Monday, 18 January 2010
On Haiti
In preparing yesterday's sermon, I had wanted to say something about Haiti - wanting somehow to find a way of speaking about God's abundant grace (signified by the water turned to wine) even amidst the terrible and devastating crisis of Haiti's earthquake. I ran out of prep time in the end and couldn't find a way. I am so glad to have found that someone else did find a way to express what I could not. Please read this sermon from Nadia Bolz-Weber at Sarcastic Lutheran.
Sunday, 17 January 2010
Water into Wine
John 2:1-11
I don’t know about you, but I find it reassuring whenever we’re told of Jesus doing normal things like eating and drinking, as it reveals something to us about the human side of Jesus. In today’s gospel reading, Jesus affirms the joy of human celebration. And at the wedding in Cana, the situation has become critical for the bridegroom when the wine runs out.
In contrast to many weddings today, where we can probably expect to get a complimentary drink for the toast, but after that it’s buy your own at the bar – at the time John’s gospel was written, at a Jewish wedding the wine was expected to flow freely. And in that context, it wasn’t just family and friends – these weddings usually involved the whole village and lasted for a week with guests coming and going all the time. Can you imagine the cost of providing hospitality like this? And it was the bridegroom’s responsibility to ensure there was enough wine for the whole period. To run out of wine was not just a social embarrassment, it meant a serious loss of family honour.
So they had run out of wine at this wedding in Cana, and Mary takes it upon herself to let Jesus know, with a hint of expectancy in her voice. “They have no more wine”, she says to him. OK, as a mother myself, I admit we can be a little pushy at times with our children, but think of Mary - in her heart she has always known who Jesus was. His identity had been revealed to her even before his conception. She has watched him grow into maturity, now ready take up the role for which he had been born, the role for which, as we heard last Sunday, he had been commissioned into by his baptism.
“Woman, why do you involve me”, Jesus answers. "My time has not yet come". You might think Jesus’ words would’ve discouraged her, but Mary’s response comes as somewhat of a surprise as she says to the servants, ‘Do whatever he tells you’. And for whatever reason, Jesus decides to act. Perhaps he realises the opportunity this situation provides to reveal to his disciples, in a way that would resonate deeply with them, who he is, and what he is about. This is the first miraculous sign Jesus performs in John’s gospel, and the whole event is positively soaked in symbolism.
With its great feast, a Jewish wedding is like a picture of the feast that awaits the people of God in heaven, and we can see a similar illustration in the Parable of the Wedding Banquet in Matthew 22. The symbolism continues with the figure of the bridegroom: the bridegroom in the wedding at Cana has been rescued from dishonour by Jesus who is the symbolic Bridegroom of his people.
And we can find this reference to Jesus as the bridegroom all over the New Testament. For example, earlier in John 3, John the Baptist refers to Christ as the bridegroom when he says, ‘The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him, and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom's voice. That joy is mine, and it is now complete.’
And in the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke, when Jesus is questioned by the Pharisees about the fact that his disciples weren’t fasting on the Sabbath, his reply is to tell them that the guests of the bridegroom cannot fast while they are with him, though the time will come when he will be taken from them, and then they will fast.
The bridegroom also features in the parable of the Ten Virgins in Matthew 25, along with Ephesians 5 and Revelation 19 where Christ again is represented as a bridegroom awaiting his bride. So the setting of a wedding and the role of the bridegroom both include a good deal of symbolism on which we can reflect; but there is more. ‘They have no wine’ – Mary says to Jesus. The end of the wine is symbolic for the end of the old way of trying to please God, as he begins to reveal a new way of drawing us close to him through Christ. The old covenant under the Law of Moses has become obsolete, and the new covenant is being established by Jesus – a covenant of grace and forgiveness.
Wine symbolises life and joy – Psalm 104 speaks of the Lord providing plants for us to cultivate for food and wine, which 'gladdens human hearts'. The prophets foretold of an abundance of wine in the messianic days – as it says in Amos 9: ‘New wine will drip from the mountains and flow from all the hills.’ This paints a thriving picture of abundance, and at the wedding the jars are filled ‘to the brim’, continuing the theme of abundance, and signifying the abundant grace we receive from God through Jesus.
The water jars that Jesus uses to perform this sign are described as ‘the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing’. Few of us here today have a Jewish background, so we might not immediately attach significance to this, but by using these particular jars, Jesus was making a statement that God is doing a new thing from within the old Jewish system, bringing purification to Israel and to the world in a whole new way. And this would have been recognised by those who were watching what Jesus did. The jars also held a really large quantity – around 100 litres of water each. With six of them, that’s 600 litres! God’s desire is that we would recognise who Jesus is, so that we might receive the fullness of his abundant grace.
As a whole, the sign of water turned into wine points to Jesus as the one who has come to do a new thing; to provide the new blessing; to transform the old vision of what God wanted with his people from a system of laws that became corrupt and absurd, to where the whole point was being missed – to transform that into a new and simpler and freer rule of love, grace, faith and trust in what he has done, and what he is able to do for us when we let him.
It’s interesting that in John’s gospel none of the miracles are called miracles they are called ‘signs’. They’re called signs because they point people to Jesus and who he is. John’s hope is that in reading about the signs Jesus performed as part of his Gospel’s overall testimony, we would come to belief that Jesus is the Saviour, and the Way to the Father, who awaits us with love in abundance. We weren’t at the wedding in Cana. We didn’t actually see the miraculous sign of water transformed into wine. We didn’t see first-hand any of the signs in John’s gospel. But as Jesus says in John chapter 20, ‘Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed’.
And yet, the thing is, when we come to trust in him, we should ourselves become signs– we should display signs of growth and a transformed life. Let’s not be like the road sign I’ve seen that says, ‘this sign is not in use’. Let’s be clear and bright signs that point to Jesus our Saviour, the one who meets our needs both at times of crisis and at times of joy; the one who offers to all the new wine of the kingdom. Amen.
I don’t know about you, but I find it reassuring whenever we’re told of Jesus doing normal things like eating and drinking, as it reveals something to us about the human side of Jesus. In today’s gospel reading, Jesus affirms the joy of human celebration. And at the wedding in Cana, the situation has become critical for the bridegroom when the wine runs out.
In contrast to many weddings today, where we can probably expect to get a complimentary drink for the toast, but after that it’s buy your own at the bar – at the time John’s gospel was written, at a Jewish wedding the wine was expected to flow freely. And in that context, it wasn’t just family and friends – these weddings usually involved the whole village and lasted for a week with guests coming and going all the time. Can you imagine the cost of providing hospitality like this? And it was the bridegroom’s responsibility to ensure there was enough wine for the whole period. To run out of wine was not just a social embarrassment, it meant a serious loss of family honour.
So they had run out of wine at this wedding in Cana, and Mary takes it upon herself to let Jesus know, with a hint of expectancy in her voice. “They have no more wine”, she says to him. OK, as a mother myself, I admit we can be a little pushy at times with our children, but think of Mary - in her heart she has always known who Jesus was. His identity had been revealed to her even before his conception. She has watched him grow into maturity, now ready take up the role for which he had been born, the role for which, as we heard last Sunday, he had been commissioned into by his baptism.
“Woman, why do you involve me”, Jesus answers. "My time has not yet come". You might think Jesus’ words would’ve discouraged her, but Mary’s response comes as somewhat of a surprise as she says to the servants, ‘Do whatever he tells you’. And for whatever reason, Jesus decides to act. Perhaps he realises the opportunity this situation provides to reveal to his disciples, in a way that would resonate deeply with them, who he is, and what he is about. This is the first miraculous sign Jesus performs in John’s gospel, and the whole event is positively soaked in symbolism.
With its great feast, a Jewish wedding is like a picture of the feast that awaits the people of God in heaven, and we can see a similar illustration in the Parable of the Wedding Banquet in Matthew 22. The symbolism continues with the figure of the bridegroom: the bridegroom in the wedding at Cana has been rescued from dishonour by Jesus who is the symbolic Bridegroom of his people.
And we can find this reference to Jesus as the bridegroom all over the New Testament. For example, earlier in John 3, John the Baptist refers to Christ as the bridegroom when he says, ‘The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him, and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom's voice. That joy is mine, and it is now complete.’
And in the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke, when Jesus is questioned by the Pharisees about the fact that his disciples weren’t fasting on the Sabbath, his reply is to tell them that the guests of the bridegroom cannot fast while they are with him, though the time will come when he will be taken from them, and then they will fast.
The bridegroom also features in the parable of the Ten Virgins in Matthew 25, along with Ephesians 5 and Revelation 19 where Christ again is represented as a bridegroom awaiting his bride. So the setting of a wedding and the role of the bridegroom both include a good deal of symbolism on which we can reflect; but there is more. ‘They have no wine’ – Mary says to Jesus. The end of the wine is symbolic for the end of the old way of trying to please God, as he begins to reveal a new way of drawing us close to him through Christ. The old covenant under the Law of Moses has become obsolete, and the new covenant is being established by Jesus – a covenant of grace and forgiveness.
Wine symbolises life and joy – Psalm 104 speaks of the Lord providing plants for us to cultivate for food and wine, which 'gladdens human hearts'. The prophets foretold of an abundance of wine in the messianic days – as it says in Amos 9: ‘New wine will drip from the mountains and flow from all the hills.’ This paints a thriving picture of abundance, and at the wedding the jars are filled ‘to the brim’, continuing the theme of abundance, and signifying the abundant grace we receive from God through Jesus.
The water jars that Jesus uses to perform this sign are described as ‘the kind used by the Jews for ceremonial washing’. Few of us here today have a Jewish background, so we might not immediately attach significance to this, but by using these particular jars, Jesus was making a statement that God is doing a new thing from within the old Jewish system, bringing purification to Israel and to the world in a whole new way. And this would have been recognised by those who were watching what Jesus did. The jars also held a really large quantity – around 100 litres of water each. With six of them, that’s 600 litres! God’s desire is that we would recognise who Jesus is, so that we might receive the fullness of his abundant grace.
As a whole, the sign of water turned into wine points to Jesus as the one who has come to do a new thing; to provide the new blessing; to transform the old vision of what God wanted with his people from a system of laws that became corrupt and absurd, to where the whole point was being missed – to transform that into a new and simpler and freer rule of love, grace, faith and trust in what he has done, and what he is able to do for us when we let him.
It’s interesting that in John’s gospel none of the miracles are called miracles they are called ‘signs’. They’re called signs because they point people to Jesus and who he is. John’s hope is that in reading about the signs Jesus performed as part of his Gospel’s overall testimony, we would come to belief that Jesus is the Saviour, and the Way to the Father, who awaits us with love in abundance. We weren’t at the wedding in Cana. We didn’t actually see the miraculous sign of water transformed into wine. We didn’t see first-hand any of the signs in John’s gospel. But as Jesus says in John chapter 20, ‘Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed’.
And yet, the thing is, when we come to trust in him, we should ourselves become signs– we should display signs of growth and a transformed life. Let’s not be like the road sign I’ve seen that says, ‘this sign is not in use’. Let’s be clear and bright signs that point to Jesus our Saviour, the one who meets our needs both at times of crisis and at times of joy; the one who offers to all the new wine of the kingdom. Amen.
Sunday, 10 January 2010
The Baptism of Christ - Luke 3:15-22
Let us pray: Heavenly Father, your voice proclaimed the sonship of Jesus, as he humbly submitted to the baptism of John; help us now, as your children, to be humble and open to your Spirit and to your Word. Amen.
The Christian year moves quickly, doesn’t it? Beginning with the start of Advent at the end of November, we’ve travelled the journey to the Incarnation and the Epiphany, and suddenly in a flash, Jesus is 30 years old! Here we are, spectators at his Baptism which kick-starts Jesus into the ministry of his mission.
It’s appropriate that his Baptism is placed within the season of Epiphany because it falls into category of ‘manifestation’, which is of course what the word Epiphany means. All three members of the Trinity are manifest at this baptism. Jesus, the Son, is present in human flesh. The Father is present by his voice, declaring his approval of the Son. The Spirit is present, appearing as a dove which descends upon Jesus, empowering him at the beginning of his public ministry.
This baptism was a decisive point in Christ's mission: it was his inauguration as the Messiah, ready to bring God's salvation in fulfilment of the prophecies. God is for us; redemption is his work, and we are blessed as witnesses through these Holy Scriptures to his divine action, at its very inception.
The baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist is described in fair detail in Matthew 3, more briefly in Mark 1, and only just mentioned in our reading from Luke 3; in John’s gospel it is not mentioned at all, but presumed in ch. 1. A fundamental element of all the narratives, though, is that at his baptism Jesus was anointed with the Spirit; and this event propels him into his ministry.
Immediately after the experience of the Spirit, the voice comes from heaven: "You are my Son, whom I love." The significance of the ‘sonship’ of Jesus is one of service to the Father rather than a reference to Jesus' divine nature. It is to do with his mission rather than his nature of being.
So Jesus submits to the baptism of John, which was a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Why did he do that? John’s mission was to call a sinful and self-righteous people to turn quickly before the coming judgment: "The axe is already at the root of the trees", John says in Luke 3:9. But Jesus was not a sinner. He did not need to repent! In Matthew's gospel, John the Baptist protests at the inappropriateness of Jesus coming to be baptized by him. But the reason Jesus insists is because one of the functions of his baptism is to mark his solidarity with his people. By this act, he takes upon himself their condition and their predicament, because the Incarnation was not just about his coming to earth but also about his assuming the burdens that we have of life in the flesh. Because of this, Jesus is able to intercede for us. The Father's Son speaks to his people through Jesus, and he also speaks for his people to the Father. He is our mediator. By his baptism, Jesus is identified with the Father, with the Spirit, and with us.
Let’s think now about the water of baptism. Traditionally, even before Jesus, baptism in water was practiced by the people of the Old Testament, as well as people who belonged to pagan religions. The universal symbolism of immersion in water is that of being cleansed, to start anew; of dying to the old and rising to a new fresh way of life. Water cleanses, refreshes and sustains.
When Jesus immersed himself in the waters of the Jordan River, it was an immersion into the Father’s will for a new start. In his baptism, Jesus identified himself with the Father’s will to secure our redemption. Jesus was obedient to the plan and the will of God. When he went under the water at his baptism, it symbolized his death on the cross and his burial, the ultimate expression of non-power. And when he came up out of the water, it symbolized his resurrection. For that reason, the baptism of Chris symbolises his mission to die on the cross for the sins of the whole world and be raised from the dead in victory over sin and death. No one else will ever undergo the same kind of baptism that Christ went through – his baptism was unique.
How about our baptism? Our baptism symbolises our identification with Christ: with his death, his burial and his resurrection. In Romans 6:3-4 it says: 'All of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death. We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.'
When a believer is baptised in water this symbolises being placed into Christ. When the believer comes up out of the water, it signifies being born again into new life, which is most powerfully acted out in full-immersion baptisms. Christian water baptism identifies us with Jesus Christ in his death, his burial and his resurrection, standing for what has already been accomplished through Christ. It’s an acknowledgment of our faith and trust in Christ; when we rejoice in what he has done for us, and we make some serious promises to God. We die to our old way of life and rise to a new way of living. We accept our commission into his service.
This is why the practice of infant baptism is controversial in some areas of the Church. To me it underlines why it is so important for parents and godparents to understand well the deep significance of baptism. And it underlines the importance of Confirmation, and pre-confirmation teaching, as those who were baptised as infants become able to take on their baptismal vows for themselves, with a firm commitment to follow Christ’s calling for a new life.
That new life begins whenever we say ‘yes’ in faith – to the hand Jesus holds out to us, and to the invitation he gives us to participate in the mission of God. What did Jesus do after his baptism? Jesus wasn’t a party-pooper, but I doubt if he had the kind of party that follows many baptisms today. It says in Luke chapter 4 that he was ‘led by the Spirit’ into the desert – where he went through temptation, again out of solidarity with us, but he resisted, and moved forward - forward in his mission and ministry.
Just a bit further on in Luke 4, we find Jesus in the synagogue, reading out from the scroll of Isaiah: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour’. And to those gathered around him, he says: ‘Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing’. From here on, what Jesus does is to invite participation, as he proclaims something new, revealing the freedom created by the Spirit, and speaking judgment upon the old system, whose only fruit was oppression. And that must be our solidarity with him.
Our baptism is the acceptance and acknowledgment of our solidarity with the ministry of Jesus and the mission of God in Christ, charged by his baptism. Thankfully, the Lord of our new life is also our brother on the road. He has walked the way before us; he is alongside us and within us, when we move forward in trust and in the knowledge that we are loved by God, anointed and empowered by the Spirit, to live by faith with hope.
Let us pray: Beloved Son of God, baptised by John, we praise you and marvel at your humility. You are one with us in baptism: take us with you into the kingdom. You are one with us in humanity: lead us into the love of the Father, to whom be thanksgiving now and always. Amen.
The Christian year moves quickly, doesn’t it? Beginning with the start of Advent at the end of November, we’ve travelled the journey to the Incarnation and the Epiphany, and suddenly in a flash, Jesus is 30 years old! Here we are, spectators at his Baptism which kick-starts Jesus into the ministry of his mission.
It’s appropriate that his Baptism is placed within the season of Epiphany because it falls into category of ‘manifestation’, which is of course what the word Epiphany means. All three members of the Trinity are manifest at this baptism. Jesus, the Son, is present in human flesh. The Father is present by his voice, declaring his approval of the Son. The Spirit is present, appearing as a dove which descends upon Jesus, empowering him at the beginning of his public ministry.
This baptism was a decisive point in Christ's mission: it was his inauguration as the Messiah, ready to bring God's salvation in fulfilment of the prophecies. God is for us; redemption is his work, and we are blessed as witnesses through these Holy Scriptures to his divine action, at its very inception.
The baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist is described in fair detail in Matthew 3, more briefly in Mark 1, and only just mentioned in our reading from Luke 3; in John’s gospel it is not mentioned at all, but presumed in ch. 1. A fundamental element of all the narratives, though, is that at his baptism Jesus was anointed with the Spirit; and this event propels him into his ministry.
Immediately after the experience of the Spirit, the voice comes from heaven: "You are my Son, whom I love." The significance of the ‘sonship’ of Jesus is one of service to the Father rather than a reference to Jesus' divine nature. It is to do with his mission rather than his nature of being.
So Jesus submits to the baptism of John, which was a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Why did he do that? John’s mission was to call a sinful and self-righteous people to turn quickly before the coming judgment: "The axe is already at the root of the trees", John says in Luke 3:9. But Jesus was not a sinner. He did not need to repent! In Matthew's gospel, John the Baptist protests at the inappropriateness of Jesus coming to be baptized by him. But the reason Jesus insists is because one of the functions of his baptism is to mark his solidarity with his people. By this act, he takes upon himself their condition and their predicament, because the Incarnation was not just about his coming to earth but also about his assuming the burdens that we have of life in the flesh. Because of this, Jesus is able to intercede for us. The Father's Son speaks to his people through Jesus, and he also speaks for his people to the Father. He is our mediator. By his baptism, Jesus is identified with the Father, with the Spirit, and with us.
Let’s think now about the water of baptism. Traditionally, even before Jesus, baptism in water was practiced by the people of the Old Testament, as well as people who belonged to pagan religions. The universal symbolism of immersion in water is that of being cleansed, to start anew; of dying to the old and rising to a new fresh way of life. Water cleanses, refreshes and sustains.
When Jesus immersed himself in the waters of the Jordan River, it was an immersion into the Father’s will for a new start. In his baptism, Jesus identified himself with the Father’s will to secure our redemption. Jesus was obedient to the plan and the will of God. When he went under the water at his baptism, it symbolized his death on the cross and his burial, the ultimate expression of non-power. And when he came up out of the water, it symbolized his resurrection. For that reason, the baptism of Chris symbolises his mission to die on the cross for the sins of the whole world and be raised from the dead in victory over sin and death. No one else will ever undergo the same kind of baptism that Christ went through – his baptism was unique.
How about our baptism? Our baptism symbolises our identification with Christ: with his death, his burial and his resurrection. In Romans 6:3-4 it says: 'All of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death. We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life.'
When a believer is baptised in water this symbolises being placed into Christ. When the believer comes up out of the water, it signifies being born again into new life, which is most powerfully acted out in full-immersion baptisms. Christian water baptism identifies us with Jesus Christ in his death, his burial and his resurrection, standing for what has already been accomplished through Christ. It’s an acknowledgment of our faith and trust in Christ; when we rejoice in what he has done for us, and we make some serious promises to God. We die to our old way of life and rise to a new way of living. We accept our commission into his service.
This is why the practice of infant baptism is controversial in some areas of the Church. To me it underlines why it is so important for parents and godparents to understand well the deep significance of baptism. And it underlines the importance of Confirmation, and pre-confirmation teaching, as those who were baptised as infants become able to take on their baptismal vows for themselves, with a firm commitment to follow Christ’s calling for a new life.
That new life begins whenever we say ‘yes’ in faith – to the hand Jesus holds out to us, and to the invitation he gives us to participate in the mission of God. What did Jesus do after his baptism? Jesus wasn’t a party-pooper, but I doubt if he had the kind of party that follows many baptisms today. It says in Luke chapter 4 that he was ‘led by the Spirit’ into the desert – where he went through temptation, again out of solidarity with us, but he resisted, and moved forward - forward in his mission and ministry.
Just a bit further on in Luke 4, we find Jesus in the synagogue, reading out from the scroll of Isaiah: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour’. And to those gathered around him, he says: ‘Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing’. From here on, what Jesus does is to invite participation, as he proclaims something new, revealing the freedom created by the Spirit, and speaking judgment upon the old system, whose only fruit was oppression. And that must be our solidarity with him.
Our baptism is the acceptance and acknowledgment of our solidarity with the ministry of Jesus and the mission of God in Christ, charged by his baptism. Thankfully, the Lord of our new life is also our brother on the road. He has walked the way before us; he is alongside us and within us, when we move forward in trust and in the knowledge that we are loved by God, anointed and empowered by the Spirit, to live by faith with hope.
Let us pray: Beloved Son of God, baptised by John, we praise you and marvel at your humility. You are one with us in baptism: take us with you into the kingdom. You are one with us in humanity: lead us into the love of the Father, to whom be thanksgiving now and always. Amen.
Tuesday, 29 December 2009
A Year of Change
For me, this has been a year of immense change.
This is a reflection on the year that is now coming to its end.
The year began badly. In January 2009, my family and I were focussed completely on prayer for my 51-yr-old brother-in-law, who, on February 7, 2009, sadly lost his battle against heart failure. This was devastating for our family, especially my sister and her two children. I never thought that my brother-in-law's funeral would be the first funeral I would conduct. It was a priviledge to spend three weeks with my sister and her family at that time, but it is now even harder living 6000 miles away from her. And another family bereavement in April, the day before Easter, in fact - my dear stepfather passed away unexpectedly while taking a nap. Very peaceful, which is a blessing, but my sweet mother and all of us miss him so much. These two deaths have made an indelible mark on our lives. I thank God that both of these lovely men had developed trusting relationships with the Lord.
At the beginning of this year, I had a totally different job. I worked in a veterinary laboratory for a university, part-time. I have worked in science for 20 years, before my ordination in July of this year. So my job change has been a big change! To be honest, I was so ready to begin full-time ministry that I couldn't wait to leave my old job, even though I had enjoyed the work, and worked with good people. I feel a bit guilty that I haven't yet been back for a visit since I left. But, no regrets about leaving. I am so thankful that this vocational change is proving so fulfilling.
Also at the beginning of the year, I was still in training for ordination. My ordination training course was three years long, and in that time I made some lifelong friends and learned so much. But no theoretical training can prepare anyone for the realities of ordained ministry, I'm now finding out!
In July my mother came over from California for my ordination. What a wonderful day it was! I felt supported by family, friends and parishioners from my sending church and my new parish. Since then, it has felt a bit like a roller-coaster ride: anxiety, suspense, and fear, but also exhilaration, excitement and fun! I've noticed the fear has decreased a lot over the past 6 months, mostly replaced by an adrenaline edge that can be very energising, rather than a hindrance.
We were taught in 'vicar school' that one of the most important things affecting our curacy is our relationship with our training incumbent (the vicar in charge). And in this, I have been blessed, because my training incumbent and I have very similar theologies, and we get along very well. He has a good understanding of different personalities, including his own, and is gracious to people (including me) because of that. He's humble, and that is a big thing. He has allowed me to proceed in this curacy with as little or as much support and direction as I want or need. I know other curates whose training incumbents control virtually their every move, and I wouldn't like that.
In the midst of all the new experiences of meeting so many new people in the parish, taking different kinds of services, regular preaching, conducting funerals, and working together in a ministry team towards an exciting new future for the parish, I have found it challenging to keep up the home front. My husband and children have adapted very well to all the changes, but it isn't easy for any of us. I now work a lot at home, if I'm not out visiting people or at church. I do short bursts of housework in between doing ministry-related things. But even after everyone else gets home from school or from work, I continue to do both housework and ministry work. So it can feel a bit unfair, and like I'm working all the time. And that can be draining. I don't think I've learned yet how to take time out for myself that would refresh me. And I really could do with getting more exercise. I try hard to minimise the effects this new 'job' could have on my husband and children, but there isn't much time left for me. I have, however, managed to find time to re-connect with many of my old friends from high school through Facebook, which has been really satisfying and heart-warming. What great memories, and how wonderful to see people as they are now (they've aged, like I have! lol).
I'm excited about the coming year. Many new things are going to begin at church, offering new training experiences for me. And I'll continue trying to keep everything running smoothly at home. I'm looking forward to the summer when I will be ordained as a priest, and the additional changes that will bring to my ministry. And my lovely mother, sister, and niece and nephew are coming over to England this summer, too. I hope it is a brighter year, but whatever happens, I know that God is with me. I will sign off with one of my favourite Old Testament quotes: Joshua 1:9
Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified or discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.
This is a reflection on the year that is now coming to its end.
The year began badly. In January 2009, my family and I were focussed completely on prayer for my 51-yr-old brother-in-law, who, on February 7, 2009, sadly lost his battle against heart failure. This was devastating for our family, especially my sister and her two children. I never thought that my brother-in-law's funeral would be the first funeral I would conduct. It was a priviledge to spend three weeks with my sister and her family at that time, but it is now even harder living 6000 miles away from her. And another family bereavement in April, the day before Easter, in fact - my dear stepfather passed away unexpectedly while taking a nap. Very peaceful, which is a blessing, but my sweet mother and all of us miss him so much. These two deaths have made an indelible mark on our lives. I thank God that both of these lovely men had developed trusting relationships with the Lord.
At the beginning of this year, I had a totally different job. I worked in a veterinary laboratory for a university, part-time. I have worked in science for 20 years, before my ordination in July of this year. So my job change has been a big change! To be honest, I was so ready to begin full-time ministry that I couldn't wait to leave my old job, even though I had enjoyed the work, and worked with good people. I feel a bit guilty that I haven't yet been back for a visit since I left. But, no regrets about leaving. I am so thankful that this vocational change is proving so fulfilling.
Also at the beginning of the year, I was still in training for ordination. My ordination training course was three years long, and in that time I made some lifelong friends and learned so much. But no theoretical training can prepare anyone for the realities of ordained ministry, I'm now finding out!
In July my mother came over from California for my ordination. What a wonderful day it was! I felt supported by family, friends and parishioners from my sending church and my new parish. Since then, it has felt a bit like a roller-coaster ride: anxiety, suspense, and fear, but also exhilaration, excitement and fun! I've noticed the fear has decreased a lot over the past 6 months, mostly replaced by an adrenaline edge that can be very energising, rather than a hindrance.
We were taught in 'vicar school' that one of the most important things affecting our curacy is our relationship with our training incumbent (the vicar in charge). And in this, I have been blessed, because my training incumbent and I have very similar theologies, and we get along very well. He has a good understanding of different personalities, including his own, and is gracious to people (including me) because of that. He's humble, and that is a big thing. He has allowed me to proceed in this curacy with as little or as much support and direction as I want or need. I know other curates whose training incumbents control virtually their every move, and I wouldn't like that.
In the midst of all the new experiences of meeting so many new people in the parish, taking different kinds of services, regular preaching, conducting funerals, and working together in a ministry team towards an exciting new future for the parish, I have found it challenging to keep up the home front. My husband and children have adapted very well to all the changes, but it isn't easy for any of us. I now work a lot at home, if I'm not out visiting people or at church. I do short bursts of housework in between doing ministry-related things. But even after everyone else gets home from school or from work, I continue to do both housework and ministry work. So it can feel a bit unfair, and like I'm working all the time. And that can be draining. I don't think I've learned yet how to take time out for myself that would refresh me. And I really could do with getting more exercise. I try hard to minimise the effects this new 'job' could have on my husband and children, but there isn't much time left for me. I have, however, managed to find time to re-connect with many of my old friends from high school through Facebook, which has been really satisfying and heart-warming. What great memories, and how wonderful to see people as they are now (they've aged, like I have! lol).
I'm excited about the coming year. Many new things are going to begin at church, offering new training experiences for me. And I'll continue trying to keep everything running smoothly at home. I'm looking forward to the summer when I will be ordained as a priest, and the additional changes that will bring to my ministry. And my lovely mother, sister, and niece and nephew are coming over to England this summer, too. I hope it is a brighter year, but whatever happens, I know that God is with me. I will sign off with one of my favourite Old Testament quotes: Joshua 1:9
Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified or discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.
Saturday, 26 December 2009
The Word became flesh and dwelt among us
John 1:1-14
I was really excited to see our gospel reading for this Christmas morning – it contains some of my favourite verses of scripture. The prologue of John’s gospel is so poetically written; it has been described as a Hymn to the Word, and it fires our imagination on a completely different level than the more commonly set Christmas accounts of the birth of Jesus.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. Anyone reading this for the first time might find it a bit hard to get their head round it! Aren’t ‘words’ just neutral, inert things we use to communicate? What does a ‘word’ have to do with God???
In our Old Testament reading, the Lord spoke the good news to his people through his prophets: ‘Listen!’ Isaiah shouts. Jerusalem is redeemed! The Lord’s favour has returned to Zion, and a new day dawns for captive Israel. The action of God, communicated by the ‘spoken’ word.
In our New Testament reading, the written word called The Letter to the Hebrews, it is accepted that God speaks to us in various ways, and notably through the prophets, but the writer states, ‘in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son’. Note the writer didn’t write that God has spoken to us through his son, as he had spoken through the prophets, but that he has spoken to us ‘by’ his Son. By the very existence of his Son, God speaks to us.
And here in John’s gospel is the description of a Word that is neither printed nor verbal, but which is the Word… an embodied Word! ‘The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us’ – and a new day has dawned. The action of God, communicated and embodied by the incarnation.
‘Word’ is our English translation of the ancient philosophical concept of Logos. Western culture today isn’t really too hot on philosophical concepts. Alas, for the time being, the love of wisdom and truth seems to have been sidelined by the love of consumerism and celebrities. But back in the 1st century AD, the concept of Logos would have been well known; and in the region of Ephesus, where John’s gospel is thought to have been written, it was fairly common for people to discuss philosophy, much like people today might discuss Coronation Street.
300 years before Christ, Aristotle defined logos as the quality of ‘reason’, and it’s from logos that we get the term ‘logic’. And 200 years before Aristotle, the Ephesian philosopher Heraclitus defined the term Logos as the fundamental source of the cosmos. He said that the Logos is eternal, and 'humans always prove unable to understand it...’ That sounds vaguely familiar: ‘The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it’…
So our gospel writer John makes good use of this well-known concept of his time by creatively developing it to express who Jesus is to his readers: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… [And] the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.
Prompted by something I was reading on these verses, I wondered if we could come up with our own poetically imaginative ‘logos’ parallel for our context. The common experience shared by people living in our area has to do with living by the water. Water is essential for the creation of life. And water is fluid, having the properties of ‘continuity’ and the ability to ‘flow’; and even the distinction between solids and fluid is not entirely understood. So if you’ll bear with me in a little light-hearted frivolity this Christmas morning – here’s my attempt at an imaginative, poetic parallel for logos:
The beginning was fluid.
It was fluid with God; fluid was God.
The Fluid became solid flesh and flowed among us.
Ok, maybe not. Anyway, it’s probably not really possible to improve on John’s inspired gospel writing. And his writing was absolutely vital to the early Church in determining an orthodox view of who Christ is. The Church Fathers wanted to distance the Christian logos from that of Heraclitus because his writings were considered to be a source of heresy. The Church didn’t even want to attempt to address ancient philosophy until much later, even though many of the Church Fathers were converted philosophers.
There were other convictions also around at the time, and John’s prologue also answers these: to the rabbis who claimed that the Torah (the Law) existed before creation and was the source of light and life, John replied that these claims apply rather to the Logos. John's answer to the Gnostics who would deny a real incarnation was that "the Word became flesh." And to those who were still following John the Baptist, he made it clear that John was not the Light but only a witness to the Light.
So John our evangelist’s purpose was to clarify the divine identity of Jesus. Our reading from Hebrews also does the same, confirming Jesus as Creator, Revealer, Sustainer, Redeemer, and Exalted one, recognising both who he is and what he has done. Jesus was not merely a messenger; he is the active message, himself.
Here’s something you may or may not know - young people today actually use the term ‘word’ as an affirmation of truth! In other words, ‘Word’ in youth culture is a way of saying ‘yes’! And that fits so well with what the Incarnation means: Jesus is God’s ‘yes’ to us; Jesus is God’s Word to us. The Word made flesh affirms humanity itself and God’s love for humanity. And that’s a word we need to pass on to others!
Today, we celebrate the Word made flesh, who came to dwell among us. Emmanuel – God with us. And we will celebrate his presence with us when we gather round His Table. And though we hold dear the stories of his coming as a baby, lying helpless in a manger, it is good to know that his incarnation means so much more than that. Praise be to God for his Holy Word. Amen.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. Anyone reading this for the first time might find it a bit hard to get their head round it! Aren’t ‘words’ just neutral, inert things we use to communicate? What does a ‘word’ have to do with God???
In our Old Testament reading, the Lord spoke the good news to his people through his prophets: ‘Listen!’ Isaiah shouts. Jerusalem is redeemed! The Lord’s favour has returned to Zion, and a new day dawns for captive Israel. The action of God, communicated by the ‘spoken’ word.
In our New Testament reading, the written word called The Letter to the Hebrews, it is accepted that God speaks to us in various ways, and notably through the prophets, but the writer states, ‘in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son’. Note the writer didn’t write that God has spoken to us through his son, as he had spoken through the prophets, but that he has spoken to us ‘by’ his Son. By the very existence of his Son, God speaks to us.
And here in John’s gospel is the description of a Word that is neither printed nor verbal, but which is the Word… an embodied Word! ‘The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us’ – and a new day has dawned. The action of God, communicated and embodied by the incarnation.
‘Word’ is our English translation of the ancient philosophical concept of Logos. Western culture today isn’t really too hot on philosophical concepts. Alas, for the time being, the love of wisdom and truth seems to have been sidelined by the love of consumerism and celebrities. But back in the 1st century AD, the concept of Logos would have been well known; and in the region of Ephesus, where John’s gospel is thought to have been written, it was fairly common for people to discuss philosophy, much like people today might discuss Coronation Street.
300 years before Christ, Aristotle defined logos as the quality of ‘reason’, and it’s from logos that we get the term ‘logic’. And 200 years before Aristotle, the Ephesian philosopher Heraclitus defined the term Logos as the fundamental source of the cosmos. He said that the Logos is eternal, and 'humans always prove unable to understand it...’ That sounds vaguely familiar: ‘The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it’…
So our gospel writer John makes good use of this well-known concept of his time by creatively developing it to express who Jesus is to his readers: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… [And] the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.
Prompted by something I was reading on these verses, I wondered if we could come up with our own poetically imaginative ‘logos’ parallel for our context. The common experience shared by people living in our area has to do with living by the water. Water is essential for the creation of life. And water is fluid, having the properties of ‘continuity’ and the ability to ‘flow’; and even the distinction between solids and fluid is not entirely understood. So if you’ll bear with me in a little light-hearted frivolity this Christmas morning – here’s my attempt at an imaginative, poetic parallel for logos:
It was fluid with God; fluid was God.
The Fluid became solid flesh and flowed among us.
Ok, maybe not. Anyway, it’s probably not really possible to improve on John’s inspired gospel writing. And his writing was absolutely vital to the early Church in determining an orthodox view of who Christ is. The Church Fathers wanted to distance the Christian logos from that of Heraclitus because his writings were considered to be a source of heresy. The Church didn’t even want to attempt to address ancient philosophy until much later, even though many of the Church Fathers were converted philosophers.
There were other convictions also around at the time, and John’s prologue also answers these: to the rabbis who claimed that the Torah (the Law) existed before creation and was the source of light and life, John replied that these claims apply rather to the Logos. John's answer to the Gnostics who would deny a real incarnation was that "the Word became flesh." And to those who were still following John the Baptist, he made it clear that John was not the Light but only a witness to the Light.
So John our evangelist’s purpose was to clarify the divine identity of Jesus. Our reading from Hebrews also does the same, confirming Jesus as Creator, Revealer, Sustainer, Redeemer, and Exalted one, recognising both who he is and what he has done. Jesus was not merely a messenger; he is the active message, himself.
Here’s something you may or may not know - young people today actually use the term ‘word’ as an affirmation of truth! In other words, ‘Word’ in youth culture is a way of saying ‘yes’! And that fits so well with what the Incarnation means: Jesus is God’s ‘yes’ to us; Jesus is God’s Word to us. The Word made flesh affirms humanity itself and God’s love for humanity. And that’s a word we need to pass on to others!
Today, we celebrate the Word made flesh, who came to dwell among us. Emmanuel – God with us. And we will celebrate his presence with us when we gather round His Table. And though we hold dear the stories of his coming as a baby, lying helpless in a manger, it is good to know that his incarnation means so much more than that. Praise be to God for his Holy Word. Amen.
Thursday, 24 December 2009
Christmas Eve Morning
Luke 1:67-79 - Zechariah's Song
In the late 1960’s, the anthem for the peace movement was John Lennon’s song, Give Peace a Chance. In our Gospel reading this morning, the peace anthem is Zechariah’s Song, telling us that peace is a realistic hope with the coming of the Lord, who will ‘guide our feet into the path of peace’.
The Song of Zechariah is a song of praise and prophecy, flowing out of sheer joy. Nine months prior to this, Zechariah had lost his voice for doubting the angel’s news about his wife Elisabeth bearing a child, never mind a son who would be given the task of preparing the way for the Lord. Zechariah’s tongue was released after he wrote down the instruction, in accordance with the angel’s command, that his son’s name would be ‘John’, and then he burst forth with this Spirit-filled song!
But as we approach the year 2010, at a time when the world is faced with intense global issues, and many of us struggle with desperate personal concerns, is it realistic to believe we’re on the path headed towards ‘peace’? For unless you’ve been hiding in a cave in a mountainous region somewhere, you will all know about the war we’re fighting with an enemy called ‘terror’, which is anything but peaceful. And we probably all know people; perhaps even ourselves, who are struggling right now with major personal problems - illness, bereavement or family conflict.
The bible tells us that our God is a God of peace, and that Jesus is the ‘Prince of Peace’. Yet for some reason, ‘peace’ seems to be in short supply. Yes, we can grasp from Zechariah’s Song that God 'made good' on his promises to David and to Abraham, and remembered his covenant with Israel, with the coming of the Lord. But if our daily experience doesn’t quite seem to match up with Zechariah’s claim about the peace that the Lord’s coming will bring, what shall we make of it? Where is this ‘path of peace’? Or is it all just lip service?
We say ‘peace be with you’ during our worship services. We wish each other 'peace' in our Christmas cards. ‘Peace on earth’ was announced by angels to the shepherds watching over their flocks by night. Jesus said, ‘Blessed are the peacemakers’. But the ‘peace which passes all understanding’ certainly does pass all understanding when we’re often confronted with the complications and conflicts of life.
Peace in the Church can also be strained and hard to come by, in spite of St. Paul’s advice to ‘make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace’, and to ‘let the peace of Christ rule in [our] hearts, since as members of one body [we] were called to peace’. Ideally, the church is the redeemed, unified community of Christ, literally living and sharing the gospel, which is a gospel of peace. But every church knows that the reality can sometimes be quite different.
How, then, can we find this ‘path of peace’? First, we need to know that peace isn’t just an absence of conflict. In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus said that he didn’t come to bring peace, but a sword. The gospel is a radical message! But we know Jesus doesn’t advocate violence - he’s simply being honest about the truth: his teachings will cause opposition and ideological conflicts between families and between nations.
The gospel should challenge us to the core of our very being. And to experience the peace of Christ, most of us will need to let go of some things that we cling to – especially that inner critic, who makes it hard for us to accept God’s forgiveness for things in our past; and also that inner judge, who can make it hard for us to forgive other people’s wrongs against us. On the path of peace, we also need to let go if we cling to a legalistic view of faith, in which there are some who are ‘in’ and some who are most definitely ‘out’; in which we think we all must take the ‘correct’ doctrinal position; and in which we think we have to work hard at being ‘good enough’ to deserve God’s grace and favour.
The path of peace lies way beyond cultural opinions, doctrinal understandings and human judgment. God’s peace is only found in the person and work of Christ, and not in our debates or arguments about him! God’s peace can be found by doing what Paul asks in Romans 15:7 - ‘Accept one another… just as Christ has accepted you.
We won’t experience the peace of Christ if we expect that our faith will give us a life completely free from conflict. It would be easy to fulfil the Great Commission to make disciples if a profession of faith gave an instant and permanent result of peaceful life conditions! But faith isn’t like that. God isn’t pulling puppet strings. But the Spirit will guide our life into the path of peace… into the peace of Christ, when we have faith and trust in him.
We can gain a lovely sense of calm on a crisp winter’s day watching a robin hopping ‘round in the garden. We can have the occasional wonderful moment of tranquillity, and I pray that we will all enjoy at least some of these moments over Christmas. But we only arrive on the true path of peace through our relationship with Christ, and our relationship with the Father through Christ. Embracing this pathway means embracing that relationship.
That relationship brings the peace of knowing that God loves us as we are… and the peace of knowing God as Emmanuel – that God is with us, no matter what the circumstances. He knows about the messy complications of being human, and he’s with us as we walk the bumpy road of life. He even knows the tension between what we experience now
and what we (as Christians) believe is to come.
And His peace has the power to change us, including how we interact with one another. When we come to believe in Jesus, we are a new creation – but another change also happens: we become a community creation. Because the ‘path of peace’ isn’t intended to be a solitary experience; it’s a communal experience – with God and with each other. As we are guided into the path of peace, we are to share the struggles – share the journey. And this Christmas, may we truly know that God is with us, all the way. Amen.
In the late 1960’s, the anthem for the peace movement was John Lennon’s song, Give Peace a Chance. In our Gospel reading this morning, the peace anthem is Zechariah’s Song, telling us that peace is a realistic hope with the coming of the Lord, who will ‘guide our feet into the path of peace’.
The Song of Zechariah is a song of praise and prophecy, flowing out of sheer joy. Nine months prior to this, Zechariah had lost his voice for doubting the angel’s news about his wife Elisabeth bearing a child, never mind a son who would be given the task of preparing the way for the Lord. Zechariah’s tongue was released after he wrote down the instruction, in accordance with the angel’s command, that his son’s name would be ‘John’, and then he burst forth with this Spirit-filled song!
But as we approach the year 2010, at a time when the world is faced with intense global issues, and many of us struggle with desperate personal concerns, is it realistic to believe we’re on the path headed towards ‘peace’? For unless you’ve been hiding in a cave in a mountainous region somewhere, you will all know about the war we’re fighting with an enemy called ‘terror’, which is anything but peaceful. And we probably all know people; perhaps even ourselves, who are struggling right now with major personal problems - illness, bereavement or family conflict.
The bible tells us that our God is a God of peace, and that Jesus is the ‘Prince of Peace’. Yet for some reason, ‘peace’ seems to be in short supply. Yes, we can grasp from Zechariah’s Song that God 'made good' on his promises to David and to Abraham, and remembered his covenant with Israel, with the coming of the Lord. But if our daily experience doesn’t quite seem to match up with Zechariah’s claim about the peace that the Lord’s coming will bring, what shall we make of it? Where is this ‘path of peace’? Or is it all just lip service?
We say ‘peace be with you’ during our worship services. We wish each other 'peace' in our Christmas cards. ‘Peace on earth’ was announced by angels to the shepherds watching over their flocks by night. Jesus said, ‘Blessed are the peacemakers’. But the ‘peace which passes all understanding’ certainly does pass all understanding when we’re often confronted with the complications and conflicts of life.
Peace in the Church can also be strained and hard to come by, in spite of St. Paul’s advice to ‘make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace’, and to ‘let the peace of Christ rule in [our] hearts, since as members of one body [we] were called to peace’. Ideally, the church is the redeemed, unified community of Christ, literally living and sharing the gospel, which is a gospel of peace. But every church knows that the reality can sometimes be quite different.
How, then, can we find this ‘path of peace’? First, we need to know that peace isn’t just an absence of conflict. In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus said that he didn’t come to bring peace, but a sword. The gospel is a radical message! But we know Jesus doesn’t advocate violence - he’s simply being honest about the truth: his teachings will cause opposition and ideological conflicts between families and between nations.
The gospel should challenge us to the core of our very being. And to experience the peace of Christ, most of us will need to let go of some things that we cling to – especially that inner critic, who makes it hard for us to accept God’s forgiveness for things in our past; and also that inner judge, who can make it hard for us to forgive other people’s wrongs against us. On the path of peace, we also need to let go if we cling to a legalistic view of faith, in which there are some who are ‘in’ and some who are most definitely ‘out’; in which we think we all must take the ‘correct’ doctrinal position; and in which we think we have to work hard at being ‘good enough’ to deserve God’s grace and favour.
The path of peace lies way beyond cultural opinions, doctrinal understandings and human judgment. God’s peace is only found in the person and work of Christ, and not in our debates or arguments about him! God’s peace can be found by doing what Paul asks in Romans 15:7 - ‘Accept one another… just as Christ has accepted you.
We won’t experience the peace of Christ if we expect that our faith will give us a life completely free from conflict. It would be easy to fulfil the Great Commission to make disciples if a profession of faith gave an instant and permanent result of peaceful life conditions! But faith isn’t like that. God isn’t pulling puppet strings. But the Spirit will guide our life into the path of peace… into the peace of Christ, when we have faith and trust in him.
We can gain a lovely sense of calm on a crisp winter’s day watching a robin hopping ‘round in the garden. We can have the occasional wonderful moment of tranquillity, and I pray that we will all enjoy at least some of these moments over Christmas. But we only arrive on the true path of peace through our relationship with Christ, and our relationship with the Father through Christ. Embracing this pathway means embracing that relationship.
That relationship brings the peace of knowing that God loves us as we are… and the peace of knowing God as Emmanuel – that God is with us, no matter what the circumstances. He knows about the messy complications of being human, and he’s with us as we walk the bumpy road of life. He even knows the tension between what we experience now
and what we (as Christians) believe is to come.
And His peace has the power to change us, including how we interact with one another. When we come to believe in Jesus, we are a new creation – but another change also happens: we become a community creation. Because the ‘path of peace’ isn’t intended to be a solitary experience; it’s a communal experience – with God and with each other. As we are guided into the path of peace, we are to share the struggles – share the journey. And this Christmas, may we truly know that God is with us, all the way. Amen.
Friday, 18 December 2009
Matthew 1:1-17
Who are you? Well, if your family background has any bearing on who you are, then you might answer this question by pointing to your family tree. It can be fun looking back at our family history – or it can be a source of shame or sorrow. In your ancestry there might be illustrious individuals of intrigue, or there could be infamous intimations of ill-repute! There might be privileged princes and princesses, or perhaps pitiable penniless paupers. You might not even know much about your family history – you may have been adopted, or perhaps the family history has never been researched, or has been lost in the mists of time.
But family histories can be a way of affirming our roots, giving us a sense of identity. My own family history contains a mixture of European ethnicities. Down one branch, there is a rumour of Irish nobility, as some on the family tree are noted as having lived in a castle. On another branch were Bohemians from Czechoslovakia. The tree also has several off-shoots where divorces and re-marriages have occurred, resulting in step-parents, step-siblings and half-siblings. As with many people’s histories, mine’s a bit complicated, but it’s unique to me and my family, and it has formed our identity.
Well, it’s obvious from this morning’s Gospel reading that Jesus’ family tree has not been lost – and there are a good few complications in his family history as well! So why did Matthew bother with recording all those names? Why is the genealogy of Jesus important, and what does it say about his identity?
In the context of Matthew’s writing, ‘the genealogy of Jesus’ was impressive and persuasive in identifying who Jesus is. There is much we could look at in this long list of names, but you’ll be happy to know that here we’re only going to focus on the first line!
Three claims are made in that first verse of Matthew, chapter 1: that Jesus is ‘the Christ’; that Jesus is ‘the son of David’, and that Jesus is ‘the son of Abraham’.
First, Jesus is the Christ: Matthew emphasises the title of Christ in describing Jesus. ‘Christ’ is the Greek rendering of the Hebrew title ‘Messiah’, which means ‘anointed’, in the sense of an anointed king. Jesus is presented first and foremost as the long-awaited Messiah, who was expected to be a descendant of King David – so one of the purposes of Matthew’s genealogy is to demonstrate that line of descent, in order to strengthen the claim that Jesus is the Messiah.
In addition to giving Jesus the title of ‘Christ’, Matthew continues in the same verse to proclaim Jesus as both the ‘son of David’ and ‘the son of Abraham’. The use of the relational term ‘son’ is the key here: this is about inheritance. Matthew is staking the claim for Jesus as the heir to the promises given by God to David and to Abraham. David is mentioned here before Abraham, even though Abraham lived long before David lived. I think this has to do with the ordering of God’s plan, but we'll get back to this idea in a minute.
But first, why is David so important in the genealogy of Jesus? And how is Jesus considered a descendent of David through Joseph’s line, since Joseph wasn’t Jesus’ biological father? But of course, Joseph was the father of Jesus by adoption, and so legally it was accepted that Jesus was Joseph’s son, and the heir to his lineage. This shows Jesus’ true royal bloodline.
David was the great king to whom God made the promise of a kingdom which would continue forever, as we read in 2 Samuel 7:
When your days are over and you rest with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring to succeed you… and I will establish his kingdom. He is the one who will build a house for my Name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever.
David’s kingdom would last forever through one of his descendants – one born into the royal family line. Hundreds of years after David’s, and hundreds of years before Jesus, the familiar words of the prophet Isaiah were recorded:
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end! He will reign on David's throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever.
Everything God promised to David, and to Abraham before him, was secured by the coming of Jesus Christ. His coming confirms and fulfils all the covenants. Jesus is the ‘Yes’ to God’s promises! In Paul’s 2nd letter to the Corinthians, chapter 1, he says, ‘… no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ’!
So let’s think about Abraham now. How is Jesus the ‘Son of Abraham’? God’s promise to Abraham included all nations, and as Paul states in his letter to the Galatians, Christ ‘redeemed us in order that the blessing given to Abraham might come to the Gentiles… The promises were spoken to Abraham and to his seed…who is Christ.’
Abraham is ‘the founding father’ of Israel, and the patriarch of Jews, Christians and Muslims; and as we read in Genesis chapter 12, God made an amazing covenant with Abraham, that he would be made into a great nation, and that all nations would be blessed through him.
So the Messiah, the eternal King of kings, comes from David’s bloodline, as promised to David – and he came to bless the whole world, as was promised to Abraham – ‘to the Jews first, then to the Gentiles’, as it says in 2 Corinthians.
So we can see, through the genealogy of Jesus Christ as presented by Matthew, that Jesus has the right credentials. Does this help us with our own sense of identity as Christians? We know that we are heirs of God in Jesus Christ, from Galatians 3 and 4: ‘You are all children of God through faith in Christ Jesus… If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise’. ‘Because you are his children, he sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, ‘Abba, Father.’ So you are no longer slaves, but God’s children; and since you are his children, he has made you also heirs.’
We are children of God, we are brothers and sisters to each other in Christ, and we share in Christ’s inheritance. In the letter to the Hebrews, it says: ‘Both the one who makes people holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters.’
After hearing God’s promise, David’s response was one of humility, worship and praise. Abraham’s response was one of faithful obedience to the covenant God made with him. Our response should be the same: humility, worship, praise, and faithful obedience to Jesus, the Christ.
Let us pray: Lord Jesus, You came to claim your inheritance of all creation as your kingdom. Who are we that you would share your inheritance with us? In the light of your love for us, help us to know deep down who we are. Though we know we are not perfect, you have made us holy – you have made us a people for your self. We thank you, and we praise you. Help us to worship you with our whole lives. Help us to be obedient in following you closely and in loving others as you love them. Even so, come Lord Jesus! Amen.
But family histories can be a way of affirming our roots, giving us a sense of identity. My own family history contains a mixture of European ethnicities. Down one branch, there is a rumour of Irish nobility, as some on the family tree are noted as having lived in a castle. On another branch were Bohemians from Czechoslovakia. The tree also has several off-shoots where divorces and re-marriages have occurred, resulting in step-parents, step-siblings and half-siblings. As with many people’s histories, mine’s a bit complicated, but it’s unique to me and my family, and it has formed our identity.
Well, it’s obvious from this morning’s Gospel reading that Jesus’ family tree has not been lost – and there are a good few complications in his family history as well! So why did Matthew bother with recording all those names? Why is the genealogy of Jesus important, and what does it say about his identity?
In the context of Matthew’s writing, ‘the genealogy of Jesus’ was impressive and persuasive in identifying who Jesus is. There is much we could look at in this long list of names, but you’ll be happy to know that here we’re only going to focus on the first line!
Three claims are made in that first verse of Matthew, chapter 1: that Jesus is ‘the Christ’; that Jesus is ‘the son of David’, and that Jesus is ‘the son of Abraham’.
First, Jesus is the Christ: Matthew emphasises the title of Christ in describing Jesus. ‘Christ’ is the Greek rendering of the Hebrew title ‘Messiah’, which means ‘anointed’, in the sense of an anointed king. Jesus is presented first and foremost as the long-awaited Messiah, who was expected to be a descendant of King David – so one of the purposes of Matthew’s genealogy is to demonstrate that line of descent, in order to strengthen the claim that Jesus is the Messiah.
In addition to giving Jesus the title of ‘Christ’, Matthew continues in the same verse to proclaim Jesus as both the ‘son of David’ and ‘the son of Abraham’. The use of the relational term ‘son’ is the key here: this is about inheritance. Matthew is staking the claim for Jesus as the heir to the promises given by God to David and to Abraham. David is mentioned here before Abraham, even though Abraham lived long before David lived. I think this has to do with the ordering of God’s plan, but we'll get back to this idea in a minute.
But first, why is David so important in the genealogy of Jesus? And how is Jesus considered a descendent of David through Joseph’s line, since Joseph wasn’t Jesus’ biological father? But of course, Joseph was the father of Jesus by adoption, and so legally it was accepted that Jesus was Joseph’s son, and the heir to his lineage. This shows Jesus’ true royal bloodline.
David was the great king to whom God made the promise of a kingdom which would continue forever, as we read in 2 Samuel 7:
When your days are over and you rest with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring to succeed you… and I will establish his kingdom. He is the one who will build a house for my Name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever.
David’s kingdom would last forever through one of his descendants – one born into the royal family line. Hundreds of years after David’s, and hundreds of years before Jesus, the familiar words of the prophet Isaiah were recorded:
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end! He will reign on David's throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever.
Everything God promised to David, and to Abraham before him, was secured by the coming of Jesus Christ. His coming confirms and fulfils all the covenants. Jesus is the ‘Yes’ to God’s promises! In Paul’s 2nd letter to the Corinthians, chapter 1, he says, ‘… no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ’!
So let’s think about Abraham now. How is Jesus the ‘Son of Abraham’? God’s promise to Abraham included all nations, and as Paul states in his letter to the Galatians, Christ ‘redeemed us in order that the blessing given to Abraham might come to the Gentiles… The promises were spoken to Abraham and to his seed…who is Christ.’
Abraham is ‘the founding father’ of Israel, and the patriarch of Jews, Christians and Muslims; and as we read in Genesis chapter 12, God made an amazing covenant with Abraham, that he would be made into a great nation, and that all nations would be blessed through him.
So the Messiah, the eternal King of kings, comes from David’s bloodline, as promised to David – and he came to bless the whole world, as was promised to Abraham – ‘to the Jews first, then to the Gentiles’, as it says in 2 Corinthians.
So we can see, through the genealogy of Jesus Christ as presented by Matthew, that Jesus has the right credentials. Does this help us with our own sense of identity as Christians? We know that we are heirs of God in Jesus Christ, from Galatians 3 and 4: ‘You are all children of God through faith in Christ Jesus… If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise’. ‘Because you are his children, he sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, ‘Abba, Father.’ So you are no longer slaves, but God’s children; and since you are his children, he has made you also heirs.’
We are children of God, we are brothers and sisters to each other in Christ, and we share in Christ’s inheritance. In the letter to the Hebrews, it says: ‘Both the one who makes people holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters.’
After hearing God’s promise, David’s response was one of humility, worship and praise. Abraham’s response was one of faithful obedience to the covenant God made with him. Our response should be the same: humility, worship, praise, and faithful obedience to Jesus, the Christ.
Let us pray: Lord Jesus, You came to claim your inheritance of all creation as your kingdom. Who are we that you would share your inheritance with us? In the light of your love for us, help us to know deep down who we are. Though we know we are not perfect, you have made us holy – you have made us a people for your self. We thank you, and we praise you. Help us to worship you with our whole lives. Help us to be obedient in following you closely and in loving others as you love them. Even so, come Lord Jesus! Amen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)