Tag Archives: faith

Agape

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Two autumnal maple leaves held together to recognise differences in the church that we hope and pray will look for unity rather than division through the shedding of Christ’s blood.

My focus as an ally of LGBTQ+ fellow Christians and those of other faiths and none, was honed by several woefully inadequate letters of apology by the bishops and leaders of the Church of England over the last few years. Through prayer, study and listening, I have concluded that there is no reason, apart from historical conservative dogma, that I cannot afford to offer the same love and blessings to all who seek to celebrate that love within the church. However, I am currently prevented from doing so.

Slow progress has been made, and the Living in Love & Faith (LLF) process has given hope that things would change and that, whilst a singular marriage service for all couples was not yet available, there was the opportunity to offer a service of blessing using the Prayers of Love and Faith resources. Despite this, the House of Bishops have recently announced that further developments would be ‘subject to further synodical processes’. Without wishing to question the wisdom and faith that brought about this decision, like others, I recognised that this was no pastoral letter, as it appears God and his people did not get a mention.

Some have indicated this sounds the death knell to any chance of same sex marriages within the Church of England, but I do believe that God moves in mysterious ways and that their is always hope that His love will overcome.

Holy Saviour,
Agape instigator,
Sentinel of justice
and of peace.
You offered a sacrifice
so costly, we cannot repay.

Whose unconditional love
is poured out
like a mighty flood;
saturating each and every soul,
to overflow to others
regardless of attitude.

Flowing to those who believe,
and those still blind.
Poured equally on those
whose prayer is grace and mercy,
and those whose words
become a shibboleth
of division and disunity.

Showered down alike
on those who live your Word
each and every day,
and those who seek to
misinterpret and subvert
with hidden agendas.

Still that love is offered,
justly on those who witness
to the ends of the earth.
and to those who speak
only of process not people,
in pharisaical fashion.

Encompassing all,
this love is offered.
To be shared not denied,
to be lived not theorised.
to be available not withheld.
Regardless of cost.

This is a boundless love,
yet some would tarnish its name,
and constrict its power,
masking it as truth,
constructed of meanness and hate,
of abuse and wounding.

Let it be not so,
for the rock on which
your church was built is firm,
this present stumbling block
will be removed,
and love will conquer in the end.

If you want to see and hear what affect these decision have on people then the Dean of Southwark Cathedral recently gave an incredibly moving sermon based on his experiences https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LLM_J8YH8Fk

The Inclusive Church network, of which my church is a member, is also asking Church of England members to sign an Open Letter to express our sadness and disappointment at the recent decisions taken by the House of Bishops. If you feel able, please do so here. No voice will go unheard https://www.inclusive-church.org/llf-open-letter/

Transforming The Imperfect

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Sermon preached on Sunday 29th June 2025 – St Peter and St Paul based on Acts 12:1-11, Matthew 16:13-19

May I speak and may you hear through the Grace of our Lord: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Today the church celebrates Peter and Paul, hence our very brief foray into back into red vestments. Two men, both in their way founders of the Christian church. Peter an original disciple and Paul the visionary missionary. However, our texts on this occasion focus on Peter or Simon Peter or Cephas.

They also feature the most amazing jail break ever. Not one for cinematic viewing, with explosions, masked accomplices and a speedy get away car, but an unopposed walk out to freedom, or at least for the moment, freedom.

A week or so ago, Charlie and I accompanied some 90+ Year 6 pupils to their annual Year 6 Leavers’ service. The coach journey was noisy, with excitement and anticipation, and the day was very warm as we threaded our way through to the cathedral from our drop off point, to the great West door, or doors to be more precise.

For many students, this was their first visit to the cathedral, and it’s always great to see their expressions change from their normal everyday ‘we’re too ‘grown up’ for this now’, to a real ‘Wow!’ moment as they step through the door.

Of course, when they look back at the jigsaw puzzle that is the West window, and hear about its destruction at the hands of the Cavaliers during the English Civil war – although the legend of masses of Cavaliers on horseback entering the cathedral and shooting their guns or lobbing the bones of the saints and bishops to break the window is not supported by specific records – it becomes even more amazing.

However, standing in front of the Great Screen behind the high altar and seeing all of the figure sculptures, most of which had been removed in the Tudor reformation and thus spared this destructive mayhem, a real sense of the majesty of Christ at the very centre of those who were part of his story and who took up and continued the work he had started on earth become apparent.

There, placed above Jesus’ head to the left, or at Jesus’ right hand is Peter, holding an exceptionally large key. In fact if we look at our very own East Window we can see Peter in the top left hand corner – with Paul, holding those keys.

The East Window at St James’ Church, West End, Southampton

Peter, the disciple, who so often gets it wrong as he works his way through coming to faith, but whose faith and trust in God, in the person of Jesus is unshakeable. His is a journey of transformation, and our two readings this morning reveal that journey. In fact, these two moments, separated by a few years, reveal a shaping of faith that many of us can relate to. Peter is not perfect, but he is faithful—and more importantly, God is faithful to him.

In our gospel reading, Jesus asks a pointed question, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ and it is Simon Peter who answers with boldness and clarity, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’ This is Peter at his finest, as moment of divine insight; and Jesus responds not with mere affirmation but with a calling: ‘‘Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! … I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock, I will build my church… I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven’.

People often wonder when and why Simon becomes Peter, and here we have the moment. The name Peter or Petros in Greek. literally means ‘stone’ or ‘rock’. The term ‘rock’ in the Bible often symbolizes strength, stability, and reliability, yet we know Peter was not always any of these things. He would deny Christ. He would falter. But Jesus sees the finished product even while Peter is still under construction. And God doesn’t wait for us to be perfect to call us. He calls us, then perfects us.

We also have to remember that whilst Peter was the ‘rock’, Jesus remained the cornerstone, the foundational stone in a building, acting as a reference point for the rest of the structure. Again, holding symbolic significance, representing that strength and stability, and the beginning of a new endeavour. Later in Ephesians 2, we hear of the Jews and Gentiles coming together as God’s people, ‘built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone’.

But now let’s turn to our reading from Acts. Here we see Peter, no longer the impetuous fisherman, nor the fearful denier by the fire. He is a leader of the church. And he is in prison. King Herod has killed James, and Peter to be next. He is chained between soldiers, guarded by sixteen men. The situation is hopeless from a human standpoint.

But the passage says, ‘the church prayed fervently to God for him’. And in the darkest hour—the night before his execution—God sends an angel. Chains fall off. Iron gates miraculously open. And Peter walks out, dazed, into the freedom only God can give.

This is the same man who once sank in fear on the water. This is the same man who once wept bitterly after denying Christ. but who at the beginning of the passage is sleeping in peace on the eve of death. What has changed? Well, Peter has learned to trust God completely. He doesn’t panic. He doesn’t beg. He rests – knowing now, after years of walking with Jesus, that even in prison, God is in control.

So where does that leave us? Where are we on our own journey of transformation? Some of us are like Simon in Matthew’s gospel—full of zeal, making bold confessions, still growing. Whilst some of us are like Peter in Acts – learning to be at peace and placing our trust in God in all eventualities.

And God sees us not as we are, but as the people we are becoming. He is building His church—not on perfect people—but on those who confess him truly and trust him deeply. And Peter’s journey, from bold confession to miraculous deliverance, reminds us that no one is beyond God’s reach, and no situation is beyond His power. So let us place our complete trust in him now, because God is still writing our stories. Amen.

Do You Know How Much That Cost?

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Sermon preached on Passion Sunday 6th April 2025 based on John 12:1-8 and Philippians 3:4b-14

‘Do you know how much that cost? I could have used that for a lifetime,’ was the heated response to discovering my best perfume bottle smashed on the bathroom floor and my two daughters looking guilty, but both ready to finger point the blame on the other. ‘But mummy, we were playing princesses and you always look like a princess when you go to one of daddy’s balls, and we wanted to smell the same’.

How could one carry on being angry, with that explanation, but I did try hard for a little while longer and there was no pudding at dinner time…

The fact is we make a lot of value judgements, about things that we think are precious, we sometimes even hoard things, thinking that one day we will benefit from being the only one that has a year’s supply of toilet paper, and we salt our money away forgetting that it will be of no value to us when the final curtain comes down, and we have not made any memories for those who come after us to share.

Now I’m not suggesting that we should waste these things, and we are not going to solve world hunger or provide for all those less fortunate than ourselves overnight, but knowing when to be generous, not only with your money or your time but your love is surely more important.

In our gospel reading today we find Jesus once more visiting the home of his dear friends, Mary, Martha and Lazarus. He is on his way to Jerusalem to face a fate that will ultimately prove all of the things that he has taught his followers and fulfil the prophetic messages that the Saviour of the World, the Messiah has lived among them. It’s a fate that he accepts willingly but which is much harder to accept for those who have loved and known him as a man living among them, a man which the words of one worship song describes as ‘way maker, miracle worker, promise keeper, light in the darkness’.

Of all the people surrounding Jesus that day in the house, it was Mary who realised that now was not the time to hoard her most precious possession, but to use it unstintingly to show her devotion to the person who had commended her choice to sit at his feet and had taught her everything she needed to know about how life should be lived.

Now it was her turn to offer a deep reverence and recognition of Jesus’ impending sacrifice. It also held a rich symbolic meaning, that through the act of anointing, an action usually reserved for the consecration of priests and kings, she recognised Jesus as the true Messiah. Where she once sat, she now anoints his feet with her hair, displaying humility and devotion.

Her use of pure nard, a valuable and aromatic oil, signifies the importance and sacredness of the moment, and its perfume was bittersweet, filling the house with its fragrance, but also a prophetic act foreshadowing Jesus’ death and burial. His acknowledgement that this was done ‘in advance of my burial’ also allows us, who already know what is to come, that there would be no need to follow the normal burial rituals as there would be no body in the tomb which to anoint!

Still, there has to be a killjoy to this incredible act of devotion, and here is where Judas steps in. I have to admit that having written a thesis on whether he might be identified as God’s scapegoat, I have own up to having a soft spot for the reviled figure of Judas.

Without Judas at this time there would have been no ‘betrayal’, no manipulated trial, no crucifixion and thereby no resurrection. Perhaps it was inevitable that someone amongst his followers would have eventually turned against him, with the promise of financial reward, but the poignancy that it was one of the disciples at this point in the story is both hard for us to comprehend as its consequences were to be for Judas.

Being a disciple meant having a unique and intimate relationship with Jesus, which makes Judas’s later actions even more significant and tragic. John’s stark statement, ‘the one who was about to betray him’ foreshadows the fulfilment of Old Testament prophecies, such as Psalm 41:9, which speaks of a close friend lifting his heel against the psalmist.

Even my close friend, someone I trusted, one who shared my bread, has turned against me.
Psalm 41:9

Moreover, Judas’ betrayal is a critical event in the Passion narrative, raising questions about predestination and human responsibility, as Judas’ action were foreknown by Jesus, yet he acted of his own volition. Here was someone who must have grown to know the true value of being one of Jesus’ disciples, but who wasn’t ready to give his all if it meant giving up what was precious to him, his life, which is ironic as his decision ended up with him doing just that.

Judas’s questioning attitude contrasts with the faith and devotion expected of a disciple and follower, highlighting his internal conflict and eventual betrayal. For John the Evangelist, who was writing his gospel some fifty years after the events of Jesus’ passion, his thoughts about why and what Judas had done had not improved with age. His scathing remarks about a thief, who stole from the common purse, does not speak of love and forgiveness, and by this time the name of Judas had become an idiom to mean someone whom you accused of being deceitful and a betrayer of friends or country.

And then there is Paul, persecutor turned zealot, but with good reason. As a 1st century Jew, he could claim to have attained a sufficient righteousness before God, exemplified by adhering to the Torah’s commandments and engaging in acts of loving-kindness, aiming to be a light unto the nations and fulfilling his purpose as one of God’s chosen people.

Yet this valuable store of righteousness, is being cast aside in exchange for what Christ is offering instead. Not a righteousness ‘that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith’. Everything is being swept aside as ‘rubbish’, of so little worth because of the value of the heavenly prize that Jesus offers, eventual resurrection from the dead.

So where do we see ourselves in all of this? Are we willing to give up everything? Do we give up those things that are precious to us to show how much faith we have?

The fact is each and everyone of us is seen by God as individuals, people who face daily decisions about how we live our lives. He knows the choices we have to make about how we spend our time and our money, but more importantly about how we share our love and our care for others. How we share the Good News that Jesus’ passion brings for all of us.

Perhaps this could be a new beginning as once more over the next couple of weeks we are going to hear the story of the greatest gift ever offered to us all. Let’s just make sure that we really hear the message and be prepared to accept and continue to generously share it each and every day going forward.

Amen

Keeping Faith

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Sermon preached on Sunday 23rd February 2025 based on Luke 8:22-25

May I speak and may you hear through the Grace of our Lord; Father, Son and Holy Spirit

I wasn’t expecting to end up in A & E on Tuesday, I certainly hadn’t planned to be, and I didn’t know it was going to last a whole twelve hours. The day has been going so smoothly, car in the garage having new tyres fitted – tick. A pleasant visit exploring the many delights of the garden centre, including a delicious lunch in the company of two granddaughters – on their best behaviour – tick. Excited chatter in the kitchen as baking with granddad got underway and flour and eggs were beaten and cracked – tick. Just the dog to take for a walk, to get some chocolate buttons requested for decoration requested…

The thing about tripping over your own feet is that it is totally unexpected. One moment admiring the spring flowers in the gardens, the next lying prone on the pavement, having connected head with said surface with an almighty whack. Two passing motorists stopped to come to my aid, and an informal paramedic examination by my son-in-law advised me that it really was necessary to go to A&E and that I couldn’t just stick a plaster on it and carry on.

I have the say that the first three hours were somewhat unremarkable after the initial flurry of information exchanged with the admissions team as I watched a lot of people coming and not going, some in obvious pain and suffering, others beyond pretending it was all going to be fine because their bodies showed clearly their illness, and others more stoic, but nonetheless anxious because of the unknown.

At this stage I very tentatively asked the million-dollar question – and was told very politely, ‘how long is a piece of string’ and that I hadn’t been forgotten, I was moving up the list and patients were being seen in order of need. Everybody in that waiting room was in the middle of a storm, which for many had blown up out of nowhere. They were frightened and lost because there was no clear sense of when or how they would be able return to normality. A fear of not being in control to make their own decisions.

Which is exactly how the disciples were feeling. They had been with Jesus for only a short time but had already seen things that confirmed their belief in Jesus, but which were also beyond their natural comprehension, the raising of the widow’s son and healing through faith alone. One can imagine that sitting listening to Jesus preaching a series of parables from a little fishing boat, pushed out a few feet from the shore was thought provoking and challenging, as well as the crowds that were beginning to gather in their thousands to hear what he had to say on that shoreline in Galilee.

However, according to Mark’s gospel, the day is drawing to its close and Jesus wants to get to the other side of the lake, as the Sea of Galilee was also known. Saying farewell to the multitude of people, they push away from the shore to head out into the deeper water. Nothing about this is usual, this shoreline and particular body of water is home to several of the disciples; they know this lake like the back of their hand. Even sailing into the sunset would not have been unusual, as they were used to fishing through the night.

It had obviously been a long day for everyone, and so it was hardly surprising that ‘while they were sailing, he fell asleep’. Jesus is exhausted. There is no doubt that he is entirely divine and yet he is at the same time entirely human. He gets hungry and thirsty, and he suffers pain and weariness and the need for sleep. He was worn out and asleep.

However, Luke’s account is about to give us one of the most interesting displays of Jesus’ two natures: human and divine. His physical weariness as a man, and as we shall see, his divine influence over nature.

Suddenly, a gale swept down the lake. Again, nothing that may be considered unnatural. Every time a fisherman got into a boat on the Sea of Galilee, they knew the risk. This lake is nearly 700 feet below sea level, surrounded by mountains. Deep ravines coming down the mountains act like funnels for the wind, picking up incredible speed. And that cold air rushing downwards collides with the warm air on the lake and creates hurricane conditions and 20-foot waves without warning.

The boat was filling with water, and they were in danger. The boat they were in was no modern-day fishing trawler, it would have been no more than an oversized rowing boat, and in the midst of this storm, Jesus is sleeping. What to do then?

Our first question might be, how can he still be asleep, does he not know what is happening, what we are going through. I wonder if sometimes we think this when we’re in the middle of our own storm, although we might not say it out loud. Because surely, he knows everything. Maybe he does know, but he doesn’t care. One wonders why the disciples didn’t try and wake Jesus up at least ten minutes earlier, when the storm was developing, why wait till the boat was swamped? Again, many of them were fishermen, and here was a carpenter. They had seen this before and had lived through storms – just keep bailing water James and John, we can handle this!

It would be easy to criticise the disciples for failing to simply put their faith and trust in Jesus, but I wonder what our faith and trust is doing in unexpected, difficult, dangerous, painful, confusing, life-threatening situations?

Finally, in desperation, they wake him up, shouting, ‘Master, Master, we are perishing!’ And he awoke and rebuked the wind and the raging waves; they ceased, and there was a calm. The 20-foot wave heading their way, which sees them crouching down, arms covering their heads, never reaches them, instead the sea is like glass; everything is immediately still. I bet none of us has ever splashed or stirred water to find it completely motionless when we stop, but then which of US has a divine influence over nature.

He said to them, ‘Where is your faith?’. He isn’t saying ‘you have no faith’ but asking them, ‘Where did your faith go?’. Because the problem when we face unexpected tests in our life, it isn’t that Jesus isn’t there for us, it’s that our trust in Jesus goes missing. Again, the problem isn’t that Jesus stops looking after us, the problem is we stop looking to him.

In this and other similar situations, Jesus demonstrates his power and divinity, ‘Who then is this, that he commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him?’

But at the heart of everything is his love and care for each of us. Certainly, Jesus may not eliminate every storm, but he guarantees his presence in every storm. He might not calm the waves and the wind, but he is able to bring a calm to our troubled hearts. So that we too can be still and know that he is God.

Back to that waiting room, then, and please don’t think that this is in any way a complaint about the service that I received. The NHS is a megalithic machine but the cogs that keep the wheels turning couldn’t be praised more. From the nurse who walked an elderly gentleman to a nearby bus stop to make sure he could get home, to the young mum reassured that her young child was not causing a disturbance because she had had to bring her with her as she accompanied her own mother; to the cup of tea offered, unrequested just at the right moment when refreshment was needed. At each and every turn there was kindness and compassion, reassurance and a genuine desire to bring calm to troubled waters. It certainly restored my faith in the system.

Original artwork by Bernard Allen, The Calming of the Storm

Spiritual Gifts

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Sermon preached on 19th January 2025 based on 1 Corinthians 12:1-11 and John 2:1-11

Receiving a gift can be very exciting. Maybe we only have to look back a few weeks to Christmas Day, or a Christmas Day from your childhood, and waking up to find all those presents under the tree. Wondering which ones might be yours.

When you opened them though, I wonder what your reaction was. The best ones drew amazement, that you’d received the very thing you’d wished for and had been thinking about since at least September!

Or maybe you were surprised and unsure about what the gift actually was or did, so you need time to think about it?

Or even opening it and immediately setting it aside, perhaps it would do as a donation for a raffle prize, or to a charity shop, but importantly to remember to say thank you to the person who gave it to you.

Now what if we were to do the same with the gifts that we receive from God through the Holy Spirit? Putting them to use straight away, setting them aside through fear and uncertainty or rejecting them all together.

Our passage today from Corinthians talks about us being pagans, people without God, easily led astray by worthless enticements and trickery. Like the magicians in the court of Pharoah we might have viewed our gospel reading concerning the turning of water into wine as a magic trick.

Until we realise that despite his reluctance to begin his ministry with a somewhat unusual miracle, Jesus was indeed ready to show us what gifts he possessed… and which his mother already knew about!

Perhaps also, the disciples, who had only just recently thrown everything over to follow this man were reassured that God was indeed with Jesus and that the Holy Spirit was a living gift to enable these things to happen and to reveal his glory in order to strengthen their belief in him.

What about ourselves then? Well, we know that God has known us since before we were in the womb, knitting us together to become the people we are. So, he would be very aware of the strength of our characters, and the abilities we have, even if we’re not quite aware of them always. He would know the inherent skills we display and the skills that lie in our sub-conscious, waiting to be activated.

Did you notice though that there is one gift of the Spirit that is given to everyone – the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. This underpins the Christian faith and is the thing that unites not only Christians with a desire to serve others, and to insist on the dignity of every individual, but also can be found in many other faiths and religions around the world. Perhaps showing God’s ultimate sovereignty because he has ultimately activated them in everyone.

Then we come to individual gifts, those wise men and women among us who know how to act for the best and guide us to do good. A gift subtly different from having great knowledge as viewers of University Challenge and Only Connect will verify.

Those people who encourage us in our faith and our own sense of belief, whether we are able to work miracles or to speak out about choices being made on our behalf? The skills to communicate and teach or to solve problems that will benefit everyone.

And within each of these gifts there are subtleties – the gift of the surgeon’s skill to save lives, equally as valuable as the hand held in the act of friendship and love that can comfort and offer healing.

All of these are produced through the gift of the Spirit and may be given to us as and when they are needed in our lives.

So how do we respond? It is with great joy and excitement and an inner confidence that this is who we are meant to be. Or with uncertainty, unsure how to use the gift that you’ve been presented with something that you don’t believe you have the skills or capacity to be able to deal with. Or even that you dismiss the gift, certain that it’s not meant for you because you already know what’s what?

 What it all boils down to is ‘do you believe this?’ Is God through the Holy Spirit able to discern for us the paths we should take through life and equip us with the necessary skills to do so?

This very question is being asked in this year’s Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. The exact question that Jesus asked Martha before bring Lazarus out of the tomb alive again. ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?’ She said to him, ‘Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.’

Or our signature doubter, Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe”. Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!”

Recognising our common belief and the fact that God, though the Holy Spirit has given each and every person a gift that can be used to bring us together, is a challenge as well as an invitation to deepen connection and belonging and to live faithfully as disciples of Christ.

Perhaps then as we shortly share our common belief in the words of the Creed, we will remember that it comes from the Latin word credo, meaning ‘I believe and trust’.

And try to remember, as St. Jerome once said, ‘never look a gift horse in the mouth’. Amen

Follow Me…

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Sermon preached on Remembrance Sunday 2024 based on Mark 1:14-20

Alfie Couzens was nineteen years old. He had been born within a couple of years of the ending of the Great War, the war to end all wars. Born, after his father, had marched back from France with the victorious troops to a hero’s welcome, but who had then quietly slipped back into the fishing community in the remote Scottish isles. Alfie was an only child for some six years before he was joined by two more brothers and a sister.

His father had been a sniper in the army and had faced some harrowing experiences that were never talked about, and his mother would often hush the children’s games of battles and combat, fought with stick guns and pinecone hand grenades if his father was at home.

Despite their remoteness on the island, the community was very much aware as they heard about the rise of Hitler in the 1930’s and knew what it implied.

So, in the summer of 1939, when Alfie got home one day, he asked his father directly, ‘Is there going to be a war?’ ‘Probably,’ his father replied. ‘And the sooner the better!’ There was no mistaking the horror on his mother’s face.

‘It’s true,’ his father continued. ‘Every extra day we give that madman, the more powerful he’ll become; and this damn government we’ve got, thinks it’ll buy him off with sweet and reasonable arguments. We’re always the same, hoping things will work out. We’re too used to winning, that’s our trouble; this time we might be in for a big surprise.’

It wasn’t long afterwards that Alfie received the call, and with a group of fellow islanders marched down to the jetty and sailed away, to become part of the 51st Highland Division, who were to see action at Dunkirk, the majority of whom would be taken prisoner.

Those who remained on the island did not delude themselves as to the probable goodwill that Hitler would have towards them, and yet those young men went to war; sacrificially for many, fatally for some. Their elder generation knew much about the hazards and horrors of the trenches, yet the young men joined up anyway and answered the call issued by their leaders to ‘follow me’ into the field of battle.

Going back in history, some two thousand years ago, and in a wholly different context, Jesus also issued a call, but this time to selected individuals, ‘Follow me’, and Peter, Andrew, James and John heard the call and heeded it, leaving all behind.

For them life would never be the same again, and they were indeed going into the unknown. They were people who had homes and livelihoods, a position in society. Who was to now meet the demand for fish or to pay the licence to fish the lake?

Where was the reassurance of the future that we all look for. We might ask how would this affect our lives or those of our children, our retirements and care in later life? Would we have been so willing to simply drop everything. Perhaps we would say there are too many unknowns.

The gospel does not provide a road map for this, yet Jesus asks that we follow him, to walk with him, in the same way he asked his disciples, and as he walks, he finds people where they are. ‘Follow me’ he says, ‘I will take what you know and transform it’.

Such walking demands a change of heart and commitment to self-giving love. The first disciples exchanged the familiar for an itinerant lifestyle. Most of us will be called to follow in the midst of our work, or family life. ‘Follow me’ is an fundamental requirement that challenges us at moments of decision and transition; it effects our material choices and our human interactions.

But equally we can place our trust in Jesus. We will make mistakes, misunderstand, and seek forgiveness. We are not simply re-enacting a back story, but instead we are being ourselves, bringing our own particular gifts to the work of compassion, reconciliation, and self-giving love.

Equally, as we place our trust in him, then no matter what the future holds for us, having given his life for us, he will never forsake or abandon or deny us. Yes, he may well lead us through the fields of Galilee, and into the waters of the River Jordan. He will undoubtedly take us across the Sea of Galilee and into the wildernesses of the Negev desert. He will lead us up the road from Jericho to Jerusalem and then along the Via Dolorosa until we come to our own personal Calvary.

But he will never fail us or forsake us; he will never let go of that hand which we place in his. We can trust Jesus with our lives, because knowing his story and living it changes us. We are called to share in a task, which for all its costliness brings hope.

Today on this Remembrance Sunday amongst other things we give thanks for the sacrifice of the millions who sacrificed their lives in two World Wars, and for those who are still caught up in war. For the men like Alfie and his father who answered a call to try and bring an end to hatred, greed and self-glorification and bring the world hope.

Sadly, the world is still in a state of flux but none the less without their sacrifice we would not be as we are now, living in freedom. The poppies that we shall soon set on the memorial, a memorial containing the names of those from this parish, are symbols of our thanks and tokens of our resolve to work for peace and to prevent any such need for sacrifice to be necessary again.

So may our prayers this morning, echo the words from a familiar hymn, ‘Make me a channel of your peace, where there is hatred let me bring your love, where there is despair in life let me bring hope and where there is doubt, true faith in you.’ Amen

Alfie Couzens is a fictional representation of the many who marched away to answer the call. His story is based on Findlay J Macdonald’s memoirs of his childhood in Harris in the Outer Hebrides called, Crowdie and Cream

Who Is My Mother, Who Is My Brother…?

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Sermon preached on Sunday 9th June 2024 – Trinity 2 – based on Mark 3:20 to end.

May I speak and may you hear through the Grace of our Lord: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Who is my mother? Well, if I was being asked to complete an official form to aid my family history I think I could answer that one correctly; Peggy Missin, born 12th September 1932 in Clenchwarton, Norfolk, died 8th February 2018. Who is my brother? Well, again that’s quite easy – no one, I was an only child.

Of course this wasn’t the answer that Jesus was looking for in today’s gospel. Indeed it wasn’t even the question, which was – Who are my mother and my brothers?

We are only three chapters into Mark’s gospel, which unlike Matthew, doesn’t start with a sixteen verse genealogical list of Jesus’ lineage. No, Mark starts simply with the lead up to the beginning of Jesus’ ministry.

From the other gospel’s we can piece together some ‘facts’ about Jesus’ early life. According to Luke, Jesus was born in Bethlehem, he was presented in the Temple as a baby and recognised by Simeon as the Messiah, but soon afterwards was taken into Egypt as a refugee from the genocide ordered by King Herod. When this danger had passed he returned with his family, not to Bethlehem, but his familial home town of Nazareth, about ninety miles to the north, where he grew up without much incident that we know of, apart from his theological debating skills at the age of twelve with the elders in Jerusalem on a Passover visit.

In Jesus’ day, Nazareth had a population of about a hundred and fifty, most of whom were interrelated. The Nazarites, were a small sect of Jews who believed they were the shoot – the “Netzer” – from the stump of Jesse, from whom according to Isaiah, the promised Messiah would come.  However, the negative references to Nazareth in the Gospel of John suggest that ancient Jews did not connect the town’s name to prophecy. They followed the teachings of Rabbi Shammai and were strictly orthodox and ultra-conservative.  They had as little to do with the outside world as possible, much like Hasidic Jews today.

Some thirty years later and further south, in the wilderness of Judea, a relative of Jesus appeared, namely John, who was preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, with a view that the arrival of the Messiah was imminent, a prophecy fulfilled when Jesus presented himself for John’s baptism.

After John the Baptist was taken into custody by the authorities and imprisoned, Jesus now steps forward and announces his ministry, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’

His speech in the synagogue at Nazareth creates an uproar.  ‘“The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

He then goes on to prophecy about God’s judgment upon Israel.  It was not what the elders wanted to hear.  They dragged him out of the synagogue, took him out to the edge of town and were prepared to stone him to death. But for some reason, they stopped short.  Jesus walked away and never looked back.  He left his home and his family and moved to the nearby city of Capernaum on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee.

Things were different there. The synagogue was more open to his teaching, ‘They were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as having authority, and not as the scribes.’

He won the loyalty of four local fishermen – Peter, Andrew, James and John; the local tax collector, Levi or Matthew; as well as seven more disciples and any number of followers.  As important as his teaching, he also had the power to heal the sick and perform all sorts of miracles.  People flocked to Capernaum to hear him teach and receive his healing touch.

But with rising popularity came criticism.  His teaching was unlike anything they’d ever heard before.  He broke the laws of ritual cleanliness, he violated the Sabbath, he spoke openly of a kingdom not of this world, he communicated directly and intimately with God.

His behaviour and his speech was so radical that they looked to label it as anti-social linking it to perceived mental health issues. He wasn’t conforming to the status quo. In a word, he didn’t fit the mode.  When it became clear that he had no intention of conforming to the expectations of the religious leaders, they began to say, ‘He is insane’

Apart from clinical diagnosis, people’s perception of mental health draws a thin line between sanity and insanity, and when it appeared, even to his friends, that he’d gone over the edge, they sent word to Nazareth for his family to come at once. So, it fell to his mother and his brothers to come to Capernaum and take him home.

When they got there, they found Jesus teaching in a home.  The place was packed.  People were standing in the doorway and spilling out into the courtyard straining to hear him.  Mary and her sons couldn’t get in, so they sent word, “Tell the teacher that his mother and brothers are outside.”  But when Jesus got the message, he said, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” 

And looking at those who sat around him, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.’

When Mary and the others were told what he’d said, what were they to do. On the surface it seems like a harsh thing to say. Was Jesus now rejecting his family altogether? The fact is, he wasn’t saying, ‘these people are not my mother and brothers, he wasn’t denying the relationship he had with his biological family; he merely expanded the conception of the family circle to include any number of others.  He pointed to a spiritual, rather than a physical, kinship as the basis for life in the kingdom of God. 

The Spirit of God unites us as family in a bond of love able to withstand the storms of life and last throughout all eternity.  It transcends the boundaries of age, race, nationality and gender.  It encompasses people from every station and walk of life.

Whilst we are children of our parents, we are also children of God, and, as we grow in our relationship to God, we’re called to seek God’s will for our lives and follow the leading of God’s Spirit, even when it means overriding the connections to our families.

It can be hard to break away from the authority of our parents, just as it’s hard, as parents, to cut the apron strings with our children. However, Jesus clearly defined the boundaries of parenthood when he asked the question, “Who are my mother and my brothers?”  There could be no mistake about it, his relationship to God came first and foremost, and so must ours.

The Good News is that Jesus’ relationship with his family did not end here; it moved to a new level.  Mary became one of Jesus’ most devout followers.  She stayed by his side, if at a distance, to the very foot of the Cross.  And his brother, James, while hardly mentioned in the gospels, shows up in the Book of Acts as the leader of the church in Jerusalem.

‘Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.’ Take a look around you, we so often talk about our church family. These people who are sitting around you are our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Just like in every extended family, we may not know them that well, we may move in different social circles, we may hold different views and opinions and not agree with them all the time; but we are bound together in our love of God and Jesus’ command to love one another.

And the family ties don’t stop here in this building. Our fellow Christians are in the next town, the next city, in fact our family extends right around the world, wherever God’s name is proclaimed and honoured.

And the best thing we can do for this family is to grow it. I paid a visit to The Vyne, yesterday with my family. This beautiful house and estate was passed to the National Trust because the family lineage ran out with no more heirs to pass it on to. We can’t let this happen to our Christian family.

This afternoon I will baptise two young children, who are beginning their journey of faith, they will receive the sign of the cross on their foreheads, with the words, ‘Christ claims you for his own’ and an exhortation to ‘not be ashamed of Christ. You are his forever’

Today, two more young people being added to the family. What will you do to extend our family further…?

The Spirit of the Lord is on you, because he has anointed you to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent you to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.

Amen.

God’s Promises

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Part of an Old Testament series working our way through the key figures and stories, in which Abram looms large. Based on Genesis 15:1-6

May I speak and may you hear through the Grace of our Lord; Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen

‘Look towards heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.’ Then he said to him, ‘So shall your descendants be.’

A promised reward, a question of lineage, a vision of progeny, a silent indication of trust and a recognition of righteousness. In these six short verses lie the nub of the three great Abrahamic faiths. To date adherents of these number some 3.8 billion people in all the corners of the world, of which we are but a few. However, we first need to go back almost to the beginning, to understand why this one man would be so important both to God and to ourselves.

Our Old Testament reading begins with us needing to know after what things ‘the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision’. Here is a man with an impeccable lineage, whose eight times Grandfather was Shem, the son of Noah. His father, Terah, had set out with their family from Northern Mesopotamia to travel to the land of Canaan, what would become the promised land of Moses and the Israelites, but only got a far as Haran in Eastern Turkey.

However, God called Abram to leave behind his kindred and strike out once more towards Canaan, with the promise that ‘I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing’ (Genesis 12:2). Having reached Canaan, the question of progeny is affirmed, ‘To your offspring I will give this land.’ However, Abram and his wife Sarai remain childless, and a famine forces them into Egypt, where Abram’s sense of self-preservation allows him to use Sarai as a bargaining pawn with Pharoah. Deceit uncovered, they are sent out of Egypt, where the now wealthy and prosperous Abram is once more travelling, and whose destination of the land of Canaan is literally decided by Lot.

God again gives an insight into the breath and length of Abram’s future prolificacy, ‘I will make your offspring like the dust of the earth; so that if one can count the dust of the earth, your offspring also can be counted’ (Genesis 13:16). Yet, Abram and Sarai remain childless, blessed only with the offer of more riches and accolades by the King of Sodom, which Abram rejects, but receiving the blessing of the high priest Melchizedek. Now God offers Abram a vision, not only has he acted a shield and protector of him, but his ‘reward shall be very great’. For Abram though, there is only one reward that will do – an heir, a natural heir of his own.

Being childless can be a painful and heartbreaking process to go through. As human beings we inherently desire to reproduce, to leave a small part of our DNA embedded in our children and children’s children. Abram’s deepest desire to produce offspring allows him the tenacity to question all the promises God has already made to him.

God’s blessing though is not just to produce a physical miracle. The body can be a frail and vulnerable organism, but the divine Spirit is vital and lifegiving. Having promised an incalculable number of descendants comparative to particle of the dust of the earth, he now get’s Abram to look heavenward towards the stars.

For us looking up at night we can not imagine the vastness of the that promise, with our few pinpricks of light moving across the sky, but for Abram in a land where light pollution doesn’t exist, the stars almost smother the darkness.

Yet none of this would have meant anything without Abram’s unshakeable faith that God would deliver. The enormous compassion of God in responding to what Abram desperately wants is only matched by Abram’s trust that God will deliver it. God sees his trust and ‘reckoned it to him as righteousness’ (Genesis 15:6). 

This willingness on the part of God to accept our trust in him as the equivalent of actual goodness is an abiding characteristic. We see it over and over again; ‘your faith has made you well’ to the haemorrhaging woman, the ten lepers, the blind beggar, but no more so than Jesus’ response to the penitent thief on the cross.

Here, as Paul will later refer to in Romans (4:3) and Galatians (3;6), is the first instance of justification by faith. Faith here is not based on the performance of good deeds or religious devotion – although they may be important ways of expressing our faith. Rather that faith is trusting God’s promises and acting as if it will be fulfilled. Throughout the bible God makes many promises – specifically in the New Testament, Jesus promises that he will be with us always and ‘whoever lives and believes in me shall never die’. For us, genuine faith holds on to those promises whatever life throws at us and acts accordingly believing them to be true.

At Abram’s calling God tells him that ‘all the families of the earth shall be blessed.’ because of him. Whatever, your description of family covers, a brother, a sister, a mother or father, adopted or fostered, church or community, you are blessed to be a part of it, and by placing our trust in God, we too can be a blessing to others, for he always keeps his promises.

The 200 billion trillion stars in the universe testify to the magnitude of his greatness, our faith in him testifies to our willingness to always look upwards and outwards and be beacons of hope in this world.

Amen

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Where Were You?

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When they ask, ‘Where were you the day that Jesus died?’ What am I going to tell them?

That I was standing at the foot of the cross, comforting his mother? That I was berating the authorities and telling them what a mistake they were making? Or that I was locked in a room in full self-preservation mode?

What have these last three years taught me, if not to take chances, to shake a soft fist at those who misuse their transient powers and to trust that God has everything in hand. But now the man, who was showing us a new way of living, who was a true teacher of what it means to love God and to love one another; the man whom I was proud to declare as ‘the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’ My closest and most dearest friend, has gone, and perhaps with it all of our hopes and dreams.

Yes, there were signs and warnings, he’d tried to prepare us, but perhaps we were too slow or too dull to really understand what he was talking about. Why would he look at me, Simon, son of Jonah, simply a fisherman and see someone who would be a rock on which to build anything, let alone his church.

How could he trust me to do such a thing, when I couldn’t even trust in him, even though he showed me time after time that I should. That it was possible to step out of my comfort zone and achieve the impossible. How confident I had felt when he told me to do just that and step out of the boat onto those foam flecked waves, eyes set firmly on him, able to walk as he walked. Until my trust wavered and was replaced by this same fear. Even then he caught me, but who will be there now to catch me when I fail, as fail I surely will without him.

So many incredible things that I’ve witnessed, the things we couldn’t explain, miracle after miracle, yet he couldn’t have done any of them if he wasn’t truly God’s Son. Not only satisfying people’s bodies with such meagre portions, the five loaves and two fishes, but curing their ailments, restoring their dignity, giving them another chance in life.

And those whom he literally did give them another chance to live, raising the widow’s son and Jairus’ daughter, and his dear friend Lazarus. I remember Martha, so annoyed that we were delayed, yet still hoping for the impossible, and sweet Mary, whose tears moved him and all us to tears. His breathing life back into them all to show God’s glory, but where is His glory now?

So many people whose lives have been turned around simply because they believed in him. A man who broke the rules to show us what was really important and all I could do at the end was to deny I even knew him. Such shame I will carry deep in my heart all the days that I have left to me.

Indeed, this weight of sorrow bears me down, yet it is nothing compared to the agony he must have suffered. John, with the assurance of youth, was brave enough to be with him at the last and has told us of the cruel way that they treated him. His head already bleeding from the crudely fashioned crown of thorns, they made him carry is own cross, the sheer weight of it too much, that it caused him to stumble and a complete stranger from the coastal town of Cyrene was made to help him. How ironic that it was my namesake that did what I should have been brave enough to do.

And then the taunts and jeers; the deep sorrow of the women and the unconscionable behaviour of the guards, gambling for his clothes. Yet, all who witnessed it to the very end say that his thoughts were for others, asking that they be forgiven, with his talk of paradise and concern for others future well-being.

This human life, so precious to us, that we cling to it as if there is nothing else that matters, yet His has been taken away. Did he feel that he had been abandoned? Forsaken, by his friends, by God himself? Even the one who betrayed us all, Judas, is dead. His heart and mind so full of despair and darkness that he couldn’t bear what he had done.

And when the end came, the sheer dark void of the moment, the world plunged into night as the light of the world was extinguished by those whose power is fickle and fleeting. Surely, theirs is not to be the triumph.

As he died, so the earth trembled and shook so hard that it tore not only the temple curtain in two, but each of our hearts. We will wait until it settles again and use the tools he has given us to try and tell the world what he lived to show us. That we must turn once more to God, to trust in his goodness and mercy and live lives that reflect his love for us, for each other and for Him.  

His body is now sealed in the cold of the tomb and no doubt the women will honour it once the Sabbath is over. But our greatest gift will be to keep his memory alive. For there can be no more talk of abandonment. Our work is just beginning.

When they ask, ‘Where were you the day that Jesus died?’ What am I going to tell them?

Amen

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Advent Waiting

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Sermon given on Sunday 27th November 2022 on the 1st Sunday in Advent based on the following readings: Matthew 24:36-44 and Isaiah 2:1-5

May I speak and may you hear, through the Grace of our Lord; Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen

Today we enter a new season in the church calendar. Our old church year has ended and a new one has begun. The colours around us have also changed, there are purples and pinks and candles to light – one at a time – increasing light coming into a time of shortened days and winter darkness. A feeling of anticipation and rising excitement. Yet we have to wait!

Waiting… the action of staying where one is… time passing… expecting something to happen… until one day it does! Advent, a time of waiting, of hope, of anticipation. We hear in St Paul’s letter to the Galatians, ‘when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son’

Advent is the church in waiting… the church’s annual reminder of what Christians worldwide anticipate in the days leading up to Christmas. We wait for Christmas as Israel waited centuries for a Saviour. Waiting for God to fulfil his covenant, for a virgin’s son of Abraham’s line, a descendant of Isaac, Jacob and David, for a branch from the root of Jesse, for a baby born in Bethlehem called Immanuel.

For generations, God’s people waited for the fulfilment of countless Old Testament prophecies of a Saviour, who would light up this world brighter than any Magi’s star. A Saviour, who was to be called Jesus, the long-awaited hope in a dark and sinful world. The true light, that gives light to every single human, was coming into the world.

As Christians wait for the light of Christmas, the four advent candles are lit with each week’s passing, but we know that our hoping and waiting doesn’t stop at Christmas, because he will return at the last day, a second advent.

Today, it is that second advent that we are thinking about. A time of waiting that equates with that of Israel. Waiting and not knowing when these prophetic events will take place. We can image that it is unlikely to happen in our lifetime, or without knowing it, it could happen before I get to the end of this sermon…. ‘Therefore, keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come.’ So, if you all disappear before my very eyes, I’ll know I wasn’t fully prepared!

It is from the Old Testament that we hear of what will happen in the last days, perhaps a more leisurely climax to the end of time and spoken in the beautiful prophetic language of Isaiah.

On a mountain higher than any we might have stood on and from which caught a glimpse of the awe and wonder of God. A mountain whose peak brushes against the thin veil of heaven, ready at any moment to tear a hole through which the Saviour can return.

From the very beginning of humankind there was but one nation, the nation of Eden. However, human rights, economic disparities and land disputes forced the people to spread to each and every corner of the world, creating nations that forgot the principle of working together for the common good or acknowledging their divine creator.

Then, on a mountain that will stand so prominently above all others, on which the gathering place of the people of God will be built, the nations will stream towards it. I was once given an image by one of my lecturers, Mark Chapman at Cuddesdon theological college, of a smooth sphere spinning in space out of which streams of people, like spumes of gas were escaping and forming new spheres, that bumped and grated against each other, but that how, at the end of time it would be as if the image was being rewound and those streams of people would be sucked back so that eventually the original sphere would take shape, not so smooth, but one single spinning object in infinity.

And the reason that people will want to climb the mountain and will encourage others to come with them, is so that the God of Adam, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, David, Daniel, Peter, James, Paul, Augustine, Francis, Theresa, Luther, Sacks, Mohammed and of you and me, can teach us once more to walk in the ways that He intended us to.

A time of preparation, before Jesus, the Word of God, undertakes his role as the final judge of the people, settling disputes and bringing the nations back into harmony, so that there will be no need of wars, no need for the machinery and weaponry of conflict, no need for military tacticians or economic masters.

Instead, for those who have re-turned to, re-tuned into and re-stored the one true faith, the light of God will shine on them so that they will appear like beacons of hope in the darkness.

It’s a beautiful picture, and one we might dismiss as poetic licence, an Old Testament allegory designed to give hope to the peoples of Israel and Judah who were in dispute, and who had been subjugated by the Babylonians. Yet this same image of a gathering of the nations and the formation of a new earth and heaven is given to us by John in his vision in Revelation, ‘I did not see a temple in the city, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple… The nations will walk by its light and… the glory and honour of the nations will be brought into it,’ and for each and every person, ‘they will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.’

Yet, none of this calls for complacency. Today, tomorrow, next year or whenever… we can’t just simply wait… the things that are foreseen are also the things that we should be striving for each and every day, to work together as individuals and as a global nation, to do all we can to bring about peace between the nations on earth, to teach people the way of God, so that all can be restored

So, this year during Advent, as we continue to watch and pray for our Saviour to come again let us also make plans, whether in the long term or short term… who knows… to prepare ourselves and our world for the smoothest transition and be truly ready, ‘because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him’.

Amen.