Showing posts with label Prophecy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prophecy. Show all posts

Sunday, 2 July 2023

Sermon. No easy peace. No easy welcome.

 Sermon. 2 July 2023. Trinity 4 (Year A)

 

Jeremiah 28:5-9

Matthew 10:40-42

 

Our readings today are easy. They bring us ease. They bring us ease because they are short (that’s part of it). And you are hoping they inspire a short sermon (let us see). The readings give us ease also because their meaning is simple. And they give us ease because their simple meaning is attractive.

 

Our first reading, from Jeremiah, tells us of prophets who speak of peace.

Our gospel reading shows us Jesus, who tells us how important it is to welcome and be welcomed. What is not to like? Here is easy ease.

 

Except, of course (and you were expecting this), it is not quite that simple. Most especially with Jeremiah, it is not that simple. With Jeremiah, the message is very different from how it seems, when put into context.

 

What has happened immediately before our passage is that the prophet called Hananiah has prophesied [Jer 28:1-4]. He is the prophet of peace. His message is that Gd has triumphed over the enemy of the people of the covenant. Gd “has broken the yoke of the King of Babylon”. Gd will bring back the exiles in Babylon, and the people of Judah will live in peace, in their own land. This is a powerful message. Feel the force of it. This is a prophecy about peace coming with victory.

 

Then. Then Jeremiah responds. First, he shares the ardent desire of Hananiah. He says: “Amen! May the LORD do so; may the LORD fulfil the words that you have prophesied.” But, Jeremiah then says: just notice how out of character this prophecy is. He doesn’t dress it up. He says: “The prophets who preceded you and me from ancient times prophesied war, famine, and pestilence against many countries and great kingdoms.” And so, he then says, as for “the prophet who prophesies peace, when the word of that prophet comes true, then it will be known that [Gd] has truly sent the prophet”.

 

Let me summarise. Jeremiah says:

“Dear Hananiah, the success you speak of would be lovely. It is scarcely what prophets tend to say, though. That doesn’t make it wrong, of course. But the thing is: we’ll believe it when we see it. We are right to be sceptical and say ‘we’ll believe it when we see it’.”

 

Jeremiah’s message is really against the prophet who presumes to speak of peace. And this is because Jeremiah’s message overall is that Gd’s people are going to be and stay in exile – to be in  a narrow place – for a long time to come. They need to bear that. They need to make the most of things. Without triumph . Without victory. Without ease.

 

And so to the Gospel. First let me reassure you. I am not saying that the message of the Gospel is the opposite of what it seems. But I am saying it is more complicated. It is not easy.

 

One part may already be clear. Jesus says it is a good thing to welcome a prophet. We have just reminded ourselves that prophets are typically people who bring bad news. It is a good thing to welcome someone who brings us bad news, who says things we find awkward, who says things that trouble us deeply, who says things which call us to action, action we would rather avoid. Can we welcome this welcome? That, I think, is a real challenge for us. A challenge for us as persons/disciples, as households, as church-in-this-place, and as a national Church.

 

Jesus also says it is a good thing to welcome a righteous person. To welcome a person who gets it right, who lives the good life. This feels like easier territory. Perhaps it is. I’ll add only that Jesus does not tell us to welcome the person who lives well in the ways that we live well, the person who sees things the way we see things. And we know (don’t we?) that there are people who we disagree with on nine things out of ten, who also live lives of goodness and holiness that we can only envy. The person who lives well, who is righteous, may – without even meaning it – shine a light on how we are not living well, are not living the good life. Can we welcome this welcome?

 

Again, Jesus says it is a good thing to welcome the little ones. Who are they? Babies, infants, children? I think they are included. But the term is broader than that. Let me put it this way: the “little ones” are those in need. Or better: the “little ones” are those who cannot hide their need, who come with their needs laid bare. Their needs are in your face. Their needs cry out for your response. For action, more action. Can we welcome this welcome?

 

We know, I think, that we are called to these kinds welcome, in our own place, in our own day.

We are called to welcome those who speak awkward truths.

We are called to welcome those whose lives show us the failings in our own lives.

We are called to welcome those whose needs cry out for help, now.

 

Brothers and sisters, you will make the links, the church links, the social links, and the political links. The links need to be made but I need not make them for you. My prayer is only that we reflect on our readings today, and find them (forgive me for this) anything but easy.

 

Amen.

Wednesday, 8 July 2020

Hosea and the One People of One Gd, Making It Real


Sermon. St Michael and All Angels, 9 July 2020 (Feria)

·        Hosea 10.1-3, 7-8, 12

Today’s first reading is from the Prophet Hosea.
We have been thinking a lot about prophets and prophecy recently,
and rightly so.
This is a time that calls for Christian prophecy.
All times are times that call for prophecy,
but this is one of the times when that is right before our eyes.

It might be worth just noting this.
If you knew nothing of the Bible and its own ways of seeing things,
the opening of the reading from Hosea must sound very strange.
Hear it again:

Israel is a luxuriant vine, that yields its fruit.
The more his fruit increased, the more altars he built;
As his country improved, he improved his pillars.
Their heart is false; now they must bear their guilt.
[GD] will break down their altars, and destroy their pillars.

Strange, no?
Things are going well for Israel,
and Israel is building more altars, with impressive pillars.
Israel is offering a full religious response,
in recognition for how good things are.
 Yet Gd condemns Israel for this,
and will destroy their religious paraphernalia.
If we didn’t know the back-story, we’d find that, well,
cruel of Gd.

The back-story is of course that these altars and pillars
are not for the glory of the One, Unique Gd.
They are for false gods,
or, perhaps, for false understandings of Gd.
Worship at these altars is lifeless, and indeed deadening.
It is actually 
rebellion against Gd-as-Gd-has-revealed-Gdself-to-Israel.
Which is what we call “idolatry”.

There is, though, a back-story to the back-story.
That is that Gd who reveals Gdself to Israel
makes it clear that this Gd wants only one place to be the place of altars.
There is to be a place which Gd chooses,
a place where 
Gd’s Name and Gd’s Glory dwells.
One place which Is Gd’s Dwelling.

From a philosophical or historical or indeed generic religious point of view,
it did not have to be this way.
It is quite possible to believe in One Gd,
and also believe that you might have several thousand altars,
set up wherever is convenient for worshippers.
Many do.
Belief in “monotheism” doesn’t require
belief in one single Dwelling Place for Gd.
Anything but.

But the Bible is not (or only rarely) directly concerned with religious philosophy (though it contains much wisdom of course).
Bluntly, the Bible is not concerned with
what religious philosophers call “monotheism”
(as opposed to “polytheism”, “atheism” or any other “ism”).
Rather, the Bible is 
a call for personal, existential loyalty to Gd
who reveals Gdself as One.

And...
in having One Place where the One People gather to worship the One Gd
at peak periods,
this Oneness is reinforced.
It is reinforced in the gathering.
Come together. 
Come together as one, to demonstrate
– and yes, I will use the word: to “embody” -
the Oneness of Gd.
The Oneness of Gd isn’t something the people invent. No.
But it certainly does involve a task, for its full realisation.
Come together as one.

This is how I read the Prophet Hosea, although other readings are possible.

You may say: why rub it in?
We as a parish are not yet in a place where we can gather for worship.
We are moving carefully and deliberately.
But why remind us, yet again,
of the pain of our inability to come together as one?

Now is not the time for a discussion about the practical matters.
But it may be necessary even here to make it clear
that even when we can gather (soon, please Gd),
we won’t be gathering 
as we gathered when we gathered.
When we have gathered, we have sat together.
We have rubbed up against each other, at the altar rail if nowhere else.
We have shared the peace, by touch.
Sisters and brothers, these oh-so-natural parts of our worship
will remain impossible, improper, 
because of the risk of serious harm,
to others, if not ourselves.

But, of course, you know, let’s be realistic.

The idea of
the One People gathering together 
in the One Place to worship the One Gd 
was always an ideal.
It never quite happened.
More than a historical fact,
it was an image of how things spiritually are,
of how Gd longs to gather us together as one.
The Hebrew tradition does not use images as most Christians do.
 But we can say that this idea of all gathering together as one
is an “icon” of and within the Hebrew Bible,
revealing how Gd calls us together.

And that spiritual truth, that Gd gathers us,
that Gd is a gatherer (always and everywhere),
is true for us, right now, in our physical isolation,
is one we can hold on to, is one we can make our own, right now.
Truly we are, here and now (whenever and wherever you are hearing this)
One People in one place of spiritual truth,
worshipping the One Gd.

How to live that out?
Amen.   

Friday, 12 June 2020

Sermon. Barnabas: Encourager and More

Sermon. St Michael and All Angels, Little Ilford, 12 June 2020

Feast of St Barnabas (transferred). 


St Barnabas. 
The first thing we might say of St Barnabas is his name. 
His name was of course... Joseph. 
Yes, Barnabas is one of the many biblical characters whose name changes, 
and, unlike his friend and mentor, Saul-who-just-becomes-Paul, 
there is a story attached. 
Barnabas sells some land, and gives the money to the whole Church community. 
(The story is at the beginning of Acts.) 
For this he is called Barnabas, 
which is translated in the text itself (as we’ve been reminded) as 
“Son of Encouragement”.  

“Son of Encouragement” 
is a perfectly good translation of the Greek huios parakleseos. 
The idea is surely that he encouraged others both by supplying resources 
to meet real needs, 
and also by his example. 
He inspired.  
But encouragement is not the only possible translation. 
The word for encouragement (paraklesis) is closely related to the other name we give the Holy Spirit, Parakletos, the Paraclete, 
which is translated Comforter, or Advocate. 
How so? 
The core meaning for both words is one who comes alongside you, 
who is called alongside you, 
whether to comfort you, by holding you up, or to speak out for you.   

You will have spotted how different the name sounds from the Greek, though. 
This name is clearly Aramaic or Hebrew in origin. 
Actually, you can tell it is Aramaic, 
for the simple reason that Bar is an Aramaic word. 
It means “son” or indeed “son of”. S
o it is likely that the underlying is bar nehma. 
Bar nehma does indeed fit, and might be translated as “son of encouragement”. Again, though, that may not be the most natural translation. 
That word nehma relates to the Hebrew word for comfort. 
When in the prophecy of Isaiah [40.1] we hear those wonderful words: 
“Comfort, comfort ye, my people”. That’s Nahmu, nahmu. Comfort.

There’s another possibility. 
The underlying Aramaic may be Naviah. 
At the surface level of sound, that is a better fit. Bar Naviah. 
That would have a significantly different meaning. 
It would mean: "Son of Prophecy". 
And, let us remember, prophecy in the biblical sense tends not to mean telling the future as a clairvoyant, does not mean someone gazing into the middle distance and mumbling about good fortune, or tall dark handsome strangers. 
A prophet is someone who places both feet on the ground, and forthtells. 
A prophet has both feet on the ground and looks with Gd’s eyes at the present - and especially how the powerful treat those without power - and proclaims, declaims: 
“If you carry on, Gd will see to it that such-and-such happens”. 
A prophet threatens, warns, cajoles, nudges, and, yes, in that sense encourages. They draw out courage.   

So Barnabas is encourager, is inspirer, is advocate, is comforter, is prophet. 
Barnabas is one who comes alongside, 
whether to speak out fearlessly and loudly even against the wrong, 
or sit silently with the person in need, comforting with a hand on a shoulder, and a refusal to judge. 
All of that.  

What do we draw from this? 
It is as obvious as it is heart-felt. It is as heart-felt as it is obvious. 
We are called to be Barnabas in all these ways (and perhaps more).  
We, as personal disciples, as the Christians gathered in our patch of Little Ilford, and as the Church dispersed throughout the world, 
are called to be ones who comes alongside, 
both to speak out fearlessly against the wrong, 
and sit silently with the person in need, 
comforting with a hand on a shoulder, and a refusal to judge.  

In our days, this combination is a particularly difficult, 
an excruciatingly difficult task, 
for the reasons we know and have named. 
And we will get things wrong. 
But we don’t do it in our own strength. 
We do it, because we are called to be it. 
Called to it by Gd Gdself. 
And the One who calls us is faithful, 
and is the fulness of 
encouragement, 
inspiration, 
advocacy, 
comfort 
and speaking out. 
So there is, in truth, nothing to stop us committing right now, 
to be, in this way or that (as Gd sees fit), another Barnabas. 

A blessed Feast Day.  
Amen.