Wednesday 12 March 2014

WISDOM AND FORGIVENESS

This is something I wrote quite a while ago, February 2007, clearly during Lent, and with the same readings we had for our Main office today: Jonah 3, and Luke 11:29-32.
I'm not sure I agree with myself, albeit a 27 year old version, but the sentiment is clear.


Luke 11:29-32


The Ninevites & Jonah: The Queen of Sheba & Solomon

Here Jesus holds up as examples, Jonah and Solomon.

One represents repentance, the other wisdom.

Jonah is understood to our modern ears almost exclusively as the reluctant prophet swallowed by a ‘whale’. Through rose-tinted glasses we wistfully recall Sunday School lesson that latched onto this most peculiar of stories to convince us that God is exciting, that God isn’t boring, but cool and…wait for it…funny!

Sadly this pre-occupation with the first chapter of Jonah fails to give credence to the sweep of the story, which moves through reluctance-disobedience-realisation-repentance-acceptance-frustration.

The fish is used by God to discipline Jonah.

However, Jesus uses Jonah to demonstrate to his hearers the need to not look for excitement and miracles. The crowd is swelling and crushing in on Jesus, for what purpose? To see this miracle-worker. Jonah is already miraculous enough, he's already a sign for them.

Jesus sensing their voyeurism speaks out, pointing them to true wisdom: the need for humility and repentance.

Indeed, so obvious is this truth that Jonah will speak out against that generation of listeners waiting for the next miracle, clamouring around Jesus.

And Jonah will speak out against us too. When we clamour for God to reveal himself, to prove himself - Jonah is a voice against us too.

Where is wisdom to be sought? Is it in the charismatic worship services full of praise and passion?

NO.

Wisdom is found on our knees before our creator, humbling lifting our hands in petition for our sins, clothed in sackcloth and ash. We are not to seek miracles (although they are God’s handiwork), we are not to seek signs and wonders (although they point to God’s majesty).

Until, as one, we cry out to God for ourselves, our families, our churches, our nation, our world; until then we will not know true wisdom.

It isn’t just Jonah who’ll testify against us, but The Queen of Sheba too.

She sought wisdom and was led to God’s anointed king.

We like her must seek God’s anointed king, Jesus. In him alone is their wisdom and truth to prepare us for the world, and only He can bring us to repentance.

And yet, here’s the remarkable thing; He is greater by far than both these heroes.

Jesus isn’t only the one who will bring us to repentance; He is the source of our repentance and forgiveness. He isn’t merely a mouthpiece communicating God’s forgiveness; He IS forgiveness. His blood cleanses us.

Jesus isn’t a wise man, He isn’t full of wisdom; he IS wisdom.

To seek Jesus is hunger for wisdom and forgiveness.

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As I said above, I'm not sure I agree anymore that Wisdom (i.e. Jesus) can't be found in worship (of whatever style). But I do think we should be wary of coming to worship, particularly the more dramatic styles, with the desire for signs and wonders as an end in themselves. We come to worship in order to hear God speak, to encounter the Living Christ, through Word and Sacrament, Prayer and Song.

Monday 10 March 2014

Lenten Loving - Sermon

This is the text from my sermon preached at Pudsey Parish church last night, 9 March 2014, for the 1st Sunday of Lent. The texts were Deuteronomy 6:4-9,16-25 and Luke 15:1-10. Inevitably, my actual preach included stuff not here, and certainly didn't include everything present, but here it is.

Picture the scene, it’s late on a Thursday night, and I’m calling in at Pudsey Asda for a few bits, including a card for Jen, my wife. I travelate downstairs and discover the card aisle full of men, jostling for position to find a last minute card. The date, the 13th February. What were we all doing there: desperately trying to find a last minute Valentine’s card.

Now I must confess to being habitually inept at birthdays, anniversaries and Valentine’s day. But I was peculiarly struck at the scene. Here we all were, apparently forgetful and (dare-I-say-it) unromantic souls, worried about upsetting our significant other by failing to provide a token of our love on the most romantic day of the year. Woe betide any man who fails to produce the goods. I chatted with another chap in the same boat. We complained that we had been duped by the media and card manufacturers, but also our partners. After all, we’d often been told: let’s not worry about Valentine Cards this year, which of course is a trap. You should always buy a card!!
For many, Valentine’s Day is not spontaneous: it’s a requirement, a law – you shall love your partner. And something in us resents being told what to do, especially being told to love someone. After all, you can’t force some to love – can you?

As Christians, we read in Deuteronomy, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.” (Deut 6:5)
Lent is often a time when we berate ourselves for our lack of heart, soul and strength. We commit to trying harder, to digging deep. Whether sacrificing a vice, or taking up charitable behaviour, we earnestly commit ourselves to following this ‘greatest commandment’ to love God. As Eugene Merrill suggests, it as a call to love with all our “essence and expression.”

But it is our experience that we are incapable of living up to this standard. The Apostle Paul writes the law “instead of giving life, brought condemnation; instead of producing holiness, it stimulated sin” (Rom. 7:10).
Our struggle with sin, with keeping our Lenten fasts, is entirely bound up in forgetting that “everything is predicated on Yahweh’s love and faithfulness” (p.57 Fee & Stuart 2002). We think it starts with us: that we have to muster some loving devotion from nothing, that we should simply ‘try harder’, when in reality we are simply asked to respond to God’s love. Saint John understood this better than most:

This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins” (1 John 4:10)

We love because he first loved us” (1 John 4:19)

If Lent’s focus is the cross of Christ, then it is a focus on the love of God, for the cross is God’s great banner of love.
And before we think this idea of God loving us is a New Testament innovation, hear these words from Deuteronomy: “The Lord did not set his affection on you and choose you because you were more numerous than other peoples, for you were the fewest of all peoples. But it was because the Lord loved you” (Deut. 7:7-8). The Old Testament goes on to speak of this love in human terms: as the love of a husband and wife, as the love of a father and son.

Thus, our response to the command to ‘love the LORD your God’ is one of “gratitude and devotion”.

Which rather begs the question – what makes us hold back from loving God 100%?

Our reading from Deuteronomy 6 presents three practices that might help us avoid a cooling in our relationship with God.

Firstly, a call to RECITE GOD’S WORD
Verses 6-9 are preoccupied with preserving and passing on the truth of God. Loving God is a matter of teaching and encouraging others and ourselves, in order to maintain devotion: a devotion that should permeate all areas of our life.

Verse 6 asks that God’s word be “upon your hearts”. Hebrew thought considered the heart to be the seat of thinking and meditation. I know it’s a well-worn refrain but how well are we doing at keeping God’s instruction on our minds? Eugene Merrill talks about reflection: how much do you reflect on what you’ve learnt about God? Paul recently referred to ‘reflective practice’ in nursing, and how Christians are generally quite good at thinking about how we’re doing, but how often do we reflect on what we’ve learnt about God?

We’re then told to “Impress them” – the commandments that is. The word is associated with the work of an engraver – how the words are made permanent. Are God’s words engraved on our hearts?
This work of engraving should include our children. We are blessed to have a cracking Youth Worker, a wide team of volunteers, developing relationships with local schools, and the Church of England expends vast amounts of money and energy on their schools.

But we must be wary of using these ministries as an escape from the responsibility to teach.
Elijah [my 3 year old] has just joined the toddler group and I’m keenly aware that I do not want him to only learn about Jesus there. It is a shame to think we and our children should study on only one day of the week. “Eternal truths are most effectively learned in the loving environment of a God-fearing home.”

It’s worth noting that an engraver has to chisel stone over and over for real success. So it is with faith, we are asked to talk about God day and night, when active (walking) and inactive (sitting), all throughout our life. There is the encouragement to surround ourselves with reminders, symbols of our faith on our bodies, but also in our homes and towns. When we love someone it should be a central and absorbing interest. The book of Deuteronomy is not primarily concerned issues of church politics and rules for liturgy, but “it sees faith and obedience to God as much a matter for the home as for the sanctuary. In sum it ‘domesticates’ the spiritual life.”
Are we actively engraving God’s word into our lives and the lives of our children? And is this being done everywhere?

 
Secondly, a call to RESIST DISOBEDIENCE, verses 16-19.
We read here of Massah – the place of testing – as recorded in Exodus 17. The Israelites are wandering in the wilderness and have begun to question whether God was really with them. The demand for water wasn’t so much about physical nourishment, as spiritual curiosity, but it showed their doubt in God’s promises. They called into question God’s faithfulness.

We too, in many and various ways, do the same. We complain to God and question His methods, motives and presence.
These calls for God to ‘prove himself’ showed a lack of understanding in God’s nature and character.

The opening verses of this passage are called the ‘Shema’ by Jews. But there is much debate about how the phrase in verse 4 should be translated:
“The LORD our God, the LORD is one”, or

“The LORD our God is one Lord”, or
“The LORD is our God, the LORD alone”

It is safe to say that the two aspects of God’s nature that are being revealed are his oneness and his uniqueness: Oneness in that he alone is the energy behind creation and history; Uniqueness in that there is no other. Or as one commentator says: Yahweh our God is the unique!
Having a clear sense of who God is makes the call to diligent obedience easier. Obedience does not come from “barren legalism based on necessity and duty. It [arises] from a relationship of love.” Obedience is critical, for imposing conditions and making petty demands of God is contrary to faith.

 
Thirdly, a call to REMEMBER YOUR STORY, verses 20-23

And so once more, we are asked to consider children, for they are “bound to enquire sooner or later why it is that their parents live a certain kind of life in contrast with the life of those about them”.
Well…. would they? Do they? This is a potentially embarrassing issue: does our behaviour at home undermine the words we say and sing in church? And not just for our children, but our wider family, our neighbours?

Here in Deuteronomy, the call is to retell the Exodus story; the moment when the unique bond between God and people was established.
When was that moment for you? What is your story of faith? When did you first encounter the love of God?

For many here tonight, this love was revealed to us when Jesus Christ came and found us while we were lost. Despite our sinfulness he reached into our lives and called us to him.
This is why the parables of the lost sheep and lost coin resonate so deeply.

Have you noticed, by the way, that the parable of the sheep has two moments of joy?
The first joyful moment is when the Shepherd puts the wayward creature on his shoulders. This is the moment of FINDING, but the second joyful moment happens once he is home, surrounded by his friends and family. Now maybe I’m reading too much into this, but it seems to me that if I lost a sheep and found it, despite initial joy, it would quickly give way to grumbling and complaining as I hoisted the beast back. I wouldn’t want a party but a bath!

I wonder whether we fail to recognise the carrying that Jesus implies he will do, and the joy that will accompany our arrival in heaven; surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses? We are saved, yes – but so much more, we are called to live with Jesus.
Corporately, our great act of remembrance is Communion, where we recount God’s past mercies and declare a fresh the covenant demands. This is another moment to explain to children and young people what we’re doing: why do we eat bread and drink wine? Perhaps this Lent will be a time to reflect on communion – what does it mean to you?

But most importantly, I would like to encourage you to remember your story.
People understand a story, not just children. Most of us have developed quirky, interesting, but often brief stories about how we met our significant other or closest friends. But many struggle to speak of coming to faith in similar terms.

So let me ask you, ‘how did you fall in love with Jesus?’
If you haven’t thought on this question much recently, take some time to reminisce. When we forget to stay thankful for God’s salvation we can quickly lose a sense of our history and meaning. And much like the parables, we are invited to remember with joy that moment of being found. This is the key in our story – it is this love and joy we find in Jesus the world should see.

 
In conclusion, these three principles are a general call to RIGHTEOUS LIVING, verses 24-25
The passage draws the themes together with a refrain to obey and fear God. It concludes with the words, “if we are careful to obey all this law before the Lord our God, as he has commanded us, that will be our righteousness.”

The word translated as ‘righteousness’ is complex. When used as here it describes being in right relationship with someone, that a person has been delivered or justified.
But the word could also refer to a way of behaving, rather than an outcome. This sense of being made right, or living-right is summed up perfectly in the Message translation:

“It will be a set-right and put-together life for us if we make sure that we do this entire commandment in the Presence of God, our God, just as he commanded us to do.”

 LENT
Concluding, there are different approaches to Lent.

I would encourage you to consider this season as an opportunity to re-learn how to love God. Yes, this is a love that is commanded, but only in response. Ronald Clements describes this love as “a consistent concern to point to the loving, compassionate and life-affirming nature of God, which demands that those who worship should do so with a warmth and joy that recognises a loving Father-God who is always more generous in giving than in receiving.”
Coming back to Valentine’s day, it’s certainly possible that the expectation of a card can lead to dry duty, but for me, I need Valentine’s Day and the card-buying process to remind me of vows I took, to remember all that we’ve been through, to show Jen I love her, and strangely, of course, the effect is not to create resentment, but it opens us up to more love.

The same is true with God. Over time our awareness of God grows, and, with knowledge, should “develop into a deepening love.” You may have been lost and found many years ago but God is always calling us deeper in.
Loving God is a matter for our entire lives, our entire selves. God’s call to love Him is nothing but a call to “the deepest and truest fulfilment of human life.”

May we respond to this call.

Wednesday 5 March 2014

Moths and Ashes

So today is Ash Wednesday.

For the uninitiated this is the first day of Lent. It's an amusing scene in our house the few days before Lent starts. We often opt to give things up in Lent, which is an increasingly popular aspect of the season, even for non-Christians. As usual, we've decided to quit chocolate. To compensate we've not stopped eating it for the last week; Cadbury Creme Eggs mostly...but anything we can get our hands on. I've become especially partial to Malteser Bunnies. Not for another 40 days though...

Despite this, I have been growing increasingly worried that a chocolate fast rather misses the point. Why, after all, do we give anything up? And what good will it do?

One of the perks of my job is a degree of flexibility about working hours. As a result, I have visited Ilkley this morning, firstly for a coffee with a friend, but secondly to attend St Margaret's Communion Service with the imposition of ashes. This is a sombre service during which all present have a cross marked on their foreheads with ashes. The ashes are made by burning up the palm crosses from last year's Easter season.

The sermon was given by my friend, Chris Phillips. He too asked that we should all question our motives during Lent. And this was challenging, not least because his words uncovered some dangerous thinking I'd succumbed to about ashing.

You see, I'd always imagined that (a little like Good Friday walks of witness) by getting ash on my forehead it would be a natural conversation starter beyond the walls of the church. People might laugh or mistakenly advise me to wash better, but I would then be able to speak of my faith.

On the contrary, one Bible reading during the service stated clearly:
"Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them" (Matthew 6:1)


It was pointed out that wandering around with ashes on my head, might, in fact, be a sign of religious pride. I might genuinely end up speaking of God, but how might my ego, my pride me stroked and inflated.

Ashes serve two purposes: they are a sign of penance, and a symbol of our mortality. Talk of signs and symbols is, of course, to speak of sacraments. But imposition of ashes is not a sacrament, but it is (as Chris pointed out) 'sacramental'. I may be doing something with commonplace objects (ashes) but the act speaks of a deeper reality, and by taking part I am reminded. As the ashes were imposed on my forehead, these words were spoken to me:

"Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.
Turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ"

By submitting to this rite, we are reminded that we have sinned, that we have not been faithful to Christ. Admittedly we do this every time we say the words of the confession, so why is this any different? It is because we simultaneously reminded that we will die.

It is incredibly unfashionable to speak of death.

But Lent is a season that is about death: the death of Jesus, but also our own death.

And this was made all the more poignant during the service when one of the congregation, a beautiful old lady called Joyce, who was too infirm to walk and kneel at the altar rail, was administered to where she sat. Seeing a (relatively) youthful priest gently, but firmly impose the ashes on this elderly lady, while saying those words, nearly brought me to tears. How must it have felt, for Joyce, who is plainly closer to death than most, be reminded of her mortality, but also her sinfulness?!

How does it make you feel to be reminded that you are sinful and you will die?

Meanwhile, during the sermon, I noticed a butterfly, or perhaps it was a moth, fluttering about, over the gathered assembly. Amusingly, the Matthew reading had just referred to moths:
"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume...but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth nor rust consumes...For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Matt 6:19-21)

As I studied the delicate butterfly/moth I smiled.

They are so fragile, but beautiful. They are so transitory too - their lives are brief.

And how much like them am I?

Our morning prayers contained these words from 1 Timothy: "We brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it" (1 Tim 6:6)

Our lives are so brief, so transitory.

But they can be things of beauty. The prayer of confession has us repent for 'marring your image in us'. When we sin, we somehow damage the person God designed and longs for us to be. We do this in so many small ways, without noticing. We fail to love God as we should and so our very image is damaged. We are caught up in the business of storing up treasure that will be eaten by moths!

And so much of our straining, labouring, toiling is about a false image we want to maintain, to try and keep people in the dark about who we really are.

Which rather brings me back to ashes.

I wanted people to see me with my little mucky cross on my head, not in order to evangelise, but in order to persuade people that I am better than I really am. I want to give up chocolate so that people will think I'm a better person than I am. It's all about posturing and pretending.

The reality of ashes was lost to me: I am grateful to have been reminded of my true nature.