Loving our enemies

Midweek sermon:  Luke 6:27-36

This reading is part of what’s sometimes called ‘the Sermon on the Level Place’, and it has both similarities and differences to Matthew’s ‘Sermon on the Mount’.  Luke’s version of the sermon is only ¼ the length of Matthew’s, and just prior to this sermon, in Luke 6:12-16, Jesus is on a mountain where the twelve disciples have been called from a larger group of disciples and given a new title by Jesus: they are now Apostles.  They then go down to a level place where Jesus delivers his sermon to the crowd. 

We see from verses 17-19, the crowd that makes up Jesus’ audience consists of three groups of people:  a very large crowd of disciples, his twelve newly ordained Apostles, and a great number of people from all over Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon.  So the people listening to Jesus are a diverse group of Jews and Gentiles, many who were troubled with diseases and evil spirits, who came to hear him and be healed. 

The section of the sermon that we’ve heard this morning begins with Jesus saying, “Love your enemies”, and the same phrase is repeated at its close in verse 35.  This part of the sermon is made up of principles that Jesus requests his followers to live by:  do not reciprocate, retaliate, or sink down to the level of your enemy; do not re-act, but act according to the principles of love, forgiveness and generosity, for these are the principles of the Kingdom. 

The Golden Rule is in here, too, verse 31: “Do to others as you would have them do to you”.  The world seems to want to re-interpret that as “Do to others as you have been done by”.  Retaliation is the expected norm.  It’s as if we can’t fight against Newton’s laws of motion which apply to mechanics – Newton’s third law states “To every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction...” 

So how can we fight against our worldly inclination to sink down to the level of our enemy?  At this point I have to say that I can’t think of anyone who I would call my personal enemy.  But I have known people who haven’t liked me, and there have been people who I haven’t liked, but I don’t think I would go so far as to call any of them my enemy. 

I have heard and read stories of people who have had serious enemies, though.  We have probably all heard stories of people who’ve been mistreated, abused or even killed.  The actions of enemies of this kind can be categorised as racism, genocide, child abuse, paedophilia, domestic violence, bullying, discrimination –I’m sure we could all think of other categories of wickedness and evil.  And we might say there are enemies of our country or of our religion, too. 

To love our enemies does NOT mean that justice need not be served.  In the case of a criminal offence, loving our enemy can mean ensuring that perpetrators are brought to justice, for the sake of the victim(s) and for the sake of the offender.  But our spiritual calling remains to love our enemy. 

This has to be one of the greatest challenges for the Christian.  When I was training at ‘vicar school’ we took a field trip to Thorn Cross Young Offender’s Institute where the Revd Shawn Verhey is chaplain.  They run the Sycamore Tree Restorative Justice programme there, where offenders explore the effects of their crimes on the victims, on themselves and on the community, and there’s an emphasis on taking responsibility for their personal actions.  While we were at Thorn Cross, we heard from a woman whose son was killed by one of the young men held there.  This young offender had taken part in the restorative justice programme and so this lady was invited to meet with her son’s murderer.  Eventually through the programme and a lot of soul work this Christian woman told us that she was able to forgive her son’s murderer, and not only to forgive him but she also was beginning to help this young man to change his life as he was preparing for his release from prison. 

Martin Luther King Jr said this:  “Darkness cannot drive out darkness:  only light can do that.  Hate cannot drive out hate:  only love can do that.”  One of my favourite theologians, Miroslav Volf, says:  “The refusal of victims to let violence committed against them contaminate their souls must be one of the most difficult and most heroic acts of which a human being is capable”. 

Love your enemies.  Can you imagine what the world would be like if everyone lived like this?  But in our worldliness, we want there to be another way – a way in which we can ‘get our own back’ – a way in which our enemies are made to ‘pay their debt of pain’, as one sister-in-Christ puts it.  Then she remembers that she never had to pay her debt – we have been bought with the blood of Christ. 

Volf, again, says, “God’s love is broad enough to include evildoers, the worst of them.  We know this because Christ died for their salvation no less than for the salvation of the rest of us who are one and all by nature God’s enemies”.  God has shown mercy to all of us who are rebellious, wayward children.  To be able to love our enemies we must first be very clear about what God has done for us, who are also unworthy.  One commentator (Craddock) says, “Rather than a person hating in response to hatred and loving in response to love, Christian behaviour and relationships are prompted by the God we worship who does not react but acts in love and grace toward all... God behaves with favour toward persons whose life-style does not merit such favour; we are to relate to others with this same graciousness”. 

The kind of love Jesus is talking about in this passage is ‘agape’ love – which is akin to benevolence, compassion and goodwill.  I have trouble even loving those who aren’t my enemies with agape love.  But I do know that loving difficult people is much easier when you pray for them.  Jesus says, “Bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you”.  If you can begin to pray for your enemy (or enemies), you will begin to see them in a different light.  It’s hard, but it’s not impossible – and Jesus says ‘your reward will be great’, because it is liberating. 

A woman who has suffered much at the hands of enemies, Ann Voskamp, has written a beautiful prayer, on which I have based this prayer:  Bless my enemies, O Lord.  Even I bless them and do not curse them. Enemies have driven me into your embrace more than friends have. Enemies have loosed me from earth more than friends have... Enemies have made me a hunted animal, finding safer shelter than an unhunted animal does.  I found safest sanctuary in You... may too my enemies. I found greatest grace in You... may my enemies find Your generous grace alive and radical in me. I found fullest forgiveness in You... may my enemies find faith and freedom in You and Your forgiveness working surprising ways in me. The longer I walk with you, Lord, I find I have no enemies:  only the gift that you are moulding and shaping me deeply.  Bless my enemies, O Lord.  Even I bless them and do not curse them. 

Us and Them

Mark 9:38-50

^"Teacher,” said John, “we saw someone driving out demons in your name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us.”

To a statement like that, I can imagine Jesus saying “O John, my dear John, I have called you in to my inner circle.  With Peter and James, you have seen things that others have not.  You were there when Jairus’ daughter was raised as I decreed, “Talitha Koum”.  You were there with me in the radiance on that mountaintop with Moses and Elijah.  Beloved John, you will see more still to come.  Yet you argue with your brothers as to who will be the greatest among you.   You and James, so keen to sit at my right and my left in my glory; I tell you, you will be seated next to me at table very soon ...stay with me to the end. 

“Teacher,” said John, “we saw someone driving out demons in your name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us.”

“Do not stop him,” Jesus said. “For no one who does a miracle in my name can in the next moment say anything bad about me, for whoever is not against us is for us...”

John, the apostle, privileged to be with Jesus in many special miraculous moments, is given an answer from Jesus making it clear that building his kingdom is not meant to be an exclusive operation.  Jesus never asks for the credentials of the one who’s been driving out demons – what matters is that it’s being done in Jesus’ name.  

The words and deeds of Jesus, and indeed the gospel message itself, points to the need for his followers to consider carefully the boundary lines that we tend to draw, and to actively dismantle the wall of ‘us’ versus ‘them’ that too often builds up.  From the beginning of the church, there have been rivalries between different groups.  Remember in Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians where the people had become divided into factions, some following Apollos, some following Paul, some following Cephas and some following Christ – the people were boasting about which one they followed, and the walls were being built up.

I’m also reminded of the misunderstandings between the various Christian traditions, pitting the ‘super-spiritual’, the ‘liturgical’ and the ‘rigidly dogmatic’ against each other.   Our allegiance must be to Christ first, and to our extended Christian family of believers.  Who is in this family?  Jesus said whoever does the will of God is included in His family (Mark 3:31-35). And the family of Christ are called to ‘love one another’, that’s the way Jesus said we are to demonstrate that we are Christ’s disciples. Through our Scriptures, Christians are urged to consider one another; to be kind to one another, to value others more than ourselves, to bear with each other’s burdens - to forgive as we’ve been forgiven – ‘to make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bonds of peace’ (Eph 4:3).

And in the absence of unity, where there are alienated feelings and bitterness, not only do we become poor witnesses for Christ – at the same time we invite the enemy to gain a stronger foothold among us.  James 3:26 says ‘For wherever there is jealousy and selfish ambition, there you will find disorder and evil of every kind.’ And when seekers observe God’s family fighting, they not so likely to want to become a part of God’s family. So as we recognise the tendency to put a wall between ‘us’ and ‘them’, how can we move on to dismantle the wall? The Lord’s Prayer is a GREAT place to start.  The Lord’s Prayer doesn’t belong to any one tradition – and so, along with the Creeds, the Lord’s Prayer is a potent way for us to express our unity:

You cannot say the Lord’s Prayer,

And even once say "I".

You cannot pray the Lord’s Prayer,

And even once say "my".

Nor can you pray the Lord’s Prayer

And not pray for another.

For to ask for "our" daily bread,

You include your sister and brother!

All God’s children are included

in each and every plea.

From the beginning to the end of it,

it does not once say "me". 

Yesterday some 40,000 Christians from all denominations and traditions met in Wembley Stadium to pray for the nation. Among the 40,000 was a coach full of people representing different Churches in our community. At the heart of the prayers at Wembley was The Lord’s Prayer, being offered for this nation. We’re going to use that same prayer as a blessing now.  And as we pray the Lord’s Prayer together in a moment, I invite you first to think of a brother or sister in Christ with whom you might need to be reconciled, and include that person with yourself as you pray ‘Our Father’; ‘our daily bread’; ‘forgive us our trespasses’; ‘deliver us from evil’. 

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.  Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.  And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.  For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever.  Amen.

One of the strongest areas of division into ‘us’ and ‘them’ can be between churches. Relationships may be better than they were in the past, but many of us still find criticism comes easy – and the criticism is a form of rejection.

There is a story of a World War I soldier who died, and his friends desperately wanted to give him a decent burial.  They found a cemetery in a nearby village.  It happened to be a Roman Catholic cemetery, and the dead man had been a Protestant.  When the friends found the Priest in charge of the burial grounds, they requested permission to bury their friend, but the Priest refused because the man had not been a Catholic.  The Priest saw their disappointment, and said he could arrange for them to have some land outside the churchyard fence to bury their friend. This was done.  Some time later, they returned to visit the grave but couldn’t find it.  Their search led them back to the Priest and, of course, they asked him what had happened to the grave.  The Priest said that he had been unable to sleep because he had made them bury their friend outside the fence.  So he had moved the fence to include the dead soldier. 

In Christ, God ‘moved the fence’ to include the undeserving – you and me.  His love is all embracing.  As we endeavour to honour Christ’s name, and we begin to recognise that our identity is found in Christ, we too are called to move the fence.  Then we realise our identity in Christ isn’t threatened by any group or individual, and we are set free to move from the position of ‘us’ versus ‘them’, and to love as Christ has loved us.

Moving the fence can be a source of joy and healing. So let’s do this.  Let’s share in The Lord’s Prayer once more; but this time, we’ll take a moment and allow God to bring to mind any church, congregation or minister that we may have criticised or regarded as not quite up to the mark.  Ask God to forgive, and then hold them in mind and ask God’s blessing on them by specifically praying the Lord’s Prayer for them. 

 Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.  Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.  And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.  For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever.  Amen.

In the world, not of the world

The Sunday after Ascension Day: John 17:6-19


Life in this world can be very difficult. Each day we have to adapt to changes and make choices and sometimes it’s difficult knowing which way to go. Perhaps a helpful analogy of our journey through life in this world is that it’s like walking through a maze. I like walking through a good maze, one with thick high foliage walls so you can’t cheat and go through them or peek over them! I like the suspense, trying to find the way, not knowing whether you’re making the right choices but forging on ahead anyway with determination.

In life, we may find the path we’ve chosen has led to a dead end, and when that happens, we have to back up and re-assess. It can be frustrating and unsettling having to change the direction in which we’re going. If we’re really lost, we may need to call on someone to help us out. Even though finding the right path to the finish can be difficult, it’s very satisfying when we finally reach that goal.

Jesus knew that life in this world was going to be difficult for his disciples. That’s why he prayed for them when the time was coming for him to leave this world. John chapter 17 is the great prayer made by Jesus at the end of his ‘farewell address’ in the upper room. He knew he was going to be killed; and he knew he was soon going to return to the Father. In the first part of his prayer, Jesus prays for himself. In the final part, he prays for all believers. And in the middle part, which is today’s reading, Jesus prays for his disciples, as they are gathered around him.

Jesus refers to ‘the world’ quite a lot in his prayer: ‘Out of the world’; ‘for the world’; ‘in the world’; ‘of the world’; ‘into the world’ – in fact, Jesus uses the word ‘world’ 12 times in this passage. But what does he mean by ‘the world’?

John 3:16 says that “God so loved ‘the world’”, and we can take that to mean all of humanity; but in other places of the bible, ‘the world’ has a different meaning. In John 16:33, Jesus says, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world”; and here in John 17, he prays that his disciples would be ‘in the world’ but not ‘of the world’ - ‘the world’ here means everything that’s in opposition to God – the systems and powers and traits of humanity that tend to work against God; that are hostile to God’s ways and to the flourishing of God’s creation.

Because we’ve heard the prayer of Jesus, we know that as Christ’s disciples we’re called to be ‘in’ the world but not ‘of’ the world. How does that work out in practice in your life? I think its boils down to three things: the way you treat people; what (or who) you rely on; and what (or who) is the central focus of your life.
To me, it seems that being ‘of the world’ is about disregarding the effects of one’s actions on other people. Being ‘of the world’ is about being unmoved by injustice; it’s about crossing over to the other side of the road when faced with the messiness of life; it’s about being ‘part of the problem’ rather than ‘part of the solution’. Being ‘of the world’ is about believing that appearances matter more than integrity. And when a person is ‘of the world’ they’re unconcerned about the evils that go on in our communities and in the world, because they’re happy focussing on attaining worldly goods and worldly success. They’re focussed on consumerism and materialism, and the only question asked is, ‘what’s in it for me?’

Worldliness is tempting, and Christians face the same temptations as everyone else. We can all think of well-known leaders, Christian or otherwise, who have caved-in to the temptations of ‘the world’: fraud, adultery, abuse, phone-hacking... corruption of all kinds... we hear these kinds of stories in the news all too often. Or there’s the post-modern attitude of ‘if it feels good, do it!’ or ‘whatever floats your boat’. Maintaining good relationships can be hard work; but unless you’re satisfied in every way, the worldly attitude is ‘easy come, easy go’. To be ‘in’ the world but not ‘of’ the world is to recognise that although God wants us to be happy, it’s not meant to be at the expense of our calling to faithful and sacrificial love, and the hope of transformation. Being ‘in’ the world but not ‘of’ the world puts God at the centre of our lives – our relationships, our work and our play - and his grace is the glue that can fix all brokenness.

To be ‘in the world’ but not ‘of the world’ means standing up and speaking out against destructive activities that the world often sees as acceptable or at least inevitable – like gossiping, cheating, self-indulgence, abuse and neglect. To be ‘in the world’ but not ‘of the world’ means that we are witnesses to another way of living – the way of Jesus – the way of the cross - the way of the kingdom – the way of the ‘new creation’. As ‘new creations’ in Christ, we want to encourage the flourishing of life and speak out against the culture of death - not from a platform ‘six feet above condemnation’, because we wrestle with these things, too – but always pointing up to the Risen and Ascended One who has the power to transform us and raise us up.

Jesus says in his prayer, 15 ‘My prayer is not that you take them out of the world ...but that you protect them from the evil one’. The world is full of violence, and yet, this is the world that God is redeeming, and one day this world will be fully renewed. The temptation is to flee from the world - to hide in the cosiness of the upper room - but the Holy Spirit won’t allow that, because this world is the arena of God’s redemption. Jesus says, 18 ‘As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world’. His body has ascended, but his body is here. By God’s Spirit, Jesus was sent into the world, and by the same Spirit, God’s people are sent out into the world, not to conform to the world, or even to condemn the world, but to transform the world.

How do we find our way through this maze of a world? “Love your neighbour as yourself” is a good place to start. And F.R.O.G. – fully rely on God! – put God at the centre of your life. Next Sunday is Pentecost, when we’re reminded of the fact that we’re guided and empowered by the Holy Spirit of God, and then the church calendar moves into what’s liturgically known as ‘ordinary time’, when the focus of our bible readings are on discipleship. It follows on beautifully from today’s prayer that we be ‘in the world’ but not ‘of the world’ – living as faithful disciples in the world witnessing to God’s love in our everyday lives. And perhaps it’s a God-incidence, that on June 11th, at the beginning of ‘ordinary time’, we’re starting a six-week course on how to live as disciples in our everyday, ordinary lives, out ‘in’ the world. The course is called ‘Life on the Frontline’, and I hope many of you can make it. The Christian life may not be easy, and we might still head down a few dead ends, but with Jesus praying for us in heaven ‘at the right hand of the Father’, we have a sure and certain hope that we’ll never be truly lost.

Prayer: Father, as we search for the path that will lead us safely through this world, we place our trust in you, and ask for your guidance and protection as we witness to your love in the world. In the name of our risen and ascended Lord, we pray. Amen.

A hellish place, or a place of discovery?

Sermon for the 1^st Sunday of Lent:  Gen 9:8-17; 1 Peter3:18-22; Mark 1:9-15

My father lives in the desert of Phoenix, Arizona, a land with just two seasons:  hot and hotter.  Their winter is like an English summer, with temperatures in the 70’s, but in summer Phoenix becomes a hellish place, and the people stay indoors with the air conditioning on to survive the heat (that is, if they can afford air conditioning).

Our gospel reading today got me thinking about what it would be like to live in the desert for 40 days.  Jesus was ‘sent’ into the desert by the Spirit – it wasn’t as if he knew what he was there for, or chose to go with a sense of purpose.  So for a start, it would probably be for us a bit like being blindfolded and plonked in the middle of the Mojave or the Sahara.  What would you do? 

You’d probably first want to remove your blindfold, and then maybe you’d begin wandering around.  It wouldn’t take long before the whole ‘focus of your being’ would be on how thirsty you’ve become.  It’s getting difficult to swallow.  Your lips cake up and stick to your teeth and begin to crack and even to bleed.  For Jesus, this experience is in direct contrast with the full-immersion baptism he had just undergone; we can imagine Jesus there in the desert, casting his mind back to the cool, clear water of the Jordan embracing him – refreshing water, cleansing and thirst-quenching. 

But here in the desert, there’s not a drop to drink. And dehydration plays all kinds of tricks on the mind. What easy prey Jesus could have been for Satan’s tempting suggestions.  Our gospel writer says he was with ‘wild animals’, too, and I don’t think he meant harmless little lizards or meercats. Some writers suggest that the wild animals were caring for Jesus alongside the angels, but I don’t think so.  In Isaiah 11 it is prophesied that one day ‘the wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them’, but I don’t think that day has yet arrived. The picture that Mark was sketching out here was that this wilderness was ‘a hellish place’.  And in this bleak and miserable environment, the ground seemed only fertile for the germination of fear and desperation.

The story in Mark is typically short, but we have the devil in the detail provided by Matthew and Luke.  “If you are the Son of God”, says the Tempter, “tell these stones to become bread.  If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from this temple.  I’ll give you all the kingdoms of the world and their splendour, if you’ll bow down and worship me.”  Essentially, after 40 days of fasting in the desert, in his weakness Jesus is tempted to sway from his path and true purpose. 

For us, the 40 days of the season of Lent provides time to consider what it is that tempts us from following our path and true purpose.  And many of us try to discipline ourselves at this time from common temptations that affect many people; temptations like:  spending money as a way to comfort yourself, even if you’re already in debt; drinking too much alcohol or eating too much as a way of dealing with your problems; spending too much time on the computer, to the neglect of family and friends; or simply focussing too much on your own comfort and security, while ignoring the needs of the wider community.  And if any of your temptations have become addictions, you aren’t alone, and you don’t need to struggle alone. There is help available – reach out, tell someone – tell me or tell Frank and we can get you to a place where there is help. 

As Jesus overcame his temptations, he went on to fulfil his earthly mission, ending with the cross and the resurrection and his ascension into heaven. And so the desert or the wilderness becomes transformed from its potential as a ‘hellish place’ to a place of discovery with the potential for growth.  ...Our second reading from Peter’s first letter says that the whole reason for the death and resurrection of Christ was ‘to bring us to God’.  And as Christians for centuries have testified, our own desert places, as difficult as they are while we’re in them, have the potential to bring us closer to God and closer to the awareness of what matters most in life. 

The theologian Karl Rahner movingly expresses this idea of the desert being a place of deep personal discovery of God when he says: 

Therefore Jesus goes into the desert, therefore he fasts; therefore he leaves behind everything else that a man needs even for bare existence, so that, for this once, not just in the depths of his heart but in the whole range of his being he can do and say what is the first and last duty of humankind – to find God, to see God, to belong to God to the exclusion of everything else that makes up human life. And therefore he fasts. Therefore through this cruelly hard act, this denial of all comfort, this refusal of food and drink, through the solitude and abandonment of the desert, through everything else that involves a rejection, a self-denial of the world and all earthly company, through all these he proclaims this fact: one thing only is necessary: that I be with God, that I find God, and everything else, no matter how great or beautiful, is secondary and subordinate and must be sacrificed, if needs be, to this ultimate movement of heart and spirit.

But this ‘finding’ of God in our personal desert regions doesn’t end there; for we who have been through the waters of baptism, who are possessed by the Holy Spirit, are inevitably then also led back into the world and into its wilderness places, where Jesus calls us to turn toward the broken, the hurting and the lonely.  Because as one contemporary thinker puts it:  ‘that's where Jesus hangs out’.  That’s where Jesus calls us – to feed the hungry, to visit those who are, in many ways, imprisoned, and to speak hope to the hopeless.

Did you know there are at least 27 million people worldwide who are captive in slavery today?  There’s a new UK-based initiative (called, appropriately enough, “27 Million”), that aims to raise awareness for these people, many of whom are children, who are enslaved for the purposes of sex or for labour.  For most of us it is difficult to face the reality of this – just imagine what life is like for these people.  But we don’t have to feel helpless about it – there are ways to help.  These people need someone to stand up for them.  This is where the living water needs to be shared – in the deserts of life.  And as we reach out and get out hands dirty, the ‘hellish places’ become places of discovery and growth not only for ourselves but also for others.

If you look carefully in the desert you can discover some amazing displays of life.  Just the other day I read about scientists finding what they called ‘a microbial oasis’ living in the extreme conditions of the Atacama desert in Chile.  Many plants have adapted to make the most of the desolate regions of the world.  There’s an entire ecosystem organised around the conditions of life in the desert.  Nature works with what it has, it hasn’t got a choice – and everything is inter-connected.

As individuals and as communities we have choices when it comes to how we live. We can chose to separate ourselves from those who are different from us, whom we might consider scary or even ‘unclean’; or we can recognise our inter-connectedness with others, that what we do affects others; and what happens to others, affects us. With this view, we realise our daily choices matter – what we choose to eat and drink, what we choose to spend our money on and how we spend our time, and how we deal with the daily temptations of life, all of this really does matter. 

God said to Noah that his covenant is between God and every living creature.  In 1 Peter the apostle says that Christ died ‘once for all’.  In Mark’s gospel, Jesus emerges from his baptism and heads straight into the desert, and then emerges from the desert to proclaim the good news:  the time has come; the kingdom of God is near!   Whatever Lenten disciplines you observe, may they help you to discover the nearness of the kingdom.  And when you go through the desert, as we all do at times, may you discover the strength that comes from Jesus, and may you be thoroughly refreshed by His living water, which is ultimately all that anyone needs.   Amen. 

Epiphany

Readings:  Isaiah 60:1-6, Ephesians 3:1-12, Matthew 2:1-12

By now I’m sure all the decorations are put away, the thank-you notes have been written and the diets begun.  For many, the past week has meant returning to work, returning to school, returning to the usual routine.  Christmas is over, and there are only 351 days until it comes round again.  For some people, exciting things have happened this Christmas: an engagement, a wedding, or the birth of a baby; for others Christmas has been disastrous:  an illness, a job loss, or the death of a loved one.  For some people, Christmas has been just about shopping and parties.  However your Christmas was spent, it’s not uncommon afterwards to feel a bit low. 

Walking around Tesco the other day, I was struck by the change of mood amongst people – instead of the atmosphere of excitement and good will that I found before Christmas, people seemed grumpier and less friendly afterwards.  I wondered, when all is said and done, ‘what difference does Christmas make’.  From the evidence I gathered at Tesco, if Christmas changes people at all, the effect seems to be only temporary.  And maybe that’s not too surprising. After all, bad news doesn’t stop at Christmas.  Violence continues, in Nigeria, in Syria, in Iraq and even in this country.  Worldwide, the economy is still floundering.  Darkness seems to cover many places and people. Even those of us with faith are at times beset by darkness.  When we go through times of darkness what we need to do is persevere in seeking the light of Christ. We must find our own epiphanies, and we must seek in unexpected places:  among the poor and lowly, in the stranger; among the outcast, and in the suffering.  And we must expect and even desire to be changed.

After Jesus was born, Magi from the east ‘saw his star’ and followed it to Bethlehem.  Without any light pollution, the night sky must have been amazing, but the Magi had discovered an especially bright star, and they were convinced this was the sign that the king of the Jews had been born.  They were so sure of it they travelled afar from their Eastern homeland, bringing gifts fit for a king.  They found what they were searching for when the star stopped over the place where Jesus was, and they bowed down to worship him.     

There’s a thread running through our readings today, and it is this:  that God has intended his light to draw people together from far and wide, as his glory and his grace and his accessibility to all the nations is revealed through his Son.  The prophet Isaiah says ‘Nations will come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn’.  In Ephesians, Paul preaches to the Gentiles the boundless riches of Christ, ‘to make plain to everyone the administration of this mystery’, that through Christ all people may approach God with freedom and confidence.  And in Matthew, the Magi represent the foreign nations – Matthew is telling us that Jesus is for the whole world – the reign of Christ is without limit.  Jew and Gentile, wealthy and poor, oppressed and oppressor: Jesus, the Light of the World, came for all people.    That’s why we’re here worshipping together – and that’s why, in turn, we must welcome all.

When the Magi finished worshipping Jesus, and after being warned in a dream to stay clear of Herod, they returned to their country by another route.  I wonder what difference the epiphany made to the Magi.   I mean, when they returned home, do you think they went back to their ‘same old routine’?  No doubt they still had day-to-day responsibilities as we all do, but they must have been changed by their encounter with Jesus.  I wonder how they were changed by their epiphany; Matthew doesn’t tell us.  But then I wonder does Epiphany change us?  Just as it’s tempting to think ‘another Christmas is over and nothing has changed’, can it be true that as another epiphany comes and goes, it has changed nothing?  Surely life is nothing unless it involves change.  We may not like it, we may be afraid of it; but perhaps like the Magi, we, too, need to return ‘by another route’.  Consider these words from Gregory the Great, of the late 6^th century, who said, “having come to know Jesus we are forbidden to return by the way we came”.  And from the early 20^th century the Scottish protestant minister Oswald Chambers, who said, ‘Beware of spending too much time looking back at what you once were, when God wants you to become something you have never been’. 

For Christmas to have any meaning at all, we need to experience our own Epiphanies – we must respond to the light we see in Christ. Signs of assurance come when we step out in faith.  When the Magi found the Christ child they were assured it had been the right thing to do. When Lesley and Sue and I started the Lunch Club, we knew it was the right thing to do.  We were anxious about it, but we stepped out in faith.  And each time we meet with those who come to the lunch club, people usually shunned by society because of their mental health issues, the truth in God’s word is confirmed for us that by welcoming the stranger we’re welcoming Jesus among us –the fulfilment this brings is hard to put into words, but we are certain that it’s right and it’s worthwhile and it’s Kingdom stuff.  Following the light of Christ leads us into God’s mission in the world. 

So if, like me, you found yourself a bit deflated after all the hype of Christmas, wondering what difference Christmas makes, the solution can only be to remember to focus on the light of Christ, and expect to find it in unexpected places, even in the darkness of this world.  When we keep our eyes focussed on Jesus and his light, with thankfulness for all that we’ve been given, then everything is changed:  the ordinary and the routine; our pain and our joy – all of life is changed by our faith in Christ, who is the light of our hope in the midst of darkness.  Setting off from a faraway place, the Magi didn’t know what to expect, but no doubt their encounter with Jesus changed them.  And when we encounter Jesus, we are changed – to walk a different and sometimes uncomfortable path – and really, we have to accept this:  we cannot go back the way that we came – we must find another route.