Advent 3 – Sunday 13th December, 2020

As we go through the Scripture readings the Church sets for Advent, we read from and about three main characters. We read from the prophecies of Isaiah who’s regarded as the prophet of the Advent. We read about the Blessed Virgin Mary who, of course, was chosen by God to be the mother of Christ. And we read about John the Baptist who was the forerunner, the one sent by God to prepare the way for Christ. Today, in fact, we hear from or about all three of them, but in particular today we hear about John the Baptist.

There’s no doubt that John is a very important figure in the Advent story, and in the story of our salvation, generally. But, having said that, he’s very much overshadowed by other people we read about in the Scriptures, isn’t he? If we think about the names we give to churches when they’re dedicated for worship, for example, we can probably think of lots that are dedicated to the evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. We can probably think of lots dedicated to Saints Peter or Paul. We can probably think too of lots that are dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary. In fact, we can probably think of lots of churches that are dedicated to lots of different saints, many of whom we don’t even read about in the Scriptures. But how many can we think of that are dedicated to John the Baptist? Probably not very many, if any at all, and I think that’s a great shame.

One of the things we often say about the saints is that they’re examples to us of how to live good, Christian lives, and probably the greatest example of that, is the Blessed Virgin Mary. She’s often held up as an example to Christians of obedience and faithfulness to God and Christ. There’s no doubt that Mary is an example of those things, but so is John the Baptist and yet he’s hardly ever, if ever, spoken of as someone who’s example we should follow. But actually, John is a great example to us. He’s someone whose story we should study and think about more than we perhaps do. He’s someone whose life and example we should take far more seriously that we perhaps do. And he’s someone whom I think, the Church should make a lot more fuss about than they usually do. So, this morning, as we read about John in the Gospel, let’s do just that, and think about John’s life and the example he’s set for us.

John’s father was Zechariah and Zechariah, was a priest. So John was born into a priestly family, and that means he was born into a relatively well-to-do family. He might not have been born into the ruling elite of Jewish society, but he was born into a family that would have had quite a high standard of living, much higher than most people could have hoped for. But John chose to give up his nice, comfortable life of relative luxury, his fine clothes, good food and nice house, to go and live in the wilderness, to wear animal skins and eat locusts and honey, and all so that he could preach and baptise in readiness for the coming of Christ. And, in a society, and a Church, in which wealth and possessions and status are often regarded as so important, if not the be-all-and-end-all, isn’t that’s an example to us today? John’s example to us is that, like him, we should care more about doing what God wants us to do than we do about wealth, possessions, status and the creature comforts we all surround ourselves with.

The life John chose, eventually led him to a prison cell and an early death. But then, in those days, and many other days too, openly criticising a king was quite likely to turn out badly for the one doing the criticising. But that didn’t stop John from speaking out against the king’s wrongdoing. And isn’t that an example to us too? There are a lot of things that go on in the world today that aren’t in keeping with God’s law and Jesus’ teaching, but that’s always been the case in every age. But rather than speaking out against it, aren’t we often more likely to see, even the Church of today modifying its teachings to suit the world’s values and standards rather than calling the world to change and adopt God’s values and standards, as it’s called to do and should do? And how much more likely are we to see wrongdoing excused or extenuating circumstances pleaded, or simply a blind eye turned to it when it’s the rich and famous and powerful who are doing the wrong? John’s example is that we should have the courage to speak out against wrongdoing when we see it, regardless of who the wrongdoer is.

The life John chose also gained him great fame and popularity and it would have been quite understandable if John had allowed that to go to his head. It would have been understandable if the adulation of the crowds had made John think that he was a bit more important than he really was.

It would have been understandable if John had started to think that perhaps he was the Messiah, or to take advantage of his popularity by at least claiming that he was and acting as though he was, even if he didn’t really believe it. That’s something we see all too often in the world, and in the Church too, sadly, isn’t it? A bit of fame or popularity, and perhaps particularly a little power or authority, going to someone’s head and leading someone to think that they’re far more important than they really are. But, despite his popularity, and power too, of a sort, over people, John didn’t allow himself to become pumped-up and have an over-inflated opinion of himself. This morning’s Gospel tells us that he denied every title people tried to thrust on him. No, he was not the Christ, he was not Elijah and he was not the Prophet. He was simply a messenger, preparing the way for someone far greater, whose sandal straps he wasn’t even worthy to undo, who was going to come after him. And so John is an example of humility to us. And he’s an example of the purpose of our humility as Christians too.

One of the ways the Blessed Virgin Mary is said to be an example to us, is that her obedience and faithfulness points our attention, not to Mary herself, but to her son, to Christ. And, in fact, if you look at images, paintings, icons or statues of Mary and the Christ-child, she’s very often portrayed pointing to Christ. And we can say the same thing about John too. As we read in the Gospel this morning, John’s humility in refusing honour and titles points us to the one who comes after him, John directs our attention away from himself, towards Christ. So, just like Mary, John points us to Christ. And that is an example that we should always follow as Christians. Whatever we do as Christians, whatever we do in the Church, no matter how popular what we do might make us, no matter how much authority were granted, none of that should ever be about us. None of it should ever be done to draw attention to ourselves. It should only ever be done to point beyond us to the one in whose name we do it. Whatever we do should point other people to Christ.

So John is an example to us, and his example is one we should follow. And John’s example is one we need to follow too. We need to follow John’s example because, in a sense, we share his ministry.

We’re not called to prepare people for Christ’s earthly ministry, of course, but we are called to prepare people to meet Christ. We’re called to prepare people to meet him in the Scriptures and the sacraments of the Church. We’re called to prepare people to meet him in prayer. We’re called to prepare people to meet him in other people. We’re called to prepare people to meet him in the power of the Holy Spirit in their daily lives. And we’re called to prepare people to meet him at the end of their earthly lives when they, and we, all will meet him as our judge. But we’ll only be able to do those things if we’ve followed something of John’s example.

We won’t prepare people to meet Christ if we put earthly things before spiritual things because then people will think that’s what God wants us to do. We won’t prepare people to meet Christ if we excuse or turn a blind eye to wrongdoing because then people will think it doesn’t really matter what we do in our lives. And we won’t prepare people to meet Christ if we’re full of our own importance because then people will be looking at us and not for Christ, or at Christ.

So let’s try to give John a little more thought than perhaps we do now and think a bit more about just what a fine example he set for us. And let’s try to make our lives and examples, a bit more like his.

Amen. 


You will find the Propers for Advent 3 here.

Advent 2 – Sunday 6th December, 2020

Propers for Advent 2

Entrance Antiphon
People of Zion, the Lord will come to save all nations,
and you hearts will exult to hear his majestic voice.

The Collect
O Lord, raise up, we pray, your power and come among us,
and with great might succour us;
that whereas, through our sins and wickedness
we are grievously hindered in running the race that is set before us,
your bountiful grace and mercy may speedily help and deliver us;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
to whom with you and the Holy Spirit,
be honour and glory, now and for ever.
Amen

The Readings
Missal (St Mark’s)       Isaiah 40:1-5, 9-11
                                  Psalm 85
                                  2 Peter 3:8-14
                                  Mark 1:1-8

RCL (St Gabriel’s)        Isaiah 40:1-11
                                  Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13
                                  2 Peter 3:8-15a
                                  Mark 1:1-8

Advent 1 – Sunday 29th November, 2020

The Gospel reading for today in the Missal, which we use at St Mark’s, is different from that in the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL), which we use at St Gabriel’s, the reading in the Missal being several verses shorter than that in the RCL. So, in order to harmonise the Gospel readings for the purpose of today’s sermon, the longer reading is printed below so that it can be read by everyone before moving on to the sermon.

Mark 13:24-37

24 “But in those days, after that tribulation, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, 25 and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. 26 And then they will see the Son of Man coming in clouds with great power and glory. 27 And then he will send out the angels and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.

28 “From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts out its leaves, you know that summer is near. 29 So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. 30 Truly, I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things take place. 31 Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.

32 “But concerning that day or that hour, no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 33 Be on guard, keep awake. For you do not know when the time will come. 34 It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his servants in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to stay awake. 35 Therefore stay awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or when the cock crows, or in the morning— 36 lest he come suddenly and find you asleep. 37 And what I say to you I say to all: Stay awake.”

Sermon
In the years before I was ordained, I was part of a group of people, from various parishes in the area where I lived, who used to meet quite regularly for Discussion Groups and Bible Studies. One of the Bible Studies we did was on the Gospel of St Mark and I always remember the meeting when we looked at the passage from St Mark’s Gospel from which this morning’s Gospel reading is taken. The person who was leading the study was a Licensed Reader from a local parish, and the reason I remember this session of the Bible Study so well, is because I’ve never forgotten what they said about the verses that make up our Gospel reading today. What they said was that they really didn’t like this part of the Bible at all and, if there was one part of the Bible they could do away with, it was this bit. And that was because this is the part where Jesus lies to his disciples!

This Gospel reading is part of a longer discourse in which Jesus speaks about the ‘End Times’. He starts by speaking about the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem and then, in answer to questions from Peter, James, John and Andrew, he goes on to speak about the signs that will herald the end, and herald his return ‘with great power and glory’.  During this discourse, Jesus says,

“Truly, I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things take place.”

This is usually taken to mean that Jesus’ own generation, his disciples and other contemporaries, would live to see all these things happen. But they died a long time ago, and these things have still not happened yet. That makes these words of Jesus quite difficult for us to understand. And it was these words that led the Reader who led our Bible Study that night to conclude that Jesus must have been lying to his disciples when he said this. What other explanation was there?

But, if we go down the route of thinking that Jesus must have been lying, because what he said doesn’t seem to be right or to make sense, we could easily find ourselves on a very slippery slope indeed. If we think that, for whatever reason, Jesus lied when he spoke these words to his disciples, or alternatively, try to get round that problem by saying Jesus never really said them, where does that line of thinking end? If we think Jesus lied here, how do we know he wasn’t lying elsewhere? We might then look at other things that Jesus said that we find difficult to understand, or believe, and decide he was lying then too.  And if we start to think that we can’t really believe Jesus’ words, might we not also then start to look at what he did, and wonder just how much of that is true as well? In fact, if we go down this road, of only believing Jesus when we can fully understand what he said and meant and did, or if we don’t fully understand at least prove what he said and did is true, we might easily find ourselves wondering whether any of his words are true and if anything we read about him in the Gospels really happened. That is the end, or at least the beginning of the end, of trust in Jesus, and of hope in him too. It’s the end, or at least the beginning of the end, of faith.

We have to accept that some of things we read in the Bible, including some of Jesus’ words, not to mention the miracles he performed, are hard to understand. And because we don’t understand them, we might even find some of these things difficult to believe at times. But we always have to remember that we’re neither asked nor expected know and understand these things fully, but to have faith, to believe and trust even when we don’t know and don’t really understand. As St Paul says in his 1st Letter to the Corinthians,

For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.

And we see this in today’s Gospel when Jesus himself openly admits that there are some things that even he doesn’t know.

After telling his disciples about the signs that will herald the end, Jesus quite openly says,

“But concerning that day or that hour, no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”

And if there are things concerning the Father that even Jesus, the Son of God, doesn’t know, how can we expect to know and understand everything? If Jesus didn’t know everything, why should we think we ought to be able to know and understand everything? If Jesus didn’t know everything, why should we think that anything we can’t understand, must be wrong, or can’t have happened, or must be a lie? But many people, including many in the Church, do seem to think in this way.

A problem that I think we all have, even as Christians, in modern times, is that we’re all children of the Enlightenment. As I’m sure many of you will know, the Enlightenment was a movement that arose in Europe during the 17th and 18th Centuries that championed human reason as the means to understand the universe and improve the human condition. It led to the ascendency of a worldview based on science and provable scientific facts over a worldview based on Christianity and faith in God. Many of the Enlightenment’s high ideals about human beings, such as their inexorable progress through the application of reason and science have now been discredited, but the primacy of science over religion is still with us. It’s been with us for a long time and so it surrounds us and influences us from our very earliest days of life. We grow up being taught that every question has an answer and must be, and eventually will be, answered. And so we grow up thinking that we, either personally or as human beings generally, can and will answer every question if we think about it long enough and hard enough. And because we’re brought up under the influence of that scientific worldview from our earliest days, it becomes part of who we, even if we don’t realise it. And that can make us very mistrustful or dismissive of anything that can’t be answered or that we don’t understand. In my experience, that seems to lie behind the thinking of many people who believe in conspiracy theories.

Unfortunately, because it’s become part of who we all are, many people in the Church have, perhaps without realising it, allowed the prevailing and all-pervading scientific worldview to undermine their faith, or to take precedence over their faith. And so we have the ‘God of the Gaps’ Christians, those who believe that, where science seems to contradict their faith, it’s their faith that’s wrong. And, as science seems to contradict more and more of their faith, the space for God is reduced to the gaps in scientific knowledge where faith can still exist without contradiction by science. We have Christians who simply dismiss parts of their faith because they seem to go against human reason. Christians who dismiss parts of their faith because they don’t understand them. Christians who dismiss parts of their faith for these reasons because these things lead them to think that their faith, or at least parts of it, can’t be true.   

But science is concerned with observable, provable facts and, as the Letter to the Hebrews says

“faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” 

And so simply because we don’t understand something or it seems to go against human reason, we shouldn’t dismiss it as impossible, unbelievable, or a lie. That the end hasn’t come yet, for example, doesn’t mean that Jesus was lying to his disciples when he said ‘this generation’ would see it, and neither does it mean he didn’t really say that at all.   

In his admission that only the Father knows when the end will come, Jesus points us to some very important things that we always need to bear in mind when we read Jesus words, or indeed, the Scriptures generally. When Jesus said that ‘this generation’ will not pass away before they see the signs of the end times, he can’t have been speaking simply about his disciples and contemporaries: he can’t have simply meant that those who were living on earth at that time would see all these things happen. How could he have meant that if he didn’t know when it would happen? This tells us that we can’t ‘cherry pick’ the Scriptures, or Jesus’ words. We can’t pick and choose which bits to believe and which bits to dismiss as unbelievable, or even lies. We have to take them as a whole if we even hope to understand them.

So, when Jesus spoke about ‘this generation’, he must have meant something other than simply those who were alive then. In the Scriptures, ‘generation’ can mean a type of people who share a quality or characteristic, so he may have meant his disciples would see these things, but not necessarily those he was speaking to at the time. He may have meant his disciples whoever they might be at the time these signs occur.

Jesus also said that he would

“gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.”

So by ‘this generation’ he could have indeed have meant those he was speaking to and others who were living at the time, as the term is generally taken to mean, but he may have meant that they will see these things from heaven. That wouldn’t contradict Jesus’ statement that these things would happen before that generation passed away.

In the Scriptures too, ‘generation’ can also apply to a race of people. So Jesus may have been speaking about his own race, the Jews, implying that, whatever happens in the meantime, including the destruction of the Temple, the Jews will see these things, whenever they happen.

The truth is, whilst we assume that Jesus’ disciples knew what he meant by ‘this generation’, now, 2000 years later, we simply don’t know exactly what he meant. But that doesn’t mean we can’t believe what he said. What it does mean is that, if we don’t understand something, it might be our understanding that’s at fault, not the words we’re reading that are untrue, and not our faith that’s misplaced.

Today, we begin the season of Advent, and so we’re once more called to stay awake and watch for the Lord’s coming. We don’t know when that will be, only God our Father knows that. But we have Jesus’ word that he will come and, because we don’t know when that will be, if we’re going to be ready to meet him when he comes, we have to be ready at all times. But we’ll only be ready at all times if we’ve taken Jesus’ words seriously and acted on them. And we won’t do that by going through his words to see if we can understand them and then picking and choosing what to believe and what not to believe. If we’re going to be ready to meet the Lord when he comes, we need to have faith that all his words are true and worthy of our trust and obedience, whether we fully understand them or not.

Amen.


You will find the Propers for Advent 1 here.