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).

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

U2 - Until The End Of The World.

Proverbs that persuade or tease into Wisdom

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

The young King Solomon may have been around 20 when he became King and asked for wisdom instead of long life, riches, or the death of his enemies (1 Kings 2.10-12, 3.3-14). God was pleased with Solomon's request and personally answered his prayer. This has often been understood as being because Solomon did not ask for self-serving rewards.

1 Kings 4. 32-34 tells us that: “God gave Solomon wisdom—the deepest of understanding and the largest of hearts. There was nothing beyond him, nothing he couldn't handle. Solomon's wisdom outclassed the vaunted wisdom of wise men of the East, outshone the famous wisdom of Egypt. He was wiser than anyone—wiser than Ethan the Ezrahite, wiser than Heman, wiser than Calcol and Darda the sons of Mahol. He became famous among all the surrounding nations. He created 3,000 proverbs; his songs added up to 1,005. He knew all about plants, from the huge cedar that grows in Lebanon to the tiny hyssop that grows in the cracks of a wall. He understood everything about animals and birds, reptiles and fish. Sent by kings from all over the earth who had heard of his reputation, people came from far and near to listen to the wisdom of Solomon.”

Solomon’s reputation rested not only on his own brilliance but also his patronage of learning and the arts. The Queen of Sheba, who visited him because of his reputation for wisdom (1 Kings 10), was just one of a stream of visitors who poured into Israel to hear him and put him to the test, and from whom he learned as well. He and his wise men culled the wisdom of the east, but incorporated nothing that was not in line with God’s standards.

Solomon is credited in the Bible with writing an entire book of Proverbs based on the wisdom that God gave him through his experience of life. The book of Proverbs begins by setting out what wisdom is for:

“These are the wise sayings of Solomon,
David's son, Israel's king—
Written down so we'll know how to live well and right,
to understand what life means and where it's going;
A manual for living,
for learning what's right and just and fair;
To teach the inexperienced the ropes
and give our young people a grasp on reality.
There's something here also for seasoned men and women,
still a thing or two for the experienced to learn—
Fresh wisdom to probe and penetrate,
the rhymes and reasons of wise men and women.”

Wisdom, in the Old Testament, tends to be the voice of reflection and experience, rather than of bare command or preaching. Through Wisdom, we are persuaded, even teased, into seeing a connection between God’s order in the world and his orders to human beings. That includes the absurdity or foolishness of going against the grain of God’s creation.

Proverbs gives us the key to wisdom. “Start with God,” it says, “the first step in learning is bowing down to God; only fools thumb their noses at such wisdom and learning.” Or in other translations, “the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom.”

The ‘fear of God’ is the starting point of Proverbs and the pivot of all Wisdom literature in the Bible. Secular philosophy tends to measure everything by human beings, and comes to doubt whether wisdom is to be found at all. But the Old Testament with this motto – ‘the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom’ – turns the world the right way up, with God at its head, his wisdom the creative and ordering principle that runs through every part; and human beings, disciplined and taught by that wisdom, finding life and fulfilment in his perfect will. Knowledge in its full sense is a relationship with God, dependent or revelation or wisdom and inseparable from character or discipline.

So how can be we best use the proverbs and wisdom that we are given in the Bible? It is important to bear in mind that proverbs are by nature generalisations. They state what is generally true, not invariably true. The writers do not deny that there are exceptions. But exceptions are not within the scope of proverbial sayings. For instance, Proverbs states that those who live by God’s standards will prosper in the world. This is generally the truth (and we have statistical evidence today about the health and general well-being of churchgoers to back this up). But it is not an ‘unconditional’ promise, as the example of Job and the life of Jesus clearly show us.

So, these proverbs are not a set of commands or laws that must be followed to the letter in order that we benefit from wisdom. Instead, they are given to persuade us or tease us into seeing a connection between God’s order in the world and his orders to human beings. The style of the proverbs is to provoke thought, getting under the skin by thrusts of wit, paradox, common sense, and teasing symbolism. They are a bit like the parables of Jesus, something to make us think about life rather than being a set of clear and simple instructions to follow.

As a result, it is good to digest or study them a few saying at a time, weighing one saying against another and getting an idea of the general teaching on a particular topic. One resource that I have which helps in doing this is a calendar which has a different proverb for each day together with a very brief relational reflection on that day’s proverb.

That brings me on to another aspect of Solomon’s proverbs, which is that they are for the whole of life. There is no separation of the public and private or the sacred and the secular when it comes to the proverbs and wisdom in the Bible. Proverbs applies the principles of God’s teaching to: relationships, home, work, justice, decisions, attitudes, reactions, everything we do and say and think.

Proverbs 1. 20-21 says:

“Wisdom goes out in the street and shouts.
At the town centre she makes her speech.
In the middle of the traffic she takes her stand.
At the busiest corner she calls out.”

This open proclamation, made above the noise of the market, shows that the offer of wisdom is for the person in the street, it is for the business of living. So, for the Bible’s wisdom to really make sense we have to take and use it in everyday life; to apply to our Monday to Saturday lives rather than keeping it bottled up on Sundays alone. As Amy Carmichael prayed, “Holy Spirit, think through me till your ideas are my ideas.”

(Use made of material from The Lion Handbook to the Bible)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NEEDTOBREATHE - What I'm Here For.

An upside-down kingdom

Here's the sermon that I shared at St Margaret’s Bowers Gifford this morning:

At my first training weekend as a curate the then Bishop of Barking, David Hawkins, performed a handstand to demonstrate the way in which Jesus, through his teaching in the beatitudes (Luke 6: 20-26), turns our understanding of life upside down. His action turned our expectations of Bishops and their behaviour upside-down at the same time as it perfectly illustrated his point.

G. K. Chesterton used a similar image in writing about St Francis of Assisi: “[Saint] Francis, at the time … when he disappeared into the prison or the dark cavern, underwent a reversal of a certain psychological kind … The man who went into the cave was not the man who came out again … He looked at the world as differently from other men as if he had come out of that dark hole walking on his hands … If a man saw the world hanging upside down, with all the trees and towers hanging head downwards as in a pool, one effect would be to emphasise the idea of dependence … It would make vivid the Scriptural text which says that God has hanged the world upon nothing.”

In what ways do these images and Jesus’ teaching in the beatitudes turn our understanding of life upside down? Jesus’ radical heartbeat can be sensed in every word of the Sermon on the Mount. The core of the sermon is a call for God’s people to be entirely different. Some of the greatest examples of the call to be different are found in the Beatitudes.

The Beatitudes give us a sense of the radical kingdom lifestyle that Jesus calls us to. It is as if Jesus has crept into the window display of life and changed the price tags. It is all upside down. In a world where ‘success’ and ‘self-sufficiency’ are applauded, and ‘the beautiful people’ are ambitious, accomplished and wealthy, Jesus teaches: “Blessed are you who are poor.” Our culture encourages us to discard guilt and the sorrow that accompanies pangs of conscience. Happiness is everything, entertainment is king but Jesus teaches: “Blessed are you who weep now.”

Donald Kraybill writing about this upside down kingdom says: “Jesus startles us … good guys turn out to be bad guys. Those we expect to receive the reward get a spanking instead. Those who think they are headed for heaven land in hell. Paradox, irony and surprise permeate the teachings of Jesus. They flip our expectations upside down. The least are the greatest. The immoral receive forgiveness and blessing. Adults become like children. The religious miss the heavenly banquet. The pious receive curses. Things aren’t like we think they should be. We’re baffled and perplexed. Amazed we step back. Should we laugh or should we cry? Again and again, turning our world upside down, the kingdom surprises us.”

It is the humble poor who know their need of God and those who have nothing who know they need everything. So, we should pray for those moments when we and others experience poverty, hunger and sadness, as they are moments when we are more likely to turn our faces to God looking for salvation. We need to pray for the opening of doors in us and others that gain and comfort have locked tight.

The Gospel announcement, our salvation, is truly comprehensive, is truly for all, because it is offered to losers, by circumstance or choice. The poor have no means of becoming rich but the rich have within themselves the possibility of becoming poor. There is nothing that we don’t have that will bar our entry to this upside-down kingdom and so we can pray to be rid of what we do have that God’s kingdom may truly come to all. In this way, as the Beatitudes state, our lives are turned upside down and we are blessed with poverty, with grief, with meekness, with hunger, with mercy, with purity, with peacemaking, and with persecution (Gerard Kelly, Humanifesto).

As opposed to the survival of the fittest or looking after No. 1, the kingdom of God, as it is described in the Beatitudes, is a place of happiness for those who know they are spiritually poor, a place of comfort for those who mourn, a place of receptivity for those who are humble, a place of satisfaction for those whose greatest desire is to do what God requires, a place of mercy for those who are merciful, a place in which God is seen by the pure in heart, a place in which those who work for peace are called God’s children, and a place which belongs to those who are persecuted because they do what God requires. That is what those, like St Francis, that we call saints came to realise. It is what we must seek through prayer as we too respond to our calling to be saints.

May God forgive our attempts to be loved, our pride, our pleasure-seeking and our leisure-seeking and instead turn our lives upside down and bless us with poverty, with grief, with meekness, with hunger, with mercy, with purity, with peacemaking, with persecution and with his upside down kingdom. Amen.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For All The Saints.

Quiet Day - Lancelot Andrewes

On Saturday we held a Quiet Day that enabled those present to discover the influence and example of Lancelot Andrewes, whose family lived in Rawreth and who helped define Anglican doctrine, translate the Bible, and shape the liturgy. The day was co-led by Revd Steve Lissenden and held at St Nicholas Rawreth.

Lancelot Andrewes (1555 – 25 September 1626) was an English bishop and scholar, who held high positions in the Church of England during the reigns of Queen Elizabeth I and King James I. During the latter's reign, Andrewes served successively as Bishop of Chichester, Ely and Winchester and oversaw the translation of the Authorized Version (or King James Version) of the Bible. In the Church of England he is commemorated on 25 September with a Lesser Festival.

Andrewes' family lived at Chichester Hall, now in the Parish of Rawreth. Once a year Andrewes would spend a month with his parents, and during this vacation, he would find a master from whom he would learn a language of which he had no previous knowledge. In this way, after a few years, he acquired most of the modern languages of Europe.

Andrewes was a towering figure in the formative years of the Church of England. Averse to the puritanical spirit of the age, he helped to create a distinctive Anglican theology, moderate in outlook and catholic in tone. He believed that theology should be built on sound learning, he held a high doctrine of the Eucharist and he emphasised dignity and order in worship. His influence defines Anglicanism to this day.

His best-known work is the Manual of Private Devotions, edited by Alexander Whyte (1900), which has widespread appeal. Andrewes's other works occupy eight volumes in the Library of Anglo-Catholic Theology (1841–1854). Ninety-six of his sermons were published in 1631 by command of King Charles I. The Incarnation was to him an essential dogma and he preached many significant sermons on the Nativity, the best known of which was used by T.S. Eliot for his poem 'The Journey of the Magi'.

We reflected on his prayers through Practising Prayer with Lancelot Andrewes, a seven-day devotional by Nicola Eggertsen, and his writings through sermon extracts on the theme of the incarnation. The current owners of Chichester Hall loaned a copy of the book of Andrewes' sermons that King Charles I had published after Andrewes' death.

During the day, I compiled the following poem, based on his Ninth Sermon of the Nativity, preached upon Christmas Day, before King James, at Whitehall, on Sunday, the Twenty-fifth of December, A. D. MDCXIV’ (1614):

Incarnation

The virgin shall conceive and bear a son
and she shall call his name Immanuel.
If the child be 'Immanuel, God with us',
then, without this child, we be without God.
If it be not Immanuel, then it will be Immanu-Hell.
Without him this we are and this our share will be.
Yet, if we know him, and God by him, we need no
more. He is Immanu-all, he is with us and
we from him never can be parted. All that we desire
is to be with him, with God and he with us.
With him all is well, for he is all in all.

For more on the King James Bible, see the film I helped script for James Payne's Great Books Explained series. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thomas Tallis - If Ye Love Me.

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.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marvin Gaye - The Lord's Prayer.

Hope: The light of the promised future that is to come

Here's the reflection that I shared during Reflective Evening Prayer this evening at St Mary's Runwell. 
The readings were Lamentations 3:19-33 and 'Hope' is the thing with feathers by Emily Dickinson.

Disasters are frequent occurrences, “some natural, many more due to man’s ham-fisted neglect of the planet or our inability to get by without recourse to violence.” “The result is always the need for a new start, and how we respond and rebuild colours an uncertain future more than ever. Yet, for all the carnage and chaos that catastrophes bring, an odd truth is apparent: disasters do give us the chance to shape things differently.”

As a result, as Terry Eagleton writes in Hope without Optimism, “the most authentic hope is whatever can be salvaged, stripped of guarantees from a general dissolution.” It is whatever survives a general ruin. This is where we find the writer of Lamentations; bowed down with the reality of exile, yet trusting that it is in the nature of God to bring a new beginning from this disastrous affliction which is “wormwood and gall” to him. Similarly, Emily Dickinson claims that, hope is heard most sweetly in the Gale, “the chillest land” and “on the strangest Sea”.

Hope, Eagleton writes, “is to be found in the unfinished nature of the actual, discernible as a hollow at its heart.” “Potentiality is what articulates the present with the future, and thus lays down the material infrastructure of hope.” Hope is about a vision for a future that is different from the present; one which therefore requires imagination and vision. For Christians that vision is of the kingdom of God; which has begun to be realised but is still to come in its full reality.

As a result, in Theology of Hope Jürgen Moltmann argues that “Those who hope in Christ can no longer put up with reality as it is, but begin to suffer under it, to contradict it. Peace with God means conflict with the world, for the goad of the promised future stabs inexorably into the flesh of every unfulfilled present. If we had before our eyes only what we see, then we should cheerfully or reluctantly reconcile ourselves with things as they happen to be. That we do not reconcile ourselves, that there is no pleasant harmony between us and reality, is due to our unquenchable hope. This hope keeps man unreconciled, until the great day of the fulfilment of all the promises of God.

The Church, then, is intended to be “the source of continual new impulses towards the realization of righteousness, freedom and humanity here in the light of the promised future that is to come.” Our hope should “provide inexhaustible resources for the creative, inventive imagination of love.” It should constantly provoke and produce thinking of an anticipatory kind in love to humanity and the world, “in order to give shape to the newly dawning possibilities in the light of the promised future, in order as far as possible to create here the best that is possible, because what is promised is within the bounds of possibility.” “Thus it will constantly arouse the ‘passion for the possible’, inventiveness and elasticity in self-transformation, in breaking with the old and coming to terms with the new.” The Christian hope should always have “a revolutionary effect in this sense on the intellectual history of the society affected by it.”

“Wherever that happens, Christianity embraces its true nature and becomes a witness of the future of Christ.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Van Morrison - These Are The Days.

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.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Julie Miller - How Could You Say No?