Sermon for Ash Wednesday 2nd March 2022

One of the things I’ve spoken about in the past is my fondness for going into schools to lead assemblies and worship for children. One of the things I like best about doing that is listening to the things that children say and trying to answer the questions they ask. Sometimes those questions are completely unexpected, often because they don’t seem to have anything to do with what I’ve been talking about.  Such as was the case, not too long ago, when a very young child asked, “Fr Stephen, why do you look like God?” and after I’d said something about us all being made in the image and likeness of God, he then asked, “So are you and God twins?” Sometimes, their questions are unexpected because they go off at tangents to the subject I’ve been talking about, such as the time when I was talking about king Herod’s plot to kill the baby Jesus, and I was asked “Fr Stephen, how old was Hitler?”

Sometimes the questions children ask display a level of understanding that’s quite surprising, but at other times they display the innocence and naivety you might expect from young children. But, on the basis that the only silly question is the one that isn’t asked and that we never learn anything if we don’t ask, I always answer children’s questions, however bizarre they might seem to be. I always try to do that too because I remember that, as a young child, I was always asking questions and I asked them because I wanted to know that answers. And I do remember once asking my mum a very innocent, childlike question about today, Ash Wednesday. The question was this. “Mum, if we eat pancakes on pancake Tuesday, why don’t we have potato hash on Ash Wednesday?” I honestly can’t remember the exact answer I got except that it was something about the kind of ash that’s meant on Ash Wednesday not being the kind of hash that we eat so I did learn something, but it wasn’t until a long time afterwards that I realised what the ash in Ash Wednesday is really about.

As I’m sure we all know, Ash Wednesday gets it’s name from the biblical practice of people wearing sackcloth and either sitting in ashes or putting ashes on their heads as a sign of sorrow and mourning, and perhaps especially as a sign of repentance for sin. So, we read in the Book of Daniel that, when he prays for forgiveness for the sinfulness of Jerusalem, Daniel says,

“…I turned my face to the Lord God, seeking him by prayer and pleas for mercy with fasting and sackcloth and ashes.” 

Or again, we read in the Book of Jonah that, when Jonah finally goes to the city of Nineveh and calls them to turn from their evil ways, the people of Nineveh,

‘…believed God. They called for a fast and put on sackcloth, from the greatest of them to the least of them. The word reached the king of Nineveh, and he arose from his throne, removed his robe, covered himself with sackcloth, and sat in ashes.’

And we find it too in the teaching of Jesus when he speaks about the lack of repentance he finds amongst the people in the towns and cities where he’d performed miracles:

“Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the mighty works done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes.” 

So the ash referred to in Ash Wednesday is this kind of ash, the ash that represents our sorrow for the sins we’ve committed and a sign of our repentance of those sins. These days of course, we don’t wear sackcloth and we don’t sit in ashes to show these things, but we do we begin the season of Lent, the most penitential season of the Church’s year, the season when we’re called to think about our sins and make a real, determined effort to repent of them, to turn from them permanently, by being marked on our foreheads with the sign of the Cross, in ash, on Ash Wednesday. But, unless we’re going to make Ash Wednesday the start of that real, determined effort to repent and turn permanently from our sins, then rather than having our foreheads marked with the sign of the Cross in ash today, we might just as well make Ash Wednesday a day for eating potato hash.

The usual way for people in the Church to keep Lent is, as you know, by taking on some kind of Lenten discipline, either giving something up for Lent, or taking something on for Lent. That’s fine. But we always have to remember what the purpose of a Lenten discipline is. A Lenten discipline is supposed to help us to become better Christians, and not just better Christians for the 40 days of Lent, but better Christians always from the time we take on that discipline.

So, if we give something up for Lent, ideally, we should give up something that’s holding us back from being better Christians.  And if we do give up something for Lent that’s holding us back in our Christian discipleship, we should make Lent the time when we resolve give it up for good. But isn’t it true that when we do give things up for Lent, we do just that; give them up for Lent and then take them up again at Easter? It’s also true that when people give something up for Lent, many of them don’t even really do that because many people, encouraged by the clergy it must be said, say that as Sunday’s are a feast day, they’re days when we don’t have to keep our Lenten discipline. So they have a day off on Sundays. But the 40 days of Lent are intended to mirror our Lord’s 40 days and nights in the wilderness, and we don’t read that he went back home or into town for a day off on the Sabbath, so why should his disciples, which is what we are, think is OK for us to have one day a week off during Lent?  And isn’t it also true that what we give up very often has nothing to do with becoming better Christians but is to do with our physical health and earthly wealth? How many people do you know who have or do give up things like beer, chocolate, cigarettes, crisps and chips for Lent? If that’s all our Lenten discipline is about then we might just as well give up marking the start of Lent by putting ash on our foreheads and take up eating potato hash on Ash Wednesday instead.

And if we take something on for Lent, again, it should be something that’s going to help us to become better Christians, and we should do it with the purpose of making it a permanent addition to our lives, not just something we do for a few weeks before Easter. But how many people use Lent take up things that are of personal rather than spiritual interest or benefit? How many people do you know who’ve taken up daily exercise as a Lenten discipline? There’s nothing wrong with improving our health but a Lenten discipline should be about our spiritual health, not just our physical health. How many people have you known who’ve used Lent as a time to take up a new hobby or pastime? There’s nothing wrong with taking up hobbies either, in fact, it’s a very beneficial thing to do. But again, a Lenten discipline shouldn’t be about making time to do something we want to do or something we simply like doing, it should be about benefitting us in a spiritual sense and very often that means taking on something we find hard to do, perhaps even something that, at times, we don’t really want to do. The clue is in the name, it’s a Lenten discipline, not a Lenten hobby. And a Lenten discipline should be something we take on with the aim of carrying it on beyond Easter.

Over the years I’ve had a number of people ask me to suggest some Bible reading they could do during Lent. When I’ve been asked to do that, I’ve always suggested something because it’s never a bad thing to read the Scriptures, but I’ve also suggested that rather than just reading the Bible during Lent and then not looking at it again until next Lent, a far better thing to do would be to use this Lent to make a start on reading the Bible every day throughout the year. Again if we’re going to take things on that don’t benefit us as Christians, things that don’t help us to be better disciples of Christ each and every day of our lives, we might as well take up eating potato hash for Lent.

I don’t know what you’ve all decided to do as your Lenten discipline this year, but I hope you have decided to do something. Having said that, although the season of Lent has begun again today, it’s not too late to think about your Lenten discipline again. To think about whether what you’re going to do really will help you to become a better Christian, not just for the next six and a half weeks, but each and every day throughout this and every year. To think about whether your Lenten discipline is about potato hash, or the ashes of sorrow for sin and the repentance that leads to eternal life.

Amen. 


The Propers for Ash Wednesday can be found here.

Propers for the 8th Sunday of Ordinary Time (next before Lent) 27th February 2022

Entrance Antiphon

The Lord has been my strength; he hassled me into freedom.
He saved me because he loved me.

The Collect

Almighty Father,
whose Son was revealed in majesty before he suffered death upon the cross:
give us grace to perceive his glory,
that we may be strengthened to suffer with him,
and be changed into his likeness, from glory to glory;
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)         Ecclesiasticus 27:4-7
                                   Psalm 92:2-3, 13-16
                                   1 Corinthians 15:54-58
                                   Luke 6:39-49

RCL (St Gabriel’s)         Exodus 34:29-35
                                   Psalm 99
                                   2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2
                                   Luke 9:28-43

Sermon for the 7th Sunday of Ordinary Time (2 before Lent) 20th February 2022

Photo by Jessica Lewis Creative on Pexels.com

One of the things I’ve spoken about in sermons from time to time is the belief that some people have, the very mistaken belief they have, that doing good works makes a person a Christian. I don’t know if any of you have ever spoken to someone who believes this, but I have, many times, over the years. People who say, and with great sincerity, that even though they never go to church and don’t really believe in God, they nevertheless consider themselves to be Christians because they’re ‘good’ people who never do anyone any harm. In fact I do remember once being told something along those lines by one person who said that he didn’t even believe that Jesus Christ ever really existed which, as Jesus repeatedly told his disciples that they must have faith in God and faith in him, shows, I think, a very strange understanding of what a Christian is.

But as strange as that may be, it’s a belief that’s not too dissimilar from another very curious belief about what being a Christian is that I’ve also come across many times, and in this case, even amongst the clergy; the belief that whatever a person might believe or whatever faith they profess, whether they’re atheists or profess and practice a religion other than Christianity, they are nevertheless, whether they realise it or not or want to accept it or not, Christians if they do good works; in particular, if they practice what the Church calls pastoral care of others. In my experience, the basis people have for this kind of belief is that they believe all pastoral care stems from the teaching and example of Jesus and so therefore, anyone who practices pastoral care is following Jesus’ teaching and example which, in turn, makes them a Christian.

But again, this is a mistaken belief. I think that people in the Church forget far too often and easily that Jesus was not a Christian; he was a Jew. His faith was based on what we call the Old Testament of the Bible. When Jesus quotes the Scriptures, or indeed when any of the authors of the New Testament speak about the Scriptures, it’s the Old Testament they’re speaking about. When they say that Jesus fulfilled the Scriptures, they mean the Old Testament Scriptures and when Jesus himself said that he came to fulfil the Scriptures, the law and the prophets, it was the Old Testament he was speaking about. So Jesus’ mission and ministry, the pastoral care he taught and practiced was of Jewish origin and it had been taught by the prophets of the Jewish faith and written in the Jewish Scriptures before Jesus came to earth. So, on that basis, rather than saying that all those who carry out pastoral care of others are Christians, we could, just as easily, say that they’re Jews. In fact, if we really wanted to, we could go back even further in time to look for the origins of pastoral care because many ancient civilisations practiced it. We now have evidence that even the Neanderthal people, people who were once thought of as nothing more than brutish cavemen, showed at least some degree pastoral care towards the sick and elderly of their kind.

So showing care and concern for others alone, doesn’t make people Christians. It might very well make those who show that kind of care and concern, good people, but it’s quite possible to be a good person without being a Christian. There are and have been many such people. We know there have been because we read about some of them in the Old Testament of the Bible. But if showing care and concern for others doesn’t make a person a Christian, what does? Quite simply it’s this; to believe in Jesus and in all he said. To believe that Jesus is the way, the truth and the life, so deeply that we do all he told us to do. That is what it means to call Jesus our Lord and Saviour and to live as though we really believe that. And a person can’t be a Christian unless they at least try to do that. As Jesus himself said, 

“Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord’, and not do what I tell you?”

And again,

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord’, will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.” 

And Jesus told us what the will of the Father is too when he said.

“For this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in him should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day.”

To be a Christian then, is to believe in Jesus Christ as our Lord and Saviour, and to do all he told us to do. There are, as we know, many people who do proclaim Jesus as their Lord and Saviour but, as we also know, the really difficult thing about being a Christian is living out that proclamation of faith by doing what Jesus told us to do. I’m sure we all try to do that, but it’s not easy and perhaps the single most difficult thing about being a Christian is putting into practice the things Jesus told us about forgiveness. 

In the Old Testament it’s invariably God who forgives the sins of the people, but in Jesus’ teaching people are called to mirror God’s forgiveness in their own lives by forgiving one another. At one time, it was thought that this was a teaching so novel, so unique to Jesus that, for example, in his poem The Everlasting Gospel, written around 1818, William Blake could write,

There is not one Moral Virtue that Jesus Inculcated but Plato & Cicero did Inculcate before him what then did Christ Inculcate. Forgiveness of Sins This alone is the Gospel & this is the Life & Immortality brought to light by Jesus.  

We now know that this understanding of forgiveness was already present in the Judaism of Jesus’ day but, nevertheless, forgiveness, both God’s forgiveness of sinners and our forgiveness of one another does lie at the heart of Jesus’ teaching. So one of the most important things we’re called to do, as Christians, something we really must do to be Christians, is to accept our own need of forgiveness and forgive the sins of others. But isn’t this teaching of Jesus, one that’s so essential to his message and ministry, the one that we find the hardest of all to carry out?

How many of us are really willing and able to see ourselves as sinners in need of forgiveness? How often do we try to hide our faults and failings behind excuses; it wasn’t really our fault; I only did it because someone else did this to me first; it’s only a little thing, and no one was hurt so it doesn’t really matter? How often do we try to divert attention from our own faults by pointing out the faults of others; I don’t know how they’ve got the nerve to call me after what they’ve done? How often do we claim that we never do anything wrong, or if we do, it’s nothing like and nowhere near so bad as the things others do? How often do we, in effect, point out the specks in other people’s eyes and ignore the logs in our own?

Forgiveness is really about wiping the slate clean; it’s about putting what’s past behind us and moving on without letting what’s happened in the past affect our future relationships with those whom we feel have hurt or wronged us in some way. But isn’t this something we find so difficult to do too? We’re all sinners in need of forgiveness but how often do we try to take the moral high ground in disputes; we’re right, they’re wrong? How often are we tempted to or actually do remind people of their faults and failings; of the things they’ve done wrong in the past? And how often do we get a sense of pleasure from doing that because it makes us feel good about ourselves and probably superior to them? We’re called to love our neighbours as much as we love ourselves, but can we honestly say that, if someone has hurt or wronged us, we don’t let that affect the way we treat them in the future? We are all sinners in need of forgiveness from God and from one another and yet how often are we unforgiving of others because we’re unwilling to see ourselves as doing or being wrong? In The Everlasting Gospel, William Blake wrote

‘If you forgive one another your Trespasses so shall Jehovah forgive you That he himself may dwell among you but if you Avenge you Murder the Divine Image & he cannot dwell among you…’

We believe that we’re made in the image and likeness of God and our forgiveness of one another is a mirror image God’s forgiveness of us. If we can’t or won’t forgive others, aren’t we doing exactly what Blake said – killing, murdering the divine image within us and preventing God, Christ and the Holy Spirit from dwelling within us? So, whatever else we may do that’s in keeping with Jesus teaching and example, if we can’t or won’t see ourselves as sinners in need of forgiveness, and/or can’t and won’t forgive others, how can we be or call ourselves Christians?

One day, we’ll all have to stand in front of Christ and give an account of ourselves. If we’ve called ourselves Christians, what will we say when we’re asked to give an account of how we showed that in our lives? If we’ve acclaimed Christ as our Lord and Saviour, what will we say when we’re asked how often and how well then, did we do what he told us to do? What will we say when we’re asked to account for our sins? Will we still try to plead our innocence and that we never did anything wrong? We won’t get away with that, but we’ll all want God to forgive us, so what will we be able to say about our own willingness and ability to be forgiving of others?

In 10 days’ time, we’ll celebrate Ash Wednesday and the start of the season of Lent. As we know, that’s a time for self-reflection and penitence in preparation for our Lord’s supreme sacrifice on the Cross, a sacrifice which was all about forgiveness; our forgiveness and even the forgiveness of those who plotted and caused his death, and for the great foundational event of our faith, his Resurrection on Easter Day. What better time could there be than to think about our own attitude towards forgiveness? What better time could there be for us to ask ourselves how willing and able we are to see ourselves as sinners in need of forgiveness and how willing and able we are to forgive others? What better time could there be to ask if we really are the Christians we claim to be, whether we’re people who simply call Jesus, Lord, or people who live as though we do truly believe that he is our Lord and Saviour and show it by doing all he told us to do?

There’s a lot more to being a Christian than many people seem to think, but whatever else we do, our willingness and ability to see our own need of forgiveness and to forgive others is perhaps a very good test of how well we really do live up to the name so perhaps it’s a test we should all take this Lent.

Amen.  


The Propers for the 7th Sunday of Ordinary Time (2nd before Lent) can be viewed here.