Listening For Love

May I speak in the name of the One God who is Speaker, Word and Breath. Amen.

I don't know if Anna and Laurie knew when they booked today for Matthew's baptism, but today is Good Shepherd Sunday - a perfect day to welcome one of the newest members of our flock. 

The shepherding imagery weaves through the readings and feels quite familiar and reassuring

In the reading from Acts we hear what life looks like for that first community of Christians when they have heard and followed Jesus. They live together, sharing everything, eating, worshipping and working alongside one another. 

If we read the psalm for today it would unsurprisingly be Psalm 23 - a reminder that we’re known by God, and that God wishes to keep us safe.

But when we listen closely things really aren’t that cosy at all. In the gospel, Jesus is talking about thieves and bandits, about danger and about voices that can’t be trusted. Jesus says sheep need to learn the difference between the voice of the shepherd and those who might wish them harm.

He seems to be implying that there are those who claim to love God, to follow God, and to know God’s will, but aren’t really recognising the true voice of God. Jesus was preaching this at the temple, surrounded by Pharisees and others who definitely didn’t recognise his voice as the voice of God.

Now, sheep get a bad press. Being called a sheep for us usually means being accused of not thinking for ourselves or blindly following the crowd. But we might not be as different from sheep as we’d like to think.

Sheep have actually been proven to be pretty intelligent – they can recognise different faces, they have impressive memories and they experience a wide range of emotions. But when sheep are scared they panic, they behave irrationally.

They cluster, or scatter, or run towards danger, basically losing all sense of direction. And that feels… uncomfortably familiar.

We Humans tend to make our worst decisions when we’re scared. Fear makes us reactive, narrows our judgement, and makes us more likely to listen to voices we’d ignore at other times - and there are always people willing to exploit our fear.

Jesus names them plainly: thieves and bandits — those who don’t enter by the gate, who don’t care for the sheep, who take and scatter and destroy. We don’t need to look very far all these centuries later to hear the voices still exploiting our fears.

They’re the voices that tell us to fear the poor who’ll take more than they deserve, the outsider whose differences from us make them a threat, and the foreigner who threatens and takes. These voices tell us generosity is weakness, that compassion is naïve yet proclaim faith while preaching exclusion.

And those voices can be incredibly loud – and that volume can be amplified by wealth, influence, certainty, and power. The danger is that our fear can make their voices start to sound like wisdom.

Jesus tells us about the Good Shepherd – who loves, protects and leads the flock: “The sheep follow him, because they know his voice.” They might not know the path, or the terrain could be tricky, but the sheep know it’s the right way to go. They put their faith in the one leading them.

The shepherd’s voice never leads by fear. It doesn’t cause the sheep to scatter, or trample the weak for the sake of the strong. The shepherd’s voice leads towards the abundant life Jesus wants for each of us.

Now I’m a massive fan of The Chosen – I’m sure I’ve mentioned it in sermons before, I’ve told Huw to watch it as well, but he’s probably forgot. It’s an incredibly well-made TV series which depicts Jesus’ life, beginning with leaving the wilderness to start his ministry and the 5th series that came out last year finished with Judas’ betrayal – I rewatched the whole thing through Lent.

During the 4th series we see the scene from today’s gospel taking place on the temple steps, and it results in Jesus and the disciples being the victims of an attempted stoning by the Pharisees who are calling Jesus out, appalled at what they call blasphemy. Big James is quite badly injured, and they’re forced to retreat to their lodging house. And they’re scared.

The reality of how dangerous their ministry is hits them.

They realise that whilst they all believe that Jesus is the Messiah, not everyone will believe, not everyone will hear and understand, and some may even be threatened to the point where they want to kill those bringing the message.

It’s a moment of hate and violence as a response to a message of love, and I think that’s still the way some people respond when confronted with the true message of Jesus’ teaching, where the poor, the orphaned, the widowed, the sick, the tax collectors, people with questionable pasts and those cast out through illness are all equally loved and held up in God’s eyes; and to do God’s work is to care for the sick, the prisoner, the marginalised. 

This message of love and inclusion will always threaten those who benefit from exploiting our fears.

Which brings us, uncomfortably, to leadership. Today being Good Shepherd Sunday, is a day we inevitably think about those who have leadership and pastoral responsibility – whether in churches, in communities, or in the public eye.

Like Pope Leo, who recently seemed to become a threat to some powerful people by simply preaching the gospel. It takes courage for our Christian leaders to speak so clearly about love, justice, human dignity, and truth - especially when that brings them into tension with those who the world sees as powerful.

And it takes courage to resist those voices that trade in fear, to refuse a rhetoric of exclusion, violence and dominance, and to declare that our faith can’t be used as a weapon.

It takes courage knowing there will be a backlash, and part of that may well come from within the church. But finding that courage, knowing you must speak up to the fear-mongers, sounds like someone listening for and responding to the shepherd’s voice.

But not all those in leadership have this courage. Sometimes leaders are the same people preying upon our fears.

Jesus tells us something else in the gospel; “I am the gate.” This is a reminder to everyone – those who lead with fear but also us, who may think we’ve got it right, that we’re following Jesus the right way, which might lead us to have strong feelings against, or even hate, those who we think are getting it wrong.

The sheep don’t get to decide who comes through the gate, nor do the shepherds who came after Jesus and neither does the church.

Jesus alone decides who’s in and who’s out. 

He is the gate. 

And whenever we forget that - whenever we start deciding whose lives matter, whose suffering can be ignored, whose dignity is conditional – we’ve stopped listening to the right voice and we’re no longer following the shepherd.

When there are so many voices competing to be heard - political voices, religious voices, media voices, voices of friends, family and colleagues - which voices sound most like love?

Which voices speak about mercy rather than suspicion?

Which voices gather us together rather than scattering us apart?

Which voices speak of lifting up the most vulnerable rather than asking who deserves our help?

As we baptise Matthew this morning, what voices do we want him and our church family to hear as they grow in love, faithfulness and discipleship?

That is how we discern the shepherd’s voice – it leads towards love and leaves fear behind. It guides us into living an abundant life.

So I pray we resist voices that trade in fear. And even if the path is a bit rocky, or unfamiliar, may we have the courage - like sheep who trust their shepherd - to follow where God’s love leads.

Amen.

Fourth Sunday of Easter

The Collect:

O God, whose Son Jesus is the good shepherd of your people: Grant that when we hear his voice we may know him who calls us each by name, and follow where he leads; who, with you and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

First Lesson: Acts 2:42-47

42They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. 43Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. 44All who believed were together and had all things in common; 45they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. 46Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, 47praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.

Psalm: Psalm 23

1 The Lord is my shepherd; *

       I shall not be in want.

2 He makes me lie down in green pastures *

       and leads me beside still waters.

3 He revives my soul *

       and guides me along right pathways for his Name’s sake.

4 Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

  I shall fear no evil; *

       for you are with me;

       your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

5 You spread a table before me in the presence of those who trouble me; *

       you have anointed my head with oil,

       and my cup is running over.

6 Surely your goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, *

       and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Second Lesson: 1 Peter 2:19-25

19For it is a credit to you if, being aware of God, you endure pain while suffering unjustly. 20If you endure when you are beaten for doing wrong, what credit is that? But if you endure when you do right and suffer for it, you have God’s approval. 21For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in his steps. 22“He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth.” 23When he was abused, he did not return abuse; when he suffered, he did not threaten; but he entrusted himself to the one who judges justly. 24He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that, free from sins, we might live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed. 25For you were going astray like sheep, but now you have returned to the shepherd and guardian of your souls.

Gospel: John 10:1-10

1“Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit. 2The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. 3The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. 5They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.” 6Jesus used this figure of speech with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them. 7So again Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. 8All who came before me are thieves and bandits; but the sheep did not listen to them. 9I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. 10The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.

All means all

May I speak in the name of the One God, Speaker, Word and Breath. Amen.

Today is Disability Awareness Sunday, coming at the end of Disability Awareness Week, which began last Sunday. It’s a day when hundreds of churches focus on disability inclusion within churches, what it means and what it might look like.

The Christian Disability Awareness organisation Through The Roof tell us “churches are often not aware of the many barriers disabled people can face on their journey to join, or be fully included, in church communities. Accessibility of church buildings isn’t the only barrier – there are lots of social and attitude barriers too, which are easy to overlook.

In a UK survey by Scope, 2 out of every 3 people said they felt ‘uncomfortable’ speaking with disabled people, and 3 out of every 4 disabled people reported experiencing negative attitudes or behaviour from others.” Just yesterday Mike and myself popped into Nandos for lunch, the young man we met at the door looked flustered by Mike being in a wheelchair and never once spoke to him directly.

I wasn’t sure if I was the right member of our team to preach today, even though I live in a household with multiple disabilities – some more obvious, others more hidden, their stories aren’t my story to tell. 

As many of you know our team has a variety of lived experience with disability, so if anything I say doesn’t feel correct then I welcome you and anyone here with lived experience to challenge and question, that’s how we grow together as a community.

And there’s another caveat I want to add – disability is a word with such enormous scope. It covers physical differences – congenital or acquired, surgical or degenerative - some of these are more obvious than others. It covers sensory deficits – hearing and sight being the most common but conditions which cause loss of sensation in the hands or feet can be hugely challenging in day-to-day life – how we turn the pages of a hymn book or climb the step to the communion rail can limit church inclusion.

There’s intellectual disabilities (a term I don’t like but I don’t know a better one), mental health conditions and neurodivergences – a category so broad and individual that each person’s needs will be vastly different, this makes it hugely difficult to know how to be the inclusive space and community which meets such a vast range of difference.

In our gospel reading today Jesus tells us that if we welcome a child we welcome him. Many preachers take this example and speak of the innocence and simplicity of children, that with the disciples argument about greatness the greatest is actually the person often considered the least, but others have read this symbolic act differently.

Professor Eugene Boring, in his commentary on Mark, writes, “In the first-century Mediterranean world, the characteristic feature of children was not thought to be their innocence, but their lack of status and legal rights. Jesus is not teaching a lesson about being child-like but speaking to the issue of status. 

Embracing children, contrary to their cultural evaluation as nonpersons with no ‘rights,’ was characteristic of the historical Jesus and early Christianity, who accepted the least and the lowly without asking what benefit they could receive from such people. Placing a child in their midst, Jesus speaks directly to the disciples. The child is not a prop or visual aid for a lesson Jesus wants to teach but belongs with the congregation; those who receive [even a child] receive Jesus, and those who receive Jesus receive the one who sent him.”

Now I don’t want to patronise, other or misrepresent, and I don’t consider people with disabilities to be “the least”. Many, maybe most, people with disabilities in the UK feel empowered and fulfilled, able to live full lives with some appropriate adjustments. Coming off the back of the Paralympics we know what can be achieved when funding and support are given where it’s needed (and hopefully Team GBs results give us hope we’re doing something right), but we also know that when cuts are made to government spending or local services, people with disabilities are disproportionally affected, and poverty disproportionately affects people with disabilities.

We know our world, our buildings and public spaces, outside of compulsory legislation, are designed for able-bodied neurotypical people – something we wouldn’t even notice until it becomes an issue.

There’s also a darker side to the way public life and policy affects people with disabilities - NHS and benefit cuts, the pandemic, the way PIP and Disability Living Allowance are assessed and awarded have all led to disproportionate numbers of excess deaths, partially due to not receiving timely or appropriate care but also people have taken their own lives due to the additional physical and psychological strain put upon them. They have been made to feel, like the child in our gospel reading, like nonpersons with no rights.

In the gospel reading Jesus tells his disciples that greatness in God’s eyes comes from being a servant to all, and for today our focus is on how we serve people with disabilities both inside and outside of our community.

We’ve made a step towards this service by joining the Inclusive Church Network. Their statement, which we aim to follow, is “We believe in inclusive church – a church which celebrates and affirms every person and does not discriminate.

We will continue to challenge the church where it continues to discriminate against people on grounds of disability, economic power, ethnicity, gender, gender identity, learning disability, mental health, neurodiversity, or sexuality.

We believe in a Church which welcomes and serves all people in the name of Jesus Christ; which is scripturally faithful; which seeks to proclaim the Gospel afresh for each generation; and which, in the power of the Holy Spirit, allows all people to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Jesus Christ.”

To concentrate on serving and welcoming all, we’ve begun to look at our building, materials and services. We’ve undertaken extensive risk assessments which try and account for multiple areas of disability, and they’ve been undertaken by people with disabilities. 

Being a part of the Inclusive church network doesn’t mean we’ve got it sussed – especially with a very old and listed building to account for – but it’s a journey, a statement of intention and we know there’s going to be bumps along the way. We also know with the huge scope of disabilities we’ll miss something, so we rely upon our relationships as a community and the disclosure of our community, to tell us where we can do better or even where we’re getting it wrong. 

This takes all of us and it takes a commitment to noticing and to communicating.

There’s another aspect to being an Inclusive church and that’s challenging the systems, whether that’s church systems or the wider systems of government and legislation. 

To relate this to how we tackle for example racism, we know it’s not enough to not be racist, we need to be actively anti-racist, challenging behaviours and systems which discriminate or oppress, and lifting the voices of those affected.

Within our community we have representation within the Diocese disability group, but it takes more than that one person. 

To actively serve people with disabilities we need to be actively anti-ableist, to challenge behaviours and systems which discriminate or oppress them and find ways of raising up their voices to be heard, using the privilege of able-bodied people to lift up those who ableism affects. 

And this takes each one of us, it takes awareness and a knowledge that being servants of all means ALL. 

Amen.

Where do we fit in?

Preached this morning both in church and on Zoom- until the Internet booted me off before I'd finished! Based on Matthew 16.13-20  and Romans 12.1-8

If you’ve been listening to my sermons for a while now you may remember that I have a lot of affection for Simon Peter. We see him today given his nickname, Peter, The Rock, “Rocky”, which I think rather suits his temperament; he’s hot headed and punchy, not really given to thinking before he speaks or acts.

Yet it’s by not thinking too hard and going by his gut instinct that leads Peter to be the one disciple who’s able to answer Jesus’ question correctly.

“and who do you say that I am?”

“you are the Messiah, the son of the living God”

No deep contemplation, he just blurts out what comes into his head; and he’s right!

Jesus then names Peter first amongst equals, and he becomes a defining figure in the early church. He was the first to be called, the first we usually see named in lists of apostles and the one from whom Paul seeks approval from as he sets out on his own mission, even though they have disagreements.

For all his paradoxes and contradictions Peter becomes a unifying figure, at the centre of the vision of a community of faith, central to Paul’s vision of the one body, the perfect example of how it takes people of every kind to build that community.

The body image is the illustration of the perfect inclusive church where no one is excluded, we all fit in somewhere. Both the person of Peter and the vision of Paul serve to give us hope that no matter what our faults or differences, God has a place for us.

And yet we continually see a society which normalises exclusion, whether consciously or unconsciously, and faith communities which mirror this. No matter where we go, which communities we move in, there’s some sense of what’s acceptable and what’s unacceptable, what helps you to “fit” and what draws attention to the ways in which you don’t fit in. Body size, disability, sexuality, gender, age, race; not being neurotypical, level of education, marital status, financial status. These are all elements of ourselves which may have made us feel included or excluded.

My vision is that we’re working on building a community here where each and every one of us feels safe, valued and accepted, particularly if that’s not something we’re used to experiencing in the wider world. Paul’s vision reminds us that God is so big as to be able to accommodate each and every one of us.

To truly build up a fully inclusive community we have to look at ourselves as an institution, and face that there were times, and may still be, when the church has been on the wrong side of history, has colluded with worldly powers and has rejected and excluded in the name of the one who welcomes all and excludes no-one.

But, like Peter’s, ours is a redemption story – remember this is the man who after these events goes on to deny Jesus and then be forgiven. 

There’s a reason why our services have an act of confession built into them- we only grow by acknowledging our mistakes and failings. To love as God loves we need to see ourselves as God sees us, that includes knowing we each are loved AND being honest about the times we ourselves have not been loving, whether individually or collectively. 

Peter’s life, as the first, unifying head of the church, is a good metaphor for the history of the church and of Christianity. We’ve got things wrong, we’ve rejected Christ for our own interests; we’ve got things right and recognised the activity of God when we’ve seen it. The church has at times been unstable, tactless and impetuous, at times been faithful and filled with love and life-giving.

Peter’s life also gives me hope for the church- and for myself. It took many years and many mistakes for him to become who he became. We share his faults and failings, so we can also share in his successes and ability to see Jesus for exactly who he is. And Jesus never rejects Peter, even when he himself is rejected. That’s my ideal of how we live and respond to the world around us, always trying our best to love and welcome the world even when it doesn’t seem to love or welcome us.

My vision of a loving and inclusive community does reject something- it rejects our inability to disagree courteously and reduce each argument or disagreement to binaries- wrong or right, black or white. This vision of inclusion embraces nuance and debate and discussion. It’s a place where minds and hearts as well as its doors are open.

Showing the love of Christ and modelling what it can look like to truly live out the love which pours from God hopefully means we open up the hearts and minds of others to what’s possible when we stop trying to divide, separate and exclude. 

I want this to be a place where there’s no rules about who does or doesn’t fit in, because we all do. I get a daily email with a reflection from The Society of St John the Evangelist. On Thursday Br. Curtis wrote: we’re all different from one another: different gifts and needs, which is what God uses to knit us together. Our distinctive gifts and distinctive needs are intended to complement one another, not intended for either competition or conflict.

And on Friday Br. Nicholas wrote we all belong to Christ. If we fully surrender to God’s love and mercy, then how can we judge and despise each other? When we love one another with open hearts, without judging, without creating separation where none need exist, that’s when were letting Christ’s light shine as God lives through us. 

Amen.

Who Then is This Part 2

I had the joy of preaching at a baptism this morning, the gospel reading was Luke's version of something I prepared a three minute homily on from Mark's gospel last summer. This sermon takes that and develops it more fully. The reading is Luke 8:22-25

Have you ever experienced a storm at sea? It really is something. If I take us back through the time vortex 18 years Mike and myself were sailing back from Hamburg in a force 8 gale. Now I say “sailing” and it sounds really rather quaint but we were in this great big ship which must have been worlds apart from what our disciples are experiencing in today’s gospel reading.

We’d been woken in the night due to the rather vigorous motion of the boat and throughout the morning it just got worse and worse. It was a horrible feeling of everything being beyond our control, but it never really felt unsafe, the worst thing we had to deal with was some extreme motion sickness, particularly the group of 6th form students who’d been enjoying the cocktail lounge the night before.

It never felt like we were in danger, it was a big sturdy ship and we trusted our crew to get us back to the harbour safely. Although I have to say that this is just who I remember the events, if I think back really hard I’m sure we must have encountered some of our fellow passengers who were really panicking and anxious, I’m saying I felt safe but I have no idea how anyone else interpreted the situation, how frightened or anxious they were.

The sea and water, as we all know, can be deadly. It’s a metaphor we see again and again in scripture, particularly in the psalms and it’s interesting to look at the Jewish people’s relationship with the sea as a chaos which can envelope us or a darkness to be overcome. Yet the imagery of water in both the Jewish and our own tradition is very different- our baptism service is full of imagery of water as a power to cleanse and renew us- but there’s also the image of water as life-giving and sustaining, and of rebirth as the newly baptised, as Lexi will be today, are reborn to life in Christ.

We see in the gospel reading today that Jesus’ companions are really panicking about the storm they’re encountering, whilst Jesus seems oblivious. Jesus may have known that everything would be ok but the disciples don’t, and there’s experienced fisherman amongst them, they know how serious this can be and unlike me in my state of the art steel cruise liner this is presumably a reasonably small wooden boat, filling with water and at serious risk of sinking. By the time they wake Jesus up blind panic has set in…

…And then with a few words from Jesus chaos reverts to calm, order is restored and those who’ve witnessed it are left asking “who then is this?” Jesus is rebuking the disciples too, which makes me feel really sorry for them. They know the water, they know they can be killed, but they don’t know, don’t really know, that this man can stop it with a word. Yes they’re amazed and yes they’re afraid. They’ve been confronted with the reality of who Jesus is and that is both wonderful and terrifying.

If we travel back to the beginning of the Old Testament and the beautiful creation poem we see order coming out of disorder, God creating a world with a natural, created order, with rules – scientific rules of physics, biology and chemistry, although in creation there’re reminders that it’s still an ongoing process. Sometimes this still evolving planet gives us glimpses that chaos isn’t that far away; earthquakes, volcanoes, storms; we have better understanding than our ancestors of why and when these things can occur, but nothing in these seemingly chaotic occurrences breaks the rules of the world God has created.

What does break the rules is Jesus. Any abstract ideas or beliefs, or any theories his followers had have now stopped being theoretical, they’re confronted with an overwhelming display of power that can’t be reasoned or rationalised.

This man who looks like them, has a background like theirs, has a family like theirs, just rebuked the wind and sea, and the wind and sea listened. I think that would cause the disciples to be afraid of Jesus, and even more than that- to fear what this means, to generate more questions, because as they try to fathom “who then is this” they also have to confront “who then am I?” and “what does this mean for my life?”

When any of us is confronted with the reality of who Jesus is, that he’s from God and is God, it has to change us. We can’t know and believe that and then be left unchanged; because if we believe Jesus is who he shows us he is, we have to believe in the things that he said and did, and if we believe in those things we have to start living them; and that’s not easy. It can involve a total deconstruction and reconstruction of our lives, motivations and principles.

We can often feel like the disciples in the storm, overwhelmed by chaos, waiting for God’s intervention. Sometimes it feels like everything is out of control around us, and we look to see where God can possibly be in any of it and hope that God will calm the storm. Sometimes this passage is called the gospel for the overwhelmed, but there’s also a message there that God’s presence and intervention can be unnerving, as can the times when it feels God is napping during our own storms and crises.

Right now, the world on many levels feels like it’s in a time of flux, a time of chaos, whether that's politically, environmentally or spiritually. It’s a time that we more than ever need to set ourselves apart as being a part of something different, of belonging to Jesus, living out the truths he’s demonstrated to us. More than ever we need to honour the truth of who Jesus is; by standing with the marginalised, stewarding creation, loving and welcoming radically and with our entire lives. So much is beyond our control, but this isn’t, and when we bring a child to be baptised into the faith of Christ, as Abby and Alicia have today, this is the faith we’re offering, which we offer Lexi today.

Jesus asks “Where is your faith?” after the disciples witness his power. When we’re waiting out our own storms sometimes faith is all we have, and the knowledge that the gospel stories don’t end with “my God, why have you forsaken me?” but with God overcoming the very worst that humanity could do, and the disciples finally knowing, really knowing “who then is this”, and as we must be when we come to that truth, forever being changed by it.