Sermon on Lent 1

In our sacred scripture, we find lots of symbolic imagery and symbolic numbers.  In our readings today we have both:  We can see the symbolic use of desert imagery, and the use of the number 40.

When we look at the number 40 we find it appears frequently in the bible. The rain of Noah’s flood lasted forty days and nights. Moses fasted for forty days and nights before receiving the Law. The Israelites wandered in the desert for forty years after fleeing the Egyptians. The manna rained down on the Israelites for forty years. The Prophet Elijah walked forty days and nights to reach the Mountain of God, Horeb. Jesus fasted for forty days and nights to prepare for His public ministry. Jesus ascended into heaven forty days after his glorious Resurrection from the dead.

So, its fair to say that the number 40 has significant meaning, but why?

If we look at each of these events, the events in which the number 40 plays a role, we can see common themes arise.  Generally, the number is used when the characters involved are facing a period of trial, temptation or significant change.

This number seems to point towards a theology of  transformation.

In each of the events I listed, the outcome of the event is invariably change.  Be it new life or growth, a time of great transition or purification, or a time of preparation, each of these events points us to the ideas we should be considering this Lent.

When we come to the end of our Lenten fast, we should have been through a transformative process.  We should have grown as Christians, and we should be fully prepared for what is to come, the new life given freely to us following the death and resurrection of Our Lord.

Many of these 40 day events occur in the wilderness, in places of trouble and hardship.  If you ever visit the Holy Land and go to Jerusalem, you will see that it is marked out by the Kidron Valley.  Holy Land and

 This is an important geographical feature of the land, and the Old City of Jerusalem was built just above it.  The walls of the city are a few hundred metres above it, and the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus was arrested, sits in it.  The Kidron Valley is a riverbed.  Water almost certainly flowed through it in ancient times, and it therefore very lush and green, full of life.  The Mount of olives is opposite the Old City on the other side of the valley.  These were places of growth and life.  But when you get to the top of the Mount of Olives and carry on down the other side, you very quickly notice a different kind of landscape.

It is hard for westerners to understand that a place so barren and void of life can co-exist so closely to a lush, green oasis.  But it does.  And even to this day, when you go up the Mount of Olives and descend down the other side through Bethany to the edge of the Jerusalem boundary, you are hit by dry desert dust, and  an environment so inhospitable, it makes a summers day in Queensland seem tame!

So why the number 40?

No one scholar can really answer this.  But there is much use of logical deduction.  In the ancient world, 40 was a good life expectancy.  If you reached this momentous number in years, you were considered old.  Age was associated with weakness, ill health, decline and inevitable death.  So it’s not really surprising that 40 is a number which was considered bad news by the people of the ancient world.

Remember that our scriptures were written for a particular people at a particular time, and the people of the time would have understood what 40 meant!

But the scriptures in both the old and new testaments suggest that we should see this in a different way.  Instead of the dread and fear associated with the onset of old age and ill health, we should embrace the opportunity to reflect, repent and prepare for what is to come.

This theme is clear; we have nothing to be afraid of, for we have eternal life, which is freely given to us through Jesus Christ.

Part of being a person of faith is that we don’t take this for granted.  Often, I see young evangelical Christinas sporting T-shirts with big emblems on them that say things like “saved” or “Washed in the blood.”  There is a simple truth in this – we are saved through the death of Our Lord.

But the question I always ask myself is, “how am I living up to this?”  This amazing gift, which came with so much love and pain, is not something I want to put on a t-shirt and casually wear on a summers day.  It’s not something I want to take of and put in a washing machine. This amazing reality is something I want to wear inside my very soul.  I hope and pray I wear it with courage, with humility and with the grace God gives me.

So how do you wear your faith?  Do you wear in it in fear of what is to come – age, decay and death?  Do you wear it loudly, in bright pink colours which scream out to the world that Jesus loves you?

Or do you wear it humbly, yet boldly?  Do you proclaim you faith and your Gospel through your actions towards one another?  Do you turn the other cheek when slighted, and do you lead with true righteousness?

These are big questions to consider, and this is the time, right now in Lent, when we are given space to consider, reflect and prepare our answers.  Because one day we will all be called to account for the way we claim Christ, and I hope and pray that I live up to that calling.

Lent is a time to prepare yourself, and there are lots of ways you can do that.  At the very least, you should be taking something on that is out of your normal routine.  You should be making a commitment to God and to yourself to put your faith first, to give it an annual service, and ensure you are fit and ready for what is to come next.

However you keep your Lenten fast, consider the many things that the church does to help you answer some of these challenging questions.  And as a minimum, pray more, repent of your sins, and study God’s Holy Word.

Amen

Sermon on The Presentation of the Lord

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit

May 23rd 1979.  It was my 6th birthday and it was a day long awaited.  I woke early and burst into my parents room, shaking my father and begging him to get up.  For some months, in a room in our rather forbidding Victorian house, my father had been secreting himself in a large spare bedroom, and working behind a locked door.  Whenever I asked what he was doing I was told rather sternly that it was a surprise and that I would find out on my birthday.   

I don’t know about you, but one of my abiding memories of childhood is really, really wanting everything right now!  Of course, Christmas and Birthdays are good examples of this but actually I realise now that I spent most of my childhood wishing and waiting and wanting…. Stuff!

In our Gospel reading today we meet Simeon.  Simeon is an old man. He is waiting for something, he really, really wants it and it has been promised to him.  We don’t actually know how long Simeon has been waiting but it feels like a long time.  Imagine him sitting patiently outside the temple, an old man seemingly watching the world go by amid the hustle and bustle of city life.  And then, across the street, between the people going about their business and children running and playing he sees a family approaching and he knows.  His wait is nearly over and the anticipation builds rapidly in him.  Simeon is going to meet the Messiah, just as the Holy Spirit promised he would before he died. With long-awaited joy he takes the infant Jesus into his arms and knows him to be the one he has been waiting for.

How did Simeon know this was the Messiah?  After all, he must have seen lots of babies, 40 days old, tiny and wrinkly, carried into the temple by insignificant but devout mothers and fathers. And was he even looking for the Messiah in a baby? Surely he was imagining something a little more exciting – a great teacher or a charismatic rebel.

Have you ever considered how many of God’s promises we don’t see fulfilled simply because we aren’t paying attention or because we don’t have eyes and hearts, like Simeon’s,  prepared to see God at work in unexpected places?

Or maybe we don’t see it because we are more comfortable in the waiting than in uncertainty of what comes after?

There is an old tradition that today, which as well as being called the Presentation of the Lord is known as Candlemas, is the day that really ends the Christmas season. Today is the day when everyone’s nativity scene should be taken down. Because today is usually about half-way between Christmas and Good Friday – half-way between Jesus’ birth and Jesus’ death. So today is kind of a pivot point for the year – the day when we turn from cradle to cross; birth to death.

Simeon’s story contains this pivot.

Holding the infant Messiah, Simeon knows his wait is over, God’s promise to him has been fulfilled. He praises God and sings of light and glory. And then Simeon turns to Mary and the tone changes:

“This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed, so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed – and a sword will pierce your own soul too.”

I wonder if there wasn’t a part of Simeon that would have preferred to just keep waiting – to hold on to the sense of hopeful anticipation rather than the perhaps more complicated emotions after the arrival of the Messiah. 

But following Jesus is not just about Christmas – not just light and joy and celebration. Today, we let Simeon turn us in the direction of the cross, remembering that following Jesus is also about sacrifice and faithfulness in the face of suffering.

Perhaps this is why Candlemas is the day on which candles are traditionally blessed, marked as signs of the light of Christ in the world – we know we still have need of such signs to get us through the darkness ahead.

Back home in the UK where I am from, Candlemas is also roughly half-way between the winter solstice and the spring equinox – it’s the point at which we begin to turn from the cold and dark of winter towards the promise of spring.  Of course, here in Australia we are looking forward to cooler weather.  Today is the day when there is enough of a possibility that we can begin to anticipate autumn.  Each day I rise early to say morning prayer.  At the moment, I say morning prayer as early as possible to avoid the searing heat, but soon mornings will be much, much cooler.

So, on this seasonal pivot day, we turn not simply from cradle to cross but from cradle through cross to the empty tomb, already visible, albeit dimly through the darkness still to come. Following Jesus is not just about Christmas; not just about Good Friday. Following Jesus is also about the hope and freedom of Easter.

Simeon’s song begins with a declaration of the end of his work, perhaps even his life: “Lord, now let your servant go in peace”. His task has been fulfilled; he has born  witness to the arrival of the infant Messiah, seen the salvation of the world. Simeon’s season is over, a new season has begun.

How did Simeon feel when he woke up the day after meeting Jesus and seeing the truth of what his future would hold? Perhaps he woke up thinking, ‘today might be the day!”, before he remembered that yesterday had been the day and that he would have to find something else to do today.

May 23rd 1979.  It was my 6th birthday and it was a day long awaited.  It was the day when my father presented me with a Hornby Intercity 125 model train and unlocked the door to the room in which he had been working for months.  A stunning diorama awaited me with a train track running through hills, valleys and towns.  The detail was amazing, hours of painstaking work had been put in to the project.  But I was too young to appreciate this, I just wasn’t ready, all I wanted to do was play “flying trains.”   And so it was that, as a six year old, I learnt a lot about waiting, frustration, anticipation, and a little bit about what it means to feel deflated.  I still have my train track, and now I grateful to God that I have a son who I shared  it with; it’s part of our journey, although maybe he won’t fully understand it until he has his own children to share it with.

So let us light a candle, in the quiet of this winter morning, and pray with Simeon, that the light of the world will break through the darkness and reveal to us the continuation of God’s promise. Let that be our prayer, as we journey through the seasons of the year and of our lives.

Amen

Pastoral Reflection

Dear Friends,

As I write I am at my desk on Christmas Eve, busily preparing for the next 24 hours and the beautiful liturgy we will share together as we herald in Christmas and the arrival of the new-born child that changed the world forever.

Christmas is a time when we focus on many things that really matter; the love between families and friends, the joy of being in each other’s company, and the need to share our common experiences.  I am sure many of us will take the time to exchange carefully considered gifts and enjoy some merry-making at parties and social event.

The story of Christmas is somewhat overlooked by our modern world.  Amidst the trimmings and fripperies, the turkey and wine (or prawns!) we forget that Christmas is really about a story of God revealing himself to the people of the world in a unique and unpredictable way. 

When God came down at Christmas, he came into a world in need of a visible sign of his love.  People were looking for change, for a new way of being with God that challenged the old stereotypes and prejudices.  And God delivered!

Jesus comes to us in the most humble and simple of ways.  Our King was born into poverty; his royal robes were swaddling clothes, and his throne was a manger.  He was not born in a hospital, with doctors and nurses providing for any eventuality.  His arrival is meant to challenge us and make us question our lives and the immense privilege so many of us benefit from.

Of course, for some, Christmas is an inherently difficult time.  As the western world enters into a frenzy of spending and indulgence, we often forget that there are many who don’t celebrate Christmas at all.  For people of other faiths, or for people of no faith, the message of Christmas is often completely lost and becomes a story of excess and indulgence.  Perhaps we could all do to spend some time reflecting on the Christian call to “go therefore and make disciples of all nations” and ask ourselves why would anyone come to follow a faith which, on the face of it, has become so hi-jacked by consumerism?

And then, of course, there is the endless in-fighting so often picked up by the media.  It is a truth, I believe, that those of us at the very heart of the faith so often forget to consider how we are communicating the most basic message of it.  Instead, we focus on the “issues” of our churchmanship, our beliefs about sin and our constant desire to be the one true church, in a world which looks on wryly and seems to think we are all just a little deranged!

This year has been a difficult one for Anglicans.  Once again, the church is blighted by its failings, and we have witnessed, and are continuing to witness the fall from grace of it’s international leadership.  In the UK, the church is in turmoil, and the worldwide Anglican Communion is closely watching what will happen next.  I read that there will be greater representation from the Anglican Communion as the church goes about choosing a new titular head, the Archbishop of Canterbury.  I think this is a good thing, and hope and pray that the appointment process will be careful, prayerful and humble.  I do not envy the next post-holder, and we should all be praying for the right person to come forward and answer God’s unique and wonderful call.

As I reflect on my own experiences this year, I am resolved to give thanks to God for the many blessings I have been granted.  I am blessed by a wonderful family who provide me such comfort and support.  I have managed to spend some time with my daughter in the UK when I visited her, and here in Australia when she came for a whole month!  My son has completed his schooling and will shortly begin university here in Brisbane studying music.  I am so proud of them both! 

I also celebrated my 25th wedding anniversary in August.  Although we couldn’t be together on the day itself (as my wife was on the other side of the world!) we spoke to each other, and we shared the day on social media with friends and family.  I am not a big fan of social media, but on this occasion, I was very grateful for it!    25 years is a long time, yet it has gone quickly.  I know this is because, despite the challenges of married life we have faced, we were meant to be together, and I give thanks for this to God. 

2024 has also been a hard year for me personally as I lost my father in September.  When someone as old him (94) dies, there is an expectation of death and people will often say “he had a good innings,” or words to that effect.  But the reality is that death is brutal to the human condition.  Those of us who are left behind have to find new ways of being and adjust to a world forever changed.  It isn’t easy to manage grief, but for me it is tempered by the knowledge of the promise of eternal life.

That brings me back, in a full-circle way, to the message of Christmas.  Above all I pray that you will know the peace, hope, joy and love for one another that the Christ-child brings.  His is a message which is as unique and timeless as the amazing world we live in: love one another, as I have loved you. 

Blessings at Christmas and always.

Fr Duncan

Sermon on the 14th Sunday

Many centuries ago, Plato expressed a philosophical idea that has repercussions even to this day.  In Plato’s Phaedo, he tells us that the soul is imprisoned in the body.  

For Plato, and many people today, the human person has two separate parts and this concept is known as Plato’s dualism.  It states that our souls are noble and spiritual and lead us higher up.  Our bodies are material and sinful and drag us down.  

It is true that in daily life, we feel bodily temptations to overindulge in pleasures.  It certainly feels that our souls are weighed down by our bodies, and if we could just free ourselves from material needs, then at last, we would become a saint. 

While this may seem right, it is not.

We do not need to beat our bodies into submission to free ourselves more and more from what it means to be human. 

Our soul is not in a bodily prison, rather our bodies are “spiritualized” by our soul.  Consider the things that make us human:

o   We don’t just talk, we sing. 

o   We don’t just eat, we share delightful meals. 

o   We don’t just build shelters, we build homes and decorate them.

o   We love one another in sacrificial ways. 

o   We are romantics and poets, artisans and free-spirited adventurers. 

The people of Nazareth could not conceive of a Messiah that was as “human” as they were.   Thankfully, in God’s plan of salvation, our bodies are to come along with our souls on the journey of holiness.  One does not hinder the other, but both carry each other.  This is the miracle of being human and it is a gift from God.

Despite God’s omnipotence, there are a few things God has chosen not to be able to do:

·      God can’t force us to love him.

·      God can’t force us to trust him. 

These are two gifts that only we can give him.  And so often we refuse him these gifts!   Trust in God is the “Yes” God needs in order to perform his miracles in our modern world.

There are three special virtues that we as Christians can lay claim to. They are called theological virtues because they come from God himself (God = Theos). They are faith, hope, and love. 

Hope is often misunderstood. At first glance, it may not seem like something spiritual at all.  We hear people say all the time phrases such as: “I hope my team wins” or “I hope I win the lottery”. 

One way to understand hope is to recognize that it transforms and heals our past so that we can look towards the future with joy. 

We often may say that a person might have “baggage from the past”.  If you have baggage from the past, it means that something bad that happened yesterday is negatively conditioning your today and tomorrow. You see the future through the lens of the past hurts.

The people of Nazareth could not let go of the past. They knew Jesus too well and had to let go of what they thought they knew about him. They couldn’t see Jesus as the Messiah because of the false understanding they held onto about what the Messiah would look like and what he would do. As such, this inability to see their present and future through a different lens made them reject the Messiah!

Through baptism and by the sacrament of reconciliation, we receive an inpouring of transformative grace.  If we allow Christ to heal these past hurts, we are then freed from the past and able to look to the future now through a different lens: that of God! 

Hope is therefore being prophetic. Did not the prophets look to the future through the eyes of God, and then deliver these prophetic visions to their fellow man? 

If being a prophet means seeing the future through God’s eyes, then every baptized Christian who allows the theological virtue of hope to be operative in their life can hope to be in their own way and in their own circumstances, a true prophetic witness for Christ. 

If, like me, you were raised in the church and have always attended, you have the advantage of understanding and living a life of grace from the “cradle to the grave”. But there could be a few potential issues to deal with.

For example,  you have probably never had a moment of choosing on a personal level to make religion and faith a part of their life.   You may never have experienced being “far from the Father’s House”, and you might therefore undervalues what it means to “be in the Father’s house”.  You might have lots of church traditions that are the backdrop to your life but are not an intentional part of your life.  And you might not be “wowed” by learning about the faith because it always just seemed to make sense. 

So, what can a “cradle to grave Christian” do to avoid being “bored” or “overly familiar” with Jesus? Here are some practical things all of us should do:

Firstly, we have to meet Jesus anew each day.  Go to him in prayer as if you’ve never encountered him before.  

Secondly, we must routinely stand before God alone, with our individual uniqueness, and decide for ourselves that Jesus is our Lord and Saviour.

Thirdly, all of us should go on a retreat or pilgrimage so as to experience “something new” and finally, we should make sure to spread our faith, by talking about it, and sharing it. 

Sermon on 13th Sunday

Our humility is the source of our healing.

Today's Gospel passage illustrates this perfectly. Jesus performs two shocking miracles and in both cases, the key that released the power of his grace was humility.

Jairus, the synagogue official was humble: he knew that saving his daughter was something beyond his own powers. This is clearly demonstrated by how he approaches Jesus.

When he made his way into the Lord's presence, he wasn't aloof, sceptical, and argumentative, like so many Pharisees and Sadducees. Instead, St Mark tells us that he "fell at his [Jesus'] feet and pleaded earnestly with him."

The synagogue official was an important person in the city. He was used to being in charge, used to having the right answers and helping other people solve their problems. But faced with the mortal sickness of his child, Jairus remembered that there was a higher power in the universe than him, and he humbled himself before the Lord, and the Lord "went off with him" to work a miracle.

The woman with the haemorrhage was humble too; her sickness had made her so.

She was not a powerful leader in society. In fact, her sickness made her an outcast. She was "unclean," according to the Mosaic Law. And she was risking her very life by fighting her way through the crowd, touching all those people, and making them unclean too.

Where did she get the strength to overcome those obstacles? From her humility.  For twelve years she had been seeking a solution to her chronic, humiliating, and debilitating health issue, paying for all the latest technology and all the most highly recommended doctors.

And so she discovered the vast limits of human ingenuity, and turned instead to the limitless mercy of a much higher power.  She risked everything just to touch a tassel of the Lord's cloak; and strength far beyond her limited human powers flowed out from him and healed her. 

The humility of these two unforgettable Gospel characters opened their hearts to faith in Jesus Christ. And faith unleashed God's saving power in their lives.   And God's saving power healed their hopelessness, strengthened their weakness, and enlightened their darkness.

Our humility is also the source of true strength.

The humble person is strong in the same way that a shipwrecked person is strong. After a shipwreck, you will cling with all your might to a piece of board that will keep you afloat. You will not let it go no matter what, because you know that without it, you will drown.

That's humility: recognition of our dependence on the cross of Christ to save us from spiritual shipwreck, and that recognition inspires us with unbreakable courage.

During the French Revolution the revolutionary government took over the Church, and Catholics who refused to go along with the revolutionary agenda were imprisoned or executed.

In this difficult situation, one peasant farmer named Jean Chantebel gave an eloquent example of the strength of humility. His minimal education had come entirely from the Church. The book he treasured most was his little catechism. He loved to read it over in the evenings and savour its truths.

When he refused to attend the revolutionary church, the authorities searched his house and discovered his dog-eared Catholic catechism. Possessing the book was considered treason, and they arrested him.

The local revolutionary committee erected a pyre in the town square, gathered the townspeople around, and produced their prisoner, the faithful farmer.

They read the sentence passed on him and his book, laid the book on top of the large pile of wood, placed a burning torch in the prisoner's hand, and ordered him to set the catechism on fire.

He responded: "I will never do it. That book contains the principles of my faith, and you will never get me to renounce it." One of the committee members took the torch and applied its flame to the arrested man's own hand.

Chantebel replied to this gesture by saying, "You may burn not only my hand, but my whole body before I will consent to commit an act unworthy of my religion." In the end, they paraded him around town to humiliate him, but no storm of persecution could loosen his grip on the saving wood of Christ's glorious cross.

Humility is the only door through which God's grace can reach our hearts and set us on the path of true happiness.

This leaves us, logically speaking, with a question: What can we do to increase our humility?

St Paul gives us one possibility in today's Second Reading. In this Letter, he is encouraging the Christians in the prosperous Greek city of Corinth to be generous in helping the Christians in Jerusalem, who are suffering from a severe economic downturn.

He points out that sharing with others the gifts we have received from God's providence is one way we can follow Christ more closely. Jesus, in fact, was the first one who took the privileges he had received from the Father and surrendered them by becoming a man in the Incarnation. And by lowering himself in that way, he made it possible for us to share in those privileges, to become real children of God.

This is what St Paul is referring to when he writes: "... though he [Christ] was rich, for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich."

Christ, the eternal, divine Son of God, coming down from heaven and raising us up to share in his divinity is the perfect model of humility. We can follow his example by reaching out to others just as he has reached out to us.

Visiting the sick and imprisoned, feeding the hungry, praying for sinners, encouraging the discouraged, comforting the troubled, inviting sinners to repent...

By "gracious actions" like these (as St Paul calls them) we reproduce in our souls the humility that Christ taught us.  And doing that opens the door for his transforming grace to come and make us into the wise, joyful, courageous, and fruitful saints that we were created to be.

Sermon on 10th Sunday - All About the Devil!

Today I am going to cover a topic we don’t often discuss in our lives – the devil and demonic possession!  In our gospel reading today Jesus is called to a house where there is evidence of evil possessing someone.  Now, in our modern world, it isn’t particularly fashionable to speak of the devil, or demonic possession, but I am of no doubt whatsoever that these things are real.  I have witnessed them with my own eyes when I shadowed an exorcist as a young man, and nowadays priests are extremely careful to differentiate between mental health issues and genuine evil.

The rarest and most dramatic way that the devil tries to disturb our relationship with God is through demonic possession. Most of us have seen Hollywood depictions of people who are possessed. The Hollywood version usually emphasizes the strange and frightening effects of possession, and sometimes exaggerates them. But they don't really explain what possession is.

Possession is when the devil concentrates his activity within a person's body. When this happens, a person undergoes periods of "crisis" when the devil temporarily takes control of the person’s body. The devil can never take over a person’s soul, or make a person sin - God protects our freedom from that kind of attack.

But sometimes God does permit a demon to exercise control from within, over a person's body – that’s possession.   This is why, during times of crisis, a possessed person can show extraordinary physical strength, or speak and understand languages that the person never learned, or exhibit other strange phenomena.

Almost always, cases of possession originate when a person gets involved with the occult, spiritism, or witchcraft.  When someone does that, they open the door to the influence of evil.

The Church has a special ritual that is used to free someone from possession - it is called exorcism. Exorcism consists of a series of prayers and sacramentals, performed by a priest officially designated by the bishop.  In each Anglican diocese there will always be a priest who has special expertise in this area and when I discerning a vocation as a young man I spent time with the Diocesan Exorcist.  He convinced me that evil is very real and that the devil will always seek out ways to promote his agenda.

When a priest performs and exorcism, the ritual makes the devil suffer so much that, eventually, if the person is cooperative, the devil will just give up and leave.  There are also some other extra-ordinary ways that the devil tries to interfere with our lives.

Sometimes, God permits the devil to cause frightening physical disturbances in certain places, or even to our own bodies. These can take the forms of loud or strange noises, slamming doors or windows, or even more alarming effects.

St. John Vianney, a famous parish priest who lived in 19th-century France, for example, was dragged around his room by the devil. One time the devil even set his bed on fire. Luckily, the saintly priest was hearing confessions at the time. Later, when he was told what happened, his only response was to say that since the devil couldn't catch the bird, he set the cage on fire!

When these physical disturbances are concentrated in certain places, they are called infestations. When they directly affect someone's body (not from within, as in possession, but from the outside) they are called demonic oppression.

When they bother someone's mind, they are called demonic obsession - this happens even to saints.

Many saints, towards the end of their lives, were assailed by blasphemous thoughts, for example. These thoughts appeared suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere. But they battered the saints' minds intensely and repeatedly. That's what happens in demonic obsession.

These extra-ordinary kinds of devilish activity are dramatic and frightening. But they are much, much less frequent, and much, much less dangerous than the devil's favourite tactic for disturbing us: simple, ordinary, regular temptation.

Possession, infestation, oppression, and obsession can frighten us, but they usually lead us to exercise our faith in order to get rid of them. Temptation, on the other hand, tries to lead us into sin - and only sin can really damage our souls and interfere with our friendship with God.

How does temptation work?

We all have a fallen nature, and we live in a fallen world. As a result of this, we have ingrained tendencies towards selfishness, greed, lust, depression, anger... (the theological word for these tendencies is “concupiscence”)

These tendencies, when they are not curbed and formed by virtue, can get us into trouble. They can blind us to God's will, to what is right. Or they can overpower our desire to do what is right, to live as Christ teaches us to live. Temptation is an invitation to do just that - to choose our own, fallen, natural, self-centred preferences over what God wants for us, over God's wise and loving will.

But since, objectively speaking, God's will is always the best thing for us, temptations always involve some kind of lie, some kind of deception.

Look at what happened in the Garden of Eden, just before the passage we heard in today's First Reading. The devil tempted Adam and Eve by lying to them. He told them that God's warning about the forbidden fruit - that they would die if they ate it - was false.   He told them that if they ate the fruit they would become like God - that too was false.

But how did he convince them?

He turned their attention to the luscious appearance of the fruit, so that they would forget that God himself was the one who made the fruit, and made them, and gave them all the good things that they were enjoying!

He made them doubt the goodness of God, and this opened them to accept his other deceptions.

This is still the devil's favourite tactic: make us doubt God's wisdom, goodness, or mercy, so that we disobey God's plan for our happiness and choose our will instead of his will. He wants us to say, "My will be done" instead of "Thy will be done."

How can we defend ourselves in the face of these temptations?

That's the most important question - much more important than worrying excessively about demonic possession and oppression.

First of all, we need to use all the normal and most basic means to build up our friendship with Christ that the Church is constantly reminding us of:

daily, heartfelt prayer, and regularly taking the sacraments, especially Communion.  We need to make a conscious and daily effort to follow Christ's teaching and example in our words, actions, and relationships.

But there's one other thing that is truly essential, and that we too often overlook. Temptation always begins in our minds, with a thought, an invitation to choose our will over God's will.

And so, we need to form the habit of reflection, of interior silence, of discerning the origin of our different thoughts. Any time we have a thought that disturbs our interior peace, we have to pause and ask ourselves: Where did that thought come from?

Simply taking the time to reflect and to ask that question is often enough to unmask the devil's lies and return to the light of Christ. Thoughts that make us discouraged and depressed, or anxious and revengeful, or self-centred and rebellious, can never come from the Holy Spirit.

And if they don't come from the Holy Spirit, they either come from our fallen nature or from the evil spirit. Thoughts that come from the Holy Spirit always move us towards what is noble, good, true, and lovely, and they bring peace to the depths of our souls.

But we can't tell the difference unless we learn to reflect, quietly and honestly, on what occurs in our minds and hearts. We should create time and space for quiet reflection in our daily lives.

And when, in spite of our reflection and discernment, we still feel a strong pull to do what is wrong, we can think of the crucifix, which reminds us that God is completely trustworthy, that there is no limit to his goodness, love or mercy, since he gave his life for us while we were still sinners.

When we remind ourselves of that, it will be much easier to do what Jesus so passionately wants us to do, as he showed us in today's Gospel: to embrace and obey God's wise and loving will.

Sermon on Corpus Christi

The Jewish feast of the Passover commemorated and renewed the foundational experience of God's Chosen People of the Old Testament: their liberation from slavery in Egypt. 

The first Passover occurred in the aftermath of Pharaoh's repeated refusals to set the Israelites free to worship the one, true God.  Nine horrible and miraculous plagues wouldn't budge the stubborn Egyptian leader, so finally God sent his angel of death to slay every Egyptian firstborn male.

On that very night, every Israelite family was told to sacrifice a spotless lamb, mark the doorjambs of their dwellings with its blood, and feast upon it. The blood of the lamb signalled the presence of God's favour, and so the angel of death knew to "pass over" those families in the course of its destructive mission.

When Moses had successfully led his people out of Egypt, God gave the Israelites detailed instructions for the annual commemoration of the Passover event.  Such a commemoration, the Passover Seder (or "supper," still celebrated by Jews) was the occasion for Christ's institution of the sacrament of the Eucharist.

St Mark records the words of Jesus by which he reveals that he is the true Passover lamb.  Just as the Israelites in Egypt were saved from slavery by the lamb's sacrifice, so all men and women would be saved from sin by the sacrifice of Christ on Calvary, by the breaking of his body and the pouring out of his blood, out of love for us.

And just as the Israelites were to partake of the feast of the lamb, so all of Christ's followers are called to feast on his living body and blood through the Eucharist, in order to share intimately in his divine life. It is, truly, the bread that frees us from death, that nourishes in our souls the seed of eternal life that was planted there through baptism.

The Eucharist manifests Christ's Lordship over life and history: it extends his once-for-all sacrifice through all time and space. It also shows what kind of Lord he is: one who gives his life for those entrusted to his care, even for his Betrayer, Judas, who was right there at the Last Supper.

Another detail in St Mark's Gospel reiterates the central importance of the Eucharist.  St Mark spends as much time describing the odd events that immediately led up to the Last Supper as he does describing the institution of the Eucharist itself. 

What does the man carrying the water jar have to do with Christ's saving sacrifice?   Some scholars surmise that Jesus kept the location of the Last Supper secret in order to insure that his enemies wouldn't be able to apprehend him there. If he had said openly where they would be gathered, Judas would have been able to tip off the Jewish leaders.

Other scholars point out that carrying water was a woman's task in ancient Palestine, so finding a man carrying water subtly indicates the new order of things that Christ is about to establish.

Whatever scholars may say, however, one thing is clear: Jesus knew exactly how this last evening with his Apostles was going to pan out.  His instructions about finding the place for their celebration show that the occurrences of that evening were not left up to chance. Every word, every action was part of a drama being directed by God, most especially the highlight - the institution of the Eucharist.

This was no ordinary supper, no traditional celebration: the images and shadows of the Old Covenant would give way this night to the fullness of the New and Everlasting Covenant, which is renewed during every Mass.

The Eucharist, the sacramental foreshadowing and prolongation of Calvary, is no abstract symbol; it is the ultimate reality towards which all other symbols converge.

That is the cosmic meaning of the Eucharist, but what is its personal meaning for each one of us?  It is the super-abundant revelation of God's unconditional, undying, personal love for each and every one of us.

Christ gave his disciples bread, which had become his own body. Then he gave them wine, which had become his blood. He did this for their sake, and for the sake of all who would be saved from the slavery to sin.

What greater gift could he have given them, and through them, to us? Christ continues to take, bless, break, and give the bread and wine that are his body and blood - he does it through the priests of his Church, because he wants to stay with us and be our life, strength, and hope.

And this gift has no strings attached. 

Jesus gives it even though we are undeserving - like Judas, we have betrayed our Lord, countless times. 

Every time we ignore or discard the voice of conscience, every time we pick and choose among the Church's teachings, every time we judge our neighbour or fail to love others as Christ has loved us, we echo Judas' betrayal.

And yet, our Lord still comes to us in the Eucharist. Christ's love doesn't depend on our being worthy; Christ's love depends only on his burning desire to give us the fullness of life, to make us worthy.

What a relief to have such a friend, one who cares only about giving, and one who can give such an incomparable gift!

As we continue with this Mass, let's give God the pleasure of accepting that gift, at least today, with humble, faith-filled joy.

Sermon on Pentecost Sunday 2024

Pentecost 2024 

I want you to think for a moment about our musicians. Each week, they come to our church and produce some very beautiful music.  At some of our services, and particularly at occasional services like weddings and funerals, we might only have 1 or 2 musicians.  On many Sundays, we may have up to 10, and at Christmas and Easter that number swells even more, perhaps as many as 20.

When we listen to the music, we often forget the fact that them musicians are dependent on a conductor to ensure they are in time, and hopefully in tune if he has rehearse them well!  The conductor also controls the tempo and dynamics, and it is his, or her, interpretation which we may come to love.  I can think of a number of recordings of my favourite choral works which I would always go to listen to first, and they would be the benchmark I would compare other performances to.

The conductor in most of the opera houses I worked in was known as “maestro”.  He or she is literally the master of music, and is responsible for everything musical that occurs.  I don’t want to give Tom ideas above his station, but he is our Maestro!

The thing is, although the conductor is the visible sign of unity, that is to say he keeps everyone together, he is actually reading a score, which was produced by someone else.  It is the composer who actually creates the music in his or her mind and shares it in written form for others to play.  Some composers deliberately allow conductors to interpret their works broadly, giving them freedom to explore dynamics, tempo, phrasing and other aspects of the piece.  Some composers leave detailed notes of exactly how they want their piece performed: Olivier Messaien, whose organ work we heard last week is a good example of the latter.

But we, the people in the pews, or the audience in the opera house, don’t see the notes the composer has written, or the instructions he has left to the musicians.  We just listen to the beautiful music that is created for us, and we don’t often think about all of the people who have actually been involved in creating it.

The church is somewhat like this.  Here on earth, we have people who are called into particular positions of leadership.  They are often ordained, as I am, but not always.  They sometimes hold positions which claim to be a visible sign of unity: the Pope, The Archbishop, The Bishop.  They all have a role in leading the church and we, have a role in following. 

One of the key ideas we should think about today is how the Holy Spirit features in our understanding of the leadership of the church.  If we think about catholic order, we understand the idea of those who are called into specific ministries as being ordained, and ontologically changed.  That is to say, that at the laying of hands, a bishop, priest or deacon, is changed indelibly by God’s Holy Spirit.  They are literally marked by God, and believe me that is no small thing!

Of course, not everyone who goes to church believes this, and that becomes particularly relevant when we see those in positions of church leadership who don’t exactly seem to live up to the call placed on them.  Confusingly, there are many in the Anglican church who don’t believe in ontological change, they see ordination as a merely a historic formulary that will allow them to take up a job role.

And that’s the most complicated part of all of this; Bishops, priests and deacons do a job.  But it is a job unlike any other I have had, in that the accountability, as I understand it, is primarily to God, and to a bishop acting on his behalf.  Again, some Anglican’s disagree on this; many would follow a more congregationalist view and see that they are primarily accountable to their congregation.  But that is not a catholic understanding of the church or of Holy Orders. 

Whoever you look to, be it the Pope, the archbishop, or the bishop, understand that the Holy Spirit has marked them out and they are called to lead.  And as sheep follow a shepherd, so we are called to follow them.  That is never an easy task, particularly when we disagree on their interpretation, but, as all our musicians will tell you; there is only one conductor. 

Today, on Pentecost, we should consider how the Holy Spirit formed the church, and how it continues to do so.  When the spirit descended on Peter, when he preached to the church, he began what we now call the messianic age. 

These events are set against the backdrop of the celebration of Shavuot in Jerusalem.  Shavuot is celebrated 50 days after Passover, and has a joyous theme giving thanks to God for the first fruits of the harvest.  The streets would have been busy, and there would have been noisy parties taking place. 

Acts 2 tells us the disciples "were all together in one place" on the "day of Pentecost" and the Greek verb used in Acts 2:1 to indicate the arrival of the day of Pentecost carries a connotation of fulfillment.

A mighty rushing wind and tongues of fire appear.  It sounds terrifying, but the disciples were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in tongues.  There is much debate amongst scholars about the meaning of this: some would say it is about communicating in a wide range of languages, but others go with the idea of glossolalia as being an ecstatic language of the heavens.   Over the last 200o years many Christians have come to understand this event as evidence of the fulfilment of the prophecy that Jesus will baptize his followers with the Holy Spirit. 

Peter preaches to the crowd, speaking of the Resurrection and indicating the fulfillment of prophesy and the start of the age of the church.

Just like the first followers of Christ, we find ourselves looking for leadership in our church.  We seem to spend so much time arguing about power, when really we should be focusing on the need to live out the Gospel commandments.

Peter was the focal point for unity in the early church.  That brings us back to the original theme of today’s sermon – where do we look for leadership, for unity?

Look closely in your hearts and listen to God.  Stop worrying about who is in charge, and see that God is the great composer whose tune we delight in.  We invite the Holy Spirit into our hearts and our lives each time we pray to God and when we receive the sacraments of the church.

Let his grace lead you, let his love for you shine to others as we build his church

Fr Duncan's Sermon on 5th Sunday, 4/2/2024

Do you ever wonder why Jesus said some of the things he said, and did some of the things he did?

One of the most puzzling aspects of much of Jesus ministry is the fact that he seems to often ask his follower not to tell anyone what they have seen.  Now, because most of us have been reading and listening to the bible since we were children, we probably don’t stop often enough to ask obvious questions.

So here’s an obvious question: Why would Jesus, the Messiah, the saviour of mankind, not want people to know that he had the power to perform miracles, or to forgive sins?

Well, if we look at today’s reading, we begin to see a possible answer to that question.  I am currently re-reading a book I first read at college.  Marcus Borg was a pivotal figure in New Testament scholarship from the 1970’s until his death in 2015.  He has written extensively on all the Gospels. But his book on Mark explores some of the themes that underpin the text and help us understand the audience it was written for.  He suggests that these early chapters introduce the idea of conflict in Jesus Ministry, and that this is a theme which frames his public ministry; at the beginning and the end of his three or so years of ministry, Jesus was challenged, and threatened by scribes, and particularly by Pharisees.  Scribes were educated men whose job was to interpret the bible, whilst pharisees were all about ritual observance.  In Mark’s Gospel, which we will read this year, we see chapters 2 and 3 are dominated by these encounters which always involve conflict of some sort with authorities of one sort or another. 

So perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised that Jesus began his ministry in Capernaum and not in Jerusalem or Nazareth.  Capernaum was a village in Galilee.  It sat by the lake, and nearly all of those who lived there would have been involved in the fishing industry.  It was a fairly small village – only about 1500 people lived there during Jesus time and it remined a place where people lived and worked until around 100AD when it was abandoned, almost certainly because of the first crusade.

So if we were to compare Jesus decision to begin his ministry in Capernaum, with a location here in Queensland, I suppose we could say that it is as if he picked somewhere like Stanage Bay.  And if you don’t know that Stanage Bay is a tranquil fishing spot in the Livingstone area of Queensland, you probably will now understand that Capernaum has a similar vibe; it was not a well know place.  But Just like Stanage Bay, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city, Capernaum had a peaceful, laid back rhythm to life.

On the outskirts of the village is the synagogue.  You can still visit it today and stand in the very room where Jesus began his ministry.  Mark tells us that Jesus spoke as one with authority, not as a scribe; in other words, there was something about Jesus, about the way this wiry young man held an audience, that made him stand out.

Just down the road from the synagogue is a church.  It stands on the site of a house which tradition holds is the home of Simon.  It makes sense; its about 2 minutes from the synagogue and it was a small plot, the kind of size a fisherman’s family would have.  And it is here, in this house that we begin to really see the kind of power Jesus has.  He heals Simon’s mother in law, and the gossip factory that is a small community spreads so that within a couple of hours most of the village is in the street outside Simon’s house trying to see who this man is.  He healed the sick and cast out demons that day.  And the next day he began his journey south.

If we go back to that original question I asked – why didn’t Jesus want people to know about his skills and abilities, we might begin to answer by saying something like “ because so many people flocked to see him” or “because he was worried about the authorities arresting him.”  But Ched Myers, the American theologian suggests that Jesus’ reluctance to be open and proclaim God’s power withing in him was because he not only challenged the laws of nature, but that he challenged societal structure.  Jesus was no doubt aware that his very existence was going to continually challenge the entire fabric of the world he inhabited and he had to be careful about what to reveal, to who and how.  And this is one of the reasons Jesus is often mysterious, why he speaks in metaphors and pictures and doesn’t answer questions directly.    

For the last hundred or so years we have referred to this idea as the “Messianic Secret.”    The theologian William Wrede explored the idea in 1901; most of his ideas have been dismissed, but the name and the concept has stuck, and it is a puzzling conundrum.

There is tension in Jesus ministry from the very beginning.  He has a message to proclaim and he wants it to be heard.  But he doesn’t want the message to become about him.  This posed a huge problem for Jesus and he wrestled with it throughout his ministry.  I get the impression it frustrated his as time went on and he became more famous.  And one can argue that he failed in this respect, because  Jesus went on to become a celebrity.

When we are faced with conflict, we often see it become polarized in key figures.  Think of wars: Hitler and Churchill or Putin and Zelensky.  Think of politics: Albanese vs Dutton, or for us Brits, Thatcher vs Kinnock.  Think of our church for a moment, we even vest conflict in our church leaders.  Think for a moment of names like Glenn Davies and Kanishka Raffael.  These church figures are often posed against figures like Jeremy Greaves and Kay Goldsworthy.

Jesus had to know he would face conflict; Jesus vs the Scribes, Jesus vs the Pharisees, Jesus vs Herod, Jesus vs Pilate.  But he had to weigh the need to be humble, to be reserved, to focus on a message about his ideas and not himself.  We don’t often see this in our modern world.  It may be naïve to think we could achieve outcomes if we tried to emulate it.  But Jesus leaves us with this conundrum for us to ponder.    

Perhaps our leaders would do well to emulate some of Jesus’ ideas about when and who to reveal their thoughts too.  Perhaps they should take a little more care in choosing the battles they fight.   And Perhaps we would all do a little better if we stopped focusing so much on our selves and our message, but on others and the need to find the right language to communicate with them.

+Bill Ray on Advent 2 2023

It is good to be with you on this Second Sunday of Advent. I thank Fr Duncan for his invitation to preach this morning as well as inviting me to your Christmas Luncheon. 

At the start of Mass, the second Advent Candle was lit.  Yes, we have heard many times about the Advent  wreath, but there are three realities of our faith represented in the wreath. First the wreath is a circle and a circle has no beginning or ending; as God’s love for us has no beginning or end. God’s love is just abundant.

There are four coloured candles, one each for the four weeks of Advent. We lit one candle last week. Today is Advent 2, thus the second candle is lit.

You will note that there are three purple candles and one rose.  We light the rose candle at the start of the third week, next week. This year, Advent 4 falls on Christmas Eve, making  this Advent the shortest possible. This year Week Four of Advent is only one day. 

Now each of the coloured candle in the Advent wreath has a particular focus

Week One                   Hope

Week Two                   Peace

Week three                 Joy

Week Four                  Love.

Just a few comments about today - Peace.  We seek peace at several levels, acknowledging that peace can be very elusive.

We seek peace globally.  We are saddened at the moment that in some parts of God’s wonderful world peace is absent. We must constantly pray for the peace of the world and those who are suffering and grieving as result of war.

Each of us seek the peace of Christ in our daily lives.  Peace within us can be elusive. We all know that we need to be still and know God.  Advent is also about waiting and it is important we make time each day to wait on God

Also, many are seeking peace between family members and some among their friends.

The white candle in the centre is the Christ lit at the Christ Mass, reminding us that the babe born at Bethlehem is the Light of the World, and we are to be lights for Christ in world.

So, the Advent Wreath speaks to us about what we believe and how we live out our faith. 

The season of Advent has a two fold focus.  We focus on the Nativity of our Lord, Jesus, who came among us in human form as a baby in Bethlehem.  The birth of our Lord is recorded in only two of the four Gospels. 

First, Matthew’s account contains the birth and then goes onto the visit of the Wise Men which is the Epiphany that we celebrate on the 6th January or the Sunday closest to the 6th January. The visit of the Wise Men reminds that Jesus came from all people, Jew and Gentile alike.

Second, Luke  records the birth of Christ, from Mary’s point of view. It is only in Luke that we have the angel Gabriel visiting Mary.  It is only in Luke that Mary visits Elizabeth.  It is only in Luke that we have those glorious words spoken by Mary when she uttered The Magnificat.  It is only in Luke that we have the visit of the Shepherds.

The second focus of Advent is the second coming of Christ. We read in Mark 13:32-37.

“But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.”

Each week at Mass - we say or sing:

Christ has died,

Christ is risen

Christ will come again.

As implied before, the birth of Christ is not recorded in Mark’s Gospel.  Mark’s Gospel is short, sharp and to the point. It starts off with “The beginning of the Good News of Jesus Christ, the Son of God”. Then Mark quotes the prophet Isaiah,

A voice cries out

“See I am sending you my messenger ahead of you who will prepare your way, the voice of one crying out in the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord’. (Mark 1:2&3)

John the Baptist, is the one who prepares the way of the Lord and Jesus is the one to come.

Or as John the Baptist said, “The one who is to come is more powerful than him.  John the Baptist said he was not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals.  While John baptised with water Jesus will baptised with the Holy Spirit.

This raises the question for each of us as Christians and as a Church. How did we prepare the way of the Lord? 

Three quick points:

First we have to be available - At times I went to the Mall in Townsville and just sat on a seat, dressed in my clerical colour.  I was surprised how many people came up to me and asked about the Christian faith, the Gospel.

Second, we have to answer the questions people are asking, not the questions we think they should be asking in terms of the faith.

Third, we need to walk with people at their pace, not our pace.

May we use this Advent to prepare the way of the Lord and may people see in us the significance of our Lord’s birth for each of us as disciples of Christ; as we wait for our Lord’s return in glory

I would like to close with an alternate Collect for this week:

O Lord Jesus Christ,

who at your first coming

sent your messenger to prepare your way before you:

grant that the ministers and stewards of your mysteries

may likewise so prepare and make ready your way

by turning the hearts of the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous,

that at your second coming to judge the world we may be found an acceptable people in your sight;

for you live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God now and forever.  Amen.

(APBA, page 466)

Fr Duncan's Sermon on 4th Sunday in Eastertide

John 10:1-10

Anyone who is actively involved in ministry will have a particular sense of the importance of the passage we heard in our Gospel today.  John 10: 1-10 is know as The Good Shepherd, and in it Jesus uses metaphorical imagery to describe what it means for us to be in relationship with him.  As is so often the case with John, it is easy to get lost in the beauty of the language, assuming we have a good translation of course, but it is the message at the heart of the passage which has such great significance for us, and particularly for those of us in ministry.

Jesus starts by giving us an image of someone who does not demonstrate the qualities he seeks in his shepherd.  Describing a bandit, Jesus is actually making the point that there are those who present as shepherds who are anything but.  You have probably heard the age old comment, “priests only work 1 day a week.” Years ago it was a joke, but as society has become more and more secularized it is often seen as a fact.  Many people have no idea what I do outside of a Sunday morning and are quite genuinely surprised to hear that I work 6 days a week.

You see, the process of shepherding, the process which Jesus is describing in this passage, is not always something you can capture in a job description or a statement of particulars.  Recently the diocese published a description of the person they are seeking to become the next Archbishop.  The document is highly detailed and suggests that the diocese seeks someone who is: (and I quote)

a person of deep faith, committed to the Gospel, who will embody and articulate the values identified as important in our expression of Anglicanism in Southern Queensland: a faithful, imaginative, creative, courageous, and authentic leader who will inspire and facilitate the implementation of the Diocesan Vision that we be flourishing faith communities who proclaim and serve; worship and learn.

So is this the language of shepherding?  When I read the document I was surprised to find that the word shepherd was not used anywhere in the description of the qualities, skills and experiences they are looking for.

Jesus calls those who lead the church to shepherd, and at a local level bishops share their ministry with   priests and deacons.

Listen to this description of shepherding language:

2 The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. 3 The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4 When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. 5 They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.

In his description Jesus clearly points to the fact that God calls people into particular roles, he literally “opens the gate and the sheep hear his voice.”  And Jesus tells us that those he calls to shepherd others will lead the sheep and they will follow.

Much of our churches history is built on the idea of formalized ministry; we nurture those who God is calling and help them test their vocation, we affirm the calling formally, train them intensively and then we publicly declare them as called into specific ministries when we ordain them into the sacred priesthood.

As a parish priest, I minister on behalf of a bishop.  I share the charge he is called to and I have the cure of the souls of the parish I lead.  I am clear about these things and I believe that the church I am called to is part of something much greater, and that is the universal church of Jesus Christ, and he is the great shepherd.

Of course a shepherd needs sheep, and that is where you fit in.  In the second part of our passage Jesus tells the people that he is the gate for the sheep.  Whoever enters will be saved, and can come and go to find fresh pasture. 

I would suggest that we should all consider carefully what our understanding of the idea of a shepherd really is.  Because according to Jesus, you can only enter the gate of heaven if you are shepherded.  So we are in a relationship.  I am called to share the Bishop’s charge to shepherd, and you are called to follow.  Following isn’t always easy; let’s face it I get things wrong, I can unwittingly upset people, I may say things which people don’t agree with, or do things which others feel is foolish. 

But the relationship we are in, priest and people, is one where there must be a degree of trust and understanding.   I will always seek prayerfully to respond to God’s call to me.  And that isn’t always easy for me or my loved ones.  

So on this Good Shepherd Sunday I would ask that you pray for all involved in ministry.  I would ask that you pray for our diocese as we seek a new Shepherd in Chief, and I would ask that you pray for each other and for me, that we may better understand what it means to be a church that is being shepherded.

Divine Mercy Sunday

Today, the Sunday after Easter Sunday, is often referred to as Low Sunday.  To understand what this means we first have to understand that we are completing the Octave of Easter. 

On the eight day after the resurrection we encounter the story of Thomas.  Thomas is of course known as “doubting Thomas,”  he is the disciple who just couldn’t believe the reality of the resurrection until he had actually witnessed Jesus in the flesh.  So Jesus not only speaks to Thomas, he also shows him his wounds and invites him to touch and feel them.  There is a famous painting by Caravaggio, the Incredulity of Saint Thomas, which captures the moment that Thomas places his finger in the pierced side of the risen Christ.  And at that moment, Thomas utters the words “My Lord and my God,” which to this day are spoken by some catholics as they receive Our Lord in communion at the altar rail.

So Low Sunday occurs at the end of the Octave of Easter.  Quite why it is referred to as Low Sunday is not completely clear, but many think it is meant to contrast with the high festival of Easter day.  And certainly that is the case here, we have no Deacon or Sub-deacon, choir or string quartet.  Mass is much simpler, lower if you like.  In my diocese in England, stipendiary clergy will almost certainly take the Sunday off – the rules are somewhat different in the UK as Priests are not employed as such.  But nearly all full-time parish-based clergy will take time off and they are encouraged to use retired clergy, part time and non-stipendiaries to cover services. 

So, on this Low Sunday our Mass looks a little different.  But there are a number of other names which are given to this particular Sunday.  In the pre-1962 Roman Missal this Sunday was called Dominica in Albis on Octava Paschae, which translates as Sunday in White, in the Octave of Easter.  It became known as White Sunday because this was the day when those who has been Baptized in the Easter Liturgy could stop wearing their white baptismal robes – after the service obviously!

But perhaps the most interesting name for this Sunday is Divine Mercy Sunday.   Divine Mercy Sunday is a recent addition to the Church’s Calendar.  It was instituted in the year 2000 by Pope John Paul 2nd.   The name Divine Mercy Sunday is becoming increasingly popular throughout the Roman church and a number of Anglo catholic parishes are now designating today as such.   So, I thought it would be useful to explore the origins of this recent addition to the church year.

Maria Faustina Kowalska was a Polish nun.  She was born in 1905 and died at the young age of 33 in 1938.  Sister Maria, born with the name Helena, felt a calling to the religious life after attending a service of Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament.  These services are very common in Poland, and when I was I Krakow a few years ago it was amazing to walk through the city and find many of the churches have their doors open to the world with the Blessed Sacrament exposed. 

Following a vision in which Jesus instructed the 18 year old Helena to travel to Warsaw,  she searched for a convent who would accept her.  Many of the numerous convents would not take her; she was from a poor background and was poorly educated.  Helena worked in domestic service and saved enough money to buy her habit so she would not be a financial burden on the convent who took her and finally, in 1926 she was admitted to the Sisters of Our Lady of Mercy and was given the name Sister Maria Faustina of the Blessed Sacrament.

In 1930 Sister Maria was transferred to a convent in Plock where she fell ill with Tuberculosis.  After some time away from the convent recovering in the countryside Sister Maria returned to the convent.  In her small and sparse cell a vision of Our Lord appeared to Sister Maria.  In her diaries, she describes Jesus as wearing a white garment with red and pale rays emanating from his heart.  Jesus instructed her to

paint an image according to the pattern you see, with the signature, “Jesus, I trust in you.”  

Sister Maria Faustina was not a painter.  She had no idea how to fulfil the instruction she had been given and asked for help.  An image was produced, which some of you will almost certainly have seen, perhaps without knowing this story, in 1934.  It is known as the Divine Mercy image.

Sister Maria Faustina wrote in her diary that on Good Friday, 19th April 1935, Jesus spoke to her and told her that he wanted the image of the Divine Mercy to be publicly honoured.  And on the 28th April 1935, the 2nd Sunday of Easter, which is today, a Mass was held during which the image was publicly honoured.

Sister Maria Faustina went on to write the Divine Mercy Chaplet which is a series of devotional prayers based on the visions of Christ she had experienced.  The call to Divine Mercy is something which we should all consider; Sister Maria suggests that Jesus calls all of us to consider that Christ is merciful to us, and that we should be merciful to others.

The first time I prayed with a parishioner who was close to death I used the Divine Mercy Chaplet when I am particular grateful to Saint Maria Faustina Kowalska as it was of tremendous support to me and the lady I was praying with.

In Krakow, the Shrine of Divine Mercy is located in the southern suburbs.  St Maria Faustina Kowalska is buried there, alongside the original  image of the Divine Mercy which has been replicated and sent all over the world.  It is a beautiful church in the middle of the convent Sister Maria lived in. 

If you want to know more about her life, the best way is to read her book, which is based on her diaries.  I would urge you to consider it.

So, this particular Sunday has many names.  And all of them have interesting and meaningful origins.  But perhaps the most interesting thing to remember is that we are within Eastertide. Today is the 2nd Sunday within Eastertide.  And we will remain within Eastertide for quite some time.

So just as we share the joy of the resurrection, we should perhaps reflect on the fact that The Call to Divine Mercy is a further call to faith.  Jesus instructed Sister Maria to proclaim the image with the words, “Jesu, I trust in you.” Which is interesting when we think about our Gospel reading today.  The reading where we encounter the figure of Saint Thomas, AKA doubting Thomas.  And it is interesting that the church places all these things together on the same Sunday, so we can consider them, and learn from them.

Fr Duncan's Sermon on Lent 1

Why was Jesus tempted?

In our Gospel reading today we have heard a passage which describes the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness.   It is such an important passage that all three of the synoptic Gospels recount the story.

Instead of just reading the passage, I want to explain how those of us who are called to study, question and interpret scripture go about decoding the text and the challenges it presents.

The fact that all three synoptic writers recount the same event tells us of the particular importance the theme had at the time.  Remember that each gospel was written for a different audience: Matthew, whom we heard from today, was most likely writing for a Jewish audience who were in the process of converting to following Jesus Christ.

Mark was almost certainly written for an audience that was made up of gentiles.  How do we know this?  Well the texts have comparatively little reference to the Hebrew scriptures or the law.  This is in direct contrast to Matthew.

I bet if I was to ask you “what did Luke do?” many of you would be able to answer –“he was a doctor.”  Whilst this is true, the person who actually wrote the Gospel of Luke may well have been someone completely different. Luke had many supporters, he was an educated man, and he attracted educated men to him.  Many scholars believe Luke was written by a Syrian author based in Antioch.  This follows extensive textual analysis and consideration of the clues buried in the subtext.

So always remember that you are reading a Gospel written for a specific audience.  If a passage appears in all three Gospels we can assume it has a particular significance.  Our passage today deals with temptation.  But temptation to a Jewish audience had a different meaning to an audience of gentiles.  This is significant when we try to understand the text.

Next we need to consider the genre of the text.  In the case of this passage it isn’t as simple as you might think.  William Barclay was a prolific scholar.  When I was a child my mother always used his bible commentaries to help her understand the texts and I remember reading most of his commentaries as a teenager.  I still have many of them on my bookshelves and I use them regularly.  Barclay is particularly well known for his thoughts on this passage.

Barclay believed that this passage was a parable.  He did not believe it was not historical text, as most of the synoptics are considered to be, but instead considered it to be a story that Jesus told to an audience to explain the theological significance of temptation.  Barclay looked closely at the text and analyzed it.  He comments on a number of things that make him question the passage as a historical text.  One such comment is that the mountain description is unrealistic; Barclay reminds us that there is “no mountain high enough in all the world to see the world.”  But I have visited the Mount of Temptation and it looks over vast swathes of empty desert on one side, and down to the city of Jericho on the other.  It does rather feel like one is surveying the known world when one is up there!  Although the hawkers and beggars are a little off putting! 

William Barclay is of course correct; there is no mountain from which we can see the whole; there can be no arguing that.  What Barclay did was pick the text apart and cast a 20th century view on the passage.  He picked up on work that had been done in light of the reformation by Benson and Farmer who began the same debate.  But when we consider Barclay’s scholarship we must always consider the lens through which he looked.  Barclay was a minister in the Church of Scotland, a strongly protestant organization.

A catholic view of the text we read today would be that the temptation of Christ in the desert was a literal event.  Thomas Aquinas believed that the Temptation happened so that we might understand Christ’s humanity as sinless.  He is the High Priest who took human form yet did not succumb to human temptation. 

Lets look for a moment at how Christ was tempted.  Christ was taken to a place away from society.  The desert is barren and Jewish Law associated it with scapegoating.  In Leviticus we are told of Azazel.  He is a scapegoat on which the sins of the Jewish people were placed and then banished to the desert.  In Jewish, Christian and Islamic narratives the desert is a place for banishment, sacrifice and atonement for sin.

So Jesus’ temptation in the desert has very specific connotations. There is no doubt that anyone who read the Gospels in biblical times would understand the significance of the place and its meaning.  In our modern world, we really don’t have anything quite like it.  We tend to shun people  by social media these days, but back in Christ’s time, the desert was the equivalent!

Jesus’ first temptation was food.  The devil encourages Jesus to turn stones into bread.  The famous response Jesus gives, Man does not live by bread alone, is recorded more fully in Matthews Gospel.  He suggests Jesus actually said Man does not live by bread alone, but on every word that proceeds from the mouth of God. This is a refence to Deuteronomy chapter 8.  This chapter of the Torah speaks to God’s reason for putting his chosen people through difficulty in the desert.  God did it to help them understand the fullness of his promised land.  First they suffered so they could fully realise the beauty of God’s creation.  So Christ does this for us in the wilderness.   He is the fulfillment of the new Covenant.  He is the promised land.

Next the devil takes Jesus to the Holy City of Jerusalem.  Here Jesus is asked to prove his divinity by demonstrating his supernatural powers.  The Pinnacle of the Temple from which Jesus is asked to throw himself was probably the tower high above the sanctuary.  Jesus is having none of this and instructs the devil do not put the Lord you God to the test.

 Finally Jesus is taken to a mountain where he can see all of the world.  He is tempted by the suggestion that he can rule everything he sees if he just gives in and worships the devil.  Christ stands firm and instructs the devil by quoting the Law back to him:

“Worship the Lord your God,
    and serve only him.”’

Once again Jesus speaks of the importance of the law.  He will not be tempted to act against it and act against God.  Jesus was tempted.  But he didn’t give in, he wouldn’t cooperate with the devil. 

I began this sermon by asking the question why?  Why was Jesus tempted?  Ultimately, Jesus was tempted because we face temptation.   In the Epistle to the Hebrews we hear this:

 Therefore he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people. (2:17)

Jesus was tempted so he could be in every respect like us.  He had to know the world as we do and experience the challenges we experience.  He does this so he can understand our humanity, so that when we are in the depths of despair, when we have really messed up, he can be with us.  Jesus faced the most extreme temptation so that he can say I know how feel and really mean it.  Jesus didn’t resist temptation as a deity, he did so as a human being. 

This lent we should all consider how we respond to temptation.  We should consider our human frailties and know our own weakness.  We should pray to God for the strength to overcome our temptations, and give thanks that Christ modelled a life to which we can aspire.

Ash Wednesday 2023

Remember you are but dust, and to dust you shall return.

One of the questions I often get asked is what is the point?  What is the point of all these signs and symbols we use in church?  Surely they are a bit unnecessary in our modern world?  Lots of churches do things differently, so why is it that we maintain rituals, customs and traditions?

The answer isn’t a simple one: On the one hand we observe certain traditions because they link us to the past.  On the other we may do them because they are beautiful, and we seek to offer God the very best.  Liturgy unites us with the church and it is our offering to God in great humility and thanks.

But today, as ashes are imposed, we are given a vital sign of our humanity.  We impose ashes, not because it’s what we have always done, not because it is pretty, but because it has significant meaning to us and our lives.  As we are ashed,  we are marked with our own death. We are reminded to consider it and we are asked look in that figurative mirror and explore our own consciousness.   This is the chance to put some things in order, before it’s too late.

Ash Wednesday is a day when we should take seriously the process of admitting our mistakes and considering our sins.  This is never easy and it can cause pain.  But without this exploration we can never truly face God and be reconciled to him.

You have heard me speak of this reconciliation before.  It is the at very heart of our faith.  We usually speak of the love we are called too, but today, on Ash Wednesday, I want each and every one of us to consider our mistakes, our sinful behaviours, and make a promise to actively turn to God and reconcile these things.

Reconciliation is an active process.  You can’t just sit back and let it happen around you or to you.  You have to participate.   Begin by making some time to consider carefully those things in your life which are problematic.  Examine yourself and consider where sin lies.  Are you living with the burden of sinful behaviours?  Are you unsure if something is sin or not?  Please ask for help, don’t be ashamed and understand that we are all sinful and we are all called to be reconciled.

But before we can be reconciled, we must repent.  Repentance is, in my experience, the easy part.  It is the identification of sin, the admittance of sin, that challenges people more.  Once it is admitted and embraced, the desire to move on is often a huge motivator.

So find some time to remove yourself from the public sphere, and remove yourself from your own self-interest; use the lens of righteousness and piety, explore your soul and seek God-centred actions, and words,  that bring reconciliation into the world: 

As ashes are imposed on us we are reminded that one day, it will all be too late.  One day, we will wake up as mortals for the last time.  When that day comes, I pray that each and every one of us is in a state of grace, ready to meet Our Lord and take our place alongside him.

This Lent there are many opportunities to make things right in your soul.

Take advantage of the extra liturgy on offer, study with others during Lent at our Lent Group.  Make an effort to attend Mass during the week.  Spend some time fasting and focussing on God.  Meditate and pray.  If you have not made your confession please consider it, and please seek to live your life in grace.

Please take time to really think about your life and your behaviours and the impact they have on other people.  Think about the last time you hurt someone with something you said, wrote or did.  How can you make that right?  How can you meet God when these things are in your consciousness?

Forgiveness is freely given, but reconciliation is something we have to actively seek.  Please ask for help if you find this challenging. 

As a parish we are very lucky to have 2 priests available for counsel and confession.  Please do use us.  Fr John and I would like nothing more that to see us all fulfill our Christian destiny and take our places in heaven.

Remember you are but dust, and to dust you shall return.

Fr Duncan's Sermon 7th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

How do you meet God?

It’s a question we have been looking at in preparation classes for confirmation and it is a very relevant question for all of us. When was the last time you considered how and where you meet God?  When did you reflect on God’s calling to you and his impact on your life?  When did you explore ideas and concepts such as sin and evil, grace and forgiveness?

For those of us who are theologians we live and breathe this everyday but it’s not for everyone.  Yet the church intervenes at certain points in our lives and asks us to specifically consider some pretty complicated theological thinking.

Over the last couple of months, Darcy, Glenn, Marilyn and Josh have been mulling over these issues and they have been seeking to find out where and how they will meet God.

One way they will do this is through the sacraments of the church.  I hope that each of the candidates could explain what the sacraments are, they have all spent quite some considerable time considering them.  But more importantly, I hope they could explain what the sacraments mean to us as Christians.

In each sacrament there is something visible which is pointing beyond itself to God and a prayer accompanying that sign.  Shortly I will baptize Glenn, August and Chloe by pouring water over them.  This is the visible sign of God’s presence.  As I pour the water I will say “I baptize you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”  In this prayer, God will touch them and place a figurative mark deep within their souls as the Holy Spirit is poured out onto them.

In Confirmation, it is Bishop Jeremy who will anoint the candidates on the forehead with the oil of chrism and the prayer is, “Strengthen Lord your servant (n), with your Holy Spirit.”   As he lays his hands on their head an prayers for them the Holy Spirit will descend onto them and flood their very beings.

In the Sacrament of the Eucharist, the visible is the bread and wine until the consecration (and afterwards the Body and Blood of Jesus) and the prayer is the words of the consecration.

For each of the seven sacraments—and the sacraments were instituted by Jesus—there is something visible pointing beyond itself and there is an accompanying prayer.

Each of the sacraments gives us grace.  During their preparation for confirmation, when I explained grace I likened it to petrol.  We need fuel in our tanks to run our cars.  We go to a petrol station and pay for the fuel.  But God’s grace is freely given to us, and his son died that we might receive it.  We need to be in a state of grace, and the sacraments of the church can help us exist in a closer relationship with God.

In Baptism, the church teaches that we are freed from the bonds of original sin.  More importantly our souls are united with Christ and we become children of God.  In confirmation we complete the cycle of grace that began at Baptism when we witness publicly to our faith in Christ.  We often associate confirmation with reaching Christian maturity, but I am still not sure I would call myself a mature Christian despite have been Confirmed some 39 years ago.

At the eucharist, we partake in the most wonderful of all the sacraments when we accept Our Lord into our very beings and draw ever closer to him.

But grace has to be used.  Not so long ago I had to empty fuel from an old motorcycle.  It had laid dormant for 3 years and the fuel had gone off.  It was immediately obvious that the fuel was unusable, it smelt wrong.

Grace has to be used.  We are called by God to share the grace we are blessed with.  We do this particularly in our actions towards others, but also in the way we try to live our lives with our families and work colleagues.  It is grace that gives us the strength to live out our faith and endure the challenges of life.

So, whilst today our candidates for Baptism and Confirmation will receive God’s grace deep within them, it would be very easy to let it lie dormant in the future.

And that is where we come in.  We the Body of Christ, the church of God, are called to nurture and support each other.  We were all baptized and most of us have been confirmed.  A couple of us have been ordained and one has even been consecrated.  But we are all completely dependent on each other.  Bishop Jeremy needs Priests and people.  Without them his role is void.   And just as we have a bishop in church who needs his people, so we have those to be baptized and confirmed who also need their people.  And we are those people, you and I.  So instead of looking to someone else, a warden or your priest, to support those who are new to the faith or growing in it, use some of that grace so freely given and reach out to those who are taking these steps today.

Talk to them about your journey.  Explain how and where you meet God. Share how you pray, share what frustrates you about the church, and share what you love about it.  Play your part in the life of the church and help to grow God’s holy people.

Fr Duncan's Sermon 6th Sunday in Ordinary Time

I want you to travel with me to the Mount of Olives.  It is a beautiful place, a place that sits immediately opposite the city of Jerusalem.  High on a hill side you look down to the Kedron Valley, the Garden of Gethsemane and the climb up to the old city gates.

Today of course, the mount is a tourist destination.  Everyday literally thousands of pilgrims and tourists arrive to look down on the beautiful views of Temple Mount and the city.  But it is interesting to turn around and look up the hill.  Because it was here that Jesus most likely delivered the most famous of all his lessons, the Beatitudes.  In biblical times, to climb a hill was significant.  Firstly, it drew one closer to God.  God is high above in heaven, and so a hill moves us physically closer to him.

But the other reason is that a hill was a natural classroom.  Standing above the crowds, his voice carried down and over them.  They could see him and hear him, and we just take that sort of thing for granted in our modern world.  Imaging just being there, watching and listening to the man who would change the world preaching what would become his most famous of passages.

The section of the Gospel we hear today comes immediately after the famous Beatitudes, the Blessed are the poor, Blessed are the meek, blessed are the merciful, etc.etc.  In this section Jesus focuses on the law.  There is a seeming juxtaposition in his words.  His gear has shifted from a message of love and blessings to a message about the rules.  Why does he do this?

Jesus was an observant Jew.  Remember that during his lifetime he not only kept the law, but he cherished and loved it in a Jewish way.  To an observant Jew, the Laws contained in the first 5 books of the Old Testament are Holy.  They are God’s laws and were handed down by him directly.  They should be studied, understood, cherished and passed down from one generation to the next.  They are the lifeblood of the Jewish faith.

So, when Jesus speaks in verse 18 and says:

18 For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished.

He is reminding his audience that his new message, his new way of living, is one that can co-exist within Jewish law.  This is really important for us to comprehend because so often we think of Jesus as a rebel, an exciting figure who challenged the authority of the Jewish leaders and turned so much of the world upside down.

But what happens next is even more interesting.  Jesus immediately teaches on specific laws.  He interprets the law and expands on it.  He demonstrates his rabbinical skills by making quite abstract links to the law.  Look at what he says on murder.

          21 “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘You shall not murder,[a] and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’ 22 But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister[b][c] will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister, ‘Raca,’[d] is answerable to the court. And anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell.

23 “Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, 24 leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift.

Jesus states the law.  It is simple and straightforward.   If you kill you will be subject to judgement.  But then he brings the law into the realm of the everyday.  He uses an Aramaic word which doesn’t translate too well, to describe anger – Raca.  It means something like “I hate you,” or “I have contempt for you.”  Jesus tells us that if we have these feeling towards others, we will be judged.  He tells us that if we call someone a fool, we will be in danger of the fires of Hell.

Now I don’t know about you, but there are plenty of people I get angry with.  And there are times when that anger is fierce.  I am judgemental and self-righteous, and I can be dismissive of those who I see as being in the wrong.  So, am I in danger of the Fires of Hell?

Well, on one reading of Jesus’ words I most definitely am, but when we look at what he says next it helps us understand why we are saved; Jesus warns against presenting sacrificial offerings at the temple when we are in a state of anger. 

Those who are to be confirmed next week have been learning how to live in a state of grace.  Hopefully they would all be able to speak about the cycle we seek to live in a Christians.

We accept that we are sinful, we seek forgiveness and repent, we receive the sacraments of the church, and grace is restored.

So here on the Mount of Olives, high above the city, with Golgotha, the place where he would die for us, Jesus explains why he has come to fulfill the law.  Put simply, no matter how hard we try to keep God’s law, we will always fail.  That is the nature of our humanity, and it is something Jesus was trying to explain to his Jewish audience.

So, when we speak of Jesus dying on a cross for our sins, it is for all of our sins.  This is the passage of text when he is looking to the cross, his journey is shifting towards its fulfillment.  Jesus must die so that the law can be fulfilled, because we can never do it on our own.

Whenever I stand on the Mount of Olives I am in awe.  It is understandably overwhelming to be in such a place.  But as I have drawn closer to Christ through my adult life, and particularly as I have morphed from a headteacher into a theologian, I have begun to understand the significance of Jesus’ teachings in a deeper and more personal way.

So don’t just believe that just died for you, live life in a way that proclaims it.  Understand what Jesus meant when he said he was the fulfillment of the law.  He fulfills it because we can’t, because try as we might we fail.  But that doesn’t mean we give up or don’t try because it’s too hard.

A while ago I spoke about the sacrament of confession.  I explained that it is about drawing closer to God and Jesus.  It is about reconciling those things that are so entrenched in our humanity that we cannot properly pit them away.  This is what Jesus is speaking of when he teaches about the Law.  Yes we know we shouldn’t kill people, that’s taken for granted.  But how do we deal with anger, bitterness, jealousy, rage, envy and the multitude of sins we all commit?  Yes, we pray to God and ask for forgiveness and we know it is freely givem.  But does that reconcile these actions?

When Helen Prejean wrote her book Dead Man Walking, she witnessed her work with death row offenders.  After one execution, she encountered a relative of a victim of the executed man standing outside the prison looking bereft.  She spoke gently to him and tried to help him make sense of the feeling he had.  He thought the death of the killer would bring closure, but he was wrong and was left with a complex set of feelings of guilt, anger and betrayal.

Asking for forgiveness is one thing, but when our lives are blighted by sinful feelings, they sit deep within us and often never go away.  The sacrament of confession is exactly what this is about.  It is about helping our souls to heal from the things which have deeply hurt us and affected our lives.

Next week we will witness a number of people who have made the decision to change their lives by drawing closer to God in the sacraments of baptism and confirmation.  These are sacraments that can only be conferred once.  But confession, or reconciliation is always available, and lent is a good time to think about making yours.  If you haven’t done so before and would like some help, just ask me.  We have to play our part in letting our Lord be the fulfilment of the law and the prophets.  And this is one step you can all make on your journey.

Fr Duncan's Sermon on the 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Matthew 5 13-20

How to be a good parish priest?  This is the question which lies at the heart of my ministry and no doubt the ministry of hundreds of faithful Christians who are called to this role.

It isn’t an easy life.  I get a bit fed up at times with the jokes from lay people about only working on Sundays and having 6 days off.  I am sure there are lazy priests, but I don’t think I know any personally.   And then there is the reality of the frustration and guilt I feel about people.  Wardens, altar servers, musicians, those who serve morning tea, the flower guild, the welcomers.  There are so many people in a church community that there is always someone I am worried about, and someone I forget about.  Someone I didn’t say hello to and someone who has said or done something I don’t agree with.

 When I read St Paul’s 1st letter to the Corinthians I think he experienced all these things.  He was so busily trying to bring people to Christ that his frustration and despair sometimes can be seen in his writings.  Look at the passage we hear this morning.  It is from his 1st letter to the Corinthians.

The church in Corinth was very important to St Paul.  Tradition holds that he founded the church there and he had a major epiphany here.  It was in Corinth that Paul decided to shift his teaching to be more focused to the gentiles.  He was fed up of the constant refusal by the Jewish leaders to accept him in the synagogues. 

And so he went on his missionary journeys. By the time he got to Ephesus word reached him that his church in Corinth was growing. But people were arguing and frustrated with each other.  They were looking for solutions to theological issues which were complex and needed leadership.  They was no doubt gossiping and in-fighting and Paul was fed up.  In Ephesus, whilst building the church we hear of in Ephesians, Paul writes to the church in Corinth and says,

2 When I came to you, brothers and sisters,[a] I did not come proclaiming the mystery[b] of God to you in lofty words or wisdom. 2 For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. 3 And I came to you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling. 4 My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom,[c] but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power, 5 so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.

Just listen the frustration in this passage.  Read it carefully and you can hear Paul saying something like this.

Listen folks, when I came to you, I worked really hard to try and make this about Jesus.  Not about me, Paul, but about Jesus.  I didn’t use big words or try to make out I am better than you.  I looked for Jesus Christ in every one of you and I found him.  I found him in your brokenness and your beauty.

And you know what, it isn’t easy doing this stuff.  It scares me so much that I get the shakes and panic attacks.  But before I speak, I always pray to God that he might use me as a vessel.  I pray that his words might come through, not mine.  And when that happens, and I believe it does, you are building your faith, your church on God’s will not mine.

Now compare this to our modern church.  How often do we see and hear, at every level of the church, that people are disagreeing and arguing?  Throughout the generations tensions between Christians have featured time and time again resulting in schism after schism. 

This parish has seen its fair share of these kind of behaviours, and one has to ask the question, no matter how grave the situation is, is arguing, is defying, is fostering disagreement and disdain God’s will for us?  Does God want us to be so single minded that we do so to the exclusion of the rest of the church?

St Paul decided to know nothing among us except Jesus Christ and him crucified.  He came trembling in weakness and fear.

This week the news from England is not great.  But it is not the strikes and poverty I am referring too.  The Church of England has returned after 6 years of debate and discovery with a landmark ruling which will permit a legalised form of words to bless those who are in same-sex relationship.  I was heavily involved in the process, and lead training in my own diocese which was attended by people from a wide range of backgrounds.  The church was wrestling with complicated issues of gender identity and sexuality.  At the heart of this was the idea that marriage can only be for a man and a woman for life.

We worked hard to explore the issues from every theological angle and do so in a respectful and honest way.  For the first time, those who had the loudest voices were expected to listen to those who had the quietest,  and all of us learnt to grow together.

I felt the process was productive and I was honoured to lead sessions.  The eventual outcome was predicted by many: no change to ecclesiastical law, marriage between a man and a woman remains, but a change to the subtext of the church and its teaching.  The Church of England will now formally bless those in a same sex relationship.  Of course, as a priest I have always been able to bless whomsoever I choose, but the fact that the Church of England is now formally acknowledging that same sex relationships can be blessed and creating a liturgy for it is challenging for many. 

Regardless of what you believe about this issue, the sad reality is that after 6 years of hard and committed work much of the rhetoric has degenerated into a bun fight, embarrassingly reported in the media and online.

So what would St Paul say to the Church of England this week?  Something like this perhaps.

            My Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ.

When we began this process six years ago I spoke about the need to love each other and find a way to respect our differences.  I spoke carefully and used words that I had considered and prayed about.  I chose them so as not to cause hurt or offence.  I did not try to persuade you about anything other than my love for you in Christ Jesus.

So please stop hurting each other and understand that we are declaring God’s wisdom as it lives among his people.   Love one another even when it is hard to do so and focus on that which God has revealed to us, the Body of Christ.

Here in Australia things are different.  I choose to minister in a catholic parish in a liberal diocese.  It is an uneasy truce that has developed over the years, but it seems to have held well recently.

We are about to undergo some change in our Diocesan Leadership.  Archbishop Aspinall has gone, and the process to find a new Archbishop is beginning.  It could mean choppy waters for us in the future.  Or it could mean there are opportunities we have not had in a generation to build new bridges and tell a different story about All Saints’.  I wonder what St Paul would say to us?  I wonder what he we say to me? And to you?

Fr Duncan's Sermon 30th Sunday (c)

One of the great things about being in an Anglican is the fact that we have the use of a lectionary. This is the cycle of readings that cover every single day of the year and tell us what to read. It is so helpful because it usually themes readings and helps us make links between the Old and New Testaments. If you don’t have access to one and would like to give it a try then I would thoroughly recommend the one we use here; do ask for more details.

Sometimes it is hard to find the theme of the readings, and sometimes it is easy. Today is one of the easier days I am pleased to say. But before we speak about the meaning of the texts, I wonder how many of you noticed that our first reading was the source of great debate and controversy. Well, not the specific reading to be exact, but the book from which it is taken.

Ecclesiasticus is part of what we Anglicans call the Apocrypha. We don’t often hear readings from it at Mass, and I thought it might be interesting to explore why. You may remember a couple of weeks ago I spoke of the origins of our texts. There were hundreds of different texts being used in different churches throughout the Christian world.

Origen of Alexandria, commented on this in his writings. He was a great scholar and theologian who was born in Alexandria in Egypt, but travelled extensively through the area we now know as the Holy Land. He died in Tyre, which is in Lebanon, north of modern-day Palestine. Origen is an amazing character to learn about and there is much I could say here, but I don’t have time and must not stray from my point. If you don’t know who he is, please have a look at him and his life online, or come and read some of those books downstairs in the library next to my office! Points will be awarded to those of you who can tell me what Origen’s greatest contribution to the Christian faith is. It is a legacy that ultimately caused great debate and change.

Anyway, Origen noticed that some of the writings he encountered as he journeyed were of, as he put it, were of questionable value. He used the word ἀποκρύφοις apocrophois to describe these texts. One of the problems of course is understanding what he meant by this word. In Origen’s time, the word almost certainly meant “secret” or “hidden” and it was used to describe works that were considered so profoundly divine that they should be kept from those who were not holy enough to see them.

But Origen seems to use the word differently, he describes a body of texts which he believes are questionable in terms of authenticity and meaning. One of the most interesting legacies of Origen’s views on the Bible are the books that very nearly didn’t make it in. Songs of Songs, or the Wisdom of Solomon, which I think is the most stunningly beautiful text in the Bible, was actually nearly excluded because Origen considered it may be against the true faith. It is basically about love and sex, so it’s good to know that this caused as many arguments 2000 years ago as it does know!

Because of the work of scholars like Origen, and subsequently Tertullian and Clement who developed Origen’s ideas, the word apocrophois, or as we say, Apocrypha came to be re-defined as meaning of doubtful origin, or obscure in meaning. This mattered, because these were the times when there was great turmoil in the church as it began to develop doctrines based on scriptures. So, you can understand why agreement on which scriptures were holy and true was much debated.

Over time the word canon came into usage. It describes the body of the core texts which form the Bible. After Origen, Tertullian, Clement and others had wrestled with the issues; the Bishops of the early church weighed in and met to agree once and for all on what should be included. This was the Council of Rome, and it took place in 382. It agreed a list of books which formed the catholic, or universal Bible.

However, various schisms have occurred along the way and the one that affects us today is the Reformation. In the years leading up to the Reformation there was again much turmoil in the church and disagreement about which books should be considered as core texts. The bishops had another big meeting, this time The Council of Trent, in 1546 and re-affirmed the scriptures they considered to be canonical. And this was when things began to drift. The re-formers wanted change and rejected the texts they did not consider to be authentic. And that is when Protestant Bibles began to be published.

Nowadays, the Anglican church, famous for its desire to find a via media, a middle way, to bridge the gap if you like, chooses to identify these texts as being worthy of study and inspired by God. They do not form part of our core texts, but they occasionally appear in our lectionary. And that is what where we find our first lesson today which is from Ecclesiasticus. Just to confuse us, the Roman Church call this book Sirach, because the author of the text is accredited as Ben Sira, hence Sirach.

The book is very similar in its content and layout to the Book of Proverbs. It belongs to a body of work we refer to as the Wisdom texts. Wisdom is a very interesting concept in the Old Testament. Wisdom was often personified, and usually in the female form. This is fascinating as we so often think of women in Old Testament times as housewives and mothers, yet some of our greatest texts point to Wisdom as feminine, divinely inspired, and teaching on the issues of the day.

In our text from Ecclesiasticus we are told:

12 Give to the Most High as he has given to you, and as generously as you can afford. For the Lord is the one who repays, and he will repay you sevenfold.

Compare this to the message we hear in our Gospel. Last week in our reading, you may remember that Jesus used the image of the persistent widow to describe faith.

He goes straight on to teach the same group of people about their responsibility. 2 men, 1 a tax collector the other a Pharisee go to pray. The Pharisee is a pious man, he follows the law, takes care to maintain his ritual cleanliness and fasts twice a week. He gives thanks that he has possessions and money and gives a 10th of his income. But the tax collector is too ashamed to enter the temple. He beats his chest and tries to repent for his sinful behaviour.

Jesus tells his followers that it is the tax collector who is justified because

all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.

Compare these messages from Sirach and Luke. Do they say the same thing? The proverb tells us that when we give to God as he has given to us, God will repay us sevenfold. Surely that is what the Pharisee is doing? He tithes his income, he follows the law? Yet the sinful tax collector seems to come out better.

You see, none of us can live a truly pious life. We are all sinners, no matter how hard we try not to be. But the often overly simplistic message of the Old Testament times got the Jews into a lot of bother. God isn’t binary; it isn’t as simple as giving your money and doing good deeds or facing divine punishment. It is God’s will for us that we should follow him unconditionally and this begins with our hearts. When we open them to God, we realise that nothing is too difficult for him. The deep shame and pain so many of us feel, as well as the feelings of being better than the poor, the needy, the uneducated, the vanity of mind and body, the abuse of ourselves and others, these are the things that we need to face up to. The tax collector opened his heart to God humbly and honestly. He was so broken, he couldn’t even raise up his eyes to heaven.

We have the opportunity to meet God in a number of ways. But being open and honest about our failings and seeking God’s forgiveness is hard. If you are feeling happy and comfortable in your Christian faith, then you need to do a bit of work and examine your hearts. Try to live in a cycle of grace. Take time everyday to consider your actions and the impact you have on others. Be a little more humble, forgive as you are forgiven, and meet God in Word and Sacrament.