A Revolution of Heart and Mind

Sermon for Choral Evensong: Matthew11:20-30

In this reading from Matthew’s gospel, we hear some of the strongest words of condemnation to come out of the mouth of Jesus, followed by one of his most soothing invitations.  So let’s put that into context, to see what this passage of scripture could mean for us today. 

Woe to you, Korazin, Bethsaida, and to you, Capernaum.  These towns had witnessed first-hand the miracles that Jesus had performed.  They had heard the prophecy of John the Baptist who said, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near” (Matt 3:2).  They knew the prophecies of old about the coming of a Messiah, who would be born of the house of David.  All of these were fulfilled in Jesus Christ, which should have firmly established his credentials as the Messiah. 

At the very beginning of Matthew’s gospel, the genealogy of Jesus through the house of David is laid out – fourteen generations in all from Abraham to David, fourteen from David to the exile to Babylon, and fourteen from the exile to the Christ (Matt 1:1-17).  And in Matthew 4:23-25, we’re told that ‘Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom, and healing every disease and sickness among the people.   News about him spread all over Syria, and people brought to him all who were ill with various diseases, those suffering severe pain, the demon-possessed, those having seizures, and the paralysed, and he healed them.  Large crowds from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea and the region across the Jordan followed him.’

Surely all of this was evidence enough to prove the credentials and identity of Jesus, but as we see by his condemnation of Korazin, Bethsaida and Capernaum, they were not responding to his announcement of the kingdom of God.  In fact, their hearts were hardened against him. 

I have to admit, I have some sympathy towards these people, because sometimes it’s hard to see the wood for the trees.  They didn’t recognise Jesus as Messiah because they knew his parents and his trade in Nazareth.  They didn’t think God could raise a Messiah from there.  Not only that, but he wasn’t the sort of Messiah they were expecting.  Even John the Baptist had questions:  in Matthew 11, verse 2, it says ‘when John heard in prison what Christ was doing, he sent his disciples to ask him “Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?”’

Somebody has worked out the odds for one person to fulfil all of the prophecies concerning the Messiah as 1 in 10¹⁵⁷. To illustrate this chance, consider the humble electron.  The electron is about as small an object as we can imagine. If we had a cubic inch of electrons and if we could count them at 250 per minute, it would take 57,000 years to count them. Now mark just one of these electrons and stir it back into the rest of them. The chance for one person to fulfil all the prophecies about Christ is the same chance that a blindfolded person has of finding the marked electron – unless, of course, He is the Son of God.

The gospel is good news, and the good news that Jesus proclaimed was that the kingdom of God was entering into the reality of this broken world to transform it.  Sadly, many are cynical and find this news ‘too good to be true’. 

But if we’re honest, aren’t we all bent a bit towards cynicism when we hear of something that seems too good to be true?  I know that I can be.  And in our worst moments, when life’s events seem to be conspiring against us, aren’t we tempted as well to disregard God’s promises and the teachings of Jesus?  Though we know that Jesus bids us to come to him when we’re weary and burdened, and he promises rest for our souls, is he always the first to whom we turn?

Our society is restless, weary, looking for something, around them, possibly in them, but not knowing where to find the true source of peace and rest.  Many people don’t realise their true need for Christ.  It’s like the story of a man who has a fever... 

As he lies upon his bed, wherever he puts his head becomes hot and uncomfortable. And so he tosses and turns.  He rolls from side to side.  He constantly re-arranges his pillow, thinking that the fever is in the bed and in the sheets, and forgetting that the fever is in him.  No tossing, no turning, no thrashing about will help.  And the same thing is true of the restlessness of our age. We cannot find rest until we are changed within; we will not be relieved from our sense of restlessness and weariness until we realize that there’s no hope in looking anywhere else but to Jesus. 

The sin of Korazin, Bethsaida and Capernaum in our scripture was that they did not ‘repent’.  That is, they did not ‘turn’; they did not turn away from their sin and they did not turn towards Jesus.  And isn’t it typical of mankind?  To desire autonomy, self-sufficiency, ‘I’ll do it my way’?  It’s the doctrine of ‘the Fall’, and humanity’s tendency towards sin, in a nutshell. 

The cynicism of the unrepentant Israelites is often explained as resulting from their misunderstanding what the Messiah would be like, when he came.  And it’s true, they thought the Messiah would be a warrior figure, to take back their towns and villages and cities from Roman occupation.  To this day, Jewish people still pray for the coming of their Messiah, who will be victorious over Israel’s enemies, because that promise is included in the message of the prophets.   

In Jesus’ day, this vision of the Messiah would have required an overthrow of the Roman occupation – it would have required a revolution. It would have required swords, and violence – ‘a holy war against the unholy warriors.  Love your neighbour, [but] hate your enemy; if he slaps you on the cheek, or makes you walk a mile with him, stab him with his own dagger.  That’s the sort of kingdom-vision [the Israelites] had’ (says Tom Wright). What Jesus was offering was a completely different kingdom-vision. 

Interestingly, at the end of Matthew 10 (v32-42), Jesus says that he did not come to bring peace; he came to bring a sword! But we know he didn’t engage in actual physical battle – and so the conclusion is that the sword of Jesus is a ‘spiritual’ sword, and the defeat of Israel’s enemies is a spiritual defeat.  The Israelites hadn’t recognised who their true enemy was: their own hardness of heart.  And we must recognise that’s our real enemy, too – the hardness of heart that so readily provides us with excuses not to believe in the promises of God and of Jesus in our scriptures. 

Jeremiah prophesied (31:33) that the Lord would make a new covenant with Israel, that his law would be put in their minds and written on their hearts – the covenant of grace.  The conversion that must happen when we truly repent or turn away from our sin and towards Christ is a conversion of heart and mind.  It doesn’t matter how often we come to church to hear the gospel if we refuse to allow the gospel to convert us, to turn us, and to change us.  We need a revolution of heart and mind.  

As J. C. Ryle (the first Anglican bishop of Liverpool) said, “Let us settle in our minds that it will never do to be content with merely hearing and liking the gospel.  We must go further than that.  We must actually repent and be converted.” Indifference to the gospel is no different from rejection as far as Jesus is concerned. As Ryle says, “We must actually lay hold on Christ, and become one with Him. Until then we are in dreadful danger. It will prove more tolerable to have lived in Tyre, Sidon, and Sodom, than to have heard the Gospel in England, and at last died unconverted.”

And so, being mindful of Jesus’ warnings at the beginning of this evening’s passage, we can then rejoice for the gift of the promise at the end!  Jesus gives gentle encouragement to all that will hear: ‘Come; take; and learn.’  And the result of following this gracious invitation is that we will ‘find rest.’  Come to Jesus, take his yoke upon yourself, learn from him, and in doing so, you will find rest for your souls.  May we know this truth deeply in our hearts and draw from it the peace and security that Jesus so desires to bring to his people.  Amen. 

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.

Third Year Ramblings

The Curacy Cafe's days are numbered.  It has been three years, and hopefully, at some stage over the next six months, I will be moving out of the assistant curate role into the role of an incumbent vicar.  It will be a big change, and I'm already mourning the relative calm experienced when you're not the one who is ultimately responsible for the running of the parish.  I feel ready though.  I'm ready to put the vision that God has given me into practice and action.  I'm excited most about working collaboratively with people and doing everything I can to equip people for mission and ministry. 

I don't know yet where I will be going.  Most of my curate colleagues have already obtained posts.  But I am still waiting.  It is an anxious time, not just for me but for my family.  There are possibilities in the pipeline, but nothing is certain at this time. It is a time for patience and trust. 

It's hard to put into words all that I've learned over the past three years.  And I'm still learning. At the moment, I'm busy working with the vicar from a neighbouring parish in the schools that she is involved with (blooming hard work, coming up with fresh assemblies every week), and I'm leading a weekly discipleship course, "Life on the Frontline", from LICC, which is inspiring and encouraging and refreshing. 

I had a wonderful evening last night leading prayers as Chaplain at the Sea Cadets, who put on an excellent display for the Lord Lieutenant of Merseyside, Dame Lorna Muirhead.  And we're off next week on an outing with our Lunch Club, with people from our community who have mental health problems, to a candle factory in Beeston, to be followed by a stop at the Cheshire Farm Ice Cream shop. All great stuff.  It's not all wonderful, though, of course... as life runs alongside death at all times in this life - I have a funeral next week for a stillborn baby.  And we continue to minster to parishioners who are facing serious issues.  There's always a tension between the opposite ends of ministry. 

I'm nearly finished with my Master's, with just the dissertation outstanding.  Completing the assignments, alongside everything else, has been a challenge, but I'm excited about starting the dissertation- the focus will be on church growth.  Will try to blog about that later after it gets going.

Anyway, my posts seem to be few and far-between lately, probably because this is such a transitional time.  I'm trying to decide whether I want to blog anymore at all when my curacy is finished.  I may be too busy then .  It has been quite good, though, dipping my toe into the waters of the blogosphere during my curacy. 

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.