During the post Easter break which I took in the last week, I took the opportunity to visit some friends for a night out. These friends and I met through the Church a number of years ago when I was serving in their parish church. Sadly, some of my friends have stopped going to church for various reasons, but most of them still do and so, whenever we meet up, the Church always comes up in our conversations. We talk about things happening in the wider Church and they keep me up to date on what’s happening in their parish church, although these days, they don’t all go to the same parish church that we all used to. The conversation last week was no exception, but there was one story in particular that struck a chord with this morning’s Gospel reading and Jesus’ identification of himself as the ‘Good Shepherd’.

It seems that, a little while ago, one of my friends, in his role as Verger of the parish church, was approached by a member of the congregation because a couple of young lads had been seen in the church porch during a service. He was asked to go and see if he could find out what they wanted because people were worried that these lads might come into church! I think that, in a nutshell, sums up what’s wrong with the so many of our parish churches. People had noticed two young lads, whom they obviously didn’t recognise, outside the church during a service but, instead of going out and inviting them in, they sent someone out to speak to them to make sure that they didn’t come into church.

One of the things I’ve spoken about in the past is the very real and all too common problem in parishes, of people who treat the Church like a private club. People who think the Church, and the parish church in particular should only be open to people whom they think should be there. And typically that’s people whom they like, who like the things they like, want the things they want and so on. People whom they think are ‘good’ and ‘nice’  people. And they don’t want anyone who doesn’t fit their bill, or even whom they don’t like the look of in their parish church. I wonder how on earth people can read the Gospel and have an attitude like that. I wonder how people can call themselves Christians while they have  attitudes like that. I wonder how people can square attitudes like that with the image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd.

Having said that, I do think that when people think of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, the idyllic image it conjures up for them is very likely to be an image very, very different to the reality of the image one Jesus intended people to have.

The image of Jesus the Good Shepherd is a very common one, in fact, it’s likely that whatever church you go into, you’ll find an image of Jesus the Good Shepherd somewhere in that church. And it’s usually an image of Jesus, in a typical English countryside, holding a lamb, either in his arms or carrying it on his shoulders. It’s a pastoral scene, an idealised image of gentle Jesus, meek and mild, caring for gentle, harmless and inoffensive creatures, and by implication, caring for people of that kind too. And as we in the Church are called to continue Jesus’ work until he returns in glory, we are called to do likewise. The problem is that if we only care for those who we find gentle, harmless and inoffensive, what about everyone else? What about those we find awkward, objectionable, and acerbic? All too often, these people aren’t cared for by those  in the church who see themselves as ‘nice’ and ‘respectable’. In fact, people whom some in the church find difficult in some way are all too often not even wanted in the church. And it’s not just people’s personality that can cause them to be unwanted in a church. People can be unwanted, and made to feel unwanted, because of their social standing, how they speak, the way they dress, where they live. I have served in parishes where council tenants were not wanted and were made to feel unwelcome by self-important members of the congregation. As Christians we know this shouldn’t happen in the Church, but it does, and it happens far too often. How many times have we heard it said of someone, “We don’t want their sort here”?

How can anyone who calls themselves a Christian have attitudes like that? To be a Christian means to be a follower of Jesus Christ, it means to do in our lives what he did in his. But what did Jesus do? He called fishermen, tax collectors and Zealots to follow him. He ate with sinners, spoke to Samaritans, showed mercy to adulteresses, accepted the faith of prostitutes. And he did all this because, as the Good Sheherd, he came to seek out and save the lost, all those who’d gone astray in life and all those whom polite society shunned and regarded as unclean and beyond the pale. And, as we read in this morning’s Gospel, Jesus, the Good Shepherd,  was prepared to lay down his life for these people. How then can we say that we’re Christians, disciples of Christ, if we’re not even prepared to let people we don’t like come into our churches?

I think perhaps some people in the Church need to be reminded of what we come to church for. We come to worship God and if we make people feel unwanted and unwelcome and drive them away, we’re preventing them from worshipping God. Isn’t this why Jesus threw the money changers and traders out of the temple? Not so much for what they were doing but that what they were doing in the temple precinct was preventing Gentile worshippers from using the precinct as a place to worship God. How then do we think Jesus will treat us if we, in our self-righteous pomposity turn people away from our churches?

In this morning’s Gospel, Jesus not only calls himself the Good Shepherd, but also says that he is the door of the sheepfold. Typically, the sheepfold was  a dry-stone wall enclosure with an opening to allow the sheep to come and go. But there was no gate, the shepherd himself was the gate. He would have sat, or even slept in the opening to keep the sheep safe from wild animals and robbers, hence Jesus’ words,

“Truly, truly, I say to you, he who does not enter the sheepfold by the door but climbs in by another way, that man is a thief and a robber.” 

And a good shepherd would have been expected to risk his life for the sheep. He was expected to protect them from thieves and wild animals and, if any of the sheep were lost, to search for them, find them and bring them back to the fold. Hence Jesus’ saying that the hired man doesn’t do these things because, as the sheep aren’t his, he doesn’t really care for them. The hired man cares more for himself and his own comfort and safety than for the comfort and safety of the sheep.

But when we apply this to ourselves in the Church, whilst we’re called to care for the sheep and to seek out and save the lost, we must always remember that Jesus is the door of the sheepfold, not us. So why is it that so many people in the Church act as though they are the door? And this is exactly what they are doing when they try to make  their church a little club exclusively for people they want as members. As the poet William Blake expressed it in his poem, The Everlasting Gospel;

For what is Antichrist but those
Who against Sinners Heaven close
With Iron bars in Virtuous State
And Rhadamanthus at the Gate

Rhadamanthus, one of the judges of the dead in Greek mythology and the guardian of The Elysian Fields, the eternal home of the heroic and virtuous.

And this is exactly what those who want to keep anyone they don’t like or don’t agree with or find unpleasant or uncomfortable in any way out of the Church are doing. Setting themselves up as judge over other people. Usurping Jesus’ position as the door of the sheepfold so that they can refuse entry to any whose ‘sort’ they don’t want to join them. And this is Antichrist because it’s the very opposite of what Jesus came into the world to do and of what he did.

When we hear Jesus calling himself the Good Shepherd, and when we see an image of him as such, we might be tempted to see and think of a lovely pastoral scene and gentle Jesus meek and mild, but that’s not the image we’re meant to see. So when we hear and see this image, let’s try to imagine the reality of what being a good shepherd entailed. A good shepherd was someone who cared for the sheep. He was someone who would protect the sheep against any kind of danger, even if that meant risking or even laying down his life for the sheep. As someone who would go out to search for lost sheep and bring them back to the sheepfold. And let’s never forget that Jesus is also the door of the sheepfold; it’s his voice the sheep are called to listen to, and he is the one they’re called to follow. So, if we want people to listen to our voice, let’s make sure that our words are his words and that that, like him, we never refuse entry to the sheepfold to anyone who wants to hear his voice.

Amen.

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Propers for the 4th Sunday of Easter, 21st April 2024

Entrance Antiphon
The earth is full of the goodness of the Lord;
by the word of the Lord the heavens were made,
alleluia!

The Collect
Almighty God,
whose Son Jesus Christ is the resurrection and the life:
raise us, who trust in him,
from the death of sin to the life of righteousness,
that we may seek those things which are above,
where he reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Amen.

The Readings
Missal (St Mark’s)       
Acts 4:8-12
Psalm 118:1, 8-9, 21-23, 26, 28-29
1 John 3:1-2
John 10:11-18

RCL (St Gabriel’s)          
Acts 4:5-12
Psalm 23
1 John 3:16-24
John 10:11-18

As a parish priest, I often receive in the post information and newsletters from various organisations. Most of these things are from Christian organisations and, on the whole, they’re from charities and so they inevitably ask for donations to help with their cause. Usually, there’s a small gift of some kind in the envelope along with the newsletter and information about the particular cause the charity is looking for help with, and very often that’s a bookmark or a prayer card. I received one of these things a few weeks ago and in it was a bookmark that had the slogan ‘It takes courage to be a Christian.’ 

That particular gift came from an organisation that tries to help persecuted Christians throughout the world and so the slogan made perfect sense. For some people it does take a great deal of courage to be a Christian because in some parts of the world people quite literally do take their lives in their hands to go to church or even to openly admit that they are Christians. But on thinking a little more deeply about it, it’s not only in those places where it takes courage to be a Christian, it takes courage to be a Christian wherever we are and whatever our circumstances are. The only difference is in how we might have to show that courage.  

As Christians we all know that we’re called to follow Christ on the way of the Cross or, as Jesus himself put it, to take up our cross and follow him. So Christ calls us to a life of self-sacrifice for the sake of the Gospel. And that’s true for each and every person who calls themselves a Christian, regardless of their situation. For some, taking up the cross might mean risking their lives for their faith. For others it might mean going to places we might not want to go to or doing things we might not want to do. But whatever our own cross might be, taking it up and carrying it does take courage.  

But what is courage? Well one thing courage is not, is fearlessness. Talking as someone who’s raced motorbikes, I can tell you that fearless people are people who don’t realise just how dangerous what they’re doing is and they are a danger to themselves and everyone around them. People like that are not courageous, usually they’re either not very bright or they simply don’t care what happens to themselves or anyone else either. Courage is the ability to do something even though that thing is frightening and we’re fully aware of just how difficult and dangerous it is. Courage is the ability or willingness to do something even though it does frighten us. And this is the kind of courage we need to have as Christians.  

Some people might say that there’s nothing frightening about being a Christian. Well, in this country that might be right in one sense because we’re under no threat for coming to church or for saying that we are Christians. But that is to completely misunderstand what it means to take up our cross and follow Jesus and to fail to recognise why being a Christian can be, and at times must be frightening and takes courage.  

Fear and the overcoming of fear is at the heart of the Gospel. Do we not read that Mary was afraid, terrified actually, when Gabriel announced to her that she was to be the mother of God’s Son? Don’t we read too, that Joseph was urged not to be afraid to take Mary as his wife? We read too, that Joseph of Arimathea ‘was a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews’. How often do we read that the disciples were afraid? We read one example of that in this morning’s Gospel. Wasn’t Jesus himself afraid in Gethsemane as his asked his Father to take “this cup away”? And yet all these people did what they had to do in spite of the fact that what they were being asked to do frightened them. They all showed courage and if we want to know where they found that courage then we can find that in the Gospel too. How many times, when people were afraid, did Jesus calm their fears by saying that he was with them, such as we read in this morning’s Gospel that he did, or by telling them to have faith?  

As Christians, we say that we have faith. We say that we believe Jesus’ promise that he’ll be with us always. We say we believe that the Holy Spirit was sent to guide and strengthen us in our discipleship. So why is it then that so many Christians lack courage, the courage of their convictions, the courage to take up their cross and do what’s difficult for the sake of their faith and for Christ and his Church? To be honest, if we take Jesus at his word, it can only be because of a lack of faith, faith in his words and a lack of faith in him and his promise that he is with us always.  

When I say that people lack faith, I don’t mean that they don’t believe in God, nor that they don’t believe in Jesus. I don’t mean that they don’t believe that what Jesus said was God’s truth, nor that they don’t believe that Jesus died and on the third day rose again. What I do mean is this. In St Matthew’s Gospel, we read the story of Jesus healing a boy with epilepsy, something the disciples hadn’t been able to do. After Jesus had healed the boy we read this; 

Then the disciples came to Jesus privately and said, “Why could we not cast it out?” He said to them, “Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’, and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.”  

That is the faith that people lack. Not the faith that we can literally move mountains from here to there, but the faith that we can, metaphorically, move mountains if only we truly believe that we can. That we can do what we think is impossible for us if only we truly believe that we can. People, good and faithful Christians, say that they have faith but how many of us won’t even try to do something because we don’t believe that we can do it? How often do we refuse to even try to do something simply because we’ve never done it before? How often do we refuse to even try to do something because we don’t believe we have the gifts, the skills and talents to do it? Christians do all these things and yet, at same time, say that they believe God gives us the gifts to do the impossible. That is the faith that people lack, and that is the lack of faith that holds Christinas back in their own discipleship and holds the Church back from proclaiming the Gospel as it’s called to and from the hope of real growth. You might think, or even say, that faith like that is very difficult. Well, perhaps it is, but it is not impossible, and I’ll give you an example of that kind of faith, my own.  

At the time I was going through the selection process for ordination, I was working in the Timber Treatment industry. It was a good job, one I enjoyed, I liked the company I worked for and the people I worked for and with. And it was a job that was on the verge of becoming a career because I’d been offered and provisionally accepted the job of Assistant Engineering Manager, effectively the Field Engineering Manager for Scotland and the North and Midlands of England. I had a company car and, if we adjust for inflation, my salary as an engineer was 50% higher then, in 2002, than my stipend as an Incumbent is now. Had I taken the job of Engineering Manager, I’d have had a bigger company car and a salary, again adjusted for inflation, more than double my present stipend. And I gave all that up to be ordained in Christ’s Church. I gave all that up to go back to school, effectively, on a student grant and start all over again in a completely different profession. I gave up what I knew and was happy and comfortable with and, as the offer of promotion shows, was very good at, to do something I’d never done before. And I knew that as a deacon and then priest, there were a lot of things I’d have to do that I wasn’t very happy and comfortable doing. I knew that I’d have to do a lot of things that I’d never done before at all. But I did it because I truly believed that it was what God was calling me to do. It hasn’t always been easy, in fact at  times it’s been very hard, and I don’t mind admitting that, on occasions, I’ve actually said to myself that there must be easier ways to make a living than this, and asked myself, “Why on earth did I ever leave the Timber Treatment industry?”! But, 20 years later, here I am, still doing what I believe God wants me to do. 

I was asked at the time I left the Timber Treatment industry, and have been asked since, whether leaving that behind to do something so new and so different was an easy thing to do. And the answer was ‘No, it wasn’t’ and for the reasons I’ve given. I was happy and comfortable in what I was doing, and I really didn’t want to leave either the company I was with or the job I had. But I did because I believed it was what God wanted me to do and I also truly believed that if this was what God wanted me to do, then whatever new it led me to, however hard I thought it was going to be, no matter how hard it might be, if it was what God wanted me to do, he would see me through and whatever shortfalls there were in me and my gifts and talents, he would make up for through grace. In human terms it was a stupid thing to do but I made my decision on faith and in faith. And, as I said, here I still am, 20 years later. And in those 20 years I’ve found that whatever new I’ve had to do, I’ve been able to do and whatever I’ve had to do that I used to find or still do find difficult, I can do. Some people have said that my decision to leave behind my old life to be a priest in Christ’s Church was a very brave one, a courageous one. Well, if it was, it was one I found the courage to make through faith.  

To be a Christian, to truly take up our cross and follow Christ does take courage because to do that means that we have to be prepared to do what’s new and what’s difficult, perhaps even what we might think is impossible, that we can’t do. But we read in the Gospels about so many people who were frightened by the new and difficult things they were asked to do for God, by Christ. Their faith allowed them to do these things, what does it say about us and our faith if we’re not prepared to even try?  

It’s sometimes said that to be Christian means following Christ to the best of our ability, but if that’s all we do, we’ll never do anything we don’t think we have the ability to do. We’ll never change because we’ll never try anything new and different. How can we ever grow as disciples if we won’t do these things? Where is the courage that it takes to be a Christian in that? Rather, to be a Christian, to be a true disciple of Christ, means to follow Christ regardless of whether we think we have the ability or not, and to do it in faith that he is with us and will give us all we need to do what he asks of us.  

Amen. 

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Propers for the 3rd Sunday of Easter, 14th April 2024

Entrance Antiphon 
Let all the earth cry out to God with joy;  
praise the glory of his name; proclaim his glorious praise, 
alleluia! 

The Collect 
Almighty Father, 
who in your great mercy gladdened the disciples with the sight of the risen Lord: 
give us such knowledge of his presence with us, 
that we may be strengthened and sustained by his risen life, 
and serve you continually in righteousness and truth; 
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)
Acts 3:13-15, 17-19 
Psalm 4:2, 4, 7, 9 
1 John 2:1-5  
Luke 24:35-48 

RCL (St Gabriel’s)
Acts 3:12-19 
Psalm 4 
1 John 3:1-7  
Luke 24:36-48 

If ever there was a saint for today’s world, surely it must be St Thomas. Doubting Thomas, the man who wouldn’t believe until he’d seen it with his own eyes. Because I think today’s world is full of people just like Thomas, people who have no faith in anything they can’t see and verify for themselves. This is one of the reasons the Church is having such a hard time these days isn’t it, because we don’t deal in things that can be seen and touched, we don’t preach something that people can verify for themselves do we? We deal in faith and, as the Letter to the Hebrews  says,

‘…faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.’

So we have a hard time today in a world where there is so little faith, so little time for things that can’t be seen or touched and verified by individual experience. But is that really the case?

One of the things people say today is that they look at the world through science rather than religion because science is about facts than can be proven not about faith that can’t. But have you ever noticed how many people who espouse that view actually express it in terms of faith? They say something like ‘I don’t believe in God; I believe in science.’ But what is belief other than faith? Belief is the acceptance that something is true without proof positive that it is so. Belief is simply another word for faith. So saying ‘I believe in science’ is just as much a statement of faith as is saying ‘I believe in God’ or that we believe in any other tenet of the Christian faith.

And for the vast majority of people science is a matter of belief. If I were to ask people here today whether a baryon is made up of two or three quarks, how many people would know the answer? How many would even know what I was talking about? A baryon is a particle and science tells us that it’s made up of three of three quarks but how many people understand what that actually means or would have the slightest idea how to go about proving it for themselves? But they believe it’s so because scientists tell us it’s so. So, for the vast majority of people, when they say that they believe in science, what they’re really doing is expressing a faith, their faith in the tenets of science and in what scientists tell them.

And even when it comes to scientific ‘facts’, that everyone thinks they do understand, how many people actually do understand? If I were to ask what the Theory of Evolution says, I’d expect to get answers that have something to do with the survival of the fittest. But is that really what the Theory of Evolution says? What if I were to put to you that according to evolutionary theory it’s not necessarily the fittest that survive and that genetic drift may cause the fittest to die out and the less fit to survive? Would anyone know what I was talking about? Unless you’d studied biology or evolution for yourselves, probably not. And yet this is part of the evolutionary theory that people think that they understand so well. So, on the whole, when people say that they believe in science rather than in God or anything else that we might call religious faith, what they’re really doing is expressing a faith, their faith in science and scientists because, on the whole they don’t understand and can’t prove for themselves what it is they say that they believe in.

The point I’m making is that, in spite of what people may think and say, there is faith in today’s world. There’s just as much faith in the world today as there ever has been. The problem for the Church is that it’s not necessarily, and in our own part of the world increasingly less likely to be, Christian faith. So why should this be?

Quite frankly, in my opinion, it’s the Church’s own fault that this is the case and it’s the fault of the people, the individuals, who both lead and make up the Church. It’s our fault because we’ve allowed this to happen and, on the whole, we aren’t prepared to do anything, or at least anywhere near enough, about reversing the situation. To put that in a nutshell, it’s our fault because we don’t do anywhere near enough of the very thing Christ commissioned us to do; we don’t proclaim the Gospel as we should.

Why do so many people today say that they believe in science? I don’t think there’s any doubt that in large part that’s because scientists are always telling us that they have all the answers, and that faith is nothing more than the superstition of ill-educated and unthinking people. And they say it so often and so loudly that people believe them, no doubt in part because people don’t like to be thought of as ill-educated and unthinking. So they say that they agree with science and scientists even though, on the whole they don’t understand what scientists are saying, or the science they say they agree with. And people don’t even think that what they’re actually doing when they say that they believe in science is simply swapping one faith for another.

And what does the Church do in the face of this? All too often, rather than meeting the challenge with an equally robust defence of the faith, it looks for holes in what science says and slots its faith into them. It’s sometimes known as preaching a God of the gaps. In other words, the Church looks for gaps in scientific knowledge and says that’s where God is, in the bits that science can’t explain. And because this is what the Church does, it doesn’t equip its people to deal with this challenge when they come across it in the course of their lives. How many people here have avoided talking about their faith, or allowed their faith to be ridiculed by those who ‘believe in science’ because you didn’t really know how to respond to the challenge of what they were saying? But when we have leaders who seem more interested in politics than faith, in political correctness than truth and in not offending those of other faiths and none than in defending our own faith, whose fault is this, really?

And now to be very controversial, I constantly hear people complaining about the growth of Islam. People complaining that this is supposed to be  Christian country and Muslims are taking it over. People asking what I think about such and such a place being made into a mosque? Ok. If you really want to know what I think. I think good luck to them. Why should we complain about the growth of Islam if we’re not prepared to do anything about the growth of the Church? Why should we complain about people of another faith taking over what’s supposed to be a Christian country if we’re not prepared to do anything to make it and keep it a Christian country? Why should we complain about places being turned into mosques if we can’t be bothered turning up to church in sufficient numbers to keep the churches we have open, let alone, in sufficient numbers to make building more churches necessary? As I said in my sermon last Sunday, people want and expect the Church to be here for them when they want and need the Church, but far too many can’t be bothered to lift a finger to make sure that the Church survives, let alone grows.

The growth of belief in science, and the growth of other faiths tell us that there is faith in today’s world, a great deal of faith, and if the Church isn’t benefitting from that we need to stop blaming others and look at ourselves and put our own house in order. I know at times we’re not helped by the Church leadership, but they don’t dictate what we do as individual Christians in our own lives. That’s up to us. So why do so many of us act as though we’re embarrassed by our faith or ashamed of our faith? And not just out in the world, but in church too. Sometimes, when I’m leading a service in church, I get the feeling that I’m either alone or the only one taking part in the liturgy because the responses that people make to prayers are so quiet that they’re inaudible. Sometimes I know that people aren’t responding at all because I can see them. Why? What do people think is going to happen to them if they speak? Do they think someone is going to make fun of them or criticise them if they open their mouths in prayer and praise? Why would anyone do that in church of all places? That’s what we’re here to do. We call what we do in church liturgy. Does anyone know what the word means? It comes from two Greek words that together mean public working. We call it liturgy because it’s supposed to be something that the people do in public, not what the priest does by themselves on behalf of the people.

There is faith in the world, but if we in the Church want to make sure that it becomes Christian faith then we in the Church need to need to start taking our faith more seriously, both in church and in the world. If we had 200 people coming to St Mark’s and St Gabriel’s every Sunday, we could perhaps afford to have some of them along for the ride. When we have a congregation of 30 – 40, if we’re lucky, on Sunday, we can’t afford that. And the Church can’t afford that either. We need to start speaking up for our faith and sharing our faith. We need to let people know that we believe our faith is something worth fighting for. If we want people to take us and our faith seriously, we need to show that we take our faith seriously. If we want people to make a commitment to our faith and the Church, we need to show our commitment to our faith and the Church. We can’t show them Christ’s hands and side for them to put their fingers and hands into to bring them to faith, but we can say of Jesus, ‘My Lord and my God’ and then show that we truly do believe that by what we do and say both in church and in the world.

Amen.

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Propers for 2nd Sunday of Easter, 7th April 2024

Entrance Antiphon
Like new-born children you should thirst for milk,
on which your spirit can grow to strength,
alleluia!

The Collect
Almighty Father,
you have given your only Son to die for our sins and to rise again for our justification:
grant us so to put away the leaven of malice and wickedness,
that we may always serve you in pureness of living and truth;
through the merits of your Son Jesus Christ 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)        
Acts 4:32-35
Psalm 118:2-4, 15-18, 22-24
1 John 5:1-6
John 20:19-31

RCL (St Gabriel’s)          
Acts 4:32-35
Psalm 133
1 John 1:1-2:2
John 20:19-31