Showing posts with label Holy Spirit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holy Spirit. Show all posts

Sunday, 28 May 2023

Preaching Pentecost by John's Gospel Alone

 

Sermon. 28/05/2023 Pentecost

Gospel: John 20:19-23

 

We are here to mark on the Day of Pentecost, and to reflect on the gospel of the day. This immediately raises – if not a problem, then – an issue. For the gospel makes no mention of Pentecost at all. Indeed the word Pentecost is found nowhere, in any of the gospels.

 

We need to go back a stage. “Pentecost” comes from the Greek, meaning 50th, and in particular the 50th day after Passover, which brings us to the second of the three Harvest Festivals of Judaism. But this harvest festival takes on a new meaning in the story - not from the gospels but - from the Book of Acts. You know it, I think. There is a violent wind. There are tongues as of fire. Each tongue rests on one of the apostles. They speak new words, in new tongues. What could be more dramatic?

 

Today’s gospel is in some tension with this. It does describe an encounter with the risen Lord, on that first Easter Day. So, yes, it has a drama of its own. But! But what actually happens is: Jesus breathes. He breathes out. He breathes upon the apostles and says, in all simplicity: “Receive Holy Spirit”. And this Spirit is associated with the peace Jesus has already brought, and with a new pattern of forgiveness. Jesus breathes, breathes forgiveness,  and the capacity to forgive.

 

Do we have to choose between the two accounts of the coming of Holy Spirit? Surely we need both. We may long for – either boldly and publicly or secretly – long for the drama of the Day of Pentecost. And if we can’t have tongues of fire, then can we not have fire in our belly? If we can’t have tongues of fire, can we not have it so that our hearts burn within us. Such things are certainly part of the story of the Church. Such fiery and spirited passion is to be welcomed, always after testing.

 

But! But let us not forget the other story. The story that the Spirit comes from simple intimacy with Jesus. An intimacy with Jesus that is possible because his followers had gathered in one place. They wanted to be with each other. At least as much as any drama, we are to long for the closeness to Jesus that comes from feeling his breath on us. Feel his breath on us, so that we can receive some new gift from him. Feel his breath, so that we can bring forgiveness into the world.

 

I hope this speaks to you. But I am also aware – say it bluntly – that it may not speak to the people we long to reach out to, who have no connection with the story. They may say: “I can do forgiveness. Someone says sorry. I say that’s okay. We both move on. Why does it have to be more complicated with Gd?”

 

We need to be clear that forgiveness here isn’t a word of pardon. It isn’t any sort of transaction. Remember Jesus is with his friends, but his friends are the ones who have let him down. They fled. They let him die. And… not one of them has said sorry. It is even an open question if they feel guilt or shame. Yet Jesus is there, already there, fully there, reliably there, speaking peace. Because this forgiveness is not a pardon. It is Gd’s own determination to form a new community, one were recrimination – even justified recrimination – just has no place.

 

This is the divine forgiveness from the breath of Holy Spirit. This is for us, and it for us to help move and grow in the world. There’s something dramatic here – as dramatic as any wind, or any fire.

 

Amen.

 

Sunday, 4 December 2022

On the fierceness of the New Testament and the gentleness of the Old!

 

Sermon. 4/12/2022. Advent 2 (Year of Matthew)

Isaiah 11.1-10

Matthew 3.1-12

 

There is no football in this sermon.[1] I am not proud of this. I am not ashamed of this.

 

Here’s a thing that does involve some shame. Here is an attitude I think it is hard for us fully to shake off. I mean that sense that

·        the god of the Old Testament is a god of judgement, anger, war, and narrowness;

·        the god of the New Testament is a god of forgiveness, love, peace, and inclusivity.

It is a contrast deeply if quietly embedded in our society.

Even if Christians are now a minority in the country (as we are told we do), some notions are still around.

I suspect that this is one of them.

Bluntly, the god of the New Testament replaces the god of the Old, and it is good that it is so.

 

I have already said that some shame attaches itself to this habit of contrast. So my criticism is implicit already.

Let me be explicit:

this contrast, this antithesis is not a Christian belief.

It has no place in authentic Christianity.

It is at very best an oversimplification a tired Sunday-school teacher might stumble into, on an off-day.

But put more simply: it is heresy, pure.

The Christian claim is that (GOD) is One, and Revelation is one, from Genesis to Revelation.

From Genesis to Revelation, (GOD), the One (GOD),

is faithful, creative, loving, forgiving, is for us, is with us.

 

That’s not all, of course.

Another side to this is that when we think of human beings’ relationship to (GOD), we have to say: “it is complicated”.

And so, again, from Genesis to Revelation,

there is much that is attributed to (GOD)

and even much that really does seem to come from (GOD)

which is sharp, harsh, challenging and dark.

I say again: from Genesis to Revelation. In both Old and New Testaments.

 

Why do I say this now?

If ever we wanted to invert the usual contrast (the tired and heretical contrast)

between the god of the Old Testament (furious)

and the god of the New Testament (fluffy),

we could do a lot worse than begin with today’s readings.

I am thinking of the Gospel

and the text from the Hebrew Scriptures, the Old Testament,

chosen to mirror, or echo, or anticipate, or match it, from Isaiah.

 

Even if you were not paying 100% attention to these readings, 

I think even at a headline level, the contrast was clear:

John the Baptist in the New Testament (the New) brings warning and judgement;

Isaiah in the Old Testament (the Old) brings peace and healing.

That way round.

 

Let us look at some details.

In today’s Gospel, John, the prophet of (GOD) comes and speaks of… sin. 

Worse than that, he addresses people like this:

You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?... every tree… that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming… He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand… the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.

Stern stuff. It may be even sterner than we realise. From all that John says, we might want to rescue the promise of baptism in the Holy Spirit, and say that the promise of baptism in the Spirit is something good and hopeful and joyful. But I must ask you to curb your enthusiasm. We have to remember that the word for Spirit has a wide range of meanings. The Greek pneuma, like the Hebrew, ruach, means spirit, and it also means breath, and it also means wind. It is all about motion, about energy. So when John the Baptist promises one who will baptise with… wind and fire, he may actually be promising a fire fanned into flame, an out-of-control fire, a conflagration. “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?”

Contrast all of this (if we call it a message of crisis and purification, we are being kind) with the utterly stately-majestic poetry of the First Reading. A different prophet (not John but Isaiah) promises one who

with righteousness… shall judge the poor, and decide with equity for the meek of the earth… The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them… They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea.

No judgement, no wrath, no fire, but welcome, peace and inclusion. 

Transformation beyond your wildest dreams.

Who would not long for such a meeting with (GOD) on these terms?

Again, some details. Again, if anything, our translation understates the peacefulness and transformation of Isaiah’s vision.

Our translation says of the one to come: “with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked”. That’s the translators choice. Every bit as close to the Hebrew is to say “with the breath of his lips he shall kill off wickedness”.[2]

The underlying idea is clear:

whatever striking there has to be, it is his mouth which will do it

(speech not sword);

whatever killing-off has to be done, it is his lips which will do it

(words not weapons).

And that in turn is 

because of the spirit of gentleness (variously described in the opening verses) 

which rests upon him.

In Hebrew, the ruach (spirit, breath) rests (nachah) on this one.

Ruach – nachah.

The breathiness is there in the very sounds.

And I think the play on words is intended.

And actually the root words are ruach and nuach.

I have tried – and failed – to come up with a translation that captures this play on words:

The spirit spends free time upon him…

The air is at ease upon him…

The wind whiles away its time upon him…

The breath abides upon him…

None really works. I look forward to your suggestions later.

In any event, that stressed idea 

of rest, of restoration, of peace and ease, 

extends throughout our passage in ways that the English does not make clear.

I give my own translation of the ending. It says:

“This one the peoples will seek out. And glory will be his place of resting.”

Our translation refers to a “glorious dwelling”.

But the word translated “dwelling” is… menuchah.

Menuchah… from (yes) nuach. Place of resting,

A place of resting for the one on whom the restful spirit rests.[3]

No judgement, no wrath, no fire, but welcome, peace and inclusion.

Who would not long for such a meeting with (GOD) on these terms?


So let me say:

we need the fierceness of the Old Testament

and we need the gentleness of the New Testament.

And...

we need the gentleness of the Old Testament

and we need the fierceness of the New Testament.

The Testaments are not easily contrasted, 

and are not to be contrasted.

(GOD) is both fierce and gentle.

The life of faith exposes us to things gentle and fierce.

And it is good that it is so.


As for what combination of gentleness and fierceness will best suit the England team today, I keep my self-denying ordinance.


Amen.  



[1] That evening England were playing Senegal in the first knock-out rounds of the World Cup.

[2] Hebrew: U-ve-ruach sephatav yamit resha’ – resha’ is properly an adjective meaning a wicked person/thing.

Greek (LXX): kai en pneumati dia cheilion anelei asebe – “And with breath through lips he will destroy an ungodly [person].

[3] These language points are indebted to Robert Alter’s translation, ad loc.

Sunday, 8 November 2020

Sermon: We Have All The Oil of Anointing We Might Need!

 

Sermon. St Mary’s and St Michael’s Little Ilford (Live-Streamed Worship only)

8 November 2020

3rd Before Advent / Remembrance Sunday

 

Gospel: Matthew 25:1-13

 

What is going on in today’s gospel? In the first place, Jesus tells the story of a wedding. In Palestine in the first century, you didn’t get married by going to synagogue, or even to a lovely country house. A man may get married simply by going to fetch his bride, and bring her to his home. But, of course, since a wedding is the by far the very best excuse for a party, a meal was made out of each stage. So it’s very credible that a groom might say: “Right, I’m going to fetch her”, and then depart, and those left at home would have no idea when he’d be back. Because the couple are making a big procession, and calling in on people all the time. So, then, indeed, it might well be dark by the time the couple arrive, and then some form of light will be called for. Why not let the unmarried girls and women in the family have this task, again, to make a meal out of it? It’s probable, by the way, that the light in this story [sing. lampas] means torches, in the sense of tight bundles of sticks soaked in oil, rather than lamps or lanterns. It’s the same word that is used in John for the torches the Roman police bring to the garden of Gethsemane [John 18.3].

 

What is going on in today’s gospel? Jesus teaches as he so often does, by telling a story. A simple story to those who know the culture, but not necessarily with one simple meaning.

 

What is going on in today’s gospel? Jesus tells what this story is there for, he gives us the “therefore”. “Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour”. But what does this mean? It is unlikely that it is against sleep, literal sleep, loss of consciousness at night. There are, it is true, some spiritual traditions that are suspicious of sleep, and certainly suspicious of lie-ins, but that’s scarcely the focus here. Notice that in the story the bridesmaids are not criticised for getting drowsy and taking a nap: the foolish do it; the wise do it too.

 

Is it, then, about being expectant? Are we being called upon to expect the return of Jesus-our-Bridegroom at any minute? Any minute now. Any minute now. Are we meant to encourage each other with these words: “Jesus is coming – any minute now?” I doubt it. Of course, we have the advantage of being able to look back on 2000 years of Church life. There it’s pretty clear that communities which make a meal of the idea that we are in the last days, and “Jesus is coming – any minute now”, do not flourish, over time. It’s hard to stay intensely expectant in that sense, over a long period of time. It’s hard to live that way.

 

We know this ourselves. We might indeed have tried to encourage ourselves a lot between Wednesday and Saturday, by keeping the television on a news channel, and saying: “Any minute now, we’ll know who is the next President of the USA. Any minute now.” But if we had done this, we would have grown weary, and even jaded. Even more pertinently, we might indeed seek to encourage each other with “Any minute now, lockdown will be over – any minute now.” Or “Any minute now, they’ll find a vaccine – any minute now”, but if we do so, we find that what starts as encouragement becomes discouragement, and we become weary, and even jaded. It can be harmful.

 

And again, I say: the wise bridesmaids in the story are for their part not criticised for getting drowsy and taking a nap. So the message is not: “sleep is bad”, but nor is the message: “adrenaline is good, keep in a heightened state of awareness, always”.  

*

If we stick with the wedding story itself, another message emerges. 


It’s not about literally keeping awake. It’s not about keeping expectant, straining your neck to see a couple who simply must be around the corner. It is about being prepared. Yes (let me say it) we are all to be (as it were) boy scouts, and “be prepared”.

 

The foolish bridesmaids were not those who had a nap (to say it one last time), but were those who were not prepared, on waking. Who, on waking, were not prepared. This message also makes more sense. If we look back on those 2000 years, we surely do see that churches which sustain a lively sense that they must be prepared, prepared for the next thing Gd is going to do, because Gd really is active among us – these churches do tend to thrive (in one way or another). And we might hope to be such a church.  

 

How were the bridesmaids to “be prepared”? It’s not a difficult question. They are to have plenty… of oil. To keep a torch lit for a protracted length of time, you need a lot of oil. You need oil to spare. And of course, this isn’t Castrol GTX oil, this is olive oil, or similar.

 

[Shows oil]

 

And once we let the oil in the story move into view, we see something more. With biblical sensitivity, we see that this oil is the oil that enables light, yes, but is also the oil that enables anointing. Prophets and priests (sometimes) and kings (especially) were anointed with oil. And remember that the word “Christ” is not a name: it’s a description, a title; it means “anointed”, The Anointed One.

 

So we too are to be prepared, prepared by having plenty of the oil-of-anointing, by having our oil-of-anointing, and oil-of-anointing to spare.

 

Can we get a feel for this? That Jesus is saying by means of this story that there is plenty of the oil-of-anointing, there is oil-of-anointing for us and for all. Get as much as you need and want; it is there to be got. We are, after all, to be expectant, but not expectant in the sense that we keep going on about how Jesus is bound to return next week, or at any time soon, but expectant in the sense that we are to look within our lives for where Gd already is anointing, with the touch of his Spirit. The oil of the Spirit is with us. We have our supplies, and more than our supplies, if we only trust it.

 

So much is uncertain. Now, it is true, and importantly true, that we do not live with that bundle of agonising uncertainties that come under the heading of “war”, still less “World War”. We are conscious of this especially today, and we will remember the victims of wars, near and far, in just a little while, giving thanks for our peace. But much is uncertain here and now, for us, too. It is natural that for us, too, the adrenaline will flow, and we may fall into anxiety at least in that sense.

 

But here is one thing we need not be anxious about. We can let this anxiety fall away.  The oil of the Spirit is with us. We have our supplies, and more, if we only trust it.

 

We in our church here and now have, I think, a lively sense of this; we know we are on the cusp of change, and we pray that it will be anointed change, the change of the Spirit, and in so praying we do trust that our prayer will be answered, affirmatively. May we also know it throughout our lives, our own lives as workers (whether paid or not), as family members (as spouses as parents as children as siblings…), as people who play, and may we know this in the secret place of our own heart, in our own praying.

 

Keep awake, keep alive to the truth that we already have all the anointing of the Spirit we might need. Find it. Cherish it. Hold it. Let your light shine. Amen.

Monday, 8 June 2020

Sermon: The Trinity? It's Simple, Always and Today. Racism? It's Simply Evil, Always and Today.

Sermon. 7 June 2020. St Michael and All Angels, Little Ilford 

Trinity Sunday (Year A) 

How to preach the Trinity?  
That Gd is both One, and Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  

There are many ways to get it wrong.  
Most obviously, preachers get it wrong by going for analogies, images.  
Yes, there [shows] is always Saint Patrick’s three-leaf shamrock or any plant.  
What do you think?  
One Gd made up of three, separate parts?  
One Gd, made up of three sub-gods? 
Doesn’t really work.  
Or there’s water, or rather H20.  
H20 as ice, and water, and steam?  
One Gd appearing in different guises, depending on circumstance.  
But, then, who did Jesus pray to?  
None of it works. 
No analogy can work.  

But... 
even worse is to be embarrassed about preaching in the Trinity,  
as if it were something abstract, intellectual,  
just for the keenies, or neurotic tidiers.  

I want to suggest three things about the doctrine of the Trinity  
which you may not have heard before.  
They may even shock you.  
I cannot argue the full case (that’s for another time and place).  
All I want to do is show you some aspects  
of a different way of engaging with this.  

First shiock: I want to suggest that the doctrine of the Trinity  
explains nothing about Gd.  
It is a refusal to explain Gd. It is a refusal to explain. 
  
You see, the Church, as it was coming to set out the doctrine,  
already knew some things it believed.  
These things were in its blood.   
  • Gd is one.  It is not that there just happened to be one god,  but there might have been 47.  No. This is saying that Gd  is unique.  It just makes no sense to think that there might be another Gd alongside Gd. 
  •  Gd reveals Gdself as I AM in the Old Testament,  and as Father, Son and Holy Spirit in the New.  This revelation is recorded in Scripture, but it is not past. Gd comes to us as Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  In our worship we find ourselves 
  • within the intimacy of the one Gd,  Father, Son and Holy Spirit. 
And we don’t try to explain this.  
We hold it all together, and we enjoy it.  
We adore.   
Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit.  

So on this reading it is actually those who come to be called “heretics”  
who try to tie it all up, and explain Gd.  
  • So some said that Gd is one, and so Jesus is really only a human being pretending to be Gd, or Gd pretending to be resembling a human being.  
  • Some said: Gd is one, and so Christ is “god”, but in a secondary way, a derived way - some demi-god, some reflection of Gd. 
  • Some said that Gd is one,  but comes to us sometimes as Father, sometimes as Son, and sometimes as Spirit, as the occasion demands.  
To these and other explainers the Church replied:  
No.  
If you try to explain it, you end up explaining it away.  
We don’t explain away; we worship. 
Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. 

Second shock: the doctrine of the Trinity tells us one simple truth.  

It tells us that Gd is love,  
and when we say that Gd is love, 
we really mean that Gd is love.  
It isn’t that Gd on a whim decided to make the world,  
and then pretend to be love,  
as if Gd thought: it might be fun to have creatures thinking of me as Love.  
No, love is who Gd really is, 
even before, even outside of creation.  
So there is love within Gd. 
So we need at least something like the doctrine of the Trinity.  
We cannot demonstrate this, of course. 
It is rather that none of our claims makes sense without this claim.  
So we are brought back to the simplest claim of all: 
Gd is love.  

Third shock: the doctrine of the Trinity is  
among the most practical of Christian teachings.  

This follows on from the previous point.  
Gd is love,  
and so, yes, in a sense, the Beatles were right:  
All you need is love.  
Christianity is not a set of rules for all circumstances, 
nor even a vision of a perfectly virtuous community, 
but a call to love.  
But whereas the Beatles might have meant 
an intense reaction or feeling,  
or (to be fair to them) some affection which might indeed last, 
we know that won’t quite do.  
Even when we are in our own minds “loving”, 
we can still be self-deluded and self-serving.  
But the doctrine of the Trinity says:  
embed your true insight that all you need is love,  
within in the story of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.  
This will give it the breadth and the depth it needs.  

So the love we need is that of the Father, whose story we know,  
who is creative and nurtures.  
The love we need is that of the Son, whose story we know,  
who teaches, guides, heals, liberates, gives, parties, and sacrifices himself.  
The love we need is that of the Spirit, whose story we know,  
who comforts, who is advocate and life-giver.  
Here is the breadth and the depth we need,
to give real content to the love that is all we need. 

So  
  • the Trinity is not an explanation of Gd, but a refusal to explain.  
  • It brings us back to the simple truth: Gd’s nature is love. 
  • And it calls us to the practical work of reflecting that simple, divine love.  
We might say that the Christian vocation is to find yourself,  
over and over again, just at the cusp of sensing and inhabiting  
the love of Gd, drawing us in and sending us out.  

And how are we, here, now, in 2020, in this world, 
just at the cusp of sensing and inhabiting the love of Gd?  

Since we are only ever just at the cusp of it, we will get it wrong.  
The Church as institution  
and we here in Manor Park and in all church communities  
will get it wrong.  
We will say too much, or we will say too little.  
Nevertheless, being clear that we will get it wrong, we have to speak.  
The love between the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit is a fire  
  • that is brighter and more warming than we might ever dare to hope,  
  • and a fire that is more revealing and refining than we might ever fear. 

Being clear that we will get it wrong, we have to speak. 

This last week have given us two great images, to anti-icons 
of what it is to oppose the love of Gd.  

The first is the image of one human being – a “law-enforcer” - 
pressing his knee into the neck and windpipe of another human being, 
who was not resisting 
for 8 minutes and 46 seconds,  
killing him, 
while other “law-enforcers” stood around. 
It is not possible that he did that, not knowing he was killing him.  
   
The other “anti-icon” is that of a “leader”   
ordering other law-enforcers” to clear a way for him,  
by force of arms and tear-gas, aimed at churchpeople as much as anybody,  
so that he could walk with ease, 
and stand in front of a Church with a Bible in his hand,  
waving it, like a magic charm.  
It is not possible that he did that,  
not knowing it would make for more division and rage.  
It was provocation to violence. 
It was sacrilege. It was blasphemy. It was idolatry.  

Where do we go from here? 
  
We are, in truth, where we always are.  
We are just on the cusp of sensing and inhabiting the love of Gd in the Trinity. So when we speak, we will get it wrong, saying too little or too much.  
But speak out we must, now against the evils of racism and oppressive power.  

We need as always to pray for one another,  
and for our leaders and people of influence  
in the Church and in the world, 
to pray for the right mix  
  • of righteous anger and unbending, loud protest (yes) 
  • with proper detachment that makes us wary of self-righteousness, 
  • and makes us willing to do the searing soul-searching that alone will free us.  

We pray for one another within the love of Gd,  
giving thanks for the steadfastness of that love,  
Saying Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.  
Amen.