Parish OfficeChristmas Day 2008
The Christmas story that we all know so well is plastered (literally) over the wall of St Wilfrid's on this side of the church. It starts with the angel Gabriel announcing that Mary is to have the baby and then shows the angels telling the good news to shepherds – then we move on to the stable at the back of an inn where Jesus was born and from there to the visit of the wise men (or three kings) and so on. We finish with Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus escaping King Herod and closing the door behind them.
Fr Terry has just read to us part of the Christmas story – or at least part of one of them! You see the pictures on our wall are pictures that come from different story-tellers.
As you know there are four accounts of Jesus life written by the four evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. The pictures on our wall come from just two of those story-tellers – St Luke and St Matthew. St Matthew's story is set against the cruel rule of King Herod and so the picture of the wise men comes from his book and so does the last one. The rest of the pictures are from St Luke's story of Christmas that we have just heard….the story told by our St Wilfrid's Christmas card this year.
In a way, the story of the birth of Jesus is quite ordinary. We are familiar with the laws and regulations of government making few exceptions or compromises for people's individual circumstances. It didn't matter that Mary was expecting a baby. Tired, pregnant and heavy she has to go with her husband to register for the census. And when there are unusual crowds in town for any reason, the accommodation all gets booked up and filled – no room at the inn. In such circumstances, the relative privacy of a stable and a bit of shelter would have been a good bet. Not quite the sophisticated delivery suite of the 21st century, but not so very far removed from a baby's birth in humble surroundings a few generations ago.
What is much more demanding of our trust is the next bit of the story – the vision of angels to the shepherds. Now that is far more strange and unusual!
Shepherds are an interesting lot. They weren't reliable old dales farmers. They were poor-ish and had a reputation for being a bit rough and with anti-social habits. One of my books says they had a reputation rather like the gypsies and a habit of mistaking other people's property for their own. I do not wish to stigmatise shepherds or travellers, but both seem to have been similarly looked down upon and to have lived on the fringes of society – not always welcome, not always popular and not quite fitting in with everyone else.
It was to these people that God the Father first sent his messengers. The angels, the messengers of God were sent first of all – not to the pillars of society, to governors, religious leaders or the like – but to the misfits camping out on the hillside. God the Father first communicates with the 'outsider'…the fringer….rather as Jesus will do when he grows up to be a man. So Jesus' first visitors were not relatives but a dodgy bunch of shepherds. They were his first 'friends'. Making friends with more establishment types would be more difficult and sometimes impossible. It wasn't dodgy dishonest misfits who conspired to put Jesus to death on the cross – it was the establishment, Jewish, Roman & religious. The condemned thief on the cross next to him simply asks that Jesus will remember him when he comes to his kingdom.
Today, though, it is not the shepherds that have come to saint Wilfrid's to worship Jesus, to pay homage – it is you and me – but if we are really friends of Jesus, then we will always have some rather odd friends. My late brother-in-law was a solicitor in Swansea. He was a good man and, I suppose, rather 'establishment' – but he had an amazing circle of slightly dodgy friends some of whom had needed his professional advice in the courts. When he died young, they turned out to his funeral along with the police and the local lawyers. That is how we Christians are bound to be too; if we are friends of Jesus, we are bound to have a number of people from the fringes of society among our friends – dishonest people like the tax collectors, prostitutes, simple folk, people who are sick, disabled or disfigured, people of whom others are frightened and are maybe a bit mad...
The Christ child came to show everybody that they have worth and that God loves them; the only people who are really excluded – exclude themselves by considering themselves wiser than Jesus and better than others. So here we all are a mixed crowd to give thanks for the birth of someone who came to save us from our selves and from our selfish ways…..and if we aren't varied enough and there are too few rough diamonds, then maybe we ought to be less careful in making friends and so make a few more friends on the fringes of society.
Christmas Midnight
What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
I suppose that it is every preacher's wish at Christmas-time, to say something that is memorable, something that will make a difference to listeners. Surely, every preacher would like to say something that sheds a new light on the familiar Christmas story. …every preacher would like to unlock some secret that allowed a new ‘penny to drop'. And yet, at Christmas, we don't always feel like ‘something new'…..very often people are attracted less by the new than by the familiar and the reassuring – ‘traditional'.
Christmas Cards often depict a kind of idealised Victorian Christmas, set in the good old days when carol singers were organised groups of decently-robed choristers in sufficient number to make a merry noise - and not pairs of kids who have added this to their calendar of ‘trick-or-treating' and other profit-making scams. Romanticised films show families gathering for Christmas….with adult children returning to Mom and Dad, before meeting up with old friends who have grown more attractive - in every way - since last they had met. It can be done with American accents and it can be done in the Queen's English, but there is a huge nostalgia factor to Christmas which perhaps makes us less interested in the new than the old.
If there is something else that makes people look backwards, it is adversity. When times are hard, people look back to when they were better. We've always done it; Scripture's full of it. When things look bleak, there is a great temptation to look back to a golden age when things were better ordered, safer and secure. The financial anxieties of the last few months, perhaps combine with Christmas to make this the least promising Christmas for a preacher who wants to look forward – or perhaps the most tempting to collude with the idea of a golden age in the past – when family life seemed more stable, when carol singers could agree to meet outside Woollies, when the snow was whiter, the log-fires were warmer – and no one got drunk but everyone was merry – and of course everybody went to a full church…..usually in a very pretty village with more musically educated singers than you'd expect to find in Dibley or Midsummer Choral!
In the hard light of day, I don't suppose any of us is entirely convinced by the golden age when times were good….. but why do we always look BACK to when times were good and not forwards? Well, of course, if we look ahead, those who understand finance and economics are not telling us very happy things about the foreseeable future. International politics can seem bleak too, with continued strife in Zimbabwe, The Congo, Iraq and Afghanistan. Burying our heads in the Victorian Illusion that Harrogate so easily provides is a very attractive respite or retreat from reality over a Christmas break.
Christmas, however, is not about looking back. It is about new beginnings and looking forward. The birth of a child is a time for looking ahead in hope. Can you imagine going to see a new baby and his parents and saying ‘O, isn't he lovely – but wasn't it better before he arrived!'
The child whose birth we celebrate tonight is described by Saint John the Evangelist as ‘the light that shines in the darkness'. Now I am a sucker for lights. I love lights. Moths, I think are the most loathsome of God's creatures, but I do share with them a love of lights. I love Harrogate's Christmas lights along the side of the Stray and down Montpellier. I have a sneaking regard for those cars that have under-sill blue lighting that shines on the road in the dark. I can still identify most British cars of the 1960s by the shape of their rear lights. I love lingering outside lighting shops with their displays of lamps – stained glass shades, green-shaded desk lamps, brass fittings for illuminating the pictures I shall never own. I love lights. Different kinds of light allow you to see things differently. We see people or events ‘in a certain light' or ‘in a different light'. We use light for varying purposes: to create different kinds of atmosphere and ambiance – to reveal all that needs to be seen in an operating theatre or laboratory – to illuminate the motorway – to expose by Ultra-Violet light forged notes at a supermarket. Have you noticed how artists have used light in your Christmas cards this year? Take a look at them…..at least take a look at the ones which depict the scene at the stable. You will invariably see that the warm light is centred in the crib. At first glance, it seems that there is a spotlight on the central person, an artistic device to draw your attention to the central figure of Christ. But look again and we see that the light isn't so much shining on the baby boy in the manger – but shining from him. Look at his light reflected in the faces of those gazing into the manger. He IS the light not just IN the light……but his light reflects upon and lights up those who come to him – shepherds, angels, wise men, accountants, solicitors, teachers, lawyers, pensioners and children.
Christ, the light of the world, is very God of Very God; he is the God-man. …..and THAT sheds a new light on everything. There is no situation that is not transformed by the light of Christ. Christ is the light who, in himself, is a new way of looking at things. Christmas is a new beginning whenever Christ becomes a person's ‘world view'. The world looks different in the light of Christ. Sure, the light of Christ exposes the selfish, evil, dangerous and wickedness of the world, but he also exposes goodness, kindness, self-lessness and the good purposes of God our Father. The one born tonight is a light who presents us with a new world-view that is different from the world's view of itself. He is a different way of looking at things.
If Christ becomes the way we look at things, then he will change our perspective on money and so what we are prepared to do to earn it. He will change the way we look at politics and international relations and what sacrifices we are prepared to make for a common good. He will change the way we look at law, regulation, punishment and restoration. He will change the priorities of our existence, so that a lack of what we once thought important, valuable or indispensable seems far less important in the light of what now seems at the heart of life.
I am not sure I can set Christmas in a new light – but how could anyone set the light that lightens all people in a new light? What I can do is this: I can tell you that the light which comes into the world tonight is not just for Christmas, nor just for the holiday. He is a light that no darkness has ever comprehended and no darkness has ever overcome.
November 16th
2 Before Advent 2008
Britain's got talent!
It is a television program that I don't think I have ever seen – but I understand that like the X Factor (which I don't watch either) it is a rather painful talent show in which hundreds nay thousands of wannabe-famous performers make largely vain attempts to get noticed. Britain's got talent.
By ‘talent' of course, the program implies skill, gift, aptitude, a certain outstanding ability. Similarly, in contemporary edu-speak, the cohort of what we might one have called ‘very bright' children are now tagged ‘gifted and talented'.
In St Matthew's day, a ‘talent' was not a particular skill or aptitude. It was cash. It was a measure of silver and it represented a labourers pay for about twenty whole years. A talent was a seriously large sum of money. If a labourer was paid today's National Minimum wage, it would be something in the region of a quarter of a Million pounds. So the chap in today's parable had a very large sum of money to entrust to his stewards – we might imagine it to be say a couple of million.
That, I'll wager, seems an awful lot of money to all of us here. ….and with the present financial crisis moving into a recession, which of us couldn't do with a few extra talents in the bank?
I learned recently that to have any money in a bank – whatsoever – even a few quid in the post office – puts you in the wealthiest 5–8 % of the world's population. When you put Britons alongside most people in the world, it gives a new meaning to that phrase ‘BRITAIN'S GOT TALENT' We may not have as much to spend as we'd like to have, but when it comes to ‘talents' of cash, far more has been entrusted to you and me than has been entrusted to most people in the world.
I will not pretend to have a good understanding of the financial sector, of markets, stocks, shares and hedge funds. Frankly I rely very heavily on our Treasurer when it come to financial business and we are hugely fortunate in Graham Harrison. It does not take a financial whiz-kid, however, to know that more and more people are being more and more cautious about their spending. The future seems uncertain, risky and fraught with anxiety. Homes, cars and jobs are all vulnerable to a recession that can remove our ability to pay our own debts – even debts that are very very modest by the standards of our age. Recession makes us feel insecure and nervous – vulnerable.
Now to make matters worse, all of this has come about at the very time that energy prices have gone through the roof with gas and electricity bills way above what they were only a little while ago. And as for filling the car up – well! And to top it all Christmas is coming.
Things seem to be getting harder all round and the financial reports on every news broadcast do nothing to dispel the feeling that things can only get worse for the foreseeable future. I say all this, not because I am a pessimist nor because I want to depress you but to establish the fact that I recognise that times are harder than we have been used to of late.
Only last week we commemorated those who gave their lives in conflict. Certainly we recalled those who have died in recent conflicts – but in terms of sheer numbers – and perhaps of memories represented here, maybe we were thinking more about the First and Second World Wars. They had a profound effect upon the lifestyle of a whole generation of people and more. My parents were kids during the 2nd WW and yet their war-time frugalness pervaded their attitudes throughout my up-bringing too. ‘Waste not want not!' - ‘You don't have to like it, you just have to eat it!'
War has the capacity to bring out the very worst in people, and perhaps springs out of the very worst in humanity. It also has the capacity to bring out the very best in people, the courage recognised in the VC the GC, DSO-DFC and so on. It binds servicemen together in a comradeship and mutual trust that peace-time rarely seems to require of people.
In short, adversity tests our metal. It tests our priorities; it tests our courage, our dependability, our loyalty and our honesty. The present financial constraints may not be fun – but they will put us to the test; they will try our loyalty our convictions and our commitment. Only a few days ago, the former Archbishop of York, Lord Thornes, reminded us not to forget the poor as recession bites…and he was right.
If you are finding things tight at the moment, it will test your commitment to the charities you support – and maybe your commitment to the church too. If the recession presents you with some financial challenges, it presents you with a decision: should you pass on those difficulties to the charities you support so that it is the poor, the sick and the week that bear the cost of your challenge? – or do you list them as your priorities, the people you need all the more to support through financial crisis? Where will you be cutting your cloth and whose belt will you tighten?
The challenges that face individuals in the recession face the church too. Our income has declined by about £600 by comparison with November last year. That is not huge and one decent collection would put it right – but unlike last year, St Wilfrid's is running at a loss of around £20,000 this year. Why? Largely because energy and insurance costs have risen so sharply. The PCC is committed to maintaining the present level of its giving to charities and indeed to raising it a little in line with our aspirations to give away the same proportion of our income that we ask of church members: £5%. Saint Wilfrid's plans to remain true to its commitments.
This week financial crisis on an international scale coincides with the approach of Advent, when like the men in this morning's Gospel parable, we prepare for the return of the master. Britain's got talent, we've got talent - and when he who gave it to us asks us to give an account of our stewardship, we must be ready to say how we used it for his purposes.
Whether you are steward of considerable resources or simply of the widow's mite, as we go into Advent in a couple of week's time, we are in testing times. They are times that will put us on our metal and reveal the level of our commitment to Gospel values. Hardship and sacrifice is never easy, but how we react to them is a measure of loyalty, commitment and love. Brothers and sisters, let us rise to that challenge to be good and faithful servants of the master who will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead.
I want to end with a prayer that is said daily in the chapel of King's College, London and which seems to address our twin themes of the return of our judge and the stewardship of our talent:
Let us Pray:
Almighty God, the Fountain of wisdom and Giver of every perfect gift; without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy; Send down we beseech thee thy blessing upon this place, and prosper the designs of its founders and benefactors. Enable us, by thy grace, faithfully to discharge the duties of our several stations, remembering the strict and solemn account which we must one day give before the judgment seat of Christ. More particularly we pray, that the seeds of Learning, Virtue and Religion, here sown, may bring forth fruit abundantly to thy glory and the benefit of our fellow creatures. This and all other blessings, for them and for us, we humbly ask, in the name and through the mediation of Jesus Christ, thy Son, our Lord Amen.
Fr Mark Sowerby
November 2nd
All Saints Day 2008
When Jill and I went on an autumn holiday to Scotland, a few years ago, we were told that one of the things we had to do was go on a forest walk. So when we were at the hotel we asked for advice as to which was the most interesting walk to take. We were told that if we went to the Forestry Commission plantation a couple of miles away we would find the most interesting walk for miles around.
So, the next day, we followed the directions we had been given and duly arrived at a large car park. There, at the edge of the forest was a large board telling us that there were three alternative walks, and we could choose the one we preferred. The board showed us the length of each walk, the time it was likely to take, its difficulty, and what items of interest we could see depending on which route we selected. And to make sure we followed our chosen path, each walk was indicated by a yellow, red or blue marker.
These coloured markers were indispensable, and we were able to make our way safely along the path. In the difficult uphill or downhill parts we found that steps had been cut into the ground. In a marshy place someone had put stepping stones so we did not get our feet wet. And in a dangerous part there was a warning sign.
Thanks to these well prepared and well-worn trails we were able to make our way safely through the forest. And, as we walked along, one thing becomes abundantly clear; without these marked paths, we could well have become completely lost.
As a result we had an enjoyable afternoon walking through the forest, admiring the beautiful autumn tints of the leaves and, at various points, getting unforgettable views of mountains and lochs. A truly magical time.
Now, on this Feast of All Saints we think about that long line of saints, both those named in the Church's calendar and all those who are unnamed, who have, as it is beautifully described – "Gone to glory".
I find the diversity and variety of these people – both women and men – breathtaking in its range; truly "all sorts and types and conditions of men". We have their pictures all round us today - as a source of hope and encouragement for us; "we who feebly struggle, whilst they in glory shine".
If I think back to those unknown people who marked out our walk in Scotland, the saints have done something similar for us all. They have laid out paths for us. They have put down markers on those paths. They have travelled the way ahead of us, a great host of them. They have shown us what ordinary human beings like us can achieve. They have set us an example of determination, dedication and sacrifice. And they do this by knowing that their need for God is the centre of their lives.
We describe the Church as "the body of Christ"; and sometimes as "his saints on earth." So what about the "saints on earth" - the "saints" of St. Wilfrid's – us?
I once heard a priest describe his congregation as - "Demanding, intelligent, eccentric, crazy, sad, muddled, confused, and, sometimes, part of the holy people of God – but never boring!" I wonder how Fr Mark would describe us. Perhaps we had better not ask him !
But, at least one part of that description should apply to us. We should be trying to be part of "the holy people of God".
And it is as "the holy people of God"; as Christians in this country, at this time, that we are being called to confront the vast and increasing number of people for whom the Christian message is either of little importance, or simply irrelevant. We live in a world where confusion and anxieties abound. We live at a time when there is so much to fear about the future.
All around us people have so many fears and worries. Fears such as the huge challenge of modern technology - with all its possibilities and potential for life – and death; the worth and sanctity of life; embryo research; the widening gap between rich and poor; the effects of the "credit crunch"; fundamentalism, racism, nationalism, pollution, global warming….and so the list goes on.
We are left with the question "Where is it all going?"
This is the agenda which should take us out to the world and its confused people - to the desperate needs and longings of so many.
But how do we do this – How do we know what to do?
Christians down the ages have always turned to the example of the saints. Some saints went straight to the goal. Others fell, stumbled, and blundered about, before finally getting it right. But they all have made known the fundamental truth, not only for them, but also for us; in fact for Christians down the ages. They recognised our deep need of God. They made God the centre of their lives.
But, in the saints, we do not just have a roll call of past heroes. No, they are our sisters and brothers; they are with us on the way – alongside us as guides; sustaining us with their prayers, and guiding us by their example.
Such examples are not confined to the roll of official saints. All around us, even in these difficult times, there are men and women whose stories guide us, and urge us on our journey – people in whom the two great commandments, love of God and love of neighbour, have been demonstrated to an extraordinary degree.
We draw encouragement and inspiration from these men and women who have gone before us and blazed a trail for us. Each one has made the path that bit easier for the rest of us. And when we experience weariness and a sense of frailty and futility, it is as if they are saying to us, "We are with you. Don't give up."
However, there is often a difficulty. There is a tendency to put saints on such an exalted pedestal that we feel justified in excusing ourselves from imitating them. They are so much "better" than we can ever be. In this case, devotion to the saints becomes more of a hindrance than a help.
But, the saints serve as models for us precisely because they weren't "better" than us; they were sinners just like us. They are reminders for us of what life is about. They inspire us, guide us, encourage us and give us hope. And, of course, they also intercede for us.
But the saints can't live our lives for us. Nor can they provide us with shortcuts; with ways of evading the hard slog; with ways of evading the narrow and difficult path. We ourselves have to walk the path. We have to make the journey. But they have marked the path for us. The saints help us to have the courage to make the journey.
So, in a few minutes time, at the end of this Mass, we will be sent out into the world. We go out, to love and serve the Lord. We go out, with confidence and joy in the name of the risen and living Christ. We go out, surrounded and encouraged by so great a cloud of witnesses – the saints.
And with the example of the saints before us, we go out, "in the power of the Spirit, to live and work for God's praise and glory".
Fr Tim Burrell
October 12th
St Wilfrid's Day 2008
It's an odd thing to say, but Wilfrid of York and I go way back. Perhaps I should say that St Wilfrid has had significant effects on me, or rather that significant things have happened to me in churches dedicated to him or at times of the year around his feast day, here in mid-October. And indeed, in his day, Wilfrid was involved in everything. He had fingers in all pies. It's not surprising that he continues to meddle today.
Wilfrid was born into well-connected circles in the Northumbrian kingdom around the year 633. He was educated at Lindisfarne, a major centre of Irish/Celtic Christian culture, but became dissatisfied with its insularity and perhaps lack of sophistication. Encouraged by the Queen and others, Wilfrid became a man with a mission. He went to Canterbury and then on to Rome, refusing an offer of marriage and getting ordained on the way.
Whilst away, Wilfrid studied the Scriptures, canon law and ecclesiastical life on the continent. As I say, he was well-connected and, on his return, became Abbot of Ripon at a very young age. His new position and status were crucial for his campaign to introduce the Roman/continental liturgical practices into England. At the Synod of Whitby in 663, Wilfrid famously won the day for his cause and his reforms began to spread; the wider western usages prevailing against the local.
Wilfrid was chosen to be Bishop of York and the rest of his life is a complicated tale of disputed appointments, jurisdictions, exiles and restorations. None of this is surprising: he was a controversial, probably arrogant individual. Wilfrid modelled his public life on the worldly style of the Frankish bishops rather than the more monastic practice found locally. He kept a large household and was a fairly wealthy, influential man. So, is anyone asking themselves: Why is this man a saint, with cathedrals and churches dedicated to him all over the place, especially this one standing here?
Well, the truth is, I just don't know. However, we can say that he was a tremendous, energetic force for the Church in this country and beyond. Wilfrid was constantly engaged with society at all levels, promoting the Church as an institution and endowing the land with his many monastic foundations. As Jesus in the today's Gospel instructs Peter, Wilfrid indeed put out into the deep. I guess he was the sort of man you appreciate most of all when he's gone. For then one can see the far-reaching legacy which he left for the Church in England.
In many ways, St Wilfrid rediscovered the truth about the Church as Christ's living community; a unified institution which overarches the local and the national. Winston Churchill used to speak about the special relationship Britain and the US. In his various appeals to the Pope for judgment and assistance, Wilfrid began another special relationship; that which existed between Rome and the English Church for 800 years.
Wilfrid took his ministry as a bishop very seriously. In fact, like many clergy, he started behaving like a bishop many years before he became one. Bishops are the successors of the apostles and, as such, they are called to practice the highest form of communion with each other and with one voice to proclaim the good news of Jesus in the world. They are to shun false teaching and order the Church as the means of holiness and salvation; establish it in the midst of the world as the beginnings of the kingdom to come. All this Wilfrid took very seriously; he got on with his task in hand. He put out into the deep. He proclaimed the good news in this land, literally built up the kingdom in people and in stone. Wilfrid pursued the Church's unity in his relations with the See of Peter himself at Rome.
The Church of England today is very like the Church of this land in Wilfrid's day. Localised, distracted and, in many ways, culturally confused. Young Wilfrid took a look around and said: This is not how things are meant to be. Off he went to rediscover the truth. When he returned to his homeland he began to demonstrate his vision of unity and obedience; both key elements in the character of the temporal Church and in the life of discipleship. Unity and obedience.
Jesus calls his community to these things: unity and obedience under God. Within this framework, holiness is established and lived; salvation becomes realised in lives renewed. The grace of God flows through the Church; his blessings overflow into the world.
Here, in particular, we are called with Wilfrid to follow Christ.
Fr John Thompson-Vear
September 28th 2008
Evensong at the Eve of St Michael & All Angels 2008
Our worship this evening celebrates the Church's great feast day of St Michael and All Angels, also known as the feast of SS Michael, Gabriel & Raphael – the only 3 angels we know by name from the Scriptural accounts. I find angels a tremendously exciting idea – the whole Judea-Christian tradition of angelology is fascinating, inspiring, compelling. And yet this celebration comes and goes again so quickly often we hardly notice – rather like the activity of angels themselves, I suppose.
In the Scriptures, we find the angels of God depicted in many ways – terrible, awesome creatures, devoted solely to the service of their creator, bearing up his throne in the heavens – a place beyond our current comprehension. We find angels described as a great warrior army – the heavenly host - championing the cause of God against evil. We find them depicted as messengers of God – bearers of his good news, his grace, his gifts to mankind. All fantastic images, evocative of the splendid, awe-inspiring, martial courts of the God all things. And so, at Michaelmass, I'm annually re-energised with this vision of heaven as a spectacular place of monstrous beings and warrior-messenger hosts – all devoted the love and service of God their creator and ours.
But I know that, in a few months, this spectacular vision will come crashing down once again when we see nativity plays, in schools or churches, where all the angels are played by tiny girls with fluffy wings and tinsel. All the boys will play shepherd types. Of course, I always think, it should be the other way round. I want to see the Christmas crib scene filled with terrifying angels, come to worship the Christ child, armed to the teeth, swords drawn. Not that angels are necessarily men or women. It's just that angels are not cute and sweet – you don't want to mess with them. They serve God. They worship him and carry out his will.
The Divine Comedy is Dante's dream of a visit to hell, purgatory and heaven, which he then writes down for our instruction. In Canto IX, the demons guarding the gates of the lower reaches of hell refuse to let Dante and his guide Virgil through to continue their journey. But their journey has God's permission. Virgil says to Dante: Just sit here and wait for a moment. In a short time, they begin to hear a terrible distant crashing and shattering, as though something's tearing towards them, through all the horrors of hell, at great speed. Sure enough, an angel appears and commands the gates to be opened. He doesn't even glance at Dante and Virgil, so preoccupied is he with his mission from heaven:
"... he turned and took the filthy road,
and did not speak to us, but had the look
of one obsessed by other cares." (102)
Obsessed by other cares; obsessed with the will of God.
Angels are fabulous beings, countless in number. And yet they are also charged to care for us. We are special and a bit different. Angels are not created in God's image as we are. They don't have the mortal physical forms which we have, and which we believe will be resurrected in the new reality to come. In Tolkien's Middle Earth, in the beginning, elves and men lived together. Whereas elves are immortal – they do not die naturally – men are mortal. They die after a time. The elves would to refer to this as the gift of men. The gift of men. Something even better was believed to be in store for mankind.
I think Tolkien captures something of reality here. Angels are something of mystery to us. But we are something of a mystery to the angels as well. Something special is indeed in store for us – a new order made possible for us in Christ. Communion with God in the company of the angels but not like the angels. With us, God wants to share his own life and his very self. This is the Christian hope; this is the good news of Jesus.
Fr John Thompson-Vear
September 8th 2008
Back to Church Sunday
I wonder if you've ever noticed that of the 10 Commandments, only two of them tell us to do anything positive. One is to love the Lord our God and the other is to honour our Father and Mother. The other eight are all 'Thou shalt nots'. Don't commit adultery, don't murder, don't steal, don't be envious. It all sounds rather negative – and yet in his letter to the Church in Rome, we hear St Paul this morning saying that these and all other commandments can be summed up in the single commandment 'love your neighbour as yourself'. Paul, of course could hardly copyright that summery of the law. We have heard it from Jesus himself and it is also to be found in Leviticus 19:18 and in the following story the Babylonian Talmud:
A Gentile said to the famous rabbis, Shammai and Hillel. 'make me a proselyte [a Jewish convert], on condition that you teach me the whole Torah [the Jewish law] while I stand on one foot.' Rabbi Shamai chased him off – with a stick, but Hillel said to him 'Whatever is hateful to you, do not do to a neighbour, that is the whole Torah, the rest is commentary; go and learn it.'
It is just as well that Leviticus, Jesus, Paul and the good Rabbi Hillel remind us of that summery of the law – 'Love your neighbour as yourself' – otherwise we could begin to think that the law of God was simply a matter of avoiding certain particular crimes and that provided we could keep all those boxed un-checked, we had got everything right. 'Love your neighbour' is a positive command to engage with our neighbour rather than a negative one to avoid engaging in certain illicit activities.
Now as soon as we begin to talk about our neighbour, there comes to mind that question that was put to Jesus 'but who is my neighbour?' The answer to that question, of course was the story of the Good Samaritan, the person who took care of a man who had been beaten and left for dead on the road-side and paid others to look after him too.
Your neighbour is whoever you can help or assist, - whoever needs Jesus whose Spirit is within you. Your neighbour starves and dies of Aids in Africa; your neighbour grieves in mourning; your neighbour is a penitent criminal and a social pariah. your neighbour is anyone who needs Jesus – anyone who needs his healing; anyone who needs his forgiveness; anyone who needs his encouragement, his teaching or correction; anyone who needs his hope and assurance.
And who has no need of Jesus?
Whether we know it or not, whether we acknowledge it or not, we all stand in need of God - - and perhaps most especially those who don't realise it - - those who think life is going along fine for them without Him! And so that makes pretty well everyone your neighbour.
September 28th – three weeks' time, - is 'Back to Church Sunday' and you should have received a leaflet with your pewsheet this morning encouraging you to invite your neighbour to Church that day. Your neighbour may be the lady next door – but it might be someone who was off work recently for a funeral – or someone whose teenage son is driving him steadily round the bend. It might be someone with financial pressures or a demanding elderly relative; it might be someone so caught up in the material world that they have never given Jesus a thought.
Every one of you sitting before me this morning – or behind me, ladies and gentlemen of the choir, has a neighbour somewhere who stands in need of Jesus; of his healing; of his forgiveness; of his challenge and teaching; or of his encouragement. We all have neighbours to love and I have no doubt that you do love them. Will you invite them to join you – to join us at St Wilfrid's in three weeks' time on 'Back to Church Sunday?' And will you especially invite those who for whatever reason have drifted away from church and for whom God (as in the story of the 'prodigal son') longs to return?
We are inviting to St Wilfrid's all those people who have sought baptism, confirmation or marriage here in recent years; we are inviting families associated with local schools; we are inviting all local residents – letters are going out this week. Will you please invite your neighbour to come too? Drop them a line; send them an email; send them a text message – what about sending a general invitation to everyone in your computerised address book? There is a draft letter on the back of this morning's leaflet and there are invitation cards on the sidemen's' tables. Please don't let me find any still there by Evensong tonight.
So what are we inviting them to?
Well, we are inviting them to meet Jesus. And we're inviting them to meet him in several particular ways:
- 1. In the Eucharist we shall invite them to meet Jesus in Scripture, to find him in the Gospel story.
- 2. We shall be inviting them to meet Him in bread and wine – in a divine touch – a taste of the divine.
- 3. AND, thirdly, we shall invite them to discover Him in human beings – in ourselves.
The Church of God is the family of Christ; it is his new community and people meet Christ in each other – so – we are holding an open day on the 28th too. Come and meet the church, the people who ARE the body of Christ! We are inviting people to stay - or to come along later after Mass – for refreshments, wine, beer, tea or coffee, maybe a sandwich or, weather permitting a Scout BBQ. We are inviting them to join our bell-ringers in the tower, to learn what the serving team is about, to have a tour of the building, to sing with our choir at an 'open' choir practise for Evensong, to look at exhibitions and stalls outlining the work of say the Mothers' Union, Young Wilfs and maybe some others.
The Gospel is spread and community is built through word of mouth through personal contact and through generous invitation. Gospel is spread and community is grown – by this – by people treating their neighbours as neighbours.
Read about Back to Church Sunday or Download a Leaflet Here