Tuesday, 24 December 2013

Christmas : The beginning of a marriage between heaven and earth?

To make sense of Christmas, I believe we need to look right to the end of the Bible, to the book of Revelation:

Revelation 21:1-6

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more.  And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.  And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,
‘See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them;
they will be his peoples,
and God himself will be with them;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.’
And the one who was seated on the throne said, ‘See, I am making all things new.’ Also he said, ‘Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.’ Then he said to me, ‘It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.

I would like to see the start of a rebellion.  Now, as we celebrate the birth of the one Christians call the Prince of Peace, this may not be the kind of thing we might expect to be thinking about, but nevertheless, I want to see a rebellion, a rebellion that is against the belief that what you can see, touch, taste, listen to and measure is all that there is.  Such a rebellion could profoundly alter the West.  Our culture is dominated by a belief that reality consists entirely of what is material, and I think it’s time we challenged that with a message that starts at Christmas and finds its fulfilment at Easter, and it is all to do with heaven, or more precisely it’s all to do with heaven and earth.  But when we think of heaven, what are our first thoughts?

Many of us have had to bury loved ones as we have had to come to terms with their deaths.  So for many of us when we think of heaven what we think of is somewhere, far away, where our loved ones now live.  Our natural inclination is to think that heaven is distant because our loved ones seem distant; they’re no longer with us.  But I think we need to change this belief, because it is so very mistaken on two counts.  Firstly because we have come to think of heaven as primarily a place where the souls of our loved ones go when they die, and secondly because that implied distance makes us think heaven is a long way away, when actually I think it is far closer than most of us have ever imagined.  So let’s think about these two points and how heaven relates to Christmas and the Christian understanding of God's plan for humanity and for our future.

The first thing we have to alter is our belief that heaven is primarily where the dead go when they depart this life.  Now don’t get me wrong, I am not saying that the dead don’t go to heaven, but what I think we need primarily to change is our belief that this is the most important characteristic of heaven, because it isn’t.  By far and away the most important thing about heaven is that it is the primary dwelling place of God.  Now it is my belief that the presence of God is felt through every fibre of the material world in which we reside; that God is as much, ‘here’ as he is ‘there’.  However I also have to recognise that if God’s presence was fully realised in this place, then we would lose our free choice of whether to seek him out of not.  We would be overwhelmed by God’s glory.  And so God veils his presence here, but in heaven God resides in all his fullness.  And it is not only God who resides in heaven, but all the angels do too, all the thousands upon thousands of them.  We may think of angels as primarily being messengers that come from heaven to earth but it seems that the limited numbers of accounts about heaven and angels in the Bible suggest otherwise, that there are only a small number that do that.  So the first and most important thing for us to take on board is that God’s full presence is revealed in heaven, and that is it’s main reason for existence, as God’s residence.  Now if we can take that on board, and shift the emphasis away from it being all about where the souls of the living go, then we can also begin to get a grasp on the second point, that heaven is not far away. In fact heaven is actually very close.

Think about it like this, and this is of course a metaphor, but this is just to get an idea of distance.  In this world we think of three different spacial dimensions.  There is up and down, then at ninety degrees to up and down there is left and right, and then at ninety degrees to up and down, and left and right, there’s near and far.  Three sets of dimensions all set at ninety degrees to each other.  But what if we could turn another ninety degrees to those three dimensions?  Bit of a mind-bender that one, but if you can get your head around it, then that would mean that heaven isn’t ‘up there’ somewhere, it’s actually right here, right alongside us, just at a metaphorical ninety degrees to our reality.  Yet there is some evidence for this, such as at the beginning of the book of Revelation.  In chapter one St. John explains that he was in the Spirit on the Sabbath, clearly praying very deeply, when he hears a loud voice from behind him.

From behind, not from above.

Then he writes that he turned to see who was speaking to him, and turned his face to see straight into the face of Christ standing in the midst of heaven.  He turns, he doesn’t have to look up or go anywhere.  He just turns.  Heaven is right there alongside him.  Heaven is right here alongside us.  This chimes far more with me than this idea that God is in his heaven, far away, and sometimes he chooses to come here.  Now that won’t come as a surprise to some of us.  Many people reading this will at some time have had an experience of the presence of God or maybe of an angel, and we know the truth of this, that heaven is close, it’s just that it’s masked from us.

And this is the kind of idea that you find growing throughout the Bible as it begins to become apparent that God created heaven and earth at the same time, right there in Genesis 1:1, and both of them were only ever meant to have a finite existence, to be here for a time and then to pass away.  Heaven is a spatial place which lies alongside this spacial place.  It is a real place, and the deepest presence of God dwells there.  But this is not God’s final plan.  God’s ultimate plan is for heaven and earth to be completely joined, and towards the end of the Bible, in the reading we had from Revelation, God declares that plan, that there will be a new heaven and a new earth because the first heaven and the first earth have passed away.  And the comment there about there being no more sea refers to what they used to think of as the waters of chaos that sat between heaven and earth, dividing them.

In other words the very end of the story of this creation is about a new creation, where heaven and earth are joined and God dwells amongst us.  All of which brings us back to this service because when we celebrate Christmas, what we are celebrating is God making a crucial step in the unifying process by coming to us, born as one of us.  It is supremely difficult for us to access heaven because although 'spatially' it may lay alongside us, in terms of its nature we’re right to think of it as somehow being ‘up’.  Heaven is a place of much greater dynamism than this, making it difficult for us to consider how we could be there.  This is why most of the experiences that we have records of are of people having visionary experiences of heaven rather than actual ones.  So we can’t go ‘there’, but God can come ‘here’...

...and so he did.

To get our head around what that means, consider the amount of emptying out of his power that the Son of God had to do.  The one who created all things, both seen and unseen, was able to set it all to one side, allowing himself to step through reality, to step sideways.  Let’s be honest, it is hard to get our heads around it, but I believe it to be true, that the Son of God, the Word of God who was with God in the beginning of heaven and earth, slipped into this world, born as one of us.  No kings were summoned to the party, just the lowly shepherds, who really were the lowest of the low in that culture, and for them the veil between heaven and earth, so close together, was slipped back as they witnessed the angels singing out of this great mystery, that God should come to earth.

So this is what took place that first Christmas.  Heaven is so close to earth you can almost touch it, especially at those thin places where God’s presence resonates with the surroundings, but at that time and that place they did touch, and by his birth Jesus began to open the door through which heaven could pour in to earth.  This is why Jesus calls himself the way - because he is the way into the presence of God, into God’s dwelling place, so close to ours.  This is why in worship we sometimes feel caught up into heaven, it’s because we actually are!  This is why some of us have glimpsed angels in worship, because we are sharing in an activity that is happening at both places at the same time.

And when we come to Easter we’ll consider how Jesus not only pushed the door between the worlds open, but he pulled it off the hinges.  But for now, this Christmas, let’s start the rebellion.  This world that you see, this isn’t all that there is.  There is so much more laid alongside us.  Christ slipped between the worlds so silently, but it was just the first step in the plan that will one day culminate in heaven and earth being joined.

But for now, for this celebration, it is enough just to remember that heaven is close.  Join the rebellion, because if we start to consider just how close heaven is, then with God’s help, we can change the world.

Friday, 20 December 2013

When doing the right thing is not enough

I find that people often equate being a Christian with doing the right thing.  But does that reduce Christianity to being merely an ethical path? 

Matthew 1 :18-end
Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit.  Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly.  But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.  She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.’  All this took place to fulfil what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:
‘Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
   and they shall name him Emmanuel’,
which means, ‘God is with us.’  When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

Going beyond 'the right thing'
Would you like to be a part of the story of our salvation?  That is the challenging question that today’s Gospel reading brings to us, and it all revolves around the story, not of Mary, but of Joseph.  Mary’s story is the one that we always seem to tell at Christmas.  Maybe it’s because children delight in the story of how a young woman had to travel in difficult circumstances in order to have a baby in a stable.  But all of that happening depends on the decisions made by Joseph, a man who is put in an impossible situation.  So let’s consider a little of what takes place in the life of Joseph.  We don’t know much about him, although his absence from the picture of Jesus’s life and ministry have led many people to assume he was older than Mary and had died by the time Jesus was thirty.  We simply don’t have access to that kind of information.  But Matthew does tell us something of supreme importance: Joseph was a righteous man.  This is vital because it tells us something about values.  Joseph was a man who would keep the ten commandments.  He wasn’t anything special, just a builder, a first century peasant trying to make his way in life, and trying to do the right thing.  And so he is engaged to be married to Mary.  Culturally this would have been very different from a modern engagement, and perhaps we don’t always appreciate just how different the culture was.  Let me therefore make it as clear as I can that marriage and sex were inseparable in that culture.  It was unacceptable to have one without the other.  But in the engagement there was no sex.  In fact once they were engaged it would be about a year before they married, and part of that delay may have been to show that they approached marriage in a state of being pure of heart.  In an age before contraception, it would therefore be obvious if they were unable to control themselves.

We have seen sweeping changes in our own cultural understanding of sex and relationships in the last two generations and so for many people today it is difficult to appreciate quite how difficult this was for Joseph and Mary when it became apparent that she was pregnant.  Two things appeared to have happened.  In Luke’s Gospel we learn that very soon after Mary learned she was pregnant she went swiftly to the hill country to stay with her relative, Elizabeth.  Now why would she have done that?  Mothers, who did you most want around you when you first fell pregnant?  Many women, if they have had a good experience of childhood, will say that it was their mother.  So why did Mary literally run to the hills?  I want to suggest that she knew she was in real danger.  You see marriage and sex were so inseparable, and Mary was already engaged to Joseph, that her pregnancy and his denial of being the father put her at risk not just of public humiliation and shame, but of being stoned.  Betrothal was almost as binding as marriage, so if she was pregnant and Joseph declared himself not to be the father, then that would have made Mary an adulteress.

So Joseph knew the risks for Mary, which is why he was going to quietly break it off, so as to not draw attention to her.  But also what about his feelings?  In a culture where virginity before marriage was absolutely sacrosanct, can you imagine how he would have felt?  For any man to  discover that their fiancee was pregnant from another man would be utterly devastating, but even more so when it was such a strong cultural taboo.  He would have felt utterly, utterly betrayed by her.  Now it is a mark of the kind of man that Joseph was that even despite his own feelings he still did not want to expose her to public shame.  How would we have responded I wonder?  That kind of shame usually leads someone to take action to respond to the hurt that has been caused, but Joseph planned to dismiss Mary quietly despite what must have been incredible feeling of turmoil and anger. 

Joseph was a righteous man and he planned to do the right thing.  That is until the angel of the Lord comes to him in a dream and changes everything, and Joseph discovers that the right thing to do is not the righteous thing to do, which presents him with a new and greater challenge.  Now he has to face public ridicule and shame too, because in hastily marrying Mary he is publically owning her pregnancy which would make the others in their tiny village of Nazareth assume that the child was his, in other words that he and Mary hadn’t been able to wait until they were married.  Sex outside marriage did happen from time to time, and children were conceived and the law made it clear that if a man took a woman’s virginity then he must marry her.  To the outside world that would be how it would have seemed, and Joseph would have to bear the shame of people gossiping as he walked by, ‘Look there goes Joseph, the man who couldn’t control himself throughout the betrothal.’  Rumours like that stay with a person throughout their life, and indeed it seems to have followed Jesus.  Thirty years later, in an argument recorded in John 8 where it seems to be that Jesus’s accusers throw at him the charge of being illegitimate.  It seems that as a Rabbi he still had to live with this stigma.

This passage raises a question for us.  I think it asks us about our use of scripture to shape our morals.  Like Joseph, we can live a wholly righteous life according to the rules in the Bible...

...but it might not be enough.

God may ask us to do something else.  This is one of the reasons I have huge problems when people reduce Christianity to ethics or depend utterly on the Bible as a rule book when God sometimes asks us to go beyond the so-called righteous norms.  So when people talk about trying to live a Christian life, you can see the shortcomings of that in the light of Joseph’s experience.  He was a righteous man trying to live a good Jewish life, but it wasn’t enough.  Living ethically may be good for your neighbours, but unless we live both ethically and spiritually we can entirely miss what God is asking us to do.  Thankfully Joseph was a strong enough person to be able to step back from merely doing the right thing and go on instead to do the difficult thing.  And that is what following Christ may demand of us.  We can try and be good people and lead good lives, what we might even call Christian lives, but that may not be sufficient, not if we want to be a part of the story of salvation...

...which brings me back to the question I began with; do we want to be a part of the story of salvation?  Think about Joseph again for a minute.  What if Joseph had not been awake to revelation?  What would the story have been like then?  What if Joseph had just done the right thing because he was not in the state of mind and spirit to hear an angel in a dream?

But he was and his story is a cornerstone of our salvation story.  So let me suggest that if we listen out for revelation from God, then we to may be a cornerstone in someone else’s salvation, and I use the word salvation in a broad sense here.  For example some people may have significant resources which they are generous with according to biblical principles, tithing a certain percentage.  This is biblically the righteous thing to do.  But are they listening for revelation from God to do something else?  Or some people may be good at being friendly but what if they became aware of the call of God to befriend someone difficult?  And believing in Christ may well affect how we live our lives, but what if someone asks us about what we believe?  Are we spiritually aware enough to know what to say?

What we believe should definitely affect our morality, but living a good life may not accomplish the plans God has for us.  Sometimes the challenge is to do something very difficult and in so doing to be a part of the story of salvation for someone else.  Are we awake enough to revelation for that to happen?

Friday, 6 December 2013

One Bible - One God - One Evolving Revelation.

I guess that I have a bit of a bee in my bonnet about the Bible.  I have an issue with people reading it as if it was a scientific textbook when in reality it is a library composed of numerous different genres, some poetic, some didactic, some narrative, some prophetic and so on.  All of it was written in a culture different from our own, and so all of these things have to be taken into account when we read it.  That means sometimes we have to wrestle with it...

Reading : Romans 15:4-13
For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope.  May the God of steadfastness and encouragement grant you to live in harmony with one another, in accordance with Christ Jesus, so that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.  For I tell you that Christ has become a servant of the circumcised on behalf of the truth of God in order that he might confirm the promises given to the patriarchs, and in order that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy. As it is written,
‘Therefore I will confess you among the Gentiles, and sing praises to your name’;
and again he says,
‘Rejoice, O Gentiles, with his people’;
and again,
‘Praise the Lord, all you Gentiles, and let all the peoples praise him’;
and again Isaiah says,
‘The root of Jesse shall come, the one who rises to rule the Gentiles;
in him the Gentiles shall hope.’

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

One God?
Many times I have heard people say something along the lines of, ‘Why do we have to read the Old Testament?’  This is normally backed up by comments about how the God of the Old Testament bears no resemblance to the God of the New Testament, appearing to be somewhat warlike, cruel, and unrecognisable from our picture of the One about whom the New Testament writer St. John wrote, ‘God is love, and those who live in love live in God.’  I think we need to address this for a number of reasons. 

Firstly, in the next few weeks and over Christmas we are going to hear quite a few prophecies from the Old Testament that we will apply to Christ.  My feelings about this are that we should not cherry pick just the bits we like - to do so feels to me like it lacks integrity.  So we either have to forget the prophecies we use at Christmas, or we accept the Old Testament and wrestle with it as a foundation to the story we share.
Because that’s what it is.  Our New Testament reading starts with:
    “For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope.” 

‘Whatever was written in former times’ is what we call the Old Testament, but for Jesus and St. Paul who wrote this letter, that was the only Bible they had; that was their ‘Word of the Lord.’

Secondly, once you start looking at Matthew’s Gospel, the first book in the New Testament, you begin to pick up from the very Jewish feel that he put into his writing that Matthew simply considered he was writing the next book in the evolving story of God’s dealing with God’s people, and in this book the message that had formerly just been for the Jews was now to be taken to the rest of the world.  Matthew didn’t think he was writing the beginning of some New Testament.  As far as he was concerned, this was continuing the same story, not beginning some new story.  And that is perhaps the most important point that we need to get our heads around.  We may call them the Old and New Testaments but they are both parts of the one library of books that we call the Bible.  So if the Old Testament is the foundation on which the New Testament was written, how are we going to deal with it, because deal with it we must since it is a part of our spiritual heritage.

I want to suggest to you that we see it like this, that the Old Testament contains the evolving revelation of the nature of God to God’s people.  It is a story that is told over many generations of upheaval and social change, with some stories being written down long after they actually took place, and when you read it in the chronological order in which it was written it often looks as if their understanding of God evolved as more of God’s nature was revealed to them.  But to read it chronologically is quite difficult.  For example for the last hundred and fifty years or so modern biblical scholarship has recognised probably four different authors with different understandings of and names for God in just the first five books of the Bible, with a fifth group pulling their writings together into what has been called the books of Moses.  Each of these four come from a different time period with different experiences of God but their sections are often mixed together.  If you want to test this for yourself just look at the two different names for God used in just the first two chapters of Genesis.  Each group has its own style and tended towards one of several names for God.  If you want an introduction to this have a look at the wikipedia article on the subject at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Documentary_hypothesis  

Now I recognise that for some this could be disquieting.  But knowing more about the background and the context does not diminish the Bible, it just helps us read it more intelligently.  We have always believed that the Bible was written by people through the Holy Spirit, not dictated by God, so what we are reading in the Old Testament is the experiences of God with cultures very different from our own.  I know that some want the Bible to be a textbook that can be read in any context to teach us something straightforward about God, and lots of it does exactly that.  However there is also much that we have to wrestle with and for those parts we need to know the context in which they were written.  Only then can we see the whole book as a structure that gradually builds towards the revelation of the Son of God coming amongst us.

Let me say just a few more words about how radical this growth in understanding was.  Remember that the culture in which the followers of Yahweh was birthed was a polytheistic one.  We know that the Canaanites, the dominant people of the middle eastern region that came to be Israel, worshipped a multitude of deities.  So it should come as no surprise to us that coming from within that culture there is a strong suggestion in modern scholarship that God’s people had to learn monotheism, but didn’t start with it.  Monotheism was a new thing.  Just like each one of us, they had to seek revelations from God about God’s nature and then gradually change their world-view accordingly.  An awful lot of scholars believe that at the beginning of the Hebrew understanding they were not wholly monotheistic but were in fact henotheistic.  Henotheism is the belief that there are many gods but we worship only one of them.  That suggests that earlier on in Israel’s history the people believed in the existence of gods of the other nations around them, but that Yahweh was their god.  Later on comes the idea that Yahweh was actually the supreme God, and finally comes the belief that Yahweh was the only God. 

In the midst of this were many battles against other nations.  Their god, so they believed, rode out in battle with them against the gods of other nations.  When they defeated an enemy it may have been because they believed Yahweh had defeated the other nation’s god.  Now in that context we can begin to see why God appears warlike, because within the context that those stories arose the nation was battling for its survival.
By the time we get to the exile of the sole remaining Israelite tribe of Judah, the Jews, in Babylon we find the prophets appear to be monotheistic, stating that God had used another nation to judge them.  This is a change from a belief that their God had been defeated and marks a clear monotheism that isn’t so well defined earlier on.

I don’t want to spend ages on this, but just to prove a point, Daniel 11:36 (Daniel is actually quite a late book) refers to the God of gods, and Psalm 82 seems to have similar inclinations as God takes his place in a divine council of deities as their chief God.  (Bear in mind that there are many different ways to understand these passages, some of which are not henotheistic).  There are plenty of other passages too such as the plural God uses in Genesis 1 when God says, ‘Let us make humankind in our image’.  Who did they think he was talking to?  Some have suggested angels, yet angels were created not creators.  Some have suggested an early sense of plurality within God’s singular nature - a forerunner of the Trinity if you like, and others that they believed Yahweh to be chief among the gods and he was speaking to other deities.  The truth is we can never know for certain, we can only follow the lead of theologians who suggest that there is much to be understood and wrestled with in the Old Testament.

The point I am trying to make here is that if we are going to take the Old Testament seriously, which I believe we must, then that also means that we must be prepared to wrestle with it and acknowledge that in order to understand what is written then we need to understand the history surrounding it.  When we do that, and when we read it as St. Paul suggests in this passage, as words of encouragement, then we can see that God’s plan in the Old Testament seems to unfold as gradually, first to individuals and then to a new nation, God reveals who he is, to the best that they can understand within their own context.  Then, as they begin to understand the magnitude of this new monotheism, so God reveals gradually that his plan is for the news about him to be carried into the rest of the world, and those are precisely the passages that St. Paul quotes in the Romans passage; the promises that the message about God was going to spread from Judea to people of other nations, to the Gentiles.

So in a sense the books we call the New Testament are just the next stage in that progression, and this comes out clearly in the Gospel reading as John the Baptiser bursts on to the scene with Matthew affirming that he is the one spoken about in Isaiah, and again we can see that there is continuity here.  Matthew isn’t starting a new book but continuing the progressive revelation from God of who God is that started way back when Abraham encountered him.  And what is more, and again I know this is perhaps controversial, but even though the canon of scripture has been closed, God continues to reveal more of his nature to us through history.  For example there is very scant evidence for a doctrine of God as a Trinity anywhere in the Bible as we understand it now, and where it is mentioned there are suggestions that they may be later additions.  It actually took another four hundred years before the understanding of the Trinity we have today reached its current form.  It’s not fully affirmed in the Bible, though it is strongly suggested, yet in church we recite creeds that make it a clear part of Christian doctrine.

And so it continues in the lives of each one of us, if we choose to do so.  You see I can teach about God from a Christian perspective to the best of my knowledge and from reading the Bible and the theological texts that help interpret it, and that’s a part of what I am called to do.  But each of us needs to experience that personal revelation of God too, and to grow in our own understandings.  We may struggle with an Old Testament image of God as being warlike, yet have you not had times when you have felt as if God was fighting for you?  And some of us may struggle sometimes with what some feel is a little too much of a touchy-feely God, yet in the experience of many of us there are times when in the depths of despair there has been a gentle caring touch of a parent, like one bringing peace in the night to a distraught child.

We see different faces of God in the Bible because God goes far, far beyond our understanding, and we need to recognise that.  If we’re not wrestling with the images of God in the Bible then we’re treating it like a scientific text book that gives us all the answers rather than as a book that should provoke us with more questions to go deeper into our experience of God.  But all of these different images of God in the Old Testament, so it seems to me, are there to focus our attention on Christ.  All of the Bible, from the very beginning of God’s revelation, makes it clear that God desires us to know how close he truly is, and who, because there was no other way to convey it, came even closer to us by being born as one of us, that in all his infinite majesty and love that is beyond us, we might finally begin to understand something of what this God is really like when he empties himself and becomes one of us.

And if we struggle with some of the Old Testament pictures of God, then we will probably also struggle with some of the New Testament pictures of Christ for they are all part of the same story.  We cannot have just the Jesus who blesses the little children without also having the raging Christ who deliberately makes a rope to whip the moneychangers.  We cannot have the Jesus who washes his disciples feet without also having the Christ who curses a fig tree and disowns his family, and also tells people they can’t follow him unless their desire to follow is so strong that it appears that they hate their family.  They are all the same God, revealed to us, and if we’re not struggling with some of these aspects of Christ, then we’re perhaps not seeing the big picture.

I think we struggle with the Old Testament because perhaps we’re cherry picking just the nice bits out of the New Testament.  But they’re all about God, and if we haven’t had to wrestle with some of what the Bible says about God, then maybe we need to read it a little more.  Maybe sometimes we even have to even ask if the context in which they wrote distorted the truth!

So this Advent, as we prepare to receive the nice prophecies about Jesus from the Old Testament, may we be challenged to read the other parts too, because it is all a part of one whole narrative, a narrative that is continuing today.

Sunday, 1 December 2013

The end of the world?

My apologies but this is all based on a long reading.  The thing with Jesus's sayings about the end of the world is that there's a reasonable amount of them.  So rather than just picking a little up out of context, here's the whole relevant section.  I've left the verse numbers in because I refer to them from time to time below.

Matthew 24

24As Jesus came out of the temple and was going away, his disciples came to point out to him the buildings of the temple. 2Then he asked them, ‘You see all these, do you not? Truly I tell you, not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.’

3 When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to him privately, saying, ‘Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?’ 4Jesus answered them, ‘Beware that no one leads you astray. 5For many will come in my name, saying, “I am the Messiah!”* and they will lead many astray. 6And you will hear of wars and rumours of wars; see that you are not alarmed; for this must take place, but the end is not yet. 7For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines* and earthquakes in various places: 8all this is but the beginning of the birth pangs.
9 ‘Then they will hand you over to be tortured and will put you to death, and you will be hated by all nations because of my name. 10Then many will fall away,* and they will betray one another and hate one another. 11And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. 12And because of the increase of lawlessness, the love of many will grow cold. 13But anyone who endures to the end will be saved. 14And this good news* of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the world, as a testimony to all the nations; and then the end will come.

15 ‘So when you see the desolating sacrilege standing in the holy place, as was spoken of by the prophet Daniel (let the reader understand), 16then those in Judea must flee to the mountains; 17someone on the housetop must not go down to take what is in the house; 18someone in the field must not turn back to get a coat. 19Woe to those who are pregnant and to those who are nursing infants in those days! 20Pray that your flight may not be in winter or on a sabbath. 21For at that time there will be great suffering, such as has not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, and never will be. 22And if those days had not been cut short, no one would be saved; but for the sake of the elect those days will be cut short. 23Then if anyone says to you, “Look! Here is the Messiah!”* or “There he is!”—do not believe it. 24For false messiahs* and false prophets will appear and produce great signs and omens, to lead astray, if possible, even the elect. 25Take note, I have told you beforehand. 26So, if they say to you, “Look! He is in the wilderness”, do not go out. If they say, “Look! He is in the inner rooms”, do not believe it. 27For as the lightning comes from the east and flashes as far as the west, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. 28Wherever the corpse is, there the vultures will gather.

29 ‘Immediately after the suffering of those days
the sun will be darkened,
   and the moon will not give its light;
the stars will fall from heaven,
   and the powers of heaven will be shaken.
30Then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in heaven, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see “the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven” with power and great glory. 31And he will send out his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other.

32 ‘From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. 33So also, when you see all these things, you know that he* is near, at the very gates. 34Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. 35Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

36 ‘But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son,* but only the Father. 37For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. 38For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, 39and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. 40Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. 41Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. 42Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day* your Lord is coming. 43But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. 44Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.

The end of the world?
In my earlier days as a theological student I was forever bombarded with words about which I had no comprehension...

...words like ‘priest’ and ‘church’ and ‘God’.

But in the midst of those were some nuggets of real incomprehension; words like apocalyptic and eschatology.  One of the lecturers saw the worry on my face and said to me, ‘Paul, don’t worry if you don’t know what eschatology is, it’s not the end of the world!’

For those who don’t understand the reference, of course that is exactly what eschatology is, the study of the end of the world, and that which is apocalyptic is actually about revealing what is taking place behind the events in the world and what they mean.  So this is all about the end of the world.

Or is it?

Well actually the truth is that serious theological scholars are utterly divided on what exactly is going on here with some saying that this entire section is all about the end of the world and others saying that absolutely none of it is about the end of the world whilst yet others say that only some of it is about the end of the world.  Since knowing how this world will end and how close we are to that end is something that everyone is interested in, it seemed to me pertinent that we look at the whole section and see what Jesus is actually saying here.  We local clergy were lucky enough to listen to Paula Gooder, a Birmingham based theologian, speaking about this recently, and she takes the third view, that some of this is about the end, and some of it isn’t.  That was a relief to hear for me because that was what I was taught and I haven’t read anything yet to contradict that point of view.  So we’re going to take a whistle-stop tour from two thousand years ago to the end of human history, all contained within one chapter, and then we’re going to ask what it means to us.

The first part of reading was one where you find yourselves feeling a little sorry for the disciples.  They have just arrived in Jerusalem and are awestruck by the Temple.  Bear in mind that by this time construction of Herod’s temple has been going on for decades leading to a colossal building of astonishing beauty, standing more or less where the current Dome on the Rock stands, but something like three times the size.

Alison and I visited Salisbury cathedral for the first time last year and were awe-struck by its beauty and architectural magnificence, but imagine how much greater the effect would have been if we had never seen a cathedral before.  That’s really how it was for the disciples.  So they make a passing comment which is more or less, ‘Wow Jesus, have you ever seen anything like this?’  It’s just a passing comment, no big deal, but you have to feel sorry for them by the way Jesus leaps in with a prophecy that has probably been on his lips for some time, waiting for an opportune moment.  The shocking news that this amazing new temple will fall leads the disciples to ask two questions, when will this happen and what will be the signs of the end of the age?

We need to recognise that there are two questions here, not one, and that the answers Jesus gives relate to both questions.  His first answer is a broad brush stroke painting of history, warning people not to pay attention to false signs and to expect persecution in the coming generations.  We forget, because this is a so-called Christian country, that Christians in other nations are imprisoned and executed for their faith today, not to mention the hideous ordeals that the early Christians went through.  It is from verse 15 that we start to get into the meat of the passage when Jesus warns that when the desolating sacrifice stands in the holy place then everyone should run away from Jerusalem as fast as possible because a great disaster is about to befall them.  The question is, what is this desolating sacrifice?  When the prophet Daniel used the term it referred to an incident between the Old and New Testaments when Antiochus IV Epiphanes set up an altar to Zeus in the Temple and sacrificed pigs on it around the year 167 BC.  But that event was in the past when Jesus spoke.  So what was he referring to, even though he was quoting directly from Daniel, a book that was very popular in Jesus’s time?  Well I can promise you that whole books, indeed whole theologies have been constructed around this statement, and the matter is still not settled.  However most modern serious Biblical scholarship believes that Jesus was referring to the armies of Rome beginning to mass around Jerusalem in AD66 for the most appallingly long siege, and their ultimate placing of their standards in the temple when they finally captured it.  In other words he was simply warning them not to get drawn into nationalistic fervour when they saw the Roman army start to gather, because God wasn’t going to bring about his new kingdom through war with the Romans.  Instead they should get out of Jerusalem and run for the hills because God’s judgement was coming on the city, and that they should pray that it wouldn’t come in winter and that they wouldn’t have small children to care for. 

So this middle section isn’t actually about the end of the world at all!  It’s all about the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple, event that took place between AD66 and AD70.  But then in verse 29 Jesus shifts his focus abruptly to what does indeed appear to be about the end of the world as he tells of cosmic signs in the heavens.  Again we simply have no consensus as to what this means.  It may be colourful language in the style of  Jewish Apocalyptic, the same style that John wrote Revelation in, to predict massive social upheaval, or it may have a more literal meaning that there will be astronomical signs.  I can’t tell you which because even the best scholars are divided on this one.  We don’t even know what the sign of the Son of Man appearing in heaven will mean.  Again there is no consensus.  The only thing we can actually be sure about is that the text indicates that at some point God will send Christ once again, only not to be born as a baby as at Christmas but to come with power in such a way that it is unmistakeably him.

But when will this happen?

That’s the other question the disciples asked and it’s one that every believer wants to know.  When will the end of the world come?  You can find books and websites geared up to making this prediction.  So let us be absolutely and totally clear on this because Jesus made it very clear.  No one knows, not even Jesus.  And if he doesn’t know then we can’t.  How many stories have we read in the newspapers about people who have exposed themselves as crackpots for making predictions about the end of the world?  No one knows when it will happen and Jesus makes it clear that life will be going on as normal when it does happen.  In other words most people will be caught out.  But not, he says, us, if we’re careful.  So what are we to do with this array of stories?  Well to be honest it strikes me that this is a very good time in human history to be putting all of this together because we are able to use the records of the past to judge the reliability of the predictions of the future by the way earlier predictions appear to have come true.  For example, the Old Testament is littered with predictions of the arrival of Jesus as an earthly incarnation.  Yes, if we read them with integrity so we can see that many of those passages have two points of focus, one close up and one far off.  Many of the prophecies that we read as predicting the birth of Jesus were fulfilled firstly by the coming of others to the Jewish people, anointed as God’s servants, as what we might think of as types of Christ; forerunners.  When Jesus himself arrived he fulfilled or re-fulfilled a significant proportion of them.  But not all of them.  Some of them suggested that God’s anointed one, his Messiah or Christ, would come in power, something that Jesus most definitely did not do.  Yet here Christ himself talks about the Son of Man coming in great power to mark the end of this age, and so we have evolved a doctrine of the second coming, that the Old Testament prophecies were indeed all true but marked two separate roles for God’s anointed servant.  The first was his incarnation as a lowly child of Mary and the second was his return at the end of the age.  It is to these prophecies of return that Jesus is referring in this passage.  But as we have seen, some of them refer to the fall of the Temple in Jerusalem in AD70 when the Romans utterly destroyed the newly completed Temple and not to the end of the world.

There is a fairly clear pattern for us here.  If Jesus’s birth fulfilled half of the Old Testament prophecies about him, and if he himself added prophecies about the fall of Jerusalem, then shouldn’t we be taking seriously his claim that he will return one day in power?

And that is really the point of all of this.  Parts of the Old Testament predict his arrival as one who comes almost silently and gently.  That happened.  He predicted the fall of Jerusalem, and that happened.  So if he says that one day he’s coming back, well shouldn’t we be taking notice?  So when will it happen?  Well therein lies the problem.  Jesus made it clear that even he didn’t know.  Only God the Father knew. And the Father was keeping the knowledge to himself.  You can understand why because not knowing encourages us to live in a particular way, which is in a state of waiting readiness, observing the signs of the age.

The whole meaning of this entire chapter can be brought down to just two words at the beginning of verse 42: ‘Keep awake.’

But what exactly does he mean by that? 

A group of us debated this during the week and one person explained her fear that maybe this meant we were supposed to live every day as if it were our last, because if that was the case she’d have to spend every day on the ‘phone to her relatives telling them how much she loved them.  Well maybe we shouldn’t put off telling people what they mean to us, but personally I don’t think that’s really what it’s about. 

To me this passage asks us a fairly simple question: Are we living each day to the fullness of how it should be lived?  Are we trying to live holy and complete lives within the boundaries of the cards that have been dealt to us?  Are we putting things off day after day that need to be dealt with?  Are we conveying our love to the people who matter to us?  Are we praying and growing spiritually?  Or are we simply coasting - waiting for something to happen?

The truth is that no one knows when the end will come, and now I’m not speaking about the end of the world, but about the end of our lives.  Each of us prays that we will reach the end having had all of our allotted time span and with no regrets, but there are no guarantees that this will happen.  Most of us have lives touched by unexpected death or loss of health.  So I want to suggest that this passage is asking us to live lives that are filled with expectation as we wait for the return of Christ, whilst living out each day to its fullest as we explore what Christ has asked of us, using the gifts he has given us.

Advent is meant to be a time of waiting, but that isn’t meant to be sitting around metaphorically reading a book or watching a film as we wait for something to happen.  It is meant to be about a waiting which involves an active preparation for the events that are to come.  So as we wrap the presents and send the cards, as we plan the Christmas dinner and put up the decorations, we should ask ourselves this question:- Are we putting as much active spiritual effort into actively waiting for Christ by the way we live and pray as we are putting physical effort into waiting for Christmas?  If the Turkey isn’t basted and the potatoes aren’t peeled then it won’t be ready for Christmas, and if the prayers aren’t said and the lives aren’t lived, when our time comes, neither will we be ready to meet Christ.  Just two words sum up all of this, the words of Jesus to his disciples: Keep Awake.

Sunday, 24 November 2013

I believe therefore....

Apologies for having been less good at posting these up in the last month.  Rather a lot to concentrate on in the parish.

This week I've been wondering about how much we are actually changed by what we claim to believe in.  A couple of Bible readings to start with:

Revelation 3:14-22
‘And to the angel of the church in Laodicea write: The words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the origin of God’s creation:

‘I know your works; you are neither cold nor hot. I wish that you were either cold or hot.  So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I am about to spit you out of my mouth. For you say, “I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing.” You do not realize that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.  Therefore I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire so that you may be rich; and white robes to clothe you and to keep the shame of your nakedness from being seen; and salve to anoint your eyes so that you may see.  I reprove and discipline those whom I love. Be earnest, therefore, and repent.  Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me.  To the one who conquers I will give a place with me on my throne, just as I myself conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne.  Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches.’

Luke 23:33-43

When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left.  Then Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.’  And they cast lots to divide his clothing.  And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, ‘He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!’  The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, and saying, ‘If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!’  There was also an inscription over him, ‘This is the King of the Jews.’

One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, ‘Are you not the Messiah?  Save yourself and us!’  But the other rebuked him, saying, ‘Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation?  And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.’  Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ He replied, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.’
Today, the last Sunday before the waiting season of Advent, is called Christ the King.  Yet the Gospel reading seems a far cry from our ideas of monarchy.  There are no robes of state, but instead a man pinned naked to a cross between two criminals, and the question this image asks, no demands of us is, what is our response?  Or does it?  The reason I say that is that one need not respond.  After all, not everyone does, and that is precisely what we find in the Gospel reading.  When you look through it you can see that besides Jesus there appear to be five different people or groups in this passage, and what happens as he is executed speaks volumes about them.  And that’s really what I'm writing about.  You see how we respond to Christ, or indeed to whoever we claim to follow, says something about how seriously we take him.  So let’s have a look at the different people and groups as they come up and ask where we fit in to this.

The first group mentioned are simply the crowd.  They are of paramount importance to the message of this account so I’m going to come back to them.  The first group we’re going to look at are the religious leaders, who simply scoff at Jesus.  Scoff is a bit of an odd word and I prefer the NIV’s alternative translation which says that they sneered at him.  In other words they treated Jesus with derision and scorn.  So the response of the religious leadership was essentially the view that Jesus was beneath them - unworthy of respect.  He was getting what he deserved as an upstart who had threatened their status quo.  They had been looking for some sign of power that he was indeed the one who God had anointed, not realising that sometimes the setting aside of power is its greatest strength, a message to be revisited at Christmas.  The religious leaders were unable to grasp that God’s understanding of leadership is very different from our understanding.  Human leadership often seems to be more about a desire for, and a demonstration of, power.  The approach of God to power is very different, and that should go for the church too.  Remember Christ said that it is the meek who will inherit the earth.

The second group are the soldiers who crucified Jesus and the two criminals.  Their response mirrors the religious leaders, but where sneering implies looking down on someone who you regard as beneath you, mocking implies that they simply thought he was ridiculous.

Thirdly we meet one of the criminals.  There is a bitter edge to his words as he challenges Jesus to save them all from their plight, and I find myself considering him as a man to whom life has been cruel, leading him to blame others in order to excuse his decision to take what he wants for himself.  I think of him as a man who has taken no responsibility for his actions but thought only of taking what he sees as rightfully his.

Then fourthly we meet the other criminal, and this time it is a man who is able to take responsibility for his actions.  He knows that what he has done is wrong and he appears to be the only one who actually recognises who Jesus is.  He is the only one whose words name Christ as king, for he asks, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’  Unlike everyone else in the narrative so far, his focus as his death approaches, is not on what happens now but what is going to happen.  He recognises the timeless monarchy of Christ because his focus is on another country, a kingdom not rooted in this world and its values.  He is the only one here who can actually see what is truly going on.  He has an otherworldly spiritual focus.

But what sticks out for me in all of this is Jesus saying at the beginning of the passage, ‘Forgive them Father for they do not know what they are doing.’  There is a decision on the part of Jesus to not hold their acts against them because of their ignorance.  So Jesus asks for forgiveness for the leaders.  They sneer at him but it’s because they don’t know what they’re doing.  And he asks for forgiveness for the soldiers who mock him, because they also don’t know what they’re doing.  They are at least responding to him and that gives Jesus something to work with.

In other words he has provoked a response in them.

But it’s the crowd that has got under my skin.  What exactly is it that they’re doing?  Well not a lot really.  They are simply watching.  Jesus provokes a response in some people, even if it’s generally one of derision and mockery.  But at least it’s something.  The crowd however?  Nothing.  They just watch, and that bothers me.  So I began to ask why it bothers me and I think it’s this.  The thing with a crowd is that it provides safety in numbers.  If you go along with the crowd and don’t stand out then whatever else happens, at least you’re going to have saved your own skin if no one has noticed you.  I almost imagine Jesus staring at them, challenging them.  ‘You.  What are you going to do?  How are you going to respond?  Give me something to work with, please.’  But no, they simply stand there and watch.

And this is what frightens me about the church of today, the fear that we may actually be indifferent to the claims of Christ.  Think about it for a moment.  Is he actually who he claims to be, that is the Son of God?  Is he who St. John claims him to be, the pre-existent Word of God - present as the hands of God moulding creation from the very beginning?  And if he is that person and he is also the man that was crucified, died, was buried and rose again, what response is that going to provoke in us? 

Let’s glance back at the New Testament reading from that deeply mystical book, Revelation.  These are the words that St. John claims to have heard from the mouth of Jesus.  You might like to think that in this part of the book of Revelation St. John is more or less acting as a secretary as Jesus dictates a letter to the church in Laodicea.  Laodicea was a wealthy town fed by hot water springs, but that water had to travel some distance and may well have become lukewarm by the time it reached the city.  Anyone who has drunk tepid water will know that it neither warms the belly on a summer day or cools the body on a hot day.  It’s just a little insipid and rather useless.  These then seem to be the images that Jesus draws on in St. John’s vision.  The church is in a wealthy city but doesn’t realise that reliance on human wealth has left them bankrupt spiritually.  And that rather than being hotly enthusiastic about Jesus or having a refreshingly cool spiritual nature, they’re a bit nothing. 

You could think of it as like the monitor of someone’s pulse.

When the heart fires you see the pulse mark as a curve that goes up and then drops beneath the line.  But when there is no pulse, all you get is the flat-line, a sign of death.  I think this is what has happened.  There is simply no passion in the Laodicean church.  There’s no quickening of the pulse, and in fact barely any pulse at all.  They don’t get excited.  They don’t stand out.  The effect of Jesus on their lives appears to be non-existent.  In other words they are like the observers in the crowd at the crucifixion.  Just watching and not doing anything.  Don’t stand out.  Don’t be noticed.  Don’t do anything that could be misunderstood by others.  It is as if they are allowing themselves to be unaffected by the events playing out in front of them.

This, I think, is what Jesus holds against the church from Laodicea, that as lukewarm believers they are giving him nothing to work with.  So there is a warning here, that he is about to spit them out.  Remember that we together are meant to be the Body of Christ, and the warning Christ is making to the Laodicean church is that if they continue to be unmoved then he will eject them from the body.

Let’s then do the uncomfortable thing of reflecting these two very challenging readings back on ourselves.  Where do we stand in relation to Christ?  Do we get enthusiastic and passionate about what we believe?  Have the directions of our lives been challenged and perhaps changed by the relationship with which we engage?  You see it is horribly possible for us to attend church week by week, pray all the right prayers, take communion, be involved, try and be nice people, but never actually really and truthfully engage with the possibility that if this man is the Son of God then following him may demand something other than just standing in the crowd.

I remember a band in my teens who had a song with the line, ‘Life is not a spectator sport’.  Those words seem to be rather applicable to these passages.  The crowd are just spectators.  They’re just watching.  Is that how we treat our lives?  Maybe, maybe not.  The question is, are we allowing ourselves to be challenged by what we believe on such a fundamental level that we want to set aside the ordinary and the mediocre in order to live, to really and truly live every moment, as far as we can, in communion with the Holy Spirit, being changed, becoming different people who stand out from the crowd, who can make a difference?

Stepping out of the crowd can be a scary thing to do, and often requires that we ask for courage to do so, but with the alternative being a lukewarm indifference that leads to going quietly into the twilight, which would you rather be like?  I’m not talking about standing on street corners here, yelling at passers by.  But are we actually still asking the question, ‘What do you want me to do about what I claim to believe?’

Descartes said ‘I think therefore I am’.  Maybe our saying should be, ‘I believe therefore I do’.  So what might Christ be asking of us?

Sunday, 27 October 2013

I am not like other people...

When I look at myself I see...
well what exactly?  Myself or myself in comparison with someone else?

Luke 18:9-14
Jesus also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt:  ‘Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax-collector.  The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax-collector.  I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.”  But the tax-collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!”  I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.’

How do you divide the world up?  To one degree or another most people do this with themselves and their clan in one group and other people in a different group, a group to which they feel they don’t or can’t belong. 

‘Us and Them’. 

I recall walking down Oxford Street in London many years ago with a bunch of friends, most of whom were Goths.  The men, perhaps fairly typically of us males, hadn't put such a great deal of thought in as we were, after all, just shopping.  So it was just an array of leather jackets in various styles along with black shirts, jeans and boots.  But the women in the group were another story entirely.  They made great use of shape and texture, of different materials and dyes.  Their clothes were elaborate and creative, as was their hair.

One woman in that group especially stands out in my memory.  She was very elegant with long jet black hair and some of the most intricate eye makeup I’ve seen.  Whilst her clothes were a mixture of black and white,  there was nothing ‘simple’ about them.  Her creativity flowed out into what she wore.  But what I remember most that day was the looks that she got from passers by in Oxford Street.  Many were quite admiring, some were sideways, but in particular there was a group of teenagers in typically casual jogging bottoms, hoodies and trainers who walked by making some very disparaging comments about her.

Us and them. 

These were two distinct subcultures which self-identified by marking themselves out as distinct from, and better than, others.  The Goths looked down at the Hoodies as being uncultured.  The Hoodies looked down at the Goths as being weird.

So often and for so many of us we define ourselves by making a comparison with someone else.  It helps us to work out where we are in the social pecking order. And then we get a parable like today’s which brings us up short, because it points us to two different types of people, a Pharisee and a tax-collector.  For those of you who wonder what’s so bad about tax-collectors, it’s really to do with who they were working for.  A tax collector was a Jew who worked for the occupying Romans.  He was a collaborator, the lowest of the low in social terms, and he had quite possibly creamed a little extra off the top by over-charging.

The Pharisee, on the other hand, was an outwardly devout man.  He gave a tenth of his income and he fasted twice a week.  He was more than fulfilling the Jewish holy law.  Yet there was a distinct difference between them and it comes out clearly in the monologue with which he prays.  The key phrase is that overarching, ‘Thank you God that I am not like them.’  The Pharisee was comparing himself to everyone else, but of course he wasn’t able to see the bad parts in himself.  All he could see was other people and how their bad parts compared to his good parts.  He had been blinded by the comparisons he made between himself and those around him.  He could only see the faults of others, faults that he didn’t see in himself, and so he therefore assumed that he was better than them.  He had placed himself on a pedestal that he had constructed out of the misdeeds of others.  Some might say this is a sign of insecurity, but I don’t think so.  I think this was just force of habit and just human nature.

The tax-collector however couldn’t even look up to God.  In fact he wouldn’t even approach the official place of prayer but stood far-off, maybe outside the Temple.  The tax collector is like the person who comes to church but feels they can’t ever come forward to the altar rail because they are not good enough.  But most importantly his judgment has not been clouded by other people’s actions.  He makes no comparisons.  All he sees is himself.

And so in this Jesus asks the question, when you look at yourself, who do you see?  Are you comparing yourself to other people and are you doing so in your favour, trusting in yourself because by concentrating on the faults of others you have managed to elevate your own position?

But I want to go a step further, because it’s also possible that because of our own personal histories, what we’ve been through or what others have put us through, that we are actually unable to make a favourable comparison, and so we do quite the opposite of the Pharisee.  When we make our comparison we look at all of our worst aspects and compare them with the goodness of other people, and so we convince ourself that we are the lowest of the low.  Just worthless.  So let me make one fundamental point...

The God who has revealed himself in Christ does not make comparisons. 

And this, for me, is the key point to take away from this.  When God is dealing with us as individuals, God does not compare us with each other.  God does not look at me and say to himself, ‘It’s a shame that Paul isn’t as nice a vicar as David.  I’ll have to discipline him a bit about that and make him feel wretched.’  And God doesn’t look at any of us and say, ‘Oh Elizabeth, why can’t you pray a little more like Sandra does?’, or ‘Margaret why can’t you read your Bible as often as Phil does?’  God does not make comparisons.  But we do.  And I think that the foundation for our comparisons comes from the lifestyles we lead and the influences of our culture which we allow to permeate the church.  Both the negative and the positive comparisons that we make are a part of the fall out of living in an advertisement driven, consumer-led culture where people strive to earn more than each other; to have bigger houses, better cars, more expensive clothes, be or at least appear more important.  Everything that we own has the potential to say something about us.  I’m in the process of trying to replace my car, and I’m thoroughly aware that for some of us our choice of vehicle may be influenced by our desire to communicate something about ourselves to those around.

Let me, for instance, ask this question.  What do you think when someone drives past with their windows down playing loud music on their car with it’s flashy paint job and after-market alloy wheels?  Is it something like, 'Jerk!', behind which there might even be be this:

‘I thank you God that I am not like that person.  They are clearly wanting to draw attention to themselves and make themselves feel important.  Amen.’ 

Then perhaps we climb into our shiny big car with the private plate and drive off, without considering whether our choice was influenced by a desire to say something about ourselves.

It’s so subtle isn’t it, and there is such a fine line to be drawn between appropriate and creative self-expression which is a valued part of being human, and doing, saying or wearing something so that others will be able to see that we are better than them.   Do we wear clothes or buy things because we like them or because we want to force others to make a comparison in our favour?

I know of a preacher who is also an art collector and he goes through mental somersaults every time he buys a new piece of artwork because he needs to convince himself that he is buying it out of appreciation for the piece of art and not because he wants it to be a statement that forces other people to think favourably of him as a highly cultured man when they see it hanging in his living room.  I admire that, even if it seems hard, because he is asking such an important question in a consumer society - ‘Why do I want this?’  Look again at what the Pharisee says: ‘I am not like other people.’  Is that what we say to ourselves?  Are the choices we make influenced by a desire to mark ourselves out as different from everyone else?

But God does not compare us.  God looks at us and says simply this, ‘I made you.  I know you’re not like other people.  You don’t have to prove it.  Stop looking at other people because you will only mislead yourself.  Look at me and I will tell you about who I see when I look at you.’

It comes back to what I keep talking and writing about, that what each of us needs more than anything is to be developing the kind of stillness in our relationship with God that we can begin to discern what God is saying to us. 

If you are surrounded by wave after wave of self-condemnation and a general sense of shame, be very cautious of thinking that comes from God.  I don’t think that Jesus is suggesting here that this is how Christians should feel.  I know that some preachers and some of our prayer books sometimes seem to encourage this feeling of, ‘We are all miserable worms’, but to me that is not how the Holy Spirit actually works.  In my experience She does not condemn us, but instead convicts us.  For example when I feel distressed about everything that I am, I know that’s just a general malaise.  But when the Holy Spirit is speaking to me about something that needs to change She will point at a specific action or attitude and said to me, ‘That’s not right.  That’s what we have to work on together.’

So long as we keep comparing ourselves to other people we will miss the truth about ourselves.  If everyone else seems better than you, then you need to see the love on the face of God when God gazes on you.  Look at the face of a parent when they lovingly hold their child in their arms.  Look at that dedication and recognise that the love that comes from God, however we conceive of God, is like that only more so.

And if you look at other people and say in your heart, ‘I am not like them, I’m better than that’, ask yourself why.  Why do you feel the need to say that?  Comparisons with other people, either positive or negative, will get us nowhere.  They will either make us feel awful or full of ourselves.  They will never lead us into truth.
To find the truth out about ourselves, and what needs changing, we need only ask the Author of Truth, and then wait...

Saturday, 12 October 2013

Being changed by gratitude

I've been thinking this week about how mindfully aware am I of what I have.  In a culture where discontent is sown by advertising, it's easy to replace reality with hollow dreams.  First a piece from the Bible to show what I mean:
Luke 17:11-19
On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, ‘Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!’ When he saw them, he said to them, ‘Go and show yourselves to the priests.’ And as they went, they were made clean. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, ‘Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?’ Then he said to him, ‘Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.’

Do you ever consider the grace simply of existing?  I know that sometimes life doesn’t seem worth living, and I know that there are bleak periods when some of us wish that life would simply stop.  But for the most part we are free, if we wish, to step outside, run our fingers through the damp grass and, if we wish, bathe our faces in our dampened hands.  We are free to love and to hold, to feel the rain on our hair, the sun in our face or the wind in our hair.  We can make friends, stroke puppies, read what someone else has written, pluck an apple from a tree, polish a conker or simply look deeply into someone else’s eyes and see the treasure of belonging.

We exist. 

But for any one of us it could have been so different.  When we look at the myriad things that had to fall into place in order for us simply to be here, the consequences are mind-boggling.  Take my own parents for example.  The first time they met there was no spark and no chemistry.  The timing was all wrong.  Had it not been that my father happened to go to the same school as my mother’s cousin it’s quite possible that they wouldn’t have met again.

But they did, and the second time was different.  This time there was a spark, an electricity, a certain something.  Within six weeks they knew they would marry.  That was step number one in place for my existence.  Even then it could have been different.  A bad day at work, an inopportune ‘phone call, a neighbour in need, any one of a myriad of things could have happened differently the night I came into being.  But they didn’t.  And so here I am.  And that’s just my story.  Every one of us have a similar tales in our ancestry.  Every one of us is only here because certain events happened at the right time.

When was the last time you thought about this?  When was the last time you recognised the simple grace in your existence.  It could have been completely different for any one of us.

So how often do we look for grace?  And how much of our lives are marked by gratitude?  Or do we take it in our stride, or think of it as chance, or even think it’s our due?

With that in mind let’s consider the story of the ten lepers.  For most of us it’s a familiar one and sadly, in polite England, most of us get the wrong message from it.  Many of us are brought up in a world of thank you letters, appropriate gratitude for presents and an in-born ability to look down at people who aren’t like us.  So when we see acted out the story of the ten lepers, only one of whom came back to say thank you, our first instinct is often to identify and say, ‘He’s like one of us.  He is a man who knows how to say please and thank you.  What a nice man he must be and so unfortunate to have contracted leperousy.’

But the story is far more rich and deep than that.  In fact St. Luke goes to great pains to show that the leper who said thank you is anything but a part of a group that could be labelled as ‘People like us.’  The bottom line is that the leper here is the ultimate outsider.

First, not to overlook the obvious, he is after all a leper.  He’s forbidden from taking any part in society.  But secondly, and more importantly, Luke says these words, ‘And he was a Samaritan.’  Now to get the gist of that you need to start thinking of the people who our culture, and maybe we ourselves, define as the outsiders.  Actually, I want to go further than call him an outsider.  He was that, but he was more than that; he would be thought of as dirty.  So who does that refer to in our society?  Who is on the current Daily Mail or Daily Telegraph’s most hated list?  Welfare scroungers?  Foreigners (especially ones who dare to get ill whilst they're here?)  Who do you think you might be tainted by coming into contact with?  Anyone of these could count, but the point I’m trying to get over is that the way you feel about that person is probably similar to the way the Jews of that time felt about the Samaritans.

And so St. Luke, in this passage, makes it clear that the one person who comes back to say thank you to Jesus is the one who is least like 'One of Us', however you wish to define that.  The other nine are all obedient to Jesus.  They all do what they are told, what Jesus told them to do.  But the tenth, the Samaritan leper, is overcome by joy.  We don’t know if he ever even got as far as showing himself to a priest.  In fact it seems that in his exuberance he disobeyed Jesus and came straight back.  He has truly seen grace and wants to come back and declare his overwhelming gratitude to Jesus for it.

He is alive!  He has his life back!  All the possibilities that had been taken away have been restored.  What would you give to have been there and seen the look on his face as his body was healed?  And the response that Jesus makes is very telling: Sadly the translation I quoted really doesn’t do it justice.  Jesus doesn’t say, ‘Your faith has made you well.’  The Greek is quite clear.  Jesus says to the man, ‘Your faith has saved you.’ 

The others may have been made whole in their bodies but he had been made whole in his whole self; body, mind and spirit.  He had seen grace and responded to it.  It is his response, from the depths of his being, that shows just how saved he is, just how changed he has become.  This isn’t politeness; this is a man overwhelmed by a tsunami of gratitude for what’s just happened.

So how about us?  Do we see grace?  That day when you went to bed and every bone in your body ached, but the day after you felt just well enough to get up and go.  Was there space there for a deep well of gratitude?  That time when someone phoned at just the right moment, did you see that as grace?  The very fact that your parents got it together at just the right time with just the right elements so that you actually exist - do you see that as grace?

Being grateful to God is not a matter of waiting for the big miracles - it’s a matter of seeing all life as a miracle.  Unfortunately I think we tend to be far more like the other nine lepers.  In fact I would go so far as to draw a comparison between the nine lepers and contemporary churchianity.  These were the people who followed religious practice properly.  They called out to Jesus and he told them to go and show themselves to a priest.  This was the proper action for someone who had been healed from a skin disease according to the Jewish law.  And they did exactly what they were expected to do.

They went to Jesus and then they went to see the priest.  Being healed didn’t make a difference.  They followed the law.  So they were healed on the outside but they weren’t changed by the experience, and this is what worries me sometimes about the experience of church.  It is horribly possible to attend week in and week out because of habit, because it is a part of our routine, and not ever to actually be changed by the experience of encountering Christ.  Our path shouldn't be simply ruled by dogma.

This is one of the reasons why I find it so important to try and make a daily (if possible) space for quiet reflection.  It is in encountering Christ, in sharing in the presence of God, that we can be changed as the Samaritan leper was.  Church going, or whatever spiritual practice we have, should be a response to the relationship we have with God, not the other way around.  If it isn’t, then we are likely to follow the path of the nine lepers. Outwardly we look better but are we inwardly changed?


Sorry there haven't been any posts on here for a while.  Blogger locked me out but that seems to have cleared so this week's ideas coming up soon.

Friday, 16 August 2013

Flawed Heroes

It has always been a bit of a thing in some Christian circles to get someone to come and talk about their conversion.  Usually it's better if it's someone famous, and if they were famous and really bad beforehand, even better.  It's like we need these amazing heroes, people who we can never match up to.
Oh really?......

Hebrews 11:29-12:2

By faith the people [of Israel] passed through the Red Sea as if it were dry land, but when the Egyptians attempted to do so they were drowned. By faith the walls of Jericho fell after they had been encircled for seven days. By faith Rahab the prostitute did not perish with those who were disobedient, because she had received the spies in peace.

And what more should I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets— who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, quenched raging fire, escaped the edge of the sword, won strength out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. Women received their dead by resurrection. Others were tortured, refusing to accept release, in order to obtain a better resurrection. Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned to death, they were sawn in two, they were killed by the sword; they went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, persecuted, tormented— of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground.

Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better so that they would not, without us, be made perfect.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

No More Heroes
The writer of this New Testament letter to the Hebrews, who incidently was not St. Paul, although we don’t know who it actually was, does not make faith easy for us.  He was originally writing to very early Jewish Christians, and because they were Jews long before they were Christians he uses their own stories, stories from the Old Testament, to give them heroes to emulate.  If you read the whole of the chapter he names, amongst others, Abraham, Moses, Rahab, Gideon, Barak, Samson and so on and so on.  And that, I think, is what makes it difficult for us because I think that actually we have a problem with heroes.  In the late 1970's the punk band The Stranglers had a hit with No More Heroes, and that’s illustrates the problem we have.  It’s not that we don’t have heroes, it’s just that they don’t stay heroes for very long.  You see we live in an information age where it’s very difficult to keep secret the private lives of the famous, and so what we find is that all of our heroes turn out to be deeply flawed women and men.  One by one all the people we love and look up to have turned out to be far less perfect than we thought they were.  It’s interesting to watch how sponsors swiftly abandon a sporting star when their errant love-lives or some other aspect of where they don’t live up to expectations are spread across the front pages of the tabloid press.

The most recent example of this was Papiss Cisse, the Newcastle footballer who refused to wear a shirt with the name of their sponsor, the payday loan company Wonga, on it because he felt that money lending to make a profit was usury and was condemned by Islam.  For a short time he was a hero for Muslims for taking a stand, until pictures emerged of him laying bets in a casino.
No more Heroes...

So instead the writer to the Hebrews gives us all these amazing Biblical heroes of faith who we’re supposed to look up to, but the reality is that actually it weighs us down, because we think, ‘Moses?  Abraham?  What’s the point of even trying in the face of those amazing people?’

I don’t know about you but I look at some of my peers who are Christians and they seem to be so holy, so together, such faith-filled and faithful people that it’s easy to feel quite inferior.  And that’s just thinking about the ordinary Christians who I know, never mind these Biblical superheroes.  But we don’t need to feel that way, because actually, far from being superheroes, all these Biblical heroes were also flawed people.  Let me tell you the other side to the stories that the writer to the Hebrews tells.  Abraham tried to pass off his wife as his sister in order to save his skin.  (Actually it was a half-truth, because Sarah was also his half-sister...)  Moses outright refused God’s calling on his life in the first instance, and he was also guilty of murdering an Egyptian. 

Rahab was a prostitute, Barak was actually led by Deborah - she was the real hero (so why didn't she get a mention?); Samson was capable of inhuman cruelty and clearly had a borderline psychotic personality disorder, and so it goes on.

This same idea about flawed heroes even happens with some of the heroes of the Christian faith from the New Testament.  Some people look to St. Paul as a man of resolute faith, yet there are several occasions in scripture when he completely loses his temper with people.  We sanitise some of what he wrote in our English translations but in the original language he got pretty ripe with his retorts to those who criticised him.

Or how about St. Peter?  He was the one about whom Jesus said, ‘You are Peter the Rock, and on this Rock I will build my church.’  What a great hero of the faith!  Yet this was also Peter who went on to publically disown Jesus and lose the courage of his convictions later on when he stopped playing with his non-Jewish Christian friends as soon as some Jewish Christians came along.

Or there’s Mary, Jesus’s mother.  Gentle Mary, who some denominations think of as the encapsulation of what a woman should be like, well at least that’s what some of the men think.  They forget that in John’s Gospel Mary utterly strong-armed Jesus into his first miracle of changing 180 gallons of water into wine at a wedding reception.  A great miracle but when she first suggested he do something Jesus had basically said, ‘Look mother - it’s their problem, not ours.’

Shall I go on?  Our church's patron saint, Mary Magdalene was a raving demoniac, Thomas wouldn’t believe anything unless he saw it with his own eyes, James and John wanted to call fire down out from heaven on anyone who disagreed with Jesus and so on and so on.

Heroes?  Really?

Every single one of the Biblical heroes apart from Jesus was flawed.  And do you know what?  It doesn’t matter.  Or at least it didn’t matter to their faith that they were imperfect people.

The writer to the Hebrews says, ‘Let us lay aside every weight and the sin that easily distracts us.’  Trying to live up to the lives of heroes is a big weight that I think we should be able to lay down.  We look at them and we think, ‘I could never be that good.’  But that’s OK, because neither were they.  All of the heroes that you will ever find in the Bible were flawed people who just did the best that they could and simply kept going.

So what I’m trying to say is simply this: There are many reasons why faith can be tough going.  There are many reasons why people quit their spiritual journeys.  But please don’t let that reason be, ‘I’ve given up because I’m not good enough’.  The only biblical hero who was actually good enough was Christ himself.
The whole point of the Christian message is that actually, we’re not good enough, but he is.  Being a Christian is more or less a person saying to God, ‘When you look at me God, I want you to see Jesus, not me.’

So how do we get around this?  I think we do it by honesty.  I think we need to recognise that the people who look like they are really amazing powerful Christians have just the same struggles and inabilities to cope as the rest of us.  In other words we need each other, and we need to be honest with each other. 

Let us be each other’s heroes because we are ordinary men and women of struggling and faltering faith who are here for each other.  May we never desert someone who is struggling.  Faith is not for superheroes - it’s for ordinary men and women like us. 

Saturday, 10 August 2013

What is this so-called 'Kingdom of God'?

Funerals and death are a part of life.  The hope that most of the people I meet with when planning a funeral is that their loved one is now in heaven, in the Kingdom of God.  But is that all there is to the Kingdom of God?  Is it just 'pie-in-the-sky-when-you-die'?  Or is there more to it than that. 

Luke 12:32-40

Jesus said ‘Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

 ‘Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks. Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them. If he comes during the middle of the night, or near dawn, and finds them so, blessed are those slaves.   ‘But know this: if the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.’

An armful of presents to be dropped
Imagine, if you will, what it’s like to be a child on your birthday in a well-off family.  You’re sitting in the living room and you have your arms literally filled with unopened presents.  And then your parents stand at the door and tell you that they have a really special present for you, but it’s in the dining room.  However the only way you can have that present is to put down all the presents you currently have, but that’s ok because this is better than everything else put together.

Now you don’t know what to do.  Is this present really better than what you already have?  Can’t they bring it to you and place it on the top of the mounds of presents you’re already carrying?  You can’t see it, so you just don’t know.  All you have is their assurance that there is this amazing present which they really want to give to you, but that you can’t have it at the same time as everything else.  You have to put your faith in them that they will deliver what they promise.

That, I think, is the kind of scenario that our Gospel reading places before us.  It begins with Jesus saying, I think with a joyous smile on his face, those reassuring words that God our Father really wants to give us the kingdom of God.  But it’s a bit of an unknown.  It’s clearly something special, but we can’t see what it is.

Then comes the catch.

In order to make room for the kingdom of God, we have to divest ourselves of everything else.  In other words, if you’re going to have this really big present, the kingdom of God, then you have to put down all the other presents that you’re already holding.  So the big question for us this is:

What is this kingdom of God?

You see no one has actually agreed on a definition.  It’s obviously pretty important, but it might help if we could define it.  So let me see if I can do that for you by making some suggestions as to what the Kingdom of God might be.

Perhaps we ought to start not with what the kingdom of God is, but where the kingdom of God is.  That starts out by seeming a little easier because the kingdom of God is also used interchangeably with the phrase the kingdom of heaven.  Heaven, we believe, is the place that is filled with angels and those who have left this world to be in the place where God rules.  And that’s probably the best definition of where heaven is.  It’s the place where God is the king; the reigning monarch.  Now if we look at the stories of the Old Testament we discover that early on in Israel’s existence that country was a theocracy.  That is, unlike other nations it didn’t actually have a physical human king.  God was their king.

In other words early Israel was intended to be an extension of heaven on earth.  Only that didn’t work too well.  Eventually they begged for their own king and from there on in things went downhill.  Their first king, Saul, turned into an unmitigated disaster.  His successor, David, was their most celebrated king, even though he was convicted of adultery.  He was followed by his son, Solomon, who despite his wisdom, gradually led the country into disarray, and civil war.  From then on it got worse.  So the kingdom of God pretty much stayed in heaven.  At least that’s what we thought until Jesus said to his followers, ‘The Kingdom of God is within you.’


What then does it mean to have the kingdom of God within you?  I think it pretty much comes down to this, to live in this life, on this planet, with these people as if you were in a theocracy.  In other words living with God as your monarch and living by God’s rules.  Most of the time people will appreciate that because God’s rules pretty much boil down to loving God with all your energies and loving your neighbour as if they were as important to you as you are.  People who live like that are usually good to be around because they proactively put other people first.  Sometimes, however, they can also be difficult people to have around because they are also willing to tell people when they are being unjust.

The other thing we need to remember is that Jesus also prayed these words in the Lord’s prayer: ‘Your kingdom come.’  In other words there is a kingdom of heaven; we are a part of that kingdom of God in heaven and should be living as such, and our prayer is that one day that kingdom of God will also be on earth.  The kingdom of God therefore has an already-but-not-yet sense to it.  It exists already in heaven, and it exists already within each of us as we try to live out here on earth what it means to be obedient to God.  And one day it will be realised in all its fullness.

So let’s go back to my original picture of the child with an armful of presents.  What makes the kingdom of God so good that we should want to shed everything else for it?  I mean some of you have big houses, expensive cars and second homes.  Why is the kingdom of God so good that we will be willing to divest ourselves of everything else?

You see this is really the big question.  If the kingdom of God is not all that good, why would we be willing to lay everything else down?  What is so good about it?  You may have heard the phrase, ‘Pie in the sky when you die’.  Some people think that the kingdom of God is all about living a good life so that you get to go to heaven.  So this life may be miserable, but that’s OK because it’s worth it to get into the next one.  But for me there is far, far more to it than that.  The kingdom of God being within me, and the decisions that I’ve made to be a part of it has meant that my life has been much more challenging, and consequently fulfilling than it would otherwise have been.  Now I am not in any way some kind of adrenalin junkie.  I’m nervous enough to sometimes be scared of my own shadow, let alone tomorrow.  But I also know that the things that I count dearly in my life, my wife, being a musician, becoming a priest, having a deepening appreciation of the natural world and its spirituality; they can all be traced back to saying yes to the invitation from Christ many years ago to be a part of the kingdom.  Now I am in no way a good citizen of heaven, and thus far this life has had its fair share in difficult struggles, but there is a very real sense that he has kept his promise, and that the present I received has made more of me than I would otherwise have been, even though I probably still have far too much 'stuff'.

So is it worth it?  Is it worth putting down that armful of presents in faith that the one being promised that you can’t see is worth it?  Yes, I would say it is.  It’s worth more than any possessions that rust and rot.  So have a look at what you’ve got and ask what you need and see what the difference is between the two.

But there’s one more thing about this Kingdom of God within us that was pointed out by someone else in a discussion, and it’s the comment Jesus makes about moths being able to destroy treasure.  If you put an expensive garment away in a wardrobe and forget about it, and there happens to be a moth in the wardrobe because you haven’t taken care of it, then the moth will gradually eat away at your expensive garment.  When you take it out, you find it’s ruined - full of holes and worthless.  So it is when we don’t nurture the kingdom of God within us.  It is not enough simply to come here once a week and take the worship out of a closet before sealing it back up again.  This is what Jesus meant about being ready when the kingdom of God is finally revealed.

The kingdom of God on earth should look, as much as we can, like the kingdom of God in heaven.  So the church should be full of people nurturing the kingdom within them and shining with its light.  It’s my belief that the church goes wrong when it starts concentrating on itself, on the institution, rather than on the kingdom of God.

So... is it time to put some, or maybe all of the parcels down to free up some space for an eternal kingdom?  Or is it time to buy something else?