Sunday, 21 November 2021

Christ the King 2021

 

Christ the King 2021

Lectionary readings: Daniel 7:9-10, 13, 14 and Revelation 1:4b-8 and John 18:33-37

Today is the Feast of Christ the King, the culmination of the Church year. Next Sunday, Advent Sunday, marks the new year, the beginning of a new cycle through the story of Jesus and his people in season and out of season, feasting and fasting, and in the ordinariness of our days. To proclaim that Christ is King is to acknowledge that he has been appointed by God as both Lord of the Church and Judge of the Nations. In our Gospel reading today we are reminded that Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world, but it is in this world, at work, according to a different value-system and despite appearances. The Bible ends with Revelation, which is not a forecasting of a far-distant future but (like parts of Daniel) an apocalypse, a pulling back the veil to reveal what is really going on beneath the surface in the present, as John writes his coded message to encourage a Christian community heavily persecuted towards the end of the reign of the Roman emperor Domitian. But what does it mean, for us, to declare that Christ is King? What difference does it make, and how do we see that reality worked out in the world?

We are part of Durham Diocese, a family of around 300 Anglican churches in this part of the northeast, between the Tyne and the Tees, the Dales, and the Sea. Our mission, together, is to ‘bless our communities in Jesus’ name for the transformation of us all.’ And we listen together, to one another, to discern what it is that Jesus is calling us to do, through which his kingship is manifest. Together we have discerned our common priorities, as Durham Diocese, for 2021-26. Together, and in partnership with others, we will challenge poverty, energise growth, care for God’s creation, and engage with children, youth and 18-25s. We will seek to do this by rising awareness, responding practically, and working together to reform the wider context of each of our four priorities.

We are committed to challenging poverty by working together to address child and youth poverty; responding to isolation, particularly among the elderly; and reaching out and responding to the needs and gifts of asylum seekers and refugees.

We are committed to energizing growth by growing in reach and influence, transforming our communities through the transformation of our churches; growing in depth, strengthening discipleship, serving Jesus by using our gifts in his mission in every part of life; and growing in breadth and number, growing the number of people identifying as Christian.

We are committed to caring for God’s creation by cultivating a shared Christian vision for God’s creation and our call to steward, nurture, protect it, in Jesus’ name, for the good of everyone, everywhere; promoting responsible consumption, choices and behaviour as individuals and churches; and working together to challenge wider environmental indifference and injustice.

We are committed to engaging with children, youth and 18-25s by: developing pathways for more children to become lifelong disciples of Jesus; resourcing youth for mission (and extending our engagement with them); and extending the engagement of 18-25s.

Clearly, what that looks like will vary from local church to local church, depending on context, opportunity, and resources. The kingship of Christ is not a monoculture, where every community looks the same, but an ecosystem within which unity is expressed in diversity flourishing in mutual harmony. So, all our local churches are called to challenging poverty, energizing growth, caring for God’s creation, and engaging with children, youth and 18-25s, recognizing that this will look different from place to place, and that for any given local church one or other of those four priorities may take the lead. For example, Sunderland Minster has a well-established ministry of reaching out and responding to the needs and gifts of asylum seekers and refugees; whereas St Nicholas’ is well-placed to respond to isolation, particularly among the elderly.

These four priorities are not about driving us to do more but helping us clarify what we do and focus on what Christ the King is doing in and through us, and so to set aside distraction. And so, having looked at what it means in practice to proclaim that Christ is King in our context, let us draw on what John wrote to the churches at the turn of the first century. He writes:

Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come’ [that is, Jesus] ‘who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, and made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.’

Christ is King, and we are his kingdom, a kingdom began, continued, and brought to completion in Jesus’ acts of loving us, freeing us from all that holds us back from that love, and making us into something we were not, previously. “God loves you” is a key part of the Gospel, but it is not the whole Gospel: God loves you, brings freedom to you, and makes you into something new. He makes us all priests for the world—to bless our communities in Jesus’ name, for the transformation of us all, as we say in Durham Diocese—and within that royal priesthood we believe, in keeping with many but by no means all Christians, he calls some to be priests for the church. But we are all loved and freed and made to serve God as priests, proclaiming blessing in word and service.

And we do so as those who know both grace and peace. Grace, the gift given us by Jesus; the gift we are, given to others, to the church and the world. And peace, that centering wholeness that guards over our hearts and minds, that keeps our will aligned with Jesus’ will (which is perfectly aligned with his Father’s will) and enables us to see as he sees and hear what he hears. As we work out what it looks like in this local context to challenge poverty, energise growth, care for God’s creation, and engage with children, youth and 18-25s, the knowledge of grace and peace—or of a growing distance from them when we lose focus—will keep us rooted in Christ the King.

Today is the Feast of Christ the King. We end the Church year reminding one another that, despite all appearances to the contrary, whether disunity within the Church or rising tides of secularism and nationalism in the world around us, God is at work through Christ in and through us. Reminding one another that there is much to celebrate, and the need to be strengthened in word and sacrament for the much more yet to come. Reminding ourselves that he who began a good work in us will bring it to completion. And next Sunday we turn once again to Advent and preparing our hearts to be ready for his coming again in glory.

Today is the Feast of Christ the King. The table is set. Come, all who are hungry. Come, you who are thirsty. Come, and be satisfied. Christ is the host, in every sense. So, come.

 

Sunday, 14 November 2021

Remembrance Sunday 2021

 

Hebrews 10:24

‘And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds.’ (NRSVA)

‘And let us consider how we may spur one another on towards love and good deeds.’ (NIV)

‘And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works.’ (KJV)

Recently Jo and I went away for a couple of nights to celebrate our silver wedding anniversary. The weather wasn’t great, and we spent some of the time sitting in the hotel lounge reading novels. Every so often a member of the hotel staff would come in, poke the fire into life, and go away again. After a while, the fire would die back down and, before it went out completely, the member of staff would appear again, prod it back into flame, and disappear once more.

We live in a time when our collective anger is regularly poked, lest it should die down and go out. We know what it is to be provoked by the sight of other people, whom we are trained to see as a threat. All the necessary conditions are in place, that lead us into conflict; past, present, or future. But the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews employs the striking image of provoking to love and good deeds, or, literally, to making something beautiful. What might that look like?

The word translated ‘to provoke’ means to jab, such that the person being jabbed has no option but to respond. The NIV expresses it well with the image of spurs. The King James Version draws out another aspect: not, let us consider how we might provoke one another to love and to making something beautiful, but let us consider one another, not as threats to provoke anger but as examples to inspire us to love and to make the world a more beautiful place. When we look at one another, let us do so through eyes of love that see beauty.

Many of you know that Jo and I are members of the Sunderland Strollers running club. We run in packs, according to ability. But sometimes we have whole-club sessions. Once a month through October to February we run the Winter Handicap, a whole club 5km (or just over 3 miles) along the sea front between Roker and Seaburn. Runners set off at 30-second intervals, the slowest starting first and the fastest, last (the first shall be last and the last shall be first). We set off from Sue’s Café and run along to Grannie Annie’s, then turn back on ourselves and head up the steep bank to the Bungalow Café on the road above. There, we turn right and head down the long gradual hill to Seaburn and the House of Zen restaurant. By the time I get there, I don’t feel very Zen. There we turn round and retrace our steps, up the long drag to the bus stop opposite the entrance to Roker Park, and on to the Bungalow, sharp left turn and down the steep bank, keep going to Grannie Annie’s and then turn back on ourselves for the final effort back to Sue’s Café.

Because we set off at a stagger, and because it is an out-and-back, for the whole of the run, runners are passing one another, catching up or being caught, slower runners passing you on their way back as you approach half-way, faster runners approaching that mark as you are now making your way back up the hill. And whenever we pass one another, we call out encouragement. Faster runners say something like, “Well done! Keep going!” to the slower runners; and slower runners say something like, “Keep going! You’re flying!” to the faster runners.

No-one says, “Huh, they’re not very good; they shouldn’t be in our club” or “They are so much better at this than I will ever be, I’m thoroughly discouraged”. As we consider one another, we choose to be inspired by one another, to share in love between us—and these really are some of the best friends I have—and together to create something of beauty (albeit not obvious beauty at the end of the run, as I gasp to draw breath).

That might seem like a very small and insignificant illustration, but it is the repeated small habits that train us, over time, to be provoked to anger or to be provoked to love; to view others as threat or as persons whose presence in the world makes it a more beautiful place.

Who can you recall who by their life inspires you to love better, and to strive to make the world more beautiful?

And is there anyone in your life who is, in turn, inspired to love more fully by your example?

Why not contact them today, and so encourage one another?

 

Sunday, 7 November 2021

Third Sunday before Advent 2021

 

Lectionary readings: Jonah 3:1-5, 10 and Hebrews 9:24-28 and Mark 1:14-20

Our Gospel reading today is the summary statement of Jesus’ ministry, and the mission he calls his followers into. Jesus proclaims, the time is fulfilled. You will recall from the account of the wedding at Cana, the first of the great signs recorded in John’s Gospel, that when Jesus’ mother asks him to intervene, he says, my time has not yet come. Why not? Because it is still John the forerunner’s time. But now his cousin John has been handed over, and Jesus’ moment, Jesus’ opportunity birthed of this crisis, has come.

The time has come, the opportunity is here: the sovereignty of God has drawn near. John’s arrest is not evidence that the world is going to hell in a handcart; not only is God still on the throne of heaven, but God is here, now: you are ushered into God’s presence. Therefore, repent, and believe the good news.

Repent means to change one’s mind, and because of changing one’s mind, to act in a different way. We see this in the Old Testament reading for today, from the story of Jonah. God sends Jonah to proclaim to the citizens of Nineveh that they have been judged and found wanting, and in forty days from Jonah’s proclamation, Nineveh would be destroyed. When they hear this, the king of Nineveh leads his people in repentance: they express that, outwardly, according to the customs of the time, in putting on sackcloth and ashes, and fasting. And in response to their repentance, God also repents: God changes his mind about his decision to act in judgement, and changes his intended actions, so that the city is spared. Mercy triumphs over the consequences of judgement. This dynamic is intended to mark our relationship with God, repentance, a changing of mind, on both sides, for that is how genuine relationship and meaningful partnership is possible at all.

Repent, and believe in the good news. To believe means, have confidence in. And when Jesus says, have confidence in the good news, he means—as we see straight away in his calling Simon and Andrew and James and John to follow him and fish for people—he means, change your mind, and have confidence in proclaiming the good news.

And that is the very heart of what we need to hear today. Have confidence in proclaiming the good news. Why? Because in Jesus, the opportunity is here, and the sovereign God draws near, to the men and women and children we meet day to day.

Therefore, repent, change your mind. Why? Because we have lost confidence in the goodness of the good news, have lost confidence that anyone is interested. We have told ourselves that there is no point in proclaiming the good news, because people aren’t interested in hearing it today.

We have told ourselves that faith is a personal and private matter, and that it is not my place to impose my faith on anyone else. And yes, there is a kernel of truth in that: we are not called to impose anything upon anybody. But if we claim that Jesus is Lord and Saviour, the one in whom we are reconciled to God, then we are called to proclaim the good news that is embodied in him.

Or we tell ourselves that we aren’t qualified to tell others, that doing so is the vicar’s job. Indeed, we experience, in our churches, a profound crisis of confidence, which is a crisis of belief, not out there in the world but here, in our hearts and minds. And yet, while it is true that more and more people are outside of the church, it is nonetheless also true that many people are coming of returning to faith, are changing their minds about God and life and what truly matters, are gaining or regaining confidence in God’s faithfulness towards them. And as the Bishop of Durham never tires of saying, do not despise the day of small beginnings.

It may transpire that the moment of crisis is the only kind of moment which is opportune. In the wake of John’s arrest, Jesus calls some seemingly unqualified followers to an enigmatic task, and over the following years they grow in confidence until they are proclaiming the good news boldly before all who will listen.

Perhaps it is not so much about learning a formula, far less imposing a one-size-fits-all claim, as taking the opportunity to introduce people to Jesus.

The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe the good news.