Sermon for 20th of June, 2010

Yesterday I was ordained as a priest! It was a special moment in time for me. The photograph above was taken today just after I presided at the Lord's table for the first time, with Lesley our Reader, who also assisted with distributing Communion - another special moment in time. What follows is taken from the sermon I preached today. The readings were 1 Kings 19:1-15a, Galatians 3:23-end, and Luke 8:26-39.

There were a lot of photographs taken yesterday at the Cathedral. These snapshots will have captured some of the excitement of the moment: the joy of the ordinands and the support of family and friends. Photographs are snapshot images of moments taken out of time. They’re moments that have been taken out of their original context. Each Sunday our scripture readings are kind of like snapshots in this way. What we get is only a small picture of what is really a much wider landscape of events and meanings. The task of the preacher is to develop the picture in some way. But it can never be the whole picture, because ‘the word of God is living and active’, as St. Paul says in Hebrews 4:12. God is still completing the picture, for us and with us.

I’d like to consider just a couple of themes from our readings this morning. The first comes from the Old Testament reading, 1 Kings 19, of Elijah’s experience of the presence of God in a “gentle whisper”; the ‘still, small voice’ in some translations. God is both meekness and majesty. In the Old Testament, God’s presence is sometimes signified by thunder, clouds and fire. But here God’s presence is signified by gentleness, quietness and stillness. God works in his own way, and in his own time, and not always in the ways we expect. And if we busy ourselves too much in the noisy stuff of daily life, we can miss the still, small voice of God.

For a few days last week, those of us who were ordained priest yesterday were made to go on retreat. This took place at the Diocesan Retreat Centre, which is surrounded by woodland. I found the most refreshing part of my retreat experience was time spent walking in the woods, serenaded by birdsong. The blessing of the retreat centre is for all of us in the Diocese and I recommend it to you for a quiet day or a couple of days retreat.

Stillness, quiet reflection, and prayer are so important if we want to become more aware of God’s intimate presence with us, and his purposes for our life. What might God be saying to you, in a gentle whisper? In some cases, he may be reassuring us; in others challenging us or calling us to a new direction in our lives. Whatever the message may be when we make the space to listen, in our desire to respond, God will equip us for the next stage of our journey.

The next theme I’d like us to think about is from our second reading from Galatians chapter 3. It’s that remarkable picture of inclusiveness in Christ. Verse 2: ‘there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus’. It’s a picture of a world where there are no exclusion zones. In the new creation there are no categories in which people are boxed in or kept out.

Is there someone or something we would rather exclude from God’s grace? Remembering now our Gospel reading from Luke 8, picture the demon-possessed man, a horrific picture of distorted humanity, being healed by Jesus. Irenaeus once said, ‘the glory of God is a human being fully alive’. And God’s grace makes that possible, even for the most distorted of lives. No one is beyond the reach of Jesus.

And God’s grace makes reconciliation possible even in the most hostile of situations. Reconciliation is God’s work. And through Christ, by his Spirit, the ministry of reconciliation has been given to the Church. Going back to what St. Paul says in verse 27 of Galatians 3, ‘All of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourself with Christ’. And being in Christ, as his body the Church, we are to be a blessing to the world. All the baptised are ‘ordained’ to do this.

And all the baptised are ‘set apart’ to a ministry of serving Christ by serving others in the world. Jesus set this example for his disciples when, in John’s gospel, chapter 13, he washes the disciple’s feet, and says to them, ‘You should do as I have done for you’. In the body of Christ, in whatever role we have as laity or clergy, it’s an immense privilege to serve our amazing God. And I want to say today, as I preside at the Lord’s Table, how humbling this privilege is. As we say in the ‘prayer of humble access’, none of us are worthy even to gather up the crumbs from under his table. And yet, Jesus says: ‘This is my body which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me’.

Jesus gives his very self for the whole world. And the still, small voice of God calls all who are ‘clothed with Christ’ to take part, in this sacrament of thanks and praise. The Eucharist is a thanksgiving meal and it’s a memorial meal. And the act of taking bread and wine, blessing and breaking, taking and eating – this simple act contains a much wider significance in its whole context, some of which is simply beyond our comprehension.

But at its heart, the sacrament of Holy Communion is about participation, sharing, and fellowship – with Christ and with each other. By his Spirit, we share Christ’s body and blood. By his Spirit, we are clothed with Christ on the outside and Christ lives within us. By his Spirit, we share in his mission and in his servant ministry.

Jesus gives himself to us, and we make our response by giving ourselves to him. As St. Paul urges in Romans 12:1, ‘...brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, ...offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God – this is your spiritual act of worship’.

So as we come to the Table in gratitude for what Jesus has given us, let us also come to offer our lives afresh to God. And let us seek God’s purposes for our own life and for the life of this community; not by listening to the loud clanging drums of special interest groups, but by listening to God’s ‘gentle whisper’ – that still, small voice. The voice that says ‘be still and know that I am God’. The voice that says ‘Do not be afraid’. The voice that says ‘I am with you always’. It’s the voice of truth. It’s the voice that sets us free.

Let us pray:
Heavenly Father, thank you for giving to us your Son and your Spirit. Thank you for including us among your children, and at your Table. Speak to us afresh today, Lord. As you know our inmost thoughts and deepest needs, comfort us, and challenge us; to the glory of your name. Amen.

Priesthood

As it is, I am an ordained deacon. As of Saturday afternoon, June 19th, I will be an ordained priest. The wonderful people in my parish ask me if I am excited, or if I am looking forward to it. Definitely yes, and yes. But that is mixed up with a whole cocktail of other emotions as well.

This time last year when I was ordained as a deacon, I couldn't imagine being ordained priest. Gradually as the year has progressed, with experiences gained and much prayer and seeking after God, my imagination has been stretched. The composition of my being seems increasingly perfused with 'priestly' qualities. And the formal ordination service marks the point at which I will be able, with authority given by God and by the Church, to use those qualities in profound ways to serve God and to serve people.

Not too many years ago, I was fairly anti-priestly-authority, fairly anti-church-heirarchy and institutionalism. I still am, on many levels. I've always believed in the 'priesthod of all believers' (1 Peter 2:9). I long for the 'priesthood of all believers' to be full-on enabled and released into ministry. I wonder if the ordained priesthood as a stipendiary office would even be necessary if the priesthood of all believers were fully engaged in the world.

What does it mean to be a priest in Christ's church, when Christ himself is our High Priest (Hebrews 5)? In the Old Testament, a priest was a mediator between God and his people. There was a curtain in the Temple through which only the priest could pass to access God in the holy of holies, where the Ark of the Covenant rested. When Jesus was crucified, the temple curtain was torn in two (Matthew 27:51). Jesus opened up the way to God for us all, by his death on the cross. No longer is any earthly mediator required for any of us to have access to God; our heavenly mediator is Christ, and we ourselves live in Christ through his Spirit.

This is why I've never really liked the title priest to describe what we do today, because it can confuse the role that priests should fulfil in these post-resurrection days. But this is what they are called in many denominations, and so long as the role is clear and not abused (which sadly, it often is), then I can just manage to get my head around it. For me, being ordained as a priest will be a commissioning, a releasing, to be and to do what God has put me on this earth to be and to do. I just pray I will be faithful to this.

So the role is about both being and doing. But if there's no longer any need for the Old Testament priestly function, what do priests today do? I came across this incisive poem about being a priest, on the blog of an ordinand who seems also to wrestle a lot with the notion of priesthood and ordination. I'm so grateful we have a God who doesn't mind our wrestling with him and with the mysteries of his purposes (I've always loved Genesis 32:22-32 where Jacob wrestles with God).

Yes, I am very excited about Saturday, and about Sunday, when I will preside for the first time at Holy Communion, and be able to say the Absolution and the Blessing. It is a great privilege to be able to do this kind of work full-time. Please pray for me and for all those who are called to ordained ministry of whatever form. I pray that in our ministry, the name of Christ will be honoured above all else; unto him be all honour and glory for ever. Amen.

By faith, through grace

Galatians 2:15-end / Luke 7:36 – 8:3

I’ve been spending some time recently with the Sea Cadets in my new role as their chaplain, and what an amazing unit it is! The volunteer staff are so dedicated to serving the young people who attend – fuelled by a deep belief that what they are doing benefits these young people immensely. And for many cadets, especially those who are from disadvantaged or disorderly backgrounds, being in the Sea Cadets is a real life-changer. Their belief in themselves grows through the skills and disciplines learned.

Believing in ourselves and in others, learning to trust ourselves and other people is a very healthy thing. But it’s not the whole thing. You’ve probably heard the phrase that there’s a ‘God-shaped hole’ in every human heart. And we do seem to have a need to believe in something. It’s that natural inclination of human believing that the Holy Spirit uses when people respond to the gospel. The Holy Spirit takes the power of human love and transforms it into a godly love. The same is true of hope. God takes the human hope which is found in every person and transforms it into the hope for ‘life in all its fullness’ – into the hope for eternal life. Likewise, God takes the natural faith or believing that is deep within all human hearts and transforms that human believing into belief and trust in Jesus.

A famous quote from the Bible is: “I believe; Lord,help my unbelief.” God wants to cure our unbelief. What God wants from us more than anything else is that we would have faith in Jesus Christ - belief in Jesus Christ; trust in Jesus Christ. Not just to believe in positive thinking. Not just to believe in the power of believing or have faith in the power of faith. God wants more than that. We are invited to put our faith in his incarnate Son, Jesus Christ. That’s the core of the Christian faith. God wants to transform the power of human belief in all of us into a personal faith in Jesus Christ, so that we trust the promises that he has made to us through Jesus.

Our first reading this morning was from Paul’s letter to the Galatians, ch. 2: Let’s think about the churches in Galatia, in ancient Turkey, in Paul’s time. There were deeply religious people there in Galatia who couldn’t grasp that God raised Jesus from the dead, that all our sins are fully forgiven by his death on the cross, and that his followers, his disciples, are to live a life of love. Those Galatians didn’t understand the gospel.

They also didn’t understand what God wanted from them and wants from us. The very core of Jewish morality was to obey hundreds of laws that said, “don’t’ do this and don’t do that.” When Jesus came, that changed. What God wants from us more than anything else is that we would have faith in Jesus Christ. The essence of Christianity isn’t to obey rules and regulations but to have faith in Jesus Christ.

Surrounded by evil and suffering, our faith demands that we trust in God's ultimate judgment and protection. No matter what happens to us in this life, we trust in Jesus as ultimate judge and our saving grace. Faith trusts the promise of God that we will live forever with Jesus, who suffered and died at the hands of evil, for our sake.

And faith involves a leap, a letting go, because there is no proof that God exists. It’s a risk. There is no proof that there is a God or that God will catch us when we fall. So there is a leap of faith, a letting go of the need for proof. Even with everything we see in nature – or in human courage, kindness, and love – ultimately we believe in that which is not seen.

And we are justified in the eyes of God, not by adherence to any Law or Doctrine or Dogma, but by faith in Jesus. The Law by which we are justified is the law of grace – it’s the law of love, laid down by the life of Jesus. And What God wants from us more than anything else is that we would have faith in Jesus Christ.

The other day, I was approached by a man who was what we might call a ‘down and out’. He saw my clerical collar and held out his hand to me and told me his name is Tony, that he is a believer, and that he prays every day. He said he no longer goes to church. I told him that the most important thing to God is that we have faith in him. And Tony told me that he does have faith.

And even though he was a ‘down and out’, Tony had a quality about him. A resilient and open quality about him. Even though things might not be going so well for him in the material context, maybe Tony has found that no matter how far he’s fallen, somehow his basic needs have been met – out of the goodness of others, or out of an inner strength that he’s been able to draw upon. Maybe I’m a soft old fool, but I believe him when he says he has faith – I could see it in his eyes. Tony asked me to pray for him, and he told me he would pray for me, too.

I pondered this encounter the next day. I wondered what our reaction would be if someone like Tony came in here to worship with us. Would we welcome him in with open arms? Or would his presence in this congregation disturb us? Would the smell of beer on his breath and his unkempt appearance make us want to avoid him?

I wondered whether we subconsciously make judgements that the sin of people like Tony is somehow greater than our sin, and therefore he shouldn’t be in here with us. Remembering our second reading this morning from Luke 7, that is just the kind of thing that Simon the Pharisee thought of the woman ‘sinner’ who came into his house and anointed Jesus’ feet.

Martin Luther wrote that ‘Christ is a Lover of poor sinners, and such a Lover that He gave Himself for us. Now if this is true, and it is true, then we are never justified by our own righteousness’.

The Pharisees were self righteous people with an inflated sense of moral and spiritual superiority. They maximized everybody else’s sins and minimized their own. They felt they were two or three cuts above everybody else in the world.
But Jesus says, ‘Whoever is forgiven much, loves much. Whoever is forgiven little, loves little.’

It’s easier to extend forgiveness to other people when a person has personally experienced a deep forgiveness himself or herself. When a person realizes the number of stupid mistakes they’ve made in their own life, then that person is more willing to forgive others who also make stupid mistakes in their life.

When we realize our own sinfulness, and the gift of forgiveness, we’re set free to show compassion to others – compassion for all people - even our imperfect family members. We’re set free to show compassion to marginalised people – like those with mental health issues - and for every other kind of group that we’re sometimes prejudiced against. We’re set free to show compassion for down and out’s like Tony. Jesus says that there’s a connection when we realize our own sinfulness and the measure of his forgiveness; there’s a connection between that realisation and our degree of compassion for others.

There are many people out there who have faith in God but don’t feel ‘good enough’ to belong in here. We have to ask ourselves why. And we have to make sure that we aren’t the kind of church that holds up a measuring stick, only allowing those who ‘fit in’ to have a place here to belong. As Christians we must have faith that God can release us from our fear of the other.

What God wants from us more than anything else is that we would have faith in Jesus Christ, who loves us and gave himself for us. We need to trust that Jesus now lives in us by his Spirit, who will release us from the desire to condemn others who we think are somehow beneath us in righteousness. Faith believes that the only way any of us are righteous in God’s eyes is by the gracious love of Jesus, and not through anything we try to do. Amen.

Fire and Rain

1 Kings 18:41-46

Elijah said to Ahab, "Go, eat and drink, for there is the sound of a heavy rain." So Ahab went off to eat and drink, but Elijah climbed to the top of Carmel, bent down to the ground and put his face between his knees.
"Go and look toward the sea," he told his servant. And he went up and looked. "There is nothing there," he said.
Seven times Elijah said, "Go back."
The seventh time the servant reported, "A cloud as small as a man's hand is rising from the sea." So Elijah said, "Go and tell Ahab, 'Hitch up your chariot and go down before the rain stops you.' "

Meanwhile, the sky grew black with clouds, the wind rose, a heavy rain came on and Ahab rode off to Jezreel. The power of the LORD came upon Elijah and, tucking his cloak into his belt, he ran ahead of Ahab all the way to Jezreel.

The great prophet Elijah lived around 900 years before Christ. It was well after King Solomon’s reign, described in the first eleven chapters of 1 Kings, and also after Israel had been divided into the two kingdoms: Israel in the north and Judah in the south. The reading this morning from 1 Kings 18, where the rains finally come down upon drought-stricken Israel, is the end result of a significant time in the life of the prophet Elijah.

Elijah first appears in 1 Kings 17, in confrontation with the evil King Ahab. Ahab reigned over the northern kingdom of Israel for twenty-two years; and according to 1 Kings 16:30, he ‘did more evil in the eyes of the Lord than any [of the kings] before him’. And Ahab’s wife was his equal in wickedness. The name Jezebel is now part of our language, referring to any evil, devious, manipulative woman. It says in 1 Kings 21:25-26 that ‘Never was there a man like Ahab, who sold himself to do evil in the eyes of the Lord, urged on by Jezebel his wife’. Jezebel corrupted Ahab by enticing him into following her pagan gods Asherah and Bel, who together were called Baal.

The short passage from 1 Kings 18 relates the end of the long drought that was a punishment for the idolatry raging in Israel at the time. Just before this passage, Elijah put this idolatry to the test, when he poses a challenge to the people. He says in verses 23 & 24:

‘Let the prophets of Baal choose [a bull] for themselves, and let them cut it into pieces and put it on the wood but not set fire to it. I will prepare [another] bull and put it on the wood but not set fire to it. Then you call on the name of your god, and I will call on the name of the Lord. The god who answers by fire – he is God.’

Calling on the name of their pagan god, the people danced around their altar from morning till noon, with no response. Elijah taunts them, saying: ‘Shout louder! ...Perhaps [your god] is deep in thought, or busy, or travelling’ – and that was an insult, because ‘travelling’ was a euphemism for going to the toilet! From afternoon to evening, the idolaters ‘shouted louder and slashed themselves with swords and spears, as was their custom, until their blood flowed’ (v.28).
But still, no response from Baal!

So Elijah builds his altar in the name of the Lord. He arranges the wood and the bull, and then he pours water all over it until it is completely drenched. Elijah prays to the Lord - the God of Abraham, Isaac and Israel. And in v. 38, ‘the fire of the Lord fell and burned up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones and the soil, and also licked up the water in the trench’!

When the people saw this, they fell down on their knees and cried out that the Lord is God. Elijah then has all the prophets of Baal killed. The whole dramatic event is interwoven with the story of the drought, and shortly afterwards, on Mount Carmel, the sky becomes black with clouds and heavy rain finally begins to fall – and that is this morning’s passage. The rain is seen by Elijah and his followers as a sign that God has forgiven the repentant people their sin of idolatry which had been the cause of the drought.

Rainfall is a symbol of blessing and divine providence. The Old Testament conveys to us that the blessing of water and abundance is at God’s command (whether that says anything of the recent problems with the water supply in our region, I don’t know!); but the prophet Elijah longed for the rains to come to end the severe drought and famine – he longed for justice and for the redemption of God’s people.

The Old Testament often makes use of the imagery of water as a sign of justice and righteousness: The flood in Noah’s day was purging, cleansing and purifying. From Amos 5:24 come the powerful words, ‘let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream’! The waters of baptism signify cleansing and healing - the dying and rising again of new life. God knows that his people need the water of life and we are dependent on him for everything good that we have.

The story of Elijah seems like it would make a great plot for a film. But there have only been a few films made where he is featured, like one called The Sins of Jezebel from 1953, with John Hoyt as Elijah, and Paulette Goddard as Jezebel; and there was an animated film about Elijah made in 1996. But I think it’s about time for someone to make an up-to-date version of this story, because it could highlight the ways we practice idolatry today.

Not many people these days worship the pagan gods Asherah and Bel, but we’ve certainly got contemporary examples of idolatry. And it’s even present within the Church! Many people in the western developed world have exchanged their Christian heritage for the god of Choice; and we often put Ourselves in the place of God, as well. So we are challenged today by the prophet Elijah to examine whether we choose to follow the one true God, faithfully.

The Bible teaches that there are many forms of idolatry including greed and immorality (Eph. 5:5; Col. 3:5). Anything we worship or depend on for security, significance, or happiness, other than the Lord, becomes a form of idolatry. Today, people don’t usually construct gods of wood and stone, but we do make gods out of our own ideas, our prejudices, and our worldview. It can be helpful to think about what forms of idolatry we are engaging in, and to bring this to the Lord in prayer and repentance.

We might idolise Church-going, over and above a personal prayerful relationship with God. Maybe we sometimes idolise our church buildings.

We might allow pleasure and comfort dictate what we do and keep us from seeking the true will of God for our life, because we’re afraid of how uncomfortable or unpleasant that might be.

We might set our hearts and our security on being successful – either financially or socially; spending all our energy and time pursuing the next rung on the ladder to the point that it interferes with quality time spent with family, church, and community.

What must we have to be secure, happy, or significant?

Today, people can find the resemblance of joy and peace in false religion, in money, power, and position, but it always falls short of true and lasting peace, which only comes through faith in Jesus and the intimate fellowship that he offers to us.

Let us pray: Father God, thank you for the wonderful stories from the prophets of old. Help us to apply the things we learn from them to our lives today. Keep us from worshipping anything or anyone other than you. Thank you for your abundant provision. Lord, send your kingdom down upon us, like a fresh rainfall. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.

Miscellanea

Haven't posted for a while, so thought I would just say what I've been up to and what's ahead. I had a great day today. After seeing the two kids off to school, the usual morning prayers were said with my training incumbent, followed by some enjoyable conversation and play with the 'carers and tots' group, held every Monday at one of the two churches (there is also a Tuesday group held at the other church). Delivered the monthly parish newsletter to my usual two streets (there are several other volunteers and around 500 homes reached). I enjoy that - perhaps missed a calling as a postman? (what is the gender neutral term for postman?) A few emails and a few phone calls with the funeral director and someone wanting to discuss doing ecumenical outreach. Worked for a bit on Thursday's sermon; also went to the bank. After the kids got home from school, had to take my daughter to get some new school shoes and later after cooking dinner, I helped my son create an elephant costume to wear to school tomorrow.

Tomorrow is an 'IME' day, which is our continuing education scheme as curates. The theme for tomorrow is 'Growing Church', so it sounds like its right up my street. Looking forward to it. Also tomorrow in the evening I plan to attend my first Sea Cadets meeting, and this will become a regular feature in my parish ministry.

Wednesday I must finish up my sermon for Thursday and the funeral service that is also on Thursday. Should also make a pastoral visit. Thursday, of course, is Holy Communion when I will be preaching, followed by a funeral. Thursday evening I'll start working on Sunday's sermon. Friday is my day off, so I might take half of that to potter around doing nothing much at all, and the rest of it catching up on housework and tidying my study. Saturday I have Diocesan Synod to attend. So that is my week.

I'm looking ahead with excited anticipation to several events: a train journey down to London to visit an old high school friend; my pre-ordination retreat; the ordination of priests on 19th June; my first ever Holy Communion presidency on 20th June; the Race for Life on 27th June; and the Diocesan clergy conference from 28th June to 1st July. After all of that, I'll be eagerly looking forward to the visitation from California of my mom, sister, niece and nephew for three weeks! Yay!

Pentecost

Acts 2:1-21;
John 14:8-17, 25-27
Pentecost is one of the three greatest feasts of the Church. And as with Christmas and Easter, at Pentecost we don’t just look back. Yes, we commemorate the wonderful things that God did in the past, but we also look forward, incorporating God’s story with our story. The incarnation we celebrate at Christmas continues when we participate in the body of Christ, as the Church. The Easter resurrection of Christ continues when we live the resurrection life, signified through our baptism and a transformed way of living. The only way that we are able to participate in the ongoing stories of Christmas and of Easter is by the arrival of the Pentecostal gift of God’s Spirit, through which God’s people are empowered.

The first Pentecost was like this. There were 120 believers gathered together in the large upper room where they were staying in Jerusalem. These first Christians were waiting - waiting for something very special to happen to them; they weren’t quite sure what they were waiting for. They knew they were waiting for the Holy Spirit to come, because Jesus had told them ahead of time, but they didn’t know what that would mean. Then it was like a rush of wind into the room - the Holy Spirit coming into their lives – it was like tongues of fire. They felt the power of God inside them, and eventually they left that building and went out into the streets.

They went from street to street and home to home and neighbour to neighbour and nation to nation. It was like a grass fire, flaming across the land on dry fields of grass. It was like a forest fire driven by the wind, in a very dry forest. It was like a fire on an oil slick on the sea, with flames leaping across the water. That’s the way it was in the first century of Christian expansion. The flame of Jesus Christ was spreading across the world.

Pentecost is often called ‘the birthday of the church’, and we’ve brought a cake that we can all share after the service to celebrate. You couldn’t even fit enough candles on this cake to signify the number of years the church has been living, but imagine the light and heat from nearly 2000 candles! Fire is symbolic: Fire is energy; fire is power. Fire is passion for Jesus Christ, and on Pentecost, there was a new quality of fired up energy for Jesus Christ.

On the first day of Pentecost just under 2000 years ago, suddenly there were many different languages spoken by the Galilean disciples. It was clear: the message of Jesus Christ was to go into the entire world, into all the languages of the world, into all the nationalities in the world. Christians were not to remain in Jerusalem but go out into the entire world, proclaiming the good news about Jesus Christ in the many different languages of the nations.

In Acts 1:8, Luke writes that Jesus had said to the disciples, “You shall receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you shall be my witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” On that first Pentecost morning, there was a new sense of mission. These men and women sensed a new purpose and a new goal. Their destiny was to announce to the entire world the Lordship of Jesus Christ. Their purpose was absolutely clear to them, and they were united in its urgency.

With the Spirit, there was also a new sense of community. The first Christians shared their possessions. They sold their material goods to help those in need. There was a new sense of inclusive life within this community: sharing problems, sharing each other’s tragedies, sharing resources. They experienced a community of love like they had never experienced before.

There was also a new power within: a new energy to carry out their mission – an energy within them to accomplish their goals. These people had new courage to face the persecutions of a sometimes hostile context. They had a new boldness to speak out about their faith. They had a new passion to stand before family, friends, neighbours, and co-workers and tell the good news of Jesus Christ and his impact on their daily lives.

The apostles would go to a village or town. They would plant a church, and then they would go to a second village or town, and plant a church. They went to a third village or town and planted another church. Before the apostles went onto the next village, they would leave a group of people in that village who were committed to Jesus Christ. The Greek word is ‘laos.’ They were the ‘the laity,’ which means ‘the people.’

The apostles wouldn’t leave the towns or villages until they left people whose hearts and tongues were on fire - these people hadn’t gone to seminary, they hadn’t seen Jesus face to face, they hadn’t talked with him in the flesh. These people were not the Apostles. These were the people of God in each village who then went on to spread the Gospel from house to house, from neighbour to neighbour and friend to friend and family to family.

The whole of the laity, the whole people of God, become inspired and equipped by the Holy Spirit for mission. Not just the twelve, not just the Apostles, and today, not just the ordained! It is the laity, the people of God, who with the power of the Holy Spirit, witness and win souls to Jesus Christ and nurture those souls into maturity. This doesn’t shirk off the responsibilities of the clergy, because clergy are actually laity as well. But this is a reminder of the responsibilities of the non-ordained laity in mission and ministry.

So that’s what happened in that first century. It was a great century of Christian expansion. The Church went to Ephesus, to Rome, and onto Spain within thirty years. From farm to farm, from village to village, town to town. It was spread across the whole known world. It was like a spreading flame.

The year is now 2010, and what has happened to the flame of Jesus Christ? The flame of Jesus Christ is still spreading all over the Earth like wildfire. 33% of the nearly 7 billion people on earth today identify themselves as Christian. That’s one in every three people! The flame of Christianity is spreading across Africa, across Latin America, and across Asia. It has to do with ordinary people, touched by God's Spirit, who understand that ‘nothing kindles fire like fire.’ It has to do with people who understand this not only in their heads but also burn in their hearts with the power of Pentecost. It’s always the laity empowered by the Holy Spirit that makes the difference.

Let’s think about Christianity in England for a moment. Apparently 60% of people in England consider themselves Christian, but only about 2% of those attend church regularly, at least once a month. A Gallup poll asked people around the globe: “Is your religion very important to you?” In this poll, England came out amongst the ranks of the least religious countries alongside many other prosperous developed countries. It is possible for faith to grow cold to the Spirit of Pentecost.

In the book of Revelation, the Church in Ephesus had grown cold and indifferent to God’s purpose in the world. Is it possible for the laity to no longer be on fire by the power of Jesus Christ? Is it possible for a church to gradually become a self-contained unit that has lost all sense of evangelism and mission? The answer to that question is a tragic “yes.”

The primary mission for the first Christians was to go out into the world, teaching, baptizing and making disciples. Christians today must still speak openly and boldly about Jesus Christ. The purpose of the Holy Spirit’s power is the same today as it was 2000 years ago: to give Christians courage, stamina, and boldness, to give us the wisdom to handle the tensions, frustrations and rejection. Because it takes courage to speak to our neighbours and friends and family about Jesus and his impact on our lives.

In relation to the Ascension, Frank has been asking in recent sermons, ‘do we really believe that Jesus is Lord’? St. Paul said in 1 Cor 12:3, that ‘no-one can say, “Jesus is Lord,” except by the Holy Spirit’. In terms of Pentecost, then, we are challenged to ask ourselves, do we really believe that the Holy Spirit lives in us and will empower us with the strength and courage we need to be his witnesses here in our community, and beyond?

For many of us, one of the most difficult things to do is to talk to somebody about Jesus Christ. We can easily talk with our neighbour about many topics: the weather, gardens, slugs, landscaping, family, pets, politics, or sports. We can talk so easily about so many things, but it’s much more difficult to talk ‘one to one’ about Jesus Christ.

We’re afraid for all kinds of reasons. We don’t want to be pushy about Jesus or about church. As the saying goes, “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink.” People know where the house of Jesus Christ is; they can find it; they can drink if they want to. We also don’t want to be identified with the Jehovah’s Witnesses or Mormons dressed in dark suits and ringing the doorbell. We don’t want to be thought of as ‘weird’. We just find it uncomfortable to talk naturally about our faith to another person.

Many of us never learned to talk about Christ because we didn’t really need to. Not so long ago, nearly everyone in the UK went to church. But today, we’re living in a different context; it’s a different culture. Today is a new ball game, and there are huge numbers of people around us that don’t know the truth about Christ and have never been part of the church.

I remember a time before I was ordained, when I was at a barbeque at my neighbour’s house. We were enjoying the warm summer’s evening, when the conversation turned to the field of science. Both my neighbour and I have science backgrounds. Suddenly my neighbour said to me, ‘I don’t know how you can believe in God, since you work in science’. When she said that, all the other guests (none of whom were church-goers) went quiet and turned to listen to my response.

I remember sending up a quick silent prayer for the Spirit to be with me, and then I gave an answer from the heart that somehow held together my belief in God and my appreciation and wonder of scientific discoveries. I said something about how amazing the universe is, and how amazing life on Earth is, and how to me, that points to a creative God. I know that I couldn’t have said what I said, in the way that I said it, without the help of the Spirit. The people listening were thoughtful for a moment, and then the conversation gently and naturally moved on. I knew that God had given me the courage, the inner strength and the right words to speak. And God’s Spirit was planting small seeds in those people.

Many people want to talk about faith and God; they just don’t usually get the opportunity. Reminding ourselves of the power of the Spirit to equip us, we need to start up conversations with people about Jesus. We need to make it known that we are believers. The past religious silence is no longer adequate for this new day. The old wineskins won’t do for the new wine of the Kingdom!

The purpose of Pentecost is to create Pentecostal Christians out of ordinary people like you and me. Before the Spirit came, the believers had been huddling in safety and collected holiness. After the Spirit, the believers were compelled out into the streets. They began to live the life hinted at by Christ. Pentecost is their story and it’s our story, too. The Spirit is a life-changer. I remember telling a friend where I used to work at the university that I was a Christian – she said, ‘well, that’s ok, so long as it doesn’t take over your whole life’!

Well, it SHOULD take over our whole life. With the Holy Spirit, we simply cannot remain bystanders observing the world from a safe distance; with the Holy Spirit, we allow ourselves to be caught up in the very real and risky drama of God in the world.

Lord, may our eyes be opened and our hearts filled as we celebrate your ever-present Spirit and the birth of the Church, and may we welcome the Spirit’s empowerment for the journey ahead as you lead your Church in mission and in ministry. Amen.

Ascension Day: Acts 1:1-11; Luke 24:44-53

We’re living in interesting times. Here in Britain, we have a new government – a coalition government, in fact. It’s a warm, cosy ‘love-in’, according to the media. (Just so long as the new Prime Minister continues to wear his blue tie, and the Deputy to wear his orange tie, then I’ll be able to tell Cameron and Clegg apart!). The Conservatives and the Liberal Democrats are to govern by cooperation - and I’m sure we all wish them ‘good luck’ with that!

You might be asking yourself, ‘what does any of this have to do with Ascension Day?!’ Well, we could say that from Ascension Day, there was a ‘coalition’ set in motion between God and the Church. Jesus having been appointed as King, invited the elected disciples to form the Church, and then they are clothed with power from on high. But for that to happen, Jesus first had to ‘ascend into heaven’. I’d like to focus on two little words with regards to the Ascension: ‘how’ and ‘why’. They are little words, with very big implications which are important for us to understand as witnesses for Jesus in the world today.

Thinking about how the ascension happened takes us back to the resurrection, and what sort of body Jesus had after the resurrection. We know that his resurrected body was a visible body, of course, because the bible says that he was seen by many people. Jesus demonstrated that his resurrected body was flesh and blood by eating with his disciples and allowing Thomas to touch his wounds.

But we also know that his resurrected body was a transformed body. The bible reports that the resurrected Jesus was able to walk through doors, and to appear and disappear at will. And with this transformed body, Jesus ascended into heaven. But the main theme I want to cover now is the ‘why’ of the ascension.

Several places in the Bible give us insight into why the ascension happened, and Jesus himself provides at least four answers to this question. All of these reasons for the Ascension are important, but a key purpose is that Jesus must sit ‘at the right hand of God the Father’; in Matthew 26 at his so-called ‘trial’, Jesus said to the chief priests and the Sanhedrin, ‘In the future you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One..."

In Acts chap. 2, the apostle Peter states: ‘God has raised this Jesus to life, and we are all witnesses of the fact. Exalted to the right hand of God, he has received from the Father the promised Holy Spirit and has poured out what you now see and hear.’ Peter quotes from Psalm 110: ‘The Lord said to my Lord: "Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet."’ ‘Therefore’, Peter continues, ‘let all Israel be assured of this: God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ.’

The theologian Karl Barth said that Christ being ‘seated at the right hand of the Father’ is "the first and the last thing that matters for our existence in time," and “Whatever prosperity or defeat may occur in our space, whatever may become and pass away, there is one constant, one thing that remains and continues, this sitting of His at the right hand of God the Father.” And this we can understand as truth, because of the belief which is central to our Christian faith that Jesus is Lord. In the Creed, we say that we believe Jesus ‘ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.’ But I also wonder whether this language and this imagery could be a barrier for some people.

I read a report recently on the spirituality of people who don’t go to Church. It was based on ‘research conversations’ with people who expressed a spiritual awareness, but for one reason or another they weren’t able to relate their spirituality to traditional Church worship. One interesting point brought up by one of the research subjects concerned that imagery of Jesus ‘sitting at the right hand of God the Father’. Jesus seemed too distant. This man’s experience of God was more personal than that – his experience of God’s presence was closer than that. But we know from the bible and from some of our own personal experiences, that even though Jesus is now in the currently separate realm we call heaven, he is personally present with people by his Spirit, which is at work in all of creation. Because of the Spirit, Jesus could assure us as we read in Matthew 28, ‘I am with you always, to the very end of the age.’

And as we find in John’s gospel chapter 16, the Ascension was necessary to enable the Spirit to come with special power on the newly formed Church: Jesus says, ‘I tell you the truth: It is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Counsellor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you.’ And from the heavenly realm Jesus continues to send his Spirit to empower the Church. We’ll look deeper into this particular outcome of the Ascension in 10 days time when we celebrate Pentecost.

Another reason why Jesus ascended to heaven, which we read in John 14, was to ‘prepare a place’ for us, in one of the ‘many rooms’ in his Father’s house. Jesus said: "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.’ From this wonderful passage, which is often read and preached on at funerals, we sense the depth of God’s love for us, and the desire of Jesus to be close to us. And until he comes again, he is with us by his Spirit.

Some doctrines stress the transcendence of God: that God is above us, different from us, free from us, and rules over us. Others stress the immanence of God: that God is with us, like us, available to us, and in us.

And so we try to strike a balance: God is both far and near, over and in, different and alike. Until the new creation comes in all its fullness, there will always be a tension between the transcendence of God and the immanence of God. But God’s transcendence and immanence come together distinctively at the point of creation, at the incarnation, and most definitively when Jesus comes again.

Which leads to my final point: the future return of Jesus – revealed through the words of Jesus in the gospels, and also in the first reading we had this morning from the 1st chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, where Luke reports that ‘[the apostles] were looking intently up into the sky as [Jesus] was going, when suddenly two men dressed in white stood beside them. "Men of Galilee," they said, "why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven."

Another passage of scripture often read at funerals is Revelation chap. 21, which describes again with comforting imagery what it will be like after Jesus comes back and the new heaven and new earth are in place: a voice from the throne says, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" So the ascension was a necessary part of preparation for the new creation to come, which is already in its infancy, with a new covenant and a new government in place, and with Jesus Christ as Lord.

I have to say, as is the case with British politics, it takes a fair amount of effort to understand all the ramifications of the Ascension. Let me summarise, then, the four reasons or effects of the Ascension: first, it enabled Jesus to take his place of glory and power. Second, it enabled the Spirit to empower the Church. Third, it enabled Jesus to prepare a place for us with him. And fourth, it enabled the whole of the Trinity to move forward with the New Creation. I’m sure you’ll now all be able to explain the significance of the ascension to anyone on the street... (perhaps our new Liberal/Conservative government relatively easier to understand by comparison). Although our new government coalition says their mission is ‘to work together for the good of the country’, it’s probably safe to say that each party will want to pursue their own self-interests. Who knows how it will all work out?

But that’s when the difference between a politician-led coalition and a Christ-led coalition is plain - the Holy Trinity have now got just one mission agenda: to renew the whole of creation. Jesus is Lord, and in the end, every knee will bow to him. We are not invited to change God’s agenda, but we are invited to participate in building God’s kingdom.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done - on earth as it is in heaven - Amen.