This is from Great Saling on the 18th of July
The readings were Colossians 1, 15-23and Luke 10, 38-42. As usual I had some help from Rootsontheweb
Do you often ask the question “Who’s in charge here?”
It’s usually a question that comes to mind when we are not content and wish to rectify that by speaking to a superior - perhaps we most frequently these days end up saying “can I speak to your supervisor?” to a telephone sales person. At the end of a week during which the Church of England General Synod has made a momentous decision about the future of our leadership, in voting in favour of the ordination of women as bishops, it seems quite a good question for us to ask, and it also was a very relevant question for the church at Colossae.
Colossians 1.15-28 suggests the rhythm and form of a poem or hymn – perhaps an earlier one that Paul has adapted. It is steeped in the language of creation and of people as created in God's image (c.f. Genesis 1.26), taking up the theme from the first half of chapter 1 of ‘fruitfulness’ (Genesis 1.28). Thus the promise of God's Kingdom (the new creation) is earthed in God's primeval act of creation.
Images of the Emperor were inescapable in a city like Colossae at the heart of the Roman Empire – in the markets, on coins, in the gymnasium … everywhere. They defined a social and political system totally dominated by the semi-divine Emperor, just as some might say corporate logos today define our dependency on global capitalism. In those days a rigid patron/client system meant that everyone knew their place, and any defiance of the system was dealt with swiftly and brutally. Pax Romana came at a high price in terms of personal freedom. A brutal tax system that paid for the military might on which the Empire depended terrorised peasants and small landowners, who could be sold into slavery if they couldn't pay. At least our coalition government has gone that far yet!
Against this background, Paul contrasts the image of Jesus with that of Caesar. Paul's first readers couldn’t fail to identify the 'thrones and dominions and rulers and powers' (v. 16) with Caesar and his vast empire, as well as with the cults which reinforced it. The apostle want to make the point that political power doesn't rest on military or economic might, on men or their gods, but on the true God who created all things (v. 16). He is the only true Lord and object of worship. This perspective relativises political power and prevents it toppling into totalitarianism; it was this insight that lay at the heart of Dietrich Bonheoffer’s opposition to Hitler in the 1930s.
And it is a helpful insight for our government as they walk the fine line between saving money and saving their necks in the “turnaround”. I guess economic recovery might even be seen as an idol – the idol of growth,
And with the church politics this week, and all the wrangling and wringing of hands tears of joy and tears of frustration, it is good to pause and remind ourselves that even at times when it may not appear so (depending on which broadsheet newspaper you read) God is in fact in charge of our church, and that we need to let him have that charge instead of wrestling it from him.
That said, Luke 10.38-42 is a fascinating reading for this week – it is the one in the lectionary. We will now have women bishops in this country. One obvious feature of Luke's Gospel is its sympathetic portrayals of women, who, as we know from both Acts and Paul's letters, were prominent members of the first churches. Luke is reflecting a religious context in which 'there is neither male nor female '. For every order of the church now, that will be true, as indeed for every order of society it ought to be.
The story presents us with two conventional images of woman. We have Martha, the 'housewife', bustling around with her chores; and Mary, the submissive woman, meekly kneeling and listening to her Master's voice. I wonder which of the two might be a woman bishop (or at least, where we are now, someone campaigning for them).
Martha is perhaps a campaigner, very active, getting stuff done, bustling around (and if we’re very honest, sometimes neglecting the real business of the church’s mission), so we might say she typifies the attitude of a female supporter of women bishops. Mary on the other hand, seems rather passive and submissive, not typical characteristics of a female bishop in waiting. However, lets remember 2 things; first, Mary has chosen to listen to the Lord, and submit to his authority, and pay him the attention he merits, which are good characteristics of a Christian leader. Secondly and more relevantly to this weeks events, Mary has crossed a divide in the cultural norms of her day; it would be quite unusual for a Jewsih rabbi and a woman to be seated next to each other ina home environment. Some say that they shouldn’t even really have been in the same room. So mary appears passive but is in fact taking a big step (I geuss in faith) that will set her against the cultural norms of her day.
Now that is the way of the woman bishop. And for those who did wait patiently for the Synod to sort themselves out (if you haven’t worked it out by now I am hugely in favour of women in the episcopate), what a great final line; “Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her”.
There is also a link with the Good Samaritan story that precedes it. Martha parallels the priest and Levite, who are too busy, too preoccupied, to stop and attend to the mugged man. Mary, however, attends to Jesus despite the opprobrium of her sister. Are there those in our churches who are so preoccupied with rules, committees and agendas that they cannot stop to wait on God – or the world? It is a good thing that we have women bishops. If you are worried about the effect on us here in the parishes I don’t think we will see much difference. The supreme governor of the Church of England has been a woman for the last 58 years after all.
So it is a good thing, but it is not the main thing; as a friend of mine paraphrased in a sermon the other week, “the harvest is plentiful but the workers are in the barn arguing about what colour the tractor should be”.
There is a task before us, and rather than just looking busy like Martha, we would do well, whether we are bishops or just normal Christians, to listen to our Lord, and sit under his authority.
Wednesday 21 July 2010
Sermon at Lindsell and Little Saling, 11th July
I'm very pleased to say our placement student from Ridley Hall, Jody Stowell, has consented to guest post her sermon on this blog. If you want to read more of her work have a look at her blog, Radical Evangelical.
Amos7.7-17
Luke 10.25-37
So this morning we have our two texts, one from the prophet Amos and the other, a rather better known text from Luke, the Good Samaritan. It may seem at first glance that one has little to do with the other. The God of Amos is declaring anger towards God’s people, the Israelites: that God will no more be present with them and that Israel are to be sold into exile.
And then we have our Good Samaritan passage. Which is nice, isn’t it? This teacher, trying to discover what God wants him to do, is told to be neighbourly. And we like neighbourliness don’t we? Neighbourliness is good, it draws us together and it makes our communities work well and harmoniously together. Doesn’t it? Does it?
Did you ever wonder why Jesus tells this story this way round? He doesn’t actually entirely answer the question that is being asked. It’s kind of a way of Jesus, to not quite answer the question, but to create new ones.
Because, Jesus has just told this man to ‘love your neighbour as yourself’ and the man asks Jesus ‘so, who is my neighbour?’..... ‘who’s this neighbour, that I’ve got to be neighbourly to?’
You’ve probably heard before that it was a bit unexpected that it was the Samaritan who stopped. And that’s putting it mildly. Samaritans were not generally thought to be ‘good sorts’, in fact they were considered to be the lowest of the low, by the Jews. Impure trash.
But actually, in the story, it isn’t the Samaritan who Jesus wants the Jew to be neighbourly to. It’s the other way around. Jesus requires the Jew to accept the neighbourliness of the Samaritan.
As a Jew, you wouldn’t want a Samaritan touching you, let alone dressing your wounds and paying for you, I mean, how embarrassing, does this guy have no pride?
What do you think? Do you think that the Samaritan’s actions would lead to a more harmonious community for the Jew who had been helped out?
What do you think it did for him in his community, to be helped out by the ‘trash’ who lived over the road? The Samaritans are dirty, wicked people. Jews should die rather than accept the help of this piece of filth.
The man asks ‘who is my neighbour’ and the answer will cause him great discomfort.
_______________
Now, let’s just park that for a minute and have a little look at the Amos passage.
God is seriously ticked off with his people, isn’t he?
Why on earth would God want to sell them? It all seems a bit dramatic doesn’t it? What was it that they had done so wrong?
Amos tells us:
Hear this you that trample on the needy, and bring to ruin the poor of the land, saying, ‘When will the new moon be over so that we may sell grain; and the Sabbath, so that we may offer wheat for sale? We will make the ephah small and the shekel great, and practise deceit with false balances, buying the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals, and selling the sweepings of the wheat.’ 8v4-6
and
I hate and despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies. Even though you offer me your burnt-offerings and grain-offerings, I will not accept them; and the offerings of well-being of your fatted animals I will not look upon. Take away from me the noise of your songs; I will not listen to the melody of your harps. But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. 5v21-24
God is the God of justice for the poor and the oppressed and the outcast. They are the ones who do the worst because of those who cheat, those who fiddle the weights of the grain to give short measures or who don’t leave the last dregs of the wheat for the poor to pick up.
And, Amos says, it’s God’s people who have been the cheats! – they are meant to be the bringers of God’s justice to the earth, God’s shalom, but they are the cheats. And God says ‘no’... ‘My people are to be neighbourly’.
Neighbourly is one of those words that gets lost a bit, it can seem a bit mild. But actually it is a strong word, to live together with those around you, to accept them and who they are, even if they are sometimes very different from you. To give them, not just the fair things that they deserve, but an extra portion of whatever you have. This is true neighbourliness.
___________________________
So we return to our teacher, who gets much more than I think he bargained for, when he asks Jesus ‘who is my neighbour?’
The teacher knows his history, he knows that God’s people are to be ‘neighbourly’. This is the call of God’s people from the beginning, to welcome the widow and orphan and the foreigner. Throughout the whole of God’s story with his people, God has been known as the God of the widow and the orphan and the foreigner, those who are the underclass and the underdog in our society. This teacher knows that it is God’s people who are to be ‘neighbourly’.
So when Jesus introduces the one who is being neighbourly in this story as the Samaritan. He is not only saying, ‘hey these guys who you hate, they are your neighbour, be nice to them’, it’s actually much more radical than that. He is saying, ‘these guys who you hate, they can be my people’. They are welcomed in, they are not the excluded anymore and anyone who reaches out to those in need, anyone who is neighbourly, in the radically compassionate definition of that word, defines themselves as belonging to God.
And those who don’t reach out to those in need, says our passage in Amos, have no right to expect God to be present with them. Whether they think they are God’s people or not.
God’s people are those who are neighbourly.
___________________________
So as we step out into this week and we look around us to see where God is at work in our communities, may he open our eyes and hearts to those who need God’s all embracing love and may he give us the courage and strength we need to be those who bring that love and neighbourliness to those around us. May we be God’s people in this place.
Amos7.7-17
Luke 10.25-37
So this morning we have our two texts, one from the prophet Amos and the other, a rather better known text from Luke, the Good Samaritan. It may seem at first glance that one has little to do with the other. The God of Amos is declaring anger towards God’s people, the Israelites: that God will no more be present with them and that Israel are to be sold into exile.
And then we have our Good Samaritan passage. Which is nice, isn’t it? This teacher, trying to discover what God wants him to do, is told to be neighbourly. And we like neighbourliness don’t we? Neighbourliness is good, it draws us together and it makes our communities work well and harmoniously together. Doesn’t it? Does it?
Did you ever wonder why Jesus tells this story this way round? He doesn’t actually entirely answer the question that is being asked. It’s kind of a way of Jesus, to not quite answer the question, but to create new ones.
Because, Jesus has just told this man to ‘love your neighbour as yourself’ and the man asks Jesus ‘so, who is my neighbour?’..... ‘who’s this neighbour, that I’ve got to be neighbourly to?’
You’ve probably heard before that it was a bit unexpected that it was the Samaritan who stopped. And that’s putting it mildly. Samaritans were not generally thought to be ‘good sorts’, in fact they were considered to be the lowest of the low, by the Jews. Impure trash.
But actually, in the story, it isn’t the Samaritan who Jesus wants the Jew to be neighbourly to. It’s the other way around. Jesus requires the Jew to accept the neighbourliness of the Samaritan.
As a Jew, you wouldn’t want a Samaritan touching you, let alone dressing your wounds and paying for you, I mean, how embarrassing, does this guy have no pride?
What do you think? Do you think that the Samaritan’s actions would lead to a more harmonious community for the Jew who had been helped out?
What do you think it did for him in his community, to be helped out by the ‘trash’ who lived over the road? The Samaritans are dirty, wicked people. Jews should die rather than accept the help of this piece of filth.
The man asks ‘who is my neighbour’ and the answer will cause him great discomfort.
_______________
Now, let’s just park that for a minute and have a little look at the Amos passage.
God is seriously ticked off with his people, isn’t he?
Why on earth would God want to sell them? It all seems a bit dramatic doesn’t it? What was it that they had done so wrong?
Amos tells us:
Hear this you that trample on the needy, and bring to ruin the poor of the land, saying, ‘When will the new moon be over so that we may sell grain; and the Sabbath, so that we may offer wheat for sale? We will make the ephah small and the shekel great, and practise deceit with false balances, buying the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals, and selling the sweepings of the wheat.’ 8v4-6
and
I hate and despise your festivals, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies. Even though you offer me your burnt-offerings and grain-offerings, I will not accept them; and the offerings of well-being of your fatted animals I will not look upon. Take away from me the noise of your songs; I will not listen to the melody of your harps. But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. 5v21-24
God is the God of justice for the poor and the oppressed and the outcast. They are the ones who do the worst because of those who cheat, those who fiddle the weights of the grain to give short measures or who don’t leave the last dregs of the wheat for the poor to pick up.
And, Amos says, it’s God’s people who have been the cheats! – they are meant to be the bringers of God’s justice to the earth, God’s shalom, but they are the cheats. And God says ‘no’... ‘My people are to be neighbourly’.
Neighbourly is one of those words that gets lost a bit, it can seem a bit mild. But actually it is a strong word, to live together with those around you, to accept them and who they are, even if they are sometimes very different from you. To give them, not just the fair things that they deserve, but an extra portion of whatever you have. This is true neighbourliness.
___________________________
So we return to our teacher, who gets much more than I think he bargained for, when he asks Jesus ‘who is my neighbour?’
The teacher knows his history, he knows that God’s people are to be ‘neighbourly’. This is the call of God’s people from the beginning, to welcome the widow and orphan and the foreigner. Throughout the whole of God’s story with his people, God has been known as the God of the widow and the orphan and the foreigner, those who are the underclass and the underdog in our society. This teacher knows that it is God’s people who are to be ‘neighbourly’.
So when Jesus introduces the one who is being neighbourly in this story as the Samaritan. He is not only saying, ‘hey these guys who you hate, they are your neighbour, be nice to them’, it’s actually much more radical than that. He is saying, ‘these guys who you hate, they can be my people’. They are welcomed in, they are not the excluded anymore and anyone who reaches out to those in need, anyone who is neighbourly, in the radically compassionate definition of that word, defines themselves as belonging to God.
And those who don’t reach out to those in need, says our passage in Amos, have no right to expect God to be present with them. Whether they think they are God’s people or not.
God’s people are those who are neighbourly.
___________________________
So as we step out into this week and we look around us to see where God is at work in our communities, may he open our eyes and hearts to those who need God’s all embracing love and may he give us the courage and strength we need to be those who bring that love and neighbourliness to those around us. May we be God’s people in this place.
Sunday 4 July 2010
Lindsell 4th July
Readings Galatians 6, 1-16, Luke 10, 1-20. Some stuff from Roots
In Galatians 6 Paul explores the idea that Christians are part of a new order in which the constraints of Torah Judaism are transcended. In Luke's Gospel, the good news is for everyone, not just those whose religion is defined by the same Torah. Both our readings today have Old Testament connections, but both of them can speak to us today in our situation here in Lindsell. Or indeed anywhere.
In my internet surfing this week I have read a lot of reaction from vicars and other Christians to the new BBC 2 series “Rev”, a comedy set in an inner London parish; I watched it and (apart from the swearing) thought it passable though not much like my own life or ministry (thank God). Interestingly though, the portrayal of the vicar as essentially a glorified social worker (and a rather weedy one at that) drew much criticism among my clergy friends. Not that there is no social element to Christian ministry, but that it was being presented as the only element, in the eyes of some viewers. Galatians 6 contains the verse that gives Paul’s version of Jesus’ summary of the law – bear one another’s burdens and so fulfil the law of Christ, so we know that we are called to care for others, and for the fellowship of believers, and in so doing we proclaim the love God has for the world, and indeed bring it into effect in our own actions.
But is “do as you would be done by” really all there is to being a Christian? I think the second half of Galatians 6 and our gospel reading show us clearly that it is simple, but not quite as simple as that popular misconception. These passages are about what is distinctive about Christians, telling us no t only to care for those around us now, but also to look to the Kingdom of God as the ideal community, delineated by God’s grace, not by human legalism or ritual. And not just to look to it, but to proclaim it.
Circumcision was enjoined on Abraham as a mark of the covenant between Israel and God (Genesis 17.9-14), and from the time of the Exile it became a sign of Jewish distinctiveness. Other ancient peoples also required this operation, although the biblical stipulation of circumcision on the eighth day after birth removes its function elsewhere as a puberty or pre-marital rite. The Messianic Jews who opposed Paul's mission to the Gentiles apparently insisted that Gentiles had to be circumcised before becoming Christians – pretty painful without anaesthetic. Such a badge of membership also excludes women, who were clearly prominent in the Pauline communities. Paul replies that 'in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything'; but the 'new creation' is everything. In other words, God is no longer looking for outward ritual commitment, but inner spiritual rebirth through faith in the one who brings in the Kingdom.
And the gospel reading completes the picture. Luke 10 verse 1 is a clear allusion to Numbers 11.16-17,24-25, where Moses appointed seventy 'elders', whose purpose is not made clear. Here, however, the mission of the seventy is clearly delineated, and it is also clear that they are not to expect an easy time (v. 3). They are told to carry no possessions and to speak to no one – rather as today when, if you venture into certain city areas, it is best not to take your credit cards or your mobile phone, and to keep yourself to yourself. Travelling light is often a means of self preservation.
This passage is framed by two stories about Samaritans. At Luke 9.51-53 they are represented as hostile; whereas in the Good Samaritan parable (Luke 10.29-37),the Samaritan is the 'hero'. Luke is warning his original readers of the risks attached to being Christians. They had already faced the Neronian persecutions – and more were to follow – as well as Jewish opposition. And so Samaria, along with Tyre, Sidon, etc. come to represent the hostile forces that the Seventy will have to face – just as Jesus himself was to face growing hostility as he 'set his face to go to Jerusalem' and to the ultimate hostility of the cross.
Luke 10 verses 13-15 show that this episode is an anticipation of eschatological judgement. How people respond to Jesus and his message now will determine how they will be judged in the Kingdom of God. The choice is stark: either they receive the 'worker' or they will be brushed aside like so much dust. 'The Kingdom of God has come near to you' (v. 9) –in the person of Jesus – and those who reject him bring upon themselves the fate of Tyre and Sidon.
Yet the mission is vindicated. The Seventy return jubilant, and their mission's success acquires cosmic significance as demons concede defeat and even Satan himself falls from the sky. There is a lot of bad news about the church these days, and so I guess I’m glad that “Rev” at least presented us with a priest with a sense of humour and a genuine family life, but more than that I am glad and privileged to serve in parishes like this one where people take seriously the call to care, and the call to proclaim god’s good news to all.
In Galatians 6 Paul explores the idea that Christians are part of a new order in which the constraints of Torah Judaism are transcended. In Luke's Gospel, the good news is for everyone, not just those whose religion is defined by the same Torah. Both our readings today have Old Testament connections, but both of them can speak to us today in our situation here in Lindsell. Or indeed anywhere.
In my internet surfing this week I have read a lot of reaction from vicars and other Christians to the new BBC 2 series “Rev”, a comedy set in an inner London parish; I watched it and (apart from the swearing) thought it passable though not much like my own life or ministry (thank God). Interestingly though, the portrayal of the vicar as essentially a glorified social worker (and a rather weedy one at that) drew much criticism among my clergy friends. Not that there is no social element to Christian ministry, but that it was being presented as the only element, in the eyes of some viewers. Galatians 6 contains the verse that gives Paul’s version of Jesus’ summary of the law – bear one another’s burdens and so fulfil the law of Christ, so we know that we are called to care for others, and for the fellowship of believers, and in so doing we proclaim the love God has for the world, and indeed bring it into effect in our own actions.
But is “do as you would be done by” really all there is to being a Christian? I think the second half of Galatians 6 and our gospel reading show us clearly that it is simple, but not quite as simple as that popular misconception. These passages are about what is distinctive about Christians, telling us no t only to care for those around us now, but also to look to the Kingdom of God as the ideal community, delineated by God’s grace, not by human legalism or ritual. And not just to look to it, but to proclaim it.
Circumcision was enjoined on Abraham as a mark of the covenant between Israel and God (Genesis 17.9-14), and from the time of the Exile it became a sign of Jewish distinctiveness. Other ancient peoples also required this operation, although the biblical stipulation of circumcision on the eighth day after birth removes its function elsewhere as a puberty or pre-marital rite. The Messianic Jews who opposed Paul's mission to the Gentiles apparently insisted that Gentiles had to be circumcised before becoming Christians – pretty painful without anaesthetic. Such a badge of membership also excludes women, who were clearly prominent in the Pauline communities. Paul replies that 'in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything'; but the 'new creation' is everything. In other words, God is no longer looking for outward ritual commitment, but inner spiritual rebirth through faith in the one who brings in the Kingdom.
And the gospel reading completes the picture. Luke 10 verse 1 is a clear allusion to Numbers 11.16-17,24-25, where Moses appointed seventy 'elders', whose purpose is not made clear. Here, however, the mission of the seventy is clearly delineated, and it is also clear that they are not to expect an easy time (v. 3). They are told to carry no possessions and to speak to no one – rather as today when, if you venture into certain city areas, it is best not to take your credit cards or your mobile phone, and to keep yourself to yourself. Travelling light is often a means of self preservation.
This passage is framed by two stories about Samaritans. At Luke 9.51-53 they are represented as hostile; whereas in the Good Samaritan parable (Luke 10.29-37),the Samaritan is the 'hero'. Luke is warning his original readers of the risks attached to being Christians. They had already faced the Neronian persecutions – and more were to follow – as well as Jewish opposition. And so Samaria, along with Tyre, Sidon, etc. come to represent the hostile forces that the Seventy will have to face – just as Jesus himself was to face growing hostility as he 'set his face to go to Jerusalem' and to the ultimate hostility of the cross.
Luke 10 verses 13-15 show that this episode is an anticipation of eschatological judgement. How people respond to Jesus and his message now will determine how they will be judged in the Kingdom of God. The choice is stark: either they receive the 'worker' or they will be brushed aside like so much dust. 'The Kingdom of God has come near to you' (v. 9) –in the person of Jesus – and those who reject him bring upon themselves the fate of Tyre and Sidon.
Yet the mission is vindicated. The Seventy return jubilant, and their mission's success acquires cosmic significance as demons concede defeat and even Satan himself falls from the sky. There is a lot of bad news about the church these days, and so I guess I’m glad that “Rev” at least presented us with a priest with a sense of humour and a genuine family life, but more than that I am glad and privileged to serve in parishes like this one where people take seriously the call to care, and the call to proclaim god’s good news to all.
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