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Sermons for Lent & Easter-tide 2004
As ever, we expect only to carry a few of the homilies preached at St. Cuthbert's - basically if they're fully scripted and submitted for this site. And even these can't convey the context in which they are preached.
So we offer them for a wider readership, but we hope that some of that readership will get the opportunity to experience rather more in our company at St. Cuthbert's.
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The Purpose of Jesus
3rd Sunday of Lent
Sunday 14 March 2004
Rosie Junemann - Evening Prayer
Genesis 28. 10-19a
John 1. 35-51
In spite of a great deal of research over the centuries, the origins of the four gospels are still shrouded in mystery. No-one is quite certain when and where they were written or who wrote them! The Fourth Gospel may have been written by the apostle John, or it may have been written by one or more of his followers, or a mixture of the two. But that doesn’t matter too much because we can be quite certain that the mind and the memory behind the gospel are those of John the apostle. It is thought that the Gospel was written in Ephesus – at the heart of the faith communities established by John - in around 100AD. This was a time when the Christian community faced challenges from many people who opposed its beliefs. John, by this time, would have been a very old man. But perhaps he felt impelled to defend his faith and to reinforce the emerging doctrine of the early church. I’m sure he still reflected on his early experiences and perhaps reminisced with friends about the old days. Perhaps he also felt a need to respond to the questions of his younger followers – people with no first hand experience of Jesus. “What was it like?” a disciple might ask. “What was it like when you first met Jesus face to face?”
This evening’s New Testament reading might be John’s response to that question. Actually, it probably wasn’t the first time that John had met Jesus. It is thought that John was a cousin of Jesus, his mother Salome being Mary’s sister, so John probably knew Jesus quite well. Rather, I think this story is about the first time that John saw Jesus as someone very special.
“Wait a minute”, you might say. “John the apostle isn’t mentioned in this story!”
In fact, John the apostle isn’t mentioned by name anywhere in the Fourth Gospel. He appears either as ‘the disciple whom Jesus loved” or as a kind of mystery man, a quiet witness. In this story there are two disciples with John the Baptist when he points out Jesus – two who follow Jesus. One of these is named as Andrew. The unnamed man is surely John himself.
So, what was it like when John and the other apostles first came face to face with Jesus? John’s account differs from those in the other gospels. In the other three gospels, Jesus calls the disciples while they are fishing, saying, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” They are human stories written about an important and memorable event in someone’s life. John’s version of the story is a bit different. It’s a complex piece of writing, written with a specific purpose in mind. Did you notice that, where Jesus’ call to the disciples in the other gospels was ‘Follow me!’, in John’s Gospel it is ‘Come and see’? ‘See’, in this gospel, has the meaning of ‘understand’. In John chapter 9, Jesus says “I came into this world so that those who do not see may see.” John’s gospel always operates on more than one level. On the one hand there is a factual story; on the other there is an underlying meaning. As William Barclay puts it, John’s Gospel is not so much about who Jesus was, as about what Jesus meant.
So what does John want us to see in this story? The facts are quite simple. John the Baptist pointed out Jesus to Andrew and John. Andrew and John followed him and were invited by Jesus to the place where he was staying. Andrew then brought his brother Simon to meet Jesus and Jesus renamed him Peter. The following day Jesus went to Galilee and met Philip. Philip in turn brought Nathanael to Jesus.
But what of the real purpose of the story?
Firstly, I think what the disciples – and ourselves – are meant to see is not just Jesus the man, Jesus the son of Joseph from Nazareth. John also wants us to see Jesus the God. In this short passage, John refers to Jesus by no fewer than four terms denoting his divinity.
“Look, here is the Lamb of God!” exclaims John the Baptist.
“We have found the Messiah”, says Andrew to his brother Simon.
Nathanael says to Jesus, “You are the Son of God!”
And Jesus refers to himself as the Son of Man, a term which he borrows from the Old Testament scriptures of Ezekiel and Daniel.
These are all titles with strong scriptural associations, denoting glory, holiness, triumph, kingship, sacrifice and salvation. So John clearly intended to deliver a very strong message about the divinity of Jesus.
But I think there’s another level of meaning in this story, too. When John writes of his personal experience of Jesus, we can’t help but be aware of the reality of Jesus the man. In this story Jesus is a physical presence who walks and talks, who needs a place to stay, who has a strong sensitivity to the thoughts and feelings of the people around him. When Simon is brought to Jesus, Jesus looks intently at him, seeing beyond the surface to the inner man who is 'a rock’. Jesus has the insight to understand that Nathanael is a genuine Israelite, a man who is completely faithful to God.
So, from the very beginning, John wants us to know the truth about the incarnation. Jesus is both fully divine and fully human. It is this message which is effectively summarised in the words spoken by Jesus at the end of the passage. “I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man”. In our Old Testament reading, Jacob, in a dream, saw a ladder, or stairway, between heaven and earth, with the angels of God ascending and descending on it. God himself has sought out Jacob and has descended the ladder which leads from heaven to earth in order to stand beside him. Now Jacob’s vision has been transformed into a new vision in which Jesus himself is the link between heaven and earth. God in Jesus, God in human form, has sought us and stands on earth beside us.
Understanding that Jesus is ‘the Man who is God’ is of particular importance in Lent as we turn towards the cross. We can marvel at the mystery of the self-giving God. The God we worship is one who humbled himself, came into our sad world and suffered to save us and to give us the hope of eternal life. At the same time we can take reassurance from the knowledge that the God who made earth and heaven knows what it is like to be human. God knows what it is like to suffer. Some people find it hard to accept that God should suffer. They prefer the vision of a God who is above all that, a wise and serene God who calmly orders the world with compassion. It is likely that this is how the Jews of Jesus’ day perceived God. They struggled with the idea that the crucified Jesus could be the Son of God. But the first Christians were able to perceive in Jesus a God who had chosen to love and to suffer – a God who can be alongside us in our own suffering.
It seems that almost every day we are faced with the suffering of people in the world around us. In the past week are sympathies have been particularly with the people of Madrid. I hope that we and they can find some comfort in the knowledge that God is with us in our pain. I end with some words from the German theologian Jurgen Moltmann, whose own early experience of suffering was the bombing of his home town of Hamburg in July 1943, in which 80,000 people died.
“Christ’s sufferings are not exclusive: they are not just his sufferings. They are inclusive – our sufferings too, and the suffering of the time in which we are living. His cross stands between our crosses, our Brother’s cross, as a sign that God himself participates in our suffering and takes our pain on himself. The God of Jesus Christ is the God who is on the side of the victims and the sufferers, in solidarity with them.”
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The gifts we offer
Fifth Sunday of Lent - Eucharist
Sunday 28 March 2004
Rosie Junemann, Reader
Isaiah 43.16-21
Philippians 3.4b-14
John 12.1-8
Do you remember the story about Winnie-the-Pooh and Eeyore’s birthday?
Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet wanted to give their friend Eeyore some presents for his birthday. Pooh decided to give him a jar of honey. Piglet chose to give him a balloon, and hurried home to get it. Pooh set off for Eeyore’s house. He hadn’t gone more than half way when a funny feeling began to creep over him. It was just as if somebody inside him was saying, “Now then, Pooh, time for a little something.” And without stopping to think what he was doing, Pooh ate the honey. And then, suddenly, he remembered. He had eaten Eeyore's birthday present. “Bother!” said Pooh. And he decided that, washed clean, and with ‘A Happy Birthday’ written on it, the jar itself would make a nice gift.
Meanwhile Piglet was running along from his house to Eeyore’s, clutching his balloon tightly so that it wouldn’t blow away. With his mind on other things, he didn’t look where he was going, caught his foot in a rabbit hole, and fell down flat on his face, bursting the balloon.
When Pooh finally arrived at Eeyore’s house, Piglet was already there. “I’ve brought you a little present” Pooh said. When Eeyore saw the pot he became quite excited. “Why!” he said. “I believe my Balloon will go into that pot.”
“Oh no, Eeyore” said Pooh. “Balloons are much too big to go into pots.”
“Not mine!” said Eeyore proudly. And he picked up the burst balloon, which Piglet had given him, and placed it carefully in the pot.
“I’m very glad,” said Pooh happily, “that I thought of giving you a Useful Pot to put things in”.
“I’m very glad,” said Piglet happily, “that I thought of giving you Something to put in a Useful Pot”.
But Eeyore wasn’t listening. He was taking the balloon out, and putting it back again, as happy as could be ………
I don’t mean to make any comparisons between Pooh, Piglet and Eeyore, and the characters in today’s Gospel reading! I simply tell the story to draw your attention to the gift that is at the heart of this gospel story - the ‘pound of costly perfume’, which Mary brings to Jesus. Here, too, is a well-intentioned gift, but with potential to offend, which is viewed in quite a different light and welcomed by its recipient.
In the gospel story, the context for the giving of the gift was a rather strange dinner party. It took place in Bethany. Bethany is a small village, on the far side of the Mount of Olives, a little less than 2 miles from Jerusalem. It was only six days before the feast of the Passover. Preparations would have been well in hand and the city of Jerusalem would be crowded with people. Jerusalem was not a safe place for Jesus. John, the gospel writer, has already told us that Jesus no longer walked about openly among the Jews. The chief priests, the Pharisees and the Jewish council were plotting to kill him, and had given orders that anyone knowing his whereabouts should tell them. There’s a sense of unrest. Nobody expected Jesus to come to Jerusalem for the festival. But here he is at Bethany, so close to the city.
Bethany was home to Lazarus and his sisters Martha and Mary. They were close friends of Jesus. Now, at this troubled and anxious time, the family were giving a dinner for Jesus. There were a number of people at the table – Jesus, Lazarus, Judas Iscariot (and probably other disciples) - and Martha, the practical sister, was serving them. Mary, the more thoughtful and perceptive sister, brought perfume, anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped them with her hair. Even in the culture of the time this was an unusual and, perhaps, shocking occurrence.
In the Jewish culture, hospitality was very highly regarded. A good host was responsible for the health and welfare of his guests. At the very least he had to provide water for a guest’s feet, oil or ointment for his head, a kiss of welcome, and food, even if it was just bread and water. Foot washing was necessary for both cleanliness and comfort, because of open sandals and dusty roads. If it was provided as a service for a guest, it was generally performed by the meanest slave. Perfumed ointment was widely used in the whole of the ancient Near East. It was soothing and refreshing and was used to reduce chafing and irritation caused by the heat. So perhaps Mary’s act was one of hospitality – an act of care and concern for an honoured guest.
But the aromatic ointment which Mary used was made from spikenard – a herb like valerian, which was imported from the mountains of Northern India and was mainly used in the anointing of the dead. It was a very expensive ointment. Its value of 300 dinarii was the equivalent of nearly a year’s wages for a labourer. And in letting down her hair to wipe Jesus feet, Mary was acting in a manner which many people would have found scandalous. It was a very intense, very personal gesture.
Judas Iscariot was certainly not happy about it! “Why was this perfume not sold for 300 denarii and the money given to the poor?” The gospel writer reminds us that Judas was a traitor and a thief, but you have to remember that this is said with hindsight. At the time, Judas’ question would have seemed quite reasonable to those listening. After all, much of Jesus’ teaching was about compassion for the poor.
But Jesus understood and accepted Mary’s gift in the spirit in which it was intended. It’s a generous gift, an outpouring of Mary’s love for him. Perhaps Mary sensed the danger for Jesus, or foresaw the imminent tragedy. She could have kept the perfume for his burial. Instead, she lavished it on him now as a spontaneous expression of her devotion. And in anointing his feet, rather than his head, and wiping them with her hair, she humbled herself before him.
There is an analogy here, which is important to all of us, as Good Friday approaches and we consider the cross and all it means for us. Because, on the cross, God humbled himself and gave us his most generous gift.
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”
In today’s Old Testament reading, the prophet Isaiah declares:
“Thus says the Lord……
I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs forth do you not perceive it?”
Like a smooth road through the rough wilderness, or a river of water in the arid desert sand, God’s ‘new thing’ is a gift of extraordinary generosity. Through the suffering and death of his Son on the cross, the gift of eternal life is given to God’s people. In this is the outpouring of God’s love for us.
So, what is our response to God’s great and generous gift? Is a polite ‘thank you’ enough in the circumstances? Are we, like Eeyore, ‘as happy as can be’? Are we generous and loving in our response, as Jesus was to Mary? Or is something much more demanded of us? For the apostle Paul, the cross demands everything. “Whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of Christ.” The cross demands a fresh start. Forget the past, forget ‘what lies behind’, and press on with the new life, ‘straining forward to what lies ahead’. The cross is a turning point, a turning point for mankind, and a turning point for each one of us, personally.
William Barclay, writing of today’s gospel story, says: “Mary took the most precious thing she possessed and spent it all on Jesus. Love is not love if it nicely calculates the cost. It gives its all and its only regret is that it has not still more to give.”
When we stand at the foot of the cross, can this be our goal, too? To give and not to count the cost. God has given us so many gifts. Could we take the most precious thing we have – our hands, our feet, our talents, our money, our time, our service, our lives - and spend it all on Jesus?
Because God gave his only Son to suffer and die for us.
And that is the greatest gift of all!
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The rejected stone
Palm Sunday - Evening Prayer
Sunday 4 April 2004
Rosie Junemann, Reader
Isaiah 5.1-7
Luke 20.9-19
If you were here the last time I preached at Evening Prayer, you may remember that I started by saying that, in spite of a great deal of research over the centuries, the origins of the four gospels are still shrouded in mystery. No-one is quite certain when and where they were written or who wrote them. On that occasion we were looking at John’s Gospel. This evening our New Testament reading is from Luke’s Gospel. In this case we can be fairly certain that the author of the gospel was Luke, a Syrian from Antioch, who was a doctor and an early companion to Paul. It is believed that the gospel was written in Antioch. But there is much less certainty about the date of its composition. Scholars deduce that it was written in about 80AD, some 50 years after the death of Jesus. It is important to bear this in mind as we consider today’s reading. The passage has something to tell us about Jesus, and people’s reactions to him in his lifetime, but it also has something to tell us about the concerns of the early church at the time when Luke was writing.
In this evening’s reading, Jesus is teaching the people in the temple, in the presence also of the chief priests and scribes and elders. He tells the parable of the vineyard. A man planted a vineyard and leased it to tenants and went away to another country. He sent three slaves in succession to claim his share in the produce of the vineyard. Each time the tenants beat the slaves and sent them away with nothing. Finally he sent his beloved son. The tenants threw him out of the vineyard and killed him.
“Now”, asks Jesus. “What will the owner of the vineyard do to them? He will come and destroy those tenants and give the vineyard to others."
Everyone listening to Jesus would have understood only too well that the owner stood for God, the vineyard for Israel and the tenants for Israel’s rulers. The slaves, or messengers, are the prophets who have been disregarded, persecuted and killed. As we heard earlier, the prophet Isaiah had used exactly the same imagery to convey God’s punishment for his unfaithful people. Now Jesus gives much the same message. When God’s beloved Son is rejected and killed, Israel and its leaders will come under God’s judgement. God will destroy Israel and will show his favour to others. No wonder the listening crowd cry out “Heaven forbid!”
I said earlier that when we read the gospels it is important to consider the context in which they were written. It’s also important to remember that they were written for a purpose. Reading the same story in each of the four gospels is a bit like reading the same news story in four different newspapers. There’s always a slightly different ‘spin’! It’s often that ‘spin’ that tells us something about the gospel writer’s intentions. The parable of the vineyard can also be found in Mark’s gospel. For the most part the two accounts are identical. In both accounts Jesus follows the parable with a question. “What then does this text mean?” or “Have you not read this scripture?” Then he quotes from Psalm 118: “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone”.
But Luke’s version differs in that he adds a further text. “Everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.” This is actually a combination of two scriptural references. Firstly, Isaiah 8. 14-15 “The Lord will become a sanctuary, a stone one strikes against; for both houses of Israel he will become a rock one stumbles over – a trap and a snare for the inhabitants of Jerusalem. And many among them shall stumble; they shall fall and be broken; they shall be snared and taken.” And secondly, Daniel 2.44 “..the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that shall never be destroyed, nor shall this kingdom be left to another people. It shall crush all these kingdoms and bring them to an end, and it shall stand for ever.”
Here’s what Tom Wright has to say about the verse from Psalm 118:
“Imagine a builder’s yard, full of stone ready for the great task. The workers are sorting out the lumps of marble and granite into different shapes and sizes, so they can haul them up to their places on the wall. There is one stone that doesn’t belong in any of the groups; they put it over by itself, expecting to throw it out when the job is done. But when they have almost finished, they discover that they need a stone of a particular shape for the very last piece, to round off the top of the corner. There is the stone they rejected earlier. It wouldn’t fit anywhere else, but it will fit here.”
And not only that. The cornerstone, or keystone, is the stone which unites two intersecting walls, or is the central stone at the top of an arch. The cornerstone is not just another building block. It is unique and supremely important.
The parable of the vineyard tells us that Jesus had some insight into his own role and destiny. He is the Messiah, the Son of God. He will be rejected and killed. Jesus knew that to some he was a ‘stumbling block’. In their encounter with Jesus many will fall and be broken. But Jesus also knew that he would become the ‘cornerstone’, the founder of God’s new kingdom, the kingdom that will stand forever.
But the scriptural references which Luke quotes here also tell us something about the early church, for whom they seem to have had a particular significance. In fact, exactly the same combination of texts is quoted in Peter’s first Letter, and the image of the cornerstone is used by Paul in his Letter to the Ephesians. Both letters were written at about the same time as Luke’s Gospel. Both Peter and Paul ask their readers to think of themselves of ‘living stones’ or ‘members of the household of God’, becoming part of a ‘spiritual house’ or ‘a dwelling place for God’ – the new temple, of which Jesus Christ is the cornerstone. For some years after the death of Jesus, Jewish Christians – and some Gentile Christians - continued to worship in the Jewish synagogues, and those in Jerusalem still used the Temple. As time went on a debate emerged within the church. Many Gentile Christians felt that the Jewish rituals were irrelevant to them and that the temple was now redundant. And in 70AD, the Temple itself was destroyed by the Romans. So there was a very great need –on both counts - for the church to create a ‘new temple’. The Epistle of Barnabas, a slightly later piece of Christian writing, declares:
“You see, the destruction of the man-made Temple did not mean that there can be no temple of God at all. Of course there can! The prophet Daniel tells us that ‘when the week draws to a close a glorious temple of God will be built in his Name’. So there will be a new temple, a new one, built in the Name of the Lord.”
In early Christian writings, there is a persistent emphasis on the ‘new’. The ‘new temple’, the ‘new kingdom’, - these are the images used to describe and promote the emerging church. And these images are drawn from the promises of God in the Jewish scriptures, the promises we heard earlier: “the Lord will become a sanctuary”; “the God of heaven will set up a new kingdom”. Jesus himself is to be the living foundation stone, the church His new creation. Jesus himself is to be the living cornerstone, uniting Jewish and Gentile Christians, holding together those ‘living stones’ who are now both geographically dispersed and spiritually diverse.
There is no need to labour the point. The image of Christ as the cornerstone of our faith and of the Church is at least as important today as it was two thousand years ago. We are even more widely dispersed, more culturally and spiritually diverse -–and just as prone to argument! We must turn to Jesus, and keep turning to Jesus, if the Church is to survive. I end by reading you a short story by way of illustration...
(Read ‘Sacred space’ from The Lion Christian Meditation Collection Pg. 203)
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3rd Sunday of Easter
Sermon for Evening Prayer
Sunday 25 April 2004
Rosie Junemann, Reader
Psalm 86
Isaiah 38.9-20
John 11. 27-44
In Grimm’s Fairy Tales there is a story about a giant, travelling one day along a great highway, when he is suddenly surprised by a man springing up before him and crying “Halt!” “How dare you”, responds the giant. “I could crush you between my fingers”. “I am Death” answered the other, “and no-one resists me”. But the giant refused to obey and began to struggle with Death. After a long, violent battle the giant got the upper hand, struck Death down, and went on his way. The next person to come along the road was a strong and healthy young man. When he saw the man who had been struck down he went to him and gently tended to him. “Do you know who I am?” asked the wounded man, when he revived. “I am Death. I spare no-one and can make no exception for you. But because I am grateful to you, I promise that I will send my messengers to you to forewarn you before I come and take you away”. The young man continued on his way light-heartedly and enjoyed himself and lived without thought. But youth and health didn’t last long. He became sick and was tormented by pain by day and night. When he recovered, he again began to live merrily. One day someone tapped him on the shoulder. He looked round and Death stood behind him, saying “Follow me. The hour of your departure from this world has come”. “But you said you would send your messengers first to warn me” replied the man. “I have sent one messenger to you after another,” said Death. “I have sent fever and dizziness, gout and tooth-ache, to smite you and cast you down. And my own brother Sleep has reminded you of me every night.” The man could make no answer. He yielded to his fate and went away with Death.
I’m afraid that is a rather grim and dour moral tale! But is does serve the purpose of illustrating the very real fear of death which people have experienced from the earliest times, and the efforts that people will go to, to escape or fend off the inevitable.
Tonight’s New Testament story of Lazarus being brought back to life must therefore have a very special significance for everyone who hears it. It’s not the only story in the Gospels in which Jesus brings someone back to life. In the other two accounts – Jairus’ daughter in Mark’s Gospel, and the son of the widow of Nain in Luke’s Gospel – both of the people had just died. But Lazarus had been dead for four days. In Jewish belief, after the third day following a death, the soul ceases to hover over the body. Decay would certainly have set in and death was complete. So the raising of Lazarus was seen – and still can be seen – as the most powerful of the miracles or ‘signs’ of Jesus. For some who witnessed it, it was the sign which brought them to faith in Jesus as Messiah and Lord. For others, it was the sign which made them so fearful of his power and influence that they planned to put him to death.
The story of the raising of Lazarus is, in itself, rather a grim and dour tale! To go back to the beginning of the story, Jesus was in a place of relative safety, at a distance from Jerusalem, across the river Jordan. News came to him that Lazarus was ill. But, although Jesus loved his friends Mary and Martha and their brother Lazarus, he delayed setting out for two days. By the time he arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. Many people had come to console Martha and Mary in their loss. According to the custom of the day, as many people as possible would come to the funeral. Deep mourning lasted for seven days, of which the first three were days of weeping. You may recently have seen Middle Eastern funerals on the television news. They are not quiet affairs! Everyone cries and wails and there is loud music. So Jesus would have arrived into a crowded, noisy household where everyone was intent on a public showing of grief. Though Martha expressed her faith and hope that Jesus would be able to help them, Mary was inconsolable in her grief. Jesus himself was greatly troubled. He began to weep, too. At the entrance to the tomb, the terrifying reality of the death is brought home to us. "Already there is a stench because he has been dead for four days”, declared Martha. But the stone was moved away. You can imagine everyone watching with horror as Jesus called “Lazarus, come out!” And then the dead man walked out from the tomb, wrapped in the same burial cloths in which he had been bound four days earlier. As Tom Wright describes it: “a heart-stopping moment of shuddering horror and overwhelming joy, mixed together like dark mud and liquid gold.”
In John’s Gospel, the story of the raising of Lazarus serves a number of different purposes. Firstly, it is a ‘sign’, or miracle, which demonstrates that God has given power over life and death to His Son. John has already told his readers in Chapter 5: “For just as the Father has life in himself, so he has granted the Son also to have life in himself”. Jesus’ call to Lazarus is a fulfillment of his earlier words: “Do not be astonished at this for the hour is coming when all who are in their graves will hear the voice of the Son of God and will come out”.
Secondly, it serves as an illustration of the fifth of the ‘I am’ sayings of Jesus – those sayings which in John’s Gospel reveal to us the meaning of God in Jesus. Jesus has already said: “I am the bread of life”; “I am the light of the world”; “I am the door”; “I am the good shepherd”. Now, just before the point at which we picked up the story in tonight’s reading, Jesus has declared to Martha: ” I am the resurrection and the life”. Jesus himself is the means by which death is defeated, by which believers can come to new life.
And, thirdly, the story of the raising of Lazarus points towards the death and resurrection of Jesus himself. But here there is an important difference. Lazarus came back into ordinary human life. For him, the process of death was simply reversed. One day he would die. But the journey Jesus would make would be through death and out into a new sort of life.
And it is here that the story of the raising of Lazarus takes on a new significance for us. Because the message of the Gospel is not another grim and dour tale! It’s a story of rich and abundant life. God has demonstrated his divine power over death not only in this sign but more especially in the resurrection of Christ. The resurrection of Christ carries with it the resurrection of believers. As Paul writes: “as by a man came death, by a man came also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive”.
But our new life in Christ is not only about life after death. It’s also about a new way of living here and now. One of the images which scripture uses to describe that ‘new life’ is that of rebirth. We must be ‘born again, not of the flesh but of the Spirit’, Jesus tells Nicodemus. ‘You have been born anew, through the living and enduring word of God’ writes Peter in his first letter. What this means for us as Christians is vividly described in an eighteenth century sermon written by John Wesley, and I make no apology for ending by reading what he has to say.
“Before a child is born into the world he has eyes, but sees not; he has ears, but does not hear. He has a very imperfect use of any other sense. He has no knowledge of any of the things of the world, or any natural understanding. To that manner of existence which he then has, we do not even give the name of life. It is then only when a man is born, that we say he begins to live. For as soon as he is born he begins to see the light, and the various objects with which he is encompassed. His ears are then opened, and he hears the sounds which successively strike upon them. At the same time, all the other organs of sense begin to be exercised upon their proper objects. He likewise breathes, and lives in a manner wholly different from what he did before. How exactly doth the parallel hold in all these instances! While a man is in a mere natural state, before he is born of God, he has, in a spiritual sense, eyes and sees not; a thick impenetrable veil lies upon them: he has ears, but hears not; he is utterly deaf to what he is most of all concerned to hear. His other spiritual senses are all locked up: he is in the same condition as if he had them not. Hence he has no knowledge of God; no intercourse with Him; he is not at all acquainted with Him. He has no true knowledge of the things of God, either of spiritual or eternal things; therefore, though he is a living man, he is a dead Christian.
But as soon as he is born of God, there is a total change in all these particulars. The “eyes of his understanding are opened”; and he sees “the light of the glory of God”, and His glorious love “in the face of Jesus Christ”. His ears being opened, he is now capable of hearing the inward voice of God, saying “Be of good cheer. Thy sins are forgiven thee. Go and sin no more.” He feels, is inwardly sensible of, the graces which the Spirit of God works in his heart. He feels, he is conscious of, “a peace which passeth all understanding”. He many times feels such a joy in God as is “unspeakable and full of glory”. He feels “the love of God shed abroad in his heart by the Holy Ghost which is given unto him”; and all his spiritual senses are then exercised to discern spiritual good and evil. By the use of these, he is daily increasing in the knowledge of God, of Jesus Christ whom he hath sent, and of all the things pertaining to His inward kingdom. And now he may be properly said to live: God having quickened him by His Spirit, he is alive to God through Jesus Christ. He lives a life which the world knoweth not of, a “life which is hid with Christ in God”. God is continually breathing, as it were, upon the soul; and his soul is breathing unto God. Grace is descending into his heart; and prayer and praise ascending to heaven; and by this intercourse between God and man, this fellowship with the Father and the Son, as by a kind of spiritual respiration, the life of God in the soul is sustained; and the child of God grows up, till he comes to “the full measure of the stature of Christ”.
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Rogation Sunday
Sermon for the Sixth Sunday of Easter
Sunday 16 May 2004
Rosie Junemann, Reader
Have you ever heard of ‘rammalation biscuits’ and ‘ganging beer’? No? Well, don’t worry! Until about two weeks ago, neither had I!
According to folklore, ‘rammalation biscuits’ and ‘ganging beer’ were handed out to people who took part in the traditional Rogation Sunday processions, popularly known as ‘Beating the bounds’. Today is the Sixth Sunday of Easter but it’s also Rogation Sunday. I recently realised how little I knew about Rogation Sunday, so I’ve been doing a bit of homework!
The name Rogationtide, or Rogantide, derives from the Latin word ‘rogatio’, to intercede, ask or beseech. It’s traditionally a time when prayers are made for God’s blessing on the land, farm animals, and crops, in the hope of a good harvest. There was an ancient Roman festival called the ‘robigalia’ in which people went through their fields and prayed to the gods to protect their crops. As Christianity spread through Europe the festival continued, but with a Christian focus, and it was adopted by the Church in the late Middle Ages. The fifth Sunday after Easter was fixed in the liturgical calendar as Rogation Sunday, and the following three days, leading up to Ascension Day, as Rogation Days. In England, by the 8th century, it was common practice on Rogation Sunday for parishioners to follow the cross, and the priest, in a procession around the parish boundaries, stopping at intervals to pray and invoke God’s blessing. Along the way prominent trees often became places for preaching. These were sometimes known as Gospel Oaks or Gospel Thorns. Other landmarks along the boundaries were noted as places for prayer or bible reading. You may have heard, for example, of places named ‘Amen Corner’, ‘Luke Stone’ or ‘Epistle Field’. Stone crosses were sometimes erected at intersections with other parishes.
In the 17th century, the country priest and poet, George Herbert, noted four good reasons for this ‘beating of the bounds’. Firstly, it called on God’s blessing for a good harvest. By marking and preserving boundaries it also established justice. It promoted charity, by encouraging people to walk and talk together and reconcile their differences. It enabled mercy, in liberal giving for the relief of the poor.
The practice of beating the bounds is still maintained in some areas, either as a secular festival, like the May Day riding of the bounds in Berwick-on-Tweed, or as a church activity, especially in country parishes. It provides an opportunity to celebrate God’s creation and God’s care for us. In an age when there are great concerns about the environment and agriculture, Rogationtide can help us to focus on the needs of farmers, and others who have an interest in the countryside. This year, we are asked to pray especially for migrant seasonal workers in rural areas. But above all, the ‘beating the bounds’ procession can give people a stronger sense of their identity as a community, and a stronger sense of place. Boundaries - whether geographical, social or emotional - are important because they help us to feel safe, to identify who we are and where we belong.
But there are times when it’s important not to stay within safe limits. In today’s Gospel, we hear how Jesus himself flouted Jewish law and came into conflict with the Jewish authorities. The Rabbis had so redefined and distorted the old Jewish law that they had identified no less than 39 different classes of ‘work’ which were unlawful on the sabbath. The punishment for breaking the law could be death. And yet Jesus had no hesitation in healing a sick man on the sabbath, nor in commanding him to break the law, too, by picking up and carrying his mat.
The story clearly contrasts the hopelessness of a man who has lain helpless by the pool of Bethzatha for 38 years, with the power of Jesus to give instant and complete healing. And it also contrasts the inadequacy of the old law, with the new law of love and compassion which Jesus brought. God’s work in sustaining and caring for his creation never ceases.
Learning to cast aside old constraints in order to further God’s new kingdom of love was also very much a part of the life of the early church. There would be no Christian Church today if the disciples had been content to remain within safe limits! For the past six Sundays we have been hearing stories of the earliest days of the Church from the Acts of the Apostles. First, we heard about the apostle Peter talking to the Gentile Cornelius at his home in Caesarea. God, we learn, does not recognise ethnic and racial boundaries. Peter said “God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him”.
On the Second Sunday of Easter, our reading from Acts delivered a clear message about the limits of secular government when Peter and the other apostles declared “We must obey God rather than any human authority”.
Next, Saul, enlightened by his encounter with the risen Christ on the road to Damascus, turned away from his old religious tradition to follow Christ.
On the Fourth Sunday of Easter, we heard how, in bringing Tabitha back to life, Peter demonstrated God’s power over natural law, over the boundaries of life and death.
Last week we heard how Peter learned that it was God’s will that the boundary between Jew and Gentile should be broken down. “God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life”.
And today we have heard how Paul, commanded by God to cross the Aegean Sea into Europe, transcended geographical boundaries – a major step forward in the achievement of his desire to spread the good news of Jesus throughout the Roman empire.
The Gospel of Christ came to us by people of great courage – people who were not afraid to cross boundaries and borders, who were not afraid to challenge the perceived wisdom of their day.
Martin Luther King once said: “The ultimate measure of a person is not where they stand in moments of comfort and convenience, but where they stand at times of challenge and controversy”. Being the Church in the 21st century isn’t about sitting on the sidelines of society - isn’t about being a place or a people of quiet, peaceful reflection. It’s about taking a stand when human authority is at odds with God’s authority – when people need to be reminded of God’s law of love and compassion.
I didn’t have to look very far in the news of the past week to find some examples of Christians sticking their necks out in pursuit of their faith.
A roadshow carrying the statue of Our Lady of Wolsingham has recently visited secular locations throughout England and Wales, including Pentonville Prison, Gatwick Airport and a shopping complex in Norwich. The purpose of the roadshow was to draw people’s attention to Mary, pointing to her son Jesus, in whom the world can find light and peace and love. The roadshow met with wild enthusiasm in a few places, but with indifference or hostility in others. The organiser, Father North, declared: “This is a symbol of what the Church should be doing. It’s just getting out of the safe places with the Christian message.”
Paula Jacobs, an American living in Surrey, is this week promoting another national roadshow. This one, imported from America, and highly successful there, is called ‘The Silver Ring Thing’. The UK has the second highest rate (after America) of teenage pregnancy, birth and abortion in the industrialised world, and has seen a steep rise in sexually transmitted diseases. Against this background, ‘The Silver Ring Thing’, a Christian initiative open to people of all faiths, urges teenagers to abstain from sex before marriage and to wear a silver ring in token of their commitment.
Brian Haw is a man who takes his Christian responsibility very seriously. For nearly three years – day and night, in all weathers – he has lived on the pavement outside the Houses of Parliament, looking after a 60-foot long display of placards protesting against the brutality of war. His central message is 'peace on earth, goodwill to all". Brian has received no support from Westminster Abbey or other local churches. Giles Fraser, reporting the story in this week’s Church Times, suggests, “Too often, Christians are thwarted by the silent voice of an establishment that urges caution in the name of influence”.
Relationships with family, friends and neighbours, the safety and comfort of our homes, the prosperity of our communities, the produce from our fields and farms – these are all things that are important to us. And we rightly ask God’s blessing on them at this Rogationtide. But God wants us to think ‘outside of the box’ too. Like the apostles, we must be ready to be impartial, to seek peace for the peoples of every nation, to welcome the stranger in our midst. We must be willing to challenge human authority when it runs counter to the authority of God. We must accept that things are not necessarily right because that’s the way they have always been. Clinging to history and tradition might prevent us from carrying the Gospel forwards for the people of future generations.
On this Rogation Sunday let us ask God’s blessing on our parish and community. But let’s pray, too, for the courage to look outwards, to reach out to the wider world, and to take a stand as Christians in that world.
And, by the way, if anyone finds out more about ‘rammalation biscuits’ and ‘ganging beer’, let me know. Maybe they can replace after-church tea and coffee this time next year!
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An Easter-tide Address
Sunday 16 June 2004
Sixth Sunday of Easter - Evening Prayer
Paul Heatherington, Reader-in-Training
Matthew 28. 1-10, 16-20
The Times regularly runs anniversary stories. These are extracts from Wednesday’s Times (12 May 2004 p 16):
The House of Lords were proceeding with the reading of some private Bills, when a bustling noise, as of a number of people in confusion, was heard out of doors… Presently a cry was heard, “Mr Perceval shot, Mr Perceval shot”. A gentleman…rushed in, in the utmost agitation and alarm. The account he gave was that… a pistol was fired at Mr Perceval who …staggered two or three paces, fell on his side, and then rolled over on his face. The officer said he believed “Mr Perceval was dead”.
No doubt could be now entertained as to Mr Perceval having been shot at; but a gleam of hope could still have appeared, that he might have only been severely, not mortally, wounded. Some of the Lords, upon the first mention of the circumstances, had rushed out to ascertain the fact: they were now followed by most of the rest, hardly any except the Lord Chancellor and three of the Bishops remaining.
The Lords who had gone out at length began to return. The eyes of those who remained were riveted on the countenance of him who first approached, and hope vanished.
“The eyes of those who remained were riveted on the countenance of him who first approached, and hope vanished.” Those words evoke a very English stiff upper lip approach to a tragic murder. The headline for The Times story was, “Hope dies in Parliament”. Does this story ring any bells? Were this to be a pub quiz, you would get full marks for knowing that that Spencer Perceval held the most important public office in the country. He was shot on 11 May 1812 in the lobby of the House of Commons. A British Prime Minster, the leader of one of the most powerful nations on earth – especially then – was assassinated and few now know or care, except perhaps for students of early 19th century Britain or pub quiz experts. It must be admitted that Spencer Perceval’s greatest claim to fame is that he is the only British Prime Minister ever to have been assassinated… so far.
Each of us is a unique individual…just like the six billion other people on this planet! The Ode to the Indispensable Man illustrates that none of us is indispensable. The poem tells us that when we feel important and we feel our going would leave an unfillable hole, we should follow these simple instructions and see how it humbles our soul. [Visual aid with bucket of water]
Take a bucket and fill it with water
Put your hand in it up to the wrist
Pull it out and the hole that's remaining
Is the measure of how you'll be missed.
You may splash all you please when you enter
You can stir up the water galore
But stop, and you'll find in a minute
That it looks quite the same as before.
Now let me turn to a person born to a peasant, in a village. He was brought up in another village, where he worked in a carpenter’s shop. He had no formal qualifications. He did not go to university. He held no public office. He had no children. All his life was spent within a couple of hundred miles from where he was born. At the age of thirty he became a travelling preacher. After three years, public opinion turned against him. His friends ran away. He was handed to his enemies. A travesty of a trial convicted him. He was put to death, nailed to a tree between two insurrectionists. His only earthly belongings were his clothes. His executioners gambled for them, as he hung, dying on the cross. He was laid in a borrowed tomb.
No earthly king, no armed force known to the world, no parliament, no one on earth and certainly no British prime minister, has had such an effect on humankind as this one single life. Nearly two thousand years have elapsed and this man is still remembered. This is the sixth Sunday after Easter. The Easter message is not just a seasonal message. It is a message for today and every day. Using St Paul’s words, we repeatedly say, “Christ has died. Christ has risen. Christ will come again.” All hope lies in Christ and it comes by trusting in him alone. Through Christ, Christians are promised a glorious future beyond death. The Gospels are the evidence for this.
The mystery of the death of Jesus and his resurrection is central to the Gospel reading tonight. The word ‘gospel’ comes from an old Anglo Saxon word ‘god-spell’, meaning ‘good tidings’. The essential purpose of the Gospels and the other books in the New Testament is to provide us with the foundation of faith. Eyewitness accounts of the risen Jesus give us the proof that Jesus appeared to many people. Peter, James and Paul are just three examples. Peter, Jesus’ friend who abandoned him; James, the brother of Jesus who didn’t believe in him and Paul, then of course called Saul. He did not just NOT believe in Jesus, he was convinced that he was working for God when he actively persecuted Jesus’ followers. These are three men to whom Jesus appeared; three men who hurt Jesus and whom we know Jesus forgave, because he appeared to each of them after the resurrection. But there is a further person with a wholly unique place in Christianity’s history. A person who had a major role in the most powerful and vital scenes in the Gospels. A person who was there at the beginning of a movement that transformed the World. That person was Mary Magdalene. In Lloyd-Webber & Rice’s musical Jesus Christ Superstar the song “I Don't Know How To Love Him” is Mary's big moment. Mary tries to come to terms with her feelings for the man she has grown to love. [Played an extract of one verse from CD]
So who is Mary Magdalene? A married woman would have carried her husband's name, so the name Mary 'of Magdala' suggests she was unmarried. She is never described as being a widow, nor is she ever said to have any children. In religious art, she's either half-naked, or an outcast, alone in the wilderness, repenting her sins. She seems to be best known as a prostitute.
The stories of those who fall and who Jesus later redeems tell us that no matter how low we fall, we can be redeemed through Jesus. That is the helpful message to all of us sinners, drawn from the lives of Peter, James and Paul. What about Mary Magdalene? The truth is that Mary Magdalene’s image and the facts are quite different stories. Mary’s name suggests that she came from a town called Magdala, 120 miles north of Jerusalem on the Sea of Galilee. The New Testament and Jewish texts refer to a place named Magdala Tarichaea. Magdala is said to mean “tower”, and Tarichaea means “salted fish”, so its full name might be the tower of salted fish. Perhaps Mary may have worked in the fish markets. A Jewish text tells that God destroyed Magdala because of its fornication. The idea that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute may have its genesis in Magdala being described as a place of fornication.
All of the gospels mention Mary Magdalene. None say she was a prostitute or a sinner. Mary Magdalene has been confused with two other women in the Bible: Mary, the sister of Martha and the woman who bathed the feet of Jesus with her tears and dried them with her hair. She was the sinner who Luke in his gospel does not name.
The responsibility for the negative image of Mary Magdalene is down to Pope Gregory the Great, from a sermon he preached in the sixth century. Mary Magdalene’s reputation as the penitent sinner was later cleared by the Roman Catholic Church, but that was not until 1969. By then the damage had been done. Her former reputation lingers. Give a dog a bad name, as the saying goes…
The truth is that when Jesus is crucified by the Romans, Mary Magdalene is there supporting him in his concluding horrifying moments. Can you imagine Mary Magdalene near the cross? Can you imagine her eyes riveted on the countenance of Jesus? Can you imagine her feeling that all hope had vanished?
Now picture this scene. The Sabbath which lasts from dusk to dawn is ending. In our terms it’s Sunday. We know the story. We have heard it read to us dozens of times. We have read it ourselves. Try to forget that.
The Gospel reading was from St Matthew. Tonight Matthew we’re going to be Mary Magdalene!
Take a moment and close your eyes. Think of yourself as Mary Magdalene. Can you imagine the situation as you mourn the death of your Master and your friend? What do you feel deep inside? Think of the truly incredible events you have experienced as you have accompanied Jesus on his travels, the words he spoke, those he has healed, the huge crowds. Can you now imagine the darkness before the dawn? You are walking with the other Mary to the tomb in which the body of Jesus was placed? How are you feeling? Do you have a feeling of emptiness inside you, a nagging void, a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach? Have you actually been physically sick? What are you thinking? Are you just numb all over? You are clearly not immobilised; you have more things to do for your dead friend and Master.
Are you a realist? Are your feet on the ground? Will the thought of resurrection have fleetingly entered your mind? Maybe it did. Jesus had raised Jairus's daughter from the dead as well as Lazarus. But you know people die. And you know how Jesus had been tortured. You know first-hand that he was nailed to a cross and that he had died before your very eyes.
You approach the tomb. Suddenly there is an earthquake. An angel appears and tells you that Jesus is risen. Are you dreaming? How do you respond? Matthew says you and the other Mary “left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy.” Run! Is your heart beating fast? Fear and great joy experienced simultaneously – when does that happen? The mind’s clash of thoughts of fear and joy in those about to marry is perhaps one example.
You now come face to face with Jesus. Look at Jesus. He is now free from the pain that permeated his body. You fall to the ground and take hold of Jesus’s feet. You are the first witness to the resurrection. With your eyes riveted on the countenance of the risen Jesus, your despair vanishes.
Please open your eyes if you wish.
As Matthew ends his Gospel, he relates that the eleven disciples are told to make disciples of all nations. In particular the disciples are told to baptise in the name of the Trinity and to teach. Against the background of the events leading up to and following the crucifixion of Jesus, this command must have frightened the disciples. Jesus seems to sense the unspoken thoughts and fears of the disciples. He assures the eleven that they will not be alone in the tasks he sets for them. And neither are we. Jesus is with us. In him we find direction in our lives and that applies whatever difficulties we face and whatever stage we are in our lives. Easter calls us to move into the future with Jesus without fear and in great joy.
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