First Sunday of Lent: A Prayer

[A prayer for Sunday 21 February 2021
To listen to the sermon and the prayer, click here]

Lord, you know us far too well.
Better than we know ourselves;
Better than we want to know or be known.

We are not proud of our lives.
Oh, yes, there are things we have done
and things we have achieved.
But we have failed some of the more important tests:

We have not been the loving children we could have been;
We have not been the loving parents
or partners we could have been.

We have been chasing dreams instead of creating memories.
Looking for treasure instead of building relationships.
We have lived fearfully, hoarding what we have.
Yet you have called us to live generously
as you have lived with us,
To give, so that we can receive and give again.

You know us so well,
Yet you remain our loving heavenly Father;
Full of love for us, full of joy at the possibilities you see in us;
Delighted to spend time with us.

Jesus, our friend and brother,
Our Saviour and Lord,
We want to walk with you on this Lenten journey.
Help us to turn from our sins
and renounce those things that destroy relationships;
that create barriers among us;
that separate us from you.

Help us find ways to connect with you
and connect with one another in these strange times.
Help us share one another’s burdens,
Share each other’s pain,
and walk with each other towards the light of resurrection
to discover our place within your family.

In Jesus’ name.

Amen

First Sunday of Lent: A sermon

Photo by Mimi Moromisato from Pexels

‘Do you repent of your sin and renounce all evil?’
The first question asked at Baptism. But the Christian life is not a checklist of dos and don’ts. It is a journey into relationship. The journey may not begin with repentance, but with a welcome.

___________________________

Lent and the virus

Today is the first Sunday of Lent.

It is a period (traditionally) of fasting until the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus on Easter Sunday.

‘What are you giving up for Lent?’ was a common question when I was growing up. Most of the time it was (reluctantly) sweets and chocolates.

Some would say that this year we have been forced to give up worshiping together, we have given up hugs and holding each other close. You could say we have given up the lower half of our faces!

But we must not think that these constitute the essence of worship or the only signs of friendship. They are just what we are used to, how we are used to worshiping and showing affection.

So, this virus is challenging us to change our pace and to find new ways to worship, to engage with each other and to care for those who are struggling.

In the same way, the period of Lent calls us to change our pace and challenges us to find new ways to live and to express our faith – to learn new ways in which we can draw closer to Jesus and draw others to him and to his family, the church.

Baptism

But we must be sure that the new things are rooted and ground in our faith. So, what better place to start than with our baptism, our coming into the family of God? Traditionally, Lent is a time to prepare new members for baptism on Easter Sunday.

And the first question put to candidates for baptism or Confirmation is ‘Do you repent of your sin and renounce all evil?’

This isn’t a very happy question, of course.

The second question is much more comforting: ‘Do you trust in Jesus as your Lord and Saviour?’

However, while we would much rather spend time thinking about Jesus as our Lord and Saviour, today we are going to concentrate on the first question: ‘Do you repent of your sin and renounce all evil?’

Having a series of questions and answers about our faith does help us remember the basics, but it can also be a trap.

Checklists

Like most people, we Christians like to take the easy route. We take the wonders of awesome God, the challenging words of scripture and the mysteries our faith and we cut them down to size and package them in bite-sized pieces – usually in the form of a list of what’s allowed and what is not, of who is in and who is out.

We translate ‘the way of Jesus’ into a checklist of do’s and don’ts.

And even these powerful questions of our baptism are reduced to some sort of test – get them right and you’re in. Tick here if you want to go to heaven.

Repent and renounce

So, our question today, ‘Do you repent of your sin and renounce all evil?’ is treated as an entrance requirement. If you do, you’re in. If not, well, come back when you’re ready.

Personally, I don’t think this question should be first on the list for people who are coming into faith.

I’m not suggesting for a moment that sin isn’t real and that it doesn’t separate us from God. It is real and it does. I’m also not suggesting that repentance and renouncing evil isn’t part of the deal – it is. It’s an essential part of our relationship with God, our journey with God. I am just not so sure that it comes first.

Sin and holiness – light and dark

There is absolutely no doubt that there is sin and evil in the world, and that there is a fair amount of it in the hearts of each one of us. It is equally true that sin and holiness cannot mix; God and evil cannot coexist. We cannot bring evil into the Kingdom of God; we cannot continue to sin, do those things that hurt God or his creation and expect to live happily in his family.

You can’t bring darkness into a lightened room. When the light goes on, darkness disappears. That’s how it is. You can block the light with furniture and create shadows where the light is hidden, but where there is light, there is no darkness.

So, when I suggest there might be a problem with this question, it’s not because repenting and renouncing evil aren’t important. They are; they’re essential. But they don’t always come first like we think they do. And sometimes, the way we understand them gets in the way of everything else.

Jesus

We tend to see repentance as an entrance requirement. You have to do this if you want to come in. If you don’t wear a mask and you don’t sanitise your hands, you’re not coming in.

Repent, turn away from evil, then God will consider your application for adoption.

Jesus doesn’t seem to have understood repentance and renouncing evil like that.

For Jesus, it is part of the package of Good News, part of what we do on the journey. For us, it becomes a barrier to entrance.

‘You support abortion, you’re divorced, you’re rude, arrogant, cheeky; you drink too much, gamble, cheat on your spouse, lie, steal …. God doesn’t want you like that,’ we say. ‘Come back when you’ve sorted your life out.’

The prodigal son

But if we look at the stories Jesus told and his actions around sinful people, we find quite a different approach.

The prodigal son wasn’t asked whether he had really repented or had only come home because he was hungry. The father didn’t care. That’s a question the older brother would have asked, not the father. His son was home, and he welcomed him with open arms and a fatted calf. He didn’t give him a list: ‘Tick these boxes, and then we’ll have a chat about whether you fit in. And, of course, your older brother will have to approve.’

None of that. The father threw a party and gave him a place of honour in his heart and in the home.

And the older brother? Those of us who are ‘older’ in the faith? God doesn’t ask our permission before opening the doors of his heart, before welcoming sinners and backsliders.

We, too, have a place in God’s heart, but we’d better get used to the idea that we share that place with all the other children God loves and calls his own. And that, without our prior approval.

Woman caught in adultery

Then there is the woman caught in adultery. We like to emphasis the fact that Jesus told her to go and sin no more. But that was after he said, ‘I don’t condemn you.’

He didn’t give her a conditional certificate of forgiveness: ‘If you promise to stop sinning, I’ll forgive you. And if you do stop, well, then we’ll make this forgiveness permanent.’ [like employment & probation]

For Jesus, forgiveness is unconditional. And the crazy thing is, it comes first.

Sin

We think about sin as a list of dos and don’ts, and we must try to get as many of them right as possible.

The Bible looks at sin as to how it affects our relationships, both with God and with others. Again and again, God shows us he is interested in relationships not rightness, not ticking boxes. He doesn’t say, ‘I’ll let you in if you do it like this.’

Instead, he says, ‘Come and join the party.’

Past versus possibilities

You see, God is interested in our possibilities, not our past.

We ask, ‘What has this person done? How bad are they?’ and we start closing doors.

God asks, ‘How can I help this person shine?’ and he opens doors to new possibilities.

You see, God believes in the good news, in the power of the Gospel. He takes it seriously. I don’t think we share that faith quite so much.

God believes that if you come to his party, you won’t be able to help yourself; you’ll want to stay.

The pearl and the treasure

Jesus said we don’t need to force people or tell them to sell everything and to let go of their past. If they just get a sniff of that pearl beyond riches, if they just get a glimpse of that treasure hidden away, they won’t be satisfied with anything else. They won’t be able to help themselves. They’ll get rid of everything, just to have that treasure, just to own that pearl.

I don’t think we really believe that so much. We think God’s holiness has to be protected somehow; that the good news is so fragile it needs to be kept back. So, we stand at the door with a list of requirements. And repenting of sin and renouncing all evil is top of the list. If you want what God offers, if you want to join this family, if you want a piece of the Good News, you have to tick these boxes.

All evil

But, friends, we have to be very careful here because the question is ‘Will you … renounce all evil.’

The truth is we don’t know half of it.

I was a 14 year-old kid when I gave my life to Jesus. I repented of sin and renounced all evil. Of course I did. I’d heard about the party. I’d had a glimpse of the treasure. I knew what the pearl looked like.

But, at that point, I didn’t have any idea of just how much evil I was capable of. I wanted to follow Jesus; I wanted to let go of all evil. But I hadn’t even begun to do evil. Sin (real sin) had hardly had any chance to rear its ugly head in my life. What did I know about sin and evil and of its power and destructive force; of how much I would hurt those around me and destroy relationships? What did I know?

God knew

But I want to tell you this. God knew. He knew. He knew not how bad I’d been – that was nothing – he knew how bad I was going to be. And he still loved me and welcomed me with open arms.

You see, God believes in the power of his love. He knows that it is his love that will rescue, heal and give new life even to the worst of us.

So: ‘Do you repent of your sin and renounce all evil?’

It doesn’t mean will you promise never to sin again, never to entertain evil. Because, trust me on this, you are going to mess up. Some of you will mess up in ways you could not imagine. But God knows. Your baptism wasn’t a mistake. God accepting you into his family wasn’t a slip, like your neighbour’s Takealot order coming to you instead. You are meant to be here; you are wanted.

Our baptism is a reminder, not to God (he doesn’t need a reminder) it’s a reminder to you and to me that we are already part of the family of God, showered with his love. And nothing we can do will ever change that.

Do you want to share in this journey?

So, don’t be frightened by the question, do you repent of your sin and renounce all evil? And let’s be sure not to use it as a weapon against others.

It simply means, do you want to share in this journey; do you want to walk with one who loves you so much? He will walk with you through the ups AND the downs. He will never leave you.

Let me invite you to use this time of Lent, this quiet, separated Lent, to reflect on God’s love and find new ways to relate to him; find new ways to let go of the things that separate you from God and from the people around you; find new ways to connect with God and with the rest of his beautiful (and crazy) family.

How about five minutes a day reading the Prestbury Methodist Church Lent Diary (ask me for a copy, if you like) or a devotion of your own?

How about five minutes a day reading through the Gospel of Mark or John?

The journey begins today. It is a difficult one, scary even, but it ends in the victory of resurrection and the glory of God.

Blessing to you all.

Amen

[For the prayer from the end of the message, see here]

Are we nearly there yet? A sermon for Advent 3

Are you the one? John’s disciples asked it of Jesus, and we ask it of our day-to-day ‘heroes’ we hope will set us free — will this President fix the economy (and Covid-19)? Will this Lotto ticket win? But there is only One, and he promises that ‘whatever it is that holds life hostage is about to be defeated.’

Prepared for the Scottsville Methodist Fellowship, Pietermaritzburg, 13 December 2020 (Third Sunday in Advent)

For the prayer from the end of the message, see here

The Greatest Commandment: A sermon for Pentecost 23 (25 October 2020)

Readings: Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17; Deuteronomy 34:1-12; Matthew 22:34-46

Being remembered

What are you going to leave behind?
And I don’t mean houses and bank balances. But how will you be remembered?

Of course, we don’t like to answer that question, because we know all too well what some people in our lives are going to remember. So, we prefer to answer a slightly different question: ‘How would you like to be remembered?’ No doubt we’ve all got ideas about that.

But that suggests another question, doesn’t it?
What are we doing about it? How are we living and engaging with people so that they will remember us as we want to be remembered?
What really matters? What should we be focussing on?

Moses

Moses led the people of Israel out of Egypt and through the desert for 40 years. He brought them to the banks of the Jordon river and the edge of the promised land. Over ‘there’ was home.
But not for Moses. His job was to get them there. The task of conquering and settling the land was for the next generation led by Joshua.

How would Moses be remembered? He was certainly remembered as the one who brought them out of slavery and into a covenant relationship with God. But what would they do with that legacy? Would they remain faithful to the covenant, or would they abandon all that Moses had taught them?

Perhaps Moses wondered about that as he gazed across at the promised land.

How will you and I be remembered?

The greatest commandment

Jesus tells us that the best thing to be remembered for is loving God and loving others.

The Sadducees had failed to trip Jesus up, so the Pharisees wanted to have a go. One of their number asked Jesus:
‘Which is the greatest commandment in the law?’

We often ask about the best thing to do.
‘What’s the best decision I can make in this situation?’
‘What should I study first for my exams?’
‘What’s the best car to buy?’

And in Pharisee school, the students and their tutors were always arguing about which commandment was the most important. Hence the question to Jesus:
‘Which is the greatest commandment?’

Now we might have different opinions about that.

If you were to ask a parent which is the greatest, most important command they might say, ‘Honour your father and mother, that you may live a long life.’

A judge would say, ‘Do not give false testimony.’ And your boss: ‘Do not steal.’

Your neighbour might point to the tenth commandment: ‘Do not covet your neighbour’s wife, house or anything that belongs to your neighbour.’

And, with churches closed during the Covid-19 lockdown, perhaps church treasurers might say that the most important command is, ‘Bring your tithes and offerings into the House of the Lord.’

Love God and love your neighbour

When Jesus was asked, he did not choose one of the Ten Command­ments. It is as if he were telling the Pharisees, and us:
‘These ten commandments cannot be split up. You can’t pick and choose. One is not more important than the other.’

‘The greatest command is found in Deuteronomy 6:5, “love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your mind.”
Then he said, ‘The second is like it (Leviticus 19:18): “Love your neighbour as you love yourself.”
‘The whole Law of Moses and the teachings of the prophets depend on (can be understood in the light of) these two commandments.’

If you want to know what is right and wrong, what you should or shouldn’t do in a particular situation, you could check against the Ten Commandments, or you could check through the list of 613 commandments the rabbinic tradition held to. But Jesus said that we should rather ask, ‘Will this action or attitude be an expression of my love for God or for my neighbour?’

Whose son is he?

Then Jesus asked the Pharisees a question of his own:
‘What do you think about the Messiah? Whose son is he?’

Of course, ‘whose son is he?’ was a question that had been asked before about Jesus:
In Mark 6 and Luke 4, Jesus returned to his hometown of Nazareth, and he preached in the synagogue. The people said: ‘But, isn’t this the carpenter? Isn’t this Mary’s son and the brother of James, Joseph …? Aren’t his sisters here with us?’‘Whose son is this?’ And they rejected him.

And the way Jesus answers his own question suggests that where we come from, our family background or where we live, or even what we have done or failed to do, is not particularly important. What matters is how we live: how we relate to God and how we relate to others.

Rules

None of us is any good at sticking to the rules.

The Psalmist says, ‘There is no one who does good, not even one.’ (Psalm 53:3)
And Paul writes: ‘All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.’ (Romans 3:23)

It doesn’t matter whether we take the Ten Commandments or the 613 from the rabbis, or any other list of dos and don’ts. We are going to fail. And if that is how we are remembered, our friends will say, ‘He kept 527 of the commandments.’
While our enemies will say, ‘He failed 86 of them.’

But is that what really matters?
Jesus says, ‘No.’

How much better to say of someone, ‘She didn’t always get it right, but you could see her love for God, shining in her face.’
Or ‘He wasn’t a saint, but you knew that everything he did, he did because he really loved people.’

Jesus makes it clear that the rule that holds everything together, that demands our absolute attention is ‘Love God’, and tied up so closely with it that they become one thing: ‘Love your neighbour as you love yourself.’

‘Love your neighbour, not as somebody who is different from you, not as someone who is separate from you; love your neighbour as if they were you.’

Rules are about what I can do and what I can’t do.
Love isn’t about me at all. Love is about what God wants and what my neighbour wants.

Love matters

Loving God means we put aside our lives and become involved with what God is doing. And Jesus makes it clear that our love for God and our involvement in his work can only be expressed in our love for others.

He said it again in the upper room in John 13: he gave his disciples a new commandment, to love one another. He said, ‘By your love for one another, the world will know that you are my disciples.’
And later he prayed, ‘that they might be one, so that the world will believe.’
In his first letter, John made it even more clear: ‘How can you say you love God whom you have not seen, if you do not love your brothers and sisters whom you have seen?’

Friends, there are many things we as Christians can do in the world to make the world a better place. But if we do not love each other, if we do not find a way to work together, we will not be doing the work of God.

We will be doing good things, certainly, but we will not be living as Christ followers. What we do will not turn the world upside down. What we do, however great, however important, will not bring people into the Kingdom. It is how we do it, how we live and how we love, that will transform our neighbourhoods, our communities and our world.

When we make Christianity more about rules, what we are allowed and not allowed to do, we burden ourselves with guilt because of our many failures. And we dare not let anyone know, because everyone else seems so perfect.

Masks

So, we put on masks, then no one will know what we are really like. Not the Covid-19 masks that just mask our face, but those that mask our nature, that cover our failure.

Social media, such as Facebook and Instagram, tends to be one big rollercoaster of health, happiness and all-round success. Very much like the way we present ourselves in church, where we keep smiling and pretending all is well.

One writer put it: ‘Sometimes, church is the last place where people feel free to be themselves. They cover up with Sunday clothes and Sunday smiles.’ [Sarah Young (2004), Jesus Calling, October 19]

How can we love each other if we don’t know who we are, if we don’t know whether the person we are engaging with is a real person or just a façade?

Barriers

We create so many barriers between us: Race, gender, age, culture, wealth, where we live, even how we worship. We use these things to divide us, to help us decide who we like and who we will mix with and listen to.

Our differences are not the problem. God has given us our differences as a gift to enrich our lives and the world in which we live.

The problem is that we have chiselled our differences into the concrete walls we build between us. We might not know quite what we believe, but we know what we don’t believe and who we don’t believe and what we don’t like and what we won’t put up with.

When we hear about the confrontation at Senekal or protests around the country, it is easy to take sides. Based on our experiences, our preferences, and which side of the wall we are on, we assume that we know who is right and who was wrong.

Your neighbour needs you

But Jesus says, ‘Your neighbour needs you.’
Our neighbour on the other side of that concrete wall needs us. And it doesn’t matter whether it is our wall or their wall, our neighbour needs our love. Not our wisdom, not our clever remarks, not our solutions, and not our opinions. Our neighbour needs our love.

But we are afraid of what is on the other side of that wall. So, we start asking the questions that the opponents of Jesus asked him, like:

‘Who is my neighbour?’
‘Which is the greatest commandment? What should I be doing first? What’s the most important thing?’

And the answer Jesus gives us reminds me of a question Phillip Yancy refers to in one of his books: ‘What would grace look like now.’

As we peer over the concrete wall between us and our neighbour, between us and our children, our spouse, our colleague, what would love look like. How can I offer grace?

And if we are not sure what the loving thing to do might be, perhaps we will find inspiration in a basket of fruit, which is always well received: ‘The fruit of the Spirit,’ Paul tells us, ‘is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.’ (Galatians 5:22-23)

Pick one and offer it to your neighbour today.

‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your mind. And love your neighbour as you love yourself.’

Amen

For the prayer, see: The Greatest Commandment: A prayer for Pentecost 23

God hears in the wilderness

SCRIPTURE: Psalm 86:1-10; Genesis 21:8-21; Matthew 10:24-39

Happy Fathers’ Day.

I’m sorry, fathers, but you know how it is. Mothers get all the love in Mothers’ Day sermons; fathers usually get the lectures.

Mothers are told how wonderful they are, and the sermons are addressed to everyone else, telling them how to love their mothers and be like their mothers. Fathers, however, get told how they could be, and how they should be, better fathers. I’m not saying we don’t need it, I’m just sayin’.

Part of the problem is that so much is expected of fathers. I’m not suggesting for a moment that mothers have it easy — I wouldn’t dare! But fathers are expected to stand tall, win their battles, and provide food for their families. Of course, it’s our own fault. It’s a man’s world, and we have made it that way. We actually like being in charge and telling others what to do. But it comes with a price, and the price, I would suggest, is loneliness and even fear — especially fear of failure.

Emotions
I envy Jen and her friends. They share from the heart the most trivial and the most intense. It doesn’t matter if it makes them laugh or cry, that’s ok.

We men get emotional, too, of course. Just watch us at a sporting event when our team is about to win or is beaten by a foul.  We’ll laugh and even cry on each other’s shoulders. But, apart from that, we’re very careful about which emotions we stir up. Sadly, it’s most often the destructive emotions like frustration and anger we feel more comfortable with.

But if the world tells you as you are growing up that men don’t cry, then the positive, caring emotions become a bit suspect. And our heroes don’t help either.

Heroes
Heroes like Louis L’Amour’s cowboys I grew up with and Robert Ludlum’s Jason Bourne are big, strong and confident men, able to look after themselves and fix things.

And then there are others like The Famous Five and Harry Potter who are very different types of hero. They are the nerds, if you like, who make good in spite of the physical odds against them. Clever, courageous and very brave.

But the message is the same: you have to win. Whether you outbox him or outfox him, you have to win your battles or, somehow, you’re not quite the man you ought to be.

Biblical heroes
Biblical heroes are very different. For a book full of heroes of the faith, the Bible is remarkably frank about their weaknesses and failures. And their failure is often tragic. When they try to take charge, they mess up badly. But when they admit their utter dependence on God, winning happens. Although, ‘winning’ might not always be quite what was expected.

Perhaps God is telling us that life is not about winning, about being successful, it’s about relationships. Fatherhood is not about providing for a family or leading a family; it’s about being a family.

When we focus on winning, on achieving our goals, then relationships suffer, and people are left behind. It’s been there from the very beginning, in Abraham and Sarah, this first family in the faith. Our story of Hagar and Ishmael was one of the lowest moments in Abraham and Sarah’s life together.

But let’s start with our Matthew passage.

Matthew 10
In Matthew 10, Jesus prepares his disciples for the mission field, and he tells them (and us) what following him will involve. And it’s not for the fainthearted.

Jesus says that people will swear at us — and they’ll mean it. Then, as if to comfort us, Jesus says, ‘But don’t worry about them. What can they do to you? They can only kill you.’
‘Oh! I wasn’t planning on getting killed.’
‘But if you want to follow me,’ Jesus goes on, ‘you must lay down your life and take up your cross.’
And the cross is not just a heavy burden or a shiny pendant, it’s an instrument of torturous death. Taking up our cross means preparing to die.

So, living a Jesus life doesn’t mean a nice comfortable seat in church and a friendly Bible study. Far from it. Jesus tells us that he has not come to bring peace, but a sword. Families and friendships will be torn apart. Your enemy isn’t the devil, he tells us; your enemy will be among your family and friends. And we know that we find the enemy all too often inside ourselves.

‘This isn’t what I signed up for’
What happened?

What about all the ‘peace and goodwill’ the angels sang about at Christmas?
What about the warm fuzzy feelings the Magi experienced when they gathered around the baby?
What about the love poured out on the cross and Jesus dying in our place?
What about the power of the Holy Spirit, of the fruit of love, joy and peace?
Where is the Good News in all of this?

John van der Laar wrote about this passage, and he said, ‘this isn’t what I signed up for’. [‘I Didn’t Sign Up For This’, Sacredise]

A two-a-penny sparrow

But that’s not all Jesus says in Matthew 10. He also tells us that not even a two-a-penny sparrow is out of God’s sight and care. And he even knows how many hairs are left on your head. And, what’s more, ‘if you tell the world you belong to me,’ Jesus says. ‘I will do the same for you before my Father in heaven.’

‘This one belongs to me,’ he’ll say. ‘That one is mine.’

No matter what happens, all hell might be breaking loose around us, but we are claimed by God. Our relationship with God is secure.

In the middle of the darkness
Life is not easy, for anyone. That’s not the promise.

The world thinks that peace and joy are found in easy living, a world cruise or winning the lotto. And, while those would be nice, much more meaningful peace and joy are to be found not by running away but in the middle of the darkness and pain and suffering.

There are very many of you listening to this message who could tell us how you have found God to be most real and closest to you, when the darkness was the greatest, the pain the hardest to bear, the mountain impossible to climb.

It’s not that God wants these things for us, but they are part of life, and it is in the middle of our messy lives that God connects with us and we find our peace, and true success. And it is in the middle of our messy lives that God’s heroes are made. Not by escaping the pain, but by consistently choosing, in every situation, to be better than normal.

Genesis 21
And that brings us back to our Abraham story.

Sarah and Abraham were never perfect examples of faith and saintliness. But God chose this broken, struggling couple and enabled them to become better than normal in critical moments of their lives because their greatest desire was to walk with God.

But they sure got it wrong at times. And Genesis 21 is perhaps the darkest chapter in Sarah and Abraham’s life. God promised them so much, but like us, they took matters into their own hands and hurt themselves and others in the process.

Abraham and Hagar
Among other things, they decided to help God with his plan to give Abraham an heir. After all, time’s marching on. Abe is already nearly 90. So, they agree that he should sleep with Sarah’s maid Hagar and get his heir that way. And so, Ishmael was born.

Well, when Sarah finally had her own son, Isaac, the true heir, all the bitterness and jealousy of the past ten years or so began to emerge and be dumped on Hagar and her son, Ishmael.

Hagar and Ishmael thrown out
Finally, Sarah succeeds in having Hagar and Ishmael thrown out. But don’t blame Sarah. Abraham was no saint in this matter, and if we read their story, Sarah’s life had been miserable. Be that as it may, Hagar is out in the wilderness with just enough food and water to take them out of sight but not enough to survive.

And when it was all gone, Hagar left Ishmael under a bush because she couldn’t bear to watch him die.

But God…
And then it happened. One of those, ‘But God,’ moments we come across so often in the Bible. They were dying; this was the end; they couldn’t take any more. Friends, how many of you have been there, or are there now? Who do you know in the same boat?

Hagar and Ishmael were finished, BUT… God heard the boy crying.

Of course he did! Ismael was named for this moment. Ishmael means God hears. And God heard.

As one writer put it:

• God hears, even when we are alone in the wilderness
• God hears, even when we don’t know what to say to God
• God hears, even when the tension of living remains unresolved
• God hears

(Dawn Chesser, ‘Preaching Notes’, General Board of Discipleship)

God opened her eyes
And God provides. Not that God brought a banquet, or even a tea trolley. ‘God (simply) opened her eyes.’ (v 19) Hagar was able to see what was hidden by her pain and her tears. She could see the well, and as she drank, she began to see the way forward.

But here’s the thing, they never left the wilderness. Terrible though it may seem, God didn’t rescue them from the wilderness. He helped them find a way to live in the wilderness, to live through the rejection and hate, to survive and prosper. Not what the world calls prospering. Not the ‘happy ever after’ that Hollywood pretends is our right. But peace and the presence of God and a promise still being fulfilled in Ishmael’s descendants today.

There are people around us, like Hagar, desperate to find a well that will see them through, that will sustain them, that will give them hope. There are people in our church communities; people in our neighbourhood; people at work and in our families. They are within touching distance of us, a phone call away.

Called to be a well
Our job isn’t to tell people where they are going wrong:
‘Well, you know, Hagar, if you hadn’t been so rude to Sarah, you wouldn’t be here today.’

No, our job isn’t to tell people where they are going wrong or even to tell them what to do. We are here to help them find a well. To be a well for people around us. To support, to sustain, to share the hope we have in Jesus.

Jesus warns us that the journey will be tough and thankless. It’s not that we are trying to die, though that might happen. We are not looking for abuse, though that might come our way. Because our hope is not that all will be bright and sunny.  But that God hears.

God hears
And so, our task begins when, like Hagar, we cry out to God. Because God hears you and me and the people around us as we cry to him in our own pain and for the pain of others. And we discover that his presence is worth far more than worldly wealth and peace.

Friends, cry out to God in your pain, in your fear, through your tears, and discover that God hears.

Cry out to God for those whose lives and livelihood have been devastated by the Covid-19 pandemic, so that they might discover that God hears.

Cry out to God for those who have been crushed by racism and neglect, who have been humiliated or ignored for too long. Cry to God for the women and children, victims of violence. Cry out to God, so that they, too, might discover the God who hears.

But friends, cry out to God, also, so that our ears might be unblocked, and we might become the well that people around us need, reminding us all that he who loves the sparrow loves us even more, and he invites us into relationship with him and with each other.

Amen

Let us pray…
(Link to the prayer here)

 

Being sheep in a Covid-19 world – A sermon for 3 May 2020

This sermon can also be found an the following video link:
Being sheep in a Covid-19 world – A sermon for 3 May

SCRIPTURE:  Psalm 23; Acts 2:42-47; 1 Peter 2:19-25; John 10:1-10

Lockdown
Five weeks of Covid-19 lockdown!

How has it been for you?

I remember, just before we went into lockdown for the initial three weeks, thinking, that’s a long time. What will we do for three weeks? And now five weeks have passed and (in South Africa) some of the doors are beginning to open.

How has it been for you?

People have spoken about the opportunity to reflect, to realign, to reorganise (or, for some of us, just to organise).
Many years ago, I was in hospital for four or five weeks with bilharzia. And I kept hearing about people who had been in similar or worse situations, and how they had used the time for deep reflection and prayer and had grown spiritually.

I felt so guilty. I didn’t want to reflect on anything other than how nauseous and miserable I felt. I didn’t feel the least bit spiritual.

How has the lockdown been for you?

For most of us, it’s about the money. Where will this month’s pay come from? Will my business survive? Will I still have a job?
Then there is the virus itself. Will we survive? Will our family survive? Will those in essential services be able to cope?

Relationships are especially difficult. Our lives are often so busy that we usually don’t spend much time together. Suddenly we are locked down, and we only have each other for company. And it’s not like when we are on holiday and all relaxed. There are all these new fears and worries that create tension or add to tensions that are already there.

The early church
In the middle of all this, we read about the early church in Acts 2.42–47.

Remember the disciples, too, had been locked down. As far as we know, they had been self-isolating in the Jerusalem upper room for the last 50 days. They had just started to emerge. There were a few jaunts here and there — to Galilee, for example, where Jesus met them for breakfast. But, in Jerusalem, we are told, they were behind locked doors for fear of the Jews.

Then, at Pentecost, they emerged like butterflies out of their cocoons. And what we read in Acts 2, sounds so idyllic:

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.
Everyone was filled with awe ….
All the believers were together ….
They gave to anyone who had need.
They met together in the temple.
They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts,
… enjoying the favour of all the people.
And (every day) the Lord added to their number ….

How does our lockdown compare with any of that?

Close? Not very? Way off?

As our lockdown has dragged on, people have begun to show more and more frustration and anger on social media. We are used to being in control. We like to decide what to do and how to run our lives.

We like to choose what we buy, when we buy and where we buy. We want to visit friends and neighbours. We want to take a meal to a someone who is sick.

We don’t want to drive down the road and worry about how many roadblocks there will be and whether we’ll be sent back (or worse, put in jail). We don’t like being told what to do.

Jesus as shepherd
But, in John 10, Jesus portrays himself as a shepherd. In verse 11, just following the passage we read, Jesus says, ‘I am the good shepherd’.

Now, the idea of Jesus as shepherd is a wonderful image of love, care and hope. But the problem with the image is that if Jesus is the shepherd, we are the sheep. And, although we think of lambs in warm and fuzzy terms, there are very few images of sheep that are flattering:

• Bumbling, ignorant, trusting;
• Vulnerable, docile, dependent;
• Bred for human use and consumption.

Even in our well-loved Psalm 23, the Psalmist is utterly dependent on God, the Shepherd.

And Peter tells us in our 1 Peter 2 passage that, when Jesus took our place on the cross, he ‘did not retaliate’. ‘Instead he entrusted himself to [depended on] him who judges justly.’

The Church in Acts
But in Acts 2 (in fact, in the whole of Acts) the disciples are nothing like sheep. Have they been set free? Does that mean we grow out of being sheep?

No, it’s because they saw themselves as sheep, utterly dependent on God, that they were able to do extraordinary things.

We often hear people talking about recreating the New Testament church. We try to reinvent the church on the basis of what the early church did. But the key to the early church is not what they did, but their dependence on God, which is summed up in the opening verse of our Acts passage:

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. (Acts 2:42)

Trying to recreate the NT church by copying their actions is the wrong approach. We are not called to do what they did, but to be as they were — utterly dependent on God.

What does that mean for us as we struggle to be the church and to live as Christians in a struggling world? I suggest we are given three invitations.

KNOW THE SHEPHERD
Our first invitation is to know the shepherd.

Knowing the shepherd is a critical step in our journey. It is almost impossible to trust someone you don’t know.

Jesus tells us in John 10 that the shepherd knows his sheep, he loves his sheep, he cares for his sheep, he calls them by name. It isn’t just a job for him, as it might be for a day labourer who is just helping out. For the shepherd, it’s a labour of love.

And so, these new disciples ‘devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.’ — activities that would enable them to get to know the Shepherd and experience his love for themselves.

Friends, you and I are loved.

Sink back into that love as you would into a soft pillow. Enjoy that love as you have enjoyed this respite from the relentless rush of everyday life.

Keep coming back to this. Pray often. Read the stories of Jesus in the Gospels. Talk to other Christians who have journeyed with this Shepherd and have known his love. Begin to discover that love for yourself. Grow in his love and get to know him better.

Relationships, not activities
Too often, we want to run on ahead and do things, and live a ‘proper’ Christian life. But our Christian faith is routed in a relationship rather than in activities. Being a Christian is about knowing that we are deeply loved. Knowing that Jesus poured out his love for us on the cross, and that God, in his mercy and grace, has opened the doors of the kingdom to you and to me.

That’s not the end of the journey, of course. As we experience this undeserved, extravagant love of God, we can’t help ourselves. It’s as Jesus described in the parables of the ‘Hidden treasure’ and the ‘Pearl of great price’, because we’ve discovered this treasure, we want to give everything of ourselves to the one who loves us. We want to live that Christian life.

TRUST THE SHEPHERD
And so, the second invitation is to trust the shepherd. Know the shepherd so that we can trust the shepherd.

As we experience God’s love for us, we begin to trust him more. And we trust him not only with our lives, but with our way of life as well, which may be much more difficult.

Jesus said, ‘If you want to follow me, take up your cross daily and follow me.’

Jesus wasn’t suggesting martyrdom. He didn’t say, ‘Die for me.’
He said die to yourself. Put yourself — your dreams, your plans, your desires, your rights — put it all on the cross every day and live for me.

Friends this is really difficult. As we have seen in this Covid-19 lockdown, we don’t like being dependent; we don’t like following other people’s rules.

But, when our legs, for example, aren’t able to do what they are supposed to do, we have to accept the fact that we need help, otherwise we are immobile. But when we learn to depend on our crutches, we are free to move around.

FDR
Franklin D Roosevelt served as Governor of New York for four years from 1928, and then as President of the United States for an unprecedented 12 years to the end of WW2. And all of this from his wheelchair. He had contracted a paralytic illness, at the age of 39, seven years before he became New York Governor.

He didn’t say, ‘This wheelchair is just a crutch. I don’t need this; I’m better than this. I’m going to stand up and run the country on my own two feet.’

That would have been foolish. He knew and accepted his dependence. He trusted those around him to do for him what he couldn’t do for himself, and that freed him to get on with what he could do — running the country and fighting a war.

As we get to know the Shepherd and begin to trust the Shepherd, we discover our true freedom. We are able to rise above our limitations, becoming far more than we could if we only trusted in ourselves.

And we are not alone in this. Jesus, the good shepherd, has walked this road before us, and he travels with us.

In our 1 Peter passage, Peter describes how, Jesus, who knew no sin, took on the role of sinner; in humility and in utter dependence on God, he took the insults hurled at him and allowed people to think he deserved them. Then Jesus took on the consequences of sin and died on the cross. And Peter says, ‘He entrusted himself to him who judges justly.’

This is our shepherd who leads us.

OBEY THE SHEPHERD
So, we are invited to know the shepherd.
We are invited to trust the shepherd.
And our third invitation as sheep in God’s pasture is to obey the shepherd.

Peter says in 1 Peter 2:25, ‘You were like sheep going astray, but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.’

We don’t stop being sheep, but instead of following our own way, we follow and obey the shepherd.

When we think about obedience we usually think about lists of rules and regulations. And the nice thing about a list of rules is that they are relatively easy to follow.

Of course, some lists are longer and more complicated than others. We thought the regulations for the Covid-19 lockdown were onerous. Now we know they were child’s play compared with the regulations for getting unlocked.

For Moses and the Israelites, things were a bit easier, it seems. There were only ten Commandments. Jesus made it even simpler for us to understand. He summarised it all into three commands:

Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength.
Love your neighbour as you love yourself.
Love one another as I have loved you.

Friends, it is ALL about love, which makes it easy to remember and even to understand. But love is much more demanding and much more costly than the longest list of regulations you will ever find.

Love never asks the question, ‘Have I done enough?’
Love never says, ‘I’ve ticked all the boxes. I’ve done what you asked me to do.’

Love asks, ‘How can I express my love to God, today?’
Love asks, ‘What can I do to demonstrate God’s love to this neighbour today, to my Christian sister or brother in this situation?”

Love doesn’t ask, ‘What should I do?’ as if there were a to-do list for every situation.
Love rather asks, as Phillip Yancy suggested, ‘What would love look like in this situation?’
‘What can I do differently, that would show more of God’s love to you?’

Friends, the lockdown is over; the invitations are out:
We are invited to get to know the shepherd who loves us
We are invited to trust the shepherd we can depend on
And we are invited to obey the shepherd and join him on a journey of love.

Will you come?

Let us pray …
Link to the prayer here