Sermon for Palm Sunday Year B, 24th March 2024

Just over five weeks ago we began our journey through Lent and now, on Palm Sunday, we come to the final stretch of the journey as we enter the season of Passiontide and the start of Holy Week. As the name Passiontide suggests, this is the time of the Church’s year when our thoughts turn towards the climax of our journey through Lent, and indeed the climax of Jesus’ earthly life and ministry, the time that he himself often called his ‘hour’, the time of his Passion and Cross.

On the First Sunday of Lent, as always, we read in church the story of Jesus’ Temptation in the Wilderness. This year, being the year when we concentrate on the Gospel according to St Mark, we didn’t actually read what those temptations were but, as I said in my sermon that day, I’m sure we all know well enough what they were; the temptation for Jesus to satisfy his hunger by turning stones into bread, the temptation for Jesus to prove his identity by forcing God into a miraculous act on his behalf, saving Jesus from harm after he’d thrown himself from the top of the temple, and renouncing God by serving the devil in return for earthly power and glory. And we know that in each case, Jesus resisted the temptation and answered the tempter by quoting from scripture.

This morning, as always on Palm Sunday, we read the Passion Gospel, this year St Mark’s account of Jesus’ Passion and Cross. The Passion narratives in the Gospels can be read in different ways. Of course, they’re the story of the last hours of Jesus’ earthly life but each of the Gospels tell the story in a slightly different way. The differences are sometimes said to be the result of the stories being eyewitness accounts and those witnesses having seen, heard and remembering different things. That’s quite acceptable because we know from personal experience that people can and do remember the same event in slightly different ways. People see and hear different things and some parts of an event will have a deeper impact on one person than it will on another and will be more memorable to one person than to another. So people do remember things differently from one another. It’s also said that the Passion narratives are told in slightly different ways because the evangelists who wrote them wanted to highlight different parts of the story because these were of most immediate concern to the people they were writing for – they answered the questions uppermost in the minds of those people at the time. Another way of looking at the Passion narratives though is to read them as attempts to prove Jesus’ identity as the Messiah through the events of his Passion and Cross, and they do that by appeals to scripture.

All the Passion narratives are full of quotes from scripture and allusions to scripture, and in that sense we can look at them as complimentary to the stories of Jesus’ Temptation in the Wilderness. We can see these as narratives as the bookends of Lent, and we can see the Passion narratives as a reworking of the Temptation stories. In those Temptation stories Jesus resisted temptation and answered the tempter through the words of scripture and in the Passion narratives we see Jesus as someone who not only lived “by every word that that comes from the mouth of God” but who died by those words too.

In answer to the first temptation, Jesus quoted from the Book of Deuteronomy and said,

“‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

And in the Passion narratives we see Jesus as someone who does live and die by God’s word. We see it in his Agony in the Garden where, in spite of his own feelings he says to the Father,

“Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.”

And so, as he said he would, Jesus goes the way it is written of him, according to God’s Word. And as we read the Passion narratives in each of the Gospels we’re told repeatedly that what happens, and what Jesus himself says and does is all in order that the scriptures, or what was written, may be fulfilled. Even his cry,

“’My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’”

is taken from scripture; they’re the opening words of Psalm 22.

In Jesus’ second temptation, the tempter uses scripture, Psalm 91, to try and manipulate Jesus; he uses God’s word to tempt Jesus into disobeying God’s word. But Jesus’ answer to this was to use God’s word, again from Deuteronomy, to counter the temptation;

“‘You shall not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

And again in the Passion narratives we see Jesus refusing to put God to the test. When Jesus was arrested in Gethsemane and one of the disciples drew a sword and cut off an ear of the High Priest’s servant, Jesus said,

“Put your sword back into its place. For all who take the sword will perish by the sword.Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels?But how then should the Scriptures be fulfilled, that it must be so?” 

And on the Cross when one of the criminals called on Jesus as “the Christ” and urged him to save himself and him and the other criminal too, Jesus said and did nothing. So too, when the onlookers and chief priests and scribes said similar things, and also called on Jesus to save himself, he said and did nothing. Even when they said,

“He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he desires him. For he said, ‘I am the Son of God.’”

Jesus would not call on God to save him from the Cross; he wouldn’t put God to the test.

In his third and final temptation, Jesus resisted the lure of earthly power and glory with another reference to Deuteronomy, the commandment to serve God alone by saying,

“‘You shall worship the Lord your God and him only shall you serve.’” 

In this third temptation, Jesus had been tempted with ‘all the kingdoms of the world and their glory’. As the Messiah, knew that he would be a king and that his kingdom would have no end, that’s prophesied in scripture. But Jesus wasn’t interested in an earthly kingdom. He knew he was a king, he said so to Pilate but said that his kingdom is “not of this world.” He accepted the so-called repentant thief’s request to “remember me when you come into your kingdom.” So Jesus was a king and knew he was a king, and yet it wasn’t through any great act of earthly power that he showed himself to be a king, but through the way he lived and died according to God’s word. And we find that in the Passion narratives at the very moment of his death on the Cross when we read,

‘And when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said, “Truly this man was the Son of God!”’

The Son of God, the Messiah, the King of the Jews and because of his living and dying in accordance with the word of God, soon to be the Christ, our King, our Lord and our God and Saviour of the world.

Our journey through Lent is supposed to bring us a little closer to Christ. It’s supposed to help us be able to live our lives a little more like the way Jesus lived his life. So as we think about these bookends of the Lenten journey, let’s try to make our lives accord a little more with God’s word so that we can resist the tempter, in whatever way he shows himself to us, so that, at the end of our lives, we can join Jesus, our King, in paradise.

Amen. 


Propers for Palm Sunday, 24th March 2024

Antiphon
Hosanna to the Son of David, the King of Israel.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.
Hosanna in the highest.

Introduction
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, during Lent we have been preparing by works of love and self-sacrifice for the celebration of our Lord’s death and resurrection. Today we come together to begin this solemn celebration in union with the Church throughout the world. Christ enters his own city to complete his work as our Saviour, to suffer, to die, and to rise again. Let us go with him in faith and love, so that, united with him in his sufferings, we may share his risen life.

Blessing of the Palms
God our Saviour,
whose Son Jesus Christ entered Jerusalem as Messiah to suffer and to die;
let these palms be for us signs of his victory,
and grant that we who bear them in his name may ever hail him as our King,
and follow him in the way that leads to eternal life;
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Amen.

The Palm Gospel
Missal (St Mark’s)         Mark 11:1-10

RCL (St Gabriel’s)          Mark 11:1-11

The Collect
Almighty and everlasting God,
who in your tender love towards the human race,
sent your Son our Saviour Jesus Christ to take upon him our flesh,
and to suffer death upon the cross:
grant that we may follow the example of his patience and humility,
and also be made partakers of his resurrection;
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)        
Isaiah 50:4-7
Psalm 22:8-9, 17-20, 23-24
Philippians 2:6-11
Mark 14:1 – 15:47

RCL (St Gabriel’s)          
Isaiah 50:4-9
Psalm 31:9-16
Philippians 2:5-11
Mark 14:1 – 15:47

Sermon for Lent 4 (Mothering Sunday) 10th March 2024

Secular culture tells us that today is Mother’s Day. Mother’s Day is an American day of thanksgiving for mothers that dates back a little over 100 years, to the early years of the 20th Century.  The Church, on the other hand, says that today, the 4th Sunday of Lent, is Mothering Sunday and that is a Christian celebration of motherhood which dates back to at least 1,200 years to the 8th Century. So today, we in the Church, are not keeping Mother’s Day, but celebrating Mothering Sunday. So what’s the difference?

The origins of Mothering Sunday lie in the old lectionary texts for the day from Isaiah 66, Psalm 122 and Galatians 4. Those readings speak of Jerusalem as ‘mother’ and  of God comforting his people, “As a mother comforts her child…” In Medieval times it became a custom for people, inspired by the words of the psalm, “Let us go to the house of the Lord!” to go in procession to their ‘mother church’, which was usually the local cathedral. Later, in post-Reformation days in this country, the idea of ‘mother church’ was extended to include the parish church in which people had been baptised, and the much later custom of allowing domestic staff to have a day off on the 4th Sunday of Lent wasn’t so much so that they could visit their biological mothers, although they did that too, but to allow them to visit their mother church. And the practice of doing that became known as ‘mothering’, hence the name given to the day, Mothering Day, and eventually, Mothering Sunday. So whilst these days Mothering Sunday and Mother’s Day mean the same thing for many people, in origin and intent, they’re very different celebrations.

But today, in the Church as well as in secular culture, we think about mothers and give thanks for our mothers. But as well as thinking about the Church as our mother today, it’s customary too to think about the Blessed Virgin Mary as our mother, and we do that in a few different ways. Primarily of course, we think Mary as the mother of our Lord but, through his incarnation, we think of Jesus as our brother and so by extension, we think of Mary as our mother too. We also think of Mary as our mother because in his words from the Cross when Jesus  gave her into the keeping of his beloved disciple as his mother and he into her keeping as her son, the Church has come to view Mary, again by extension, as the mother of all Christians. And as the mother of Jesus who is the head of the Church, we also think of Mary as the mother of the Church.

It’s often said, isn’t it, that there’s no love like a mother’s love? And that’s something that’s often applied to Mary as an exemplar of a mother’s love. We say this because of her ‘Yes’ to God in accepting her vocation to be the mother of his Son, and through her support of Jesus despite the sword, and probably many swords, which pierced her soul along the way.

It’s also said though, that Mary was enabled to do these things because she’d been specially prepared by God so that she could fulfil this particular vocation. And what’s meant by that isn’t that she was given the particular gifts that she needed in the way that we believe all Christians are, but that through a singular act of grace, God gave to Mary a gift unique to her. But therein lies a problem, two problems actually, both a real theological problem about the Incarnation, and a potential problem about Mary herself.

The theological problem concerns the humanity of Jesus. Both scripture and the Christian faith tell us that Jesus was fully human, and that it was essential that he was. He had to be just like every other human being in order to take our sins upon himself and remove them through his Passion and Cross. But  Jesus took his humanity from Mary and if her humanity was not the same as ours, neither was his. So whatever gifts Mary was given by God to enable her to fulfil her vocation to be the mother of his Son, they can’t have changed her humanity; Mary had to be just like us too. Otherwise we veer towards a belief that was once expressed to me by someone in the Church that Jesus was so much better than us because Mary was so different to us. That simply cannot be the case, the Christian faith as we know and understand it collapses if that is the case.

The other problem is that if we say Mary was so prepared by God that there was no question or doubt that she would say ‘Yes’ when she was told she’d  been chosen to be the mother of God’s Son, we can actually devalue her ‘Yes’ to God and render it meaningless because, to all intents and purposes, we’ve taken away Mary’s free will, and her ability to choose to say, ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. We make Mary’s ‘Yes’ to God the pre-programmed function of an automaton. And if we do that then we can’t talk about Mary ‘Yes’ to God as being an act of love because without free will, without the ability and freedom to choose to love or not to love, there can be no love.

Let me put it this way. In the Gospels, Jesus says,

“Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.“ 

In the same way that Solomon was praised for his glory, we praise people for what we might see as theirs. So, for example, if we see someone who’s clearly made a great effort to look good, and smart, with nice clothes and hair, good make-up, nice smelling perfume or after shave, we might praise them for it. And we’d do that because that person had made a choice to spend time and effort on their appearance. But no matter how lovely a flower looks or smells, there’s no praise, no personal praise, due to that or any flower for looking and smelling so nice because there’s no choice, no free will involved. The flower hasn’t made any conscious effort to look and smell as it does, it looks and smells that way simply because it’s a flower and that’s how flowers look and smell.

And so, if we’re going to praise and glorify Mary for her ‘Yes’ to God we must, always remember that it must have been her free choice; Mary must have been able to say ‘No’. And if that wasn’t the case then there was no love involved in Mary’s ‘Yes’ to God and no praise due to Mary for saying ‘Yes’ either. And it’s the same when we think about Jesus’ Passion and Cross.

In this morning’s Gospel, Jesus says,

“…as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15 that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”

Jesus is the Messiah and what happened to him was what was scripture said would happen to him. But nevertheless, Jesus had a choice. His temptation in the wilderness tells us he had a choice. His decision to go to Gethsemane on the night of his arrest knowing that Judas knew he’d be there and would lead the authorities straight to him tells us he had a choice. His agony in the garden tells us he had a choice and also what a very difficult choice it was. His refusal to defend himself before Pilate when Pilate was looking for a reason to let Jesus go free tells us he had a choice. Jesus could have said ‘No’ to God so many times, but he didn’t, he freely chose to be lifted up on the Cross in love and obedience to God his Father and out of love for us.

We always have to remember that Mary had a choice and Jesus had a choice. They were both given a vocation by God and they both freely chose to say ‘Yes’ and accept their vocation. And we have exactly the same choice. Each and every one of us will have been called and will be called again by God to carry out some task for him, and when that call comes we have a choice; we can either say ‘Yes’ or we can say ‘No’. We can choose to take up our cross and follow Jesus or we can lay our cross down, or even refuse to pick it up in the first place and say ‘No’ to our invitation to follow Jesus. It’s our choice.

It is said that there’s no love like a mother’s love but actually there is. There’s a love that exceeds all others, the love of a God who sent his Son into the world to save a people who’d rejected his love time and time again, and to save us who still reject his love today. And there’s the love of God’s Son who freely chose to be lifted up on a Cross and die to save those people who rejected his love then and to save us who still reject his love today. On this Mothering Sunday when it’s become customary to respond to the love of our mothers for us by showing some token of appreciation for their love, we might spare some time to think about how we’re going to respond to the love of God and his Son for us. How are we going to show our appreciation of their love for us? Are we going to respond with love as Mary and Jesus did by doing what they ask of us, or are we going to spurn their love and turn away when they call us to do something for them? That’s the choice we’re all faced with, and it is our choice; it’s up to us how we respond. So when that call comes, are we going to say ‘Yes’ to God, or are we going to say ‘No’ to God?

Amen.


Propers for the 4th Sunday of Lent (Mothering Sunday) 10th March 2024

Entrance Antiphon
Rejoice, Jerusalem!
Be glad for her, you who love her;
rejoice with her, you who mourned for her,
and you will find contentment at her consoling breasts. 

The Collect
Merciful Lord,
absolve your people from their offences,
that through your bountiful goodness
we may all be delivered from the chains of those sins,
which by our frailty we have committed;
grant this, heavenly Father,
for Jesus Christ’s sake, our blessed Lord and Saviour,
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)        
Chronicles 36:14-16, 19-23
Psalm 137:1-6
Ephesians 2:4-10
John 3:14-21

RCL (St Gabriel’s)          
Numbers 21:4-9
Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22
Ephesians 2:1-10
John 3:14-21

Sermon for Lent 3, 3rd March 2024

When we look at the history of the Church, there can’t any doubt that two of the landmark moments in that history both occurred in the 4th Century. The first was the Edict of Milan in the year 313. This was actually an imperial order about general religious freedom but because the Emperor Constantine was a Christian, it gave Christianity a favoured status among the religions of the Empire, and as a Christian, Constantine actively promoted Christianity. The Edict of Milan though, didn’t make Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire. That didn’t happen until the year 380 when the Edict of Thessalonica not only made Christianity the state religion of the Empire but also established the Nicene Creed, the one we still use today and say each and every Sunday in church, as the official statement of orthodox Christian belief. It also authorised the punishment of heretics, anyone who didn’t conform to the official version of Christianity.

There can’t be any doubt that these two edicts were very important in the history of the Church because they helped the Church to spread by giving protected status, and even imperial warrant to Christians to proclaim their faith, and that obviously helped to ensure the safety of Christian missionaries and evangelists throughout the Empire. But for some people, these edicts were landmarks in a very different sense because some people see these edicts as marking the end of true Christianity. Some people see these edicts as marking the points in time when the Church ceased to be a people who sought to ‘turn the world upside down’, as we read in the Acts of the Apostles  that St Paul and his companions were accused of doing, and became instead an organisation that had a vested interest in maintaining the status quo.

It must be said that there is some truth at least in the latter of those two strains of thought. If we look at the evangelisation of Britain in the post-Roman period for example, we can see that whether it was British missionaries evangelising in Ireland, Irish missionaries evangelising the Picts in what’s now Scotland or the Anglo Saxons in the North of England, or Roman missionaries evangelising in the South and Midlands of England, we see the same pattern. The missionaries looked first to speak to kings so that they could either convert them to Christianity which would give them royal warrant to proclaim the faith in a kingdom, or even if the king wasn’t for renouncing paganism, at he might allow the missionaries to proclaim their faith in his kingdom and give them some degree of royal protection. What often followed that were laws compelling the king’s subjects to adopt Christian practices. But of course all that would count for nothing if the Christian, or at least Church friendly king was deposed and replaced by a pagan king who was not so friendly to the Church. And so the Church did have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo where there was a ruler who was either a Christian himself or was at least friendly towards the Church.

But it wasn’t only in terms of enabling mission and evangelism that the Church had an interest in keeping things as they were. Regardless of the fact that they hold power, kings and ruling elites are sinners, just like everyone else. But  whereas ordinary people might have had to fast or do some other physically unpleasant penance to atone for their sins, ruling elites would pay for their sins by giving the Church money and land, so the Church grew very rich into the bargain. And of course that wealth would be under threat too if there was a change in the order of things. So the Church did have a vested interest in keeping things just as they were and had nothing to gain, at least in earthly terms, in seeing the world turned upside down.

In the Acts of the Apostles, when we read about St Paul and his companions having “turned the world upside down”, it’s in the context of people being won over to Christ through the power and persuasiveness of St Paul’s teaching. We’re told that “some” Jews, “a great many devout Greeks” (and what’s meant by ‘devout Greeks’ is God-fearing Greeks who attended the synagogue) and “not a few leading women” “joined Paul and Silas”. We’re told that because of this, “the Jews were jealous” no doubt because these conversions lessened their power and influence, and as a consequence, affected them financially too. And we read elsewhere in Acts that Paul and his companions were dragged before the authorities, beaten and imprisoned because their teaching and actions hit people where it hurts most – in the pocket.

In this morning’s Gospel we read the story of Jesus cleansing the temple, driving out,

‘…those who were selling oxen and sheep and pigeons, and the money-changers…’ 

This was part of the business of the temple. People were expected to offer a sacrifice when they went to the temple. Many of them would have travelled a long way to visit Jerusalem for the Passover and to save them from having to take animals with them, they could buy animals when they got to the temple. But the sacrificial animals had to be pure and un-blemished and so those who sold them could charge whatever they wanted, and the people would have no choice except to pay up. And people couldn’t pay with their everyday money either. That would have been Roman coinage and that was considered impure so, to protect the purity of the temple people had to change their money into temple money, and the money-changers, cheated people on the exchange rate. So the animal sellers, the money changers and the temple too got rich at the expense of the poor people who were, to use a modern term, being ripped-off. It’s no wonder Jesus was so angry and drove them out. But I don’t think we get the full impact or meaning of Jesus’ words in the version of this story we read today.

In St John’s version, Jesus is angry because people have turned his Father’s house into “a market”. But in other versions of the story, Jesus refers to those responsible for this as “robbers”, and in St Mark’s version, Jesus says,

 “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.” 

I think this, the earliest version of the story, is perhaps the best version because it gives an added dimension to Jesus’ anger. This trading went on in the temple precinct, not in the temple itself. So all this buying and selling, this robbery, as Jesus called it would have been going on in the Court of the Gentiles, the place where God-fearing Gentiles would have gathered to worship God because they weren’t allowed into the temple proper. So what all this trading and cheating and profiteering was doing was preventing non-Jewish people from worshipping God: it was preventing the temple from being the house of prayer for all nations that it was supposed to be. And there is a great and much needed lesson in this for the Church today.

We know we live in difficult times for the Church, and that’s led to the Church to become very focussed on finance, on making money and saving money. In fact this has become such an issue for the Church that it’s now stopped claiming that what it does is “all about money” and now openly admits that much of what it does is about money. And yet the Church is not poor. The Church might cry poverty, but its accounts don’t reflect that, quite the opposite in fact, in terms of its assets the Church grows richer year after year. But people are not stupid, they can see this and how many people are being prevented from coming to Christ and to God because of what they see as the Church’s attitude towards money? Which, rightly or wrongly, many people do see as yet another example of the rich getting richer at the expense of ordinary people. How many people have we met, for example, who’ve said things like, “The Church is loaded but all they do is cry poverty to try and get more money out of people” or “I won’t go to church because all they want from you is money” or “I won’t go to church because all they want you for is to see how much they can get from you”?

We know that one of the reasons for the growth of the early Church was that it was a religion that turned the world upside down. It was a religion that taught a slave was the equal of their master, in fact there’s an old tradition that bishop Onesimus of Ephesus whom St Ignatius of Antioch wrote of in the late 1st Century, was one and the same as the slave Onesimus mentioned in St Paul’s Letter to Philemon. It was a religion that appealed to slaves, to women, to the poor, to the marginalised, to the weak, in fact to all those whom the world, if it regarded them at all, regarded as worthless. It was a religion that appealed to these people because it challenged that status quo, and it was made up of people who, far from seeking to ingratiate themselves to ruling elites in order to make the task of mission and evangelism easier, were prepared to challenge ruling elites and urge them to change their ways in accordance with the teachings of Christ. In a week when it was reported that the Archbishop of Canterbury has had to apologise to the pastor of a Palestinian Christian Church in Bethlehem for refusing to meet him because he’d been advised it may have caused problems, can we honestly say we belong to the same Church which once turned the world upside down?

Of course, we can’t turn the world upside down on our own, but we can turn, at least try to turn, our own little worlds upside down by trying to live in the way that those early Christians did and by trying to do the things they did. We can try to think less of our own comfort and more of those who have little or no comfort. We can try to be more courageous in proclaiming our faith and not worry so much about what people will think or say about us for doing that. And when we get the opportunity, we could remind our Church leaders that Christians are called to turn the world upside down and urge them to show less interest in maintaining the comfort of the status quo and more interest in bringing to Christ the multitudes of people who are downtrodden by the status quo.

Amen. 


Propers for Lent 3, 3rd March 2024

Entrance Antiphon
I will prove my holiness through you.
I will gather you from the ends of the earth;
I will pour clean water on you and wash away all your sins.
I will give you a new spirit within you, says the Lord.

The Collect
Almighty God,
whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain,
and entered not into glory before he was crucified:
mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross,
may find it none other than the way of life and peace;
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)        
Exodus 20:1-17
Psalm 19:8-11
1 Corinthians 1:22-25
John 2:13-25

RCL (St Gabriel’s)          
Exodus 20:1-17
Psalm 19
1 Corinthians 1:18-25
John 2:13-22