Tag: Week 17

Today’s reading is like the first draft of a film script – the king, the dancing girl, and John. Its storyline is one that is familiar to most of us, albeit often in a jumbled form. It is so familiar because many who have gone before us have recognised its dramatic potential. They have created films, plays, ballets and programme music, inspired by the strength of John and the weakness of Herod.

John, from his conception, was destined to take on the mantle of the Old Testament prophets. He was the one foretold who would prepare the path for the long awaited Messiah, the anointed one of God, who we know as Jesus Christ.

As John brought his message to the people, he called for repentance, that is, a turning back. John was aware that humanity would fall short of the good news of the coming Messiah. He also knew that the only appropriate way to prepare for that coming involved the casting aside of human sin, and a personal rededication to following the paths laid for us by God. As an outward sign of that commitment to repentance, John also brought baptism.

In his time, we know that Jesus himself shared in that ritual cleansing of all that is sinful, in that ritual moment of committing ourselves to God.

Of course, both Jesus and John lived in a dangerous world.

For John, the greatest danger lie in the person of Herod. This Herod, the son of Herod the Great, the one who tried to kill the baby Jesus, whilst claiming to be the king of the Jews, demonstrated great contempt for the Jewish law. In particular, his marriage to Herodias, the wife of his brother Philip, revealed the extent of his depraved lifestyle. Whilst many would have recognised this, it was John, who shouted it from the roof tops. The rest, as they say, is history.

A birthday party was thrown, the beautiful stepdaughter danced, the wife plotted. John was brutally executed.

But this is not a film script. It is scripture. The familiarity of the story should not anaesthetise us to its message.

At this point in Matthew’s gospel, we are being reminded of what lies ahead for Jesus. We are being reminded that if we truly commit ourselves to following Christ, the going could get tough. We are reminded of the importance of honesty and courage, in the face of the fiercest opposition. We are being shown what could happen, and we are being asked to hold firm to our commitment.

Are we strong enough for all that? Is our faith strong enough that we might trust solely in God’s love and grace, no matter what?

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Note: After this reflection, the daily service of prayer continued without a gospel reflection until 21st September, when the reflections resumed.

In earlier days, when I lived and worked in a very different world, I often found myself auditioning actors, singers and dancers for roles in professional theatrical productions. Those aspiring actors, singers and dancers all brought training, experience and hope into the audition room. The majority walked away from the audition experience with exactly the same amount of training, a little more experience, and completely dashed hopes.

You don’t have to be in the role I occupied to dash the hopes of others. It is so easy, in our straight talking and honest way, to destroy the hopes of others.

It is true that those actors, singers and dancers were putting themselves through the psychological wringer, and it is true that rejection is an inevitable part of the process, but that is not the case for all those people we reject, day in and day out, through our unkind and thoughtless words.

We may feel that by saying it as we see it, we are, in fact, being kind – but are we?

Very often our harshest words are reserved for those we claim to hold nearest and dearest to our hearts: our children, our spouse, our siblings, our parents. If we cannot be bothered to temper the way we address the truth with them, how must we come across to the stranger?

This is exactly where we find Jesus in today’s reading. Those who had seen him grow up could not bring themselves to accept that he had anything to teach them. Rather, they took offence at him. How dare the carpenter’s son try to teach them?

For Jesus, the rejection of those who had known him the longest was a matter of course. He had tried, and he had been rejected.

Sadly, though, they were the losers. Not only had they rejected his exciting, life-affirming and life-changing teaching, but they had also rejected his deeds of power. Not for that community the joy of divine healing and forgiveness.

This passage is situated almost half way through Matthew’s gospel. No one in Jesus’ hometown could have credibly claimed ignorance of all that Jesus had done up to this point in his ministry, but they still rejected him.

Where are we in this narrative? We know much more of the story, but still Jesus is rejected by so many.

Are we ready to stand firm, listen, and then follow Jesus?

Or are we going to join the sceptical throng, which will one day turn scorn into shouts of crucify him?

Today’s reading is one of those moments in the gospel narrative that we often skip over because its meaning isn’t that obvious, and certainly not in the way that we are offered it today.

Normally yesterday’s reading and today’s are combined into one passage made up of three short parables. In that way, we are almost encouraged to focus on the images of the treasure and the pearl of great value, and gloss over the equally challenging words about the new and the old.

So many of us struggle with the idea of things that are new. During our months of lockdown, almost every aspect of our lives has had to be reinvented and viewed through a different lens. We have been forced into embracing the new.

As days pass, the challenge of the new grows stronger and increasingly irresistible. The country is opening up after four months of almost total inactivity, and yet much of what we see around is different, it is new.

Businesses and churches are now required to focus on their primary purpose. For the church, this means we must focus on prayer and worship. There is no room in the new way of things for any other sort of communal gathering, not even a post-worship cup of coffee.

For the moment, things are different, things are new.

Today’s reading can help us through the challenges and confusions of these days, if we will let it.

The new of which Jesus speaks is about himself. Jesus’ earthly ministry brought a new clarity and a new vision to our faith in God.

Over recent weeks, I have found myself constantly reflecting on the ways in which Jesus challenged the human constructs that had stifled lively and proactive faith in God – human constructs that impose so many unnecessary constraints on the way people live out their daily lives. Jesus’ teaching and signs of power show us that a life of faith can be so much more exciting than that.

But Jesus also taught the value of God-given law, of the words of the prophets, of those traditions that keep us focussed on God.

Jesus honours both the new and the old.

Yes, we are living through strange times. Yes, things look different, and things feel new. But we are being given the opportunity to refocus our lives on the prayer and worship, which should be the primary focus of every Christian life.

Let us rejoice and give thanks for that opportunity, and cling on to only that which enriches our prayer and worship, so that others may see and taste the joy of God’s love in their lives.

How often have you found yourself torn between understanding and action Between what you know you should do, and the impulse to do something different, even the exact opposite?

From a young age, we struggle with this dilemma. Those who are older and more experienced try to teach us the difference between right and wrong, between kind and cruel, between good and evil. But we still so often make the wrong choice.

When we are young, our bad choices rarely have serious consequences, largely because parents and teachers pick up the pieces and help us to rebuild our lives.

As we get older, the consequences of our poor choices become increasingly important, as they develop the potential to have devastating effects on our lives.

In today’s reading, we hear two single-sentence parables that contain guidance on making the right choice. Each short parable speaks of something that is of great value, and that can only be acquired at great personal cost. In fact, the treasure and the pearl of great value can only be acquired following the sacrifice of everything deemed to be of value in this world.

Why should any one make such a sacrifice? The treasure and the pearl may be of immense value, but what good can they be if all else is gone? How can one live and flourish as the possessor of just one valuable item?

Too often, we spend our time using our fallible and inadequate human wisdom to reach poor and ill-informed decisions. Too often, the decisions we make focus on our acquisition of wealth.

Today, Jesus is reminding us that there is something of much higher value than worldly wealth and possessions. How can the kingdom of heaven stand comparison with anything in this world?

In his parables, Jesus speaks of treasure and a pearl of great value. But he is only using words and images we can comprehend to describe something way beyond our understanding, and of infinitely great value.

Can we set aside our self-interest and greed? Can we make the right choice? Can we become children of God, citizens of the kingdom of heaven?

Or is the call of worldly wealth just too strong to resist?

In today’s reading, Jesus is reminding us that when he comes in glory, on a day and at a time we cannot predict, there will be a time of judgement. Those who reject the love and the call of God cannot expect to then revel in the glorious light of his kingdom. This may sound straightforward: good people this way, bad people that way. But can it really be that simple?

The rectory in Corby Glen is very well appointed. It is built with a very accurate east–west orientation. In the morning, we can see the sunrise in all its glory. In the evening we benefit from the most amazing sunsets. Surely this must be a foretaste of the sun shining in the kingdom of our God.

But, whilst our sunrise and sunset may fill us with a warm glow, Jesus’ audience would not have shared in our sense of restful self-satisfaction. As I know from personal experience, the sun in the Middle East, on almost every day of the year, isn’t just dazzling, it can be terrifying in the intensity of its heat. From dawn to dusk, those who heard Jesus’ words would have been used to constantly seeking protection and shade. When Jesus says that the righteous will shine like the sun, he is making an enormous statement about the power of the relationship the righteous will have entered into with God himself.

As we journey through this life, we are all called to reflect and embody the love and glory of God himself. In Genesis, we read that humanity was created by God, in his own image. Because we are all different people, and yet share in being created in God’s image, we are called to accept that God intends that each of us should be reflectors of different facets of his glory.

So often, I hear of people being described as good Christians, simply because they have a reputation for being nice. Sadly, as we can learn from today’s reading, just being nice is not enough.

To enter into a true relationship with God is about acknowledging and accepting that we are made in his image. We must then live every moment of our lives in the certainty of that knowledge. Then our commitment to reflecting the love and glory of God will truly shine out as a dazzling example to others. Then, through us, the Lord’s harvest will grow and grow.

Thanks be to God.

Over the past few months, God has come in for a lot of criticism. Even those who have little or no faith have joined in. Why doesn’t God do something? How could your God do this to us? The frustrations of many have been expressed in this way: It must be God’s fault.

When we are not blaming God, we devote a lot of time and effort to finding someone else to blame. After all, if we are being inconvenienced, there must be someone we can blame.

At the moment a lot of people seem to be spending a lot of time and effort, blaming the government, the House of Bishops, even local clergy, for the restrictions that have been imposed in respect of the reopening of churches. Despite the obvious intention of creating an environment where everyone can feel safe as they pray to and worship God, people seem to feel the need to apportion blame.

Today’s reading is particularly apposite to a consideration of the blame culture, because it is about waiting, about being patient. This is difficult for many because in general, people do not like to wait. They are, by nature, impatient. Our modern technological age has led us to expect instantaneous gratification, not a place at the back of a long queue. Our survival of the fittest mentality has taught us that if we shout loud enough, and in a convincingly aggressive manner, we will get our own way.

But Jesus’ response to all of that impatience is direct and unequivocal. Jesus says, No, wait. All will come good in God’s own time.

Jesus speaks of mustard seed, which is incredibly tiny, and yeast. These two, small, ordinary things possessed within them properties that belie their ordinariness. The tiny mustard seed can grow into the largest of trees. The yeast can grow and grow to produce the most wonderful and sustaining bread. But both demand patience, if their full potential is to be realised.

This is just like the kingdom of God, the coming of which we pray for in the Lord’s Prayer.

The nation’s churches are reopening for prayer and worship. Prayer and worship are the primary functions of our churches.

Let us give thanks to God that we have come to this point after months of patient waiting.

Let us learn Jesus’ lesson of patience and forbearance.

Let us set aside the irrelevant and move forward with Christian love and hope in our hearts.

Then we may see that our focussed prayer and worship may flourish, just like the mustard seed and the yeast, in our community, and throughout the world.