THERE ARE ALWAYS CONSEQUENCES

 

THERE ARE ALWAYS CONSEQUENCES

As Christmas disappears into our rear-view mirror, we are invited to begin the new year by listening to the letter to the Hebrews which is a meditation on what Jesus did. ‘He has purged sins away’ (1:3). I find myself asking how did he do it. From our earliest years we learn that Jesus ‘died for our sins.’ But what does that mean? How did that help us?

Well, one answer must surely be that he took responsibility for sin despite the fact that he was sinless. I remember as a small boy we were all herded into a classroom and the teacher announced no one was leaving the room until the one who had committed some crime owned up to being the culprit. He didn’t and we were kept in that room a long time. But I have since fantasised, ‘what if I had owned up, even though I was not guilty’?  I would have enabled the others to go free though I might have brought some punishment on myself.

They would have gone free but that might not have solved whatever the issue was. There are always consequences. Many innocent people bore the cost of the liberation of Zimbabwe. We attained freedom through their sacrifice. But that does not mean the root causes for the conflict were wiped away in a day. The consequences remain.

We have to work through the consequences. Even though we might say we were not responsible for ‘the system’ that existed in Southern Rhodesia, we have to engage in a new struggle to remove the ‘sin that clings’ to quote Hebrews again (12:1). What Jesus has done is clear the ground so that it is much easier for us than it was for our ancestors to build a just society which reflects the ‘hidden purpose of God’.

We can do this, first, by accepting our responsibility and becoming engaged in this building. Second, by enduring the consequences of failure when we have done all that we can – even if it means the cross. Edmund Campion tried to engage with Eizabeth I of England in 1581, in the days of persecution with these words:

If these my offers be refused, and my endeavours can take no place, and I, having run thousands of miles to do you good, shall be rewarded with rigour, I have no more to say but to commend your case and mine to almighty God, the searcher of hearts, who sends us his grace, and sets us at accord before the day of payment, to the end that we may be at last friends in heaven, when all injuries shall be forgotten.

19 January 2025    Sunday 2 C           Is 62:1-5     1 Cor 12:4-11       Jn 2:1-11

O KEY OF DAVID!

 

O KEY OF DAVID!

‘O key of David ...what you open no one else can close.’ So sings the church at evening prayer on 20 December. God comes to dwell among us and open up the store of energy locked away until ‘the time is fulfilled.’ The time is now fulfilled. This is the time. That is why we rejoice. No one knew, until modern times, the energy locked away in the oil under the ground. Nor did anyone guess we could produce electric power to generate light and heat.

These are images, parables, of the energy locked away in each of us – waiting to be released. The coming of the Word of God, Jesus of Nazareth, the key of David, releases energy on the world. We have only to think of Saul of Tarsus, locked up in his Jewish zeal for the law, frustrated it wasn’t leading anywhere. Then he is overcome by whatever it was that happened to him at Damascus. It was like releasing a pent-up spring. He taught, he preached, he travelled, he wrote and he suffered.

His influence and that of his companions spread everywhere, transforming late antiquity so that within a few centuries, the key was unlocking doors until the desert and the sea put a temporary halt to their reach. Over subsequent centuries, the key of David reached the furthest lands.

The process continues but now it is a call, no longer to go further, but to go deeper. Each person has gifts, even the poorest and most disabled. But often they are unknown, hidden. As we celebrate Christmas, we can search, as the wise man from the East did, for this key to our own hearts and to our hidden gifts. And the key to the hearts and gifts of others. What is stopping us unearthing these treasures, ‘hidden in a field’, we carry around with us every day?

These are gifts, not for our own enjoyment – although that too - but to be shared. One who knows their gifts and can share them, transforms the world.   As we kneel in our imagination before the crib, it is a great sorrow if we cannot unwrap our gifts. Something prevents us. Our fear of failure or ridicule? Or our circumstances which block our freedom to be who we are. Jesus, the Key, stands there waiting to help us. That’s why he came.  He is creating a new heaven and a new earth. But he can’t do it without us.   

22 December 2024          Advent 4C   Mic 5:1-4    Heb 10:5-10       Lk 1:39-45

SING A NEW SONG

 SING A NEW SONG

As Advent gathers momentum the theme of joy dominates. All this Sunday’s

readings announce it. Zephaniah: ‘Shout for joy ... have no fear. Paul: ‘I want

you to be happy’ and Luke, ‘a feeling of expectancy had grown among the

people.’

Just this past week the people of Syria breathed freedom again after more than

seventy years of oppression. Hopefully they can build on it. And there was

another moment of hope to raise our spirits last week. The first stone was laid

for the building of the Cathedral of Notre Dame (Our Lady) in Paris in 1163,

that is 861 years ago. The huge cathedral that rose on that island in the River

Seine which runs through Paris, became the symbolic heart of the nation.

And today, when many French people are paying little attention to the liturgical

practice of their faith, Notre Dame remains a sign of pride and cultural identity

such that when it almost burned down five years ago, it was like a death in the

family. People wept in unbelief.

The President of the Republic promised it would be rebuilt in five years and so

it was. It was revealed to us in renewed splendour last week such as it must

have been eight hundred years ago, before the candle wax and smoke of

centuries cased it in grime.

Watching the re-opening, one could not but wonder! First at the joy of rebirth,

this time enhanced by modern lighting from floor to distant ceiling. Then by the

organ peeling out in an abandonment of triumph. But then also, by the coming

together, for once, of people of varied views. For the active Christians of France

it was a thrill they will never forget. For the retired Christians it was a moment

awe, they will surely ponder. And even for the politicians, who perhaps looked

for a little leverage from the occasion, it must have made their rivalries seem

trivial.

But in the Christian tradition, cathedrals only have the role of a memorial.

Ultimately, they are not where God dwells. However beautiful, they cannot

compare with the human person, the true residence of our God. ‘He came to

dwell among us’, says St John, and it is the hearts and lives of his people that

the Lord has made his home. This is why, the Church shouts, ‘Gaudete!’

‘Rejoice!’ ‘Your servitude is at an end.’ The long imprisoned in Syria have

stepped out into the sunlight, blinded by it for a moment, yet hopefully ready to

begin a new life. In all sorts of ways, this is also our joy.

15 December 2024 Advent 3C Zeph 3:14-18 Phil 4:4-7 Lk 3:10-18

 

A DOSE OF HOPE

 

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.

 

W. B. Yeats wrote these words a hundred years ago and it seems each generation feels the same about the times in which they live! The poem continues:

 

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned; 

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

 

That fits our time, we say; only today I heard these sentiments applied to our country and the speaker added they could be said of the whole world. There are good reasons why someone might lose all hope as they see wars and famines, droughts and floods, migrations and abuse. Each generation thinks their parents’ generation has made a mess of things and they will do better.

 

Advent is the season of hope. The varied images of Isaiah flood into out consciousness. ‘Every mountain shall be levelled, every valley filled and all humankind will see the salvation of God.’ Are these all false promises, fake news? Our faith tells us the opposite. God is at work. We may not see the results but we are on the way – despite appearances - to build a better world. Take just one event in the twentieth century: the Declaration of Human Rights in 1948. Much work has been done – and continues – to realise this ideal.

 

A friend sent me the first of the BBC Reith lectures this week. The speaker, Dr Gwen Adshead, spends her life in studying violence. She is able to help victims and perpetrators of violence to understand and she is helping us all to move beyond blanket punishment, like imprisonment, to building new relationships and harmony in the community. When we talk about ‘seeing the salvation of God’ we are not talking about God sending an angel from heaven to restore a broken bond between people, we are talking about people like Adshead – and they are many like her working quietly day in and day out – who painstakingly pick up the broken pieces and make something new.  

 

Remember, the cry of Advent is above all, ‘Rejoice in the Lord always’. We are on the way and, like seamen navigating the oceans, we do not see ‘the distant scene; one step enough for me’ (J. H. Newman, 1801-90). ‘I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for welfare, not for evil (Jer 29:11). So can we see this time as one where we all receive a ‘dose of hope.’                                                                                                                       8 Dec 2024.        Advent 2C               Bar 5:1-9                Phil 1:4…11            Lk 3:1-6

 

‘THE COLOUR PURPLE’

 

‘THE COLOUR PURPLE’

Most colours are easy to make but purple…? It took centuries to discover. That is why Lydia (Acts 16:14) was somebody of note. She was in the trade. It was so rare it was reserved for emperors. Why did the Church choose it for Advent? I don’t know; but it might be something to do with the approach of royalty. The Messiah revealed himself in Bethlehem – so we use purple in Advent. And he revealed himself even more in his death and resurrection – so we use it in Lent.  

Whatever the reason purple is a combination of red and blue. Red stands for violence. Blue for peace. Our life is actually a combination of the two. We long for peace but Jesus said, ‘I do not come to bring peace but the sword’. Peace can only be achieved through violence – not to others – but to ourselves. ‘Unless you overcome yourself, you cannot be my disciple’.

What is different between this Advent and last Advent? Is it all vanity, as the writer, Qoheleth says; ‘What was will be again … there is nothing new under the sun.’ That was a bleak moment in the Old Testament. The underlying message of both the Old and New Testament is that we are involved in a process towards a goal. Paul appeals to the Thessalonians, to make more and more progress in reaching it.

The goal of all our efforts is to bring justice and peace to people everywhere. (Alice Walker wrote a novel, The Colour Purple, about the sufferings of African-Americans in the early 1900s in Georgia, USA).  The struggle for justice is the plan of God from the time of Abraham and it has to be achieved by human sweat because God has given us freedom and it can be hard to work to use our human freedom to achieve his divine aim. Thy kingdom come! But God cannot take short-cuts; that would be to disrespect our freedom. But we, humans, put up huge resistance and that is why the Church gives us these periods – Advent and Lent – to change, to overcome ourselves and let God in, so as to reach the goal.  ‘Watch yourselves or your hearts will be coarsened … and the day will spring on you like a trap,’ warns our gospel.

There is a homely image in Shona about strength oozing back into a tired person like milk intro a cow’s udder. Perhaps that is what Advent is – a time when we are renewed by the promise and joy of Christmas which comes to us once more. We are renewed after the tiredness of the passing year and, like footballers, enjoy the interval before the second half.

1 December 2024  Advent 1 C  Jer 33:14-16   1 Th 3:12-4:2    Lk 21:25…36

THE MESSIAH, THE KING

 

THE MESSIAH, THE KING

Imagine the shock of Saul at Damascus when he realised ‘this Jesus’, whose followers he was persecuting, really was the Messiah, the hoped for one of Israel. He had been full of zeal, determined to crush this breakaway group which was distorting the tradition of Israel. And now he has discovered these very people are the true inheritors of the longed-for promise given to Abraham.

So this was the plan of God after all. The Messiah would not be a heroic figure like David who crushed the enemies of Israel and built an empire in which the Jews could live undisturbed in peace. He would be a carpenter’s son from a remote village in Gailee who would be rejected by the very people he came to serve, condemned to death and die like a criminal in excruciating pain.

This is not what he, Saul the zealous Jew, expected. It was not what even Jesus’ closest followers expected. When Peter first learnt about the prospect, he burst out, ‘far be it from you that this should happen.’ Yet, as we know, this is precisely what did happen and John’s gospel, which we read today, tells us Pilate too was confused. And perhaps we too, who claim to know the whole story, can be confused.

A crucified Messiah! The feast of Christ the King was introduced quite recently – only a hundred years ago. (That is ‘recent’ in the story of the church!) It was a time, in Europe, when three emperors and a number of kings were overthrown. In their place came several -isms; Communism, Fascism, Nazism. It was a dark period with ripple effects across the world.

In the midst of it, the Church suddenly announced the celebration of Christ the King. Rulers may fall and -isms arise but the reign of the Messiah would continue until history was fulfilled. The reflection we stay with is what happened next when Jesus announced to Pilate that, yes, he was a King and that he had come to announce his reign. Pilate condemned him to death.

Jesus’ suffering and death are central to his kingship. He calls us to share in his life, his glory. This means that we must also share in his suffering. We flee from suffering. Naturally. No one wants to suffer and Jesus prayed that ‘this cup pass from me’. But, when it cannot be avoided, it is not a useless waste; it is the way we share in the work and the reign of the King. 

24 November 2024     Christ the King           Dan 7:13-14    Rev 1:5-8     John 18:33-37

‘THE SUN WILL BE DARKENED …

 

‘THE SUN WILL BE DARKENED …

… and the moon will lose its brightness.’ These are hard-to-handle words of Jesus in Mark chapter 13. What did he mean? Well, any of us can come with their suggestion. I don’t think the words are to be taken literally. It seems to me he was indicated great drama at the end of time. The ‘boundary’ between heaven and earth, as we understand them, will disappear. What we take as ‘normal’ will disappear. The kingdom of God will finally and completely ‘overtake’ us. The Son of Man will appear in his power and glory and ‘gather’ his people.

As we approach the end of another year, we are given readings that encourage us to be steadfast and persevere, even if they are strange. After a long jail sentence, we will finally be free. We are moving towards a fulfilment not only of what we desire but – far more – what we cannot even dream about now. These are lofty thoughts, drawn from the Book of Revelation and other texts especially the Prophecy of Daniel about the ‘Son of Man’ (7:13).  But, to come down to earth for a moment, we can at least understand the word ‘gather’.

Quite a lot of ‘scattering’ goes on in the scriptures and in our life. The Jews were exiled and scattered among the nations and, at the Passion, all Jesus’ disciples were scattered (Mk 14:27). Families scatter as children move away from home to look for opportunities. The sick and aged move from their familiar surroundings and often end up in a lonely corner where few visit them. We can be ‘far from home’ in so many ways. Even personally, we can be ‘scatter brained’, failing to concentrate and we end up aimless and frustrated.

Jesus gathers his people ‘from every tribe and tongue and people and nation’ (Rev 5:9) into the kingdom of his Father. He does it now when he finds a ‘lost sheep’ far from home and yearning for belonging. He does it through us when we reach out to the poor and lonely, the sick, the orphans and the disabled. And there are the migrants, the displace and the abused. He will gather them.

The apocalyptic (revelation) readings we hear as the year closes, alert us in startling language, that ‘the time is near’. The twigs on the fig tree grow supple and the leaves come out. It is a sign that he is near, ‘right at the gates.’ 

It is helpful and healthy to live in expectation, ready to be surprised, awake and alert, like a bird pecking in the grass but with one eye out for the cat or the hawk. ‘Stand ready’ is the constant message of this time of the year.

17 November 2024    Sunday 33B    Dan 12:1-3    Heb 10:11-18    Mk 13:24-32