Sermon for The Baptism of the Lord Sunday 9th January, 2022

Not too long ago, reports emerged that the present Archbishop of Canterbury had expressed his doubts about the existence of God, and indeed, I spoke about this in a sermon when these reports emerged. But as disappointing as that may be coming from an archbishop, it’s probably not something that would have come as too much of a surprise to anyone who’s been a member of the Church for any length of time. Some of us I’m sure, for example, will remember the explosion of controversy, not to mention anger of many in the Church when, in the mid-1980s, the bishop elect of Durham, David Jenkins, said that he doubted the literal truth of the virgin birth and the physical reality of Jesus’ Resurrection. On that occasion a petition was raised and signed by over 10,000 people asking the Archbishop of York not to consecrate David Jenkins as bishop. The petition fell on deaf ears but when, 3 days after his consecration as bishop, York Minster was struck by lightning and was severely damaged by the ensuing fire, some saw this as a sign of divine wrath at Bishop Jenkins’ appointment.

It’s sad, but true that, for quite some time now, some people in the Church have been only too eager to express their own doubts about their faith and about the truth of the Scriptures in public. And, as we live in an increasingly secular society, and those in the public eye, such as bishops and archbishops, don’t seem to see anything wrong with expressing their doubts to the media, is it any wonder that these things are given the publicity that they are and that the Church is held in such low esteem these days? After all, why would anyone listen to a Church whose leaders say, quite publicly, that they doubt the truth of what the Church proclaims and teaches?

But whatever people believe about what the Church teaches and what the Scriptures say, one bible story which is never called into question is the one we heard in our Gospel reading this morning; the story of Jesus’ baptism by John the Baptist. One of the reasons for this is that we find it in all the Gospels. Matthew, Mark and Luke tell the story explicitly and whilst John doesn’t do that, he certainly alludes to it because in John’s Gospel, John the Baptist says of Jesus,

“I saw the Spirit descend from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but he who sent me to baptize with water said to me, ‘He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain, this is he who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.’”

Another very good reason for our belief in the truth of this story is that it’s told at all, let alone by all the evangelists. The Gospels are very keen to point out that Jesus is superior to John the Baptist, indeed they record John having said this himself. So why would they tell a story about Jesus being baptised by John, submitting to John in a sense, unless it was not only true but also widely known to have happened and therefore, impossible to ignore?

But if we can’t doubt the truth of Jesus’ baptism by John, that still leaves the question of why Jesus went to John to be baptised? Why should the Son of God go to a man, even one as great as John, and submit to him in this way? Or, to put the question in John’s terminology, why should the greater submit to the lesser? Only Matthew, in his Gospel, gives us an answer to that. St Matthew tells us that,

‘Jesus came from Galilee to the Jordan to John, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfil all righteousness.”’

For the Jews, and we must never forget that Jesus was a Jew, righteousness was about living in a right relationship with God. It’s what God called all his people to be through his covenant with them. So to fulfil all righteousness was to do everything that God required under the terms of the covenant between himself and the people of Israel. God had sent John to proclaim the coming of the Messiah, and to baptise the people in readiness for his coming. So being baptised by John was also something that God required of his people and as Jesus was one of God’s people, it was something God required of him too. And if we look at it in this way, we can see that Jesus baptism by John is a display of his humanity; that he was, as the author of the Letter to the Hebrews puts it ‘completely like his brothers and sisters’.

Jesus though, as well as being human, was and is, also divine. Jesus is the Son of God and so through him, God tells us what we need to do to fulfil all righteousness. We find out what this means through Jesus’ teaching and example, but we’re also told what it means in the Great Commission that Jesus gave to us, his disciples. St Matthew tells us that,

Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.”

The words of the Great Commission make it quite clear that, just as it was for Jesus, baptism is something that God requires of us today too. One of the problems we have with baptism in the Church today though, is that people don’t bring their children to the Church to be baptised in anywhere near the numbers they once did. Quite often too, baptisms take place outside the Mass, the Eucharist. Strictly speaking, that should only happen in the case of emergency baptism but these days, it happens more often than not. There are reasons for this, not least that people who bring their children to Church to be baptised are very often only interested in having a nice day – half an hour in Church, a few nice photos and then a party. The spiritual significance of baptism is hardly given a thought, if it’s given any thought at all. Because of that, people can be very disruptive if they’re asked to be in Church for the whole of a Sunday service because they’re simply not interested in anything other than the baptism. I’ve been present when that’s happened. I can remember more than one occasion when a baptism party has been so disruptive after the baptism that they’ve been asked to leave the Church either by the vicar or the churchwardens. On one occasion when that happened, the baptism party did leave and then started what turned out to be a mass brawl in the churchyard!

One unfortunate consequence of this though, is that most people who do come to church regularly, hardly ever take part in a baptism. And the regular members of a church are expected to take part in a baptism. They’re expected to take part through their own responses to the questions put to the congregation and they’re expected to take part by promising to uphold the newly baptised in their life in Christ, and to welcome them as new members of the Church. But as well as not being able to do that, not being present at baptisms denies people the opportunity to be reminded of their own commitment to fulfil all righteousness made in their own baptismal promises and the vows they made at their own confirmation.

I’m not asking anyone to answer these questions now, but I am asking you to think about them and answer them for yourselves. How long is it since you thought about your own baptismal promises and confirmation vows and what they mean? How long is it since you really thought about those baptismal promises to reject the devil and all rebellion against God, to renounce the deceit and corruption of evil and to repent of your sins? How long is it since you really thought about what it means to turn to Christ as your Saviour, to submit to him as your Lord and to come to Christ as the way, the truth and the life and to make his way, his truth and his life your own?

If you’re confirmed, how long is it since you thought about the vows you made at your confirmation, the vows to continue in the apostle’s teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread and in prayer, in other words, in your vow to come to Church regularly? How long is it since you thought about your vow to resist evil and, when you do sin, to repent and return to the Lord? How long since you thought about you vow to proclaim the Gospel by both word and deed? How long since you thought about your vows to love your neighbour as yourself, to acknowledge Christ’s authority over us, to pray for the world, to help the weak, and to seek peace and justice? How long is it since you recalled that, at both your baptism and confirmation, you were anointed to symbolise your reception of the Holy Spirit of God to guide and strengthen you in your attempt to fulfil all these promises, to fulfil all righteousness, as God requires us to do? How long since you remembered that you received a lighted candle to symbolise not only that you are called to walk in the light of Christ all the days of your life, but also to be a light in the world yourself, to the glory of God the Father?

I’m sure you all try to do these things, as we all do. But the promises and vows we made to do them are hard to keep and none of us ever keep them all as well as we could and should. So it’s never a bad thing to be reminded of them from time to time, just to keep us on our toes. It would be nice if we could be reminded of them by a regular stream of baptisms in church on a Sunday morning, during the Mass, the Eucharist, but unfortunately, that doesn’t happen these days, so we have to be reminded in other ways, or to find other ways to remind ourselves of the promises and vows we made to fulfil all righteousness.

I don’t think people should criticise themselves unnecessarily because there are plenty of people in the world who’ll do that for them without any help or encouragement. Unfortunately though, we have lots of people in the Church who, by being critical of their own faith, have given more than enough help and encouragement to those outside the Church to criticise both the Church and our faith. But if we can take some time to think about our baptismal promises and confirmation vows and try to keep them a little better than we might have done in the past or are doing now, if we can do all we can to fulfil all righteousness in our lives, at least we shouldn’t be giving any help or encouragement to those who are looking to criticise us, the Church, or our faith.

Amen.


The Propers for The Baptism of the Lord can be viewed here.

Sermon for the 2nd Sunday of Christmas, 2nd January 2022

Photo by Jeswin Thomas on Pexels.com

The Christmas story must be one of the best known and well-loved of all stories, either biblical or secular. But one thing that often surprises people who don’t know the Bible is that the Christmas story isn’t written as one continuous story in the Bible. I was reminded of this just before Christmas when I was chatting to a non-churchgoing friend of mine who, although they knew the elements of the Christmas story, didn’t realise that the Christmas story is actually an amalgam of stories we find in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke.

Those of us who do come to church, or who follow the readings we use in church over Christmas, will know that we don’t have any readings from the Gospel of Mark during the Christmas season, and there’s a very good reason for this. There are no stories from St Mark’s Gospel included in the Christmas story for the simple reason that St Mark’s Gospel doesn’t contain any.

St Mark’s Gospel begins with a very short introduction which says, 

‘The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.’

and then moves straight on to the message and ministry of John the Baptist. There’s no mention of Mary and Joseph or their angelic messengers; no journey to Bethlehem or mention of the inn and manger; no mention of shepherds and angels; nothing about Herod, nor about the Wise Men and their gifts; and no mention of the Holy Family’s flight into Egypt and the slaughter of the children of Bethlehem. We find all these things, and only find them, either in the Gospel of Matthew or the Gospel of Luke.

But although the Christmas story we all know and love comes from the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, one reading the Church insists must be read, either on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, as indeed it was here this Christmas, is this morning’s Gospel reading, the prologue to St John’s Gospel.

Like St Mark, St John doesn’t tell us anything about the events of Jesus’ birth. Like St Mark, St John begins his Gospel with an introduction and then moves straight on to the message and ministry of John the Baptist.

So why does the Church exclude St Mark from its cycle of readings at Christmas and yet not only include but insist that we include this reading from the Gospel of John? 

Well, the reason is in the difference in which St Mark and St John introduce their respective Gospels. Whereas St Mark uses a simple, single sentence to introduce his story of Jesus’ ministry, St John uses the prologue we heard this morning. As well as introducing Jesus as the Son of God, St John introduces Jesus as the eternal Word of God; the Word which was with God at the beginning of all things and was instrumental in the creation of all things; the Word which was, and is, God and which has now been born as a human being and lived on earth. The Word, the God, that people have seen with their own eyes and who has given human beings the power to become children of God, sons and daughters of God themselves. So whilst St Matthew and St Luke tell us about the events of Jesus’ birth, the Christmas story, in the prologue to his Gospel, St John tells us in no uncertain terms what Jesus’ birth and the Christmas story is really all about. But what does it mean to call Jesus the incarnate Word of God, or the Word made flesh, and to think of him in that way? And what does that mean for us?

If we go right back to the beginning of the Bible, to the Book of Genesis, we’re told that, before creation,

‘The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.

And God said, “Let there be light”, and there was light.’ 

So the first thing God did, before the creation of light, was he spoke. God spoke and it was done. And from this we find an understanding in the Scriptures that God’s Word is equivalent to God’s action, a belief that, if God says something, it will happen just as God has said it will. Such as this from Psalm 33:

‘Let all the earth fear the Lord;
let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of him!
For he spoke, and it came to be;
he commanded, and it stood firm.’
 

So to speak of God’s Word is to speak of God’s action too. And to speak of God’s Word made flesh is to speak of God’s action in the flesh. In other words, to speak of the Word made flesh is to speak of what God would be like, how God would act and live, if he was a human being. So to speak of Jesus as the incarnate Word, the Word made flesh, is to say that, in Jesus, we see how God would live as a human being and indeed, to see how God did live as a human being, because the Word was God and Jesus was the Word made flesh; he was God made flesh. So what does that mean for us?

We know from the Scriptures that God had tried numerous times, through the law and the prophets, to teach his people the way they should live. We also know from the Scriptures that to live as good, obedient children of God their Father, proved impossible for most people. And so the understanding grew that, in the end, God would do something about this by sending a Messiah to save his people from their sins, from themselves, so that they could live as his children in the way God intended them to. So, in the sending of his Word, it’s as though God was saying to the people, ‘You won’t listen to those I send so I’ll come myself to show you how to live as I want you to live; so that you can see with your own eyes how to live as I want you to live and be my children.’ And this is what John explains in the prologue to his Gospel;

‘And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.’

Of course, not everyone believed that Jesus was the Messiah, let alone God’s Word made flesh, but John tells us that,

‘…to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the power to become children of God…’ 

But whilst St John tells us that we become children of God by believing in Jesus, our belief has to be a belief that leads to action. Just as God’s Word equates to God’s action, so our belief has to be about more than words. It’s not enough to say we believe, we have to back up our words by our actions, by the way we live our lives. To put it in modern parlance, we have to walk the walk, as well as talk the talk. But if we can do that, then our faith in Jesus does indeed give us the power to be God’s children.

We obviously can’t be God’s sons and daughters in the same way that Jesus was, and is, God’s Son because he is God’s Word, the Word who was in the beginning with God and is God. 

But, if our belief in Jesus leads us to act in the way that Jesus acted in his earthly life then we will, at least in a sense, be a part of the Word made flesh.

We are part of the Church and what is the Church but the Body of Christ, the physical manifestation of Jesus’ presence, the incarnate Word’s presence, in the world today through our flesh? What is the Church for but to proclaim the Word of God in the world and, hopefully, act out the Word of God in the world? So in that sense, the Church is the Word made flesh in the world in this and every generation and because of that, so are we, in our generation.

If we look at it in this way, we are all part of the Christmas story because we all have a part to play in the ongoing ministry of Jesus, the Word made flesh. So let’s take our part in the Christmas story seriously by making our words about God’s Word, lead to actions that match not only our words but the words and actions of Jesus, God’s Word made flesh for us, at Christmas.

Amen.   


The Propers for the 2nd Sunday of Christmas can be viewed here.

Sermon for Holy Family (Christmas 1) Year C, Sunday 26 December, 2021

One of the great things about being a Christian is that our faith gives us the assurance that there is some definite meaning and purpose to life. We’re not alone in that belief of course because it’s one we share with people of other faiths. And we are, I think, blessed in that belief. To know that there is some ultimate meaning to life and that we have a definite purpose in life is one of the sources of joy we find in our faith because the alternative, that life has no meaning or purpose, that we’re born, we live out our time on earth and then we die could, and perhaps would, be the cause of despair and misery. I think it’s certainly the cause of much misery in the world because a belief that this life is all there is and that there’s no meaning or purpose to life other than personal happiness and satisfaction for the few years of this life, is what lies behind much the greed and selfishness in the world; the greed and selfishness that causes so much suffering and misery in the world.

So the belief that life does have a meaning and that we have a purpose in life is a great joy, both to us, and to others because it should stop us from causing pain and suffering to others by our greed and selfishness. But, having said that, one of the great problems we can have as Christians is knowing just what purpose God has for us, personally. We believe that we’ve all been called, by name and that God has a definite purpose for each and everyone of us, a purpose that’s been given to no one else and so a purpose that won’t be fulfilled unless we fulfil it. But it’s often very difficult for us to discern just what God’s purpose for us, the one he’s committed to us and no other, actually is.

That’s a problem summed up very well by St John Henry Newman in some words from his work, Meditations and Devotions. I’m sure some of you will be familiar with these words but if not, they’re well worth reading and getting to know.

‘God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good; I shall do His work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it if I do but keep His commandments. Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him, in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him. If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me. Still, He knows what He is about.’ 

If we’ve ever thought seriously, as all Christians should, about just what God is calling us to do, and been unsure because the answer isn’t clear to us, as it very often isn’t, those words will resonate very strongly with us. We often aren’t certain what God wants us to do with our lives but, if we can’t discern God’s purpose for us in specific terms, we can all, always, follow God’s purpose for us in general terms until that specific purpose does become clearer to us. And we can learn a lot about following God’s plan, at least in general terms from today’s liturgies.

Our Gospel reading today was the story of the 12-year-old Jesus putting his parents into a panic by going missing in Jerusalem. Then when they found him 3 days later in the temple,

‘…sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions.’ 

simply dismissing his parent’s concerns with a response that in modern parlance would amount to ‘What’s your problem?’ And by way of explanation, Jesus simply said to them,

“Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” or “… about my Father’s business?” 

depending on the translation. But what is being about the Father’s business? Isn’t that simply another way of saying we’re doing what God wants us to do, or that we’re carrying out God’s purpose for us?

So what this tells us is, that in general terms at least, to be about God’s business, to do what God is calling us to do includes being in his house, not only to worship him and to pray, but to talk about and learn about our faith. For us, that means coming to church and using that time, not only for worship and prayer, but as a time to talk to people about our faith and to learn about our faith. But how many of us do that?

We worship God and pray in church and, hopefully, we learn something about our faith by doing that. But how many of us ever talk about our faith to the fellow Christians we meet in church? I don’t intend this as a criticism but as an observation; when people talk to me in church, they very rarely ask me anything about the Christian faith. And yet one of the things I was specifically ordained to do and instituted as vicar of this parish to do is to teach the faith. That is part of my specific purpose in life as a priest of the Church. But isn’t it true that the conversations we have in church, with our fellow Christians, are far more likely to be about what we saw on the TV this week, or where we’re going on holiday this year, or to arrange or discuss our social lives and calendars? As interesting, and necessary too, as these conversations are, they probably won’t help us to discern God’s specific purpose for our lives. Jesus’ example is to use our time in God’s house as a time for worship, prayer and learning, not least through conversations about our faith with those who share it.

Today, 26th December, is St Stephen’s Day. This year, because it falls on a Sunday, we transfer St Stephen’s Day to the next free day in the Church’s calendar, which this year is Wednesday, 29th December. But I make no apology for introducing St Stephen into today’s liturgy because St Stephen is also someone who can teach us something about God’s purpose for our lives.

We know that St Stephen was one of the first deacons of the Church. We also know that the first deacons were appointed to carry out the ‘daily distribution’ of provisions for the needy so that the Apostles could concentrate on preaching and teaching the Gospel. We read all this in Acts 6. But in Acts 7 we read that, in addition to the daily distribution, St Stephen was also proclaiming the Gospel, a heresy to some of the Jews, and so he was arrested and stoned to death. Being appointed as a deacon, what we would now call being ordained to holy orders, was St Stephen’s specific purpose in life, his calling from God. But his calling can help us to follow our calling in life too. 

As Christians, we’re all called to good works, perhaps especially to helping those in need. And we’re all called to proclaim the Gospel, not least as we go about the business of our daily lives. So St Stephen’s calling, the specific purpose of his life, is part of the general purpose God has for all of us.

But if we’re going to follow God’s purpose for our lives, we have to remember that all of the things we’ve read and heard about today go together. We can’t pick and choose which bits of God’s purposes to follow and which not to follow.

There’s no point in coming to church if we don’t use our time in church to learn about our faith so that we can proclaim it and live it out in a better way. There’s no point in having great knowledge of our faith if we don’t proclaim it and live it out. There’s no point either in proclaiming our faith if we don’t come to church to worship God and to pray, just as there’s no point in proclaiming our faith if we don’t carry out the good works our faith entails. And despite what many people seem to think these days, good works alone do not make us Christians. People of all faiths and no faith can, and do, carry out good works so there’s nothing specifically Christian about doing that. For our good works to be true acts of Christian charity, the works must go hand in hand with our worship in church and our proclamation of the Gospel because it’s only when all these things go together, that the good works we do can be seen as acts of Christian charity. It’s only when all these things go together that the good works we do can be seen as part of our worship of God. It’s only when all these things go together that people can see that we know what our faith is about. It’s only when all these things go together that our good works can be seen as a proclamation of the Gospel by our living it out in our daily lives.

These are the things that all Christians are called to do, they’re all part the general purpose God has for all us, so we all need to carry them out to the best of our ability. What our own specific purpose in life may be is more difficult to discern but even if we can and do discern it, we can’t neglect to fulfil the general purpose God has for all of us. And even if we aren’t ever able to discern what we think God’s specific purpose for our lives is, as long as we do those things that all Christians are called to do, we won’t have gone too far astray.  Who knows, as St John Henry Newman suggested in the words we heard a little earlier, if we simply keep God’s commandments, if we do what he calls all people to do, perhaps we’ll have fulfilled God’s purpose for our own lives without even realising it?

Amen.


The Propers for Holy Family Sunday (Christmas 1) can be viewed here.