Seventh Sunday of Easter 2019

Lectionary reading: Acts 16:16-34

Notes:

There are five functions of human society, as given by God:

move—we are sent into the world, to bless;

listen—hear, O Israel;

share—the gospel, or good news;

care—the Lord is compassionate in nature;

learn—gain wisdom.

[The biblical terms for these five functions are apostolic, prophetic, evangelistic, shepherding, and teaching.]

Every time we gather, every time we reflect on scripture together, we are going to attend to these five functions, in order that we might learn how to live more authentically human lives, as a community of faith.

How does this passage move the story on?

Paul and his companions have planted the first church in Europe, the household of Lydia, whom they had met at the ‘place of prayer’ outside Philippi. Now we see them returning to the place of prayer for many days: probably to meet with Lydia’s network of like-minded friends.

Where do you regularly or habitually go during the week? Who do you meet? Crucially, what do you see?

‘Thy Kingdom Come’ is a call to every Christian to pray every day for ten days for five friends, by name, that they might come to know the love of Jesus, and his call on their lives. Who are your five?

Who speaks? Who listens?

A girl who is a slave, exploited by her owners for their profit. She sees Paul and his companions as also slaves of a god—a higher god than the being who controls her—and as offering a way of salvation. It is a relative gospel: choose the path that works for you. But, in fact, Paul holds out not a way, but the way—the only way—of salvation; and demonstrates it by liberating the girl from captivity.

Her owners also speak, motivated by the loss of hope of making money; and they whip up a crowd into hostility against a scapegoat.

Human trafficking and modern-day slavery are rife, including children forced to grow cannabis or sell drugs in our region. This passage could not be more contemporary or relevant!

Paul and Silas sing hymns in prison—focus on God, not circumstances—and God hears and answers.

The conversation between Paul and the jailer…

Is there any good news to share?

Yes, for the slave girl: freedom from captivity to a demon.

‘More than 200 years after the abolition of the slave trade there are still an estimated 40.3 million men, women and children trapped in modern slavery, and up to 136,000 potential victims in the UK alone.’ theclewerinitiative.org

see the ‘safe car wash’ app from the archbishops’ Council and the Clewer Initiative.

Yes, for the jailer: rescue from suicide—from a twisted honour code.

suicide the number 1 cause of death in men under the age of 50: further info at National Suicide Prevention alliance, nspa.org.uk

Yes, for his household: hope of a change of character?

How is the community nurtured?

The jailer washing Paul and Silas’ wounds; bringing them into his household; eating together. Reminiscent of the Last Supper. ‘New family’ formed around a shared meal. A second household of faith now planted in Philippi, building the church there.

How does this passage connect with what we already know?

It connects with Luke 4:18-19—Jesus’ ‘manifesto’—which in turn connects with Isaiah 61:1-2ff. “the Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight o the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.” What might that look like in our parish?

Change of pattern of worship at St Nicholas’: second and fifth Sundays of the month to be more participative, built around listening to one another in relation to these five functions.

Fourth Sunday of Easter 2019

Lectionary reading: Acts 9:36-43

As the risen Jesus lives his life in and through us, the body of Christ is meant to move, listen, share, care, and learn. And so, as we continue our journey through the Book of Acts—the continuation of Luke’s account of what Jesus is doing in the world—we do well to read the story through these five aspects of Jesus’ life and mission. When I read the Bible, I ask the following five questions:

First, how does this passage move the story on? Well, this passage moves the story on in two ways. Last week, we fund ourselves in Damascus, at the convergence of the Silk Road to China and the Spice Road to India. The launch-pad for carrying the good news of Jesus, east. And now, today, we find ourselves in the port of Joppa, another launch-pad, this time west around the Mediterranean, as far as Spain. The story is moving, geographically. But it is also crossing cultural boundaries. Today’s story concerns a woman known by name in two languages, Hebrew and Greek. Known, by name, in two communities. Now, these communities lived side-by-side, and interacted on a daily basis. But a point is made of telling us that this woman is known by name by both communities, in their own language. A Jewish woman whose Gentile neighbours have given her a name among them. She is a bridge between two worlds; and, as we continue the story, we will see that she brings Peter a step closer to discovering that Jesus was calling the gentiles into the kingdom of God...

Second, in this passage, who speaks—and who listens? Well, Tabitha’s friends speak of her, to Peter; and Peter listens. He is moved by their loss. And Peter speaks; and Tabitha listens, she hears and responds, even though she was dead. Now, everyone dies; and only a few are brought back, only a few must die more than once. This is not the norm; but it is given in order to reveal that Jesus is Lord of the living and the dead, and that death itself must bow before him. Death has its say, but it does not get to have the final word.

Third, is there any good news to share? Well, yes. There is the raising of Tabitha—and as that good news is shared, many come to faith. But there is also the good news of her faithful life, the grace-filled way she blessed her community. There is plenty of good news in this passage.

Fourth, a question of care: how is the community nurtured? Well, it is built up as many people come to believe in the Lord.

And fifth, a question of learning: how does this passage connect with what we already know? Well, in the first book of Luke’s Gospel, we see Jesus raising the dead son of a widow in Nain (Luke 7) and the dead daughter of a leader of the synagogue in Capernaum (Luke 8). Peter raising Tabitha closely parallels this account. It is clear that he has observed what Jesus had done in just such a situation, and was learning to be Jesus in the situation he found himself.

Which brings us to this statement by the late American philosopher, Dallas Willard:

‘Discipleship is the process of becoming who Jesus would be if he were you.’

Discipleship is the process of becoming who Jesus would be if he were you. That is what we are called to. So, what might this passage have to say to us about that?

Well, it is clearly a passage about raising up. But we will probably resonate with that in different ways. Which, I wonder, do you most resonate with?

Firstly, raising up women in the community. There is a clear body of evidence from around the world that when we raise up women—who make up half of humanity, and half of the body of Christ—their whole community benefits. Whereas, where only men are raised up, they tend, consistently, to keep any benefit within a small group of similarly privileged men. Sadly, this is often also true in the church, where men are more visible and more vocal—and will fight for what they perceive they have to lose. But there is nothing to lose when all God’s children get to play.

Secondly, raising up cross-community peacemakers. Tabitha, also known as Dorcas. We live in a pluralistic society and a multi-ethnic neighbourhood; a community that is very different from when housing first expanded into this area. And we live in very divisive times; and with a strong urge to return to a rose-tinted past. How might we, in our eightieth year, best play our part in supporting the community as it is, and as is emerging? Which voices from the margins do we need to quieten ourselves in order to hear?

Thirdly, raising up the spiritually dead. Unless you are a first-aider, a paramedic, nurse, or doctor, you might never bring someone back to life, physically. But there are plenty of people who can testify that the circumstances of their lives had left them dead on the inside; and that Jesus has brought them back to life, in a beautiful way. Perhaps you’ve known that. Perhaps you’ve been instrumental in that. Perhaps you long to be.

Fourthly, raising up graceful lives. Tabitha, Dorcas, means gazelle; or, figuratively, graceful. And she certainly lived-into the calling conferred upon her. There is something beautiful about the way in which she set about blessing her communities. While others sang her praises, she clearly didn’t demand such attention or gratitude: such people might be admired, but aren’t loved the way she clearly was. This is a matter of character, shaped by the Holy Spirit, as she chose to partner with God, to be formed. To die to self and be raised to new life in Jesus, as Jesus lived his life through hers.

Fifthly, raising up purposeful skills. Tabitha had skill as a seamstress, and put it to good use. Whatever natural ability she had, she must have invested in it to become so proficient; and it is easy to imagine others coming to her when they ran into difficulty, for her to show them what they were getting wrong, and what they needed to do to get it right. What skills do you have? What purpose are you putting them to? And, given that one day we will all die, who are you passing them on to? It is always quicker and easier to do the job ourselves; but that is how skills die with us.

Third Sunday of Easter 2019

Lectionary readings: John 21:1-19 and Acts 9:1-20

Our reading from Acts began with Saul searching for the church in Damascus. And this begs the question, how would you know you had found what you were looking for? Or, to put it another way, what makes the church the church?

How would you answer that question?

You still hear people speak of a Damascus road experience, to describe a moment that stopped them in their tracks and resulted in their setting out on a different direction. But the original Damascus road experience was more than that. It was fundamental to Paul’s understanding of the church from thereon in:

that the risen Jesus chooses to fully-identify with the imperfect community we call the church, and to live his life through them.

That is to say, what makes the church the church is Jesus living his life through us. We are the body of Christ.

Now, this is a suburban church of suburban people. And the suburbs shape us in particular ways:

the suburbs unconsciously shape us to be overly-settled;

they shape us to be cocooned from social injustice;

they shape us to live isolated behind our own front doors (an Englishman’s home is his castle—in which he may find himself a prisoner);

they shape us to be fearful of others, to see them as competition;

and they shape us to become deeply invested in unquestioned privilege.

I’m not saying that these things are inevitable. Nor am I anti- the suburbs. But I am saying that over time suburbs shape community in these ways. And because we are called to be the church in the suburbs—people who live here but are shaped, instead, by Jesus—we need to be aware of these processes at work.

Within the body of Christ, we discover the antidote:

living among an overly-settled community, the body of Christ is a body that moves;

living among a community that is cocooned from social injustice, the body of Christ is a body that listens;

living among endemic isolation, the body of Christ is a body that shares;

living in a competitive community fearful of losing out to others, the body of Christ is a body that cares;

and living in the midst of unquestioned privilege, the body of Christ is a body that learns.

The church is the church when the body of Christ is a body that moves, listens, shares, cares, and learns.

a body that moves

Jesus said, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” (John 20:21) and “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19). Our Gospel passage today ended, “Follow me.” and we see here today that the early church was known as those who ‘belonged to the Way’. A people on the move. They had already spread from Jerusalem to Damascus; and Damascus was the crossing-point of the Silk Road and the Spice Road: the jumping-off place to go and make disciples all the way to China and India.

The church doesn’t say, you need to come to us. Where is God calling us to go next, within the parish? What doors are open to us?

a body that listens

The disciples in the boat don’t recognise Jesus immediately, but as they listen and respond, they realise, ‘It is the Lord!’ And in Damascus, as the church prays in the face of persecution [fun fact: ‘Saul’ means prayed for—and he was!], Ananias hears the Lord’s voice, and responds, ‘Here I am, Lord.’

When might we come together to listen to God in corporate prayer? For a start, let’s join in with Thy Kingdom Come, the Archbishops of Canterbury and York’s national call to pray between Ascension Day and Pentecost. We have resources to help us do that as families at home and together, gathering here.

a body that shares

After a frustrating night’s work for them, Jesus called the disciples to share breakfast with him. Ananias is sent to Saul in order that he might regain his sight. The good news is good news. We’re not meant to keep it to ourselves. It is for sharing.

Who will we tell about Jesus? Part of the Thy Kingdom Come movement over recent years has been to choose five friends to pray for and share the joy of knowing Jesus with.

a body that cares

Jesus’ repeated instruction to Peter, drawing on the imagery of the Good Shepherd, is to care for his people. Did you notice in our reading from Acts that Ananias calls his would-be persecutor Brother Saul? That is stunning care. Many would see Saul’s new-found vulnerability as an opportunity to exploit to take revenge.

Who are we coming alongside and spending time with, perhaps to our surprise?

a body that learns

Jesus calls both Peter and Paul to learn, and in particular to notice and come to hold lightly the privilege they enjoy. In both cases, suffering—that which we experience as done to or for us, rather than those things we do to or for others—is key. It is no different in the suburbs where we pride ourselves in our independence and competence, and struggle as these things are stripped away by growing old. But in our vulnerability, God is glorified.

What are we learning about Jesus now, and how is that re-shaping our lives?

What makes the church the church? Jesus, moving, listening, sharing, caring, learning, in and through us. I wonder which of these five functions of the body of Christ each of us most identifies with, and how we might grow to maturity of faith together?