The in's and out's of Church

Here's the sermon that I shared this morning at St Andrew’s Wickford:

For Easter 2017 the church I was at in the City of London, St Stephen Walbrook, we were involved in a two-part art work based on the Stations of the Cross and the Stations of the Resurrection. The first part of this project involved the artist Mark Dean in projecting filmed Stations of the Cross onto the central, circular Henry Moore altar at St Stephen Walbrook throughout the night on Easter Eve.

Mark Dean’s videos were not literal depictions of the Stations of the Cross, instead he appropriated a few frames of iconic film footage together with extracts of popular music and then slowed down, reversed, looped or otherwise altered these so that the images he selected were amplified through their repetition. In this way he brought images from outside church into church and made them central to the Easter Vigil by projecting them onto an altar which had been designed for people to gather as a community around the place where God can be found; the Eucharist, the central act of Christian worship, the re-enactment of Christ’s sacrifice.

In St Paul’s Cathedral for the second part of the project, the staging was inverted as the dancers performed in the central space under the dome, whilst Dean’s video was played on television monitors placed around the edge of this circular space. Five dancers emerged from the shadows around the edge of the stage and started to navigate the space, sometimes individually and sometimes in groups, to form tableaux which were visually reminiscent of the acts of protecting, comforting and carrying each other. The dancers regularly perforated the boundary, moving out beyond the stage and the audience, before returning to the centre and reconnecting in different configurations. As a result, the on-lookers found themselves within the action of these movements.

Among the themes that these projections and performances explored therefore were notions of being in and out with the crucifixion as an internal interior focus and the resurrection leading to an outward focus. Similar notions of in and out also inform Jesus’ teaching about the shepherd and the sheep (John 10. 1 - 10), which have traditionally been interpreted as being about the in’s and out’s of salvation meaning that the sheepfold has been seen as representing heaven. Being locked in to a sheepfold overnight seems a strange way of picturing heaven and so I want to explore the imagery of the sheepfold instead in terms of understandings of church.

One part of the role of the shepherd mentioned in Jesus’ teaching is to bring the sheep in to the sheepfold at the end of the day. Thieves and bandits are able to use the cover of night to attack the sheep if outside or not adequately protected in the fold. Jesus says that he is the gate which provides access to this safe space. Those who enter through Jesus are those who are legitimately in the sheepfold, whether sheep or shepherd.

This imagery pictures church as safe space in which rest, recuperation and healing can occur because we are sheltered for a time from the challenges and opportunities – the activity – of the daylight hours. Mark Dean’s decision to project his Passion films onto the central altar at Walbrook, the place of Communion, is in line with this teaching about church, as Christ’s Passion and the Eucharist which re-enacts that Passion is our source of renewal and restoration. Having said that, we also need to acknowledge that there are those for whom church has not been a safe space and hear those valid voices while seeking to build safe spaces in the churches of which we are part.

Gates, however, are two-way. They are entries and exits, because we do not experience fullness of life by being shut up in places of safety; if that is our only experience then we are in prison. The life that Jesus envisions here is one of protection during the darkness when thieves are at large combined with freedom to graze outside of the sheepfold in the light of day. Interestingly in Jesus’ teaching here, finding pasture, finding food, growing and developing, are all things that happen outside of the sheepfold. Jesus’ flock find safety in the fold but they find food outside the fold. This focus differs from the traditional way in which the in and out dimensions of church have been thought about in Ecclesiology, thinking about the nature and structure of church. The IN dimension of church has often been thought of as being about fellowship and community while the OUT dimension is generally seen as involving mission.

On this basis, the IN dimension of church is described as being about fellowship and building community. Jesus prayed that believers would be one. This was a prayer for more than unity; it was a prayer for deep fellowship like that between the Father and the Son – may they be one just as you are in me and I am in you (John 17.21). Believers are to invite each other into their lives. The first Christians modelled this as we heard in our New Testament reading: All who believed were together and had all things in common (Acts 2.44). Church at its best keeps this tradition alive. In the Eucharist, for example, we are reminded that we belong to one another by sharing a common meal.

The OUT dimension of church is then seen as being about mission in its broadest sense. This mission, summed up in the phrase 'kingdom of God', is about bringing wholeness to the entire creation. Its sweep is therefore breathtaking! The mission of the church is seen in this wide context. The church is not the kingdom of God and we must not reduce the horizons of God's mission to the horizons of God's church. But the church is called to share in God's mission.

Although this thinking about the IN and OUT dimensions of Church has validity, as we have already noted, it does not completely accord with Jesus’ teaching here. This is, in part, because the Church has sometimes made an unfortunate separation between time together in the fold and time out in the world. When this has happened, churches have tried to get Christians to spend as much time together in the fold as possible and have therefore focused primarily on church as the place when God is seen and heard.

Such thinking overlooks the fact that Jesus’ parables are stories of everyday life, often of working life. They are stories of the kingdom of God being seen and experienced and that happens most clearly in our everyday lives rather than in church. When we gather together in the fold, in church, we expect to hear from and experience God, so it is when we then scatter to our homes, workplaces and communities that the real test comes. Do we also encounter and feed on God in those places too; in our homes, workplaces and communities? If we do, then we are experiencing and revealing God in the reality of our lives and that is what actually forms a real and eloquent witness to the reality of God in our lives and world. That is why mission is part of the OUT dimension of church.

Then, like Mark Dean bringing images from outside the church into the church to inform our reflection on crucifixion and resurrection, we, too, can bring back stories of encountering the reality of God in the reality of our lives into our gathering together in church to encourage one another that God is to be found both in church and also in the world he has made.

That thought can also help us with another concern that is rightly raised when there is talk of being in and out in relation to church or salvation; that is an understandable and right concern for those who are or who think themselves to be on the outside. Despite the language of in and out, Jesus’ teaching here is inclusive. The sheepfolds he used as his illustrations were communal. Everyone in the village who had sheep brought their sheep to the communal fold overnight. That is why Jesus talks of other flocks and of the sheep recognising the voice of their shepherd. Metaphorically he is referring to the Jews as one folk and the Gentiles as another to say that in God all will ultimately form one flock. Additionally, as we have seen, the boundary separating those on the inside from those on the outside is only for the creation of a temporary safe space and is then breached as the flock go back into the wider world during daylight hours.

The job of the shepherd – the role that Jesus says he plays - is not to keep the flock cooped up together in the sheepfold but to lead them out to find pasture because the sheep are to experience life in all its fullness and find God in this fullness. We see an example of this happening in practice when we look at the reading from Acts 2. 42 - 47 that we heard earlier. There, the early disciples spent time together in their homes, sharing what they had with each other – possessions, money, food – and learning together from their shepherds, the apostles. But they also left the safety of their own gatherings and went out into the city to the Temple and met and taught there too. So, in their practice there was the same pattern of coming in and going out that we have found in Jesus’ teaching. There was also the fullness of life that Jesus spoke about – we can sense the energy, excitement and enthusiasm of these people as they responded to all that Jesus had done for them by talking about him and sharing what they had with others. They had really come alive, their lives had meaning and purpose, their joy was to share all that they had.

We need this same pattern within our lives too; times of joining together with other Christians and with those who teach and lead us and times of being out in the world, in our families, communities and workplaces. Both are essential to us as Christians. If we are just out in the world without the support of times together in the fold, we are likely to become lost like the sheep for which the shepherd had to search. If we just remain in the fold then we do not experience life in all its fullness and do not reveal the reality of God in the reality of our lives. When we leave the fold - the gathering of God’s people – we do not go out on our own, the good Shepherd, Jesus, leads us out and goes with us that we may experience life in all its fullness, finding God in the reality of our lives.

May we, like the dancers at St Paul’s, learn to navigate the spaces of church and world, coming together for protection and comfort then perforating the boundary and moving out, before returning to the centre and reconnecting in different configurations and, as a result, enabling others to find themselves caught up within the action of these movements.

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Strawbs - Is It Today, Lord?

Seen and Unseen: The Magdalene we rarely see

 

My latest article for Seen and Unseen is about the painting 'Magdalene at the Base of the Cross' by Chris Gollon:

'‘Magdalene at the Base of the Cross’ by Chris Gollon has been displayed beside the High Altar of Southwark Cathedral for the duration of Lent as an aid to worship. This image sees Mary Magdalene stretched out at the foot of the cross. A cropped but wide depiction of the scene, we see only the base of the cross, the ground, and the Magdalene embracing the cross.'

For more on Chris Gollon see here, here, here, and here.

My first article for Seen and Unseen was 'Life is more important than art' which reviews the themes of recent art exhibitions that tackle life’s big questions and the roles creators take.

My second article 'Corinne Bailey Rae’s energised and anguished creative journey' explores inspirations in Detroit, Leeds and Ethiopia for Corinne Bailey Rae’s latest album, Black Rainbows, which is an atlas of capacious faith.

My third article was an interview with musician and priest Rev Simpkins in which we discussed how music is an expression of humanity and his faith.

My fourth article was a guide to the Christmas season’s art, past and present. Traditionally at this time of year “great art comes tumbling through your letterbox” so, in this article, I explore the historic and contemporary art of Christmas.

My fifth article was 'Finding the human amid the wreckage of migration'. In this article I interviewed Shezad Dawood about his multimedia Leviathan exhibition at Salisbury Cathedral where personal objects recovered from ocean depths tell a story of modern and ancient migrations.

My sixth article was 'The visionary artists finding heaven down here' in which I explored a tradition of visionary artists whose works shed light on the material and spiritual worlds.

My seventh article was 'How the incomer’s eye sees identity' in which I explain how curating an exhibition for Ben Uri Online gave me the chance to highlight synergies between ancient texts and current issues.

My eighth article was 'Infernal rebellion and the questions it asks' in which I interview the author Nicholas Papadopulos about his book The Infernal Word: Notes from a Rebel Angel.

My ninth article was 'A day, night and dawn with Nick Cave’s lyrics' in which I review Adam Steiner’s Darker With The Dawn — Nick Cave’s Songs Of Love And Death and explore whether Steiner's rappel into Cave’s art helps us understand its purpose.

My 10th article was 'Theresa Lola's poetical hope' about the death-haunted yet lyrical, joyful and moving poet for a new generation.

My 11th article was 'How to look at our world: Aaron Rosen interview', exploring themes from Rosen's book 'What Would Jesus See: Ways of Looking at a Disorienting World'.

My 12th article was 'Blake, imagination and the insight of God', exploring a new exhibition - 'William Blake's Universe at the Fitzwilliam Museum - which focuses on seekers of spiritual regeneration and national revival.

My 13th article 'Matthew Krishanu: painting childhood' was an interview with Matthew Krishanu on his exhibition 'The Bough Breaks' at Camden Art Centre.

My 14th article was entitled 'Art makes life worth living' and explored why society, and churches, need the Arts.

My 15th article was entitled 'The collective effervescence of sport's congregation' and explored some of the ways in which sport and religion have been intimately entwined throughout history

My 16th article was entitled 'Paradise cottage: Milton reimagin’d' and reviewed the ways in which artist Richard Kenton Webb is conversing with the blind poet in his former home (Milton's Cottage, Chalfont St Giles).

My 17th article was entitled 'Controversial art: how can the critic love their neighbour?'. It makes suggestions of what to do when confronted with contentious culture.

My 18th article was an interview entitled 'Art, AI and apocalypse: Michael Takeo Magruder addresses our fears and questions'. In the interview the digital artist talks about the possibilities and challenges of artificial intelligence.

My 19th article was entitled 'Dark, sweet and subtle: recovered music orientates us'. In the article I highlight alt-folk music seeking inspiration from forgotten hymns.

My 20th article was entitled 'Revisiting Amazing Grace inspires new songs'. In the article I highlight folk musicians capturing both the barbaric and the beautiful in the hymn Amazing Grace and Christianity's entanglement with the transatlantic slave trade more generally.

My 21st article was entitled 'James MacMillan’s music of tranquility and discord'. In the article I noted that the composer’s music contends both the secular and sacred.

My 22nd article was a book review on Nobody's Empire by Stuart Murdoch. 'Nobody's Empire: A Novel is the fictionalised account of how ... Murdoch, lead singer of indie band Belle and Sebastian, transfigured his experience of Myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome (ME) through faith and music.'

My 23rd article was entitled 'Rock ‘n’ roll’s long dance with religion'. The article explores how popular music conjures sacred space.

My 24th article was an interview with Alastair Gordon on the artist’s attention which explores why the overlooked and everyday capture the creative gaze.

My 25th article was about Stanley Spencer’s seen and unseen world and the artist’s child-like sense of wonder as he saw heaven everywhere.

My 26th article was entitled 'The biblical undercurrent that the Bob Dylan biopics missed' and in it I argue that the best of Dylan’s work is a contemporary Pilgrim, Dante or Rimbaud on a compassionate journey.

My 27th article was entitled 'Heading Home: a pilgrimage that breaks out beauty along the way' and focuses on a film called 'Heading Home' which explores how we can learn a new language together as we travel.

My 28th article was entitled 'Annie Caldwell: “My family is my band”' and showcased a force of nature voice that comes from the soul.

My 29th article was entitled 'Why sculpt the face of Christ?' and explored how, in Nic Fiddian Green’s work, we feel pain, strength, fear and wisdom.

My 30th article was entitled 'How Mumford and friends explore life's instability' and explored how Mumford and Sons, together with similar bands, commune on fallibility, fear, grace, and love.

My 31st article was entitled 'The late Pope Francis was right – Antoni Gaudi truly was God’s architect' and explored how sanctity can indeed be found amongst scaffolding, as Gaudi’s Barcelona beauties amply demonstrate.

My 32nd article was entitled 'This gallery refresh adds drama to the story of art' and explored how rehanging the Sainsbury Wing at the National Gallery revives the emotion of great art.

My 33rd article was an interview with Jonathan A. Anderson about the themes of his latest book 'The Invisibility of Religion in Contemporary Art'.

My 34th article was an interview with 'Emily Young: the sculptor listening as the still stones speak'.

My 35th article was a profile of New York's expressionist devotional artist, 'Genesis Tramaine: the painter whose faces catch the spirit'.

My 36th article was a concert review of Natalie Bergman at Union Chapel - a soul-soaked set turned personal tragedy into communal celebration.

My 37th article was based on the exhibition series 'Can We Stop Killing Each Other?' at the Sainsbury Centre. In it I explore how art, theology, and moral imagination confront our oldest instinct.

My 38th article article was 'The dot and the dash: modern art’s quiet search for deeper meaning' in which I argue that Neo-Impressionism meets mysticism in a quietly radical exhibition at the National Gallery.

My 39th article was 'From Klee to Klein, Wenders to Botticelli: angels unveiled' in which I explore how, across war, wonder and nativity, artists show angels bridging earth and heaven.

My 40th article was 'When Henry Moore’s Madonna shocked Northampton' in which I explore how a modernist mother and child stirred outrage, then lasting wonder.

My 41st article was 'Turner and Constable: storms, salvation and the sublime' in which I discussed how Tate Britain reveals how rival visions shaped art and spirit.

My 42nd article was 'When converts cracked open the culture’s polished surface' in which I explored how faith’s outsiders disrupted the scene with unexpected force.

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FIREWALL - Sleaford Mods & Chris Gollon, a unique work of art, music and film (2019)

The necessity of betrayal and the stature of waiting

Here's the reflection that I shared this afternoon in the Midday Meditation Service for Holy Week at Billericay Methodist Church:

“God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength …

God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God.” (1 Corinthians 1.18-31)

Jesus chose Judas to be one of his disciples. What does it mean that Judas was chosen?

In The Last Temptation of Christ, the novelist Nikos Kazantzakis has Judas betray Jesus at Jesus’s own instigation. In our Gospel reading (John 13.21-32) Jesus said to Judas, ‘Do quickly what you are going to do’ which can be understood as an instruction to Judas to betray. In the novel Kazantzakis has Jesus say, “There is no other way for the Kingdom of Heaven to come”:

“You will, Judas, my brother. God will give you the strength, as much as you lack, because it is necessary—it is necessary for me to be killed and for you to betray me. We two must save the world. Help me."

Judas bowed his head. After a moment he asked, "If you had to betray your master, would you do it?"

Jesus reflected for a long time. Finally he said, "No, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to. That is why God pitied me and gave me the easier task: to be crucified.”

In our Gospel reading, when Judas has gone out, Jesus says, ‘Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him’. It is as Judas goes to betray Jesus that Jesus says he is glorified, again showing the necessity of Judas’ betrayal.

If it is necessary for Judas to betray, which seems to be the case, then there may be a place for betrayal. The Irish poet Brendan Kennelly wrote a book called The Book of Judas in which he looks at the Judas of Gethsemane, the Judas in our culture and the Judas in us all. He writes:

Be a knife, bullet, poison, flood, earthquake;
Cut, gut, shrivel, swallow, bury, burn, drown
Till someone senses things ain't as they should be.

If betrayal is a service, learn to betray
With the kind of style that impresses men
Until they dream of being me

On this basis Judas becomes even more fascinating as a betrayer. He and his fate become a yardstick for measuring God’s kindness and forgiveness – does He allow Judas to go to Hell, given Judas was predetermined to betray his master?

In U2’s ‘Until the End of the World’ Judas sings to Jesus. The first verse discusses The Last Supper:

We ate the food, we drank the wine
Everybody having a good time except you
You were talking about the end of the world

The second verse is Judas’s betrayal of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane:

In the garden I was playing the tart
I kissed your lips and broke your heart


The third verse is about Judas' suicide after being overwhelmed with guilt and sadness:

Waves of regret and waves of joy
I reached out for the one I tried to destroy
You, you said you’d wait till the end of the world

In this song, Jesus is there at the end of time for Judas.

Jesus chose Judas as a disciple knowing he would betray and that his betrayal would bring about the salvation of the world. He chose someone who has been seen as foolish, weak, low and despised but in doing so chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God.

Jesus chose Judas to be one of his disciples. We’ve thought briefly about what it might mean that Judas was chosen but, ultimately, as U2 sing in a song called ‘Moment of Surrender’: “It’s not if I believe in love / If love believes in me” and so, we pray, “Oh, believe in me” and give thanks that love does believe in us, as love believes in Judas. Amen.
Let’s think now about the interaction between Jesus and Judas from the perspective of what happens to Jesus.

 
“Over thirty years ago, W.H. Vanstone, canon of Chester Cathedral, wrote a book called, The Stature of Waiting. Early in the book, Vanstone talks about Jesus’ betrayal by Judas. The word ‘betrayed’, he says, as when Judas betrayed Jesus, really means ‘handed over’.” He explains that, “The word ‘betrayed’ is used only once in 33 mentions of what Judas did; the other 32 times the phrase ‘handed over’ is used. Where that phrase is used in other contexts of the NT it has no connotation of betrayal – eg the talents are ‘handed over’, Jesus ‘handed over’ his spirit as he died, Paul ‘hands over’ the gospel by preaching it to the Corinthians. The gospel writers use it consistently and automatically; it must have been the stock phrase, perhaps the one Jesus himself used at the Last Supper.”

“The gospels show a marked change from activity to passivity, action to passion, at the point where Jesus was ‘handed over’ – a phrase [which was] in common Christian currency in the first century.” According to John’s account … when Judas leaves the Last Supper to set in train the handing over of Jesus, John tell us ‘that it was night’… which must mean that the ‘daylight’ period is over and that the time foreseen by Jesus has come - the time at which ‘no one can work’, the time at which ‘working’ must give place to ‘waiting’…and is also associated, in a most striking way, with the end of Jesus’ freedom from restraint by human hands … ”from working to waiting and from freedom to constraint.” “The handing over of Jesus was His transition from working to waiting upon and receiving the works of others, from the status and role of subject to that of object, from ‘doing’ to ‘being done to’.”

“Jesus moves from being active to being passive in the Garden of Gethsemane when Judas hands him over.” “Until Gethsemane … Jesus had chosen to spend the whole of his ministry ‘demonstrating God’s kingdom’ both to individuals and to the people as a whole. And his ‘demonstrating’ invited people to respond. He longed for them to respond by choosing to deepen their relationship with God and work in the cause of justice: but that was their choice, it could never be obligatory.”

Vanstone “tells us that the word ‘passion’ comes from a Greek word meaning ‘suffer’: or ‘allow events to happen’.” It means, being passive. “The emphasis is … on being the subject not the object; being a patient.” “The passion then describes the time in Jesus’ life when he stopped taking control of the situation and simply allowed people to respond to him as they chose.” “So Vanstone says: ’The passion is not the pains he endured or the cruel manner in which he was treated by the hands of men but simply the fact that he was exposed to those hands and whatever those hands might do.’”

“This point is important because many people see God as ALWAYS taking control, always active, never passive; yet if Jesus is the perfect revelation of God’s character, Jesus’ passion demonstrates that being passive is also God-like.” “So Vanstone argues that Jesus’ death was the result of his passion, his ‘allowing events to happen’”: ”It wasn’t Jesus’ death that brought us benefits … It was his willingness to spare himself nothing, not even his own life, in the cause of winning the nation to the discipleship of God’s kingdom. He sought from the nation’s leaders that which could not be compelled: the response of discipleship.” “So, when Jesus prays in Gethsemane he still hopes that the priests might respond positively, though he knows it’s unlikely. He prays that God might be able to find him another way through this, another way for his message of love to be heard and understood. And until the moment when the priests come into the garden mob-handed there’s still the slim chance they’ll turn themselves around and support him. But in the garden they make their choice and he’ll accept it for what it is: their choice.”

“Jesus did the only thing that love can do: it can only offer itself out and wait for a response. With love, action must give way to passion, to waiting for a choice to be made. Because, as we know, Love is not possessive: it doesn’t insist on its own way; it never uses force. God offers such a love to us: an abundant, free-flowing, bountiful, love: and he waits longingly for us to want to love him in return. Jesus shows us that God’s love is not only active in showing itself, but passive in allowing us to choose what our response will be.” “The activity of love is always precarious … Herein lies the poignancy of love, and its potential tragedy. The activity of love contains no assurance or certainty of completion: much may be expended and little achieved. The progress of love must always be by tentative and precarious steps: and each step that is taken, whether it 'succeeds' or 'fails', becomes the basis for the next, and equally precarious, step which must follow.” “Love proceeds by no assured programme. In the care of children a parent is peculiarly aware that each step of love is a step of risk; and that each step taken generates the need for another and equally precarious step.”

So, “the hallmarks of the creator’s love for his creation [are] an endless love that must always shift with circumstances to see to the good of the beloved. And a vulnerable love that cannot force a response from the beloved but must watch and wait and hope for a response, whether it comes or not.” “Theologian that he is, Vanstone could not help feeling that these were the characteristics of God’s love for us — a self-emptying (kenosis) love that is always attempting to find out how to address the welter of circumstance that is every individual life.” “In the kenosis, or self-emptying of Christ, nothing is held back, nothing unexpended (Phil. 2:7). In this we recognize God’s love as unlimited. God’s love is also vulnerable. The Lord risks rejection at the hands of His own creatures and is pained by our refusal to accept love. And lastly, God’s love is precarious. By the humble condescension of the Lord, we have power to determine whether His love succeeds or fails in its communication, or its intended effect.” “The vulnerability of God means that the issue of His love as triumph or tragedy depends upon His creation.” This is the form of authentic love. If we want to know 'what love ought to be', we need enquire no further than what the love of God is.

“We live in a world which values activity and action over passivity and passion. We have lost [our understanding of what it means to be ‘handed over’]; but perhaps we should recover it, and in recovering it find our human dignity enhanced, our powerlessness removed – for so we can be like God himself, attaining the dignity which is ours because we share in his being, and reconnecting with some of the values we overlook in our emphasis on doing over being.”

The earlier reflections I given as part of the Midday Meditation Services for Holy Week at Billericay Methodist Church can be found here (A blessing on the earth) and here (Subverting the scapegoat mechanism).

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U2 - Until The End Of The World.

Seven Good Joys of Mary

Here's the homily that I shared tonight in the Beauchamps High School Carol Service held at St Catherine's Wickford:

‘Seven Good Joys’ is a traditional carol about Mary's happiness at moments in the life of Jesus, probably inspired by the Seven Joys of the Virgin in the devotional literature and art of Medieval Europe. I came across this carol through its inclusion on Kate Rusby’s excellent Christmas album While Mortals Sleep.

The carol has a simple, repetitive but beautiful structure:

“The first good joy that Mary had,
It was the joy of one
To see her blessed Jesus
When He was first her Son.
When He was Her first Son, Good Lord;
And happy may we be,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
To all eternity”

That structure is repeated for all seven joys. There are different British and US versions of the carol which taken together give more than seven joys but the basic joys of Mary of which the carol speaks are to see her own Son Jesus: suck at her breast bone; make the lame to go; make the blind to see; read the Bible o'er; bring the dead alive; upon the crucifix; and wear the crown of heaven.

These seven joys take us from the nativity of Christ (suck at her breast bone) through his ministry (make the lame to go; make the blind to see; read the Bible o'er; bring the dead alive) to his death (upon the crucifix), and on to his resurrection and ascension (wear the crown of heaven).

Part of the reason this carol resonates, besides its beauty, is that it links Christmas with Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. It even dares to list the Crucifixion as one of Mary’s joys, an incomprehensible idea unless viewed with the eyes of faith.

So the singing of a carol like this can help us more fully explain the meaning of Christmas and save it from mere sentimentality because, as the carol describes, Christ is born into our world to save us by his life, death, and resurrection. That is the ultimate lesson of every true Christmas tradition and the source of all our joys as Christians, as well as those of Mary. May that be our experience this Christmas as we sing carols and hear, once again, the Christmas story told.

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Fine Lads feat. Randy Matthews - Seven Joys of Mary.

The mystery of faith

Here's the sermon that I shared at St Andrew’s Wickford this morning:

Very shortly in the Eucharistic Prayer we will say: ‘Great is the mystery of faith: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.’ This Eucharistic Acclamation focuses on Christ’s crucifixion, resurrection, and second coming as the essential elements in the mystery of our faith.

St Paul’s first letter to Timothy has a slightly different and expanded list of what constitutes the mystery of our faith (1 Timothy 3.14-end), so let’s look briefly at the items in Paul’s list.

He was revealed in flesh – this is the mystery of the incarnation; that Jesus becomes one of us, moving into our neighbourhood and experiencing all that we experience, meaning that God understands all that we go through and takes it into himself in order that we are united with him - being with us, so we can be with him.

Vindicated in spirit – the mystery of vindication is at least twofold. Jesus was vindicated when those things he had prophesied, such as the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem – came true. He was vindicated as a true prophet as a result. He was also vindicated when the Holy Spirit came upon his disciples at Pentecost. Again, this was a promise he had made that was later fulfilled after his Ascension. But also, and more deeply, his Spirit was seen in his disciples and his Spirit taught his disciples all about Jesus. So, his disciples receive his Spirit and learn how to live like him by his Spirit.

Seen by angels – Jesus’ birth was hymned and proclaimed by angels as they sang peace on earth, goodwill to all. Angels were involved at every stage of his birth from the angel at the Annunciation, through the angels that appeared to Joseph, as well as the angels that proclaimed his birth. Later, he was ministered to by angels as he prepared for his ministry in the wilderness.

Proclaimed among Gentiles – although his ministry prior to the events of Passiontide was primarily to the lost sheep of Israel, Jesus did meet and impact the lives of many gentiles. From Peter’s vision that took him to the house of Cornelius, where Cornelius’ whole household became converts, on through Paul’s missionary journeys, the Gospel was increasingly proclaimed among Gentiles. This caused considerable debate in the Early Church, primarily in regard to what aspects of the Mosaic Law should apply to Gentile converts. The answer, as was increasingly understood, was none, beyond the greatest commandment – to love God with all you are and love your neighbour as yourself.

Believed in throughout the world – Christianity began as a Second Temple Judaic movement in the 1st century in the Roman province of Judea, from where it spread throughout and beyond the Roman Empire. Christian missionary activity spread "the Christian Way" and slowly created early centres of Christianity with Gentile adherents in the predominantly Greek-speaking eastern half of the Roman Empire, and then throughout the Hellenistic world and beyond the Roman Empire in Assyria, Mesopotamia, Armenia, Georgia and Persia. Christianity is now the largest religion globally, with over 2.3 billion followers and a significant presence in nearly every country.

Taken up in glory – Jesus ascended to be with God the Father for ever but, by doing so, took his experience of humanity into the Godhead, indeed took humanity itself into the Godhead, meaning that he intercedes at God’s right hand on our behalf continually and that, as the first-fruits of the resurrection from the dead, he is the pioneer of our faith who has gone before us into the presence of God to open the way to God that we can subsequently also follow. He descended to be with us and he ascended that we might be with him.

The mystery of faith is the mystery of God with us, one with us that we might one with him. We state the mystery of faith in the acclamation we make in the Eucharist. Mysteries are not to be explained, instead they are to be experienced. That is what happens when we take bread and wine and thereby take Jesus into our lives. This how we become one with him. This is how the incarnation brings Jesus to us and the resurrection, ascension and Eucharist bring us to Jesus. Amen.

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Bruce Cockburn - Mystery.

A model prayer – beautiful, balanced and brief

The sermon I've been sharing today at St Andrew’s and Holy Cross Basildon and St Peter’s Nevendon is adapted from Discovering Prayer by Andrew Knowles, published by Lion Publishing:

When the disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray, he responded with a model prayer – beautiful, balanced and brief (Luke 11: 1-13). It has come to be known as the Lord’s Prayer. In his book ‘Discovering Prayer’, Andrew Knowles, a former Canon Theologian of Chelmsford Cathedral, simply and succinctly takes us through the different sections of this prayer for life.

We begin with God - Jesus reminds us to whom we’re talking. We’re coming to Almighty God who is also our Father. We aren’t phoning through a big order to a supermarket store which sells everything. Nor are we practising some weird and wonderful thought-process guaranteed to release psychic powers. We’re coming simply, humbly into the presence of our Creator, having received the invitation to do so from Jesus himself.

It’s good to remember that God is ‘our Father’. We belong to a great, trans-national, cross-cultural family, some of whom have already died and some of whom are yet to be born. Wherever we are around the world, and at whatever point in time we live, we own God as our Father and Jesus as our Lord. So when we pray this prayer, we’re sharing with our Christian brothers and sisters, across every division of colour and class, of politics and economics, of time and eternity.

We say ‘yes to God’ - Not only do we begin with God, we also ask that all he wants to do in our lives and in our world may come about. We ask that all he wants to do in our lives and in our world may come about. We ask that men and women everywhere may realise who he is and humble themselves before him.

We ask that God’s kingdom may come - The kingdom of God exists wherever God is King. It isn’t located on a map, nor do we enter it by holding a passport! The exciting truth is that God is already King of millions of lives. He is already acknowledged as Lord in a vast number of situations. We see the effects of his rule when hate is turned to love, when bitterness is dismantled by forgiveness, when disease is overwhelmed by health, and when war gives way to peace.

But we must remember that God is a father and not a dictator. For this reason his kingdom can only come when individual people invite him into their lives and submit themselves to the changes he wants to make.

This phrase, ‘May your kingdom come’, more than any other in the Lord’s Prayer, has a tendency to rebound on the user. If we really want God’s kingdom to come, then we must open ourselves and our circumstances to God, whatever the cost.

And if we’re looking for the kind of changes in the world that only God can make, we may find that he promptly enlists us in his service! We may find ourselves doing anything from bathing an invalid to mailing a cheque for famine relief. We may even find ourselves called to lob in our whole life as the only fitting contribution we can make to the service of God’s kingdom in a particular situation.

We bring our needs to God - In the second half of the Lord’s Prayer we ask God to meet our basic human needs. We ask him for enough to live on, for forgiveness, and for protection.

‘Give us day by day the food we need’ has a strong echo of the days when the Israelites were supplied with manna in the desert. Every day they had ‘enough’, and the Lord’s Prayer asks that we may have the same experience of god’s faithful provision each day as it comes. In an age when many people are run raged by their desire for money and possessions, this is a wonderful promise from Jesus. All the same, we should notice that it is everything we need that God will provide, and not everything we want.

‘Forgive us our sins, for we forgive everyone who does us wrong.’ This reminds us that our standard of living is more than a roof over our head, food on the table and a shirt on our back. Our well-being is intimately tied up with personal relationships – within ourselves, between ourselves, and between ourselves and God. Our recurring need here is for forgiveness. We hurt people by our self-centredness, our anger and our prejudice. We hurt God by going our own way in defiance of his loving law, wilfully defiling all that he intended life in this world to be.

So we ask for forgiveness. We feel the need and we say the words. But it’s no easy matter for God to forgive us. It cost him the life of his only Son to show the reality and consequence of sin. As he died on the cross, Jesus took on himself the results of all our sin. This is the only way by which we can be forgiven and restored to spiritual life. This is the Christian Good News: that life with God – something we can never earn and certainly don’t deserve – is his free gift to us through the death of Jesus. Our sins are not only forgiven but forgotten, and if we mention them to God again he’ll wonder what we’re talking about.

But as we ask God to forgive us, we must check if there is anyone who in turn needs our forgiveness. How do we feel about our worst enemy? Is there any member of the family, or anybody at work, against whom we’re nursing anger, bitterness or resentment? Only as we forgive others can we enter fully into the wonderful experience of God’s forgiveness of us. This is not just a nice idea. It’s a condition for our own forgiveness. Elsewhere Jesus warns that if we don’t forgive, then we in turn shall not be forgiven. This teaching alone, if we take it seriously, will completely change our lives.

‘And do not bring us to hard testing.’ Sometimes this is translated, ‘Lead us not into temptation,’ and we may well wonder when, why and how God could possibly want us to be tempted. And we would be right – he doesn’t. But while God will never lure us into evil, he will sometimes allow us to be tested. Just as we will put ourselves through all kinds of discomfort to get fit or lose weight, so God will allow pressure on us to strengthen our faith or increase our insight.

In the face of this testing, Jesus includes a very human plea that God won’t go over the top in his efforts to refine us. It is encouraging to hear Jesus say this, because he was tempted over a longer period and with greater intensity than we’ll ever know. Enticed by Satan, or daunted by God, we often given in at a very early stage. Our Christian integrity disintegrates and snatches at hypocrisy to cover our shame. But while we often capitulate, Jesus never did so.

The Lord’s Prayer recognises that temptation is an integral part of our daily life. We’ll never lose it, so we must learn to use it. If we can use the force of temptations to push us closer to the Lord, rather than sweeping us away from him, then we’ll be harnessing their power for our benefit.

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Marvin Gaye - The Lord's Prayer.

God so loved that he gave

Here's the Stewardship sermon based on John 3. 16 – 21 that I shared this morning at St Andrew’s Wickford:

God so loved - love is from God because God is love; pure love, the essence of all that love is and can be. Love that is patient, kind, not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. Love that does not insist on its own way; is not irritable or resentful, does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. Love that bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love that never ends.

God so loved the world - the heavens and the earth that God created in the beginning, the heavens which declare the glory of God and the sky that displays what his hands have made, humankind that God created in his own image. God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. God so loved he world that he created in the beginning.

God so loved the world that he gave – true love involves giving; in fact, true love is giving. Our love is often less than this. We speak of those we love as being everything we need or as soul mates who complete us, but rarely talk in terms of giving all we have to others. Yet that is the nature of God’s love, he gives all he has to us.

God so loved the world that he gave his only Son – the Father gives us his Son and the Son gives his life, his whole life, even unto death. Yet, because Father, Son and Holy Spirit are one God, this is a way of saying that what God gives to us is himself, everything he has and is. 

God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life – God gives himself to us in order that we can become part of him and enter the very life of God himself. Jesus said he came that we might have life and have it to the full. Eternal life is the life of love that the Father, Son and Holy Spirit share within the Godhead and in to which we are called to come and share by the ever-giving love that God the Father shows to us through God the Son.

God’s love has been revealed among us in this way, that God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. We live in the light of this love which reveals all that we can potentially be and become as human beings. As his love resulted in his giving himself to us and for us, so our response to him should be the same.

Stewardship month is an annual reminder to us that that is so when it comes to the contribution we make as Christian disciples; when it comes to the money we give back to God, the talents we use in his service, the community contribution we make and the environmentally-friendly actions we take.

Our Parish needs a whole series of small contributions at present as we need new volunteers across the whole range of our ministry. We are looking for a new PCC Treasurer, members of our District Church Councils (the DCCs) and Parochial Church Council (our PCC). We would value new members of our choir and people who could work with children when they come to our services. We always value help with administration, pastoral visiting, prayer ministry and with our publicity (website, social media etc). The packs that you have been given include more information about Stewardship and response forms to help you think more about the ways you give currently and what might be possible in the future. The packs include a form you can fill in to offer your help.

When it comes to our financial giving, we have faced significant challenges as for a long time we haven’t been able to give the Diocese the Parish Share that is needed to cover the cost of clergy and the other support that the Diocese provides. We are gradually increasing the amount we give to the Diocese for our support year-on—year. However, we need to maintain and improve that situation this year, so ask that you reconsider your giving at this time and use Stewardship Month to decide what you can contribute to St Andrew’s and our Parish in future. There are forms in the Pack which can be used if you want to start giving or if you are able to change what you are giving.

God so loved the world that he gave – true love involves giving; in fact, true love is giving. As his love resulted in his giving himself to us and for us, so our response to him should be the same. May we use the opportunity that Stewardship month provides to reflect together on the contribution we make as Christian disciples; through the money we give back to God, the talents we use in his service, the community contribution we make and the environmentally-friendly actions we take. Amen.

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Extreme - Everything Under The Sun: Rise 'N Shine / Am I Ever Gonna Change / Who Cares?

The Trinity’s eternal commitment to be with us

Photographs below from Stations of the Cross, Walk of Witness and At the Foot of the Cross, plus my reflection for the At the Foot of the Cross service:

The cross first made an impact in my life when I was about 7 or 8 years of age. I remember attending a Holiday Bible Club at the church we attended where I heard the story of the crucifixion and realised that Jesus died for me. That night I knelt by my bed before going to sleep and asked Jesus into my life. It was the realisation that Jesus had been willing to die to save me that led me to pray that prayer.

Later, as an under-confident teenager I came to think and feel that I was not good enough for God because I was self-critical and felt that I was inadequate in many respects. One evening I talked about these feeling to a leader at the Church Youth Club that I was then attending. He pointed me to Romans 5. 8 which says “God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us”. His argument was that the cross reveals that we are loved as we are. We don’t need to change in order to be loved by God. Any change that may be necessary will come once we realise that we are loved by God and will come about because of gratitude for that love. As a result, I gradually became more confident in myself because I understood deep down that I was fully loved by God. Again, it was Christ’s death of the cross that brought me to that realisation.

As my understanding of the cross grew, I began to be deeply moved in the way the hymn writer William Walsham How describes in ‘It is a thing most wonderful’ when he writes:

I sometimes think about the cross,
and shut my eyes, and try to see
the cruel nails and crown of thorns,
and Jesus crucified for me.

I continue to find it amazing and deeply moving that Jesus was prepared to suffer and die for my sake. A song about the cross that has always moved me since I first heard it is ‘How could you say no’ by Julie Miller:

Thorns on his head spear in his side
Yet it was a heartache that made him cry
He gave his life so you would understand
Is there any way you could say no to this man

If Christ himself were standing here
Face full of glory and eyes full of tears
And he held out his arms and his nail printed hands
Is there any way you could say no to this man

How could you look in his tear-stained eyes
Knowing it's you he's thinking of
Could you tell him you're not ready to give him your life
Could you say you don't think you need his love

Jesus is here with his arms open widе
You can see him with your heart if you'll stop looking with your eyes
Hе's left it up to you, he's done all that he can
Is there any way you could say no to this man

‘There was a cross in the heart of God before there was one planted on the green hill in Jerusalem. And now that the cross of wood has been taken down, the one in the heart of God abides, and it will remain so long as there is one sinful soul for whom to suffer.’

Finally, what I’ve realised most recently, through the time I spent at St Martin-in-the-Fields learning from the theology of their Vicar Sam Wells, is that the cross is Jesus’ ultimate demonstration of being with us. If there’s one word that sums up all four gospels, that word is ‘with.’ Jesus’ ministry, above all else, is about being with us, in pain and glory, in sorrow and in joy, in quiet and in conflict, in death and in life.

Jesus then faces true despair on the cross. He experiences the isolation that humankind has brought on itself, and in his case it’s even more ghastly: he’s isolated from God the Father, who seems to have forsaken him. He must choose between being with us and being with the Father. He chooses us. The Father meanwhile must choose between letting Jesus be with us or drawing Jesus back into the Trinity. Both are terrible choices, because they jeopardise the integrity of the Trinity: but there’s no way for God to continue to be God without the commitment to be with costing not less than everything. This then is what is taking place on Good Friday: we behold Jesus, embodying the Trinity’s eternal commitment to be with us, becoming isolated from the Father. Agony of agony: a rupture in the Trinity; a cross in the heart of God.

Is our alienation from God really so profound that it pushes God to such lengths to reverse and heal it? We don’t want to believe it. But here it is, in front of our eyes. That’s what the cross is – our cowardice and cruelty confronted by God’s wondrous love. Is being with us forever really worth God going to such lengths to secure? Now that is, perhaps, the most awesome question of all. It takes us to the heart of God’s identity, and the heart of our own. Can we really believe God thought we were worth it? Are our paltry lives worth the Trinity setting aside the essence of its identity in order that we might be with God and incorporated into God’s life forever?

Jesus’ cry is one of agony that to reach us he had, for a moment, to let go of his Father. What is our cry? Our cry is one of grief, that we were not with him. It’s a cry of astonishment, that he was, despite everything, still with us. And it’s a cry of conviction and commitment, that we will be with him henceforth, and forevermore.

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Julie Miller - How Could You Say No?