Sexuality & the Bible - four part sermon series
(The following sermons are offered by Rev Kieren Bourne)
Sermon: Sunday 25 May 2008
1 Corinthians 10:16-17; John 6:51-58
(Acknowledgements/references: Tom Wright, John for Everyone; Peter Vardy & Mary Mills, The Puzzle of the Gospels)
Let us pray: O God, light of the minds that know you, life of the souls that love you, and strength of the thoughts that seek you – bless the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts. In Christ’s name, we pray. Amen.
Even for us today, with our enlightened knowledge and our capacity to more honestly interpret ancient scripture, the words of Jesus recorded in today’s reading from John’s gospel are somewhat distasteful. We are told that Jesus told the Jews who were questioning him, that “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Humanity and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” The very thought of eating human flesh and drinking human blood is enough to make one gag.
If we find such talk distasteful today, imagine how the Jews felt! Most of us are well aware, I think, of the Jewish regulation about food and drink that makes blood absolutely forbidden. Their complex system of kosher butchering stipulates that no blood should remain in the animal so that there should be no risk of either eating or drinking it.
In the book, The Puzzle of the Gospels, the authors help to put it into some kind of perspective for us when they say that, “Jesus’ blood saves people from the wrath of God just as the Passover lamb did in the Exodus account when the Israelites put the blood of lambs on the doors of their houses. The lamb’s blood saved the Israelites, so Jesus’ blood can be portrayed as saving his followers.”
We have heard Jesus say that in order for him to be truly united with his believing followers, it is necessary for them to eat his flesh and drink his blood. “Those who do this will be people of the true Exodus.” Tom Wright
Jesus refers to the story of the Jew’s ancestors, who ate the bread they were given, but they still died. But Jesus is stating that “This bread, this bread-of-life which is Jesus himself, is given, and given to be broken in death, so that those who eat of it may not die, but have eternal life in the present and the future and be raised up on the last day.” Tom Wright
Tom Wright suggests that “John, like some other early Christian writers, was prepared to see the bread and wine of the eucharist as foretastes of (the) great moment” when the world would be flooded by God – flooded with God’s presence.
So what is coming to this table all about? Well for me, when I am about to receive communion, I sign myself with the sign of the cross. I do not do this to be outwardly pretentious. Rather, I do it as a reminder to myself of what I am doing and why I am doing it.
I believe in Jesus and I believe that he died for me. As his follower, he asks that I eat of this bread and drink of this wine and remember that they represent his sacrifice and why he made it. I also believe that all people are free to partake of communion whether they have previous church experience or not, whether they have much faith or little, or whether they are seeking a new way in Christ.
The act of coming forward and receiving communion symbolises a persons desire to be part of Christ’ community, to receive God’s saving grace, to rejoice in Jesus’ resurrection and to commit their lives to Christian service.
For me, the act of partaking of the bread and wine is a two-fold process.
First, it is a very personal time between the receiver and Jesus – it can be a time of healing, a time to gather strength, a time to gain a sense of purpose, a time to find a sense of peace. In short, when we receive communion it has the power to be whatever we need it to be at that particular time.
Secondly, it is about getting involved – not just getting involved with Jesus, but also getting involved with his world, his people.
I don’t think that when we come to Christ’s table and partake of the bread and wine that we are magically saved for ever. Partaking of this simple meal, at this table – whether we come with much faith or little faith – is no quick fix. Everything that has value needs to be worked for.
Every single time we receive the symbols of Christ’s sacrificial and broken body and receive the Spirit of his risen body, we open ourselves to a new way of living, a new way of being. We expose ourselves to Christ’s passion for justice and his idea that there should be a place at the table for all who want it. We are challenged to both accept ourselves and change ourselves. By taking the bread and wine we place ourselves in a position of vulnerable responsibility as we accept and remember Jesus in our lives.
Our actions at this table, while largely symbolic, point us to what Jesus wants to give us and what he wants to receive from us.
I think we understand that he wants to free us: to free us from our guilt, our fear, our grief, our burdens.
I think we understand that he wants to give us renewed strength, new hope, new hearts and minds.
I think we understand that he wants us to have and enjoy life in abundance – to be free of bitterness and cynicism – to embrace all the positive opportunities that come to us through faith in him.
But then what? Because, yes, there is more. I think that the symbolic actions we engage in at this table also give us a profound responsibility to take that symbolism out into the world and change it into something tangible, something that reflects what we believe.
If we believe all those things just mentioned about what Jesus can give us, and wants to give us, we also have to grasp the fact that our response to his sacrificial love means giving in return. Love is not a one-way street.
Love – and by that I mean love in its truest form as shown to us by Jesus – isn’t easy. It’s not the gooey, glamorised triteness of romantic novels and fluffy movies. Rather it’s about going the extra mile; making an extra effort; seeking extra wisdom; finding extra compassion; making a stand; doing something for someone because they are a fellow human being; doing something to help save this fragile planet; in short, it’s about showing our thanks in practical ways by returning to God just a little of what we have received.
If we eat at this table we have, as we heard in the first reading, a sharing in the body and blood of Christ. Through his body we, though many, are one body. Through partaking of this meal we are opening ourselves to opportunities of powerful personal healing and wholeness and abundant life. In sharing this meal we open ourselves to the pain and fragility of one another. However we view the sacramental elements of bread and wine, there is no doubt that in the eating and drinking of them, we have aligned ourselves with one who gave everything for us.
What, then, is our response to such a gift? How should we value it?
Only we can decide what we consider our individual response should be.
Perhaps today, as we come forward to receive the welcome at Christ’s table and eat of the banquet set before us, we might not only loose ourselves in the love shed here, but also consider by what means we can share that love.
In the name of Christ. Amen.
Sermon: Sunday 9 September 2007
Luke 14:25-33
It has been a challenge for me over the last three weeks to try and make sense of some very hard readings from Luke’s gospel and I am hugely indebted to the help of various theologians, preachers and commentaries. If nothing else it proves a point from these readings – that the way of Christ is not easy, but that thankfully, it doesn’t need to be travelled alone.< xml="true" ns="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" prefix="o" namespace="">
I think it would be a good idea to start with the words of Jesus that seem impossible to bear or understand: “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”
How on earth are we to interpret these seemingly harsh words?
Well, we know that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem and he knew that suffering, rejection and death awaited him at the end of that journey. But at the time, it seems that some Galileans regarded the journey as a victory march of the Messiah. Jesus, in no uncertain terms, hastens to disillusion them. Knowing that his disciples would have to face a similar challenge, Jesus – as we’ve heard tonight – spoke about the cost of discipleship. Jesus did not literally mean that they should hate their parents, children or siblings. Fr Flor McCarthy suggests that the word ‘hate’ is a Semitic expression, and that to ‘love less’ would be nearer to what Jesus had in mind.
So Jesus was saying that they needed to be ready, to be prepared if necessary, to sacrifice those things in life that were dearest to them.
Theologian Tom Wright puts it like this: “Imagine a politician standing on a soap-box addressing a crowd. ‘If you’re going to vote for me,’ he says, ‘you’re voting to lose your homes and families; you’re asking for higher taxes and lower wages; you’re deciding in favour of losing all you love best!’ The crowd wouldn’t even bother heckling him, or throwing rotten tomatoes at him. They would just be puzzled. Why on earth would anyone try to advertise himself in that way? But isn’t that what Jesus is doing in this astonishing passage? ‘Want to be my disciple, do you? Well, in that case you have to learn to hate your family, give up your possessions, and get ready for a nasty death!’ Hardly the way, as we say, to win friends and influence people.
But wait a minute. Supposing, instead of a politician, we think of the leader of a great expedition, forging a way through a high and dangerous mountain pass to bring urgent medical aid to villagers cut off from the rest of the world. ‘If you want to come any further,’ the leader says, ‘you’ll have to leave your packs behind. From here on the path is too steep to carry all that stuff. You probably won’t find it again. And you’d better send your last postcards home; this is a dangerous route and it’s very likely that several of us won’t make it back.’
We can understand that. We may not like the sound of it, but we can see why it would make sense.
And we can see, therefore, that Jesus is more like the second person than the first.
Since Christianity has often been associated with what are called ‘family values’, it comes as a shock to be told to ‘hate’ your parents, wife and children, and siblings; but when the instruction goes one step further, that one must hate one’s own self, and be prepared for a shameful death (’take up your cross’ wasn’t simply a figure of speech in Jesus’ world!), then we begin to see what’s going on. Jesus is not denying the importance of close family, and the propriety of living in supportive harmony with them. But when there is an urgent task to be done, as there now is, then everything else, including one’s own life, must be put at risk for the sake of the kingdom.”
Most of us will never face this kind of harsh choice in our lives. We will not be asked to give our freedom or even our lives for the sake of the gospel. But counting the cost – the way of discipleship – is what today’s reading is all about. In all honesty, and we have all been witness to this at some point in our church lives, one of the supreme impediments of the Church is that there are many people who follow Christ at a safe distance – in other words, there are very few disciples – people who actually seek to do what he said.
But perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised by that, because let’s face it – it is not at all easy to be a disciple of Christ. In the words of Flor McCarthy, “Some followers melt away as soon as a demand is made on them, like snow before the sun. Others are destroyed by opposition and criticism, like a fickle flame that is blown out by the first gust of wind.”
A short story illustrates this:
When a king visited the monasteries of the great Zen master, Lin Chi, he was astonished to learn that there were more than ten thousand monks living there. Wishing to know the exact number of monks the king asked, ‘How many disciples do you have?’ Lin Chi replied, ‘Four or five.’
Ok let’s move on a bit. If this is to be the church that Christ calls it to be, then it is perfectly alright for the church to make requests of each of us. No one is immune from being asked to play a part. Indeed, the church must seek to use all of the gifts and talents given by God to a particular people in a particular place.
And this is perhaps where we start talking about counting the cost. If it’s legitimate for the church to make requests of you, it is just as legitimate, after you have carefully and prayerfully considered the request, to say ‘no’. It’s a hand in hand thing; it cuts both ways. I think that Jesus really wants us to understand that in following him there is also a place for common sense. It should be obvious to all of us that we shouldn’t take on more than we are capable of doing. Of course, we won’t know in advance what we are capable of – we may underestimate or overestimate ourselves – but we all need a challenge to bring out the best in us.
So I think that there are two sides to this particular coin. On the one side, we have to count the cost to ourselves. There are too many burned-out Christians who have drifted away from every congregation because they didn’t know how to say ‘no’, or listen when someone else said it. We need to recognise in ourselves, and in others, when we are stretched too far.
On the other side of the coin it is our responsibility to act on the call we are given by Jesus. “Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” What we have to decide is which cross or crosses we will carry and then carry those crosses to the best of our ability. We need to recognise that faithful living involves growing and stretching, and that growing and stretching can sometimes be painful.
Poor reasons for refusing a task are fear; inexperience, and apathy – they are not worthy reasons for those of us who call ourselves Christians.
“Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”
The Jewish historian Josephus, who wrote a history of the Jewish people during the time that Rome ruled Israel, talks about the cross and what it was like in those days to walk the main road that led into Jerusalem. He records how, along that road, there could be as many as two or three thousand crosses lining the way – each cross either with a fresh victim nailed to it, or the decomposing body of someone baking in the sun and creating an awful stench which hung over the road.
Unless we have seen with our own eyes and smelt with our own nose the horrors of places like Vietnam, Rwanda, Auschwitz, Afghanistan or Iraq, we can’t really grasp what it must have been like to walk into a city alongside a road that was strewn with crosses of dying or decaying bodies. And we most certainly cannot grasp the absolute insanity that the words of Jesus must have conjured up for his disciples. It was the worst possible image he could have used if he wanted to get people to follow him.
Without question Jesus uses extremely graphic images in today’s reading, “to remind us that God wants more from us than our eagerness to receive bread without cost and wine without price.” (Rev Richard Fairchild)
He wanted his disciples, both then and now, to realise that there is more to loving God than simply feeling thankful; that there is more to loving God than simply waiting for God to pour blessings upon us.
I guess we come again to the point that all these thoughts and ponderings are asking us to contemplate what we’re doing, and what we’re not doing, in the light of Christ’s words as recorded in Luke’s gospel. And again, it is very clear that Jesus is directing us to lives of action that involve reaching out, inviting and welcoming. And yet again, it is clear that these readings from Luke have been both timely and inspirational, coming just when we are preparing to launch our Would Jesus Discriminate? Campaign.
Last week Mike encouraged us to pray that our outreach through Would Jesus Discriminate might be a way of glorifying God and be a means of powerful witness to the community, both giving and receiving God’s blessings. Perhaps, in the light of today’s reading, we could add one or two more prayers as we approach the launch of the campaign on Saturday 6 October, especially if we have thoughts of inadequacy or fear; or if we have not yet appreciated what this could mean both for our church and the God and community we seek to serve.
As we continue to pray for the campaign, let us also pray that we might discern the cross that Jesus wishes us to carry at this time; let us pray that the leaders of our church may preach by both word and example; let us pray that we might promote justice and unity; let us pray that our actions over the coming weeks will answer Christ’s call in a powerful and profound way, and that we might re-apply the hard sayings from Luke’s gospel to the ongoing life of this church.
By taking on this campaign – in taking up this particular cross – we are intending to increase awareness of Living Springs within our local communities and of MCC worldwide. We want to challenge society with what, for many of them, will be a new concept – that gay people are Christians and that gay people are not condemned by Jesus. We want to increase awareness of the issues and the real information about the Bible and homosexuality. By asking this simple, yet profound question, we will be attempting to appeal to people’s hearts first, not their heads.
And for us as a congregation we intend that this campaign will engage us in a way that nothing has done for a very long time. Already I am aware of a solidarity and a focus among us that is invigorating and which is helping us to construct a truly community-based campaign. I have been blown away by some of your amazing ideas and humbled by some of your willingness to take on acts of ministry. I have been enriched by your acts of generosity – for above all, I think generosity of word, spirit or time is something which is infectious – it’s a bit like laughter: contagious and heart-warming.
And I have been strengthened by knowing that you are praying – because your prayers will set our plans on a firm foundation and because, with prayer, we just don’t know what may be possible.
And so I want to encourage you to keep on coming up with ideas. I want to continue to be overwhelmed by your generosity. I want you to be able to ‘feel’ and ‘own’ the importance of what we are taking on – to feel and own the impact that we hope to have both for our church and also for the wider community. Finally, I want to ask you to keep on praying so that our campaign not only stands on a firm foundation, but that it takes root and grows into something organic and challenging; something thought-provoking and life-changing; something that will truly define us as a church that is willing to take up its cross and follow in the footsteps of Jesus.
At the end of today’s reading we heard Jesus say, “So therefore, none of you can become my disciples if you do not give up all that you have.”
For us, it does not mean giving up our homes or our families and friends.
It means placing Jesus and his call in an appropriate place in our lives – and preferably, not last or as an after-thought. It means sharing what we have been given by God – our spiritual experiences, our time, our various skills – so that we can share, even in some small way, the abundance that we have been given. It means reaching out to the vast amount of people outside these walls – especially our gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered brothers and sisters – who believe that God hates them. That is the lie that so many have received from the Church, and it is the reason that so many have been alienated from the love and life-changing message of Jesus.
As I said last week, this is our time. This is when we make a concerted effort to start putting things right. This is when we respond to Christ’s call to take up our cross and to follow him. It might mean serving afternoon tea or baking a cake; it might mean wearing a t-shirt and handing out leaflets; it may mean taking part in worship; it may mean supporting the campaign financially; it may mean sharing our faith, or it may simply mean turning up to the events and services planned and swelling the numbers.
Most of us are here tonight because we know that Jesus does not discriminate; we know about what God has done and what God can do for us. Jesus calls us to share what we have, to share what we know about him, so that others may also experience lives of abundance.
My brothers and sisters, now is our time. Let us be bold in our faith, bold in our witness, bold in shouldering our cross, bold in following the way of Jesus.
And as we do this thing – this thing for Christ and Christ’s people – let us rely on the power of Christ’s Spirit and remember to keep listening to the whisperings of that same Spirit, so that we may receive the strength to tear down walls of oppression and build up lives of hope.
Let us not be afraid – for in and through Christ we will receive everything that we need, and we will be empowered to share everything that we have.
Jesus died for us – let us live for him!
Amen.
Sermon: Sunday 2 September 2007 < xml="true" ns="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" prefix="o" namespace="">
(Acknowledgements/references: Rev Richard Fairchild; Luke for Everyone by Tom Wright)
Luke 14:1,7-14
The gospel readings from Luke for last Sunday, for today and again for next Sunday are all very challenging and I have relied on the commentaries of others to help me find my way through some quite difficult passages. It is amazing, is it not, how God uses situations and seemingly incomprehensible Biblical passages to emphasise and make a point about what might be happening in one’s own life or the life of one’s church. I am finding this to be the case with these readings from Luke, especially in connection to our upcoming Would Jesus Discriminate campaign.
Before we start though, I want to ask you all to do something unexpected – something that you may also find uncomfortable. I want to you change seats – to move to a chair or to a side of the chapel that you rarely, if ever, sit. . . .
. . . .Now that you are all seated again let’s determine how you feel. I wonder how happy you are with this arrangement. I wonder how pleased you are to have been moved from your usual, comfortable seat. Probably not very – I know I wouldn’t have been. But let us consider for a moment whose house this is that we are in, and whose seat we are sitting on. The truth is that none of us has a claim on any particular chair as the theme of today’s gospel makes very clear.
We are told that Jesus, while eating in the home of a prominent Pharisee, was watching the behaviour of the guests. He observed that many of them were seeking the best places for themselves – the places of honour where they would be noticed by other guests and where their proximity to the host would ensure they would be served first and receive the choice of the best portions.
So Jesus tells a parable to deal with what he has seen – and it has nothing to do with offering advice on the correct etiquette at feasts. Rather he is dealing with the way in which some people were jostling for position in the eyes of God. He felt they were keen to push themselves forward, to show how well they were keeping the law and maintaining their purity. He was warning against pushing oneself forward in the sight of God. In Jesus’ day it was very easy for the well-off and the legally or religiously trained to imagine that they were more superior in God’s sight than the poor – people who did not have the resources and therefore the opportunities to study, never mind, practice the law. One of my favourite sources, Tom Wright, says: “Within Luke’s lifetime thousands of non-Jews had become Christians – had entered, that is, into the dinner party prepared by the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Many Jewish Christians, as we know from Acts, had found this difficult, if not impossible, to understand or approve. They were so eager to maintain their own places at the top table that they could not grasp God’s great design to stand the world on its head. Pride, notoriously, is the great cloud which blots out the sun of God’s generosity: if I reckon that I deserve to be favoured by God, not only do I declare that I don’t need God’s grace, mercy and love, but I imply that those who don’t deserve it shouldn’t have it.”
Jesus ends the first parable by saying, “For everyone who makes themselves great will be humbled, and everyone who humbles themselves will be made great.”
And so part of the theme of today’s reading is about humility – the humility to recognise that it is up to our host – our God – to seat us and determine what honour or not, we should receive; and also to recognise that every seat at the table of God is a great seat.
Jesus goes on to suggest to his host that instead of inviting those he knows and loves to his feasts, perhaps he should consider inviting “the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind”. This seems to be a literal and radical suggestion about who to invite to dinner parties. Social conditions have changed, of course, and we would find this harder to put in to practice than when people lived in small towns or villages in which everyone knew everyone else’s business, where meals were eaten with the doors open and people wandered in and out at will. However, none of us can use the difference in our current style of living as an excuse for ignoring Jesus’ demand.
This particular gospel reading impels us to think about humility certainly, but it also directs us to think about reaching out. It is about reaching out beyond our natural comfort zone to embrace others, to embrace life, to embrace Jesus and his message of liberation and acceptance for all people. If we are really honest with ourselves, do we not usually just reach out to those who come within our reach – those we call friends, family or colleagues?
For the most part, do we not consider that everyone else is on the ‘outside’ – the outside of our thoughts and concern and the outside of our care and attention?
Back in 1966 Billy Graham held a conference titled, ‘One Race, One Gospel, One Task’. Haile Selassie the First, the Protector of the ancient Ethiopian Orthodox Church, opened the conference with these words:
“However wise or however mighty a person may be, he is like a ship without a rudder if he is without God. . . . Therefore, O Christians, let us arise and, with the spiritual zeal and earnestness which characterised the Apostles and early Christians, let us labour to lead our brothers and sisters to our Saviour Jesus Christ who only can give life in its fullest sense.”
So, who are we thinking about when we come to this house of God? Who are we inviting to come with us? Who are we reaching out to and letting know about the great feasting table set by God? Are we more concerned with what we may or may not receive from God this evening, than we are with those on the ‘outside’? Is our favourite chair so important to us that we resent the pastor when he asked us to move?
I pray, as I pray every Sunday, that each of you receive from God today what you need. But I also have to ask, what about those who are not here today?
Are we, as a church, praying that those outside this place may come in, and sit wherever they wish and come forward to receive the same food, grace, love and hope that we receive?
Are we eager to risk discomfort – as some of you may have experienced when I asked you to move chairs – in order to reach out and have this place of healing so filled each week, that each week we may have to sit in a different place anyway?
Are we living as an inviting people?
Are we speaking inviting words?
Are we demonstrating inviting attitudes?
All of these thoughts and questions seem to be asking us to contemplate what we’re doing, and what we’re not doing, in the light of Christ’s words as recorded in Luke’s gospel. They seem to be directing us to lives of action – and to actions that reach out, embrace, invite and welcome. And these thought-provoking and challenging words could not have come at a more appropriate time as we prepare to venture out into the community with the Would Jesus Discriminate campaign.
Jesus, I believe, asks us to think about the value we place on what God has done for us; and then he challenges us to consider whether we value God enough to want others to have similar life-changing experiences. If we value God and our place in God’s church then we need to act as Jesus invited those in the reading tonight – to give up our seat for someone else; to invite those we would not normally invite; to reach out without thought of return.
There are empty places among us today – places that will only be filled if we allow God to issue an invitation through us to those who need to hear the good news. It is not a question of thinking less of ourselves, but rather it is about thinking of ourselves less. We know about this place; we know what God has done and what God can do; we know that we are welcome at Christ’s banquet and that Christ lay down his life for us. This is not information that is classified; when we are touched by God’s Spirit or given a word of hope, it is not stamped with ‘For your eyes only’. It is not a treasure to be kept to ourselves when so much of the world needs a word of hope; an act of compassion; an idea that life can be different and a sense that they too can be part of making that difference.
And so, my friends, if we want to invite those that Jesus wants us to invite, and if we want them to embrace the good news; if we want to shine the light of Christ’s love on those who believe they are unlovable, then we must act and we must speak. It is time for us to do this in a way that reaches as many people as possible and to do it in a way that starts conversations and helps people to look at things in a new way. We may not change the minds of those on the religious right, but this should not stop us from speaking to those who want to hear the liberating truth of Christ’s life and message. This is our time.
When Rev Troy Perry founded MCC he first asked the question, ‘Can a Christian also be gay?’ Well, we know that the answer to that is a resounding YES! And now we must ask another question – a simple question, namely, Would Jesus Discriminate?
“This is our unfinished calling in an unfinished world, to move as Jesus would move and to speak as Jesus would speak, tearing down walls and building up hope.” (Rev Cindi Love, Executive Director, MCC)
This is our time. As we moved from our accustomed seats today, so we need to move from our accustomed places of comfort.
And we will be doing just that when we hold a short, public rally on the steps of the URC on Argyle Street on Saturday 6 October at 7.15pm. Through word and song and leaflets and postcards – and by our presence – we will be asking that simple question and offering reasons why we believe that the answer to that simple question is obviously, no. And we will be attempting to keep the discussion going for a few weeks in the press and amongst those we speak to who see us wearing our t-shirts and those who have, by whatever means, heard us challenge the so-called traditional teaching that you cannot be gay and Christian and that you cannot be in a loving and affirming same-sex relationship.
Jesus doesn’t just want us to change our seats. As he suggested to those at the Pharisees house, he wants us to change our way of doing things – to go out and invite those who have not yet been invited and to share with them the good news.
Finally, I would like to pick up on Mike’s thoughts that those of you who receive the weekly e-bulletin will have seen. He said that “the launch of Would Jesus Discriminate is perhaps one of our most ambitious outreach projects –
we’re not only saying that it’s alright to be l,g,b,t and Christian, we’re also saying that it’s alright to love Jesus too. Prayer needs to be the foundation of all we do and, adapting a quote from a wedding I was at the other day, prayer is not about having what we want, it’s about wanting what we have. We have a great opportunity to share the love of God with all who will be there to listen on Saturday 6 October. It would be great if as many people as possible could join us in committing at least ten minutes to praying for this event.”
May I suggest then that we pray, and keep on praying over the next few weeks, that God will bless our campaign and that we will be a blessing to those we interact with. Let us pray that each of us will be able to invite others to come in and sit down and know that they are part of God’s family. Let us pray that we can offer people the life that Jesus came to give to all those who want it. Let us pray that we may glorify God and that God’s world may be enhanced by our efforts, prayers and worship over that weekend in October, and beyond.
I conclude with Mike’s words: “There are, of course, many more things that we can pray for, but if as many of us as possible can set aside time to pray – who knows what will happen.”
Amen.
Sermon: Sunday 26 August 2007 < xml="true" ns="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" prefix="o" namespace="">
Bournemouth MCC 11.00 & Living Springs MCC 18.00
(References: Tom Wright, Luke for Everyone; www.rc.net)
Luke 13:22-30
Boy, this seems like a tough reading!
“Strive to enter through the narrow door; for many will try to enter and will not be able.”
Or worse still, “I do not know where you come from; go away from me.”
We think we have understood Jesus to be about bringing our salvation, and yet here he seems to be indicating that not many of us are going to make it.
But if we consider his teaching on the way to Jerusalem thus far, it has all been pretty tough. For example, when a guy comes up to him and says, “Jesus, I’ll follow you wherever you go”, Jesus turns to him and says, “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Humanity has no place to lay his head.” (Lk 9:58 & Mt 8:20) And the man goes away. The same with the rich young man – he also turns away. (Mk 10:21) And when Jesus calls to various people to follow him, they often come up with excuses about their responsibilities elsewhere. And so Jesus says, “No one who puts his hand to the plough and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.” (Lk 9:59-62)
A bit later he’s recorded as talking to the Pharisees and he blasts them for the way they behave – for their two-faced attitude to serving God. He concludes by saying, “Woe to you experts in the law, because you have taken away the key to knowledge. You yourselves have not entered, and you have hindered those who were entering.” (Lk 11:52)
Frankly, by now if you were one of Jesus’ followers at the time, you’d be starting to think that no one was going to be good enough to get into Jesus’ kingdom. Certainly, if the religious leaders weren’t going to make it, what chance did anyone else have?!
And so we get to today’s reading when someone stops Jesus and asks him, “Lord, will only a few be saved?” Jesus’ response is, as ever, fairly mysterious. He says, “Strive to enter through the narrow door; for many I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able.” Then he goes into one of his story’s which is, no doubt, meant to illuminate what he means, but generally leaves us even more bewildered. It’s a story about a home owner who has closed his door, as people stand outside and knock. When they call out to be let in, he shouts back that he doesn’t know where they came from. The people respond by saying they do know him and remind him of their social connections. But the householder still does not let them in.
I suppose that the person who asked Jesus this question wanted to know about their own situation.
This story kind of conjures up all those jokes and images of St Peter sitting at the pearly gates! It also reminds us of all the times that we try to decide who is in and who is out – because, let’s face it, in everyday situations we are always making judgements and decisions about who to include and who to exclude – in our communities and in even in our churches.
So, is this door about exclusion and inclusion? Does it really come down to St Peter sitting at heaven’s door with a check list for each new applicant?
To be honest, I don’t think so.
I think what Jesus does, in answering this question, is to switch the emphasis from the general issue of the number of people who might be saved, to the personal question of where the questioner him or herself stood. Jesus wants to emphasise that many will try to enter, but will you? He wants his hearers to understand that they shouldn’t take entry into God’s kingdom for granted, by telling them that the way and the door are narrow. “Once the owner of the house gets up and closes the door, you will stand outside knocking and pleading”. Jesus is saying that time is limited – the door is narrow in the sense that time is running out.
It’s like being invited to a party or a wonderful meal. The host has said come at 7.30 for 8.00. I’ve always thought of that as a bit of a weird invitation – does it mean 7.30 or 8.00? If the host wants you at 8.00, why not just say so? Anyway, in this context the host means come at 7.30, because at 8.00 sharp, the feast will start and all the doors will be locked. So if you’re not there by 8.00, you’re not going to get in.
But it’s not just about timing, because Jesus goes on to say, “But he will answer, ‘I don’t know you or where you come from.’” The point being, that what really matters is whether Jesus knows you or not. If we are friends of Jesus we can expect to be included at the feast. And that is why he encourages us to make every effort to enter through the narrow door – to become a member of God’s family before it’s too late. He’s saying quite clearly, that it’ll be no good to complain later that you always meant to do it one day. It’s not enough to tag along for the ride, just in case, but to never commit.
Jesus was, as he often did, directing some barbed comments to the Pharisees and scribes – intimating that they had rejected the message of salvation. Their rejection of the message prompted Jesus to say, “Indeed, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.” So being pious and religious isn’t what gets you through the narrow door!
Just before Jesus said that, he made this statement, “People will come from east and west and north and south, and will take their places at the feast in the kingdom of God.” In other words, Gentiles – people, other than the Jews, from all places around the world – would be there.
One more point to consider about the context of this reading is this: That in the time that Jesus was travelling and teaching, to ‘be saved’ was not “simply a matter of ultimate destination after death, but the more immediate and pressing question of the crisis that hung over the nation.” (Tom Wright)
Through Jesus, God was giving Israel one last chance. The strange ways in which God works meant that God was bringing promise to the very people the Jews wished to fight. Theologian Tom Wright says, “We should be cautious about lifting this passage out and applying it directly to the larger question of eternal salvation. Jesus’ urgent warnings to his own contemporaries were aimed at the particular emergency they then faced.”
So where are we exactly? We’ve heard a lot of words and theories, but what does this passage mean for us today? How do we interpret it so that we can react in a positive and meaningful way?
Well, firstly I think we can take heart, because although the door may be narrow, it is still wide open. And we know what Jesus meant when he used the metaphor of a door because it was made clear in John’s gospel, when he said, “I am the door; if any one enters by me, they will be saved.” (John 10:9)
However, I think we also need to look to our laurels. Jesus wants to know us – to really know us; to know who we are; what we are; and what we are doing to promote his kingdom here on earth. In other words, getting dressed up and coming to church once a week is not enough. If we have been blessed with salvation – and we have – we need to demonstrate that in our lives. What good is being saved if we journey through life with little thought, regard or action concerning our neighbours?
Do we need to consider whether we are in danger of becoming Pharisees – of thinking that our adherence to scripture and religiosity is all that is required? It is after all, easy to slip into ways that are comfortable and believe that this is the way it should be – or worse, to believe that it is the way Jesus wants us to be.
If we consider the gospels carefully we can clearly see that Jesus wanted his disciples to be active and pro-active. He wanted them, particularly once they had received the Holy Spirit, to carry on with delivering and demonstrating the good news of God and God’s kingdom. The gospel is indeed good news, but it is also challenging and demanding. To accept Christ into our lives and our hearts means radically changing our lifestyles and our outlook on life. It means stepping out of our previously held comfort zones and doing something different – taking the harder rather than the soft option. It means taking responsibility for Christ’s message of love and liberation.
The question that started all this off was, “Lord, will only a few be saved?”
The Reverend Jannel Glennie, an Episcopalian minister in the USA, says that, “salvation is healing in the ultimate sense. It is final cosmic and individual healing. Salvation is for those who recognise that they need healing and seek it [and] for those who have the courage, or [who] are desperate enough, to step into the fire of transformation.”
What she is saying is that it doesn’t matter what we have accomplished, what degrees we have, how much we earn, or how much scripture we’ve memorised – the door to transforming healing is open and welcoming to all.
Nearly every week we pray for God’s kingdom to come on earth. Well, the kingdom of God is about living a committed life of faith. It is our mission to live as Jesus has taught us – to “step into the fire of faith, willing to be transformed into more loving, more compassionate, more generous, more accepting, more forgiving, more joyful people.” (Rev Jannel Glennie)
And so I think we will have enough on our hands with all of this, without also worrying about who is in and who is out. Our mission is to summon enough courage to journey into the transformational fire of a committed Christian faith, with the sure knowledge in our hearts that the door, although narrow, is always open.
Amen.
Sermon: Sunday 10 June 2007 < xml="true" ns="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" prefix="o" namespace="">
(References: Tom Wright, Luke for Everyone; Flor McCarthy, New Sunday & Holy Day Liturgies)
Let us pray: Lord, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be now and always acceptable to you, our friend and our Saviour. Amen.
One day, one of Michelangelo’s friends paid him a visit. He found the great sculptor chipping away at a huge slab of marble. The floor was covered with bits of marble and dust – the place was an absolute mess. “What on earth are you doing?” the friend asked. Michelangelo replied, “I’m releasing the angel imprisoned in this marble.”
Just a little story which highlights nicely the power and passion of the gospel reading we have heard today. Michelangelo’s friend saw only a slab of marble but Michelangelo saw something beautiful within. Simon, the Pharisee, looked at the woman and saw a sinner who would always be a sinner, while Jesus saw a woman transformed and beautiful.
This is one of those overwhelmingly powerful stories from Luke’s gospel told in order to paint a vivid picture of the good news of Jesus Christ. In it Luke reveals Jesus as ‘the friend of sinners’. He portrays Jesus as one who draws alongside society’s untouchables and who allows them to draw alongside him.
To start with, let’s try and look at some of the cultural aspects of the story so that we might understand it a little better. We are told that Simon, a Pharisee, invites Jesus to dine with him in his house. So we assume from this that although a Pharisee, he was unlikely to be a hard-line right-winger like so many of them.
He seemed to genuinely want to learn more about Jesus, and no doubt there was an element of wanting to test him. And so we have Jesus at Simon’s table when an uninvited woman enters the house. For us, this seems to be extraordinary and outrageous behaviour right from the start. But what we regard as a ‘private life’ today was apparently largely unknown at that time. Doors remained open allowing beggars, extra friends or curious passers-by to simply wander in – and this was especially so when it was known that a special guest was present.
So in comes this woman who, it seems, is intent on anointing Jesus. We eventually discover that this is an expression of grateful love because she has received God’s overflowing forgiveness. But when she finds herself before Christ she is overcome with emotion and wets his feet with her tears before she can even get the ointment jar open. In an attempt to make things better, she actually makes them worse because she does what no decent woman would do in public – she lets her hair down – and then she proceeds to wipe Jesus’ feet with it and to top it off she keeps on kissing his feet before she finally anoints them.
So while her presence in the house isn’t necessarily a shock to anyone, her actions and her closeness to Jesus are – the shock is in both her actions and those of Jesus for allowing her to touch him, and especially to touch him in the way she does.
This is a superb story. We have Jesus keeping his poise between the outrageous adoration of the woman and the obvious rudeness of the Pharisee – and he deals with it all in a way which is both fresh and refreshing. But for those who were there, his behaviour was just as outrageous as that of the woman and the Pharisee. Even now, as we read or hear this story today, the dynamics between the three of them are vibrant, passionate and full of power.
Luke, in describing this story, has shown what happens when God’s love impacts on human situations. Jesus has not come to cast sinners into the fiery pit; he has come to turn social convention and religious expectation on its head. The Pharisees, both then and today, never seem to quite get the point of what Jesus did and said. He set new standards of forgiveness and love; he raised the expectations of ordinary people; he presents human beings as God sees them, not as society labels them. When we look closely at the story we notice the way in which Jesus turns the tables on Simon the Pharisee. Simon, Jesus says, is guilty of poor hospitality which was almost as much of a social blunder as the woman letting down her hair. Theologian Tom Wright says, “The Pharisee has never come to terms with the depths of his own heart, and so doesn’t appreciate God’s generous love when it sits in person at his own table. For Luke, true faith is what happens when someone looks at Jesus and discovers God’s forgiveness; and the sign and proof of this faith, is love.”
This woman – we do not know her name or what she is supposed to have done – this woman has demonstrated this. She has looked at Jesus and recognised love – in its purest form – and her faith and actions have then freed her from her past.
I love this story. It is so full of hope and action, of passion and energy, of love and compassion. It demonstrates that we can all be certain of God’s response when we turn to God. It shows how revolutionary Jesus’ ministry was and how far removed from God’s grace the separatist Pharisees were. It reveals the healing power of God who loves us and wants us to be free. And, importantly, it also shows us how we are to behave and react to those around us who, like that woman, are deemed less than appropriate for ‘polite’ society.
It amazes me – even though at my stage of life it probably shouldn’t, I suppose – it amazes me that there are still Christians who don’t get Jesus. They don’t get what he was about. They don’t get how they should really be responding to his life and work. They bind themselves to irrelevant and outdated rules from ancient books in the Bible that weren’t even written for them in the first place. They speak of hell and damnation, they speak of retribution and alienation – and in their speaking they condemn God, they condemn those they are purporting to save and they condemn themselves. Jesus, I’m sure, rebukes them, just as he rebuked the Pharisees, while at the same time he turns to those – like the woman in the gospel reading – who see him, yearn for him and are changed.
The simple truth is that Jesus came to save, not to condemn. If Jesus came to heal and to restore, how come so many of us get mission so badly wrong?
It seems to me that the one clear answer to that question is our humanity – we get it wrong sometimes because we are human.
How much easier it is to label people and place them in boxes – poof, black, vagrant, tart, refugee, sponger – and so many, many more. How much easier it is to do that than to befriend such people.
I would like you to think about something for a moment. It’s something that I’ve thought about before so I’m not asking you to do anything that I’m not prepared to do, or haven’t done.
Picture in your mind, if you would, the type of person you find the hardest to