I’m sure that anyone who’s read the Gospels will have noticed that the fourth Gospel, St John’s Gospel, is quite different to the other three. The Gospels of Ss Matthew, Mark and Luke are known as the Synoptic Gospels because they tell much the same stories and, taken together, they form a synopsis, a general summary of the life and earthly ministry of Jesus. St John’s Gospel though, stands apart from that because it tells many different stories and is much more theological in its portrayal of Jesus. There’s no uncertainty about who Jesus is in John’s Gospel, as there often is in the other Gospels. It begins by clearly stating that Jesus is the incarnate Word of God and ends by saying that the Gospel has been written so that the reader may believe in him.  

One of the great differences between St John’s Gospel and the others is that St John doesn’t give an account of the Last Supper. There’s a scene in the Upper Room at supper where Jesus washes his disciples feet but rather than an account of the meal itself there’s a long speech by Jesus that we know as The Farewell Discourse, the final teaching that Jesus gave his disciples. But what we do have in John’s Gospel is the teaching that we’re reading in our Sunday Gospels at the moment, Jesus’ teaching that his body and blood are given for the life of the world and that we must eat his body and drink his blood if we wish to have life. So, while St John gives us no account of the Last Supper itself, no account of the institution of the Eucharist, what he does give us is this very explicit explanation of the meaning of the that meal and of the Eucharist.  

Later in John’s Gospel, in The Farewell Discourse, Jesus tells us that his Church should be one, and we see the Eucharist as a symbol of that unity because through sharing bread and wine at the Eucharist, we unite our lives to his, and he unites his life to ours. We become one with him as he is one with the Father and in him we become one with each other. That’s why the well-known hymn O Thou, who at thy Eucharist didst pray speaks of the Eucharist as ‘…this blessed sacrament of unity.’ But we know that, in spite of Jesus’ prayer for unity and in spite of the fact that Christians throughout the world share in the Eucharist, the Church is not one, it’s divided and Christians throughout the world seem to spend as much time arguing and falling out with each other as they do in being about the business of being disciples of Christ. And this morning’s Gospel tells us, in passing, why that is.  

At the beginning of this morning’s Gospel we read this: 

‘…the Jews grumbled about him, because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” They said, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How does he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” 

The bone of contention between ‘the Jews’ and Jesus here was his statement that he’d come down from heaven and that’s understandable. I’m sure if we met someone who told us that, we’d be reluctant to accept it too. But the real problem seems to have been not what Jesus said but who he was. These people knew Jesus; they knew his family. And their objection to what he said wasn’t put in terms of ‘How can anyone make such a claim?’ but rather in terms of ‘He’s just a carpenter’s son. Who does he think he is?’  

And this is the root cause of our disunity; the way we treat other people because of who and what they are, or simply who and what we think they are. The lack of respect we show for them and what they say because of who and what they are, or we think they are. Our intolerance of others because they don’t think like we do. Our dismissive attitude towards others because, if they don’t think and act like we do, they must be wrong.  

And how often do we come across situations like that in the Church? How often do we treat other people in the Church like that? Very often we treat newcomers to the Church in that way. I’m sure we’ve all seen it and heard it, and perhaps even been guilty of doing it. Someone new comes to our church, they point out something that’s not right, perhaps the way some people are behaving, and the response is a very indignant, ‘Who do they think they are? I’ve been coming to this church all my life; they’ve only been coming here for five minutes. What right have they got to tell us what to do? ‘ And so what that person says is ignored. But what they’ve said might very well be true. Just because they’ve only been coming to our church for ‘five minutes’ is neither here nor there. They may have been going to another church for just as long or perhaps even longer than we’ve been going to our church. And even if they are new to the Church, that’s no reason to dismiss what they say. One of the great things about people who are new to anything is that, because it is so new to them, they’re full of enthusiasm, they want to see things done in the right way. Because they’re new to it, they haven’t become jaded in any way by long exposure to problems and difficulties, and that means bitter experience hasn’t tempered their ideals.  

Another group of people who’re often treated in that way are younger people and children. Our problem with what they might try to tell us is usually put in terms of ‘What do they know? They’re just kids.’ But even ‘kids’ can teach us a thing or two because they tend to look at things in a very idealistic way – this is what Jesus said so this is the way it should be and if we’re not doing it that way, we’re doing it wrong.   

But we can also dismiss people and what they say because of their background. If we think someone has a bit of a shady past or has perhaps come from ‘a bad family’ we might not even want them in the Church. That’s the ‘We don’t want their sort here’ scenario. But that doesn’t allow for people’s willingness and ability to change, to put the past behind them and be different and better in the future. And what that kind of attitude most certainly does do is stop us from following Christ’s example of seeking out and saving the lost. But, as Christians, isn’t that exactly what we’re called to do?  

Parish priests can suffer because of these kinds of attitudes too. Every parish priest I know, and ever have known, can tell stories of moving to a new parish and having to endure tales of how much more wonderful the last parish priest was than they are. Problems of trying to change anything because ‘Fr so and so never did this’ and then being told just what Fr so and so did do and that they should do the same. In most cases that’s as far as it goes, and most priests have broad enough shoulders and thick enough skin to cope with that. But there is always a small minority of people who are deeply resentful of the new parish priest and go out of their way to be awkward and obstructive, and at times deeply offensive towards them. They won’t even give the new priest a chance and for no other reason than they aren’t the last priest. But what this attitude shows an unwillingness to accept that we all have unique talents and just as the last priest had theirs, so the new one will have theirs, and they will have knowledge and skills that the last one didn’t. And just because the last priest did things a certain way, that doesn’t mean to say it was the best or only way to do them. Just because the last priest didn’t do something doesn’t mean that it shouldn’t be done, perhaps they should have been doing it.  

These are problems that affect parishes and parish churches but the problems that affect the wider Church are simply these problem writ large; an unwillingness to accept that others may have a valid point of view, an inability to see that our way is not the only way, that others are not wrong simply because they don’t think and act the way we do. Perhaps above all, an uncharitable attitude towards others based on nothing more than who and what they are. 

During my sabbatical I was studying mission and evangelism, especially in early medieval England, how the Church manged to convert the pagan Anglo Saxons to Christianity in a relatively short time span. One of the things that helped them do this was that Christianity was a centralised faith with clearly defined core beliefs that all Christians held to, wherever they were in the world. Paganism, on the other hand, was emotive and localised, it was about what the people in a particular place believed and their ways of doing things. For the Anglo Saxons, being part of that all-embracing faith and part of the Church meant greater cooperation with their neighbours and that led to greater security in a violent world. But, as we look at the Church today, even our own Anglican Church, don’t we see something more resembling medieval paganism than medieval Christianity? The Church splintering into self-interested groups who care more about their own ideas than the core teachings of the faith? And don’t we see Anglican parish churches acting more like independent local congregations than as part of an all-embracing, universal, Catholic Church which proclaims one Catholic faith in all places? Parish churches which act like local churches for local people who neither care what other churches are doing nor want outsiders joining their congregations.  

The greatest asset the Church has is its people because we all have unique gifts to bring to the Church. We all also have a unique story to tell because our faith journeys are all unique. Each and everyone of us has faced unique challenges in life and our own unique way of living out our faith through those challenges. So we all have something to contribute to the Church and to give to each other. But we all have to be willing to give everyone the chance to tell their story, to offer what they have, by being prepared to listen to what everyone has to say, no matter who and what they are. So let’s listen to what others have to tell us. To newcomers to the Church and to our church. To children and young people. To new priests as well as old. To other denominations of the Church and to other parish churches and congregations. That is the way to become more united as a Church and that is the way to become more united with Christ because that is the way he said it should be among his disciples.  

Amen.        

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Propers for the 19th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Trinity 11), 11th August 2024

Entrance Antiphon 
Lord, be true to your covenant,  
forget not the life of your poor ones forever. 
Rise up, O God, and defend your cause; 
do not ignore the shouts of your enemies.  

The Collect 
O God, you declare your almighty power 
most chiefly in showing mercy and pity: 
mercifully grant to us such a measure of your grace, 
that we, running the way of your commandments, 
may receive your gracious promises, 
and be made partakers of your heavenly treasure; 
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, 
who is alive and reigns with you, 
in the unity of the Holy Spirit, 
one God, now and for ever. 
Amen. 

The Readings 
Missal (St Mark’s)
1 Kings 19:4-8 
Psalm 34:2-9 
Ephesians 4:30-5:2 
John 6:41-51 

RCL (St Gabriel’s)
1 Kings 19:4-8 
Psalm 34:1-8 
Ephesians 4:25-5:2 
John 6:35, 41-51 

As many of you will know, one of my favourite TV programmes was, and still is, the 1990s sitcom, Father Ted. For me, one of the things that makes Father Ted so funny is that, like all good comedy it simply takes real life and exaggerates it’s silliness, the eccentricities of people and so on for comedic effect. And, as I’ve mentioned a number of times in the past, I have met people in and through the Church who are just like some of the characters in Father Ted.

One of the jokes that appears in Father Ted from time to time is that, when there’s some kind of crisis that demands action to resolve it, the clergy appear to be completely stumped about what to do and then suddenly, a flash of inspiration with show on someone’s face and they say,

“I know what to do! Let’s say Mass!”

Which everyone thinks is a brilliant idea and so that’s what they do – repeatedly.

What lies behind this storyline is the idea of Mass intentions, the practice of saying Mass for a particular need, whether that be a person or some kind of trouble. There’s nothing funny about that, in fact it’s something that we should be doing because the idea of a Mass or Eucharistic intention, is that the graces we receive through the Mass, through the Eucharist, are applied to resolving the particular problem stated in the intention. So, for example, if the intention was for someone who’s ill, the graces we receive through the Mass or Eucharist, might be applied in aiding their recovery. But in that case, the case of illness, I’m sure we’d also take some common-sense physical steps to aid their recovery too, like getting them to the doctor or the hospital. The joke in Father Ted is that the clergy in the programme have no common-sense, that they’re so impractical  and so stupid actually, that, even collectively, they can’t think of anything to do about a problem except say Mass about it, and say Mass about it again, and again and again.

But if the real-life practice of saying Mass for a particular need is what lies immediately behind this storyline, what it also shows is the real-life importance the Mass, the Eucharist, in the Church and to Christians. But, of all the things we do in Church and do as Christians, why should this be so important? As I’ve spoken about Mass intentions, perhaps the first thing we should talk about is grace.

We know that at the Mass, the Eucharist, we receive the sacrament of Holy Communion, and the definition of a sacrament is that it’s an outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible grace. We also know that although the Church recognises seven sacraments, there are only two dominical sacraments, two that were instituted specifically by Jesus;  Baptism and Holy Communion. So we know that these things are very powerful sources of grace. And the Mass, the Eucharist, in particular is such a powerful source of grace because through this liturgy we receive the forgiveness of sins, we meet the Lord in the words of scripture, and through our remembrance of the Lord’s Supper we share in that sacred meal that Jesus shared with his disciples on the night before his death. And through sharing in that, we receive the grace of the sacrament of Holy Communion. And if we think about these things in the context of this morning’s Gospel, we realise just what it is that we are receiving in the sacrament of Holy Communion and just how important this is to us.

In the Gospel, Jesus tells us that what we should be looking for and working for is the bread that endures to eternal life. He tells us that this is the bread he offers us and that, in fact, he himself is this bread, the bread of life. Later in this chapter of St John’s Gospel, Jesus goes on to say that this bread is nothing other than his flesh given for the life of the world. He tells us that unless we eat his flesh and drink his blood, we will have no life in us but if we do eat his flesh and drink his blood we will be raised to eternal life. More than that, he tells us that, if we eat his flesh and drink his blood he will live in us, and we will live in him. And where is that that we eat the flesh of Jesus and drink his blood but in the sacrament of Holy Communion given to us at the Mass, at the Eucharist. So when we come here to this service we unite ourselves and our lives with Jesus in the deepest way possible to us in this life because we come here to receive the life of Jesus. This is why the Mass, the Eucharist, is so important to the Church and to us as Christians. Having said that, I think some people don’t give this service, or the sacrament we receive in it either the honour, nor the attention they should, and that it’s due.

Early on in this morning’s Gospel Jesus tells the people that they’re looking for him for the wrong reason. Only the day before he said these words, Jesus had fed 5,000 people with five loaves and two fish, and they’re looking for him now, not because they recognise who he really is, in fact they don’t even understand what he’s done because they’re still asking him for a sign that they should believe in him. No, they’re looking for him simply because he’d provided them with a good nosh-up. And I think we could say something similar of some people in the Church.

How many people come to the Mass, the Eucharist, and really don’t treat it with the honour and respect it deserves? How many people, throughout the service, chatter to the people sat next to them rather than paying attention to what’s happening and being said in the service? And how many of those people then complain that they didn’t hear something? And have you also noticed that the people who talk throughout the service are the same people who are the first to complain about other people talking during the service? And these days, how many people sit through the service with their mobile phones in their hands. I know some say they’re using their phones to follow the readings, or even the sermon, but how many are playing games on them or reading and sending messages or browsing the internet during the service? I’ve seen people get up and start watering the flowers during the service. I’ve seen people start putting books out and sort the hymn boards out for later services during the service. I’ve seen people reading papers and magazines during the service. I’ve even seen people get up, go to the back of church and make themselves a brew during the service. Is this any way to treat this most holy of services? Is this showing proper respect for the most holy sacrament of Holy Communion? I can only assume that the people who do these kinds of things are like those who followed Jesus because he’d filled their bellies, they’re more concerned with physical things than spiritual things. Too concerned with everyday trivia to look for things of eternal value. So concerned with what’s going on in this world that they can’t put those things aside even for an hour so that they direct their minds to the life of the world to come and concentrate on uniting themselves to Jesus.

At the Roman Catholic Shrine in Walsingham there’s a small tea room and a shop selling religious items. At 12 noon each day there’s a Mass and shortly before Mass is due to start, people are asked, politely, to leave the tea room and the shop so that they can close for Mass, which they do. The tea room and shop don’t reopen until the Mass has ended. The point being made is that, when Mass is being celebrated, that’s where people’s attention should be. Not on guzzling tea or coffee or filling their bellies with food, no matter how nice that food might be. And not on buying things in a shop either, even if those things are of a religious nature. Their minds should be on the Mass and on coming into the presence of the Lord and uniting themselves with him in the sacrament of Holy Communion.

And that’s just as it should be. For faithful Christians, the Mass, the Eucharist, should be something that warrants our full attention. This is where we meet the Lord in word and sacrament. This is where we receive forgiveness of sins. And this is where we receive the life giving, living bread that is Jesus himself. It’s where we unite our lives to his and he unites his life to ours. Whatever is going on around us can wait; it’ll still be there when the service is over, and we can turn our thoughts to those things then. Even if we have a Mass or Eucharistic intention, our full focus should still be on what is going on here, in church during the service. We can apply more worldly remedies to a problem when we leave church but while we’re here, our full attention should be on what’s taking place here, on the graces we’re receiving through what’s taking place here, and on praying that those graces will be applied to that problem.

So let’s not be like those who followed Jesus because they’d filled their bellies with bread but follow him because he is the living bread that will bring us eternal life. Let’s come here believing in his assurance that in receiving his body and blood, we unite our lives to his and he unites his life to ours. And let’s give this service, the Mass, the Eucharist, and the sacrament of Holy Communion we receive during the service the honour it deserves by giving it our full attention.

Amen.

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Propers for the 18th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Trinity 10), 4th August 2024

Entrance Antiphon
God, come to my help.
Lord, quickly give me assistance.
You are the one who helps me and sets me free:
Lord, do not be long in coming.

The Collect
Let your merciful ears, O Lord,
be open to the prayers of your humble servants;
and that they may obtain their petitions
make them to ask such things as shall please you;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, now and for ever.
Amen.

The Readings
Missal (St Mark’s)
Exodus 16:2-4, 12-15        
Psalm 78:3-4, 23-25, 54
Ephesians 4:17, 20-24
John 6:24-35

RCL (St Gabriel’s)          
Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15
Psalm 78:23-29
Ephesians 4:1-16
John 6:24-35

Anyone who’s ever been to Walsingham on a weekend pilgrimage will know that one of, if not the highlight of the experience, is the candlelit procession round the Shrine grounds on Saturday night. And it is quite something to experience. The church is always packed with several hundred pilgrims for the service, and all of those who are able, join the procession as it wends its

way out of church, through the Shrine gardens, and then back into church again. And if you go to Walsingham at a time of year when it’s dark on Saturday night, the sight of hundreds of people processing round the gardens by candlelight is quite spectacular.

The procession is always accompanied by the singing of The Walsingham Pilgrim Hymn which, through its 38 verses, tells the story of Walsingham from the vision of the Blessed Virgin Mary granted to the Lady Richeldis de Faverches, in the 11^th Century, the building of the first Holy House, and its growth into one of the great places of pilgrimage in Medieval England, to its destruction under Henry VIII and eventual rebuilding in the early 20^th Century. These days we don’t often get through all 38 verses of the hymn because the procession does seem to have speeded up since low level lighting was installed in the Shrine grounds a few years ago. Before that, there was very little light for the procession, except the pilgrim’s candles. That made the procession more spectacular but, as in those days it was usual for a few pilgrim manuals (the Shrine’s service book) to go up in flames as people got them a little too close to their candles, and to find a fellow pilgrim you’d been walking beside had suddenly disappeared and, as you looked round to see where they were, to find them emerging from behind a tree or trying to extricate themselves from a bush that they’d walked into in the dark, it’s quite understandable why the lighting was put in. Nevertheless, we usually manage to sing a good deal of the hymn, and so we always sing about the building of the first Holy House, and the founding of the first Shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham. And in doing that we come across a few verses that tie in with our Gospel reading this morning. They go like this;

But though she (Lady Richeldis) had given both timbers and lands,
the power of the work lay in Mary’s own hands.
And this was made clear when the work was complete
by the answers to prayers that poured out at her feet.
And soon mighty wonders by grace were revealed.
for the sick who made use of the waters were healed.

One thing we always have to remember is that, even in Walsingham, we don’t pray to Mary. What we do is ask her intercession, in other words, we ask Mary to help our prayers to the Lord, by asking her to pray to the Lord with us and for us. So the prayers poured out at her feet are still prayers to the Lord. And, as the hymn says, the miracles that occur in answer to prayer are works of grace, and grace comes from the Lord. So although the hymn says that the power of the work lay in Mary’s hands, ultimately, the power of the place and what happens there lies in God’s hands. But although the hymn plays down the part that the Lady Richeldis played in all this, none of it would have happened without her gifts of timber and lands.

Immediately after the verses I’ve just quoted, the Walsingham Pilgrim Hymn goes on to say,

So Walsingham then came a place of great fame
and Our Lady herself was then called by this name.

But those things wouldn’t have happened without the cooperation of Richeldis. Without her gifts of timbers and lands, the Holy House wouldn’t have been built, the Shrine would never have existed, and very few people would ever have heard of Walsingham because the miracles associated with that place wouldn’t have happened there. And this tells us something very important about what we might call the practical side of faith. The Lord can and will and does do miraculous things. But if we want the Lord to do those things for us and through us then we have to meet him part of the way; we have to give him the means, the physical resources to work with and through. 

And this is exactly what we see in this morning’s Gospel.

The feeding of the five thousand is the only miracle of Jesus that’s recorded in all 4 Gospels and this morning, we heard St John’s account of it. St John tells us that, when he saw the crowds coming towards them, Jesus asked Philip,

“Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?”

And we’re told that this is a test, no doubt of what Philip and the disciples would say and do. But in the other Gospels, the test is put more bluntly. In those accounts, the disciples ask Jesus how all these people are going to be fed and Jesus says.

“You give them something to eat.”

All they’ve got is 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish which is nowhere near enough to feed so many people. But they give it to Jesus anyway and in his hands it becomes more than enough, far more than enough, in fact.

This miracle can be seen in different ways. It shows Jesus as he Good Shepherd who cares for his flock. It also shows Jesus as a new and greater Moses who not only leads God’s people in the wilderness, but feeds them too, just as the people of Israel were fed with manna from heaven when they were in the wilderness. It can also be seen as an allegory of the Eucharist because some of the language, Jesus looking up to heaven, blessing and breaking bread, we also find in the account of the Last Supper. But we can also look at this miracle as an example of practical faith. We can put it like this; there’s a problem that needs to be addressed, there’s no doubt Jesus can deal with it, and so we quite rightly bring the problem to him. But what are we going to do to help him? Are we prepared to provide Jesus with the physical means to deal with the problem? Because that is what makes the miraculous possible.

If we think about the miracles of Jesus, always people meet him part of the way. Those who are sick come to him in faith, but they push their way through crowds or are lowered through roofs to get to him. People who are considered ‘unclean’ and unfit to come to him and speak to him, do it anyway. People bring him water and he turns it into wine. And as we heard this morning, he’s given a pitiful amount of food, and in his hands it becomes enough to feed a multitude. And it has to be like that for us too. If we want Jesus to do miraculous things for us, we have to meet him part of the way. We might not think we’re worthy to ask, but we have to do it anyway. We might not think what we can offer is enough or good enough, but we have to offer it anyway. We have to give Jesus the physical means to do his work, and that means making ourselves and what we have available to him so that he can work through these things.

But do we always do this? Isn’t it true that when we’re faced with a problem our response is to either try to deal with it ourselves, if we think we can, and only take it to the Lord if we fail? And if we think we can’t deal with it, to simply leave the whole thing in the Lord’s hands? I’m sure many people think they don’t do these because they always pray about the problems they’re faced with. But how often do pray as a last resort, when we’ve tried and failed to resolve a problem?

And how often do nothing about a problem because we don’t think that we’re capable of dealing with it, that we don’t have the skills or the knowledge or the experience to deal with it? We may very well  pray about these things, but we simply leave them in the Lord’s hands because we don’t think that we have anything to offer in terms of a solution.

But that isn’t meeting Jesus part of the way, it’s leaving the whole thing in his hands and expecting, or perhaps simply hoping, that he’ll deal with it for us. But that isn’t what we see either in the Gospels, nor in scripture generally. What we see there are people who work with the Lord by offering him what they have, whatever that might be, and allowing him to work through them and with what they can offer, no matter how little they might think that is.

It’s sad but nonetheless true, that we have problems in life and in the Church. And it’s right that we should take these things to the Lord in prayer and ask his help in dealing with them. But we have to be prepared to cooperate with the Lord in solving these things. Walsingham came a place of great fame through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the grace of the Lord, but it wouldn’t have done without the cooperation of the Lady Richeldis. So like her,  we have to meet the Lord part of the way by providing the physical means for him to work with and through. Just as people in the Gospels pushed through crowds and were lowered through roofs to be healed by Jesus, so we have to make the effort to allow him to help us in our difficulties. Just as those who thought they were unworthy came to Jesus to seek his help anyway, so we have to give Jesus the chance to help us by coming to him as we are, no matter how lacking in ability or knowledge or experience we are, or think we are. No matter how little we think we have to offer, we have to offer it anyway because in his hands what we think isn’t enough can become more than enough.

To put it very simply, and in terms of the miraculous works of Jesus we read about in the Gospels, if we want the Lord to provide us with the finest wine, we have to at least give him the water. If we want the Lord to provide us with a feast, we at least have to give him a morsel to work with.

Amen.

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Propers for the 17th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Trinity 9) 28th July 2024

Entrance Antiphon
God is in his holy dwelling;
he will give a home to the lonely, he gives power and strength to his people.

The Collect
Almighty Lord and everlasting God,
we beseech you to direct,
sanctify and govern both our hearts and bodies,
in the ways of your laws and the works of your commandments;
that through your most mighty protection, both here and ever,
we may be preserved in body and soul;
through our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Amen.

The Readings
Missal (St Mark’s)  
2 Kings 4:42-44
Psalm 145:10-11, 15-18
Ephesians 4:1-6
John 6:1-15

RCL (St Gabriel’s)          
2 Kings 4:42-44
Psalm 145:10-19
Ephesians 3:14-21
John 6:1-21