Sermon Sunday 22 August 2021

Sermon Sunday 22 August 2021

We’ve been reading through a very dense piece of the gospel of John. Like a symphony, the same ideas are recapitulated with variations, and new themes are introduced and integrated over and over. This is supposed to be the year of Mark, who writes in a direct, breathless style. So, of course, the year gets interrupted to inflict John’s obtuse, incomprehensible language on us, in case we get too relaxed.

Sermon 8 August 2021

Sermon 8 August 2021

I hate it when preachers begin sermons by saying ‘I take as my text today….’ It just seems so lazy and lacking in creativity.

So anyway, I take as my text today John chapter 6 verse 42:

They were saying, "Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, 'I have come down from heaven'?"

I find this line intensely comical. It reminds me of something from Monty Python. Like when King Arthur greets the peasants in the field:

Sermon 1 August 2021

Sermon 1 August 2021

Inside the city of Nablus in Palestine, there is a Greek Orthodox monastery. Inside the monastery there is a church dedicated to St Photine. If you don’t know who St Photine is, that’s because you are Western Christians. In the Eastern Christian tradition, Photine is the name given to the Samaritan woman that Jesus meets at a well in Sychar. The well is referred to as known as Jacob’s well, and it is mentioned in the gospel of John as being connected with Jacob, who gave the land and the well as a gift to his son Joseph (the one with the colourful coat).

Sermon 25 July 2021

Sermon 25 July 2021

In the second book of Kings, in what we call chapters 4 and 5, the prophet Elisha performs a series of amazing signs.

Elisha was the protégé, or apprentice, of Elijah. When Elijah rides up to heaven in a whirlwind, he leaves his coat with Elisha who goes to the edge of the Jordan river and dips it in. The river parts in front of him, so he can walk across the water.

At Jericho, there’s a dodgy spring with yucky water. Elisha chucks some salt in and it starts to flow with fresh water.

Sermon Sunday 11 July 2021

Sermon Sunday 11 July 2021

We’re going to go for a little stroll away from today’s story about King Herod murdering John the Baptist, but only so that we can wander back.

In Mark chapter 8, Mark’s Jesus is in the boat with his mates because they’re sick of arguing with the Pharisees. Jesus says to them ‘beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod’. The disciples, who are cast by Mark in the role of idiot sidekicks, say ‘oh, Jesus is grumpy because we’ve run out of bread’. Jesus cracks it.

Sermon 4 July 2021

Sermon 4 July 2021

We’re in the middle of a bitter winter and a global pandemic, and here we are gathered with a limit on our numbers wearing facemasks.

So it seems to me there’s no better time to talk about demons.

I thought I’d begin by sharing with you some of my experiences with demons over the years.

Announcements - Restrictions Easing

Following on from the Premier's announcements, here are the plans for the next two Sundays at St Cuthbert's Church, Darlington:

Sunday 4 July
9.00am
Said Eucharist (no singing, sermon included)
No Godly Play circle
No morning tea
Maximum attendance of 20 people
Face masks must be worn
To attend you MUST pre-register at: https://www.hillsanglicans.com/events/eucharist4july2021

NB: NO DARLINGTON CONCERT
Thank you to those who offered to provide catering, unfortunately it is no longer required.

6.30pm
Worship in the style of Taizé
Meditation, chant and readings by candlelight (you can sing along if you wish)
Maximum attendance of 20 people
Face masks must be worn
To attend you MUST pre-register at: https://www.hillsanglicans.com/events/taize4july2021

Sunday 11 July
9.00am
Said Eucharist (with some singing, similar to a 'normal' Sunday)
Godly Play circle for children (children are not required to wear masks)
No morning tea
Face masks must be worn
Maximum of 45 people in church
No pre-registration required

Sermon Sunday 6 June 2021

Sermon Sunday 6 June 2021

For some years now, we have been praying for the people of Myanmar. Firstly, and perhaps most urgently, we have prayed for justice for the Rohingya – a persecuted muslim minority. Secondly, we have prayed for all the people of Myanmar, who live under an oppressive military regime. The name of Aung San Suu Kyi is well known as a person who lived under house arrest for fifteen years and won the Nobel Peace Prize, but most of us (including me) don’t have a close connection to Myanmar, and it can be hard to keep up.

Sermon for Trinity Sunday

Sermon for Trinity Sunday

This week, I saw Priscilla Queen of the Desert, the musical. It was a local production, but staged in the enormous theatre at Crown Casino. Many of you will have seen the 1994 musical on which the musical is based, so you’ll remember the three main characters. Tick is still technically married and has an eight year old son. His wife now lives in Alice Springs and he’s never met Benji his son. Bernadette is an aging trans woman who was once part of Les Girls. And Felicia is a young, energetic up and coming performer, full of sass and naivete. The three of them appear in glamorous drag shows, and they travel on Priscilla (the bus) to Alice Springs with adventures along the way.

Sermon for Pentecost

Sermon for Pentecost

The feast of Shavuot in Jerusalem was a big event. Perhaps not quite as big as Passover had been fifty days earlier, nor as big as Sukkot would be in a few months time. But Shavuot was one of the big three. It was one of the occasions when Israelites (who were able) were required to travel to the Temple in Jerusalem. Perhaps Jesus had made the trip as a young man, just as he and the family do in Luke 2 for the feast of Passover. Like muslims today and their pilgrimage to Mecca (the hajj), not everyone could go every year, but many Jews would go as often as they could.

Sermon 9 May 2021

In my teens I was trained in a form of evangelism called Two Ways to Live. There was a whole package of materials – a workbook, posters, pamphlets to hand out, and we were encouraged to learn how to draw diagrams and learn bible verses to go with them. The idea was that, if someone asked how they could become a Christian, you would be ready to explain it to them. I didn’t know at the time that the package was designed by Philip Jensen, who went on to become Dean of the Anglican Cathedral in Sydney, nor that it presented a particular view of the Christian faith grounded in the work of Swiss Reformer John Calvin. It was presented as though it was an uncontroversial, universally accepted narrative to explain faith in Jesus Christ.

 It begins by explaining that God made the world and is in charge of the world. Human beings have rejected God’s authority, and, as such, deserve punishment. God, however, has provided us with an alternative. If we believe and accept that Jesus received the punishment on our behalf, and acknowledge that God is truly the boss of the world, then we don’t have to experience death and divine punishment, and instead we can live now and in the next life in relationship with God.

You might recognise this account of the Christian faith. It was made popular by Billy Graham, for example, and it’s the kind of message that has been preached at evangelistic rallies and youth events for decades. It’s an understanding of God and salvation called ‘penal substitutionary atonement’ and it is currently the most dominant narrative of the Christian faith in the world. I’m not here today to critique penal substitutionary atonement in its entirety . I’m talking to you because I want specifically for us to consider where this narrative, where this explanation of ‘good news’ begins. It starts with two things – Creation and Fall. God made the world, and it was good. Humanity have rejected God’s authority, and are, as a result, bad. These are really important theological points. They come up again and again in our scriptures and our liturgy. Creation and Fall are absolutely concepts that we need to understand.

But if someone says to me ‘How can I become a Christian?’ or ‘what does it mean to become a Christian?’ or even something more vague ‘Why do you see the world differently to me?’ or ‘Why do you keep going to that weird church?’ –wouldn’t I start first and foremost by talking about Jesus? Wouldn’t I talk about Jesus’ character and stories? Wouldn’t I talk about his disgusting death and remarkable return to life? Wouldn’t I talk about the way he is present today – in the poor, in the church and in the sacraments? And wouldn’t I talk about how I am utterly intoxicated by the character of Jesus, how he inspires me, he empowers me, he sustains me – how Jesus walks alongside me, challenges me, surprises me? Why would I start with a series of intellectual dot points about Creation and Fall, instead of with an actual flesh and blood person who is humanity’s gateway to divine?

In my experience, once a person is gripped by Jesus – once they are drawn into his life, they ‘get’ sin very quickly. ‘Ooooh!’ they say ‘this is what full humanity is meant to be, and I see how I have been falling short’. And they get Creation without any trouble at all ‘Oooooh! If Jesus is like a window that shows us God, it is blindingly evident that God made and loves the world’. Even a complex concept like the atonement doesn’t need a huge amount of explanation – because the Jesus-intoxicated person has already experienced how the barrier between God and the world is bridged by Jesus. Even the doctrine of the Trinity doesn’t need some lengthy, verbose dissertation. It is the lived experience rather than the learned dogma.

I guess what I’m saying is this: the big theological and doctrinal ideas are absolutely important. But the starting point is the person of Jesus. It’s as though he is the hub, and all these other important points about the bible and soteriology and eschatology and prayer and mission, emanate from the one centre. We don’t need to start somewhere over here by talking about creation and sin, nor in some other place talking about the Enneagram or social justice – we begin by talking about Jesus, the person, who is the embodiment of a personal God who is overflowing with love for people like us.

As we’ve been reading through 1 John, this circular teaching document from a character who calls himself The Elder, we’ve seen that the community is divided. There seems to be a group who left because they believe that Jesus was born of water only, not water and blood. Let me explain. They seemed to believe that Jesus was not actually human, but only looked that way. He was kind of dressed up in a human body (like the Greek and Roman gods were sometimes) but he didn’t actually suffer and die like an ordinary human would. 

Now, I’m going to let you in on something here – lots of people think that today, and throughout history. It’s a heresy called Docetism, but there are plenty of people who, for all practical purposes, believe and teach that Jesus wasn’t really a human being, but was a kind of supernatural ghosty guru who just looked like a human being. They imagine that Jesus could read minds and teleport and that Jesus had foreknowledge of all the Pilate and Herod and getting murdered thing - and in fact planned for it to happen that way. 

The trouble with this heresy - despite being initially attractive and despite it providing neat answers to some questions – is that Jesus is not attractive. If Jesus is angel superhero, then why is anything he said or did remarkable? And if he didn’t actually suffer or die, but only appeared to, why would that mean anything or make a difference to my life?

The fully human, fully divine Jesus is a paradox, sure, but the historical person whom we meet in the scriptures and the still-living person we meet in the most unexpected of places – that’s the one who actually makes people change their lives, give up the toxic habits and selfish behaviours, that’s the one who causes people to sacrifice and self-empty and let the new life in. It is the living Jesus Christ who transforms lives and communities, both in first century Palestine and Syria, and in the 21st Century in the Shire of Mundaring.

The Elder, writing to a new church, is trying (in his wordy and convoluted way) to keep their focus on Jesus Christ who was both fully human and fully God. We know, he will say, that the whole world lies under the power of the evil one. But God gave us eternal life. This eternal life is not about living forever like one of the immortals. It is a quality of life, a life lived in deep connection with God. To live this life means to be love others sacrificially and generously now and to know that love more fully in the world to come.

Christ is Risen, Alleluia, Alleluia!