Tag: Year A

Being Beloved

~ Mel Eyeons ~ 1 Comment

A sermon for Morning Prayer, 19th February 2020

Psalm 72 / James 1.19-27 / Mark 8.22-26

Introduction

A friend of mine has been having a difficult time recently and ended up in hospital for two weeks.

She’s now back home and getting better but it was a massive shock to her and her family.

A further complication, though, is that before all this happened she felt she was being called to do a new big work for God, but now that work seems beyond her and so she’s confused.

I don’t know what the answer to her dilemma is, but it’s got me wondering about what God wants from us.

Doing for God

Do we have to be doing great things for God or is it enough to be an ordinary person doing normal things in an everyday life?

We hear a lot about heroes of faith who do wonderful things, like Solomon in Psalm 72, being a good and wise king.

He judges with righteousness, provides justice for the poor, brings his people wealth, rescues those in need and brings down oppressors, with care for even the most insignificant person.

Then there’s Jesus in the gospel reading, healing a blind person while passing through a village.

And James charges us to care for orphans and widows, that is the people who are most vulnerable and needy in society, while also doing the very difficult task of keeping ourselves from saying things we shouldn’t.

So if you’re not dispensing good things from on high, or able to perform miracles, and if you have only a limited number of things you can do because of circumstances of your life, personality or resources, what then?

This also has a personal dimension for me in that I’m in the early stages of considering whether God is calling me to explore other forms of ministry, and I’m very conscious of my own limitations and what I can and can’t offer.

Beloved

But perhaps we can find hope in a small word near the beginning of James’s letter – “Beloved”.

This one word speaks volumes about who we are and our relationship with God.

When someone is your ‘beloved’ their welfare is your concern.

When they are hurting, you feel it too, and what you want for them is things that will help them flourish, grow and be happy.

So if we are God’s beloved, and the whole story of salvation tells us that we are, then God wants what is good for us, indeed our welfare is his priority, even if it doesn’t always seem like it, such as when we end up ill in hospital.

Sometimes what’s best for us is to be challenged to move on to something new, to be stretched out of our comfortable ruts, to find out that we can do more than we thought was possible, or even to be stopped in our tracks.

But at the same time God doesn’t push us too far, doesn’t want us trying to do things he hasn’t set out for us to do, for that will only lead to heartache and disappointment.

So while the Bible stresses that our lives should be spent in service of God and others, it doesn’t say anywhere that we all have to do everything.

In fact, all we have to do is take the opportunities to serve that are in front of us, whether big or small, do what God puts in our hearts and minds, and what he makes it possible for us to do, remembering that the task of saving the world doesn’t fall to any one of us but to him.

As I’ve heard it put before, “There’s only one Saviour, and I’m not him”.

So yes, let’s do what we can to follow God’s will by caring for others and trying to make our bit of the world a better place, but also give thanks to God that ultimately everything is in his safe hands.

Salt and Light

~ Mel Eyeons ~ 1 Comment

Isaiah 58.1-9a / Matthew 5.13-20

Introduction

A story is told about a church that was having a special Saturday night service.

Towards the end of the service a thunderstorm unleashed a bolt of lightning that plunged the building into darkness.

So, the minister carefully felt his way through the church to find some candles and then handed them out.

Everyone lit their candles, passing the light from one to another.

Then, when all the candles were lit, the congregation made their way to the door of the church.

Looking out, they could see rain coming down in sheets. All the traffic had stopped, and people were running for shelter.

Looking around, the congregation could see that the whole city was in darkness.

So, there they stood, a little band of Christians, each clutching a light, not sure whether to venture out into the storm or stay inside the church in the hope that the storm would soon blow over.

A disciple in the world

Today’s gospel reading is part of the Sermon on the Mount, where we learn what it means to be a disciple in the world.

We learn that being a disciple is not an easy ride.

We may be poor in spirit, we may mourn, we may long to see a righteousness that seems far off, and we may feel unimportant – yet we are blessed.

And in the light of that blessing we are charged to be merciful, to be pure, to work for peace, and to stay faithful whatever the consequences.

Now, continuing the theme of what it means to be disciples in the world, Jesus tells us that we are the salt of the earth and the light of the world, and so I want to talk about each of these things in turn this morning.

Salt of the earth

Firstly, salt.

This has different uses.

It can be a preservative, it can purify by killing off bacteria, it can be used as a fertiliser, it has a vital role in keeping us healthy, and it makes our food taste better.

But when Jesus described us as the salt of the earth he focused on its taste; pushing the point home by talking about the uselessness of salt that loses its saltiness.

This reference to salt losing its saltiness can be puzzling because modern table salt doesn’t ever do this, but in the ancient world salt was a slightly different thing.

The salt that Jesus was talking about was collected from the shores of the Dead Sea and could contain many impurities that looked like salt but weren’t.

As salt dissolves in water it was quite common for it all to be washed away and for only the impurities to remain, leaving behind something that looked like the real thing but wasn’t.

So, it’s important for us to be true salt, not just an imitation that looks real but is actually not doing anything.

But how can we do this?

Well we can find an answer if we go back to our first reading, from Isaiah.

Here, the prophet describes a people who are very outwardly religious, who observe all the feasts and fasts and say the right words, but as soon as they get out of the temple, they’re fighting with one another because it only goes skin-deep.

God rejects this empty ritual in favour of making a positive difference in the world, saying, 

Is not this the fast that I choose:
   to loose the bonds of injustice,
   to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
   and to break every yoke?
Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
   and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them,
   and not to hide yourself from your own kin.

God doesn’t reject religious observance per se but he’s not in favour of religious observance that doesn’t go hand-in-hand with making a positive difference to the world around us.

And we’re all called to make a difference – whoever we are, if we have a paid job or not, if we’re at school or retired, if we’re a parent or grandparent or neither, and in line with our gifts, talents, strengths and weakness.

We’re called to flavour the world – to make it better, richer, deeper, through our presence, our actions and our words, and not to huddle together out of the storm keeping our blessings to ourselves and reluctant to be involved in everyday life.

We’re called to season and transform human activity in a way that reveals God in the world.

This might sound a bit beyond us, but all it really means is living faithfully in accordance with our faith and what we believe God wants us to do.

In my own small way, I try to do this kind of thing at work.

When I do my proofreading job, which often involves working with people who are worried and vulnerable because of a learning disability, I try to make sure I treat people with care, compassion and respect, as well as working hard and honestly for them.

I’m not saying I’m perfect at all this, but I try because to me this is part of living out my calling as a Christian, and at least as important as dressing up and preaching on a Sunday.

Light of the world

Then, secondly, we’re described as the light of the world.

When I hear the phrase “light of the world” I immediately imagine the famous painting of Jesus by Holman Hunt.

I don’t generally think of myself as the light of the world, and indeed in the Bible it’s usually God who’s described in such terms.

But we’ve been given God’s light and now we’re called to share it with others, to help spread God’s truth, goodness and holiness in the world.

We are to help people see God’s life in theirs by showing them how God is working in our lives.

We are to enlighten the dark places of the world with the light we’ve received.

We are to let people see hope where there seemed no hope, and a new path when they feel all is lost.

We’re called to reveal truth, mercy, justice and love by displaying them in our own lives.

The light of God that fills us is meant to shine out to others as well.

After all, light is meant to be shared, it’s meant to have an effect; it’s not meant to hide away when people are in need out there in the dark and the storm, and what we do and say is seen by the world.

Our witness

It’s our witness, whether good or bad.

And it’s a wonderful opportunity to show God to the world by shining our light in a way that isn’t about us boasting or feeling superior or coming across as holier than thou, but which is instead about glorifying him.

So, my prayer today is that God will give us all grace to step out with confidence, faith and love into the world to serve him in others. May we be light and salt in all the places we go, the words we say and the things we do, so that we may give glory to our Father in heaven.

Amen.

‘Why do you come to me?’ The Baptism of Christ

~ Mel Eyeons ~ Leave a comment

Matthew 3.13-17

Jesus came to John to be baptised.

John tried to stop him, saying, ‘Why do you come to me to be baptised?’.

What kind of world – and what kind of God?

This year has got off to a difficult start.

Wildfires in Australia have burnt an area almost the size of Ireland, which itself covers over 32,000 square miles.

And now trouble has flared between the US and Iran, causing uncertainty and the threat of war.

Such headlines, and ones closer to home of violence and crime in our own communities, can cause us to question what kind of world we live in.

Is it a hostile world, a neutral one, or a welcoming world?

And, beyond that, is God hostile to us, indifferent to us or does he welcome us?

If we look at the painful places within our own lives we meet similar questions and problems.

These are the places we might keep buried, hidden in our hearts, but the memories can still make us sad or afraid.

Such experiences and memories can cause us to doubt the goodness of other people, the world and of God.

This becomes even harder if we sign up to the idea that Christianity is all about being good, that we are completely sinful, and that we killed Jesus by being bad.

With ideas like that God can’t be on our side, never was and never will be.

Such a view kills our spirit, our faith and our hope.

The most we could hope for is a neutral God, away in the distance watching but not getting involved.

You might know the song “From a Distance”, written by Julie Gold, which talks about God watching us from afar and seeing a peaceful world living in harmony.

I’ve never liked this song as it sounds too much like what I’ve just been talking about – a God who’s far off, not getting involved, and not understanding how things really are.

Although, to be fair, I should point out that Gold says she believes that God does get involved and that the song is about the difference between how things are and how they seem to be.

But whether we believe God is angry with us or just indifferent we’re in trouble.

On one hand we have a God who we’re always trying to appease while knowing that we can never meet his standards.

And on the other hand, we have a God whose attention we are desperately trying to attract.

A surprising God

But neither of these are the God that we have.

Back in our gospel reading, when Jesus turns up at the Jordan John is taken aback.

John is aware that his baptism is a lesser thing compared to what Jesus brings.

He knows that he’s only a messenger, that Jesus must increase and he must decrease

Yet Jesus is standing in front of him asking to be baptised along with all the other people, as if he was a normal person.

It’s one thing for Jesus to turn up in power, but quite another for him to wait in a crowd for his turn to be baptised.

John was so surprised that he even tried to stop Jesus being baptised.

As great a prophet as John was he hadn’t yet grasped what Jesus’s mission was all about.

To John God was powerful, other, a bringer of judgement, someone to be appeased.

He wasn’t someone who comes to us and joins in with everyone else.

So, John asks in surprise, ‘Why do you come to me?’.

And this is a question we may ask as well.

Sometimes it seems unbelievable that God would come to us.

Maybe it’s because we believe God is distant, cold, and uninvolved.

Maybe we think we don’t deserve to have God come to us.

Maybe we were taught that God is more concerned with our behaviour than with our life.

Maybe pain, difficulty, losses and bad news have caused us to wonder if God even cares.

Maybe God doesn’t act, speak or think how we expect.

God won’t fit in our box and we can’t seem to get out of it.

I don’t know when or if you ask John’s question but if you do the answer is found right here, in the baptism of Jesus.

When Jesus went down into the water with all the frail, flawed human beings he went because he wanted to save us by being one of us.

He joined in with a baptism he didn’t need to identify with us, with our needs, our hopes, fears, dreams, hurts and failings, in short with our situations as human beings.

And he continues now to come to us because he wants to be one with us, to walk with us, and to help us become the people he knows we can be.

There is no one to whom Jesus doesn’t come.

He comes to the people who’ve lost homes, businesses, friends or family in the fires in Australia, as well as to those putting their lives in danger to battle the flames and rescue both people and animals.

He comes to the people who live in fear of bombs and missiles and loved ones being sent out to make war, as well as to peacemakers.

He comes to people living with deep sadnesses, traumas and fears that imprison them, as well as to people who are full of joy and celebration,

He comes to people who commit crimes, and to their victims, to people who’ve made a mess of everything and those who seem to have everything sorted.

He doesn’t come in the way John expected, or in the way we might sometimes wish for.

He doesn’t come with fire and fury and bolts of lightning, crushing enemies and forcing the world to bend to his will.

Instead, his way is to stand by us, to go into the waters of life with us holding our hand, to be the friend, guide and helper who’ll never leave us.

When Jesus came for baptism John tried to stop him.

Imagine if he’d succeeded?

Welcome or shun?

Yet we all have the ability to stop Jesus coming to us.

We can decide to shut him out, not listen, let difficulties and our inability to always understand what’s going on turn us away from him.

Or we can welcome him in, let him have all of us, both good and bad, allow him to be part of both the happy and the sad parts of our lives, and see the difference he can make when we only let him come to us.

So, may Jesus come to us now and always, in all the seasons of our lives, and may we have the grace to let him in, fully, openly and completely.

Amen.

John the Baptist

~ Mel Eyeons ~ Leave a comment

Isaiah 11.1-10 / Matthew 3.1-12

2nd Sunday of Advent / Year A

Elections

I’ve heard a rumour that there’s some kind of election coming up.

I don’t want to speculate on what the result will be, but in this country, when there’s a change of government the changeover is instant.

On polling day itself there are removal vans standing by in case someone needs to leave Downing Street so that someone else can move in straightaway.

Things are different in the USA, though.

In normal times, at least, when the president isn’t being impeached, the election is held in November but he, or hopefully one day she, doesn’t take over until January.

This time between being elected and being sworn in is known as the transition time.

It’s when the old regime begins to withdraw and the new one prepares to start governing.

Change

And we are also in a transition time, now, not only politically but also spiritually.

For Advent is, among other things, about transition, and the prime symbol of that is John the Baptist.

John is a symbol of transition because he’s the link between the Old Testament and the New.

Some people don’t see the relevance of the Old Testament.

They think that the Old has given way to the New, so we can get rid of it.

Or they think that the Old Testament shows a nasty God and the New Testament a nice one.

This is obviously oversimplifying things but understandably people would rather focus on what they see as the nicer New Testament God.

But what we now call the Old Testament was the Bible of Jesus’s day, so if we’re to understand Jesus’s story we need to understand the scriptures of his time, the ones he grew up with and which shaped the worldview of his time and people.

So, in that spirit, let’s go back to our Old Testament reading from Isaiah for a moment.

Prophecy

This reading contains a prophecy that would’ve been very well known to people at the time of Jesus.

It gives a promise that one day a Messiah will be born in the family line of Jesse, who was the father of King David, whose hometown was Bethlehem.

Suddenly we are in the royal town of Bethlehem, looking at a little baby in a manger who is in the family line of Jesse and David.

This Messiah will establish a new world order where righteousness and justice bring about safety and peace, where there’s an end to violence, destruction and fear, and where God rules over all.

A new era

This is what the Jews were waiting for when John the Baptist appeared.

They wanted a new world where they didn’t have to fear invasion, where they were no longer occupied by a foreign power, and where God would rule the world from Jerusalem.

Then John appeared in the wilderness, wearing camel’s hair and a leather belt.

It’s interesting that we get a description of his clothes because nowhere do we get told what Jesus or any of his disciples wore.

The gospel writers weren’t often very interested in people’s clothing in general.

But John the Baptist’s appearance was very much like that of the prophet Elijah in 2 Kings 1, verse 8, where Elijah is described as ‘A hairy man, with a leather belt around his waist’.

John presents himself almost as a stereotype of one of the old prophets that the Jews knew so well from the scriptures, so it’s no wonder that people flocked to him.

They wanted to be ready for the new kingdom of God and were excited that at last God seemed to be acting.

At last, an end to being looked down on by the countries around them, finally an end to Roman occupation, and a chance to be top dog for ever.

Some of them got a shock, though, those who thought they were automatically better than everyone else.

They didn’t think they needed to repent so much as be baptised to show off their piety.

They were seen for the hypocrites they were and denounced in strong terms, while those who came in humility and real repentance were welcomed.

But John himself wasn’t the new thing that God was doing.

He himself wasn’t the longed-for Messiah.

What John was doing was announcing the end of an old era and the start of the new.

He was preparing the way, making people ready, ensuring Jesus got off to a good start.

He’s fierce about it, but only because of the urgency of his message and his burning desire for people to be saved now that the Messiah is here.

This is why he’s the symbol of transition and the link between our Old and New Testaments.

He speaks, looks and acts like an Old Testament prophet but brings in the era of the New Testament, where the Messiah that the scriptures have been pointing to has finally come.

Still waiting

But, we might object, we don’t yet have all those promises of safety, peace, righteousness and justice.

And this is because we are still in a time of transition.

When Jesus came as that baby in a manger he came to start a process.

He started the process of bringing in the kingdom of God by being born as one of us, living with us and showing God’s power at work in him by healing the sick, raising the dead and showing compassion and mercy to the unloved and outcasts, before dying and rising again for us to win the final victory over sin, evil and death.

What Jesus didn’t come to do was judge the world and wrap everything up in the way that John was expecting.

I guess even great prophets don’t always understand everything.

This is probably why later, in Matthew Chapter 11, John the Baptist writes to Jesus from prison to ask if Jesus really is who John thinks he is.

John has got worried because things aren’t going as expected but Jesus reassures him by pointing to what he’s doing.

That final time of wrapping things up when there really will be safety, peace, righteousness and justice is still ahead of us

Right now we are part of the start of the kingdom of God coming on earth.

Right now we are all voices crying in the wilderness for people to come to God and receive his blessings.

We are charged to proclaim the good news that God has come to us.

Our work for God is to comfort, heal, help and bless, and to be light in the darkness for those who need it.

And we are invited not to try to do this in our own strength but to draw near to God, not only at Advent but all year round, to receive from him, learn from him, be changed by him and strengthened by him.

During this time of transition, when the kingdom of God is growing but not yet fully revealed, we are signs and buds of that glorious future which the Old Testament, John the Baptist and generations of Christians have looked forward to, when death will be no more, God will wipe away every tear from our eyes, and there will be justice, righteousness, peace and mercy for all.