – to make use of God to fulfil his own needs. Jesus is in the wilderness; he is hungry and there is nothing to eat. “Go on” says the Devil, “You’re the Son of God; ask him, he will provide you with food”. Jesus is on the pinnacle of the Temple – a desperately dangerous place to be. “Go on” says the Devil, “You’re the Son of God; jump off and he will protect you from harm.”

  

But Jesus will not put God to the test. God sent Jesus into the wilderness not that Jesus might test him, but that he might test Jesus. In the wilderness Jesus is on his own, face to face with the Devil, face to face with temptation to seek his own security. God is nowhere about. God waits on the other side of the wilderness.

  

This is what the cross is all about. It is the ultimate wilderness experience. Jesus is on his own, face to face with the forces of evil. God is nowhere to be seen: “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” God is found on the other side of the wilderness of suffering and death: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given me.”

  

We live at a time when there is widespread disillusionment, apathy, and sometimes open hostility towards Christianity. And when we’ve served up all the usual reasons for this – economic, sociological and so on - the fact remains that people have discovered that the gospel that the Church has regularly preached is not true.

  

The Church has often offered people ‘instant security’ of the kind it knows people desire and then they’ve discovered that it doesn’t work. Putting it bluntly the Church has been doing the work of the Devil: promising that if only people will turn to God all their problems will be resolved. The stones will become bread; they will be protected from all dangers; they will enjoy security and status. This isn’t true, and people know it isn’t true – but then it isn’t the Gospel either…

  

The Church’s real role is to lead people through the wilderness. This means that first we must accept the fact that life is often a wilderness – a wilderness of poverty, homelessness of alienation, estrangement, doubt, anxiety and despair in which not only the poor but the affluent find themselves.

  

Yet we also have a Gospel: we have a word of good news – for those who can take it. But it is a hard word: a stumbling block to some and foolishness to others. I talked about this word a few weeks back.

  

The word is that it is in losing our lives that we shall save them. It is in dying that we live. It is in forsaking all desire for security that we shall find our ultimate security. The Old Testament affirmation: ‘No man shall see God and live’ becomes in the New Testament, ‘No man shall see God except he die’. This, it seems, is the word we find in Jesus.