Seeking the seekers

Epiphany Sermon

Ephesians  1:3-4 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places,just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love.  
Matthew 2:1 In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, ‘Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.’ 

How do people find Christ today?

It’s something that we should seriously consider now that believers who practice their faith are in something of a minority in the UK today.

If so few of us are in church week by week, that means outside the Church are many who might be seeking, for truth, for love, for meaning, for God perhaps. How will they hear the Good News in a way that means something to them?

It makes sharing our faith with those who don’t know Christ much more of an issue.

How well equipped are we to share the Good News of Christ with our friends and neighbours who might not know him?

The reason our thoughts turn to those outside the faith today is because it’s Epiphany – the revelation of God’s glory to the Gentiles – i.e. those who were outside the Jewish faith.

The Magi, we are told, came from ‘The East’.

They were not part of God’s chosen people; nevertheless they were seeking, and they were spiritually open.

East of Jerusalem would probably be modern day Iraq or Iran, formerly known as Persia.

How did these Magi know that the star they had seen indicated a Messiah, a King?

If we think about the Old Testament, we recall that God’s people were exiled to Babylon – you’ll be familiar with the prophet Daniel, who along with his three friends, Shadrak, Meshak and Abednego, served under the Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar (he of the enormous gold statue, the fiery furnace and the subsequent incongruous conversion to the Living God).

It’s thought that because of the exiled Jews in Babylon, the Hebrew Scriptures were still available, and that the wise men who’d spotted this new star had somehow identified it with the coming of the Messiah, foretold in the those Scriptures (“I see Him, but not now; I behold Him, but not near; a Star shall come out of Jacob; a Sceptre shall rise out of Israel” (Numbers 24:17). 

So these outsiders, these Gentiles seeking a Jewish King, had decided to set out and try and find the king.

In their search, their first move was to study the Hebrew Scriptures and study the sky.

So how are people carrying out their spiritual searching today?

Possible not by those means, but there are many others...

By and large they’re probably not searching in the Churches, however, which poses a challenge to us.

As you look around, observe people in this village, their habits, their hopes and fears; what form does their spiritual search take?

Who are the people you are praying for, asking God to give you a chance to share the Good News?

Here are some observations I have made about those who for whatever reason do not come to Church:

Older generations still sometimes maintain a nominal association with the Church, though they only attend infrequently, and some return to it in times of need, or when they are nearing death.

They still have a faith but it may have ossified, or got stuck at a school child phase, or there’s some sadness that holds them back from a God they once believed in.

Largely speaking those in the younger generation (50 years old and below) have concluded the Church is not the place to seek for spiritual food.

This is a group of largely un-churched people – even in 2004 this group was identified in The Mission Shaped Church Report as upwards of 40% of the UK population - we might have brief daily contact with someone from this group, or know them from neighbourly interaction.

How can we be part of their search for spiritual food?

• Open our eyes – ask God to give you spiritual insight to see who is seeking
• Pray! Pray for neighbours We need a locality based prayer scheme – would like someone to take this on – a road from the parish prayed for every week in church.
• Hunger for God yourself: A spiritually seeking person is alive and vibrant. They speak about faith in a natural convincing way because they’re living it day by day. Sooner or later people will want to know what makes us tick, but we have to be living the life of the Spirit first! 
• Think of yourself as a witness to Jesus: If you’re not sure of what God has done for you already, read that Ephesians reading and see yourself in that list of blessings!

The Wise Men were on a spiritual quest – they had a starting point; the Messianic references form a dim and distant past – a star in the East.

Their journey was far from straightforward.

They assumed that Herod would know about the new king of the Jews.

They were taken in by his pretence at wanting to know too.

They needed divine intervention – they were warned in a dream not to return to Herod.

Do we believe our un-churched neighbours could receive divine intervention? They might if we pray for them!

God is not above sending dreams to unbelievers – Pharaoh in the Joseph story; King Xerxes in the Esther story (he’d failed to reward Mordecai, God's dream to him led to justice for the threatened Jewish).

Once someone’s on a search, they can be very open to spiritual happenings.

I have heard too many stories from the relatives of those near death to doubt it.

We must resist the assumption that everyone in church has arrived and all those outside are 'outside'.

God is calling us all to prayer and to hunger after him for ourselves and on behalf of others.

You are only here today (and I am only here today) because someone shared the Good News with you…

One of the most encouraging things we can do is share our own stories of coming to faith – and to develop a culture of doing this. 

Do you know the faith stories of the people in the Church family? How has God been real to you; could you talk to someone outside the Church about it?

We end with one such story of seeking:

From https://www.churchofengland.org/our-faith/faith-stories-christianity-in-everyday-lives.aspx

How one text changed a woman's life.

'A text message from the vicar on behalf of the whole church was the start of a faith journey for Jane Goddard which turned her life around. The text simply said that everyone was praying.

The prayers were for the whole family (who had recently been victims of identity theft) but especially for Jane and Steve's young son Christopher who was seriously ill in hospital. To make matters worse Steve had contracted pneumonia during this stressful period.

"At the time, I wasn't a particularly religious person," said Jane. "Steve and I both believed in God, though he wasn't a big presence in our lives. In my job as a carer, I had regularly accompanied one particular client to church every Sunday - a young man with learning difficulties. Although, I really enjoyed going to St James Church in East Cowes, I was mainly there because it was my job."

The text actually came from the vicar of St James, the Rev Jonathan Hall.

"I know you shouldn't bargain with God but there and then I made a vow to him that if Christopher recovered, I would worship him with all my heart and soul in future. I also pledged to devote myself to making life better for others - to use my skills and talents to help as many people as I could."

When Christopher was discharged from hospital several weeks later Jane immediately signed up for an Alpha course and her faith began to mature. Within a matter of months a new business idea took off and Community Spirited was launched in August 2007 - an organisation that offers caring services to enhance quality of life for vulnerable and lonely people.

Three years on, Christopher is now healthy and thriving. And so is Community Spirited.

Spurred by her Christian faith and promise to God, Jane is determined to run Community Spirited so that she can make a living for her family, pay her staff well, and ensure that all clients are shown genuine respect, love and caring.’

My hope for 2015 is that we’ll be a seeking church – just like the wise men, we’ll set out and not be distracted till we encounter Christ afresh, and we’ll simultaneously keep an eye out for the seekers in this village, and in our wider networks; and we’ll be asking God to empower us to share our own stories and invite others to come and worship him too.

Amen.

Midwinter Christingle

Fingers wet from the spilt juice of oranges, and encrusted with gummie bear sugar, I return from the annual Christingle making morning, thinking about sweetness and sharpness, light and dark and the mixed up sentiments of Christmas. 

The front page of the newspaper did for me this morning; somebody's beautiful daughter and her grandmother - one of those photos you proudly display at home on the mantlepiece, never dreaming it'll be seen by thousands - illustrate the news that 6 people died in a freak pedestrian accident as a Glasgow bin lorry went out of control the week before Christmas.

For Ministers there's always a heightened awareness of the piercing sorrow of Christmas, the one Mary, and all mothers, know - the bringing to birth of both the greatest gift and the greatest potential for personal sadness. There's always that pre Christmas phone call from the Undertaker that is particularly dreaded. I came straight from a funeral visit to lead an enormous Christingle service one year and it was one of the hardest things. 

That's why this afternoon in church, the Christingle light will be brightest when the lights go out. It's in the darkness that the light is seen most fully. Because, like the magi's offering to the child who embodies 'the hopes and fears of all the years', midwinter Christmas is always both dark and bright: 

Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume
Breathes a life of gathering gloom;
Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying,
Sealed in a stone cold tomb.

Glorious now, behold him arise,
King and God and sacrifice.
Heaven sings, Alleluia!
Alleluia! the earth replies.

(from We Three Kings).

Unwrapping Christ

Epiphany Sunday, 2014.

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, ‘Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.’ 

A large part of Christmas is about presents and the myriad ways there are of asking for, planning, listing, ordering, choosing, buying, disguising, wrapping, posting, delivering and opening presents, for ourselves and for our loved ones.
I wonder if the way we 'do' Christmas presents says something about our personalities.
Do you buy last minute, or plan months in advance?
A great refrain in our household is 'why don't we buy all the presents in October?' but to date this idea has never come off.
And every year in the January sales I toy with the idea of getting all my presents half price...
Do you hand make your wrapping paper? (we actually have someone in the extended family who does this...)
Do you wrap each present with a bow?
Or do you find some paper from last year, smooth it out and scribble a note on in biro?
Do you like surprises?
Do you prefer lists?
Do you prefer to buy the things you want yourself and ask someone for the money?
The permutations are endless.

I had quite a busy run up to Christmas, what with family preparations and services...I don't want to alarm anybody but after Christmas Day, when I was on my week's holiday, I sat down and read a novel by Sue Townsend called The Woman who went to bed for a year.
In it, Eva Beaver, 50 year old wife of an emotionally incapable astronomer called Brian, decides to retreat to her bed in order to withdraw from the world and take stock of her rather sad and directionless life.
She goes to bed on September 19th and is still there as Christmas approaches, much to the horror of her family.
About three weeks before Christmas she sits her husband down to give him instructions on how to 'do' Christmas without her.

The resulting page of terribly complicated instructions (which completely defeat Brian) about ordering things, picking up things, buying things and running out of things really strikes a chord and is enough to make you weep at the complexity we have introduced to the season of gift giving
(read section bottom of page 184, to top of 186).

And so we come to Epiphany Sunday.
I always find myself running back to the commentaries and dictionaries for this Sunday.
Epiphany is one of those words which flits in and out of everyday language - a revelation, a sudden realisation about something or someone...it means revealing or manifestation.

We were reminded through Advent that the mystery of the ages, God in us, was somewhat hidden through the Old Testament and even in the New.
We recalled patriarchs, prophets, John the Baptist and Mary, all of whom pointed to the Messiah, those pointers getting stronger as we progressed.
Our Epistle today tells us that there is a 'plan for the fullness of time'; a plan to 'gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth' (Ephesians 1:10).
Something once hidden has been revealed.
So today, as we come into Epiphany, the theological question we are faced with is this:

What is revealed and how are we to respond?

Like present giving at Christmas...we ask, what have we be given, and how should we respond?
That's why our liturgy, our observing of the liturgical year, informs our minds as well as our hearts.
We understand that we've been given something at Christmas, a baby born as one of us.
But now we're in Epiphany, we ask ourselves, what does this gift reveal and how should we respond?

There are two thoughts for us to take away: 

1. WORSHIPPING CHRIST.
We're told that the purpose of the journey of the Magi to the Christ child was to pay him homage (or 'home-age' as many a primary school child has mistakenly pronounced).
This phrase means, of course, to worship, but it implies physical prostration, a complete giving, not just of gifts, but of oneself.

The Magi have seen the star of the Messiah and it indicates this being is worthy of worship.
Since only God is worthy of worship we can safely assume that these strangers from the East realised from the outset that the one toward whom they were journeying was divine.
Very God from very God, begotten, not created.
Their journey is therefore not just physical - they are changed by their encounter.
They came into the place where the young child lay and prostrated themselves before giving their gifts.
They had sought the Messiah in the halls of power and prestige but were re-directed to a humble dwelling where lay God in the flesh.
This is perhaps the first thing to take away this Epiphany Sunday. 
We are made for worship and real worship, real encounter with the divine, changes us.
That is why we put all our efforts into preparing to worship when we gather - the quality of what we do here on a Sunday matters - it is a place of encounter.
It is about encountering the living God, through the building, through the music, through prayer, the Word and the sacrament, and being changed.
If not changed, it is perhaps not worship.
We say in our mission statement that we seek to be a worshipping family, and that is our core purpose, along with a second thing to take away today - namely, that this gift is for sharing.


2. SHARING CHRIST.
The first Sunday of Epiphany is dedicated to the thought that this gift has been revealed to the Gentiles.

In other words, to strangers.
The Magi were from the East, they were not Jews, they didn't share the same religious heritage, but the God of all nations called them through their study of the stars and they set out to find the King.
And that is what we once were - outsiders.
A great drawback of the privatisation of faith today is that people assume that God is for people who go to church and everyone else is fine without him.
This is not the message of Epiphany. Or of Christmas. Or of Easter, for that matter (or of Pentecost).
Christ is a gift for all mankind.
He is for sharing.
So if Christ is a gift for all mankind, not just people inside churches, how should we respond?
Who are the people whom God is calling who are not yet part of our fellowship?
'While Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea, there came wise men from the East...'
'While the Christians in Whitchurch were worshipping in St Mary's....' what? What is going on out there in our community spiritually?
Someone has defined mission as finding out what God is doing and joining in.
That sounds like a good resolution to make for 2014.
Find out where God is in our community and join in!
The gospel today begins and ends with strangers.
We need to think about that as we go into 2014 wishing to be faithful to our calling to be bearers of the Good News.
The Messiah's arriving has meaning for all people.

We have asked on this Epiphany Sunday, What is revealed and how should we respond?

We have seen that what is revealed is none other than the Messiah, the saviour of all mankind.
Our response is, simply, to worship, and to share him.

May God give us the desire, the opportunity and the grace to worship and share him as this new year begins.

Epiphanies about Epiphany.

Some seasons of the church are a bit more opaque than others. It's taken me a long time to 'get' Epiphany and I'm still working on it.

19 years ago tomorrow, at Epiphany (6 January 1994), I was in hospital having just given birth to my first born son two days previously. A special somebody visited and brought me a huge box of Lindt chocolates, possibly the best chocolates money can buy. I won't forget that gift in a hurry, and the significance of the journey that person had made to greet our tiny son for the first time.

Since the Epiphany chocolates my understanding of Epiphany has grown into considering the uniqueness of Jesus as revealed through the gifts of the Magi. Gold for kingship, frankincense for divinity and myrrh for burial. I have attempted to procure these things for school assemblies and bought attractive coloured boxes to represent them when it proved too difficult.

When I began to preach regularly I looked into the etymology of the word so I could get my head around it further. 'Epiphany' is from epi=forth and 'phan'=to show: to show forth. At Epiphany we see the mystery of God shown forth through Christ.

Further developments of an Epiphanic nature have seen me reflecting on funerals during this Epiphany: already one down and one to go. Two funerals of very different people, whose stories I tried to see in the light of Epiphany-tide. In one, God had clearly gifted someone and throughout their long life they had given those gifts back to the community in many positive ways. In the other, it was clear that the precious gift of love within marriage brings with it a terrible risk of loss. We can only give our grief back to God, as a gift in return.

Today I have been pondering the significance of Epiphany for the Gentiles, which perhaps brings me finally to the full meaning of Epiphany. This is why the Magi are involved - the ultimate representation of strange and foreign travellers coming before the Jewish Messiah. Christ is for all. How did their journey affect them? And how is my story also to be seen in the light of Epiphany? 

TS Eliot's Journey of the Magi (1927) was the poet's attempt to articulate his own story of conversion, which felt like a birth, but also a death. He had an unhappy first marriage and would go and sit in churches to admire their beauty. In later years his visits began to bring him peace and something akin to spiritual refreshment. In 1926, on a visit to Rome, he knelt before Michelangelo's 'Pieta'
as if acknowledging a higher authority. It was a turning point. His biographer, Peter Ackroyd writes, 'He was aware of what he called 'the void' in all human human affairs - the disorder, meaninglessness and futility which he found in his own experience; it was inexplicable intellectually...and could only be understood or endured by means of a larger faith' (1998, p. 160). Eliot's faith grew and he was baptised and confirmed in the Anglo-Catholic church a year later.

Journey of the Magi is anything but a Christmas card cutesy camel trot into Bethlehem. It tells of a hard journey, physically ('A cold coming we had of it') and spiritually. Those strange travellers from the East had expected a normal birth scene - cuddles and smiles and innocence; but what they experienced in the presence of the Christ child felt like a death ('this birth was/ Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death'). They return to their palaces changed ('no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation/With an alien people clutching their gods'). It's as if Eliot is saying that converting to Christ had changed everything for him.

Epiphany: babies; gifts; birth; death; journeys, stories; realization; change. As a season, its meaning unfolds like a gift being slowly unwrapped, savoured and lived.

Twelfth Night

It's got to be my favourite Shakespeare play - mistaken identity, gender confusion, shipwreck, love, mirth, madness, and ultimately, melancholy ('With a hey ho, the wind and the rain...') All you ever want from a real human life. The traditional merry-making on Twelfth Night collides richly with the Christian tradition of Epiphany - the evening of 5 Jan being the 12th night after Christmas Day and the eve of the Feast of the Epiphany (6 Jan) when Christians ponder the significance of the visit of 'Magi from the East' to the Christ child. The didn't need Satnav - being astrologers they knew how to plot a course by the stars. After the dead end that was King Herod, the king they eventually found became the unlikely recipient of their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. The Magi are not the domesticated crown-wearing 'kings' of Christmas cards, but strange Gentiles, outside of the traditionally Jewish people of God. They are mysterious, mystical even; their gifts to the newborn are costly, rare and, frankly, odd (imagine presenting your new godchild at her baptism with the gift of a shroud - that's the kind of thing myrrh, a burial ointment, suggests.) The '3 wise men' are a good reminder of the strangeness of faith, the endlessly wide embrace of the gospel and the sheer otherness of the divine. 
We're taking down the decorations tonight; I used to be glad to clear away the mess, now it just makes me sad, it feels so much like an ending. Or is it a beginning? In the visit of the Magi, a snapshot of the whole life, death and resurrection of the Messiah King, the one without beginning or end, is presented for us to feast on in wonder. Happy Twelfth Night.