Advent Sunday

On the hill at Ein Karem in the Holy Land stands a simple statue, of two pregnant women greeting one another.  It is in a way shocking, you don't often see statues like that, but it depicts a moment of simple joy between Mary and her cousin Elizabeth.  In Hambleden church last night, in candlelight, I offered a reflection which began with the joy of St Luke's Gospel, where, in the midst of chaos, everyone appears to be singing.  Mary with the Magnificat, Simeon with the Nunc Dimitis, Zechariah, and the Angels.   In the middle of much political unrest, in the middle of unforeseen circumstances, in the middle of minority persecution, they sang hymns of praise.

They sang because, like at the beginning of time, God's Creative Spirit brings joy from the chaos, gives life to barren places, gives hope in our hearts.   We need to sing and we need to teach our children and grandchildren also, to sing, because God's Spirit changes things today.

Personally I felt vulnerable last evening.  The public launch on Thursday meant that everything about me suddenly came into the spot light for everyone and anyone to interpret or reinterpret to suit. I needed much help to sing.

Which is why I am glad it was Advent Sunday.  Advent Sunday reminds us that it was God's coming in vulnerability that we prepare for, and he asks for our vulnerability too.  Like Mary, Elizabeth, Zechariah and many others who have gone before discovered, without our own self exceptance that we are who we are and come to him with all sorts of experiences, some chosen or some not, we cannot begin to allow Gods Spirit to work in us a song, a song for others.

As we pray this Advent, admist the world's chaos, of climate change, of war and terrorism, of inequality, of dual standards, of confusion over what we really think about our bodies (pregnant or not), we do so knowing that the Spirit of God hovers over the chaos, and is within it, seeking to bring peace, hope and joy to a song.

Ordination Sermon

It was a privilege to preach at Christ Church, Cathedral Oxford for the Diocesan Ordinations.  I used the poems of R S Thomas as part of the retreat, along with the theme of journey, using the Ridgeway as an illustration. He is a fantastic poet and gives us all something to reflect upon.

                                

I begin with a poem, written by R S Thomas

Prayers like gravel

            flung at the sky’s

window, hoping to attract

            the loved one’s

attention. But without

            visible plaits to let

down for the believer

            to climb up,

to what purpose open

            that far casement?

                        I would

have refrained long since

            but that peering once

through my locked fingers

I thought that I detected

            the movement of a curtain.

R S Thomas, who died in 2000, was a priest and a poet, described as lacking charity and patience, and known for his Crabbiness, his poetry however captures some of the realities around about life and faith, about pondering some of the deeper things of life, as we do in a service such as this one.

I wonder whether you have had a Romeo or Juliet moment?  Balancing gravel in your hand, throwing it up at a window, wondering if it will be heard? Maybe it actually happened for you, the window really and literally opened and someone responded to your voice. Or, maybe sometime in your life, you have called out, perhaps in prayer, just wondering if anyone is there at all.

The poem is an illustration of faith in most of our lives today, some of us detecting the slight

movement of a curtain, be it a hunch,  a mysterious coincidence or a curious inquisitiveness to push at the door, or throw that stone up at the window, just to see what might happen.

Today, that curtain has moved that bit more noticeably for all of us as we observe faith in action.  As these candidates (names)  respond to God’s call on their lives by being ordained.  25 being ordained in services here today, and of many hundreds being ordained across the country over the last few weeks.

Calling is both a very personal and a very public thing.  Recognised within and without, it brings our past together with our present and catapults us into a future.   It is mystifying and definite, perplexing yet simple;

Our readings today, take that theme, beginning in the Old Testament book of Samuel.  Where

we hear that God had been almost silent, maybe going back to R S Thomas’ poem, the curtain had not moved for a long time and the prayers had stopped.   Samuel was the much longed and prayed for son of Hannah, who according to custom, at around the age of three had been presented to be cared for by the priest Eli, being given to God for a lifetime of service.  As a child he ministered at the Temple.   Today we have heard how Eli, the experienced Priest was growin old, his eyesight had begun to dim so that he could not see, Samuel, his young apprentice was with him in the temple, it was the end of the day, the tabernacle lamps were burning according to custom and the lamp of God had not yet gone out.

I don’t know whether you have seen those survival programmes, but one of the first lessons to learn is how to create a spark, a spark means hope and life, blown in the right way it can be

kindled into a flame,  and so it is with God.  God may have been silent but the lamp had not yet gone out. 

The call for Samuel began.  ‘Samuel’, ‘Samuel’ God whispered, so real, so audible that he thought it was Eli calling him. ‘Here, I am’ he said running to his master.  But checking it out, he realised he was wrong. ‘The third time Eli, encouraged Samuel to respond to God.  Not his earthly master but his heavenly one.   ‘Samuel, Samuel’ God was calling and this time Samuel answered ‘Speak Lord, your servant is listening.’ From then on Samuel was himself engaged, fully signed up,  in the work of God.  Bringing transformation wherever he went and becoming a significant person in the story of God’s people.

The movement of the curtain, the lamp still burning, the gentle whisper of our name. Signs of God’s presence in a world pre-occupied by so much other demanding our attention.  And from Samuel onwards, God continues calling, throughout his Word in times of peace, and in times of unrest, men and women, young and  old, to leave, to go, to do, to be.  And throughout the New Testament Jesus does the same – follow me, come to me, be transformed

 then go and be my disciples.

About once a year, I take a week out of my day to day role to spent time as a Bishop’s Adviser, all those being ordained today will know what that means!  We are the ones who recommend, or not, as the case may be, individuals to proceed to training for ordination.  I consider it a real privilege to sit down with each individual and hear their stories. My faith is increased significantly, as each story echo’s something of the call of Jesus to those early disciples.

Stories of those who grow up determined to enjoy the good life, then God arrives and turns lives upside down. Stories of those who have full lives, yet when each day is over, lay awake

feeling achingly alone. Where is the joy?  Where is the peace ?  where is the love?

Stories of people, for whom on hearing Christ’s call find his words get under their skin, sharpening a discontent, a hunger of something better awakened by Jesus, which refuses to go

away. 

Stories of familiar voices inside saying ‘Don’t do it. Don’t give up everything you’ve worked for.  Yet another voice whispering ‘This is everything you have craved for. Move, follow, be a disciple.’

Stories of no regret, of receiving in return something more precious and enriching than anything the world could offer. Spiritual riches, the wealth of divine love, so great that it needs sharing.

Stories of how eating at the table of the Master, with nothing spread there but the most ordinary gifts of bread and wine, is sharing in a feast which makes royal banquets seem like nothing.

Stories of transformation and family and friends here today I am sure you will recognise some of those stories, as you have stood alongside names of candidates, those you love, and seen God’s call to service become more and more compelling.  Many here will have stories of your own.   Changed hearts and lives.  As a church we may have many plans and programmes, however the greatest impact will be made in the sharing of what God has done in our lives.

Throughout history that still small voice of God, or that sudden command, or that jolt out of

the blue continues to draw people into a life of purpose and adventure with God.  Some do not leave much behind, others have to make huge sacrifices; but whatever the cost that call is

so powerful it takes an individual hunger for meaning and places it within a community of service to bring about transformation.

When Jesus sent his followers out he made sure they knew what was to be done. It was not a hide-n-seek game. It was not to see if they had grasped the unwritten rules. Jesus made his intentions clear. 

A business had relocated and was having a grand re-launch party; And one of the friends of the owner of the new business;  Wanted to send him flowers for the occasion so he phoned a

flower shop and left suitable instructions.  When the owner of the new business received the flowers; he was surprised by the  accompanying card which read: “Rest in Peace.”

The owner was angry and called the florist to complain. After he had told the florist of the obvious mistake and how angry he was, The florist replied, “Sir, I’m really sorry for the mistake, But rather than getting angry, you should imagine this:  Somewhere, there is a funeral taking place today, and they have flowers with a note saying,… ‘Congratulations on your new location”.

  

Christ’s instructions were clear. Towards the end of his time on earth, whilst the lamp of God

had not gone out, Jesus demonstrated powerfully what that calling looked like, as Samuel faithfully served, so God himself in Jesus Christ served his friends.  This is the upside down

kingdom, where the unexpected, that which flies in the face of social norms and customs, becomes the norm. This was more than R S Thomas’ movement of a curtain, this was the opening of the window and the letting down the plaits.  Christ amongst his people washing their sweaty, dusty, soiled feet, the tenderness of God in those simple actions, caring and loving selflessly, personally and unashamedly – the servant King.   Meeting their needs, kneeling before them, cleaning them up, It was so unexpected, that Peter, like Samuel, couldn’t quite comprehend.  It was almost too much for him to bear. ‘For I have set you an example, says Jesus, that you also should do, as I have done for you.’

That simple call to service, which we have before our eyes today, a call to all of us, yet contained significantly in the office and work of a deacon.  A human response by these ordinands to that God of love, who still speaks in our hearts, nudges our lives.  Who takes who we are and have and does amazing things, using our service to bring transformation to

the world.   A life of risk, underwritten by secure and abundant love. 

I have spent the last four days with these great people about to be ordained deacon. Already

their lives are about following and serving, and from today they will do that as clergy – ministering, guiding, praying, modelling.  None of these individuals know the complete picture of what is before them, and on their retreat they have been given some insights to help

them on their journey, all they know that it is a journey of service walking alongside those whom God places by their side and inviting them too into God’s kingdom. A challenging call, for which they will need all your support and encouragement.

As we read our newspapers today, and think about our world, we return to that imagine in the

Poem with which I began, many of us are probably pelting the gravel at the window in prayer

and faith, longing for God to open it once more and for the plaits to be lowered down to us. Today we can see God at work, that movement of the curtain in the call of God upon the lives of ordinary people.  We can hear stories from long ago echoing in stories that are real, today,

testifying to the fact that God’s work of transformation goes on, that reassurance that the lamp of God has not gone out.

For you being ordained today, never forget your story and what has led you to this moment, step out in faith in the full knowledge of God’s call on your life, aware of all those who have gone before you, take your place alongside others, and begin the work that God has called you to.  Yesterday I gave each of you a bag with 5 stones inside to act as markers on your way, today you can also connect them to R S Thomas’ prayers like gravel flung at the sky’s window, reminding you to pray and demonstrate faith for others as you serve.

However, this ordination service is something in which we are all involved and the challenge of faith is that God is calling all of us, by name, from where we are now to something far far deeper and vastly more meaningful, think about what that might be, who should hear your story?  Who should be part of it?  And those here today, who maybe questioning, maybe bemused, maybe sceptical, maybe even a bit inquisitive about all that is going on, I invite you to give God a chance.  To take a small step of faith. 

Later in this service we will all be invited to receive Bread and Wine.  That feast, I mentioned

earlier that for believers makes royal banquets taste like nothing.    There is a wonderful invitation to Communion from the prayers of the Iona Community, a Christian community in

Scotland, something for ordinands and guests alike with which I end:

‘This is the table not of the Church but of the Lord.  It is to be made ready for those who love

him, and who want to love him more.

So, come, you who have much faith and you who have little, you who have been here often

and you who have not been for a very long time, you who have tried to follow and you who

have failed.  Come, not because it is I who invite you: it is our Lord. It is his will that those

who want him should meet him here.’

The lamp of God has not gone out. Today let us all step out in faith and service, be part of

the greatest story ever told and in doing so bring transformation to our world.

Lent 2015

#washday was one of the themes of Lent 2015.  As I passed a number of villages during that time I decided to play my part in the clean up.