Mothering Sunday (Lent 4)

Today is Mothering Sunday, which, as it happens coincides with Mother’s Day in the UK, but is distinct from it.  Mothering Sunday celebrates in the first place our mother Church and then our earthly mothers.  Today, then, is about ‘mothering’.  This weekend, as it happens, also celebrates the Annunciation of our Lord to the Blessed Virgin Mary.  It is now 9 months to Christmas! 

The Blessed Virgin Mary as the Mother of our Lord is the supreme example of motherhood in the Bible.  God decided that when he was going to reveal himself fully to us human beings, he was going to do it by becoming one of us.  To do this, he was, as St Paul puts it: ‘born of a woman’ and for 30 years was nurtured and cared for by a woman.

You would think that this would of itself be sufficient to secure the Blessed Virgin Mary a place of respect and honour in the Church.  In fact, she became instead a highly controversial figure.  She remains controversial today although for different reasons depending on your particular perspective. 

We need to look a little at the history.  In the New Testament, there is not a lot about Mary.  This doesn’t in and of itself mean anything: there is very little about the doctrine of the Eucharist, but we know it was central to the worship of the Early Church. 

Mary herself was present at our Lord’s first miracle in Cana of Galilee, she was present at the Cross when he was crucified, and present on the Day of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit was given.  In the years that followed, as the Church sought to express its faith and worship, Mary was given a prominent role of honour and respect.  In 431, the Council of Ephesus formally proclaimed her ‘Theotokos’: God-bearer.  Or, as it is more usually translated: Mother of God.  The Church meant by this that Jesus as the Divine Son of God came into the world by her.

During the years following, through what are known as the Middle Ages, devotion to Mary became an important part of Christian worship and religious practice. 

I have recently spoken about the European Reformation.  While the reformers all recognized Mary as ‘Theotokos’ and believed in the Virgin Birth.  They felt things had gone too far and that honour was being given to Mary that properly belonged to her Son.  In the same way that the Church divided over issues such as ‘justification by faith’ so to Christians divided over Mary.  These divisions are still with us.

In the years following the Reformation, Roman Catholics not only continued to reverence her, they accredited her with more formal titles all emphasizing the importance of her role in salvation.  There are, as a result, many feast days dedicated to her. 

Roman Catholics celebrate, for example, in addition to the Annunciation of our Lord to the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary and her enthronement as the Queen of Heaven.  She is recognized as herself a Mediator between her son and human beings.  Some would even describe her as ‘Co-redemptrix’, seeing her as playing a unique and essential role in our salvation.  Roman Catholics, at least officially, would reject any suggestion that they worship Mary or that, in honouring Mary, they are in any way dishonouring her son. 

It has to be said, however, that the impression is sometimes given that, whatever the official position of the Church may be, the reality for many is somewhat different and that Mary occupies a position in some people’s devotions that comes dangerously near to worship.

In more recent times, however, Mary has been subject to a new line of attack in addition to traditional Protestant rhetoric.  For many today, Mary is quite simply not the role model they want and certainly not one they want for women. 

Mary is regarded as representing a particular male view of the ideal woman: someone who is both mother and sexually pure.  Worse still, her words to the Angel Gabriel are considered to be a modern form of blasphemy: ‘let it be to me according to your word.’  Mary’s submission and apparent passivity is seen as a bad example to women who are being encouraged ‘to do it for themselves’ and who don’t need men or male permission to be the person they want to be. 

Instead, another Mary is championed, by both Christian and non-Christian alike, as a more appropriate role model for our age.  She is Mary Magdalene.  Mary Magdalene is seen as more independent, riskier, even sexier.  Admittedly, this is with the aid of some imagination and highly dubious interpretation of the Gospel records, but why let the facts spoil things?

So the Blessed Virgin Mary falls victim to Protestant fundamentalists and liberals alike.  She is no use to us.  Best then to consign her to history alongside other characters in the Gospel story that we pay little attention to.

I think this is both sad and a grave error.  After all, God did choose this young woman to be the mother of his Son and, for a long time, she was the biggest influence in his life.  One of our Lord’s last words on the Cross was to his Mother and to the disciple whom he loved: To his mother, he said: ‘Woman, behold your Son.’  And to the disciple: ‘Behold your mother.’

There isn’t time to try to unpack the significance of these words this morning, but Mary does have particular relevance for us today on Mothering Sunday.  (In what I am about to say I have no wish whatsoever to denigrate the role of fathers: but it is Mothering Sunday!)

God could have chosen many different ways to reveal himself to us.  The Letter to the Hebrews refers to the way God has spoken to us in the past, but now, he writes, he has spoken to us through a Son.  And to do this he entrusted himself to a young woman.  God not only had faith in Mary, he had faith in the value of an earthly mother.

Many here today are mothers.  It has always been a challenging role.  In the past, many women have died in childbirth.  Nowadays, thanks to medical technology, being a mother is for many, if not all, a choice.  But whereas in the past, the role was reasonably well-defined, it is so no longer.  Society gives many confusing messages as to what being a mother is all about.

Quite rightly a woman’s right to be treated equally in the workplace is increasingly recognized even if there is still a long way to go.  Nevertheless, with this has come, in some circles, a patronizing attitude to those women who choose not to focus exclusively on career, but to focus as well or instead on mothering.  I think the time has come in the Church for us to stop telling women what they must or must not do.  We are all different and what matters is that we each seek to offer ourselves, our personalities and gifts, to God. 

For some this will mean one set of choices, for others a different set.  But whichever choices women decide to make, what they deserve from the Church is support not criticism. 

One aspect of that support is to affirm the value of mothering, in whatever way a mother has decided to express it.  It is right that today we offer affirmation and encouragement to all who have embarked on this challenging and lifetime role. 

We need earthly mothers, but we do need spiritual mothering as well.  Often clergy will get asked: ‘Do I need to Church to be a Christian?’  Clergy are often evasive in their answer.  So, for the avoidance of any doubt: ‘Do I need to go to Church to be a Christian?  Yes – you do!’

Why?  Because that’s how God has decided it is going to be.

God provides us with earthly families and he provides us with spiritual families.  Christ Church is our spiritual family.  It is appropriate that our AGM should fall this year on Mothering Sunday.  It is a time to thank God for our mother Church: for Christ Church and for all who our part of her.

Finally, though, I want to return to the Blessed Virgin Mary.  Not only does she remind us of the God given importance of mothers and our need for mothering, both physical and spiritual, she serves as a spiritual role model for both women and men.

Mary was the first disciple and her example provides us with an example of what it means to be a disciple.  It is no coincidence that our age should not like Mary’s words:  ‘Let it be to me according to your word’.

Self-fulfilment now is the order of the day and that is to be achieved by asserting our wills, demanding our rights, and doing what we want.  We celebrate the successful and powerful and despise the humble and meek.

Mary chose a different way.  She saw no greater path of fulfilment than doing what God wanted her to do.  Hers was a path of submission and sacrifice.  In the Temple, she was told that a sword would pierce her own heart also.  Being a mother is never easy, nor is being a disciple, but it is to this path that we are all called to today.

Mary realized that true fulfilment lies not in asserting our will, but submitting to God’s. The God who Mary knew was the God who casts down the mighty from their seats and who exalts the humble and meek. 

So today we thank God for our mothers and for our mother Church, and we ask him to help us to follow Mary along the path of submission and service.  We honour the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, especially today as we seek to serve her Lord and ours:

Hail Mary full of Grace,

the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou among women

and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus.

Holy Mary Mother of God,

pray for us sinners,

now and at the hour of our death.

Amen.

Lent 2

John 3:3

I am sure that many of you will have heard the phrase ‘born again Christian’.  I can remember sermons asking the question, ‘Are you born again?’  Many of these sermons were addressed to people who regularly attended Church and who certainly considered themselves Christian. 

The phrase itself came to represent a certain type of Christianity - a Christianity that saw itself opposed to what it believed was the formality and emptiness of established religion. 

I can only speak of the UK where I grew up, but I imagine it was true in other countries and places where the Church had been around for a period of time as well.  People went to Church for a variety of reasons not all of them, should we say, to do with God.  Often going to Church was little more than a middle class habit – something you did on a Sunday without necessarily having much clue about what went on.  Amongst many churchgoers – hard though it maybe to believe – talking about God outside of church was considered embarrassing and vulgar.  In the UK, the Anglican Church was often described as the Tory party at prayer – a description that certainly does not fit today in the UK at least.

In the same way that there was a challenge to traditional beliefs and values in society in the 1960s and the years following, so too within the Church there was a questioning of the status quo.  This came from 2 directions: firstly, from those who questioned the truth of traditional beliefs. (Bishop Robinson and his book ‘Honest to God’ are associated with those who took this position.)

Secondly, from the opposite direction, came those who held to and asserted the truth of traditional beliefs and values, but made the claim, startling to many Christians, Anglicans especially, that we should actually believe them and, what is more, experience them.  Christianity they argued wasn’t just for Sunday. 

Billy Graham was particularly associated with those who took this approach and he held mass rallies at which many came forward to accept Christ.  Many of those coming forward weren’t people who had never heard of Christ, but regular church-goers who were hearing of him in a new way.  Billy Graham wrote a book, ‘How to be Born Again’ which is still in print.

The phrase itself came from this morning’s reading and at long last it is to it that we now turn.  In John 3:3 Jesus says, ‘Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the Kingdom of God without being born again.’  Then in John 3:7: ‘Do not be astonished that I said to you, “You must be born again.”’

Let’s turn to the passage:  Jesus is in Jerusalem for the Passover.  In John’s Gospel it is his first visit since his baptism by John the Baptist and just after his first miracle in Cana of Galilee.  He has already made quite an impression not least because he has engaged in an act of violence in the Temple: driving the merchants and money-changers from the Temple and pouring out their coins and over-turning their tables. 

People don’t quite know at this stage what to make of him.  And so a Pharisee named Nicodemus decides to find out for himself.  The Pharisees, we know: they were people dedicated to God’s Law.  This Pharisee, however, is also ‘a leader of the Jews’.  We know that he was also very rich!

Nicodemus comes to Jesus by night.  Some think that this means that he comes secretly, however that is unlikely.  In the first place opposition to Jesus hasn’t hardened at this stage and there is no reason why Nicodemus shouldn’t come.  And night time was a perfectly normal time to meet people after the day’s work. 

But it is significant that he comes ‘by night’ in the context of St John’s Gospel.  In St John’s Gospel night is symbolic of unbelief and darkness.  Nicodemus not only comes at night.  He himself is in the darkness.

This is illustrated by his response to what Jesus tells him, ‘How can these things be?’ he asks.  Jesus answers him, ‘Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?”

What is it that he does not understand?  His conversation with Jesus began well enough.  He is an important man, but approaches Jesus respectfully:  ‘Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God.’  Jesus, however, dispenses with the niceties and says simply the words I have already quoted:  ‘Very truly, I tell you, no-one can see the Kingdom of God without being born again.’

Or does he?  The Greek word can mean either ‘anew’ hence again, or ‘from above’.  Now Nicodemus responds, ‘Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?’  This suggests ‘again’ is the right understanding. 

But what Jesus goes on to say suggests that what he has in mind is not so much how many times you are born, but how you are born.  Now if you are born from above, you will be born anew or again, but the emphasis is on where the birth comes from.  And the birth Jesus has in mind is the birth of the Spirit:

‘The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.  So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.’ (John 3:8)

When Jesus says we must be born ‘from above’ or born anew or again.  What he is saying is that we must be born of the Spirit.  As far as Jesus is concerned this is fundamental:  you cannot be a Christian without being born ‘from above’.  When we are born as babies, we are born into the world as physical beings.  We now need to be born spiritually, not in some vague new age sense of the word, but born of God’s Spirit.  This is not an optional extra. 

The truth is that we all do come to Church for a variety of reasons, and let me say at once, that there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.  I do believe that the Church is a place where people should be welcomed and feel at home.  But there has to be more to it than that.

It should, of course, be a place where having come to it, we join together to worship God.  We should have fellowship with one another.  Study the Bible and the Christian faith together and together seek to serve as we reach out to those in need. 

But even this is not enough.  The Church should be all these things, but as well as being a place where people worship God, it should be a place where they encounter God.  Where we see God’s Spirit at work.

Frankly, we can have excellent worship and fellowship, be a church known for giving and supporting those in need, we can be open and welcoming, but if people don’t meet God personally for themselves when they come to Church, then we are failing.

The Church, if we take Jesus’ words seriously, is to be a ‘spiritual maternity hospital’, a place where people can come to be born from above, that is, to be born spiritually.  The job of the clergy first and foremost is to act as a spiritual midwife to help people be ‘born from above.’  And then to help them to grow spiritually. 

But I would just say this in closing: every birth is different.  This is true in the physical world and it is true too in the spiritual world.  Very often, those who use the language of ‘being born again’ tend to suggest that it must be immediate and dramatic.  St Paul’s experience, for example, was like this.  But for others, labour is a protracted experience!  As it was for Nicodemus himself.

First, he came by night: he was questioning, but not understanding.  He was, at least, open to hearing what Jesus had to say for himself.

Secondly, then later, when his fellow Pharisees wanted to have Jesus killed, he questioned their right to do so (John 7: 45-52).  He was beginning openly to confront his doubt.

Thirdly, immediately after Jesus had been crucified, he went with Joseph of Arimithea, who is described as a disciple of Jesus, though a secret one because of his fear of the Jews, to remove the body and bury it (John 19:38-39).  Nicodemus himself is described as the one ‘who had first come to Jesus by night’.  Now, however, he has stepped out of the darkness into the light of commitment.  A ‘leader of the Jews’ and a ‘secret disciple’ are the two to make sure Jesus is buried with dignity.

Nicodemus gives us an example as we seek to be ‘born from above’:

You may be interested in Jesus: ask questions!

You may be unsure: confront your doubts!

You may be on brink of a decision: make it!

We are born in this world to physical life, which is mortal and will end, but the birth from above is to spiritual life, which is eternal and will never end.

‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.’ (John 3:16)

‘What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit.  Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’’ (John 3:6)

Sunday next before Lent

Matthew 17:1-9

Today is the Sunday before Lent and the theme of our service is the Transfiguration.  It is a well-known story: Jesus takes the three disciples who form his inner core, as it were, and leads them up a high mountain.  While up there, he is transfigured, changed, before them.  Two people: Moses and Elijah, two of the greatest figures of the Old Testament, who represent the Law and the Prophets, appear to them.  A voice comes from a bright cloud that has come over them announcing that Jesus is ‘my Son, the beloved.’

Understandably, the three disciples are both confused and afraid and, in their fear, they fall to the ground.  When Jesus speaks to them, they look up and there is no-one else with them.  On the way down the mountain, Jesus orders them to tell no-one what has happened until after he has been raised from the dead. 

In our second reading, St Peter writes: ‘We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ …’ and then goes on to describe the experience related in the Gospels.

One of the key questions raised in all the four Gospels, and one our Lord asks his disciples directly, is: ‘Who do you think I am?’  That is, who do they think that Jesus is.  In some ways, it is a fairly obvious question.  He is ‘Jesus of Nazareth’.  Many of those Jesus ministered to would either have known him, or known his parents, when he was growing up.

This, after all, was the problem when he preached at his home town of Nazareth, they just couldn’t accept that this carpenter’s son was anything other than that.  They seem to have enjoyed his newly found celebrity status, what they couldn’t accept was Jesus’ implied claim to be more than this.  Jesus was claiming a significance that went far beyond mere fame.

The disciples had joined Jesus and followed him because they did believe in him and in his mission.  All the indications are that they believed him to be the promised Messiah, the one who would liberate and lead Israel to freedom.  He was obviously, a ‘charismatic figure’.  Here I am not primarily referring to the miracles he was believed to be able to perform, but to his character.

Jesus was one of those people who made an impression: everywhere he went, he created a stir.  It didn’t mean that everyone liked him or agreed with him - that is plainly not the case - but whatever they thought about him, they couldn’t ignore him.  The Pharisees, for example, found themselves constantly drawn to him despite his, at times, quite damning criticism of them.  The crowds too turned out in huge numbers to see and listen to him, even though it was far from clear that they understood a word he was saying.

Interestingly, Jesus seems to have had a particular affinity with women, and some of the most famous stories in the Gospels centre on his relationships with women.  Luke even tells us that it was rich women who financed his ministry.

His disciples were devoted to him.  We tend to focus on how they abandoned him at the end, but we need to remember that for three years they were prepared to sacrifice everything for him and were clearly aware of the threat to their own lives that this posed.  It was only because at the end he seemed to let them down that they abandoned him.  Intriguingly though, the women didn’t!

So the question now comes directly to us: ‘who do we think Jesus is?’  And it is not nearly so easy to answer as at first it might seem.

I am at present reading a book called, ‘Rediscovering Jesus’.  The authors suggest that most of our images of Jesus are composite ones drawn from a variety of sources.  We pick the passages we like from the four Gospels, throw in some verses from the letters of Paul, and then combine them with popular ideas about Jesus in the present.  The book is a challenge to rediscover Jesus as he is not as we have made him or would like him to be.

For example, if you were to try to find out about me, you might speak with Winnie, with my family in the UK, with friends who knew me growing up, with students I teach, or people I work with.  Each would tell a different story and each, I hope, would be reasonably accurate.  They would give an account of who I am from several different perspectives.  But if you then decided to select a story from Winnie, from my UK family, etc., you might well end up with a picture of someone who was rather different to the person I actually am.

What we often do with Jesus is exactly this.  And it is even worse because when it comes to Jesus we often select the stories and create the image based on a pre-determined outline of what we want the image to be either an outline of our own or of the culture we live in or both.

We come, then, to the Gospels with our outline and create a ‘pick and mix’ image of Jesus to fit it.

The image of Jesus currently being presented in our churches is very much, I believe, like this: a modern cultural creation.  It is one that completely fits the mood of our times, but you only get it by a very selective use of the Gospels.

We have created an image of Jesus that is very of the moment: someone that we would like to meet and have dinner with; someone who represents middle-class, liberal values; someone we wouldn’t even mind going on holiday with; someone that we are completely comfortable with.

And this should immediately alert us to the possibility that there is something intrinsically wrong with it.  For whatever else Jesus was, he wasn’t someone you could be comfortable with.  He was profoundly challenging and upsetting. Frankly, he must at times have been deeply annoying. Y ou would say something to him that you thought was positive and helpful and he would immediately correct you.  Or, as he did with Peter, tell you that that was the Devil speaking.  You would invite him for dinner and he would turn up with a prostitute.  You would honour him as your Lord and he would insist on washing your feet.  You would offer to follow him and he would tell you to give away all that you had first.

The image of Jesus that we have in many of our churches today is a reaction to the Jesus of the Church’s doctrine and worship in the past.  After his death and resurrection, the Church had to wrestle with the fact that they believed Jesus to be God incarnate, that is, God become human.  But what did that mean for their understanding of God?  For example, did it mean that there were two Gods or, if you included the Holy Spirit, three?  And what did it mean for their understanding of the person of Jesus himself?  For example, was he really human or did he only appear to be?

The answer that the Church came up with is summed up in the Creed we say at every Eucharist.  There is only one God, who exists in three persons all equal in divinity.  And Jesus of Nazareth was both fully human and fully divine.

Understandably, however, in her teaching and worship the focus tended to be on his divine nature and status.

In the second half of the last century in particular, there was a reaction generally against dogma and tradition and, specifically, against the Church’s traditional image of Jesus. The demand was for a more human Jesus, a Jesus who was one of us, someone who was down to earth and accessible.

After several experiments, we have now settled on the image of Jesus which is generally presented and preached in many of our churches. Not the divine Jesus of the Church’s icons, but a very approachable and likeable Jesus: the inclusive, welcoming, and non-judgemental Jesus who is always there for us and accepts us - just as we are. We may now have a Jesus we are comfortable with and who ticks all our boxes, but quite why anyone would have wanted to crucify him is a bit of a mystery.

The reading this morning is a challenge to us to rethink our image of Jesus. This is something we will be attempting to do as we approach Easter. Ultimately, the test for whether we are on the right lines or not will be whether he is someone who it is uncomfortable to be with; someone that otherwise good, religious people would want to get rid of.  The image we have of Jesus has to be one that belongs nailed to a Cross.

The voice from heaven said of Jesus: ‘Listen to him!’  For Peter, James and John the transfiguration was not just about Jesus being transformed before them, it was challenge to them to allow their own ideas about Jesus to be transformed: to see Jesus for who he really is.

This Lent, may our image of Jesus too be transformed and changed as we rediscover Jesus for ourselves.

Third Sunday before Lent

In a recent sermon I mentioned that this is the 500th anniversary this year of the European Reformation.  On October 31, 1517 a monk in Germany by the name of Martin Luther nailed 95 theses to the door of the local church calling for an academic debate on them.  At least, that is how the story came to be told.

What is clear is that Luther’s challenge to the system of indulgences went ‘viral’.  Luther challenged the idea that the Pope had the authority or ability to release people from ‘purgatory’ so buying bits of paper in order to get friends and relatives released early was a complete waste of time and money.  Ultimately, the Reformation wasn’t about abstract theological ideas:  it was about authority. 

But behind the challenge to authority there were theological ideas and in the coming years, Luther was to spell them out.  These ideas, at least as far as Luther was concerned, were anything but abstract.  They came from intense personal experience.

Luther had been destined to become a lawyer.  This was what his father had planned for him.  (Some things don’t change!)  Then one day, on a journey, he was caught in a storm and feared for his life.  He promised St Anne that if she were to save him, he would become a monk.  He did live and he honoured his promise. 

Being a monk, however, did not make him happy.  He took the whole business seriously – some including his confessor – felt too seriously.  He wanted to please God, but never felt good enough or that he could do enough to please God.  When he came across the phrase the ‘righteousness of God’, it only served to remind him of how unrighteous he was. 

Then while preparing lectures on St Paul’s Letter to the Romans, he came to see that the righteousness of God wasn’t about condemning sinners, but offering them the opportunity to be forgiven for their sins, freely, without having to do anything except have faith and trust in Christ. 

No need then for pilgrimages, confessions, religious acts and devotions, good works, penances and all the other things that were part of medieval religion.  The discovery changed his life and was to change Europe and the world. 

The doctrine of ‘justification by faith and not works’ was to become central to Protestantism.  This the Protestants believed was the message of the New Testament and the Bible.  ‘God forgave our sins in Jesus’ name’ - as we shall sing later in the service.  It is an amazing message and it has brought freedom and liberation to many.  It is celebrated in many of the hymns we sing, for example, ‘Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me…’

Nowadays there is no argument over it.  What was once a source of division between Catholics and Protestants is so no longer.  If you were to put a Catholic, Lutheran, and Anglican in a room and get them to discuss justification by faith, there would be little disagreement between them.  Indeed, I would argue that a radical version of justification by faith is the present message of all the churches.

What we preach is that Jesus is an inclusive, welcoming, forgiving, and accepting Saviour.  It doesn’t matter who you are, where you have come from, or what you have done, Jesus loves and welcomes and accepts you.  In some versions of the message, we drop the whole ‘Saviour forgiving sins’ bit.  Jesus is not the sort of person to condemn us for what we have done: after all, who is to say what is right or wrong?

Now I don’t want to spoil the party, and I like the idea that I don’t have to worry about what I have done as much as anyone.  Clearly, as Luther discovered, the New Testament does tell us that God forgives us our sins and that it is all about his grace made available to us through faith (we will talk more about this when we study Ephesians).

Luther discovered justification by faith while studying Romans.  The problem, however, is that while Romans undoubtedly teaches justification by faith, it also teaches judgment by works.  In Romans, God is a God who gets angry with sin and while he forgives those who turn to him by faith in Christ, he punishes those who fail to live as he requires.

Take, for example, this passage from chapter 2:

‘For he will repay according to each one’s deeds: to those who by patiently doing good seek for glory and honor and immortality, he will give eternal life; while for those who are self-seeking and who obey not the truth but wickedness, there will be wrath and fury. There will be anguish and distress for everyone who does evil, the Jew first and also the Greek, but glory and honor and peace for everyone who does good, the Jew first and also the Greek. For God shows no partiality.’ (Romans 2:6-11)

It is perhaps not surprising that these verses, and others like them in Romans, cause huge problems for those seeking to write commentaries on the letter.  We know that human works do not count.  The trouble is that there are many passages in both Romans and the rest of the New Testament where it seems that they do. 

All of which brings us to this morning’s passage from 1 Corinthians 3.

You will remember that the Corinthians were dividing into the ancient equivalent of fan clubs around various Christian leaders.  In dealing with the problem, St Paul diplomatically avoids talking about St Peter and instead discusses himself and Apollos who is part of his circle.  He discusses their respective roles in ministering to the Corinthians.

St Paul says that he planted, that is he established the Church, while Apollos watered, that is help it to grow.  Each St Paul says will one day find their work judged and will be rewarded accordingly.  St Paul says that he has applied this teaching about our work being judged to himself and Apollos, but it is true for all of us.  As St Paul is to write subsequently to the Corinthians:

‘For all of us must appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each may receive recompense for what has been done in the body, whether good or evil.’ (2 Corinthians 5:10)

This is a message we prefer to ignore or to see as a minor part of the New Testament.  However, the idea that we will all be judged according to our works, that is, to how we have lived our lives is central, not peripheral, to our Lord’s teaching while he was on earth. 

It is a theme of many of his parables.  Yes, of course, we love the Parable of the Prodigal Son and the story who of the Father who reaches out to his lost son and accepts him back and forgives him despite everything he has done.  We take heart from the story of the shepherd who leaves the 99 sheep to go off in search of the one that is lost.

But what of the Parable of the Sheep and Goats where the Son of Man separates people into sheep and goats?  Each are judged on how they have lived with the sheep who represent the righteous inheriting eternal life, but the goats who represent those who have failed to live as our Lord expects being sent to eternal punishment.

How, in other words, are we to hold together justification by faith and judgement by works?

Obviously, we can’t decide this issue this morning.  What we can say is that we must hold them together.  While it is tempting to favour one at the expense of the other to do so is not to be true to the Word of God.  And while it’s easy to see why we prefer one to the other, that doesn’t make it right.

One of my favourite TV programmes is the BBC programme, Dr Who.  I particularly like the present incarnation of the Doctor who is played by the actor Peter Cipaldi.  He is the oldest actor to play Dr Who and as grey hair.  You may be able to guess why such a representation might appeal to me!

One of the most famous quotes of the Doctor is:

‘We are all stories in the end.  Just make it a good one’.

All good stories have their ups and downs, high and low points, happy times and sad.  ‘Justification by faith’ reassures us that when we make a mess of things, when we fail and screw up, that God will forgive us and that his approval and love of us is not based on our works.  We won’t in other words be judged on the individual chapters, we will, however, be judged and that ought to encourage us to take seriously how we live and what our priorities in life are.

What will be our story?

One of my favourite prayers comes from an Anglican funeral service:

Lord, give us grace to use aright

the time that is left to us here on earth. 

Lead us to repent of our sins,

the evil we have done and the good we have not done;

and strengthen us to follow the steps of your Son,

in the way that leads to the fullness of eternal life;

through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

Fourth Sunday before Lent

1 Corinthians 2:1-16

One of the most difficult tasks in studying the New Testament is dating it.  We know broadly speaking when the events it describes took place, but precision eludes us.  One of the few precise dates, however, relates to the Church that St Paul wrote to in this morning’s second reading: the Church at Corinth. 

St Paul had come to Corinth to escape attempts on his life.  He, Silvanus, and Timothy, following what they believed to be the leading of the Holy Spirit, had travelled from Syria to Europe.  There they had preached the Gospel in a number of places, including Philippi and Thessalonica to which St Paul would subsequently write letters.  In both places, they encountered not only resistance, but even violent opposition.  This violence was focused primarily on the person of St Paul himself.  One of the interesting features of St Luke’s account of St Paul’s mission is how St Paul is the one that everyone seems to hate.  For example, St Paul was able to leave Timothy and Silvanus in Macedonia while he himself had to flee for his life first to Athens and then to Corinth. 

At Corinth, however, things took a turn for the better.  For the first time in Luke’s account of St Paul’s missionary journeys, St Paul is able to stay in one place.  We are told that he was in Corinth for about 18 months. 

This doesn’t mean that there wasn’t opposition:  just that it wasn’t as violent or intense as that he had encountered in Thessalonica or would encounter in Ephesus.  Such opposition as there was came to a head when one Gallio became the pro-Consul.  And this brings us back to dates.  We know that Gallio became the pro-Consul in AD 51. 

His appointment gave the Jews in Corinth an opportunity to attack St Paul.  They complained about St Paul formally to the pro-Consul.  Gallio, however, dismissed their complaint as having no basis in Roman Law.  Gallio seems to have thought it just an internal dispute amongst Jews concerning the intricacies of the Jewish religion.  This meant that the Church could continue largely unhindered.  It also meant that the Church could enjoy for the time being the same privileges as was granted under Roman Law to other Jewish groups.

Good news!  Well, yes and no.  Clearly the Church at Corinth grew and prospered.  As I have said previously, it seems to have been so successful that is attracted the stars of the first century Church.  St Paul describes the Church as lacking no spiritual gift, and he is clearly proud (if that’s the right word) of all he had been able to achieve in Corinth. 

The downside of this, however, seems to have been that success went to the Corinthians’ heads.  They were flattered by the attention they received from the celebrities of the early Church so much so that they divided into fan clubs based on the preacher they liked the most.  They were only too aware of their gifts and achievements. 

They were able to take this approach to the Christian life precisely because they didn’t have to face the sort of opposition that Churches such as Thessalonica had to face.  St Paul writes contrasting how he and his co-workers were treated compared to the Corinthians.  He doesn’t use these words exactly, but it is clear that he thought they had it easy.

From what St Paul writes, the picture we get of the Church at Corinth is of a Church that is growing numerically, that is successful and strong spiritually, and has no problems when it comes to money.  It is in every way the model of a Church that seems to be getting it right.  And this success was due in no small measure to St Paul’s extended ministry there.  Nowadays, a book would be written or a course devised to teach other churches how to emulate the Corinthians’ success.  St Paul had every right to be proud of what he had achieved. 

Except that is not how St Paul himself saw it.  St Paul is scathing in what he has to say about the Corinthians’ attitude and outlook.  Firstly, be couldn’t care less about their numerical success.  Numbers in and of themselves simply do not matter.  If they are wrong, it just means that more are wrong.  Secondly, he deplores the Corinthians sense of their own worth and achievement.  The Corinthians were outwardly successful and they knew it and were proud of it.  And this pride in their achievement lead them into many difficulties.  It was the root cause of their divisions and behind most of the problems they faced.  It lead them into immoral behavior and theological error. 

So in 1 Corinthians, St Paul is having to do two things.  He is having to tackle the specific problems in the Christian community at Corinth:  problems to do with division, sexual immorality, social involvement, spiritual gifts, and theological beliefs.  But he is also trying to tackle the underlying causes of these problems.  And this he believes is to do with a wrong view of the Christian faith. 

The Corinthians were into success and achievement.  St Paul believed the Gospel was about loss and failure.  He writes that when he was with the Corinthians he had determined to know nothing among them except Jesus Christ and him crucified.  This was certainly not a formula for success.  St Paul himself tells us that the Jews thought such an idea impossible: a stumbling-block.  How could the Christ, the Messiah, suffer such an ignominious death?  By definition, the Messiah should be an all-conquering hero, not a humiliated, defeated victim.  And the Greeks just thought the idea stupid: foolishness.  Crucifixion was the ultimate scandal; a death that was too shameful to even speak of. 

Our Lord’s death was on the Cross, but all his life was modelled on it.  And it was what he demanded of his followers.  They were to take up their cross daily.  The life of a disciple was to be one of service and sacrifice.  Jesus’ last act before his betrayal and crucifixion was to wash his disciples’ feet.  An act, he said, that was to be an example to them of how they should live as his followers. 

This is an extremely difficult message.  More than ever, we live in a success based society.  We are judged by our attainments, by our exam passes, our degrees, our job status, the brands we can afford, where we live, how well we are doing in life.  This inevitably affects how we evaluate our success or failure as a Church. 

I regularly attend a meeting of representatives of a number of churches during which we share how things are going in our respective churches.  The stories tell of success: new buildings, increased attendance at services, sound finances.

In other words, the exact same criteria is being used to judge how the church is doing as would be used to judge the success or failure of a company.  It is not that there is anything wrong necessarily with all these things, it is just that I rather suspect that if things weren’t so good, we wouldn’t get to hear about them.  The pressure to tell a success story is simply too great.

When I first started preaching, I used to go to various Methodist churches in the area where I lived.  These were small numerically, elderly, and struggling to survive.  The good thing about this, however, is that I was never under any illusion about what ministry was about.  Yes, you do get your superstars, but most ministers will never be one.  Sadly, that can lead to a feeling of failure and defeat. 

I realize that there is also another danger here.  In rejecting the world’s standards for evaluating success, we can use the Gospel of Christ crucified to justify our lack of effectiveness.  St Paul certainly criticized the Corinthians for their arrogance and self-satisfaction.  He stressed that the Lord we serve was a failure by human standards.  But he also praised those churches that were successful by divine standards: that is these churches who preached Christ crucified and which lived sacrificial lives of service. 

In other words, what matters, as far as God is concerned, is not whether we are a success or failure by human standards, but whether we are faithful.  And being faithful is solely about whether we model ourselves on the one who was humiliated and crucified.  This is not easy and at times it can be painful, but it is what we are all called to as Christians.

May God grant that we may know only Christ and him crucified and seek to follow him daily in our lives.

Epiphany 3

1 Corinthians 1:10-18

On October 31, 1517 in a relatively obscure town in Germany a monk who lectured in the university ‘nailed’ 95 theses in Latin to the Church door inviting people to debate them with him.  At least this is how the story became to be told.  Scholars are not sure whether he nailed them, posted them, or just had them printed.  However, the monk issued them, they were to have seismic consequences.

The monk was Martin Luther.  The theses were in many ways innocuous.  The cause of them was a Papal Fundraising Scheme.  The Pope wanted to build a magnificent Cathedral in Rome.  To pay for it, he issued indulgences which were sold throughout Europe.  These indulgences granted the purchaser the power to get a loved one out of purgatory. They were very popular. 

Luther, however, was opposed to them and his theses challenged their sale.  Implicit in his opposition was a challenge to the authority of the Pope.  His protest went viral as one would say today.  And it was not long before the argument became about much more than ‘indulgences’.  Western Christianity which had been united around the authority of the Pope disintegrated and the Church became extremely fragmented.  Many more joined the protest and it spread to other countries.  The word protestant came into being.  However, while the Protestants could agree on what they were against, they found it much harder to agree on what they were for.  And rather than there being one protestant church, many different churches came into existence sometimes hating each other as much as they hated the church of Rome. 

In England things were even more complicated.  Initially the King, Henry VIII, opposed the protestant movement earning himself the title of Defender of the Faith, that is, the Roman Catholic version of the faith.  However, Henry then decided he wanted a divorce and the Pope for political rather than religious reasons refused.  Thus setting in motion the English reformation and the creation of the Church of England. 

I realize that this is a very general and simple summary of what by any account was anything but simple. But I think it is accurate enough.  What is beyond dispute is that as a result of the Protestant reformation division between Christians became the norm and the different groups formed their own denominations:  Lutheran, Presbyterian, Anglican, and Baptist.  Having got a taste for division there was to be no stopping Christians and since the reformation many other denominations have come into existence. 

If you walk down Waterloo Road you see church after church all belonging to different denominations and mostly not talking to each other in any meaningful way. 

What began as a movement calling for the reform of the Church ended up dividing it.  Some regretted this, but saw it as necessary, many did not and even seemed to relish it.  You still hear people arguing that truth must always come before unity. 

I dwell on this today for 3 reasons: firstly, this year is the 500th anniversary of the reformation.  Many events are being organized to commemorate it.  We are even being invited to celebrate it.  We are going to hear a lot more about the reformation in the weeks ahead. 

Secondly, we are in the middle of the week of prayer for Christian unity.  Each year at this time Christians all over the world are invited to join together to pray for the unity of the Church.  Of course, having prayed for it, we then spend the rest of the year doing absolutely nothing about it.  I don’t think I am being unfair to say that many Christians would be horrified if it started to happen. 

Thirdly, our second reading this morning is a passage from St Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians in which he tackles division in a church be founded. 

St. Paul had spent 18 months in Corinth doing what is known as his second missionary journey.  Many were converted and the church was lively and successful.  They attracted some of the celebrities of the early church people like Apollos and Peter as well as others not so familiar to us today. 

The Corinthians seem to have been very pleased with themselves and started discussing which of the various Christian leaders they preferred.  Some argued for Paul, others for Peter, others for Apollos and they were beginning to form into groups depending which they preferred.  Paul was horrified not because some preferred other leaders to himself, but that they were prepared to divide the church. ‘Is Christ divided?’  he asked.  ‘Did Paul die for you?’  he goes on to tell them that they are the church, the body of Christ.  They’re God’s temple.  And says, ‘St Paul, anyone who destroys God’s temple God will destroy.’

So what would Paul have said about the reformation?  Some argue that Paul was prepared to cause division for the sake of the truth.  They point to Galatians and how Paul reacted to people he believed to be preaching a false Gospel. He even openly and publicly challenged Peter when he believed Peter to be in the wrong.

Of course, they argue, Paul would have supported Luther and others like him who stood as he did for the truth of the Gospel.

Personally, I am not so sure, or rather I think he would have agreed with many of the things the reformers said whether he would have been prepared to welcome the division of the Church I am not so sure.

The reality is we just do not know.  What we do know is that Paul thought the church should be united and do what it could to avoid diversity.  So when writing to Rome and knowing that there were different groups within the church each taking a different position on a variety of issues.  He tells them to accept one another and to live with the differences.  Unity, in other words, does not mean uniformity.  We can have diversity without diversity and division. 

The reality is that many of our divisions are not over key doctrines of the Christian faith, but over matters where it is of little real consequence.  This is especially true within individual churches.  Frankly, I hold out very little hope of the church reuniting.  When it comes to the different denominations my own approach is to be denomination lite.  I do not think that the Anglican Church is the one true church.  I don’t think we have got it right on every issue – not by a long way.  I do think that there are many good even outstanding Christians within other denominations so rather than working to keep my denomination apart from other denominations, I try where and when I can to work with Christians of other denominations without letting our denominational background get in the way. 

While we may not be in a position to bring about denominational unity, we certainly are in a position to affect unity within our churches.  I think we do a good job at Christ Church.  While we have our differences and disagreements, we don’t let them drive us apart as, sadly, often does happen in churches. 

There is, however, no room for complacency.  As I have said people sometimes say that the truth of the Gospel must come before unity.   But unity is part of the Gospel;  As we will see in our studies in Ephesians, St Paul sees unity as the central message of the Gospel;  Unity in the first place between us and God, but as Paul explains, peace and unity between God’s people.  He writes how the death of Christ has made possible unity between two groups who were deeply divided:  Jesus and Gentile.  So a very simple challenge to us this morning:  to maintain our unity in the bond of peace.  

Epiphany

Ephesians 3:1-12

Epiphany strictly speaking is on January 6, that is, last Thursday.  It marks both the end of the Christmas season and the beginning of a new liturgical season in its own right.  The Gospel reading today is the well-known story of the visit of the Magi.  They bring three gifts, but as to how many of them there were, we are simply not told.  The reason that this Gospel reading is chosen is because Epiphany celebrates the revelation or manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles.  The Magi represent the Gentiles.

Of course to us this is no big deal.  We just assume that Christ was born to be the Saviour of the world, but for many in the early days of the Church.  It was not nearly so straightforward.  After all, the very word ‘Christ’ that we now use as a name was originally a title meaning Messiah.  And the Messiah was to be the Messiah of the Jews fulfilling God’s promises to his chosen people. 

At first in the Church, there was resistance to even telling Gentiles about Jesus.  But as a result of a direct and unmistakable intervention by God himself through the Apostle Peter this resistance was decisively overcome.

The next question was to be the basis on which Gentiles could become members of the Church once they had accepted and believed the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  For many in the Church this was obvious: the Gentiles had to keep God’s Law as God himself had revealed it.  This Law was clear that men had to be circumcised and all men, women, and children had to obey the commandments of God.

It wasn’t, however obvious to one person: the person we now know as the Apostle Paul.  St Paul adopted not only a controversial position, he was himself a controversial person.  Very briefly: St Paul had been the leader of violent opposition to the Church.  He was a zealous and committed Jew who was fanatically opposed to the Church.  Quite why he was so opposed to the Church is not as easy a question to answer as is sometimes thought!  (This is something we will have cause to consider at the Lenten Studies!)

This committed Jew was dramatically converted on the Damascus Road and called by God to be an Apostle to the Gentiles.  Not only that, St Paul developed what was to be a highly controversial understanding of what is meant for Gentiles to become part of the people of God.

We need to be very careful here.  St Paul is often presented today as someone who reinvented Christianity. Someone who took the simple teachings of Jesus and made them altogether something different.  This, of course, is assumed to have been a bad thing.

The reality is, that as St Paul himself acknowledges, most of his understanding of key Christian teachings he got from those who were ‘in Christ before him’.  These concern such things as the death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ.  His present Lordship.  His future return.  And the gift of the Holy Spirit.  Where he differed from those who were ‘in Christ before him’ was over the place of the Gentiles in the Church and the purposes of God. 

Ironically, those who dislike St Paul nowadays don’t even think to disagree with him on this one area where he really did come up with something new.

All of which brings us to Ephesians and this morning’s reading, Ephesians 3:1-12.  Please consider what follows as something of a ‘taster’ for the Lent Studies.

Ephesians is one of the more general of St Paul’s letters.  It doesn’t have a co-sender, and it contains very little by personal references.  Only one other person is mentioned, Tychicus, who is to deliver the letter.  Actually, we do not even know that the letter was written actually written to the Ephesians, that is, to the Church in Ephesus.  The words ‘in Ephesus’ in Ephesians 1:1 are missing from some of the best manuscripts of the New Testament.  This has led many commentators to suggest that the letter we now know as the letter to the Ephesians was originally written as a circular letter to several Churches in the general region of Ephesus. 

Well we will talk more about this in Lent!

Suffice it 1to say that in the letter we now know as Ephesians, St Paul takes a big picture view of the Gospel.  He writes of how we were chosen in Christ before the foundation of the world.  What is especially significant, however, but perhaps not surprising, is that St Paul spends a great deal of time writing about the nature of the Church and of Gentiles place in it.

In Chapter 3, he writes how his present imprisonment is for the Gentiles.  By this he means it is his preaching of the Gospel to the Gentiles that has landed him in prison.  He writes of how a mystery has been made known to him by revelation.  A mystery that was not made known previously.  What is this amazing mystery?  Verse 6:

‘that is, the Gentiles has become fellow–heirs, members of the same body, and sharers in the promise in Christ Jesus through the Gospel.’

But fellow-heirs with whom?  Members of which same body?  Sharers with whom in the promise?  The answer of course is the Jews and the people of God.  This doesn’t seem so mysterious to us, does it?

It is this good news that was given to St Paul to bring to the Gentiles.  But he then says something that really is amazing.  As amazing today as it was then.  Verse 10:

‘so that through the Church the wisdom of God in its rich variety might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places.’

It is this that I now want us to dwell upon for the rest of the sermon this morning.

The phrase through the Church is inevitably a problem for us today as we can only hear and understand the word, ‘church’, in the light of 2,000 years of Christians history and, therefore, we miss what St Paul is saying 

For us the word ‘church’ inevitably means in the first place the building.  So the question: ‘are you going to Church today?’  means are you going to the building on Waterloo Road or wherever?  Secondly, the word ‘church’ conjures up the organization: synods, committees, bishops, priests, and so on.  Thirdly, it suggests the different denominations: the Roman Catholic Church, the Anglican Church, the Lutheran Church, etc.  When we hear the word ‘church’ then we hear a mixture of all three with the first, the building, predominating.

All of which is highly ironic as when those to whom St Paul was writing heard this word they would have not heard any of these three meanings.  What is more they couldn’t hear any of these three meanings.  It was simply impossible for them to do so.

Firstly, for many years, Christians simply did not own any buildings.  Not only did they not have the financial resources to do so, as they were often a persecuted group, owning property was not an option. 

This is very difficult for us to understand as the church building has taken on an existence of its own.  Not only do we see the building as the place where the Church meets, the building has become the Church.  Even to the extent that we are sometimes more concerned about the building than we are the people who meet in it!

The first Christians, however, met in the houses of those rich enough to afford one, or in small groups in apartment buildings, or in the open air, wherever, in fact, they could gather in reasonable safety.

Secondly, again, for many years organization was relatively basic.  There was some structure within the different Christian groups, but not much between them.  The idea, for example, of forming Mission Committees would have been something they would never have thought of.  Mission, after all, was something you did!

Thirdly, although there were arguments and disagreements - and we see them happening from the very beginning - the assumption was that Christians should be united not divided.  The idea of Christians being divided into different groups, separate to one another, would, again, have been unimaginable.  It was 1,000 years before there was a formal split in the Church and that was between the Church in the West and the Church in the East.  It was another 500 years before the Church split in the west.

This year, 2017, is the 500th anniversary of that split, and it is a subject we will have cause to return to.  ‘Celebrations’ have been in the planning for many years.  I, for one, will not be celebrating.  I see the Anglican Church, the denomination to which I belong, for example, as a necessary evil.  I do not see the continued institutionalized division in the body of Christ as something to be proud of.

No, when St Paul wrote the word ‘church’, he was referring to small groups of people scattered throughout the Roman Empire meeting when they could, where they could, to share their faith, eat a meal together, and support one another.  And yet St Paul says it is through these few powerless and numerically small and socially weak groups that God had decided to make his wisdom known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places.  This might have seemed ridiculous were it not for the fact that these Christians, though few in numbers, believed that Christ had triumphed over all powers and authorities and now ruled over all. 

That they believed this is itself amazing.  Roman imperial power was everywhere to be seen.  At times, it was turned directly against the Christians and they suffered the most terrible persecution, but still they continued to believe that the real power lay not with Rome, but with the Lord who they believed was with them whenever and wherever they gathered in his name.

In many parts of our world the Church is in decline and morale is low.  This is especially true in the developed world.  The Church of England, for example, continues to experience a serious falling in numbers. 

It is common in this situation for people in the Church to look back to the days when the Church appeared to be more powerful and successful, to a time when it had more influence in and on society.  Of course, that power was often a delusion: a false power.  The power we are called to exercise, however, is altogether different. 

We are to make known the wisdom of God in its rich variety to the ‘rulers and authorities’ NOT, notice, on earth, but in the heavenly places.  How on earth - you may ask – are we to do that?

First of all, by ridding ourselves of any aspiration to earthly political power.  By seeing that real power is spiritual and resides with our Lord, who, says St Paul, has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places (Ephesians 1:3).  God, says St Paul, has raised Christ and seated him in these heavenly places where he rules over all things for the sake of the Church, which St Paul then goes on to define as Christ’s body (Ephesians 1:20-23).

Secondly, by ridding ourselves of all the false notions of what the Church is and by rediscovering that it is we, you and I gathered here this morning, who are the Church, the body of Christ.  It is you and I made of flesh and blood who are God’s building, his house, and not any made of brick and mortar however special they may be.

And then, thirdly, by proclaiming the Gospel of Christ: telling people what God has done in Christ and how forgiveness and new life are to be found in him.  In doing this we make it possible for people to escape all the false powers that hold them captive and to become instead members of the body of Christ.

It is when we do this that we fulfil God’s plan for us as his people and it is then that we make known his wisdom.  A wisdom always opposed to the wisdom of this world and its rulers.

‘Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.’ (Ephesians 3:20-21)

Christmas Night 2017

Well we have at last reached Christmas! We have been counting down the weeks during Advent by lighting the Advent candles – and later, during this Service, we will light the last one! Some of us for the past few days have been counting down the days using the ‘Great O Antiphons’. All over the world tonight, Christians are celebrating the Feast of the Nativity of our Lord. Whatever we may say about Easter being theologically the most important day in the Christian calendar, there can be little doubt that Christmas is the one that is the most celebrated and loved.

It comes as a surprise then to discover that it wasn’t this way in the Church for many years. St Paul, for example, never discusses the birth of our Lord except to say that he was ‘born of a woman’, and the first Gospel we have, St Mark, launches into our Lord’s ministry without any mention of his birth or childhood.

In the 2nd century, Christians even mocked the pagans for celebrating the birthdays of prominent figures. What mattered to them was the significance, not of Jesus’ birth, but of his death. This is easily illustrated by observing how much of each Gospel is devoted to the last week of our Lord’s life compared to the years leading up to it. This does not for a moment mean that we should not today be celebrating our Lord’s birth, but it is a warning not to celebrate it in an emotional and sentimental way: enjoying the story, but failing to see its meaning and its significance for each one of us personally.

Originally, the Gospels circulated separately from each other. And not only the Gospels, but the stories of Jesus themselves. We know that the stories of Jesus were passed on not simply, or even primarily, in written form, but, in a culture with low rates of literacy, they were passed on in oral form, that is, by word of mouth. Very few of these stories concern our Lord’s birth; many concern his death and the events leading up to it.

It is clear from even the briefest of readings of the Gospels that St John’s Gospel is different from the other three. Matthew, Mark, and Luke have much in common and are referred to as the synoptic (=viewed together) Gospels. St John assumes that his readers will already be familiar with many of these stories about Jesus and that they may have read at least St Mark’s Gospel. His purpose in writing is not to tell or retell the stories, but to get behind them and explain the significance of the one who the stories are about and of the one who himself told many of the stories in the Gospels. And in explaining Jesus’ significance, St John wants to show us the significance of Jesus for each one of us personally.

The reading tonight, known as the Prologue, is the introduction to the Gospel. It sets the scene for what is to follow by telling us in advance what the plot is and introducing us to the Gospel’s central character. St John wants to leave us in absolutely no doubt as to who Jesus is. This is to be a theme of his Gospel. Whereas the other Gospels focus on what Jesus did, on his works, St John focuses on the person of Jesus, who he is.

This is the Gospel that has the ‘Great I am’ sayings. It is this person that our reading introduces us to, but St John manages to do it without at first mentioning his name. He tells us the name of John the Baptist who came to witness to Jesus, but he doesn’t use the name ‘Jesus’ until verse17.

The purpose of the Prologue is to introduce us to the Word, it is only once we have been introduced to the Word that we are told who the Word is. We are told that the Word was in the beginning with God and that all the things came into being through him. In this Word was life and light. John the Baptist bore witness to this Light, the True Light. And then, we are told, something amazing: the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

If you were reading John for the first time the obvious question at this point is, Who is he? What is his name? It is only now that St John reveals it: his name is Jesus. It is as if he is saying to his readers that this man they may have heard stories about, the one known as Jesus of Nazareth is, in fact, the Eternal Word of God through whom everything – everything – that exists came into being.

This Eternal Word came into the world that he himself hand been instrumental in creating!

But what sort of world was it? It was a world dominated by Roman power and by one man in particular: Caesar Augustus. Augustus used to like to boast of his achievements. One he was particularly proud of was the Pax Romana – the Peace of Rome. Rome, he boasted, had given the world peace. But this was simply propaganda. The so-called peace was one imposed by Roman might and power. A peace in which rebellion was ruthlessly crushed and oppression was the order of the day. This oppression found expression in tax. Rome taxed its subject peoples to maintain its power and finance its empire. Tax was not popular then as it is not popular now. But then in those days those taxed saw very little benefit from paying their taxes. In AD6 the people of Sepphoris, a major city in Galilee just 5 miles from Nazareth, revolted against paying taxes. The Romans burnt the city to the ground after crushing the revolt.

It was Roman tax policy that was to be responsible for Jesus being born in Bethlehem. As is well-known, Caesar Augustus issued a decree that ‘all the world’ should be registered for taxation purposes. All had to go to their own town to be registered. This meant Joseph having to go with his pregnant wife, Mary, from Nazareth to his home town of Bethlehem.

Caesar had displayed his power by moving people around at his whim and fancy. Or, at least, that is what he thought he was doing. In fact, he was simply a puppet fulfilling God’s purposes. The Christ had to be born in Bethlehem. The Son of David had to be born in Royal David’s City. Caesar was carrying out not the plan of Rome, but the plan of God.

2016 has been quite a year. It is already being described by commentators as a year in which the world has changed. They point to Brexit in the UK and the election of Donald Trump in the US. It has been a year of mass migration, of the increasing military involvement of Russia in world affairs, and 2017 looks like it will continue where 2016 is leaving off. There will be important elections in France and Germany. And, of course, here at home in Hong Kong, we will have the election of a new Chief Executive.

It is all too easy for us as Christians to get caught up in all of this and focus on the various events and their significance: to see power as residing in the various leaders of our world: in Washington, Moscow, and Beijing with the modern day Caesars.

This is reflected in many of the Churches’ Christmas messages. These talk of the role of the Church in the various events taking place or about to take place in our world. Those giving them seek to explain how the Church should react and what role it should play.

Undoubtedly, the events taking place in our world are important and Christians undoubtedly have a role to play in them - although it may be a different role to the one we are being urged to play. (More about that another time.)

We are wrong, however, if we focus on those who, like Caesar, pretend to have the power and fail to see behind their power. When our Lord was being questioned by Caesar’s representative in Jerusalem, Pilate said to Jesus: ‘Do you not know that I have power to release you and power to crucify you?’ Jesus answered him: ‘You would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above…’ (John 19:10-11)

This means, Trump, has no power; Putin has no power, and the new Chief Executive, whoever he or she maybe, has no power unless it is given them from above. One saint said that while still an infant at his mother’s breast, Jesus was upholding the universe with the word of his power. The danger is that by focusing on world leaders and the events of our world, we can end up thinking and giving the impression that it is with the rulers of this world that real power resides and what should concern us most are the various political, economic, and social events taking place at the present time.

In fact, there is more power here tonight in this Church than in all the parliaments or legislatives of our world. It is a power that concerns each one of us and affects us far more than all the decisions of world leaders whoever they maybe.

St John writes about the Word, who we know to be Jesus that ‘he came to his own and his own people did not accept him.’ This is the story of Jesus’ rejection by his people Israel. However, John continues: ‘But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.’

We think we have come here tonight to celebrate the birth of Christ, but it turns out that God has brought us here, not only to celebrate his son’s birth, but to ask us questions about our own birth: do we want to be born tonight, born that is, not of the will of the flesh, or of the will of man, but of God?

God is giving us the chance to make tonight not simply about the birth of his son some 2,000 years ago in Bethlehem, but about our birth now in 2016 in Hong Kong.

God does not allow us to be spectators at the Nativity. We have a decision to make. Will we be amongst those who did not receive him? Or will we receive him, that is, will we believe in his name and commit ourselves to him? If we do then tonight will become a celebration of our nativity as well as that of our Lord’s.

So tonight, on this most Holy Night, we all have a decision to make, a decision of far more consequence than we will make in any election. Will we receive him? Will we believe in his name? Will we become a child of God?

Tonight he gives us that power. The only question is now whether we will use it.