Sermon by Canon Adrian Ling CMP, 23rd May 2021 Readings: Acts 2:1-11; Galatians 5:16-25; John 15:26-27,16:12-15 ‘Everything continues in a state of rest unless it is compelled to change by forces impressed upon it’, wrote Sir Isaac Newton in his first law of motion. Change often comes as a result of a crisis: after the First World War, council housing was introduced to create ‘homes fit for heroes’; after the Second World War, the national health service was founded; one wonders what momentous changes will come as a result of the coronavirus pandemic.
The Holy Spirit came at Pentecost following the crisis of the crucifixion of Jesus, and would could have been reckoned as the crisis of his leaving this world. However the Holy Spirit transformed the apostles, for the Spirit is the transforming power of God, the means by which the Christian can be challenged, inspired and enabled to change. At life-changing moments such as confirmation and ordination the Spirit is invoked: as the bishop lays on hands he requests the Spirit to confirm and consecrate. In the Eucharistic Prayer the Holy Spirit is invoked to change the bread and wine so that they become for us the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. That important moment, which we call the epiclesis is marked by the first ringing of the bell in our Mass. When the prophet Samuel anointed Saul he said that the Spirit of the Lord would come upon him and he would be changed into a different person. Saul was from the least significant clan of the smallest tribe of Israel, the tribe of Benjamin, but he was raised up to do great things in the power of the sprit. However Saul did not keep the commands of God, and so David was raised up to replace him. Isaiah speaks of the Spirit of the Lord resting upon the Messiah: the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and power, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. Jesus himself proclaimed that the Spirit of the Lord was upon him in the Nazareth synagogue, fulfilling the prophecy of Isaiah to the fury of his neighbours. The Holy Spirit is in us, among us and around us all. But we have to open our souls for him to transform us. St Hilary of Poitiers wrote that the Spirit is always available and given freely to all, however it is given in proportion to each person’s will to receive the Spirit. If we are not open to the Spirit, what the Spirit can do with us is limited. There is a chorus which says ‘Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me, melt me, mould me, fill me, use me.’ I had that played at my induction at Hemsby, before the Bishop of Norwich laid his hands on me. Unfortunately he didn’t know that Vera the organist had been told to play it three times, so twice his attempts to lay on hands were thwarted by Vera with full tremolo! The chorus sums up how the power of the Spirit works most effectively if we throw off our selfish desires and abandon ourselves to the Spirit, to be melted, moulded, filled and used. In order to be filled by the Spirit we need first to empty ourselves. As human beings we are filled with worldly preoccupations, but the Holy Spirit which God enshrines in us helps us to aspire to be more, to be better, holier people. St Paul in his letter to the Galatians talks about the Spirit and self-indulgence being at odds with one another. We may have good intentions but because we are weak, we give way to sin. But he says that we must stand firm and nail those self-indulgent passions and crucify them. What a vivid image that is, that we rid ourselves of our sins by nailing them to the cross. Though we may like the idea of progress, we may not like having to change. The Russian writer Leo Tolstoy wrote that ‘everyone thinks of changing the world but no one thinks of changing himself.’ We may perceive faults and failings all around us, but fail to recognize our own personal need to change. And even if we do, we may find all sorts of reasons and excuses not to change. Mahatma Gandhi recommended that we should be the change we want to see in the world. None of us is completely without influence. St Paul says that if we are governed by the Holy Spirit then we will receive the gifts of the Spirit and grow in holiness and bear fruit. It is not always easy to be good or holy, it takes effort and persistence and we cannot do it through our strength alone but if we will let him in, the Spirit can help to change us, to transform us into the Lord’s likeness with ever-increasing glory.
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Sermon by Fr. Joshua Bell SSC, Sunday 16th May Readings: Acts 1:15-17,20-26; 1 John 4:11-16; John 17:11-19 On Friday the church celebrated St Matthias’s Day.
If the apostles were a cricket team, he’s the twelfth man – he’s only really heard about here. But he is a faithful follower of Jesus, throughout his earthly ministry, and so he is shortlisted as one of the people to replace Judas. In the Gospel Jesus prays for the Apostles, that they may be “consecrated in the truth.” This prayer is offered, Jesus later goes on to say, not only for the Apostles, but also for all who will believe on their account – that’s you and me. To consecrate something literally means to make it holy. The word of God is the truth which makes us holy. But for Christians, consecration is the setting apart of something holy for a particular reason. Bishops are consecrated in order to begin their ministry. An altar in a church will be consecrated – set apart for use in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. It’s this setting apart that makes it an altar, and not simply a table or a surface to lean on. And of course, in the Mass the consecration is the point at which the ordinary stuffs we bring to that altar – bread, wine, water – are set apart, they are made holy. They’re no longer mere foodstuffs, but the vessels for the body and blood of Christ himself. So if we who are Christians are consecrated in the truth, what does that mean? Over the years various groups have tried to work this out. My brother Joe lives near a large number of Amish settlements. They are extreme Protestants who have set themselves almost entirely apart from the rest of the world around them, to form a Christian community in isolation from what they see as the heathen world outside. But Jesus’s prayer isn’t that his followers are removed from the world. We aren’t to go through life with the shutters down, not looking at the outside world – or even looking out at it and shaking our head at it. That wasn’t the life that Jesus lived, and it wasn’t the life that the early church lived. One of St. Paul’s letters talked about how to respond if a non-Christian host invited you to a dinner party – St. Paul’s correspondents were worried because the standard practice was that meat sold in the market was usually offered to an idol first. The fact that this question arose shows us that Christians have never been ones to keep to their own – and St. Paul doesn’t tell them to avoid the dinner party either, but merely to keep their consciences pure. This is what Jesus means when he prays – not that the disciples are removed from the world but that they are protected from the evil one. What does that mean for us? Well, I think that have the freedom to enjoy the good things in life – and there are many of them! G. K. Chesterton, the Catholic author of the last century, used to say that in Catholicism, “the pipe, the pint, and the Cross all come together,” and while Public Health England might not agree about the first of those three things, we are free to enjoy the good things that God has given us – art, music – not just sacred music but all sorts! To be consecrated in the truth means having the life of God within us, as St. John writes in the second reading. God has loved us so much! – and we should love one another, too – for if we do, God will live in us. To love one another means having a two-way relationship with the world around us. We absorb what is good from it – but we give back to it, too. We often talk about leaving the world a better place than we found it – perhaps we can try to leave the world a little more Christlike, too – by sharing God’s love, and his truth, with others, by helping those in need, by challenging what is evil in our world: in short, by bringing the light of Christ – the light of the world – to those places which are in darkness. That is what it means to be a witness to the resurrection of Jesus. That is what St. Matthias was. I began by talking about St. Matthias as the twelfth man of the Apostles – the substitute about whom not much is heard. But perhaps I judged him unfairly – because the Holy Spirit judged him as worthy of joining that glorious company. He was a faithful follower throughout Jesus’s ministry, he was a witness to the Resurrection, and he shed the light of Christ throughout the world. Let us, through our prayers, our words, and our deeds, do the same. Sermon by Canon Adrian Ling CMP, Sunday 9th May Readings: Acts 10:25-26,34-35,44-48; 1 John 4:7-10; John 15:9-17 Terms of endearment are different around the country: you might be addressed as ‘me duck’ in Derby, as ‘pet’ in the north-east, as ‘chuck’ in the north-west, or in Norfolk as ‘my beauty’; I particularly like going to a petrol station in the town where the Eastern European lady calls me ‘darlink’. Unfortunately these terms of endearment can fall foul of the politically correct police. A man has to be careful how he address a woman, and can get in trouble for calling a woman ‘love.’ This is sad because, for some, life can be made a little brighter by these terms of endearment.
Jesus says to the disciples ‘I call you friends’, but the word ‘friends’ does not really convey the original meaning, of ‘philos’ the Greek word used by John which is more like ‘beloved’, ‘those whom I love’. From that word ‘philos’ we derive the suffix ‘phile’ meaning ‘lover of’, as in ‘bibliophile’ (lover of books) or ‘anglophile’ (lover of the English). Our English word ‘friend’ is also derived from the Anglo-Saxon verb ‘to love,’ but it has lost its connotation of love, because in our culture love is usually reserved for romantic partners, spouses or family members. When Jesus tells the disciples that he calls them ‘friends’ he is not calling them his mates or his buddies, this is something much more profound. He loves these men and the love that he shows to them is the manifestation of the nature of God. They will experience the presence of God the Father through the love of his son. Jesus says he no longer calls them servants or slaves, those who have to obey orders without questioning them; there is more equality in their relationship. He shows them the love of God, he loves them with that same love and he orders them to carry on loving each other as he has loved them, that they may remain in that state of grace that constitutes remaining in his love. St John extends the theme in his first letter, where he says that whoever loves, knows God. They become children of God. Whoever lives in love lives in God and God lives in them. But he also lays down a warning not to deceive ourselves , anyone who says he knows God but does not obey the command to love, is a liar. St Jerome recorded how St John the Evangelist lived in Ephesus until extreme old age. His disciples could barely carry him to church and he could not muster the voice to speak many words. During individual gatherings he said little except , "Little children, love one another." Those in attendance, got rather annoyed because they always heard him say the same thing and so they asked, "Teacher, why do you always say this?" He replied: "Because it is the Lord's commandment and if that alone is kept, it is sufficient." The command to love is a great challenge because as St Peter comes to realize in the Acts of the Apostles, God does not have favorites. He does not love anyone more than anyone else. He does not pick and choose, and neither should the Christian. Not all friendships are the same, and with some people we feel naturally close, just like Jesus with Mary, Martha and Lazarus; people with whom we can be ourselves, with can freely share our feelings. It is said that a real friend is someone who knows the real you, but loves you just the same. A true friend is someone you know you can tell anything to, that you can ask for help and they will help you if they can. A true friend is someone who will tell you honestly what they think, though it may not be what you want to be told, it may be what you need to hear. It has to be admitted that some people are more difficult to love than others, however the Christian is not required to like anybody, however we are required by the Lord to love everybody. We cannot help the way people make us feel but we can have some control over these feelings that they evoke in us and our reactions to them. One of the messages that has come through this pandemic is ‘be kind’. In those terms of endearment we see a little joyful expression of the kindness born of a gracious heart; and if we are well-disposed towards those with whom we have dealings, with those known and unknown, with those we find easy and those we find difficult, if we are polite and friendly, patient and forebearing we show a hint of the all-encompassing love of God who has no favorites, and of the friendship that comes from knowing his son, Jesus Christ. Sermon by Fr. Joshua Bell SSC, Sunday 2nd May Readings: Acts 9:26-31; 1 John 3:18-24; John 15:1-8 Have you ever met a long-lost relative? Or had a family member move far away?
My brother Joe moved to the United States sixteen years ago – he had met a young lady from Pennyslvania. She was volunteering at a church in France that my church at the time had a link to. We went to this church for a weekend in 2001. Rachel was leading the children’s work and my younger sister Nardia, who would have been seven at the time, introduced her as “my friend Rachel.” They hit it off, got on well, exchanged email addresses, and kept in touch – and three years later, they married. Over the years Joe has made himself very much at home in America. His voice has changed and he’s picked up a bit of the accent. He’s started talking about strange things like sidewalks, tom-ay-toes, and aluminum. And a couple of years ago he finally got full American citizenship. Joe and I don’t get to see each other very often because of the distance between us and the cost of flights: but we are still brothers. When we do see each other in person every few years, we both have to adjust a bit, to the other’s way of thinking, mannerisms, get used to the changes that time has wrought on us. But we still have a great time together. The first time St. Paul came to Jerusalem after his conversion, he must have felt a bit like my brother. He must have struggled to fit in. And it’s not surprising. The last time the Christians in Jersualem saw St. Paul would probably have been the time that he held the coats for the men who stoned St. Stephen to death. To see him now, as one of them, well it must have been difficult to believe him, to trust him – and even when they did trust that he was genuine, it must have been difficult to get used to this persecutor being their brother in Christ. But we hear that they did, and over the years St. Paul becomes an integral part of the young Church. In our Gospel Jesus talks a lot about belonging. He tells us to make our home in him, to be part of him, as branches are part of a single vine. This metaphor Jesus uses is so striking, because it tells us everything we need to know about being a Christian. To be a Christian, to be a branch on this vine, we must be rooted in Christ. We must be part of him, and allow him to guide and direct our growth. Otherwise, we’ll be like a stick you find on the ground – cut off from its tree, and unable to grow or even survive – good only for firewood. But if we remain in him, then we grow, we produce fruit, we become healthier, stronger, and even more fruitful with pruning. One of the wonderful things about the Church, I think, is its diversity. It spans Christians of every age, every race, every skin colour, every socio-economic background. Like Joe and myself, we inhabit different cultures, speak different languages, but we are all sons and daughters of the same Father. We are all branches on the same vine. That was the bond that united St. Paul with the disciples in Jerusalem. That is the one bond that matters above every other bond: political affiliation, National Trust membership, whatever – no other bond can bind as closely as the bond between Christians. They say blood is thicker than water, but the water of the font is thicker even than the blood of the family. Families can fall apart, parents can separate – but as long as we remain united to Christ, as long as our home remains in him, then nothing can ever separate us. I am divine, says the Lord; you are dibranches. Sermon by Fr. Joshua Bell SSC, Sunday 25th April Readings: Acts 4:8-12; Psalm 118:1,8-9,21-23,26,28-29; 1 John 3:1-2; John 10:11-18 In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit: Amen.
What’s the most extraordinary, fancy, memorable thing you have ever been given? Perhaps it was a wedding or engagement ring, something that shines and sparkles? The true test of a gift, of course, isn’t the way it looks, or the price tag, or anything like that – a gift, a true gift, is symbolic of the love that inspires its giving. The most memorable gifts, the ones that mean the most to us, are often the ones which display this love. And love is at the heart of our readings today. I love the way St. John talks about God’s love in the second reading. Think of the love, he says, think of the love God has LAVISHED on us by letting us be called God’s children. It takes a lot for something to be called lavish. To me, it speaks of something that is way more than you’d expect. A fancy meal might be three courses, but a lavish meal…that’s eight courses, of the finest food you can imagine, with a different bottle of wine for each course, silver service, crystal wine glass. Something so amazingly beyond your expectations that it’s…mind blowing. Think what it means to be called a child of God. It means that God made the whole universe, he made the galaxies, the horsehead nebula and all the other wonders of creation; he made the world, the vastness of the sea and the beauty of the earth, he made humankind in his own image – and he caused us to discover music, literature. Beethoven’s symphonies, the poetry of Shakespeare, the deliciousness of your favourite food…and then he decided that the world needed one of you. And then he didn’t just create you to be a “thing” in his world, but he loved you as his son, as his daughter. It means that your life isn’t an accident, a fluke, it’s the result of God’s love. And it’s that same love that sustains us day by day, and which in the book of Acts caused the crippled man to be healed. We heard the first part of this wonderful story at Mass in the week of Easter – Peter and John are going up to the temple to pray, when a paralysed man asks them for money. Peter gives that wonderful response, “Silver and gold have I none – but in the name of Jesus Christ, get up and walk!” The man was begging, and he hoped to get some coins from them to keep himself fed that day, to keep himself alive. What he gets is more than he can possibly imagine – it’s an outpouring of God’s lavish love. And what about the gospel? That passage dripping in images of God’s love. Jesus is the good shepherd – the shepherd who cares for his sheep so much that he dies for them. I was moved a month or so ago by a photo from Myanmar, where of course those horrible scenes of violence have been taking place after the coup there. The crackdown on protests has been dreadful. As the heavily armed police moved in to stop the protest, Sister Ann Rose Nu Tawng knelt down in front of them, her arms spread in the shape of a cross, and begged the police to spare the protesters and to take her life instead. It’s much like the story of St. Maximilian Kolbe, who took the place of a man due to be executed in Auschwitz. Both of these followers of Jesus were following his example, the example of the Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for his sheep. How deep the Father’s love for us! How vast beyond all measure! That he should give his only Son to make a wretch his treasure! God’s love isn’t transactional – it’s not given in return for our obedience and faithfulness – after all, Christ dies for us while we were still rebelling against him. But it’s a love so powerful that it urges us to respond to it – to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength, and to love our neighbour, as God has loved us. Give thanks to the Lord for he is good, for his love has no end. |