Cleansing the Temple: Pure Worship

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Cleansing the Temple: Pure Worship

13 When it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. 14 In the temple courts he found people selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money. 15 So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple courts, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. 16 To those who sold doves he said, “Get these out of here! Stop turning my Father’s house into a market!” 17 His disciples remembered that it is written: “Zeal for your house will consume me.”

18 The Jews then responded to him, “What sign can you show us to prove your authority to do all this?”

19 Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days.”

20 They replied, “It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and you are going to raise it in three days?” 21 But the temple he had spoken of was his body. 22 After he was raised from the dead, his disciples recalled what he had said. Then they believed the scripture and the words that Jesus had spoken.

John 2:13-22

What follows is the text of a sermon I preached on 11th March 2012 at St. Martin’s Church, Dorking (Methodist Congregation).

This morning we’ll be looking at the idea of purity of worship, but before we begin, I want to ask you a quick question.

Have you ever flown with Ryanair?

Having travelled with them several times in the past, I have to say that I would only fly with them again if there really was no other choice.  I find the seats very uncomfortable.  It irritates me that they have scrimped so much on their aircraft that there is no storage on the back of the seat in front.  I can’t stand the way they promote their lottery scratch cards.  What irritates me the most, though, is their pricing strategy.  It seems designed to catch people out and grab as much money from them as possible.  Yesterday I checked the cost of flights from London to Rome.  Ryanair’s headline figure was £25.99, but when I clicked through, the total cost came to a staggering £203.09.  Even at that high price, there is still the possibility that customers may have to pay additional fees.  Should a passenger turn up at the gate with hand luggage that is deemed too big, from this summer they will face a massive £100 fee to check the bag into the flight.  Ryanair’s staff actually get a 50 pence bonus for each bag that they make customers check in.  To me, the whole set up seems designed to fleece their customers for as much money as they possibly can.

This picture of an organisation trying to fleece people for all they can by embracing rather questionable tactics is not dissimilar to the Temple as visited by Jesus in today’s Gospel reading.  Just like Ryanair, the Temple had developed strategies that seemed intended to catch people unaware and to rip people off.  Unlike Ryanair, which is, after all, a commercial operation, the Temple was intended to be the House of God, the place where Jews and non-Jews alike could come to worship in the presence of God.

It’s not surprising, then, that Jesus was angry.  Here he was, in his Father’s house, and it was being treated as nothing more than a money-making venture for the authorities.

So, to our first point.  The first issue I believe we see raised from our Gospel reading today is the idea of purity of corporate worship – the worship of God with other people.  That, after all, was the focus of the Temple in Jerusalem, and that’s why we’re here today – to worship God with other people.

The Temple in Jerusalem was the focus of the Jewish faith, the beating, pulsating heart of Jewish life.  It was more than a mere place of worship, however; Jewish people believed that it was the dwelling place of God amongst his people.

At the time of year we read about in our Gospel today, the Temple would have been a particularly busy, crowded place with Jewish people from far and wide in attendance to celebrate the festival of the Passover. This was a commemoration of Moses leading the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt, a particularly important date in the Jewish calendar. The festival of Passover saw Jewish people from far and wide make a pilgrimage to the Temple.  It was this busy, bustling Temple that Jesus arrived at in John chapter two.

John records vividly what happened when Jesus arrived in the Temple. Jesus, a man we normally think of as a calm, quiet, placid character, was greatly angered by what he saw, and was not afraid to let his anger show.

Why, though, was Jesus so angry?

As soon as Jesus entered the Temple, he was confronted by people selling cattle, sheep and doves.  These were the animals which, under Jewish law, were required for sacrifices.  At Passover in particular, they would be needed in large number.  It might seem perfectly natural for the Temple to have these animals on hand, ready to purchase.  Some people, after all, would have travelled a considerable distance to make their sacrifices.  It would have been a rather arduous task to bring their sacrificial animals with them, so surely the Temple was offering a useful service.

Sadly, the stalls which Jesus saw in the Temple were not there to provide a service for the pilgrims, but to fleece them of as much money as possible. What angered Jesus was the way in which those selling sacrificial animals, the Temple authorities, were ripping off ordinary worshippers.  Animals for sacrifices cost up to ten times as much if they were purchased inside the Temple, compared with prices outside.

What was to prevent a worshipper buying an animal for sacrifice outside the Temple gates, in the bustling markets of Jerusalem?

Animals for sacrifice had to be pure, blameless and spotless.  All animals that were brought to the Temple had to be checked by an inspector, for which a fee was payable.  Unsurprisingly, a large number of the animals that were brought to the Temple were failed, requiring pilgrims to purchase new animals, which had been pre-approved, from the stalls within the Temple.

The Temple authorities had a similar racquet going on with coinage.  Every Jew over the age of nineteen was required to pay a Temple tax of half a shekel, equivalent to about two days’ wages.  This had to be paid in either Galileaen shekels or in sanctuary shekels, since ordinary coins were deemed to be unclean.  The money changers in the Temple were there to provide a service, changing coinage into a form considered clean.  The problem was that the money changers charged exorbitant fees for their services.  A straightforward change of a non-clean half shekel to a clean coin would require a fee.  If change was needed, another fee would apply.  Suddenly, just like an airline’s credit card fees, paying the Temple tax could become very expensive.

Jesus was not just angry about what was happening inside the Temple.  He was also angry about where it was happening.

The Temple complex consisted of a number of different areas, from the Holy of Holies in the centre, then the sanctuary, and then the Court of the Gentiles.  This was the section of the Temple to which non-Jewish people could come to meet with God.  And it was this section in which Jesus had discovered the animal sellers and money changers.  Not only were the Temple authorities ripping people off, but they were preventing people who wanted to worship God from doing so.

It’s not surprising, then, that Jesus was angry.  The Temple, a place of worship, had been utterly desecrated.  The noise and bustle prevented people from meeting with God.  Worship was pretty much closed off to all non-Jews by the market atmosphere in the Court of the Gentiles. The Temple authorities were ripping people off, trying to fleece them for as much cash as they could.  And this was happening in his Father’s house, the dwelling place of God and the focus of Jewish worship.

Jesus was aroused to such great anger by what he saw that he made a whip out of cords and drive the animal sellers out of the Temple, before overturning the tables of the money changers, sending their coins flying.

Jesus was absolutely furious, because the Temple was no longer a place of genuine worship. It had become a place marked out by corruption, dishonesty and hypocrisy. It had become the centre of an empty, formal religion. It was a place where those who ran it were not concerned for the souls of those whom they encountered, or genuinely serving God, but were out for what they could get. It was a place where many of the worshippers, having been brought up to know a corrupt Temple, worshipped out of a sense of duty and obligation rather than because they genuinely wanted to know God.

The corporate worship of the Jewish people had been utterly destroyed by the ungodliness of the authorities.

I wonder what Jesus would make of our places of worship today if he visited?  How would our corporate worship stand up in the face of a visit from Christ? I wonder if Jesus would be happy with the way we conduct our worship, or if he would be enraged by what he saw?

Jesus demands a purity from our corporate worship, and a genuine focus on God.  He wants our church authorities, our leaders and preachers, to be genuine people of God who feel called to lead God’s people in worship and to preach the message of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  I wonder how our churches would stand up to Jesus’ scrutiny?

Jesus expects a clear focus on God from all those who serve in our churches, to ensure that every aspect of our corporate identity is directed towards worshipping God.  He expects those who lead our music, or sing in the choir, or make the tea and coffee, or edit the church newspaper to be clear that the tasks they are undertaking are directed towards worshipping God.  He wants all of us, every single person in the church, to be inspired by a genuine desire to live out the Gospel and to serve Jesus Christ in all that they do.

I wonder what Jesus would make of our church buildings? Have they become like the Temple in Jerusalem, closed centres of commerce, or are they open, welcoming and friendly to all people.  Jesus expects our churches to facilitate our worship, not to distract from it.  Is there anything that we need to change in our church building to ensure that the main focus of our church is the worship of God?

What about newcomers and visitors to our congregation? Is there anything in what we do or what we say that prevents them from knowing God? Jesus expects our our services to be clear and straightforward, not burdened with complex language and strange music that makes it difficult for visitors to understand what we’re doing.

What would Jesus think if he visited our churches today? Would he be pleased with what he saw or would he be angry? Would he see genuine worship or a place too concerned with empty ritual? Would he feel forced to take up a whip to cleanse and purify our churches, or would he sit amongst us and worship his father with us?

The second point I want to consider today is concerned with personal worship – worship which is made very important indeed by Jesus’ words in our Gospel passage today.

In the second part of our reading today, Jesus totally turns the whole concept of the Temple on its head.  The Jewish people in the Temple had clearly been deeply disturbed by what they had seen. Their response to seeing Jesus’ anger is to demand a sign from him to prove that he has the authority to clear the Temple.  Jesus knew, though, that faith does not come from signs, and so he does not give them the sign that they demand.  Instead, he them rather cryptically, saying, “destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days.”

His audience clearly think this statement is ridiculous.  They tell him that it took forty-six years to build the Temple, and he is claiming, it seems, to be able to rebuild it in three days.  They know that there is absolutely no way Jesus could do as he claims!

As is so often the case, however, they misunderstood what Jesus was saying. As John makes clear in his account, Jesus was referring not to the stone building he was standing in, but to his own body.  His statement foreshadows his death on the cross and subsequent resurrection.  He knew, right from the start of his ministry, that his ultimate calling was to die, that the next three years would lead him to the cross.

Jesus’ statement is more profound than anyone at the time could have understood. Indeed, John comments in verse 22 that it was only after Jesus’ resurrection that they fully understood the significance of this statement.

Jesus’ claim to be able to raise the temple in three days, which John understood to mean his body, is significant because it turns the whole concept of worshipping God on its head.  As a consequence of Jesus, the Temple became totally irrelevant; God no longer dwelt in the Temple. John makes this clear right at the start of his Gospel, when he states the the Word, which is God, “became flesh and made his dwelling among us.”  Jesus is the new Temple, the new focus for the worship of God.

Jesus statement that the Temple would be destroyed but that he would raise it again in three days is a direct reference to his own death and resurrection.  When Jesus was nailed to the cross, the Temple was destroyed.  When Jesus rose from the dead, the Temple was raised.

We see in the Gospel accounts that at the moment of Jesus’ death on the cross, the curtain in the Temple, which separated the Holy of Holies from the sanctuary and prevented people from approaching God was ripped in two.  When Jesus died, the barrier between man and God was removed.  At a stroke, the Temple in Jerusalem, and all that happened there, became utterly irrelevant.

As Jesus predicted in our Gospel reading today, however, three days after his death on the cross, he rose from the dead, having defeated sin and death, a triumph of good over evil.

With Jesus, the Temple in Jerusalem is irrelevant.

Thanks to Jesus we do not need to go to a building to worship God.

We no longer need to sacrifice birds and animals to God.

As a consequence of Jesus’ death and resurrection, we can approach God directly.

Elsewhere in the New Testament, the irrelevance of the Temple as a centre for worship is made even clearer.  In 1 Corinthians 12, Paul describes the Church as the body of Christ.  If the Church is the body of Christ, and the body of Christ is the new Temple, then we, the Church, are the new Temple.  God no longer resides in a building, but in all of us.  We don’t need to go to a building to worship God, because he, in the form of the Holy Spirit is in us.  Instead, if we chose to worship God, we should do so with the temples that are our bodies, our minds, our hearts and our souls.  Worship, in the context of the death and resurrection of Jesus, is something that we should do with every fibre of our being.  Our whole lives should be offered to God as a spiritual act of worship.  As Paul famously states in Romans chapter 12, “I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God – this is your true and proper worship.”

As the Temple should have been focused entirely on worshipping God, so now should the temples of our bodies.

This is personal worship taken to an entirely new level.

I wonder what implications Jesus’ cleansing of the Temple in Jerusalem has for the new Temple of our lives?  If the Temple is now not a building but our bodies, our hearts and our souls, I wonder how we ensure that we are right before God?

Perhaps as well as looking at our church buildings and our services, we also need to look at ourselves, and ensure that we do not taint our worship of Christ.

Perhaps we need to look at our own motivation.

The Temple authorities in Jerusalem were more concerned about what they could get out of their position rather than facilitating real worship.  I wonder what our motivation for worshipping God is?  Is our worship hollow and empty, merely going through the motions? Or is our worship based on a genuine, deep felt, life changing passion for Jesus?

Why are we here today?  Is it out of a genuine desire for worshipping God, for learning about Christ, and for sharing fellowship with one another?  Or are we here out of a sense of duty to someone else?  Do we come to worship with reluctance?  Or maybe we’re here because our friends are here, and it’s a nice thing to do, to come and chat with out friends once a week?

Are we like the Jews who responded to Jesus’ clearing of the Temple, demanding signs and miracles?  Or are we passionate about hearing his word?  Do we listen to God, diligently reading his word in the scriptures, and listening to him in prayer?

I wonder if we keep the Temples of our bodies, our hearts, our souls and minds clear of detritus that prevents our worship, or that taints our worship?  Do we live for Christ, seeking to serve and honour him in all that we do?  Or is there something that prevents us from truly worshipping Jesus?

Do we need Jesus to come into our hearts and minds, and to clear away all the stuff that prevents us from genuinely worshipping him?

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Cleansing the Temple: Pure Worship
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You are my child, whom I love

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9 At that time Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10 Just as Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. 11 And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

12 At once the Spirit sent him out into the wilderness, 13 and he was in the wilderness forty days, being tempted by Satan. He was with the wild animals, and angels attended him.

14 After John was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. 15 “The time has come,” he said. “The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!”

Mark 1:9-15

What follows is the text of a sermon I preached on 26th February 2012 at Southwater Community Methodist Church, West Sussex.

Have you ever been told by someone that they love you?  Isn’t it a wonderful, magical experience.  There’s something really affirming about hearing from another human being that they love you.  We all crave love, whether it’s the love of a partner, or a parent, or a friend or a child.  Life without love can seem bleak.  If we feel as if no one loves us, we can feel disconnected from the world.  Love gives us the assurance that we are good people, that we are not alone, and that we have value in the eyes of our friends and family.

Have you ever told someone that you love them?  It sounds like the easiest thing to do, and we’re all aware of the impact our words can have on someone.  Sadly, saying “I love you” is something that many people struggle with.  Men, in particular, often struggle to say those three words, perhaps because they perceive feelings as something very feminine, perhaps because they were rarely told by their fathers that they loved them.  I think women, in general terms, are much better at declaring their love, whether it is to their parents, to their children, or to their friends.

Whether or not you’ve ever told someone you love them, whether or not you’ve ever been told by someone that they love you, there is an incredible verse in our reading today in which God declares his love for his son, saying “you are my son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

This verse is incredibly powerful, and we’ll spend some time this morning reflecting on this verse and the significance it has for us today.

That, in fact, is our first point; God is not just pleased with Jesus, he is pleased with us too.

In our Gospel reading this morning, Mark introduces us for the first time to Jesus.  In verse nine we see Jesus coming from that most unlikely of places, Nazareth in Galilee, to be baptised by John the Baptist.  His baptism represents the start of his earthly ministry.  Just us for Christians baptism represents a commitment to loving and serving God, for Jesus baptism signifies that he is beginning the journey that will ultimately lead him to the cross.

Jesus’ baptism also represents his equipping for the role he has in front of him.  Mark describes how as Jesus was coming out of the water, he saw heaven being torn upon and the Spirit descending on him like a dove.  It is interesting that the Spirit should take the form of a dove, a bird which symbolises peace.  Jesus was not going to be some militaristic leader.  Jesus will conquer, he will save, he will lead his people to freedom, but not in the manner which was commonly understood.  Jesus was the servant king who conquered not through violence but through love.  It was his love for God and for all God’s people that meant that he defeated death and brought hope to all who believe, across time and space.

Jesus’ baptism also represented a moment of approval.  As the dove descended, Mark tells us that a voice came from heaven, proclaiming “you are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”  Here we see God’s unconditional love flowing out of heaven towards his son Jesus.  At this point Jesus has not started his ministry.  He was yet to preach, to heal, to drive out demons, and to teach.  He has yet to conduct miracles.  He certainly has not gone to the cross by this stage.  Jesus had probably lived a relatively normal life in Nazareth with his family, perhaps working with Joseph, his adopted father, in his carpentry workshop, maybe alongside his brothers.  Yet despite this, God still proclaims his love for his son.  He still tells him that he loves him.  This is true unconditional love; love for love’s sake, love for who Jesus is rather than what he has done.

It is this verse that really stands out for me, for two reasons.  It shows the love that God has for us, but it also gives us a model as to how we should love.

Verse eleven shows the love that God has for us, and the kind of love that this is.

If we are baptised, believing Christians who seek to follow God, then God regards us as his children, as his sons and daughters.  This proclamation from heaven is directed not just as Jesus, but also at us.

God says to us, “you are my child, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

And just as God loves Jesus for who he is, not for what he has done, he loves us for who we are.  He unconditionally proclaims his love for us.  He does not love us for what we have done.  He loves us for who we are.  He knows everything about us, the good stuff and the bad stuff, and yet he still loves us.  Even when we disobey him or turn from him, he still loves us.  There is nothing that we can do that will separate us from the love that God has for us.

What’s more, he is well pleased with us.  When we serve him effectively, follow his commands faithfully, and display his love always, he is pleased with us.  But even when we let him down, when we neglect and reject him, when we disobey him and dishonour him, he is still well pleased with us.  Why?  Because his love for us is unconditional.  It is not dependent on anything we do or say, anything we refrain from doing.  He loves us because of who we are.

This should be a cause for celebration for all of us, that the creator God knows and loves us all, regardless of what we do or do not do.  For the many who have not experienced the unconditional love of a parent, though, this is particular cause for celebration.

Perhaps you did not have the love of an earthly father.  Perhaps you grew up without knowing your father.  Maybe your father was distant and seemed unloving.  These are particular challenges for our society.  Yet through all these challenges we can be assured that we have a father in heaven who is desperate to shower unconditional love on us.  We do not need to earn his love or seek to please him.  He already loves us.

Verse eleven also provides us with a model of how we should love.

If God loves us unconditionally, we too should love unconditionally, and, perhaps more importantly, not be afraid or worried to show our love, or tell people that we love them.

If we allow our friends and families to think that we only love them because of their accomplishments, then we devalue that love and could end up harming those that we love.  This is conditional love, not unconditional love.  It’s also worth remembering that accomplishments, positions of prestige and honour are not always permanent.

Claire, my wife, is a doctor.  I am very proud of her success in her chosen career, but if I allowed her to think, even subconsciously, that I only loved her because she was a successful doctor, then this could be very damaging for our relationship.  Claire might worry about what might happen to our relationship if she was made redundant.  Would I still love her?  What if she decided to take a career change, and decided to become, say, a biology teacher.  Would I still love her?

The answer to these questions is, of course I would.  But if she felt that I would love her less because of her change in position, my love is not truly unconditional.  If Claire felt that she had to continue in her career because it was the basis for my love for her, she could well end up getting hurt.

The same is true for our children.

I realise I speak with no experience of parenting myself here, so if you are a parent, feel free to tell me I’m completely wrong at the end of the service if you wish, but if parents allow their children to think that their love for them is based solely on their achievements, then our children could potentially be harmed by their perception that our love for them is conditional.

If we place too much emphasis on a child’s success at school, how will our child feel if they fail an important exam?

Or if our child is accomplished on the sports field, will they feel that our love for them will be diminished if they lose a game?

Or if we seem too excited by the prospect that our child may become a successful lawyer, or brain surgeon, will they feel that our love for them will be lessened if they decide that they want to be a hairdresser?

We put all kinds of pressure on each other in our society today.  It is a tremendous risk that others think we love them only for what they do, their accomplishments, and not for who they are.

We need to reflect on the love that God displays to Jesus in this passage – true, unconditional love based on who Jesus is, not what he has done.

God is not afraid to declare his love for his son, and neither should we be afraid to declare our love – to our children, to our families, to our friends.

God is delighted to be able to tell his son that he is well pleased with him, even before Jesus began his ministry.  We should take the time to display our pleasure in our family and friends, just for who they are, no matter what they have or have not done.

Remember that statement in verse eleven as Jesus is baptised.

“You are my child, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

Draw comfort from these words in the days and weeks ahead.

The second point I want to consider today is Jesus’ stay in the desert, particularly pertinent to us today, on the first Sunday in Lent.

No sooner does God proclaim his love for Jesus enters the desert for forty days and nights.

Interestingly, if we look at verse twelve, it is the Holy Spirit that sent Jesus into the desert, the same Holy Spirit that descended on him like a dove when he was baptised.

I’m sure there are many of us here today who feel that we have spent time in the desert.  Probably most of us have had times in our life when we’ve felt alone and neglected.  I know I have.  It may be difficult to comprehend as we go through the difficult patches in our lives, but it may well be that just as the Spirit sent Jesus into the desert, God has sent us into the dark valleys of our lives.  Jesus left the desert stronger, with a renewed sense of his mission and a heightened love for his father, due to the reliance he had to have on him.  The same is true for us; God does not send us into the desert to destroy us, but to build us up, to draw us to him, and to improve our lives when we leave the desert.

The truth is, of course, that whilst there will be moments in our lives when we feel stuck in a particularly dry, bleak desert, our entire lives are being lived in the desert, the spiritual desert of twenty-first century Britain.

Every day it seems that Britain becomes a drier desert, with the nourishing, living water of Jesus being scorched all around us.  People are laughed at for their beliefs.  Some find themselves facing difficulties at work because they choose to wear a cross.  Prayers are banned in council meetings.  There’s much talk of militant secularism sweeping our land.

We find ourselves in a spiritual desert just as Jesus found himself in a physical desert.

Just as the Holy Spirit sent him into the desert, we too are sent by God into this desert.

We are not alone, however.  Through all the devil’s temptations, during the danger Jesus felt from wild animals, God’s angels were with him.  Mark records how they “attended” him which suggests that not only were they with him, but they supported him and cared for him through his trials.

As they were with him, so too they are with us.  We may not recognise them as angels, but I’m sure we’ve all been in a situation in which we’ve needed support or help, and it has been given.

We may find ourselves in a spiritual wilderness.  We may find ourselves at different points in our lives feeling as if we are in a personal wilderness.  Throughout it all, though, God never forgets us.  What we should not forget as we confront difficulties in our own life is that remarkable statement from God in verse eleven, “you are my child whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

Also worth remembering is the remarkable truth of the good news that Jesus came to bring all people, and it is this that we will look at in our third point today.

We’ve already seen that this passage comes right at the very start of Jesus’ministry, which started after John the Baptist was put in prison.  The very first words that Mark records Jesus saying, at the start of his ministry, are, “the time has come, the Kingdom of God is near.  Repent and believe the good news!”

Some people think that the call to repentance, to turn from our sins, is bad news.  Some would have you believe that it is the “bad” things that make life enjoyable, and that living a Christian life is a dull business.  Yet Jesus calls on people to repent and believe the good news.

One writer has summarised the good news that Jesus brings into six key points:

It is good news of truth, because in Jesus we can see what God is like.

It is good news of hope.  Jesus brings hope where there seems to be none.

It is the good news of peace because the sin that wars within us has been conquered by Christ.

It is the good news of God’s promise, because he is a God who is ready to give more than we are to ask.

It is good news of immortality, because we are on the way to life rather than death.

It is good news of salvation, the power to live victoriously and to conquer sin.

Never let anyone tell you that the Christian life is somehow lacking, because being a Christian means having life to the full as we look forward to eternity in heaven with our God.

Never let anyone tell you that Christianity is something other than a force for good, because there is nothing at the root of our faith other than goodness.  Anyone who sees anything other than God’s goodness is not seeing authentic Christianity, but a warped version of it, distorted by those who claim to believe.

Jesus does, however, make a demand on our lives, and we see this here in his first statement.

He calls on Christians to repent.

Jesus calls on us not just to say sorry for the wrong things that we do but to turn away from wrong doing, to turn our backs on sinfulness.  At times this may be difficult.  Sometimes it may seem almost impossible.  But the promise of goodness that lies before us if we truly repent far outweighs anything that sin may offer us.

As we strive to truly repent we need to hold on to that amazing statement:

“You are my child, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

We may struggle.  At times we may fail.  Regardless, God still loves us unconditionally.

Jesus also calls on us to believe.

This demand is simple, yet at the same time difficult.

At its most simple, we are asked to believe that Jesus is who he says he is, and that the claims he makes are true.

Yet in a society that in which secularism and atheism seem to be getting stronger by the day, in which Christians are portrayed as fantasists who cling on to fairy tales, in which religions are blamed for all the wrongs in the world, it can be hard to cling on to our faith and to believe there is anything other than what we see before us, let alone that there is a God who loves us so much he sent his son to die for us.

Throughout it all, though, hold on to that statement from God:

“You are my child whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”

So as I draw to a close this morning, let’s just reflect on the three points in this morning’s Gospel reading.

God loves us and is well pleased with us, not because of what we’ve done but because of who we are.  He loves us unconditionally.  Let’s accept that love and try to model it ourselves, loving the people in our lives unconditionally.

We live in a spiritual desert, and there will be times when that desert seems particularly bleak.  But God has sent us into the desert, not to harm us but to build us up.  He is always with us, and will protect us in the desert.

Finally, do not forget that incredible message from Jesus.  We are called to repent, and to turn away from our sin?  Why?  Because the kingdom of God is near.  We need to trust in Jesus, trust in the statements that he made and the actions he undertook, trust that there is a loving God who sent Jesus to die for us, and trust that we can have hope in a future far better than anything we’re currently experiencing.

The Call of Christ

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The Call of Christ

43 The next day Jesus decided to leave for Galilee. Finding Philip, he said to him, “Follow me.”

44 Philip, like Andrew and Peter, was from the town of Bethsaida. 45 Philip found Nathanael and told him, “We have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law, and about whom the prophets also wrote—Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.”

46 “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” Nathanael asked.

“Come and see,” said Philip.

47 When Jesus saw Nathanael approaching, he said of him, “Here truly is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.”

48 “How do you know me?” Nathanael asked.

Jesus answered, “I saw you while you were still under the fig tree before Philip called you.”

49 Then Nathanael declared, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the king of Israel.”

50 Jesus said, “You believe because I told you I saw you under the fig tree. You will see greater things than that.” 51 He then added, “Very truly I tell you, you will see ‘heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on’ the Son of Man.”

John 1:43-51

What follows is the text of a sermon I preached on 15th January 2012 at London Road Methodist Church in Horsham, West Sussex.

I met Claire, my wife, on February 16th 2008. I was visiting Katie, a friend from university, who lives in Belfast. Katie, who I suspect may have been match making, invited Claire to join us for dinner in the evening. I was blown away by Claire’s beauty the moment I saw her. By the time I left Belfast, I knew I wanted to be with her. Unfortunately, though, Claire lived in Belfast and worked very long hours as a hospital doctor. I lived in Sussex and worked long hours and six or seven day weeks as a teacher in a boarding school. No matter what I wanted, it just seemed impossible that it could work out. Finding time to meet up would be incredibly difficult. Flying backwards and forwards between Gatwick and Belfast would be incredibly expensive. There was no way it could work. I pondered it long and hard but ultimately decided that it would not work, so it was pointless thinking about it.

Of course, in the end, it did all work out, but that’s another story!

Why am I telling you this? Well, sometimes we meet a person who has the potential to transform our lives. In order for that transformation to take place, though, we usually have lots of considerations to make. Do we make time in our busy lives for this person? Do we allow them to disrupt our regular routine? Or do we turn our back and just carry on as we are.

In today’s reading we witnessed two people who encountered someone who radically changed their lives the moment they met him. Philip and Nathanael both encountered Christ, and, whilst both ultimately decided to follow him, the way they reached their decision to give up their own lives and follow Christ was markedly different.

Today we will consider the way in which Philip and Nathanael responded to their encounter with Christ. We will reflect on whether we see anything of ourselves in Philip and Nathanael. And we’ll reflect on what a life following Christ might mean. We’ll do so under three headings – follow me, come and see, and finally, a question: what will we see?

So to our first point, then: follow me.

The first person we witnessed encounter Christ in our gospel reading today was Philip. What is noticeable straight away is how John describes their encounter. Today we often speak of “seekers,” people who have not committed their lives to following Jesus, but are looking for him with the possibility that if they find him, they will follow him. Looking at this encounter in our reading, however, it seems that when we speak in this way we might have got things the wrong way round. Take a look at John 1:43. It is not Philip who was seeking. It was not Philip who found Jesus. No, John is very clear in his writing that it is Jesus who found Philip.

It is worth remembering in our faith lives that it is not true that it is we who are seeking Jesus, it is not us who is looking for God. Rather, God is seeking us out. He loves all his people and is desperate to have a relationship with us, to get to know us. The question is – will we be open to his approach?

Philip was most definitely open to Jesus’ approach.

Without any introduction whatsoever, Jesus said to Philip, “follow me.”

Jesus’ command hit Philip right between the eyes. For Philip there was no question about what to do. He immediately dropped everything to follow a man that he had only just met.

For Philip this single moment represents a life changing decision, yet his response was instantaneous. He could justifiably have said, hang on, this is a rather big step you’re asking me to take. Do you really want me to follow you? Do I really have to decide now?

Philip could have responded by replying, “but I don’t know anything about you!”

He didn’t, though.

Philip could have come up with hundreds of different reasons why he shouldn’t follow Jesus.

He didn’t though.

Jesus commanded him to follow, and he did.

There was something so powerful about the very presence of Jesus that Philip unquestionably dropped everything to follow Jesus.

I wonder if you can identify with Philip here? We all have our own conversion stories. I wonder if yours is like Philip’s? Was there something about Jesus that struck you instantly that meant you had to drop everything and follow him?

Philip’s particular conversion is magnificent because there is something truly supernatural about it. There is nothing that we, as mere humans, could do to effect an experience like Philip’s. Philip encounters Christ and is immediately transformed. His life is immediately changed.

Did you hear Jesus’ call, “follow me,” and surrender your whole life to him?

Perhaps you’re here today as a non-Christian, trying to find out more about this Jesus that we worship. Maybe you would describe yourself as a seeker. If that’s you, then reflect on the way in which Philip came to follow Jesus. Philip was not looking for Jesus. Philip did not set out to find Jesus. Instead, Jesus set out to look for Philip and found him. In the same way, Jesus is out looking for each of us. If we’re open to him, as Philip was, he will find us, and he will ask us to follow him.

Are we following Jesus? Have we responded to his call of “follow me?” Like Philip, have we dropped everything and surrendered our lives to respond to his call?

Let’s move on to our second point: come and see.

Whilst Philip’s response to Christ was immediate and unquestioning, not everyone’s response is quite so dramatic. The second person we met in our reading was Nathanael. His decision to follow Christ was rather different to Philip’s, because his conversion did not start with Jesus, but with a friend.

That friend was Philip.

Philip was so excited about finding Jesus that he immediately had to go and find his friend Nathanael. Philip’s excitement was bubbling over, and there was nothing that he could do to contain it. He just had to share his faith.
I wonder if we feel the same way? If we know and love Jesus, does our excitement at finding our saviour lead us to seek out our friends to tell them about Jesus? Does our passion for Christ bubble over when we’re with our friends to the extent that we cannot help talking about him?

If it doesn’t, why is that? Do we truly know Christ? Do we honestly follow him? Have we really surrendered our whole lives to him?

Let’s look at the kind of guy Nathanael was. It quickly becomes apparent that he was rather different to Philip.
Nathanael was a devout Jew who took his faith very seriously. He knew his scripture, and had previously been spotted by Jesus sitting beneath a fig tree, a common place for Jewish people to sit, ponder the scriptures and pray.

He was also clearly an intellectual sceptic.

Philip began his introduction to Jesus by stating that “we have found the one Moses wrote about in the Law and about whom the prophets wrote.” Philip knew that the way to share Jesus with his friend, the devout Jew, was by appealing to Jewish scripture.

On hearing Philip’s introduction, though, Nathanael remained sceptical. On hearing that Jesus comes from Nazareth, he responded, “can anything good come from there?”

Perhaps this was first century inter-town rivalry. Or perhaps Nathanael, as a scholar, knew that the prophecies of the Old Testament point to the Messiah hailing from Bethlehem.

Perhaps he would have responded differently if he had known that Jesus was born in Bethlehem.

Philip’s enthusiasm was not diminished by Nathanael’s cynicism. Far from it. Instead, he urged his friend to “come and see!”

He knew that if Nathanael encountered Jesus for himself, he could not help but be transformed. He knew that if Nathanael was to encounter Christ and experience the passion and excitement of knowing Jesus, just as he had done just moments before, Nathanael would have to leave his intellectual comfort zone and place himself before Christ. If he was to know Christ, Nathanael would have to meet Christ and experience Christ.

I wonder if you have ever attempted to bring someone to faith, perhaps a friend or a family member, who has responded in the same negative, cynical way that Nathanael did initially. Nathanael sneeringly responded to Philip that no good could possibly come from Nazareth. At that point, Philip could have argued and debated with Nathanael, telling him that he was wrong, that Jesus is good, that Jesus is worth following. Instead, Philip instinctively knew that they only way that Nathanael would come to know Christ for himself would be by encountering him face to face, so he invited him to “come and see.”

Rather than engaging in fierce arguments and debates with our non- Christian family and friends, we would be much better off inviting them to “come and see,” to come and meet Jesus for themselves.

How do we enable someone to meet Christ for themselves today, though? How do we emulate Philip’s invitation to “come and see?”

Since Christ dwells in all who truly believe, if we are true Christians then we can introduce people to Jesus through the way that we live, the things that we do, the words that we say. We can also invite our friends to groups like Alpha or Christianity Explored where they can have the opportunity to encounter Christ in his word and to ask questions.

Nathanael deserves credit, because he took Philip up on his invitation to “come and see.” Nathanael was an honest sceptic who was willing to follow the truth, wherever it might lead him, so he did go with Philip to meet Jesus.

Philip was absolutely right to invite his friend Nathanael to come and see. Nathanael does encounter Jesus, and as Philip suspected, he immediately dropped everything to follow Jesus.

What immediately hit Nathanael about Jesus was that Jesus already seemed to know him. Nathanael was stunned by Jesus knowledge of him.

On seeing Nathanael approach, Jesus commented, in verse 47, “here truly is an Israelite in who there is no deceit.”

Nathanael was shocked, because Jesus seemed to know him already. This was more than a casual, “haven’t I met you somewhere before?” Jesus did not just recognise Nathanael’s face. He knew what was on his heart. Unfortunately, from reading the Gospel account we don’t really know what it is about Jesus’ greeting that so shocked Nathanael, but clearly there was something. Some have speculated that Nathanael, whilst he had been studying God’s word under the fig tree, may have been reading about Jacob’s encounter with God in the desert. Jacob could have been said to have been deceitful, since when he encountered God in the desert he had left his home after deceiving his father and cheating his brother out of his birth right.

When Nathanael first met Jesus, he was shocked because by Jesus’ reference to him being “an Israelite in whom there is no deceit” by which Jesus could be making a direct comparison between Jacob and Nathanael. Clearly if Jesus did know exactly which text Nathanael had been studying, be would have been a little surprised!

Whatever it was about Jesus’ statement to Nathanael, it clearly stunned him because Jesus displayed knowledge of Nathanael’s thoughts which, if Jesus was an ordinary human, there was no way he could know.

Nathanael, in a state of some shock, asked Jesus, “how do you know me?”

Jesus replied, in verse 48, “I saw you while you were still under the fig tree before Philip called you.”

Nathanael was absolutely gobsmacked by this response. Jesus seems to have not only seen him whilst he was under the fig tree, but seen into him, seen what he was thinking, seen what was on his heart.

At this, Nathanael’s scepticism withered away. He now knew that this man Jesus was special. How else could he have known so much about him? He recognised that Jesus had supernatural knowledge. It was the only way that Jesus could know what he had been thinking.

In response, Nathanael immediately declared, “rabbi, teacher, you are the Son of God; the king of Israel.” His thinking was immediately changed. Indeed, Nathanael’s very world was changed by the recognition that Jesus was the Son of God.

If we will only “come and see” Jesus for ourselves, he will transform our lives too. If we recognise that Jesus is the son of God, our thinking will be changed, and our world transformed.

If we encourage our friends to “come and see” too, the same will be true for them. If they genuinely encounter Christ they will respond in the same way that Nathanael did.

What is it that makes following Christ such an exciting proposition, though? What is the reward that awaits Philip, Nathanael, the rest of the disciples, and us too, if we follow Jesus?

The answer to that lies in Jesus’ response to Nathanael’s declaration of faith, and it is that answer to which we will now turn our attention in our third point.

It is in the next part of our reading that Jesus addresses the question we may ask, if we come and see, what is it was shall see?

After Nathanael’s recognition that Jesus is the Son of God and King of Israel, Jesus told his new disciples that they would see incredible things if they stick with him.

Jesus took Nathanael and the others back to the passage in Genesis that Nathanael may have been studying whilst sitting under the fig tree. In that passage Jacob, who had been forced to leave home, lies down to sleep and sees a vision. In that vision, he saw a ladder, with its foot on the ground and the top reaching heaven. On the ladder he saw angels of God going up and down it. Above it he saw God, who promised him that he would give Jacob and his descendants the land on which he was lying. All people, God promised Jacob, would be blessed through his offspring.

In his promise to Jacob, God once more demonstrated his love for his people. Previously, people had tried to reach up to God at the Tower of Babel, and been punished by God. Now, though, God was himself reaching out once more to his people in the hope that they would come to know him and establish a positive relationship with him.

A ladder, though, is temporary. When a new house is built a ladder is used temporarily to link two floors. Once the house has been completed, the ladder is removed, and is replaced with a permanent staircase.

Here, in our gospel reading, we see Jacob’s ladder replaced with something much more permanent; the Son of Man himself, Jesus, the Messiah, the promised one of God. Through Jesus, God’s blessing has been opened up to all peoples, made permanent and everlasting. Jesus pioneers the new way in which the living God will be present and with his people. Jesus is the Son of Man who opens heaven to all who believe and trust in him.

This is the message, then, that Jesus had for his first disciples, and that he has for us today. As he turns to Nathanael and says, “you will see greater things” than merely Jesus’ supernatural reading of his hopes and fears, he is saying to Nathanael, his disciples and to us, that if we follow him, we will see truly astonishing things. Jesus’ power stretches beyond mere insight. What we will see with Jesus is the reality to which Jacob’s ladder and the Jewish scripture that Nathanael knew so well had been pointing.

Jesus shows us what happens when heaven and earth are bridged.

He shows us what it is like to be in God’s kingdom.

Why?

Because if we follow his example and live to serve, to love and to hope, we will see God’s kingdom built here on earth.

Jesus’ reading of Nathanael’s thoughts pales into insignificance against the true wonders of God’s heavenly kingdom.

If we follow Jesus, we too will see God’s kingdom. We too will see the greater things that Jesus promised his disciples.

No matter how we respond to Jesus’ call on our lives, we will witness miracles in our own lives, in those around us, and in the world in which we live.

No matter whether we respond as Philip did, unquestionably accepting Jesus’ call, trusting instantly in his word, or whether, like Nathanael, we have questions that can only be answered by an encounter with Christ, we are a part of God’s new kingdom.

The question today is, will you respond to God’s call? When Jesus asks us to follow him, will we do so? Will we accept that call on our lives?

And if we will, how will we respond to that call?

Will we be eager to rush out and tell our friends about Jesus?

Will we want to bring them to Jesus so that they can have an encounter with him for themselves?

Will we urge our friends to come and see Christ for themselves, as Philip did Nathanael?

Whatever we do, let’s ensure that we respond to that call and play our part in building God’s kingdom here on earth in the here and now.

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Come, follow me

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Come, follow me

As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. ‘Come, follow me,’ Jesus said, ‘and I will send you out to fish for people.’ At once they left their nets and followed him.

Going on from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John. They were in a boat with their father Zebedee, preparing their nets. Jesus called them, and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.

Matthew 4:18-22
Some years ago, I was (confession coming) fairly politically active. In fact, that’s something of an understatement. I helped run a couple of local general election campaigns and manned the phones in a national call centre cold-calling voters (sorry…). I even stood for election to my local council on a couple of occasions. During this period of my life I met a number of interesting people. One of these had worked in America supporting a congressional candidate. He told me about a rally that he once attended that was being addressed by Bill Clinton. My friend had a front row seat. Although my friend was not, by any means, a Clinton supporter, he found himself inexplicably drawn to the ex-president. Clinton was just so charismatic that he managed to get even his opponents out of their chairs, cheering him on. It was not until after the rally that my friend even became aware of the impact that Clinton had had on him.

I’m struck in the passage from Matthew above by the reaction to Jesus from the people that he met. Jesus was, presumably, unknown to Peter, Andrew, James and John. But look at the response that they have to Christ. Jesus saw Peter and Andrew fishing, and called to them to follow him. If a stranger walked past my classroom whilst I was teaching and said, ‘Simon. follow me!’ I would probably ignore them, deciding that they were pulling my leg or a little mad. Even if there was something that drew me to the stranger, I’m not sure that my boss would be very impressed if I just walked out! This was not how Peter and Andrew responded, however. They left their nets at once and followed Jesus. The same is true of James and John. They too were fishing, and when Jesus called them, they immediately downed tools and followed him. I wonder what it was about Jesus that led these four tough fishermen to stop what they were doing and follow him?

In contrast to the fishermen, we are deeply privileged. They knew nothing about Jesus when he called to them. We, though, have the Gospel accounts readily available that give us a real insight into the identity of Jesus. We also have the testimony of millions of Christians who have gone before us, and had their lives transformed as a result of a personal relationship with Christ. As a result we know his teaching and his miracles, and we know about his death and resurrection. Despite having so much more evidence about Jesus available to us I suspect that few of us respond to Jesus in the same way that the disciples did. Even if we profess to follow him, that enthusiasm is sadly rarely seen. Perhaps we need to take a leaf out of the fishermen’s book and be more enthusiastic and excitable our our relationship with Jesus!

I wonder if we jump to follow Jesus in the same way that the first disciples did? Is following Jesus the absolute priority of our lives? Do we turn to the Gospel accounts day after day, seeking to understand him better? Do we pray to him, to share our deepest thoughts with him? Can we really say that we have a relationship with him and follow him unconditionally? Are we as enthusiastic as Peter, Andrew, James and John? How do we respond to Jesus’ challenge to come, follow him?

Prepare the Way: Make Straight Your Paths

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Prepare the Way: Make Straight Your Paths

What follows is the text of a sermon I preached on 4th December 2011 at Cobham Methodist Church in Surrey. It is based on Isaiah 40:1-11, 2 Peter 3:8-15 and Mark 1:1-8.

I wonder if you were affected by the strikes this week? According to the TUC, two million people stayed away from work on Wednesday in protest at the government’s plans to make changes to public sector pensions. I have to say that, had it not been for the reports on the news and a few exchanges on Facebook, I wouldn’t have even noticed that the strikes took place.

The only effect the strikes had on me were the age old insults that are thrown at me because of my chosen profession. You see, I’m a teacher. Many of my friends believe I have it easy because they think I only work 9 to 3, and have long holidays. If only that were true, I tell them.

The life of a teacher is full of stresses and demands. Not only do we teach, but we have masses of marking to do, hundreds of hours of preparation to undertake, and at this very busy time of year, huge numbers of reports to write.

By far the most stressful time for a teacher, though, is when OFSTED visit for an inspection.

At my school we are currently awaiting the OFSTED inspectors with bated breath.

These days, we don’t get any advance warning. They could come anytime during the course of this year.

That puts a lot of pressure on us to ensure that everything is perfect all the time.  We have to make sure our buildings are safe and attractive. We must ensure we are following all necessary legislation.  Our lessons must be outstanding all year. And we must keep on top of marking.

We need to prepare the way for the inspectors.

We need to make everything right for them.

That idea of “preparing the way” is something that we reflect on at this time of year, during Advent.

As we prepare to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, the first arrival of our Messiah, our thoughts turn to the return of Jesus, not as a humble baby, but as the majestic defeater of death, the heroic bringer of new life.

That’s what we’re going to be thinking about today through our three readings. We’ll look first at ‘who is coming’? Then we’ll consider the coming of the Messiah and the response of ordinary people to this incredible news. Finally, we’ll reflect on the second coming of Jesus, and how we should prepare ourselves for this monumental event.

Let’s first turn to the question of ‘who is coming’?

Advent is a time of expectation. We all look forward to the coming festivities. Television in particular really builds the sense of expectation that many of us feel. One of the most famous adverts on television at this time of year is one for Coca Cola that has been shown for many years. It shows a phalanx of trucks passing through woods, towns and villages. Everywhere they go, they light up the way, all to a sound track which gently reminds us that “holidays are coming, holidays are coming.”

Then, of course, there’s the much-discussed John Lewis advert, which shows a small boy eagerly anticipating Christmas day. We’re all supposed to think that he is looking forward to opening his presents, but in fact, he is most looking forward to giving his parents a present.

The Old Testament is full to bursting with anticipation. Anticipation for what God is going to do with his people. Anticipation for the arrival of the messiah who is going to save God’s people once and for all. That sense of anticipation is particularly pronounced in our reading today from Isaiah. The prophet talks of “a voice of one calling: “In the wilderness prepare the way for the LORD; make straight in the desert for our God.”

Sometimes it feels like we’re living in a wilderness, in a desert where the love of God seems absent. We watch the news and see nothing but hatred and violence. We read the newspapers and see reports of our country teetering on the brink of economic meltdown. We see everywhere the consequences of trying to live our lives our own way, of pushing God out of our society. We see all around us the results of our own selfishness and lack of love. We see people starving. We see war and murder. We see young people taking their own lives because they are overwhelmed by a sense of despair, a bleakness that inhabits their hearts, their minds, and their souls.

Our world has become a wilderness, devoid of hope. Our lives have become deserts, devoid of love.

And yet there is hope.

There is hope because as the prophet foretells, the LORD is coming. Our God is coming. And he is going to transform our world.

He will raise up every valley.

He will make every mountain and every hill low.

Rough ground will be level.

Rugged places will become plains.

And there, in that world that has been turned upside down, back to front and inside out, the glory of the LORD will be revealed.

All people will see the glory of the Lord.

This is hope that is worth holding onto. This is anticipation that is valid.

This isn’t anticipation of a holiday, or a fizzy drink. This isn’t anticipation of a special episode of a favourite television programme. This is anticipation of a truly world changing event, the arrival of the messiah, of God himself.

It is not just the world itself that will be transformed by the arrival of the Messiah; lives, too, will be changed. The prophet promises us that the coming LORD “tends his flock like a shepherd. He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.”

He will take all his people along the way for the LORD. He will not leave the weak behind, because he cares for each and every one of his people. He will carry those who need carrying, and lead those who need to be led.

Despite his tremendous power, he loves his people, cares for them, and will take them with him.

Our passage in Isaiah is a really useful introduction to the arrival of the Messiah. It vividly shows us the power he will have, and the glory the he will possess. It also shows us how much he cares for his people, the love he has for them, and the willingness with which he will lead us to his kingdom. But what the prophet does not do is put either a name or a face to this rather conceptual introduction.

To put a name and a face to the Messiah, we need to turn to the New Testament.

And that brings us onto our second point, which is the first coming of the Messiah and the response of ordinary people to his arrival.

I was lucky enough to begin my teaching career in quite a prestigious school. Once or twice each year, members of staff were invited to a rather special dinner. I love a free meal and the chance to dress up in my finery, so whenever I was invited, I jumped at the chance to go and cleared my diary. For some reason, these dinners also attracted the great and the good, and on several occasions I met members of foreign royal families who, for some reason, had turned up. Perhaps because of the presence of royalty, when we arrived at the venue, we were announced by a herald and the assembled throng would slow hand clap us as we entered. I always felt a little inadequate being announced as plain ordinary Simon Lucas, esquire, when others were introduced as the Right Honourable, or His Lordship, or Her Royal Highness! It was certainly an interesting experience nevertheless!

In our gospel reading, we witness two heralds announcing the arrival of the Messiah, as prophesied by Isaiah. Mark, the writer of the Gospel, and John the Baptist, leave us in doubt as to who is arriving on the scene, nor what his credentials are.

The very first words that we read as we pick up Mark’s gospel are, “the beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God.” If we were in any doubt at all as to the identity of Jesus, Mark makes it explicit. As far as he is concerned, this Jesus of whom he writes is the Messiah, the anointed one, the Son of God.

This is the Christ who has been foretold throughout the Old Testament.

This is the Messiah who Isaiah introduced us to.

Now, though, we have a name for him.

The Messiah is Jesus.

And whilst Isaiah built up a sense of anticipation but did not suggest when the Messiah might arrive, Mark makes it plain that the Messiah is here. He’s come. He’s waiting in the wings, poised and ready to start his incredible work.

The Messiah is Jesus.

Just to make doubly sure that we are clear on this point, Mark quotes a verse from Malachi, “I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way,” and also from the passage in Isaiah that we have just looked, at “prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him.”

We are then immediately introduced to John the Baptist who Mark fundamentally believes is the herald of the arrival of the Messiah.

The sense of anticipation really builds at this point. John the Baptist drew an enormous following, all eagerly anticipating the arrival of the Lord God himself, who will save his people. Mark tells us that thewhole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to John the Baptist.

During advent we anticipate Christmas. We anticipate the arrival of the baby Jesus.

At Christmas, people who do not normally go to Church attend their local services.

The sense of anticipation, however, is nowhere near the level that it was when John the Baptist announced the arrival of the adult Jesus.

In a survey published by YouGov this week it was revealed that 24% of British people expected to attend a Church service this Christmas. This is well up on the usual figure of 6% of people who usually attend Church at least once a month, but is nowhere near the level that Mark records turning out to see John the Baptist.

I wonder what it was about John the Baptist that attracted so many people?

Perhaps it was his unusual clothing.

Maybe it was news of his unusual diet of locusts and wild honey.

Was it because of his preaching of, as Mark records, “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.”

Why did so many people turn out to hear this peculiar man speak? And what led them to confess their sins and be baptised?

There are no easy answers to these questions, but they are nevertheless worth asking. In the spiritual wilderness of the United Kingdom in the twenty first century, how do we point people to Jesus and his teaching, as John the Baptist did? How do we attract whole towns and cities to listen to the word of God and to repent of their sins? How do we heighten anticipation for the return of the Messiah?

Perhaps we might find some answers in our final point. Rather than looking at others and pondering why they do not respond to the gospel, perhaps we need to look first at ourselves, and to reflect on our own response. How does it bear up against the instructions we read about in Isaiah, or the attitude of John the Baptist.

My parents came to visit us recently. They were due to arrive on Sunday morning in time for church. Claire, my wife, and I got up early and set to work cleaning and tidying our flat. We thought we would have plenty of time, because my parents usually ring or text or ring as they’re leaving, which gives us a warning of at least two hours.

Apart from on this particular occasion when they rang to tell us they were ten minutes away.

A mad dash ensued as we tried to hide washing up, stuffed clutter into cupboards, and showered and dressed for their imminent arrival.

Of course, if we’d been more sensible, or less busy people, we would have readied the flat for their arrival the day before, if not earlier.

In the passage from Peter’s letter that we read this morning, he reminds us that Jesus will come again. He won’t give us a warning of his return, not even a ten minute warning. He will come “like a thief,” totally unannounced. We must, therefore, be ready for his return.

This is the unifying theme that runs through all of our readings today.

In Isaiah we heard that we must prepare a way for the Lord in the wilderness of our Godless world.

We also heard that we must make straight a highway in the desert of our own sinful lives.

We had a similar instruction in Mark’s gospel, in which we were told to “prepare the way for the Lord and make straight paths for him.”

We also read how John the Baptist preached a “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.”

Peter offers more advice, advice that we need to take on board as we await the return of the Messiah. Since the day of the return of Jesus is coming, we must always be ready, he says. He tells us that we must live “holy and godly lives.”

He continues that we must “make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him.”

In all three of these passages it is clear that as we wait for the Messiah, for Jesus, we are called to action. We are called to transform our own lives and to transform the world.

We need to begin with ourselves. We must ensure that we are right before God, that we repent our sins and that we strive to live lives that are holy and godly. We are fortunate that we live between the first and second comings of the Messiah, because we have Jesus as a guide for how to live our lives. We need to strive to be spotless and blameless, just as he was. We need to try our hardest to live lives free from sin, to sacrifice all that we have to serve Christ, and to put the needs of others before ourselves. Above everything else, we need to ensure that we love; that we love God, that we love ourselves, and that we love others.

Before we can make make paths through the wilderness we first need to deal with the deserts of our own lives.

Perhaps this is why John the Baptist attracted whole communities out to see him.

Maybe this is why Jesus was followed by thousands of people wherever he went.

Because there was something that set them apart from the rest of us, that made them different.

They were living the gospel that they preached, whereas so often we fall short and fail to do so.

Maybe our churches are not full to bursting at Christmas because we fail in our quest to live holy and godly lives, to be spotless, blameless and at peace with God. Maybe when people look at us they don’t see anything that marks us out as different in our sinful, fallen world.

Perhaps we don’t recognise the significance of the message that we have to proclaim and fail in the instruction that we read about in Isaiah, to shout the good news from mountain tops, to lift up our voices with shouts proclaiming, “Here is the Lord!” Maybe that cry isn’t loud and clear, but muffled and hidden.

If we fail to live in this way we fail God, but we also fail our society. The crowds following John the Baptist and Jesus reveal something about ordinary people that perhaps we might have forgotten. Everyone longs for a sense of greater good, for belief in something better than themselves and for hope in the future. Everyone longs for forgiveness, the opportunity to say sorry and to start their lives afresh. If we do not demonstrate that through Jesus Christ these opportunities are freely available for all, we have failed in our ultimate calling.

So as Christmas approaches lets stand firm against the commercialism and nonsense of the modern festival and reclaim it for Jesus.

Let’s use this time of advent to reflect on how we live in the light, not of the first coming, but the second coming.

Are we ready for Jesus’ return?

Are our lives worthy of him?

Are we distinctive and different because of our beliefs?

And let’s ensure that we embrace every opportunity to present the gospel to others.

Do we proclaim the gospel at every opportunity, shouting it from the hilltops?

Do we offer people an opportunity to find hope in future resurrection through Jesus Christ?

Do we offer an opportunity for repentance, for a fresh start, and for the love and support not just of God, but the whole of our Christian family?

Let’s ensure that this Christmas we seize every opportunity to point the world to Jesus Christ. Not just the baby Jesus in the stable, though, but to the Jesus who conquered death and will return in glory to lead us to his new creation.

Remembrance: Hope in Death

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Remembrance: Hope in Death

What follows is the text of a sermon I preached on Remembrance Sunday, 13th November 2011, at Leatherhead Methodist Church in Surrey. It is based on Isaiah 53, Mark 16:1-8 and Romans 6:1-10.

Today we think about those who have given their lives fighting for our country.  It is estimated that during the twentieth century, more than 160 million people died fighting in wars.  Of these, it is thought that 15 million people died during the First World War, whilst a further 66 million died during the Second. The scale of war casualties over just the last hundred years or so is just devastating and truly shocking.  It is difficult to come to terms with the scale.  The numbers are so vast that they can become meaningless.

What helped me to better understand the scale of the horror of war was a visit to Tyne Cot cemetery in Belgium, where 12,000 Allied soldiers who died during the First World War are buried.  This vast cemetery, with its never ending “row on row” of headstones, is the resting place of just a small proportion of the brave soldiers who fought for their country.  A memorial at the back of the cemetery lists the names of a further 34,000 soldiers whose remains were never recovered.

We have a lot to be thankful to these brave soldiers, and the thousands of others who died fighting for our country.  If it were not for them, we would not be able to enjoy the considerable freedoms that we do.

Of course, British soldiers did not cease fighting and dying with the end of the First or even the Second World War.  The British Army is still busy today, working around the world, and particularly in Afghanistan, supporting those who stand up to brutal regimes, and espousing the values of freedom and fairness wherever they go.  Indeed, since 2001, 385 British soldiers have lost their life fighting in Afghanistan.  If freedom can be brought to people in areas that otherwise would be subject to violence and oppression, whilst clearly very hard for their loved ones, the deaths of these brave men and women will not have been in vain.

In some ways, the death of a soldier fighting for peace and freedom is a helpful metaphor for the death of Jesus Christ, which we will be considering today. That’s what we’ll be considering today as we reflect on the ultimate sacrifice that a person can make; laying down their life so that others might enjoy freedom. We’ll consider how the death of a soldier during war can be a metaphor for the death of Jesus Christ. We’ll reflect on the crucial difference between Jesus’ sacrifice and that of a member of the armed forces. Finally, we’ll see that through all this talk of death, there is a bright hope for the future which is open to all.

Our first point this morning, then is that of the ultimate sacrifice; the surrendering of ones life so that others might be set free.

It’s remarkable that so many people over the generations have chosen to fight for their country gladly, and without concern for their own welfare. We can see this clearly during the First World War  One of the most brutal battles that the British army has ever fought is the Battle of the Somme, which took place during this so-called “war to end all wars.”  On the first day alone, the 1st July 1916, 20,000 men were killed, whilst another 146,000 Allied troops and 164,000 Germans died during the coming of the weeks.  Those who died were to a large extent cannon fodder in a war of attrition which would have a huge impact on post-war Britain.  With the order on the first day to calmly walk across the battle lines facing the full brunt of the German machine guns, they were like lambs going to slaughter.

You may recognise that expression.  We encountered it today in our first reading from Isaiah 53.  The chapter records how the Servant of God was “led like a lamb to the slaughter.”  Just as the men at the Somme did their duty and confronted the Germans, the Servant in Isaiah “did not open his mouth,” but calmly faced the death that he knew was coming.

This prophecy foreshadows the death of Jesus Christ.  Whilst Jesus pleaded with God in the Garden of Gethsemane to take away the cup of suffering that he had been presented with, ultimately he sought to conform his actions to the will of his Father, and for him, that meant death on the cross. He was willing to pay the ultimate price, because he knew that doing so would set us all free from a life of sin and despair, separated from the creator God.

There is another remarkable parallel between this passage in Isaiah, and the life and death of Jesus Christ. Isaiah, considering the death of the Servant, continues by asking the question, “yet who of his generation protested?” When the Servant goes to his death, there is no one who is willing to speak out in his defence, there is no one willing to question whether the Servant’s death is right or not.

This is similarly the case for Jesus.  When Jesus went to the cross, it was with the support of many of the people.  Certainly the Romans and the Jewish authorities were keen to despatch him.  Even the crowd, when asked by Pontius Pilate whom they wished to pardon demanded the release of Barabbas rather than the innocent and righteous Jesus.

Whilst the many British soldiers whose deaths we remember today lost their lives fighting for what they believed to be a better world, or at least a less imperfect world, the Servant in Isaiah dies for a higher purpose still.  In his death he took on the “transgression of the people,” namely sinners like us who daily fall short of the expectations that God has of us.  The life of the servant was “an offering for sin,” as it says in verse 10.  In his death, the Servant “bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.”

Just as the fallen of the two world wars, and numerous battles and wars since 1945, gave their lives for the benefit of the many, this servant, Jesus Christ, gave his life for all transgressors, including you and me.

This brings us to our second point, that death is not the end. Death was not the end for the Servant in Isaiah, and it certainly was not the end for Jesus.

The story of the Servant, as I’m sure we all know, clearly does not end with his death. In verse 10 of the Isaiah passage, we read, “yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him, he was put to grief; when his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days; the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.” Despite being killed, we are told that God will “prolong his days.” The Servant will receive eternal life.

This is what we saw in our passage from Mark 16. Three days after the death of Jesus, Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James and Salome, took spices to anoint the body of Jesus. When they got to the tomb, however, they were astonished and afraid by what they saw.  Jesus was not in the tomb.  Instead, they were confronted by a “young man sitting on the right side, dressed in a white robe.” Quite naturally, they were alarmed by his presence.

The message this mysterious man in white had for them was truly earth shattering. He told them that Jesus, whom they are seeking, has risen. “He is not here,” he tells them. “He has risen.” If they head to Galilee, he says, they will see Jesus there.

This staggering proclamation stunned and staggered the women. They had expected to find a closed tomb with the body of their beloved Jesus in his final resting place. Even after all that Jesus had said during his ministry, they were confused and upset by the absence of his body.

The prophecy of the Servant in Isaiah is borne out here with Jesus. Just as the Servant was “led like a lamb to the slaughter,” “cut off from the land of the living,” “bore the sin of many and made intercession for the transgressors,” yet would live to “see the light of life” and have his days prolonged, Jesus took the place of sinners on the cross, died, and was resurrected by the power of God.

The incredible revelation brought to the women here in Mark’s gospel has provoked many different feelings in people throughout the generations. The resurrection of a person nailed to a cross is something which, unsurprisingly, people have difficulty accepting. Some have simply dismissed the resurrection as a made up story, a myth circulated by the early Church. Some have sought to find a rational explanation, and have tried to explain the resurrection away by saying that Jesus did not actually die on the cross.

Others have accepted the miracle of the resurrection, believing that Jesus himself had explained throughout his earthly ministry that it was what would happen. Those who have accepted the truth of the resurrection have themselves been divided; some, like the two Mary’s and Salome, were nervous, whilst others have been excited not just by the resurrection itself, but also the implications it has for the whole of humankind. The resurrection, after all, offers hope, hope of a life that continues beyond the grave. A hope that is wonderful to consider as we contemplate today the loss of all of those who have lost their lives fighting for their country.

This brings us to our third and final point, the point that lies at the heart of the Christian gospel. Just as death was not the end for the Servant in Isaiah, just as death was not the end for Jesus Christ, neither is death the end for us today. Because of Jesus’ death and resurrection, we can have hope in a future that is eternal. What’s more, as we reflect today on the horrors of war and the loss of human life that flows from fighting, this eternal future is one free from violence and war, where love and peace abound.

This hope is brought out by Paul in his letter to the Romans. In our reading from the letter this morning, Paul described how “all who have been baptised into Christ Jesus were baptised into his death.” Paul is not giving baptism in itself some magical power here to transform our lives, but is recognising that baptism is simply an outward sign of the inward, spiritual conversion of Christians. If we turn to Christ, renounce our old, sinful ways, and strive to live like him, we are dead to our old selves. If we live in this way, we can share in Jesus’ death, since in dying Jesus took on our sin. To return to our Isaiah passage, Jesus “bore the sin of many,” and if we truly follow him, that applies to us, as it does to all those who love Christ.

Paul continues by saying, in verse five, that, “if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.” This verse reflects the true magnificence of the Gospel message. Not only are we freed from sin by sharing in Christ’s death, we are also united in his resurrection. Just as Jesus died and was resurrected and taken to be with his Father in heaven, so too will we. Paul is in no doubt at all as to the truthfulness of this statement; his words are that we shall certainly be united in a resurrection like Jesus’. There is no doubt. It is a certainty. Just as we can be certain that night will follow day, and that Spring will follow Winter, we can be certain that new life will follow death.

In verse seven of our Roman’s reading, Paul states that “anyone who has died has been set free from sin.” The expression “to be set free” has great resonance on Remembrance Sunday. Our armed forces have, throughout our history, fought to defend us and to uphold the values that we aspire to. This is, perhaps, no clearer than during the Second World War, when the western world battled against the forces of Fascism and Nazism. There is a very real sense in which those who fought during the Second World War fought, if not to set us free, then certainly they fought to ensure that we remained free from tyrannical ideas that were threatening lifestyles and even lives in countries not that far from our own. Today, two of the most important tasks of our armed services are to protect the freedoms that we enjoy at home, whilst also striving to set free those in other countries whose liberty and human rights are being abused. It is right that today we remember those who have made the ultimate sacrifice and paid with their lives for the freedom of others.

How much more, though, should we rejoice that Jesus sacrificed his life in order to set us free from sin? This is not just freedom in the here and now, but eternal freedom. Freedom that lasts beyond the grave. Had it not been for the death and resurrection of Jesus, we would be weighed down by our sin. We would not be able to approach God, much less have a relationship with him or to enter into his heavenly kingdom. There would be no eternal life if Jesus had not set us free from sin. It is only through his actions on the cross that we can be free.

In conclusion, then, how do we respond to all that we have heard today? How do we respond both to the sacrifice of those who have given their lives up for the good of others, so that they might be set free from earthly injustice, and to the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, who died so that we might be set free from sin for eternity? Well, today is primarily a day for remembrance. Let’s make a point in the days ahead, just as we have done today, to reflect on the sacrifices made both by our armed forces, and that sacrifice with eternal consequences by Jesus Christ. Let’s hold our armed forces in our prayers, those who are fighting, those who have been injured, mentally or physically, and those who have been killed in the line of duty. And let’s pray for those who have lost a loved one serving in the armed forces, as well as those who care and look after those who have been injured by war.

Let’s also reflect, though, on the hope that we have of a life after death, both for those killed in action, but also for ourselves. Let’s give thanks to God for his unending love for us that we can see through his eternal plan of salvation, which culminated in the death and resurrection of Jesus. And let’s praise Jesus for going willingly to the cross, to take the punishment for our sin, so that we might have eternal life.

Compassion: Are you the answer to your own prayer?

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30 The apostles gathered around Jesus and reported to him all they had done and taught. 31 Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.”

32 So they went away by themselves in a boat to a solitary place. 33 But many who saw them leaving recognized them and ran on foot from all the towns and got there ahead of them. 34 When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things.

35 By this time it was late in the day, so his disciples came to him. “This is a remote place,” they said, “and it’s already very late. 36 Send the people away so that they can go to the surrounding countryside and villages and buy themselves something to eat.”

37 But he answered, “You give them something to eat.”

They said to him, “That would take more than half a year’s wages! Are we to go and spend that much on bread and give it to them to eat?”

38 “How many loaves do you have?” he asked. “Go and see.”

When they found out, they said, “Five—and two fish.”

39 Then Jesus directed them to have all the people sit down in groups on the green grass. 40 So they sat down in groups of hundreds and fifties. 41 Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to his disciples to distribute to the people. He also divided the two fish among them all. 42 They all ate and were satisfied, 43 and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces of bread and fish. 44 The number of the men who had eaten was five thousand.

Mark 6:30-44

What follows is the text of a sermon I preached on 6th November 2011 at Southwater Community Methodist Church in West Sussex, for a Compassion Sunday service.

I’m sure you’ve heard of the expression to get out of bed on the wrong side. Sometimes, if we seem in a particularly bad mood during the course of the day, someone might ask us if we got out of bed on the wrong side.

Apparently this expression dates back as far as Roman times, when the left of anything was felt to be unlucky. For Romans, getting out of bed on the left hand side resulted in a foul temperament for the rest of the day.

My problem with this expression is one of perspective. Is the left hand side of the bed on my left when I’m lying on my back, or when I’m lying on my front? Depending on my position in the bed, the left side, or wrong side, alters.

I don’t actually hold to this ancient superstition. For me, what is most likely to effect someone’s temperament during the day is their first interaction with the wider world. If your first interaction is with someone who is unpleasant towards you, that, potentially, could leave you in a bad mood for the rest of the day. If your first interaction is a pleasant affair, with someone who responds to you in a loving, compassionate way, then you are far more likely to begin your day at least, in a cheery, happy fashion.

It’s amazing how such a small thing, a short interaction at the beginning of the day, can have such an enormous impact. Not only can the nature of that interaction set your mood for the rest of the day, but it can also impact on others around you because of the way that you, in turn, relate to them.

If someone shows you love at the beginning of the day, your attitude is likely to be loving and compassionate.

If someone shows you indifference, your attitude is likely to be more negative throughout the day. This brings us to our first point this morning.

In our reading today, we saw two totally different and contrasting attitudes towards the crowd of five thousand. Jesus shows compassion towards this vast throng, whilst the disciples see them as an inconvenience, an intrusion into their afternoon off.

In this well known passage, Jesus and his disciples have been busy teaching. By the point we encounter them, they are tired and hungry, and want a break. Jesus suggests that they go away to a quiet place to rest for a while. They headed off in a boat to find a spot where they could rest and relax, but crowds of people ran ahead. By the time the disciples’ boat had landed, there was already a large crowd of people waiting for them.

Now, if I was in this position, I think I would push the boat back into the lake and sail to somewhere quieter. Jesus takes a rather more charitable approach, however. Mark tells us that on seeing the crowd, Jesus “had compassion on them.” To him, the crowd were like “sheep without a shepherd.” He saw them as people who were wandering directionless, without a leader, unable to find nourishment or protection. He responds to their need by teaching them “many things.” He recognises that their primary need is to hear the Word of God, believing that this is the source of the direction that they lack.

The noticeable difference in attitude between Jesus and his disciples comes a little later, after Jesus has been teaching the crowd for sometime. The disciples suggest that, since it is getting late and people are getting hungry, Jesus should send the crowd away to find food. It is getting late, and they themselves are hungry. They have gathered in a remote place with no chance of finding food locally, so they think the best course to take is for Jesus to send them away so that they can fend for themselves.

It is clear that whilst the disciples are concerned that people by this time will be getting hungry, they personally do no feel any responsibility for the crowd. They are largely indifferent to their plight. They certainly do not believe that it is up to them to feed them. Tell them to go, they tell Jesus. Their attitude towards the people who have been listening to Jesus is “they’re not our problem.”

I have no doubt that if I was amongst the disciples, I would have felt much the same. The disciples were no doubt tired and hungry after a busy day, and the challenge of feeding five thousand people is something that they cannot even begin to contemplate. It’s not surprising that they feel no personal responsibility for the people. Why should they have to feed them?

I’m sure that we often follow the example of the disciples. We must all have seen hungry people and decided that they are not our problem. I’m sure we’ve all seen people in London with a cup and a “Homeless and Hungry” sign and walked past them without giving much consideration to their plight. They’re not our concern, we tell ourselves. Let someone else deal with that particular problem. We have enough stresses of our own to worry about someone else’s situation.

Sometimes as Christians, we might be moved to pray for the plight of others. We might ask God to intervene in a situation, but even then we are often reluctant to take practical action ourselves. When we see pictures of starving people in the Third World on television or in newspapers, we often pray to God and ask him to feed them. We see sick people and ask God to ease their suffering. We see victims of natural disasters and pray to God to support them.

When we respond in this way to what we see, we are responding in the same way as the disciples in today’s passage. These poor people in far away countries are not our concern. Someone else will deal with this issue. We’re tired and hungry, we’ve got enough on our plates without worrying about people thousands of miles away.

As I read about this miracle of Jesus feeding the five thousand, though, I can hear God responding to our pleas in the same way as Jesus responds to his disciples here. Jesus’ attitude is very different to that of the disciples, and often far removed from the attitude that we take.

When Jesus sees the plight of the hungry crowd, out in a desolate spot, he displays not indifference, but compassion. He does not turn the crowd away as the disciples urge him to do. He does not release them to find something for themselves to eat. Just as he has provided for their spiritual needs by teaching them, he is now determined to provide for their physical needs. These people are his concern. They have sought him out, followed him, and listened to him teach. He responds to the crowd not with the detachment of the disciples, but with great compassion.

As is often the case, though, Jesus shocks his disciples with his response. He doesn’t agree with them that the crowd should be sent away. He doesn’t even respond immediately with one of his miracles.  Instead, he turns the issue straight back round to the disciples.

They say to him, send the people away.

He says to them, YOU give them something to eat.

He presents his disciples with a seemingly impossible task. They were flabbergasted by his instruction. How could they possibly be expected to give this huge crowd something to eat? The suggestion would have seemed preposterous. Yet the instruction is clear; YOU give them something to eat.

I have no doubt that God is saying the same to us as we see images of starving people, or people affected by disaster. We might pray to God, and ask him to do something, but as I read through today’s passage, I can hear saying back to us, YOU do something. I can hear him saying to us:

YOU feed the poor.

YOU ease the suffering of the sick.

YOU support victims of natural disasters.

This is certainly not to say that God does not care about people in need; he loves his whole creation, and that includes each and every person who walks upon the earth. He calls on us, though, to build his kingdom here on earth, to serve him, and, of course, to demonstrate his love to all people. We are often the tool by which God works out his plans for the world. He uses us, his people, to be the difference in the world.

That’s what Jesus asks his disciples to do here. He turns to his disciples and says to them “YOU give them something to eat.”  He turns it back on them.  If they want to see the kingdom of God come, if they truly want to follow Jesus, then they need to begin taking responsibility. They need to have the attitude of Christ in all things.

Here, Jesus’ attitude is clear; we must do something about these people. They are our responsibility. It is up to us to look after them. He wants his disciples to adopt this attitude too, which is why he says to them, YOU give them something to eat.

When we cry out to God for help for those who are less fortunate than we are, he turns it back to us and says, “you do it.”  He wants us to adopt his attitude and to have the same heart that he has for the people. He wants us take the initiative, to put our money where our mouth is and to take action.

I wonder how often when we cry out for God to help those in need we stop to think, what would he have me do? Do we share his attitude? Do we have the same heart for his people that he has? Do we combine pray with action?

There are two distinct attitudes in this passage; the “not our problem” attitude of the disciples, and the compassion of Christ. I wonder which is closer to our own attitude?

Our second point today is concerned with the miraculous way in which Jesus turns something small into something amazing. Jesus takes just five loaves of bread and two fish and somehow satisfies the hunger of five thousand people.

As we have seen, whilst the disciples are keen to turn the crowd away, Jesus shows great compassion and wants to provide for their physical needs as well as their spiritual needs. He does so, however, by shocking the disciples yet again.

When Jesus tells the disciples, “YOU give them something to eat,” they must have thought that he had gone mad. How could we possible feed this many people, they would have thought. There’s no where to get food from, and even if there was, it would cost far too much money to buy enough for five thousand people, far more money than they had.

Yet Jesus’ response to their disbelief is to ask them, “how many loaves do you have?” This must have seemed an absurd question to the disciples; there’s no way they could have had the quantity of food necessary to feed this large crowd. Jesus expects them nevertheless to do what he says and to trust him for the outcome, so they duly investigate how much food they have between them.

Jesus expects his disciples to do what he asks, and to trust him for the outcome, so they duly check how much food they have, and report back that they have five loaves and two fish.

No doubt they believed that what they had was completely inadequate. Five loaves of bread and two small fish was barely enough to feed the twelve disciples, let alone to provide enough food for five thousand hungry people.

No doubt you have also felt that way. I know I have when confronted with the needs of the world. Living in the UK, I may be rich compared to much of the world’s population, but when I see millions starving in Africa on the news, my paltry income seems totally inconsequential. Even if I gave every penny I have, I often think, that would hardly scratch the surface of the problem of hunger. How can I, as an individual, do anything about the millions of people starving in the world?  The millions who are staring poverty in the face?  The millions who have a very bleak future in front of them?  Even if I wanted to do something, I simply do not have enough cash to have any real impact on the situation. I’m sure you’ve felt the same. Like me, you’ve probably watched something like Comic Relief on television and given a tenner because you feel you ought, although you’re not convinced it will really do any good at all. Consequently, we fail to do anything. We leave it up to governments or the super rich to take action. They, after all, have the resources to do something. We do not.

In today’s passage, however, we see how Jesus can work miracles with even the smallest amount. The five loaves and two fish may have seemed inconsequential to the disciples, but in Jesus’ hands that small offering became enough to feed five thousand people. What’s more, they didn’t just have a crumb each, but ate until they were satisfied.  Amazingly, even after feeding five thousand people, there was enough left over to fill twelve baskets. Jesus simply gave thanks to God for his provision and instructed his disciples to distribute the food to the crowd.

Jesus shows us that no matter how great the need, if we offer what we have to God and invite him to use it for his glory, then there are no limits to what our paltry gifts can achieve. Jesus fed five thousand people with just five loaves of bread and two fish. That’s a meal for maybe a couple of people that fed a whole crowd. Think of all that we have been given and the impact that just a small portion of this could have if we asked God to bless what we have and offered it to him for his work. Just as something as insignificant as that first interaction we have at the beginning of the day can have a huge impact on us, and through us the world, just a small offering can have a massive effect on the world.

Today we’re thinking about the charity Compassion. This wonderful organisation are a testament to what just a little can do. It costs just £21 a month to sponsor a child through Compassion. That’s the price of a Sky TV subscription, or seven coffees from Starbucks. £21 is £16 less than the average UK mobile phone bill. In Britain today, £21 is not much more than the five loaves and two fish that the disciples managed to muster in today’s passage.

In the hands of Compassion, that £21 can change the life of a child in the developing world. Just as Jesus was concerned to meet the spiritual and physical needs of the crowd that followed him, child sponsorship helps to meet the spiritual and physical needs of a needy child. A sponsored child is supported, educated, fed, introduced to the gospel and prepared for adult life in a way that would otherwise be impossible. That young person, by virtue of their sponsorship, will influence others and potentially will alter the lives of their family and friends, their neighbours, and possibly their whole town or even their country. That’s an awful lot of impact for just £21 a month.

So often we pray to God and ask for him to change the world, yet more often than not we are the answer to our own prayers. We must strive to avoid the pessimism of the disciples, look at what we have got, and use that to bring about the change we pray for. We might feel that what we have is inadequate to have any impact on the world, but in today’s reading it is clear that that is not the attitude to have. We should strive instead to emulate Christ and embrace his attitude, using what we have to bring about change.

If you’re already sponsoring a child, well done. If you’re not, however, why not take the opportunity to do so today. You’d be amazed at the impact that £21 can have!

In conclusion, think back to that first interaction of the day. If someone shows you compassion, you are set up right for the day ahead. If you’re treated with indifference, it can wrong foot you for the rest of the day.

Compassion works with people, not at the beginning of their day, but at the beginning of their lives. If we embrace the attitude of Christ, accepting that the needy of the world are our concern, if we offer what we have to God through Compassion, these children will be set up right for the rest of their lives. The impact you can have on a child’s life is immeasurable, and can have an impact much more significant than you could even contemplate.

If we offer even a small amount to further the work of Christ’s work here on earth, he can transform it into something remarkable.

So let’s reflect today and in the week ahead on our attitude towards the needy of the world. Do we have a heart for the poor, as Christ has a heart for the hungry in today’s passage? Or, like the disciples, do we think of the needy as not our problem?

As the disciples offered up what little they had to Christ, do we offer up what we have, or do we hold back thinking that what we have is inadequate and unable to make a real difference?

Header image produced by DALL-E 2 AI on 30 April 2023.

Who do you say I am?

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Who do you say I am?

When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” “But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?” Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

Matthew 16:13-16

In a couple of weeks time I start a new job teaching History and RE in a prep school. I’ll be teaching children in years 6, 7 and 8. Whilst I have enjoyed teaching these year groups before, it’s always been in the context of a secondary school, where I have taught pupils of these ages as part of a more balanced diet that has included GCSE, A Level and International Baccalaureate students. What has always set these younger students apart for me in the past is their tendency to ask questions, pretty much non-stop. Questions have ranged from the highly admirable, such as, “but surely Harold Godwinson should have left some of his troops in the south?” to the practical, “how much detail should I put in my answer?” to the just downright infuriating, “should I start a new page, Sir?”

One of the joys of teaching pupils at this age is spending all day answering the many questions that are thrown at me. I do find, though, that answering questions all day does take its toll. By the time the evening comes and my friends ask me even the simplest questions, my answers tend to come out as grunts.

In today’s verses, Jesus asks his disciples probably the most important question that they will ever answer: who do you say I am?

By this point the disciples had witnessed Jesus do plenty of amazing miracles and heard him teach and preach. They had spent time with him and would have begun to form a view on who this man was. Was he a teacher or a prophet? Was he a good man or a deluded fool? Was he nuts? Or was he the Son of God?

Many of the people in the area had come to the conclusion that Jesus was a prophet, but Simon Peter went considerably further in his view; Jesus was the messiah, the son of the living God. At this point he hadn’t fully grasped the implications of that statement, but he nevertheless recognised that Jesus was not simply a prophet, but the person who had been the focus of prophecy for generations.

The question that Jesus asks his disciples in this passage, “who do you say I am?”, is not just the most important question the disciples ever had to answer, but is probably the most important question in the world. Most of us have an opinion on that question, even if we might not have given it a great deal of thought. The people who do not follow Christ have decided that, whatever Jesus was, he was not the son of the living God. Christians have usually decided that the answer to that question is much the same as Peter gave.

Having answered the question, though, we need to consider whether we’re in a similar position to Peter in today’s verse; we know who Jesus is, but we have yet to grasp the full implications of our answer, and don’t allow our understanding of Jesus’ identity to shape our lives. Others may have fully grasped those implications, and strive to follow Jesus closer and closer day by day.

Why not reflect on that simple question today and over the weekend: who do you say Jesus is? How does your answer to that question impact on your life?

Use your gifts!

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Use your gifts!

We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your faith; if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach; if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead, do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.

Romans 12:6-8

What are your gifts? Are you a good rugby player or a concert pianist? Are you a born leader or a superb administrator? Are your people skills second to none or are you a technological whizz kid? Perhaps you’re a talented interior designer or a competent accountant.

Maybe you haven’t discovered what your particular skills or areas of expertise are yet. Don’t worry if this is you; there are plenty of us still waiting to discover what our God-given talents are!

In today’s verses, Paul is in no doubt that our skills and talents are gifts from God. He is also in no doubt that, whatever skills we have been given, we must use them. Just as you would be disappointed if you gave a friend a marvellous gift as a birthday present, only for him to put it unused into a box in the garage, God is disappointed if we don’t use the gifts that he has given us. Of course, if we love God, we should be putting those gifts actively into his service.

It’s very easy, particularly in a large Church, to sit back and be a passive consumer of what goes on around us, to turn up, listen to the sermon, sing the songs, and then go home without making any contribution to the life of the Church. We have to question whether this is the right approach, however.

In the previous verses in this letter, which we looked at yesterday, Paul portrayed the Church as a body of many parts, with individuals making up those parts. To function at its best, a body needs all its parts; two arms, two legs, a head, and so on. A Church is just the same; to function at its best, it needs all of its parts; welcomers at the door, someone to make the coffee, people to work with the children, preachers, musicians, people to lead outreach and many more. It might be that you have a particular skill that is desperately needed by your Church, and the leadership team are praying for you to come forward. You could be an answer to prayer. From the pew you might not even be aware of the need. If you’re a mean lead guitarist and your Church already has one, you might think there’s no need for you to come forward. But it may be that the current guitarist feels overstretched, has issues at work, needs to spend more time with his family and is hoping for someone to share the burden with.

Let’s thank God today for our gifts, and resolve to use them, whatever they may be, for his glory. If we’re not really sure what gifts we have to offer, let’s pray that we might discover what our particular skills are. And let’s encourage those around us, praise their gifts, and help them to utilise these for the good of the kingdom!

We form one body

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We form one body

For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others.

Romans 12:4-5

Last summer I visited Los Angeles.  Whilst I was there I saw what I thought was a rather incredible artwork in Pershing Square.  From a distance, the piece clearly showed the face of Michael Jackson.  The tag next to the work stated that it was called ‘King of Pop’.  Closer inspection of the artwork revealed that it was made up of hundreds of fizzy drinks tins, or cans of soda pop as the Americans might refer to them.  I was staggered; there was no denying that this was clearly Michael Jackson’s face, yet it was a mosaic of old tin cans.  Truly remarkable.

Perhaps this kind of mosaic is another way at looking at today’s verses from Paul’s letter to the Romans.  Each of the cans in the picture had their own individual identity, be it as a Sprite, Coke or Tango can, yet together they take on another distinct appearance, the face of Michael Jackson.  A Coke can may have merit in its own right – it is, after all, a world famous design classic – but there is no denying that when it comes together with the other 1,679 cans that make up the ‘King of Pop‘ it becomes something far greater.

Within the church there are many thousands of people, each with our own unique identity, but together we take on another identity – the body of Christ on earth.  We all have our own individual merits, but it’s when we come together as the Church that we have the potential to become something far greater than we could ever become as an individual.  If we find our identity in Christ rather than in ourselves, we have the potential to change the world by serving God in partnership with millions of others.  Within that, we each have our own unique part to play.  More on that tomorrow, however!

Reflect today on whether you play your part in the bigger picture of the worldwide Church, the body of Christ.  Do you find your identity in Christ, as part of something bigger than just yourself?  Or do you identity solely as yourself, an individual?  Perhaps it’s time we all made more effort to come together as the worldwide Church!