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Doubting Thomas

Given by: 

David Teall

Date given: 

11th April, 2010

Book: 

John

Chapter: 

20

David Teall I would like to talk to you this morning about Doubting Thomas, as he is usually known, but before I do so I would like to tell you about a walk Pat and I went on back in the 1980s when we lived in East Sussex.

It was on a bright, sunny November day and we were walking up a north-facing ridge on the South Downs in the shade.  There was a strong Northerly wind blowing and it was bitterly cold but the air was crystal-clear and we could see for miles.

As we climbed higher and higher the view opened out below us.  To the east I could see a tractor ploughing a large field that seemed to stretch for miles.   Not so many years earlier that much land would have needed dozens of horses to plough it, each with a man to guide it.  Now, one man on a tractor could do the job in a fraction of the time it would have taken them.   I marvelled at the power man now had at his disposal.

To the north I could see a large reservoir which we sometimes walked around so we knew well.  It provided the water for nearby Brighton.  It had an earth dam that blended so well into the landscape that it was hard to tell that it was not a natural lake.   I marvelled at the ingenuity of man and his ability to tame Mother Nature.

Snaking between the field and the reservoir was a train making its way to Brighton.   I marvelled at the wonders of science that had come together to enable that train to make its journey:  mining the metal to make it, drilling for the oil to drive it, manufacturing the plastics, cloth, lights and cables to fit it out.  Man really is very clever, I thought.

With these thoughts in my mind we walked on and in due course we made it to the top of the ridge.  Suddenly we were out of the shade and the full strength of the sun’s warmth hit me in face.  Set against its massive power the power of tractor now seemed puny.

A couple more steps and a magnificent view of the English Channel opened up stretching all the way from Dungeness in the East to Selsey Bill in the West.  The reservoir now seemed very, very small.

Looking down I could see layer upon layer of flint and chalk stacked one upon another to form the cliff, the edge of which we were now standing on.  The marvels of the train paled into insignificance.

As I contemplated the scene before me my mind suddenly became as clear as the air around me.  I could see everything.  It all made sense.  To describe to you what I mean by that in the same narrative style that I have used to describe my walk is just not possible, so I shall resort to a favourite technique of the authors of much of the Bible when faced with similar difficulties and switch seamlessly into a more poetic style.

I could see everything.  It all made sense.  God, the creator of all I surveyed was in his heaven.  Jesus, his only son, whom I had invited into my life less than ten years before, was by my side and I felt full of the Holy Spirit.  I had no doubts at all.   I saw, I felt, I understood.  It was a true moment of revelation.

I suspect that most of you here will have experienced similar moments of revelation in your lives.  If you have, take yourself back to the time and place when one of them occurred.
Try, if you can, to recreate what you saw, what you felt, what you witnessed and what you understood.  Hold that memory for a few moments if you can, but if you can’t, don’t worry, stay awhile with me on the top of the Sussex Downs.

 

It is only in the Gospel of St John that we hear any detail about Thomas.  He appears in Matthew, Mark, Luke and Acts merely as a name on a list of disciples.

His first appearance in John is in Chapter 11.  Jesus and the disciples are on the other side of the Jordan in the place where John the Baptist used to baptise.  They receive a message that Lazarus is ill and, after two days, Jesus announces his intention to go once more to Judea to see him.  The disciples are concerned that Jesus will be stoned again, but when Jesus insists on making the journey it is Thomas who says:  ‘Let us also go, that we may die with him.’  From this we must conclude that Thomas is both brave and intensely loyal to Jesus.

The next appearance of Thomas is during John’s long account of the Last Supper:

Jesus says:   “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling-places and you know the way to the place where I am going.”

Thomas replies:   “Lord, we do not know where you are going.  How can we know the way?”

Thomas was obviously listening intently to what Jesus was saying and asked his question, not because he doubted what Jesus was saying but to seek further information.

His well-placed question gave rise to one of the great ‘I am’ statements from the Gospel of John:

Jesus said to Thomas:  “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also.”

And so, as we think again about our Gospel this morning, let us do so with as full a picture as possible of the central character, Thomas.  He was a brave man.  A loyal follower of Jesus prepared to die with him.  He thought hard about the lessons Jesus taught him and his fellow disciples and was not afraid to speak up when he wanted to know more.

As far as we know Thomas was with the other disciples early on the third day when Mary Magdalene came to see them and announced “I have seen the Lord.”  They must all have spent the whole day trying to make sense of this seemingly-impossible statement.  They knew for certain that Jesus had been crucified yet here was Mary claiming to have seen him some 30 hours or more after he was taken down from the cross and laid in a borrowed tomb.  I wonder what went through their minds throughout that day:   “She’s just imagining it” they must have thought.  “She’s hysterical” they might have surmised.

For some reason, we are not told what, Thomas was not present when Jesus appeared to the remaining disciples during the evening of the same day.  For them the difficult period of doubt was soon over.  The text tells us:  Jesus came and stood among them and said: “Peace be with you.”  After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side.

 

For Thomas it was not so easy.  At some time after the appearance of Jesus to them the other disciples told Thomas: “We have seen the Lord.”  First Mary, then the rest of the Disciples, but still not him.  That must have been hard to take.  He was used to asking Jesus questions when he did not understand something but, of course, that option was not open to him.  All the others claimed to have seen Jesus, but it hadn’t happened for him.  No wonder he had doubts.  The text tells us that it was a week before Jesus appeared again and Thomas was finally put out of his agony.  What a long, lonely week that must have been for him.  What depths of despair he must have reached.

I think many of us here this morning will readily empathise with the predicament Thomas found himself in.  I certainly do.  There are times on our journey of faith when we can find it very hard to believe what our fellow Christians seem to be able to accept without question or, indeed, what we ourselves accepted without difficulty only a week before.  At such times we too suffer the despair and loneliness that Thomas suffered that week.  Doubt weighs heavily on the human soul.

Fortunately for us, by God’s grace, there is a solution to this problem, and it is Thomas who points our way to it.  When the other disciples told him that they had ‘seen the Lord’ he said:  Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.

This is sometimes portrayed as Thomas demanding physical proof, but that makes no sense to me.  Jesus was standing in front of him speaking.  He said: “Peace be with you.”  Mary had been able to recognise Jesus by his voice alone when he spoke but one word to her:  her name.

I believe that what Thomas was doing was thinking back to a time when he was sure of what was happening:  the crucifixion.  That was real.  That was certain.  That was a shocking and profound event the memory of which would stay with him for ever.  The mark of the nails linked what he found hard to believe on that day to the certainty of the crucifixion nine days earlier.  Through that link, the certainty of the crucifixion was able to sweep away the doubt of the resurrection.

What a blesséd gift Thomas has given us through this example.  We too, when racked with doubt, can employ the same technique:  we can think back to a time when everything was clear.  For me, I go back in my mind to the South Downs and wait there for the Lord to join me once again.  “Where’ve you been?” he says when my eyes eventually clear.  “I’ve been waiting here all the time.”

Amen.

 

Words:  1,659

It is Finished

Given by: 

Rev Stephen Webster

Date given: 

Good Friday

Book: 

Luke

Chapter: 

None

 

In 63BC a Roman Senator called Rabirius went on trial for his life. He was accused of treason and the prosecution wanted him crucified.

 

A man called Cicero rose to speak in his defence.‘How’ he asked, ‘could the assembly even think of crucifixion?

 

To suggest such a cruel and disgusting penalty for a Roman citizen was unthinkable.’

 

‘The very word cross’ he said “should be far removed not only from the person of a Roman citizen but his thoughts, his eyes and his ears. For it is not only the actual occurrence of these things but the very mention of them, that is unworthy of a Roman citizen and a free man.”

 

Crucifixion. The execution of a man by first viciously whipping him, then stripping him naked and fixing him to a pole and beam hammering nails through his wrists and feet.

 

A punishment too shameful, too disgusting, too painful, too vile even to be mentioned back in civilized Rome. A punishment reserved for the worst of rebellious foreigners and slaves.

 

The crucified victim could take days to die left hanging in public the object of ridicule a warning for conquered peoples. To Jewish people the cross was disgusting a shameful reminder that they were a conquered people.

 

And for Romans? Well even the word cross was ‘unmentionable.’ Yet in the early 30s AD a movement began rapidly to spread in the Mediterranean world a movement based on the life and teachings of a Jewish rabbi.

 

Not unusual – except – these people made no effort to hide the fact showed no shame in proclaiming that their leader was a man the Romans had strung up on a cross to die like a common slave.

 

In fact most shockingly their earliest writings testified to their belief that this man who had suffered the most shameful of deaths was in very nature God.

 

God? The divine? Mixed up in blood and pain and agony? God? Left hanging for public scorn and ridicule? God on a cross? Were they mad?

 

 ‘Jesus sent me’ writes one of these first Christians in a letter, ‘to preach the good news not with wisdom and eloquence, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power.

 

For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God… We preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called… the power of God and the wisdom of God.’

 

The cross - says Paul - is good news. The cross - says Paul - is very power of God The cross - says Paul - which looks disgusting, shocking and foolish to so many – is God’s wisdom.

 

Therefore’ says Saint Paul in his first letter to the Corinthians, ‘I sought to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified.’

 

The Cross. A first century gallows. A vile place of execution. Yet a symbol we boldly place

in the middle of our churches and wear around our necks.

 

So why the cross? Why this most horrible of deaths for God’s Son? What possible wisdom or power is there that? Two Sundays ago I missed an extremely special event here in St Peter’s.

 

A friend of mine an agnostic and determined non-Church goer said to be it was one of the most profoundly moving and challenging occasions he’s ever been to.

 

If only I’d known what I was missing I’d have made every effort to be here. A Vietnamese woman called Kim Phúc  came to speak as part of the Literature Festival and to tell her life story. And hearing about her I looked up her story.

 

On June 8th 1972 a little 9 year old girl was playing in her village in Vietnam.

 

“Until that day,” she says, “I had never known fear. I had a happy childhood. The most pain I’d been in was probably from grazing my knee falling off a bike.”

 

But that day the South Vietnamese airforce allies of the United States in their war against Communist forces dropped bombs on Kim Phúc’s village.

 

She and her brothers and sisters ran down the dirt road out of the village to escape the bombs.

As they did so more bombs dropped bombs containing napalm.

 

Kim Phúc's clothing was soaked in napalm an oily gasoline gel.‘Water boils at 100’ says Kim,

‘Napalm burns at between 800 and 1200. It is the most terrible pain you can imagine.’

 

A photographer – Nick Ut captured her as she ran down the road screaming, having ripped off her clothes. His photograph became one of the most famous pictures of the 20th Century and won a Pullitzer prize.

 

Published all around the world it became a symbol of civilian suffering in the Vietnam war. Kim fainted with pain and Nick Ut managed to get her to a hospital. Her burns were so severe that hospital staff thought she had died and left her in the mortuary. But Kim lived and spent the next 14 months in hospital in agony from extensive 3rd degree burns bone exposed on her left arm her chin welded to her chest by scar tissue.

 

She underwent 17 painful operations before she could eventually return home and try to rebuild some kind of life. A little girl – playing in her village suddenly screaming in pain scarred and maimed a child caught up in a war between adults and nations. A story that repeats itself again and again around the world everyday. Where is justice? Surely someone should pay for what they did – dropping napalm on a child?

 

As a teenager Kim suffered deeply as she tried to come to terms with her injuries. Every where she went there was the famous picture of her running down the street. ‘Every day, every moment’ she says ‘I was miserable. I questioned myself, who caused this? I didn’t know who.

 

Yes there was a pilot who dropped the bomb, but I didn’t know him. And that killed me everyday. I couldn’t bear to see the picture. My life’ she says, ‘was like a cup of coffee. Very dark, full of bitterness, hatred and anger. I hated my life. I didn’t want to live.’ Where was justice?

 

There was another person the other side of the world who also couldn’t bear to see the picture of Kim. John Plummer had been in the US military in Vietnam. An operations officer he remembered very clearly relaying the order for the attack on Trang Bang Kim’s village remembered being pleased at the operation’s success. Until next day he picked up a newspaper and saw the picture. And realised the consequences of the order he had passed on.

 

It triggered in John a descent into guilt and depression. On returning to America he turned to alcohol. Had a string of failed relationships. And wherever he turned he seemed to be faced with that photograph in magazines – on television – in the news.

 

‘That photograph was burned into my heart. It  haunted me for over 20 years. A constant reminder as if I needed one that I had had a part in the bombing. I was responsible for her injuries. And those of how many others. And there was no way I’d ever be able to put right what I had done.’

 

On one side of the world Kim wounded and scarred bitter and looking for justice. On the other John depressed and filled with undying guilt.

 

But when Kim was 19 something changed. ‘I was trying so hard to be a good Buddhist,’ she said, ‘I prayed and prayed that God would take away my sadness but no answer came.’

 

Then one day she walked into a church. And she heard the message of Jesus who died on the cross.

 

‘Surely He took up our pain  and carried our sorrows’ wrote Isaiah, ‘He was pierced for our transgressions and the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him; by His wounds we are healed; for the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.’ ‘He carried our sorrows; on Him was the punishment that brought us peace; by His wounds we are healed.’

           

‘And as I heard about Jesus dying for me on the cross,’ says Kim, ‘I felt Him let me pour away all my darkness and bitterness at His feet and He poured in His peace and joy and compassion.

 

Jesus died on the cross to pay for all my anger and bitterness, to forgive me; and that made my heart heal. I confessed my sins to God, and He forgave.

 

That changed my life. He set me free from hatred. He forgave me – and so now I can forgive.’

 

‘ We preach Christ crucified,’ says Paul; ‘the power of God and the wisdom of God.’

 

Because on the cross He carries our pain; He bears our sorrows; He dies for our wrongdoing;

He forgives us and gives us the power to forgive.

 

Kim became a Christian in 1982 aged 19. She later emigrated to Canada and married setting up her Kim foundation working with people throughout the world whose lives had been scarred by conflict.

 

In 1996 she was invited to speak at a special service in Washington DC for US Vietnam veterans. As she spoke she explained that Jesus had died on the cross bearing all her sorrow and bitterness and anger. He had died to pay for her wrongdoing so she could be forgiven.

 

And that therefore she had no anger for those who dropped the bombs; She said, ‘if the pilot who dropped the bomb or if the man who gave the order was standing in front of me now I would want him to know that God has healed my heart. And I have already forgiven him.’

 

And a man in the congregation scribbled a note and asked for it to be taken to the speaker. "Kim, I am that man," wrote John Plummer. After the service John pushed his way through to stand in front of Kim Phúc.

 

"She saw my grief, my pain, my sorrow," says John "She held her arms to me and embraced me. All I could say was 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry' over and over again. And she said again and again, ‘It's all right. I forgive. I forgive.'"

 

John Plummer is today a Christian minister who from time to time works with Kim Phúc in her foundation.

 

So why the cross? What was achieved by Jesus’ death on a cross?

 

On one side of the world the victim the girl with terrible wounds and scars.

Where is justice? Who will pay?

 

On the other side of the world the offender who carries a burden of guilt for wrongs he can never put right. Who can ever take his burden away?

 

And then that day in 1996 when it’s as if together victim and offender stand at the foot of the cross.

 

And for Kim Phúc where is justice?  Who will pay the price for her terrible wounds? He – the one on the cross He took up our pain and carried our sorrows; by His wounds we are healed.

 

And for John Plummer: the guilt; the wrongs that can never be put right who will take away the burden?

 

He – the one on the cross He was pierced for our transgressions; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him;  for the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.’

 

Why the cross?

 

Forgive, forgive, forgive we might say to the victim. ‘Yes – but what about my pain, what about my suffering, I can’t just ignore it. What about justice? Where does it all go?’

 

You’re forgiven, you’re forgiven, you’re forgiven we might say to the offender. ‘Yes – but what about my guilt? This is serious. I can’t just ignore it. The burden is heavy. Where does it all go?’

 

And victim and offender they look up and see the man upon the cross. Shouldering all the burden of our bitterness and pain, and selfishness, and guilt – bearing all its weight.

 

And both can say that’s where it went. That’s who paid the price so that we can be free.

 

"Kim held out her arms. 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry' John said over and over again.  ‘It's all right. I forgive. I forgive.'"

 

‘Christ is our peace,’ writes Paul in Ephesians. ‘He has reconciled us to Himself in one body by the cross, through which He put to death our hostility.’

 

So what about you and me today? What burden of sadness, bitterness and sorrow; What burden of guilt, Do we want to lay today at the foot of the cross?

 

Jesus’ last words – recorded by John as He dies on the cross are, ‘It is finished!’

 

It is finished. It is enough. Whatever your burden – the cross of Jesus it is enough.

 

He chose to carry it there for you. He only longs that today you put it down.

 

Philip and the Ethiopian Eunuch

Given by: 

Dave Harding

Date given: 

7th February 2010 at 4.30 Praise

Book: 

Acts

Chapter: 

8

Notes from a Sermon based on Acts Chapter 8 vv26-40

Look at story from 2 aspects – from Philip’s perspective and then from the Eunuch’s perspective.

 

First of all Phillip  -  appointed in Acts Ch 6 as one of ‘the seven men of good standing’ to help in the daily distribution of bread to the followers, freeing up ‘the twelve’ to devote themselves to prayer and to serving the word’.

Philip is guided by the Holy Spirit to go to the road going down from Jerusalem to Gaza. He does not know what the Holy Spirit has in mind for him, but when he gets to the road, the Spirit tells him the next step to take. And this is a learning point for us all - the Spirit’s guidance often comes one step at a time.

And for Phillip’s next step the Spirit says, "Go up and join this chariot." That's all it says.

Not what for.

Nor who is in the chariot.

Just go up and join this chariot......

And from there the story unfolds as Phillip is given the opportunity to explain the scriptures to a total stranger, open the stranger’s eyes to their meaning, and then when the stranger believed, he then baptized him alongside the road and watched as he went on his way rejoicing.

It is a lovely story and I must be honest, until I was asked to say some words today, I’ve invariably read it from the point of view of Philip, the Christian believer. The teaching I have always taken from it is that when we wait on the Spirit, we may be called upon to be available to people just when they need us. This is not always an easy task, particularly in the secular workplaces and environments we spend most of our time. However, on the occasions when we are able to share our faith with someone, regrettably it is often an all-too-brief discussion or shared moment, and we sometimes never get to know how the other person’s particular story turns out. We just have to trust God and let them go – trust their future in His hands, not ours.

 

But let us now look at the story from the perspective of the other main character – the rich and exotic stranger on the road - the Ethiopian Eunuch. My image of this man is probably miles from the truth – but was formed many years ago when I read the Hamlyn Children’s Bible. The picture, similar to the one behind me,  appears to be of a rich man in a luxurious chariot travelling down a tree-lined country road. I suspect the illustrators who worked for Hamlyn may have taken some liberties with how this scene actually was - because this story is about a man with, to put it mildly at least, an interesting history and a challenging personal and physical situation! Noting that we are in a Church and it is a Sunday afternoon, I won’t go into the details of how a man becomes a Eunuch (although I’m sure Richard will tell you over a coffee if you wish!) – but I suspect it is likely that our man never asked to become a Eunuch, but  rather was deprived of his manhood in order to save his life and secure himself a career at the court of the Ethiopian Queen. However, the choice made, either by himself or by his parents, came at the cost of a terrible mutilation that must have caused him psychological agony as well as considerable physical pain. His pride and dignity were taken away from him and he was forced to live a life restricted by limits that were not God-given but placed on him by other human beings. And sadly, this is a story that is not unique to 2000 years ago - so many people in our world today are held back from living the life that God intends for them by racism or sexism or poverty or disability.

However, the thing we must learn from our Eunuch is that he didn't give up in despair. He made the best of the options that were available to him.

He was clearly an educated man because literacy of any kind was a minority skill in biblical days. We also know that he was a man in a position of trust and authority. In fact, he was the controller of the Queen's fabulous wealth. He was her right-hand man. He must have proved his worth through years of faithful, hard work.

Another thing we know about him is that he was a man on a spiritual quest. In fact, he was so interested in Judaism that he travelled from Africa to Jerusalem to worship in that city and find out more about the faith of the Jews.

However, the physical deformation that made him a Eunuch meant that he could never be a Jew. Old Testament Law decreed that he was not allowed into the temple. At best, he could only have been a “God-fearer”, who could go to synagogues, pray, and read scriptures, but nothing else.  

But our Eunuch was a genuine searcher, eager to find out more. He was humble enough to know when he needed to seek help. And although he was in sole charge of huge amounts of money on behalf of the Queen of Ethiopia, he was a beginner in terms of understanding the things of God. So he knew that he needed a spiritual adviser when he tried to read about the Hebrew prophets.

So our Eunuch had both an open heart and an open mind. When he heard the Good News from Philip, the news that made sense of the Hebrew scriptures, he responded immediately!

He was a man of decision and action, and he acted at once. He commanded his charioteer to stop beside the first water that he saw, and he requested Philip to baptize him without delay.

After his baptism, the reading tells us that Philip was snatched away by the Spirit and found himself somewhere else altogether. But however much this may have surprised Philip, it doesn't seem to have disturbed our Eunuch, who simply went on his way rejoicing - he too was now filled with the Holy Spirit.

Indeed, legend has it that he returned to Africa and founded the Ethiopian Coptic Church, the oldest continuing Christian Church in Africa. Thus, through the power of God, this man who was abused and enslaved by human beings was empowered to do great things for the Kingdom of God.

So I believe there are two different lessons to learn from this story, depending on the different characters in the passage

We can learn from Philip, the Christian believer. We must wait on the Lord, to hear His direction, so that we can be available to those who need us, without worrying about how our story will come out, but trust that the Holy Spirit will guide us. Phillip didn’t question God – he was prepared to follow God’s will whatever He wanted. God doesn’t tell Philip why He wants him to go south along the road to Gaza. Even so, he obeyed and was walking south in the heat of the day, just waiting for God’s next step. What would you have done if you were Philip?

And we can learn from the Ethiopian Eunuch. Whatever life or human oppression can do to bring us down, the power of God is available to set us free. Not only to set us free,  but to give us the gifts we need to make a difference in the world. This man went to Jerusalem seeking God, seeking hope, seeking something to fill the emptiness in his life that all his power and influence could not fill. And that hope came alive!

 

It is always good to finish a talk in Church with a personal challenge - and so what is the challenge I’ve found in this reading? Philip was the tool in God’s hand to accomplish His will on earth. And so are WE! How amazing would it be if we were to speak to someone next time we were in town, or in church, and to share our Faith with them. Then after doing this, for them to be so excited about our faith that they too wanted to share in it and came with us to the font to be baptized! Now that would be an amazing 4:30 praise service!

 

Where is your faith? / Who is this man?

Given by: 

Joyce Tompkins

Date given: 

7th February 2010 at 10.30 Parish Communion

Book: 

Revelation

Chapter: 

4

Communion (St Peter’s)

7th February 2010

 

Revelation 4 and Luke 8:22-25

 

INTRODUCTION:

This morning I want to ask two questions.

But before that, a look back fifty years to a Guide camp. I was still a student and was invited to assist at the camp and to give medical advice if required. 

The whole week had been extremely hot and the Thursday was a boiling hot day, so we had not done very much except try to keep in the shade. When bed time came, most of the girls were tired and, despite the heat, were soon asleep. All was calm ----then a sudden storm ---- flashes of lightening, claps of thunder and monsoon like rain. Everyone woke and there was a certain amount of fear, especially when the tents began to be flooded.

There was no need to be afraid because Captain had arranged a transfer to the barn, hot cocoa was provided by the farmer’s wife and all our fear subsided.

Imagine the panic if Captain had gone on sleeping and left us all to cope alone ---- but we were reassured because we knew we could trust her.

 

Luke 8: 22-25 The Disciples in a storm

It had been Jesus’ idea to go across the lake: - “Let’s go over to the other side of the lake”

All seemed calm as they set off--- Jesus even fell asleep, may be lulled by the gentle movement of the boat and the waves lapping against it.

 

Disciples were quite happy to let him sleep ---- they could manage, they were well used to handling boats (they were fishermen) --- there was no problem.

 

Suddenly ---- Everything changed!

“A squall came down on the lake, so that the boat was being swamped, and they were in great danger.”

Now they were not so bold --- not so sure that they could manage. They woke Jesus up, saying: -“Master, Master, we’re going to drown” or as Mark records the incident: -“Teacher, don’t you care if we drown”

 

Fear and panic took over ----- where was Jesus when they needed him?

How could he sleep when they were in such danger --- didn’t he know or worse still, didn’t he care?

 

Yes he did know and yes he did care. Jesus immediately took command of the situation: - “He got up and rebuked the wind and the raging waters; the storm subsided and all was calm”

All was calm --- you can almost feel the tension going --- the relief as fear subsided as Jesus took control.

 

But Jesus asked them an important question (the first of two questions in this passage)

“Where is your faith?”

Why the panic? Why could you not trust me? Why be afraid when I am in the boat with you?

 

??? !!! We can often be like those disciples.

When life is all plain sailing --- everything going well ----- so often we forget about Jesus and manage alone, relying on our own skills and abilities --- making our own plans ---- taking our own decisions..

We can manage ----- we can handle life.

Yes, we believe that Jesus is with us ---- and it’s good to have him on board ----- but ----- let him sleep

 

All is well until, suddenly, storms come ----- illness, bereavement, marriage breakdown, un-employment, money problems, rebellious teenagers.

Help! We feel swamped ------ going under – unable to cope --- in despair. Panic sets in.

 

That’s when we call out to Jesus, as the disciples did in the storm.  The wonderful thing is, he hears us.

 

He knows what we need because he has been with us all the time.

He is able to calm our fears and to bring us peace when we take our needs to him in prayer.

 

We can do this alone at any time or we can ask someone to pray with us or for us. In this service and every Sunday morning there is an opportunity to take a positive step ---- to share a burden with someone ----- there  are people in the chancel ready to pray  with anyone, either for their own needs or for someone they care about.

 

“Where is your faith? “Where is your faith?”

Jesus might ask that question of us today.

Are we in danger of letting our troubles drown us?

Are we afraid or sad, worried or despairing?

Jesus is saying: - I am with you ---- trust me --- I will keep you safe.

 

Second question.

Storm over, the disciples asked: -“Who is this man”

What kind of man can command the wind to cease and the waves to calm down?

 

Revelation 4 gives us the answer.

Here we see a glimpse of heaven

John has a wonderful vision of heaven ---- a door standing open to allow him to peep in and see the glory of God.

 

He saw God enthroned in glory and majesty, splendour and power ---- surrounded by many creatures who worshipped and adored Him.

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty. You are worthy to receive glory and honour and power; for you created all things and by your will they were created and have their being.”

 

You created all things: - the whole vast universe was created and is sustained by God ----- and Jesus was with God in that work of creation.

 

John 1:1-3 “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.

Through him all things were made, without him nothing was made that has been made”

 

“Who is this man?” the disciples asked.

He is the Word --- he is with God ---- He is God ----and He created everything.

 

This man Jesus who calmed the storm on the lake is none other than the mighty, powerful God who made the whole of the world and therefore calming the wind and the waves was a small matter for him.

 

!!! ??? We too might ask: - “Who is Jesus? How can he deal with my problems?

Jesus, to whom we pray, is none other than the great and glorious God who John glimpsed in his vision.

With him all things are possible ---- even dealing with our problems.

 

At the guide camp we had no fear in the storm because we knew how capable and caring our captain was.

 

When we realise who Jesus truly is ------- the powerful creator God, who loves us and cares for us ------ then we can, with confidence, safely put our trust in him.

 

 

2 QUESTIONS

“Where is your faith?”

  • Do we rely upon own ability to see us through life?

 Sadly, there are times when problems arise that are beyond our ability to cope.

  • Is our faith in Jesus, who is with us always and promises to help us carry our burdens and to give us peace.

 

“Who is this man?”

  • Just a figure in history, someone we heard of at school
  • No, he is none other than Almighty God, the creator of this vast universe

With him nothing is impossible ----- not        even dealing with our problems.

 

A children’s chorus sums it all up

 

My God is so big, so strong and so mighty

There’s nothing that he can not do

The mountains are his, the rivers are his

The stars are his handiwork too

My God is so big, so strong and so mighty

There’s nothing that he can not do

 

Doubt

Given by: 

Charles Wide

Date given: 

15th November 2009

Book: 

None

Chapter: 

None

Doubt

 

On 6th April 1767, Voltaire (Francois Marie Arouet) [1694-1778] wrote this in a letter to Frederick the Great: 1. “Doubt is not a pleasant condition, but certainty is an absurd one.”

 

It is hard for anyone who is both prominent and religious to express doubt. The media pounce on it as if they have just exposed another Tory ‘split’ on Europe.

 

You may remember that couple of years ago they thoroughly overexcited about the revelation (in fact it was old hat) that Mother Teresa suffered a deep crisis of faith for the last 40 years of her life.

 

            She wrote in a private letter 2. : “I am told that God loves me and yet the reality of darkness and coldness and emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul.”

 

            Anyone who has prayed fervently and unsuccessfully will know this feeling. And, if we are honest, almost all Christians experience times when we have no sense of response from God or even a simple feeling of God’s presence.

 

            The Welsh poet and Anglican priest, R.S. Thomas [1917-2000] expressed this superbly well in his poem The Absence: 3.

 

 

It is this great absence

that is like a presence, that compels

me to address it without hope

of a reply. It is a room I enter

 

from which someone has just

gone, the vestibule for the arrival

of one who has not yet come

I modernise the anachronism

 

of my language, but he is no more here

than before. Genes and molecules

have no more power to call

him up than the incense of the Hebrews

 

at their altars. My equations fail

as my words do. What resource have I

other than the emptiness without him of my whole

being, a vacuum he may not abhor?

 

            The natural result of this feeling – or lack if it – is doubt.

 

            For centuries, religious faith and science were assumed to be in harmony.  Indeed, the harmony created by God's design was thought to be what science revealed.

 

By Victorian times, however, the old certainties were under the cosh.

 

Palaeontology, the study of fossils, and geology, for most thinking Christians, delivered conclusively deadly blows to belief in the literal truth of the creation stories of the Old Testament.

 

The necessary implication of Darwin was not merely that the Bible was not literally true. Even more seriously, his work struck at the heart of the conception of man as unique among living creatures, having a particular relationship with God.

 

Added to this, literary scholarship increasingly treated the Bible a collection of texts which could be analysed in the same way as other works of literature. Thus Holy Scripture came to be seen as the work of men and women, in the context of their historical cultural circumstances, rather than the inerrant Word of God.

 

As a 19th-century liberal preacher (the Rev. F.W. Robertson), who was famous in his day, said:4.            “It is an awful moment when the soul begins to find that the props on which it has blindly rested for so long are, many of them, rotten and begins to suspect them all.”

F.W. Robertson (19th century vicar of Holy Trinity, Brighton).

 

This sense was famously echoed by Matthew Arnold in Dover Beach 5.:

The Sea of Faith

Was once too, at the full, and round earth’s shore Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.

But now I only hear

Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,

Retreating, to the breath

Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear

And naked shingles of the world.

Matthew Arnold [1822-1888]

 

            Some robust Victorians dealt with doubt by hearty, no-nonsense activism. Charles Kingsley wrote to his wife:

 

6.         “Feed on Nature, and not try to understand it. … Look around you much. Think little and read less. Never give way to reveries.”

Charles Kingsley [1819-1875]

 

This approach continues to work for many. But what about those who have more reflective personalities?

 

Doubt should not be a cause of anxiety. It can be welcomed as something creative which can contribute to the development of faith. And we should draw strength from those who have gone before us and confronted the same thing.

 

Right back to St. Augustine:

7.         “For if I doubt, I am.”

St. Augustine of Hippo [354-430]

 

            Mother Teresa is a wonderful example. For all her doubts, she continued to have faith in the Christ to whom she prayed without discernible response. And that faith sustained her in great, hard works of love.

 

            Tennyson put it this way 8.:

There lives more faith in honest doubt

Believe me, than in half the creeds.

 

For R.S. Thomas, disenchantment with institutional religion did not weaken his faith 9.:

a faith to enable me to outstare

the grinning faces of the inmates of its asylum,

the failed experiments that God put away.

 

            Tennyson’s expression of mature, questioning faith and hope, in In Memoriam 55, should inspire us all 10.:

 

I falter where I firmly trod,

And falling with my weight of cares

Upon the great world's altar-stairs

That slope through darkness up to God.

 

I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope,

And gather dust and chaff, and call

To what I feel is Lord of all,

And faintly trust the larger hope.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson [1809-1892]

Full of Grace and Truth

Given by: 

Rev Barry Morrison

Date given: 

15 February 2009

Book: 

John

Chapter: 

1

 

Sermon at St Peter's, Oundle on 15 February 2009, 2nd Sunday before Lent.  Barry Morrison 

 Full of Grace and Truth     John 1.14

 

A prostitute is so driven by her addiction to drugs that she rents out her 2 year old daughter for kinky sex.  She can make far more money that way in downtown Chicago.  Philip Yancey tells the story in two of his books.   The Christian worker is at a total loss and at last asks, "Have you ever thought of going to a church for help?"  "Church!" she cries out, "Why would I ever go there?  I feel so terrible about myself already.  They would just make me feel worse." 

Jesus somehow attracted and welcomed people like her, the unclean and the untouchable, the lepers, prostitutes and tax collectors, the notorious sinners, all who would be shunned and excluded by everyone else.  A few months ago I heard a broadcast sermon.  The speaker said that at a conference a Leader of a large Church couldn't sleep and went out to find a cup of coffee at an all-night café at 5am.  The only other customers were prostitutes.  One was telling the others that it was her birthday the next day, but she had no family, no friends, no real home, no hope of presents, nothing to look forward to - and then she left.  The Church leader found the courage and grace to say to the others, "Why don't we give her a party, here, tomorrow morning?  I'll get a cake."  And so they did.  Amidst all the balloons and streamers, and after the cake and candles, laughter and no doubt tears, they found out what he did.  One of them said, "I would like to go to a Church that welcomes prostitutes." 

Jesus was full of grace and truth.  In chapter 4 of his gospel John tells of Jesus resting in the heat of mid-day at a well.  A Samaritan woman comes to collect water.  It is quite hard for us to understand just what this meant.  The Samaritans were of Jewish, but also mixed, descent.  They also shared much of the Jewish faith, but this too was mixed - with pagan influences from their neighbours.  Those who are of mixed descent and mixed religion are often the most despised, and the most unfairly despised and rejected.  John simply says, "The Jews have no dealings with Samaritans."  Jesus was of course a Jewish man.  We also need to remind ourselves just how chauvinistic Jewish men could be, strict Jewish men beginning their prayers each day, "Thank you, Lord, that I am not a Gentile (non- Jew) and not a woman."  That is deeply embarrassing and shameful.  So here we have this Samaritan woman coming to collect water under the blazing mid-day sun.   This could only mean that she was avoiding the sniping and sneering, the malicious gossip and taunting that would be provoked by her life-style.

 Jesus talks to her.  Jesus takes her seriously, treating her with dignity and respect.  He asks for water to quench his thirst.  He then offers her living water to satisfy all thirst, indeed a spring of water welling up to eternal life.  "Yes, please," she says.  "Call your husband and bring him here," says Jesus, before going on to say, "You have had five husbands and are now with someone else."  The woman moves the discussion to the differences between Jews and Samaritans and Jesus says gently but firmly that we must worship God in spirit and in truth.  The Messiah?  I am he. 

The woman rushes back to the village.  She leaves her water jar behind.  Note carefully the spirit in which she says, "Come and meet someone who told me everything I've ever done."  It's not - what a terrible man who has shopped and exposed me!  But - what an amazing and wonderful man, he knows all about me, but there is something totally different about him.  He is offering life, real life, to me!  Jesus was full of grace and truth.  What a perfect balance.  This balance is reflected equally in the response of Jesus to the woman caught in adultery, in chapter 8 of the gospel.  "Whoever is without sin," says Jesus, "You throw the first stone; yes, go on, you."  And when they all leave, in growing honesty realism and shame, he says to her, "I don't condemn you either.  Go and sin no more."   

There was a special experience of grace and truth at the recent General Synod.  I have this on the authority of my wife Gill who tells me that it included the best debate in her three and a half years as a member. The motion called for both freedom and a lead in sharing the gospel of salvation through Christ alone with people of other faiths and none, linked to Jesus' words in John 14, "I am the way, the truth and the life; no one comes to the Father except through me."   A number of bishops had found the motion somewhat embarrassing, and it had been put off after being submitted for an earlier Synod.  In the event, the spirit and mood were overwhelmingly positive, with speakers keen to quote examples of God's truth and grace both from the scriptures and from their experience.

 One contributor had previously been a Buddhist and for him this had meant worshipping idols who had given him no peace.  Jesus Christ gave peace and grace in abundance.  In another session a mother from Bradford, formerly a Muslim, had been subject to various threats and had moved home more than once.  She was very touched by the gratitude, understanding and encouragement she received both in the debate and from other members afterwards - grace and truth.  One member said the Synod knew him as a woolly and dodgy liberal.  He had the courage to say, "I haven't had this experience of conversion many have spoken of.  I would like to.  I need some help."  "All are welcome at any stage," responded Archbishop John Sentamu, "Come and see me afterwards."  Life, grace, truth.

 One final example from the ministry of Jesus, in John 8.  He was in discussion with the religious establishment of his day, the leaders, the Pharisees and the teachers of the law.  "You can be physical descendants of Abraham," he warned them, and I paraphrase,  "but still not real sons of Abraham or of God at all, unless you recognise and believe in me as the living Son of the living God.  The truth, this truth, alone will set you free from pride and self and sin."  Jesus warned them; and he also warns us, a special reminder for those of us with responsibility to lead and to teach, clergy, readers, teachers.  We are called to constant humility, to depend on the grace of God alone to put and keep us right with him. 

 Jesus was full of grace and truth.  We are called to be the same, individually and as his family and fellowship.  John warns that Jesus came to his own, Jewish people, but all too many did not receive him.  John writes of his own personal experience and that of his fellow disciples, "From the fulness of his grace we have all received, grace upon grace, one blessing after another."  Have you received him, and do you know him for yourself, personally?  This is the very heart of our faith, and it is expressed as we come equally to receive Communion with open, empty hands to receive again mercy and forgiveness, grace and reassurance, help and strength.  As we shall sing just a little later in our service, amazing grace.  

 

 

Doctrine and Dogma

Given by: 

Charles Wide

Date given: 

8th February 2009

Book: 

None

Chapter: 

None
Doctrine/Dogma

 

 

            I can’t stand the ‘sign of peace’. I cheerfully admit that I am probably wrong about this. My dislike of it says more about my limitations than any objective truth.

 

Conclaves of terrifyingly rigorous and spiritually impeccable scholars are satisfied that they have recovered an important strand of worship in the first Christian communities which has powerful contemporary resonance.

 

Many Christians find it a continually moving expression of the solidarity and mutual support to be found within congregations of believers.

 

But I still can’t stand it.

 

This is a good example of the way in which different backgrounds of personality and upbringing can cause people of the same professed faith to disagree sharply.

 

This does not matter much in an atmosphere of mutual tolerance and respect. But the lack of mutual tolerance and respect has been melancholy feature of the history of Christianity.

 

Today, this is often expressed in relation to matters which can hardly be described as first-order priorities – such as whether to have the ‘sign of peace’. There are those who will not come to church unless the service is to be found in the 1662 Book of Common Prayer and others who will not come to church if it is. Much as I love the Book of Common Prayer, even I can’t pretend that I think that its use (as opposed to Common Worship) is a matter of first-order priority.

 

By comparison with the great debates of the past, these are questions of the utmost triviality. But at least people do not actually get killed as a result.

 

The great controversies of history concerned questions of dogma and doctrine.

 

 Some definition of terms is needed. These will do but they are not especially precise or definitive:

 

Dogma: doctrines essential to Christian faith by universal assent.

Doctrine: the authoritative teaching of the church.

Theology: the views of individual thinkers on the nature of God.

 

            By this standard, some think that only the divinity of Christ and the associated Trinity can properly qualify as dogmas.

 

            Examples of doctrine are: original sin; substitutionary atonement; the sufficiency of scripture; predestination and election; purgatory; justification by faith; the nature and number of sacraments; Papal infallibility.

           

For an idea to survive, flourish, and develop it needs to find expression in an institution: whether it is the Royal Horticultural Society, the Rugby Football Union, or the Church. That institution will define itself and therefore its members by the creation of purposes and rules. To be cohesive and effective, orthodoxy is imposed.

 

            For example, to have a proper game of Rugby, it matters whether a team’s numbers are limited to 15 and whether a player is allowed to throw the ball forwards.

 

            What is true for a game, is far more so for a community of believers where what is stake is the meaning of life and salvation of souls.

 

            Controversies have raged among Christians from the very start. We read in the Acts of the Apostles of the terrific rows in the early Jesus movement (before it broke away from Judaism) about the terms on which Gentiles could be accepted.

 

            There were the seismic battles in the 4th century when the Emperor Constantine convened the Council of Nicea [325 AD] to settle the question of the relationship between Jesus and God the father (Christology).

 

The major controversy was between the followers of Arius (who thought that Jesus was of like substance with the father: homoiousios) and the followers of Athanasius (who thought that Jesus was of the same substance as the father: homoousios). There was only one letter but a world between them.

 

Athanasius won. As a result, we have the Nicene Creed, the Athanasian Creed, and the doctrine of the Trinity (which, it should be understood, developed in the 4th century).

 

This raises the question of how can such disputes be resolved? From where is authority derived?

 

The conventional analysis of the sources of authority identifies these strands:

*      Scripture

*      Tradition

*      Reason

*      Experience.

 

Immediately, one can see that different Christian groupings and individuals will give different weight to each of these elements.

 

           

In reverse order:

 

*      Charismatic Pentecostalists emphasise their direct experience of the work of the Spirit

*      Sceptical, contemporary liberals look to reason

*      Roman Catholics give priority to obedience to the Magisterium of the Church and its centuries of traditional wisdom

*      Protestants tend to look to scripture

 

In history this has given rise to exclusive claims to truth and the scandal of mutual antagonism between Christians.

 As the factions warred (especially when those factions were associated with ethnic or political identity and economic self-interest), much blood has been spilled.

 

Look at the five “great fundamentals” identified by the World’s Christian Fundamentals Association which was founded in the USA in 1909:

 

*      The literal inerrancy of scripture

*      The virgin birth

*      Substitutionary atonement

*      Bodily Resurrection

*      Christ’s divinity and imminent return

 

Many sincere, thoughtful Christians would not consider these “fundamental” or would say, “It depends what you mean by …”

 

Compare them with the Rev Professor Keith Ward’s formulation of fundamental beliefs:

 

*      The existence of a creator God

*      The revelation of the unlimited love of God shown in the life and death of Jesus

*      The hope that all might share in the redemption of the world that is accomplished by God in and through Jesus Christ in the power of the Spirit.

 

But why does any of this matter?

 

It matters because the church in Western Europe is fighting for its life. Its portrayal by an ignorant and sceptical media is a parody of what Christianity is actually like. “Dogma” has become a term of denigration. It is assumed that to engage with the church one has to believe 243 bizarre and contradictory propositions before breakfast.

 

            I have come across a number of thoughtful people, who are sympathetic to the church, who are put off because they think that you cannot be Christian unless you believe that every word in the Bible is literally true or because they cannot say the Apostles’ Creed without crossing their fingers.

 

Karl Rahner, German Catholic Theologian [1904-84], beautifully expressed the answer to this in his Theological Investigations:

 

The clearest formulations, the most sanctified formulas, the classic condensations of the centuries-long work of the Church in prayer, reflection and struggle concerning God’s mysteries: all these derive their life from the fact that they are not end but beginning, not goal but means, truths which open the way to ever greater Truth.

 

In relation to doctrine, how should we approach the questions which even Oundle School’s illustrious old boy, Professor Richard Dawkins, struggles to answer: why and how is there something rather than nothing? And what, if anything, has the life, teaching, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth got to do with it?

 

 Julian of Norwich was a 14th century hermit and mystic. Her name came from the church in Norwich to which she was attached -  which is still standing though much damaged in the last war.

           

The theme of her famous book Showings or Revelations of Divine Love is the love of God as she came to understand it through a series of visions she experienced during a serious illness.

 

What she wrote, as she sought to penetrate the meaning of these visions, applies as much to us as we try to penetrate the meaning of doctrines concerning the nature of God as revealed in Jesus Christ:

 

What? Do you wish to understand your Lord’s meaning in this thing? Know it well. Love was his meaning.

 


 

The Feeding of the Five Thousand

Given by: 

David Teall

Date given: 

3rd August, 2008

Book: 

Matthew

Chapter: 

14

David Teall

 

In our journey through Matthew we have, over the course of the last few weeks, heard many of the parables that Jesus told during the course of his short ministry here on earth. Several of the parables have involved seeds and the sowing of seed and last week Philip left us with the question “What sort of seed are you?” During the course of my talk this morning I shall be asking a similar question.

 

This morning’s reading, the Feeding of the Five Thousand, occurs in all four gospels and there is a further account of a similar event known as the Feeding of the Four Thousand in Mark and Matthew. The inclusion of six separate accounts in the Bible of what may have been just a single event may well be part of the reason why the story is amongst the best known. But what type of story is it? Is it a Miracle or is it a Parable? I would like to suggest that it is both.

There can be no doubt that the miracles performed by Jesus helped to spread his name rapidly across Galilee and Judea and to draw the crowds to see him. Indeed, in John’s Gospel we are told that the Five Thousand had gathered ‘because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick.’ Through his performance of miracles, and in particular, his healing of the sick and feeding of those in need, we are given a vivid insight into the love and compassion of God. A love that has no boundaries and extends to all: Man and Woman - Jew and Gentile. And what a blessing that insight has proved to be to us and to countless millions of believers over the centuries. The knowledge that we have a God who feels our pain and loves and cares for us as his children.

But what of the Feeding of the Five Thousand as a parable? Much has been written on this subject. Some writers have looked back to parallels in the Old Testament such as Elisha taking 20 loaves of barley to feed a hundred people in the Second Book of Kings or the story of Moses and the falling of manna, or bread from heaven in Exodus. Others have looked forward to parallels with the Last Supper, the Eucharist and the Messianic Banquet. Both make fascinating reading, but this morning I would like to tease out what to me is at the centre of the story by looking at it from the point of view of the boy mentioned in John’s account of the story.

All four Gospel writers tell us that there were five loaves and two fish but only John tells us where they came from: ‘there is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish.’ We don’t know anything else about him, but we do know that that boy gave up what he had in order that the multitude could be fed. Let us think about that a little more. How many people would five loaves and two fishes feed under normal circumstances? It depends rather upon the size of the loaves which we don’t know, but they were likely to be rather closer to the size of what we would call a bun rather than that of a Mighty White Sliced Loaf! We know a little more about the fish as some of the gospel writers do tell us that they were small. So, how many would this packed lunch have fed? Five people perhaps? That would be a bun each and less than half a fish. Maybe if the loaves were a little bigger it could have been stretched to 10 but more than that and the ration would be getting a little meagre. That would suggest that Jesus miraculously produced the food for at least 4990 people from thin air. If he could do that, it is reasonable to suggest that he could equally well have produced the food for the full 5000 from thin air – but that is not what happened. For the miracle to occur, Jesus asked someone, in this case the boy, to give up what he had for the benefit of those who had nothing. That, for me, is the key to this story.

Put yourself, if you would, in the place of that boy as he saw Andrew, a big, burley fisherman, striding through the crowds looking for food. You’ve got these five barley loaves and two fish but no-one else around you seems to have got anything to eat at all and there are thousands of them! What are you going to do? What thoughts are racing through your mind as Andrew gets nearer and nearer? ‘I’m hungry. I’ve been out in the desert for hours. I’ve no idea how long it will take me to get home. I need this food for myself. I thought ahead and brought it with me. If other people didn’t think, that’s their lookout. I’m keeping it for myself.’ Might you have thought in that way, at least for a while?

But wait! Maybe you were not just carrying the food for yourself: ‘this food is not just for me’ you rationalise, ‘it’s for my family and friends and neighbours. I have a responsibility to keep it for them. I’m not going to give it to Andrew to share with all these people who I don’t even know!’ Might that have been your reaction?

Or perhaps you had neither of these responses. Perhaps you heard Jesus talking to the crowds a few months ago: ‘Blessed are the merciful’ you remember him saying. ‘Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.’ ‘In everything, do to others as you would have them do to you.’ Inspired by the wisdom and authority of this itinerant preacher from Galilee you were determined to live your life according to his word and so handed over the loaves and fishes to Andrew without giving it a second thought.

We shall never know what thoughts went through the mind of that boy as he clutched his parcel of food on the mountain side 2000 years ago, but we do know what goes through our mind when we see an appeal on television or pick up the Christian Aid envelope that drops out of the Gazette onto the floor. How does our response to the needs of others compare with the possible responses I have suggested of the boy on the mountain?

I suspect that we all like to feel that we do better than the totally selfish response of wanting to keep everything for ourselves. I suspect also that few of us would claim to follow the teaching of Jesus entirely in both our thoughts and our actions without a second thought. Such devotion is beyond all but a very few whom we rightly revere as Saints.

That leaves most of us, to some extent or another, occupying the middle ground of willingly extending our help to family, friends and near-neighbours but still hesitant when asked to extend it yet further. Jesus was well aware of this human failing and tackled it head on in another of his well-known parables – The Good Samaritan. In that story he made it clear that we are all neighbours and that we must help anyone who is in need; not just those with whom we live in close proximity. So how can we use the story of the Feeding of the Five Thousand to help us to extend our horizons further and care for all our brothers and sisters in this great global village in which we now live?  I suggest that we remember that for a miracle to happen, someone has to give up something of what they have for the benefit of those who have not – and that someone is me and you.

Sometimes the cause and effect are easy to see. The response to the Asian Tsunami a few years ago saw millions of people in the west give up a little of what they had and the miracle in terms of relief for the suffering happened before our eyes. In other cases the cause and effect is not so clear.

Every time we go shopping we make decisions that will affect our neighbours somewhere in the world. We may choose to buy food that has been flown in from the far corners of the earth or we may choose produce that has been produced here in the UK. We may choose Fairtrade products or we may go simply for the cheapest. When we make those decisions let us remember that for a miracle to happen, someone has to give up something of what they have for the benefit of those who have not.

Governments too, on our behalf, make decisions that have huge effects on our global neighbours. Encouraging farmers to grow oil-seed rape or use maize for the manufacture of bio fuel in order to keep down the cost of fuel has reduced the quantity of basic staple foods being grown and pushed up their cost to the detriment of the poor. The amount of maize needed to produce just one tank of fuel for a typical family car would feed a family of four in the third world for three months! Using fertile land to grow bio fuel in a world where millions are starving is not the answer to soaring fuel prices. Being prepared to give up some of our use of fuel for the benefit of others is the way for the miracle to happen.

We who live in relative luxury in the western world must take on board the fact that the day-to-day decisions we make have a radical effect on the lives of the poor throughout the world. To “Make Poverty History” will indeed take a miracle: but for that miracle to happen, we must follow the example of that small boy on the mountainside and be prepared to give up something of what we have for the benefit of those who have not.

Ask the Lord of the harvest to send out labourers into his harvest

Given by: 

Peter Morrell

Date given: 

15th June 2008

Book: 

Matthew

Chapter: 

9

“The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out labourers into his harvest.”

It was earlier this year, in conversation with a fellow student at college, that I first heard about Street Pastors. Then I read a piece about it in the Sunday Telegraph two weeks ago. I wonder if any of you saw it as well? Street Pastors are described in the article as “part of an interdenominational Christian group of adults moving out of their middle-class, middle-aged comfort zones to make the streets feel safer while they are on patrol...The experiment began in Brixton in 2003, based on a Jamaican model, with trials taking off in London, Manchester and Birmingham. Five years on the street pastor project has spread to small towns and suburbs, where the civilian patrols deal less with gang culture and more with drunkenness and anti-social behaviour. This year, the number of areas patrolled has grown to 70, with 50 more groups planned by the end of this year”. A number of examples of the work they do are given, from which I select just one. “A woman in her early twenties...limps barefoot out of Vodka Revolution Bar, clutching sky-scraper heels. She tip-toes around broken bottles towards a taxi rank. Cathy, a primary school teacher in her fifties, fishes some flip-flops out of a bag to offer the shoeless clubber some protection. Free flip-flops are the latest addition to the street pastors' arsenal of goodwill”. Street pastors do not get involved in law enforcement. If they see trouble, they use a hotline to the local police; and the police welcome the work of street pastors which frees them up to deal with more serious issues. And, as the journalist put it, “to my surprise, it is the hoodies who are hugging the God Squad.’We love you street pastors' passing groups shout, taking pictures with their mobile phones”. Street Pastors are supported by the Home Office and Google will find you a number of websites about them.

“The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out labourers into his harvest.”

Between the elections of Tony Blair as Labour leader in 1994 and of David Cameron as Conservative leader in 2005, little fundamental seemed to divide our major political parties. All were competing for that elusive territory, the middle ground. But, now that may be changing. A major debate is developing concerning the proper role of the State in the life of the citizen. Traditionally, the Left has seen the State as the guarantor and provider of social support to eliminate poverty and to provide services like health, employment and education. If that emphasis was down-played by Tony Blair, the same is unlikely under Gordon Brown. David Cameron, on the other hand, argues for a reduction of the role of central government in favour of individual self-reliance and, importantly, social help and support determined and provided, so far as possible, by local communities through local councils, self-help organisations and charities. This difference of approach is potentially significant; and as the debate continues, it cannot be taken for granted that New Labour will continue to argue for centralised delivery over local community-based activism. It will not surprise you, I suspect, to learn that David Cameron enthused over the Street Pastor scheme. He said earlier this year, “It's absolutely fantastic the job street pastors are doing...What we need is more people out in the community supporting the police, who can't do the job of beating anti-social behaviour on their own”.

 

Now, whilst I think that Cameron’s idea has much to commend it, it is not my purpose this morning to argue that Christians should vote Conservative at the next General Election. My purpose is to link Cameron’s idea with our Gospel reading, so that, if it is given wings, as well it might be, Christians will be ready to take full advantage of the opportunity it will provide to labour in the Lord’s harvest.

 

“The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out labourers into his harvest.”

God calls every human being into a loving relationship with him. Not everyone answers that call; but you and I have. That's why we're here this morning. And answering God’s call to enter into a relationship with him makes us his disciples. There are many reasons why people come to church; they like singing; they welcome the chance to join in prayer and worship; they like to come and chat with their friends. None of those motives is to be despised; all are to be welcomed. But we must remember Archbishop Rowan’s gentle warning:

“The view that the Church is essentially a lot of people who have something in common called Christian faith and get together to share it with each other and communicate it to other people ‘outside’…looks a harmless enough view at first, but it is a good way from what the New Testament encourages us to think about the Church”.1

God’s call to us is not only to enter into a loving relationship with him. As every human being is created in his image and he in-dwells each one of us, to be in a loving relationship with God, to love him as he loves us, requires us also to love one another. And loving one another requires us to do more than just to come to church.

“The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out labourers into his harvest.”

The Lord's labourers are disciples like us. And disciples make a serious mistake in assuming that the sort of Christian activism that really makes a difference, like street pastoring, is the preserve of ministers: priests, deacons, readers, pastoral assistants and parish evangelists; any more than police officers and judges, for that matter, can mend society. The imperative of going out into the Lord’s harvest, of ministering to the needy, is the task of every Christian. I am not suggesting for one moment that all of us should become street pastors. As St Paul tells us more than once, the Holy Spirit has equipped us with many and various gifts [e.g. 1 Cor 12:4-11]; but Jesus warns us that our talents are not to be buried or guarded; they must be put to use and at risk in the service of God [Matt 25:14-30].

 

There is a new spirit abroad in England, a new conversation as to how to address the problems of our society. The idea that this is the sole prerogative of the State has been tried, not only here, but across the world and been found wanting. In the Soviet Union, in China, in Cuba and elsewhere, its ideologically purest manifestation, communism, has been tested to destruction. State care is well-meaning, but it lacks the Gospel quality of love; of love exercised by individuals at community level, where, like the Good Samaritan, people take personal responsibility for the delivery of relief and the meeting of need. After the next General Election, whoever wins it, the old approach really may be abandoned in favour of the new. If and when that happens, the Church, Christ’s disciples, you and I, must be ready to meet that challenge, to answer the call to be labourers in the Lord’s harvest; just as street pastors are doing now.

 

“The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out labourers into his harvest.”

 

By the grace of God, when the call comes, we shall not be found wanting.

1Williams, R. (2005). The Christian Priest Today. Justice Reflections. 68 (9) p.2.

Palm Sunday

Given by: 

Charles Wide

Date given: 

16th March 2008

Book: 

None

Chapter: 

None

Palm Sunday

 

            In the late summer of 1996, we were on our way to Lords to see Northamptonshire play Lancashire in the final of the Benson and Hedges Cup. In St. John’s Wood Road, we bumped into an acquaintance from these parts. A man of independent means, about 12 years older than me, sporting a very smart and expensive panama with (crucially in this context) an MCC hat band.

 

            That’s the end of the story. There’s no punch line and the only joke that day was Northamptonshire’s batting.

 

            My description of this panama wearing MCC member is selective and intended to convey something (but not all) about him. Listeners will supplement the picture and fill in gaps according to their personalities and experience.

 

            Some people will immediately have formed (with approval) a picture of a cricket-loving, Daily Telegraph reading, gentleman amateur and member of the Establishment.

 

Others will have gained an impression of a fuddy-duddy old reactionary, who probably disapproved of the sporting boycott of South Africa and is determined to exclude women from his inner sanctums.

 

            Both judgements, as they relate to the whole man, as he really is, would be wholly wrong.

 

            Those making them would have been indulging in 1. isogesis ­ - an excellent theological jargon word. It means interpreting by imposing your own ideas on the story or text; as opposed to exegesis, which means interpreting by drawing the meaning from what is there in the story or text.

 

            And what’s more, his wife told me last week that he has never owned a panama hat in his life.

 

According to the gospel of John, there was this exchange between Pilate and Jesus: 2. “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Pilate then asked Jesus, “What is truth?” [John 18.38].

 

Scripture is the foundation of our faith: the basis of what we believe and how we should behave.

 

As we read the Bible, Pilate’s penetrating question needs to be asked again and again. And answering it demands discernment.

 

Or, to put it another way, religion for grown ups.

 

This is the hallmark of Protestant Christianity. For it, many people suffered oppression or even death. We have inherited a Bible in our language. We can read and interpret it for ourselves. Of course, to do so we are helped by the accumulated wisdom of the church, our reason, and our experience. But we are autonomous human beings and our minds and our hearts are ours.

 

I say ‘hearts’ because this is not a dry, academic exercise. It is a sincere search for ultimate truth with which the deepest parts of our personalities are engaged.

 

Truth is not just a matter of what can be mechanically recorded or tested in a laboratory. Its expression does not depend on literal, factual accuracy. King Lear is not an historical figure. He does not have dates you can learn at school. And yet Shakespeare’s play explores the most profound truths about what it means, psychologically and politically, to be a human being.

 

            Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem is a good example of all this.

 

            Let’s start with a small detail. Was it one donkey or two? Matthew says two. The other gospels say one. Let’s look at what the prophecy reported in Matthew actually said rather than what the evangelist said it said.

 

3.         “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! / Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem! / Lo, your king comes to you; / triumphant and victorious is he, / humble and riding on a donkey, / on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” [Zechariah 9.9]

 

            This is just an example of parallelism: saying the same thing twice slightly differently.

 

It seems that the evangelist simply misunderstood Zechariah and, in his anxiety to make events fit the prophecy, altered them. Each of the other Gospels has only one beast and not necessarily a donkey.

 

            All of the Synoptic Gospels [1st 3] imply that the getting of the donkey was the result of some sort of supernatural foresight on Jesus’ part. The real reason could perfectly well be a sensible arrangement made in advance. Or chance. John merely says: 4. Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it. [John 12.14]

 

            What about a much bigger question, the story’s historicity – did something like this happen at all?

 

The triumphal entry is one of the surprisingly few things to be found, in some form, in all four gospels. That implies that it was deeply embedded in early tradition.

 

However, when it comes to the descriptions of the so-called ‘trial’ of Jesus there is no reference to the event. This is odd as, if it happened, the triumphal entry related directly to the issue at the trial: who did Jesus claim to be?

 

Perhaps that says more about the accuracy of the accounts of the trial than it does about the triumphal entry.

 

What was all the fuss about?

 

The evangelists all describe Jesus as presenting himself in a way which could only outrage the Jewish religious establishment and alarm the Romans: entering Jerusalem as a Messianic, Dividic, warrior king who, having conquered, would bring peace.

 

            The Synoptic Gospels imply the sense that, whatever Jesus was trying to convey about himself, people were simply shouting ‘Hosannas’ at the arrival of the prophet from Galilee. As to who he was: “Son of David” is about as strong as it gets.

 

            John, however, says that it was all about the raising of Lazarus:

5.  “So the crowd that had been with him when he called Lazarus out of the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to testify. It was also because they heard that he had performed this sign that the crowd went to meet him.” [John 12.17-18]

 

            Who was doing all the shouting? Matthew and Mark just say they were people or crowds. John says they were pilgrims. Luke’s account is precise and different: 6. “... the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen.” [Luke 19.37]

 

If Luke is right, that old chestnut of the fickle mob is laid to rest: that the same people who acclaimed him were, a few days later, calling for his death. In fact, when you read the gospels you will find that there is, simply, no biblical support for this contention.

 

            What about the palms? Only John says that there were any. Matthew has branches cut from the trees. Mark has leafy branches cut from the fields. Luke has only cloaks.

 

            7. “others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road” [Matthew 21.8]; “others spread leafy branches that they had cut from the fields” [Mark 11.8]

 

When did this event occur? The crowd’s cries echo psalm 118:

8. Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord./We bless you from the house of the Lord./The Lord is God, and he has given us light./Bind the festal procession with branches, up to the horns of the altar.” [Psalm 118.26-7]

 

The waving of palms and using the words of this psalm reflect practices at the Feast of the Tabernacles or the Feast of Dedication (respectively in autumn and winter). Passover is in the spring.

 

This has led to the idea that Jesus might have arrived in Jerusalem much earlier than the gospels suggest or that another visit by Jesus to Jerusalem is being described.

 

Even scratching the surface in this way shows the difficulty of trying to take these ancient texts at face value. However, as we explore them, we find that great, simply expressed themes recur and resonate, at the heart of which is this: that we must love God and each other; and that, through love, we may hope to be united with each other and with God - decisively and eternally.

 

            Beside the truth of these great themes, the factual truth of Biblical detail is unimportant. We can be completely at ease with imagery and factual inconsistency. But we must constantly search for the truth of what the Bible actually says and not impose on it what we think it ought to say.

 

            I am not going to say what I think about the triumphal entry to Jerusalem. You can read the story for yourselves. Read about it for yourselves. And think about it for yourselves.

 

But as you do so remember the man in the panama. Or not.

 

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