Sermon for the 5th Sunday of Ordinary Time (4th Sunday before Lent) 6th February 2022

Photo by Patricia McCarty on Pexels.com

Over the 40 plus years I’ve now been going to church, I’ve made many friends in many places and in a number of different churches. Unfortunately, I’ve lost touch with many of those friends over the years, partly because I’ve moved around from place to place, but also because many of them have died. One of the latter, and one of the best friends I’ve made over those years, was a man called Mike. Mike was an ex-paratrooper and a very straightforward and plain-speaking kind of man, and because of his plain-speaking ways, he was one of those characters whom people either liked or didn’t, and there wasn’t really any in between. And many people didn’t like him, including quite a few those who were members of the church we went to.

Because of his character, one of the things Mike really didn’t have any time for at all was hypocrisy, and, also because of his character, he had no qualms whatsoever in speaking up about hypocrisy when he saw it, and that included when he saw it amongst the members of our parish congregation. As you can imagine, that didn’t make Mike universally popular, in fact I know there were a number of people at the church who’d have been very happy to see the back of him. And from time to time, they got their wish because, from time to time, Mike would decide he’d had enough of ‘being part of hypocrisy’ as he put it, and would take a break from the church.

As I’ve said, Mike and I were friends so we’d still meet up during the times he was absent from church, but during those times, we had many conversations about this problem, the very real problem of hypocrisy in the Church and of how we should respond to it. My argument was that we shouldn’t let the hypocrisy of other people damage our personal relationship with God. Going to church was part of our response to our faith in God and in his Son Jesus Christ and at that level, of our personal response to faith, it really doesn’t matter that other people are hypocrites, in fact at that level, it doesn’t matter if everyone else who goes to church is a hypocrite. At that level of personal response to faith, what matters is what we ourselves do; even if everyone else who goes to church is a hypocrite, that doesn’t mean we’re a hypocrite too, and it doesn’t mean we have to be one either.

That argument was usually enough to bring Mike back to church eventually, but it’s an undeniable fact that many, many people have left that Church, permanently, because of the hypocrisy of some members of the Church. It’s an undeniable fact that many, many people are put off the Church, and not only the Church but the Christian faith too, by the hypocrisy of Church members. And in a wider context, it’s an undeniable fact that many people are either turned away from faith or lose the faith they once had by the evil and suffering they see in the world. This has always been a problem for the Church, but I think what’s making this all the more of a problem these days is that the Church itself doesn’t only seem to expect this kind of thinking now, but seems to be almost condoning it in, of all people, the clergy.

I was reminded of this a few weeks ago when reports surfaced that the Archbishop of Canterbury had questioned the existence of God because of the problems and trouble he sees going on in the world. And I was reminded of it again just a few days ago when I was doing some preparatory work for the clergy safeguarding training which we all have to do from time to time, and which I’ll have to do over the next couple of weeks. Part of the work was listening to an online presentation about abuse, and this included some reports the cases of abuse that have taken place in the Church. One of the questions we were asked to think about was how these things have challenged our faith.

I must admit, I find that quite a puzzling question. My faith is in God and in his Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. My faith is not in any human being or institution, so why should the fact that some people who claim to hold the same faith as me, and yet have acted in ways that are abhorrent to the God I believe in, and in ways that are contrary to the teaching and example of the Lord and Saviour I believe in, challenge my faith? Why should the hypocrisy of some people in the Church, make me doubt God and doubt Christ? Did God abuse those concerned, or did un-Godly, hypocritical human beings abuse them? Did Christ tell his disciples to abuse others, or have un-Christian hypocrites who claim to be his disciples abused them in complete disobedience to Christ’s teaching and with no regard to or for his example? It’s the latter in both cases surely? So whilst these things may cause us to lose faith in human beings, and in some of those in the Church to live out the faith they profess, and whilst they may cause us to lose faith in the Church as an institution which has knowingly allowed these things to go on, and tried to cover them up, to save it’s own reputation, regardless of the cost to the victims, why should these things challenge our faith in God and Christ? Surely what is and should be in question is not our faith in a God and his Christ who tell us these things shouldn’t happen, but the faith, character and conduct of those human beings who’ve done these things anyway.

In his Letter to the Ephesians, St Pauls writes that God

‘…gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes. Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ…’

Yet it seems that today, the Church actually expects even those who lead the Church to be tossed to and fro by the tumult of the waves; to question the very faith that we’re called to grow in and live by, on account of every wind of change, or example of human cunning, craftiness and deceit that we hear about. Is it any wonder then, that the Church is not growing?

This morning, in our readings, we heard three stories about faith. We heard about Isaiah’s commission as a prophet. We often call Isaiah THE prophet of Advent because he foretold the Messiah’s birth. And we find prophecies of the Messiah’s suffering and death for our salvation in Isaiah too, in those parts of his prophecy that we know as the Song of the Suffering Servant. As a prophet, Isaiah spoke out against the sins and faithlessness of the people and called them back to God so that they might be saved and, like all prophets, Isaiah suffered because his message. But does that fact that people were sinful and chose to remain sinful rather than heed Isaiah’s warning mean that we should doubt his message was from God? As Christians we believe that Isaiah’s prophecies have been fulfilled but if other people don’t, or act as though they don’t, does that mean we should start to doubt them too? Does the fact that some people don’t believe in Jesus, or say they do whilst acting as if they don’t, mean that we also have to doubt him, his Incarnation, his message and ministry, his death for our salvation, and his Resurrection which promises us eternal life? Surely not.

In our reading from his First Letter to the Corinthians, St Paul says:

‘I would remind you, brothers, of the gospel I preached to you, which you received, in which you stand, and by which you are being saved, if you hold fast to the word I preached to you—unless you believed in vain.’

So why then should the Church today be asking us, if not actually expecting us, to doubt the Gospel? Because that is what the Church is doing if it’s asking or expecting us to question our faith. Why should we doubt the Gospel in which we stand and believe, and by which we’re being saved because of the evil of some people who don’t believe and so who don’t stand in or live by the Gospel?

Why should we question the means of our salvation because of the actions of those who are condemning themselves by their unbelief?

And in the Gospel, we heard the story of the great catch of fish. The meaning of the story is that, if we’re willing to do what Jesus tells us to do, we will draw people to faith, we will be fishers of men. But it’s us who have faith who are called to bring those who don’t have it, to faith. We’re not called to doubt and question our own faith because of the evil that men do, because of the un-Godly, un-Christian or hypocritical actions of the unfaithful. And if we do, then rather than us being fishers of men, we’ll be in danger of becoming the ones being fished. Rather than us dragging the unfaithful to life in Christ, we’ll be the ones who end up caught in their net, the net of the unfaithful, and we’ll be the ones in danger of being dragged away from Christ, and life, to death.

From a number of conversations I’ve had in recent years, I’m sure that by constantly asking and expecting us to question our faith in the light of the evil and suffering in the world, the Church thinks it’s helping us to ‘identify with the brokenness of the world’; that’s I phrase I’ve heard quite a lot of in recent times. But we’re already part of the brokenness of the world by virtue of the fact that we’re human beings who live in it. As Christians we’re called to help the world find a better way, a way to heal it’s brokenness. But how can we do that if we constantly, and publicly call into the question the very thing that we have to offer, our faith in a God who loves us come what may and in a Saviour who taught us that better way and who gave his life for us so that we might have eternal life?

We have a better way, and we can have eternal life, every single human being can have these things, but the price of these things is faith in the God and his Christ who offers them to us. So before we start to doubt and question our faith, let’s remember who it is who does the evil and causes the suffering in the world. It’s not God, it’s us, human beings. So why should we question and doubt him for what we ourselves have done and caused. It’s not Jesus who tells people to be evil and cause suffering, it’s us, human beings who do that against his wishes. So why should we question and doubt him because we can’t follow his teaching and example. So let’s remember that and remain faithful before we allow ourselves to be ‘tossed to and fro by the waves’ of the sinful actions of human beings and find that what we once believed was in vain because we’ve allowed others to catch us in their net, and drag us away from it.

Amen.


The Propers for the 5th Sunday of Ordinary Time (4th before Lent) can be viewed here.

Sermon for the 4th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Epiphany 4) 30th January 2022

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

When I left school, I applied for, and got, a job in the lift industry. In one sense I was fortunate to get that job because, at the time, the company concerned had a policy of prioritising job applications from the children of people whom they already employed. Having said that, I wasn’t the only son of a current employee of the company who applied for the job, so my success in getting the job wasn’t simply a case nepotism.

So the fact that my dad worked for the company I’d applied for a job with certainly helped me to get the job. And it certainly helped when I finished my apprenticeship and had to go out on breakdowns myself, to have a dad whom I could ask for advice and help with technical problems. But, as time went by, the fact that my dad did, and then later had, worked for the same company became more of a hinderance than a help. By the time I was in my late 20s, and by then my dad had retired; despite the fact that by that time I’d achieved a good reputation as a lift engineer not only on service and repairs, as my dad had before me, but also on installations, which my dad had never worked on, despite the fact that I’d had a promotion in the company’s service/repair department, that I’d achieved their ‘Gold Standard Award’ for installation work, and  been a Charge Hand on installation sites, to a lot of people I worked with, including the vast majority of the management at the branch office, I was still known as, and usually called, ‘Young Smithy’ and still known to them as ‘Ricky’s Son’. In the end, despite the fact that, on the whole, I enjoyed the job I did, and the company was one of the highest paying in the industry, one of the main reasons I left was that I felt I was never going to get anywhere with a company who, after employing me for 14 years, still saw me primarily as a young kid, and as someone’s son.

I don’t know how many of you have had similar experiences to mine, but any of us who have had that kind of experience will have a very good insight into a problem Jesus had in trying to proclaim the Gospel. It’s the problem we heard about this morning, the problem of making those who know us well, and perhaps especially those who’ve known us as children or young people, from taking us seriously because they find it hard to see us as anything but children and youngsters and who tend to see us less as people in our own right than as someone’s son or daughter.

We know that this is a problem Jesus had in proclaiming the Gospel in his hometown and amongst those who knew him and his family because we read about in the Gospels more than once. This morning we’re told that,

‘…all spoke well of him and marvelled at the gracious words that were coming from his mouth. And they said, “Is not this Joseph’s son?”’

But the Gospel goes on to say that by the time Jesus had finished speaking,

‘…all in the synagogue were filled with wrath.  And they rose up and drove him out of the town and brought him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they could throw him down the cliff.’

In his Gospel, St Matthew tells the same story of Jesus’ rejection at Nazareth, but in a different way. He says,

‘…coming to his hometown he taught them in their synagogue, so that they were astonished, and said, “Where did this man get this wisdom and these mighty works? Is not this the carpenter’s son? Is not his mother called Mary? And are not his brothers James and Joseph and Simon and Judas? And are not all his sisters with us? Where then did this man get all these things?” And they took offence at him.’

And in his Gospel, St John tells of a similar thing that happened at Capernaum:

‘…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 Gospels don’t really leave us in any doubt that one of the reasons some people found it hard to believe in Jesus, is that they knew him and his family. The Gospels don’t put it in these terms, but I think many of these people would have heard Jesus speak and teach and thought, ‘Who does he think he is? We know him, he’s just a carpenters son!’ And the Gospels don’t leave us in any doubt either that this attitude and the lack of faith it caused was a major stumbling block to Jesus’ mission and ministry in his hometown and amongst the people who knew him and his family. And we’re told that Jesus couldn’t do in his hometown and amongst those who knew him, the things he did elsewhere. So it was a problem Jesus wasn’t really able to overcome.

But if it was a problem for Jesus, and one he wasn’t able to overcome, how much more of a problem is it for us to proclaim the Gospel in our hometowns and amongst the people who know us so well? Jesus was sinless and so at least he couldn’t be accused of hypocrisy. But we’re not sinless and we very often are accused of hypocrisy, and most easily by those with and amongst whom we live and who know us and our faults and failings so well. And yet isn’t that exactly what the Church asks us to do? At this very time, the Church is asking us to be a living, witnessing presence in the heart of every community, and what is that other than asking Christians to proclaim the Gospel in the place where they live and to the people who live there and who know them well?

This is nothing new, of course, it’s something the Church has always expected its members to do. The Church has always asked and expected its members to live out in their daily lives the faith they proclaim in church on Sunday. The Church has also expected its members to be open about their faith, to let those they meet during their daily lives know that they’re Christians, rather than to hide it. And that Church has expected its members to do all these things because it’s what Jesus himself said his disciples should do. So how do we do something that Jesus himself found to be such a problem?

Well, in one sense, proclaiming the Gospel isn’t such a hard thing to do because it’s easy to say that we’re Christians and that we come to church. It’s also easy to tell people what Jesus taught, to tell people the kind of lives Jesus said we should live. The only difficult thing about doing that is putting up with the abuse we might get for doing it, whether that’s from the secular atheists, who argue that science has all the answers and religion is for stupid people who don’t understand the science, or from those who simply want to rant about the hypocrisy of the Church, or organised religion generally. (Actually, for the vast majority of people, science itself is a religion because the vast majority don’t understand the science but simply put their trust, their faith, in what scientists tell them. And whilst organised religion may well be hypocritical, that has nothing to do with faith itself. That some people who call themselves Christians, for example, don’t follow the teachings of Jesus doesn’t mean that Jesus’ teaching is wrong, that it isn’t to be trusted or believed in. It just means that the people concerned are not really Christians, or at least, not very good Christians.)

So, if we can put up with that kind of abuse, and better still are able to counter it with arguments of our own, proclaiming the Gospel isn’t hard, at least in general terms. What is hard is proclaiming the Gospel to those who know us well because if they accuse us of hypocrisy, it will probably be because we have been hypocritical, and they know we have because they know us. And there’s really only one way to counter that; don’t be a hypocrite. And if we are being one, stop, and don’t be one anymore.

Whoever we proclaim the Gospel to, there’s no guarantee that they’ll listen to us and even if they do, there’s no guarantee that they’ll take what we say to heart and become Christians themselves. But we shouldn’t feel as though we’ve failed if they don’t because even Jesus couldn’t convince everyone to become his disciple. What we’re called to do is to proclaim the Gospel, to sow the seed as the parable says. Whether the seed takes root or not, whether it produces fruit in the form of a new disciple of Christ depends on many other things apart from the sower. Where we, as sowers of the Word can, and will, have more of an influence on the outcome is when we proclaim the Gospel to those with and amongst whom we live and amongst those who know us best because those people will look at us to see how well we live up to the Gospel we proclaim.

That is a hard thing to do because none of us ever live out the faith we proclaim as well as we should. But perhaps more importantly, we don’t live out our faith as well as we could. If we did live out the Gospel as well as we could, if we lived out the Gospel to the very best of our ability, then we’ll be doing all we could do to be the living witnesses to the Gospel in our own communities the Church is asking us to be. There’s still no guarantee that we’ll make new disciples for Christ because even Jesus couldn’t do that in his hometown and amongst those who knew him. But the Gospels tell us that wasn’t seen as a failure on Jesus’ part but was because of their lack of faith.

We’re called to be like Jesus, not to be better than him, if that were actually possible, so if Jesus couldn’t make new disciples in his hometown and amongst those who knew him, there’s no reason to think we’ll fare any better. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try, as hard as it is, because Jesus tried. And if we can do as he did, we’ll have done all we can, we’ll have done our best and I’m sure the Lord doesn’t ask us to do more than that.

Amen.


The Propers for the 4th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Epiphany 4) can be viewed here.

Propers for the 3rd Sunday of Ordinary Time (Epiphany 3) 23rd January 2022

Entrance Antiphon

Sing a new song to the Lord!
Sing to the Lord, all the earth.
Truth and beauty surround him, he lives in holiness and glory.

The Collect

Almighty God,
whose Son revealed in signs and miracles the wonder of your saving presence:
renew your people with your heavenly grace,
and in all our weakness,
sustain us by your mighty power;
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)          Nehemiah 8:1-6, 8-10
                                    Psalm: 19:8-10, 15
                                    1 Corinthians 12:12-30
                                    Luke 1:1-4, 4:14-21

RCL (St Gabriel’s)          Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10
                                    Psalm: 19
                                    1 Corinthians 12:12-31
                                    Luke 4:14-21