Come and See

When was the last time that you just had to tell the world? When you got so enthusiastic about something – a new car that you couldn’t wait to demonstrate to a friend? A grandchild’s winning sprint posted on Facebook? Or even just boasting about the Jamie Oliver puddings you picked up for £2.50 in the post-Christmas sales?

 

In this reading from John’s gospel, Chapter 1 verses 43 to 51 the first disciples get so enthusiastic about meeting Jesus that they just have to tell someone. It invites us to think about how we meet Jesus today, what he means to us personally, and how we might invite others to him.

 

This church season of Epiphany focusses on Jesus being revealed, people discovering who he is. So several of the gospel accounts we read come from the beginning of his ministry. Here Jesus returns from the desert regions to Galilee and chooses his disciples. He’s already called Andrew and Peter, and in verse 43 he says to Philip ‘Follow me’.

 

And then something important happens. Philip finds Nathanael and says to him ‘We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote: Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.’ Philip has found Jesus. He searches out his friend Nathanael and full of enthusiasm, he shares his discovery, in his own words. Philip is the first ordinary person to tell someone else about Jesus. He does something so important – for if people everywhere will become part of the Kingdom of God, then one must tell another. We too can share our faith – it is a duty and a joy to do so.

 

But Philip’s efforts don’t meet with a warm response. ‘Nazareth? Can anything good from there?’ The place was totally unremarkable. About ten acres in size, with a population of 200 to 400 peasant farmers. They lived in houses which were half building, half cave burrowed into the soft rock. Can anything good come from there? But isn’t that the point? Precisely the place where God enters humanity at its humblest, identifies most closely with us by sharing human hardships. That’s what the incarnation is about – the dump is where God is most likely to be.

Rather wisely, Philip just replies ‘Come and see’. Give Jesus a chance, try him out and make up your own mind. Philip says ‘Come and find out for yourself. Experience and find out if it’s true.’

 

At Christmas we got given a board game – it was one of those that has complex symbols printed on a board, hundreds of little plastic shapes, piles of cards that all mean different things, and tiny tokens to punch out and lose. The instructions ran to a small booklet – two whole pages on just setting the game up!

 

Did we sit down and read the manual aloud to the assembled players? Did we work it through in our minds before we began to play? Of course not! We just started playing and found out the rules as we went. ‘Now it’s your turn. Move your token. Roll the dice. 7. What’s that mean? The plague – what are the rules for the plague?’ And so on.

 

Now there were some complaints that Daddy was finding new rules at times which suited him. Yet overall, it worked really well, and it was a fun, well designed game. Ok, for the first time we were a bit confused. But when we played it again, and again, we really got the hang of it.

 

It can often be the same when people encounter Jesus today. There is a proverb that people belong before they believe. In other words people appreciate the friendship of a Christian community, they are drawn to the joy and mystery of worship, they take part, even get stuck in – and then something of faith stirs and grows into understanding. People come and see, experience the living Christ, and then believe.

 

Even before someone comes through those doors, they will have seen the Kingdom of God at work in the world. Maybe the church’s work in a food bank or a Romanian orphanage, or a kind friend, will lead someone to take faith seriously, will help them realise that those words mean something. The Christian faith is experienced, desired, caught, which generates the willingness to learn and understand.

So for Christians, when we seek to share our faith, let’s remember that explanation is important – and it is made real by genuine experience of God’s love. It is fine to issue an invitation – which will be effective when it is backed up by a faith that making a difference in the world. Neither words nor actions are enough on their own. We must have both.

 

And then Jesus will do his own thing. I have learnt not to try and control people’s path to faith. For Jesus has his own way of dealing with each person. He knows them far more intimately than I do. So it is my place to watch and listen for what he is doing – speak the word in season, invite when the Holy Spirit prompts, challenge when appropriate, all the while trying to follow the lead of the Holy Spirit.

 

Jesus works his own particular way. The conversation in 47 onwards is rather odd. Jesus greets Philip with the words ‘Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit.’ In effect ‘Here’s a genuine bloke, there’s no messing about with this man. He’s an honest seeker.’

 

Nathanael seems to recognise this is fair, but he is surprised: ‘Where did you come to know me?’ Jesus replies ‘I saw you under the fig tree, before Philip called you.’ Apparently this is enough to convince Nathanael who immediately jumps to the astonishing conclusion ‘Rabbi you are the Son of God, you are the King of Israel!’

 

What’s going on here? V.50 suggests that Jesus had seen Nathanael by some kind of prophetic insight. A supernatural ability which combines with Philip’s words and the presence of Christ to convince Nathanael.

 

Probably also Nathanael is meant to be an example. He’s the open minded, fair, faith-filled and hopeful Jewish person waiting for the Messiah. Perhaps there were such people among the first recipients of the gospel. Perhaps they themselves were puzzled as to why so many of their fellow-Jews did not accept Jesus as the Messiah. Indeed the Christians had been expelled from the synagogues. Perhaps Nathanael is an example to them of what ought, what could be.

 

 

For us too, Nathanael reminds us that some people will get it. Jesus meets them and wham! Perhaps we may know people whose initial scepticism has been replaced by faith. Suddenly the Holy Spirit surprises us by what he can do in someone’s life. Meeting Jesus in worship, acts of service, prayer, stillness is incredibly powerful.

 

We have to face up to the fact that many Christians today, myself included, often have a negative assumption about how people will react when we speak about faith. We assume they won’t be interested. Or we give up at the first sign of reluctance, when maybe the invitation to come and see might be effective. Perhaps we are conditioned by the secular society around us not to share our faith or to be shy in doing so. In reality, folks are curious to find out about other people’s lives – if we share humbly and don’t lecture we often get an interested hearing.

 

Perhaps also we think that the people around us know about Christianity. We’ve all been brought up with it, we heard it all at school. What can I tell them that’s new? For starters, you’d be surprised what people don’t know! And for those who feel they’ve been there and done that, a radical servant Christianity brings them up short and makes them realise that the Kingdom of God changes lives.

 

Perhaps faith seems too big a thing to convey – after all it’s easy enough to enthuse about a bottle of wine – but faith is so life changing and so big it’s hard to sum up adequately. So maybe the answer is to try and convey a bit at a time. To respond to ‘how do you cope?’ with a personal explanation of the real difference faith makes in that situation. To be ready to explain the particular life choices we make due to faith. And to be ready to say ‘Come and see’ – not try and fix it with our explanations but invite people onto their own journey of discovery.

 

Bringing people to encounter Jesus, giving birth to faith is ultimately the Spirit’s work. Our role is to pray, listen, serve, speak, invite and accompany. For when we make space for the Spirit to work, he can do amazing things through us. Very soon the person we have taught will be teaching us things!

If there hadn’t been Nathanael, there wouldn’t have been v.51. Maybe it is a bit obscure: ‘you will see heaven opened and the angels ascending and descending on the Son of Man.’

 

But for those who were brought up with the Hebrew Bible, they would have instantly thought of Jacob. This Old Testament patriarch was running away from home. While sleeping rough, with a stone as a pillow, he dreamt he saw heaven open and a ladder connecting heaven and earth. Angels were ascending and descending on the ladder. Jacob took it as a sign that God was with him. In the morning he set up his stone pillow as a pillar to remember that God is here.

 

Jesus says that the angels ascend and descend on the Son of Man. On himself. He takes the place of the ladder linking heaven and earth. This one is the fully human, fully divine, son of man. In him God’s eternity and creation come together. In his body – perhaps hinting at the cross – he bridges the gap.

 

We do not climb a stairway to heaven by being good or keeping all the rules. It is Jesus himself who brings heaven to earth and earth to heaven. This is what is unique about him. Jesus does not point to a code to follow, nor a culture. The centre of Christianity is Jesus himself. That is why we say ‘Come and See’. Come and experience the life of the community in which Christ lives. Come and join the worship, come and receive the word and sacrament in which Christ is known. Come and serve, build the Kingdom of God on earth as in heaven. Come and see.

 

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How do we make sense of the Second Coming?

When I was at primary school I had a thing about dinosaurs. I think it drove everyone round the bend. It didn’t just stop at a plastic Tyrannosaurus fighting a toy Triceratops – I had to go the whole hog and convert my bedroom into a museum. Birthday presents were dinosaur themed – usually the latest book on prehistoric monsters.

 

I remember one book which was properly scientific, written by a leading expert. In one chapter he discussed a great mystery: why did the dinosaurs become extinct? In the early ‘80s this was a complete unknown. Of course, there were some ideas that were completely bonkers: they were all eaten by cavemen or wiped out by asteroids.

 

But as we now know, it was an asteroid wot done it. Since that book was written, scientists have discovered a whacking great crater in the Yucatan peninsula. There, 65 million years ago, a 6 mile wide space rock slammed into a shallow sea, blanketed the world in a cloud of dust that dropped global temperatures and finished off the dinosaurs.

 

Now, you haven’t taken a wrong turning today and ended up in a palaeontological lecture! The reason I’m saying this is that in the past few decades modern science has proven that truly catastrophic events do occur. Things that we once considered bonkers, wild fantasies, the result of an overactive imagination, are now respectable scientific fact.

 

I remind myself of that whenever I come across passages like this one from Mark’s gospel, chapter 13 verses 24-37. Because, if I’m honest, when I read things like v.24 ‘the sun will be darkened, the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven’, it all sounds a bit way out. Weird and scary and hard to understand.

 

Do you remember that time a couple of months ago when there was a storm and lots of dust got whipped up from the Sahara? The sunlight turned red. The sun itself was the colour of blood. It felt really freaky. Windswept but no birdsong. As if something was about to happen. I could see how events like that might make people think the end is nigh!

So what does this reading mean? Are we meant to take it literally or as a symbol? Does Jesus here foretell a dramatic end of the world event, like a supernova, before he comes again? Or is it religious language for a revolution in society, turning the tables as the Kingdom of God comes?

 

Whichever way you look at it, clearly it describes a remarkable act of God. The Lord intervenes to transform the status quo and then Christ will reign. So firstly it asks us if we do believe that God can act? Can God transform situations? I believe that he can – I’ve seen it happen.

 

You may be aware that a couple of years ago my son Jonathan was diagnosed with pulmonary hypertension. This is a bit of a one way street, to be honest, it can’t be cured. The doctors weren’t even treating it, because of the medicines’ side-effects. Anyway, a few weeks ago Jonathan had his cardiac check-up – and the results were normal. No sign of it. I can’t explain that. It seems miraculous.

 

Nothing is beyond God’s power. The God of the Resurrection can resurrect a dying world. A dramatic end to existence as we know it, and the beginning of a new creation, is within God’s power. This is the hope of the church. Why we are here. To be a sign of the Kingdom.

 

So why might it feel hard to believe? Is it perhaps a failure of imagination? Type verse 26 into Google images: ‘son of man coming in clouds’ and you’ll see what I mean. The artwork doesn’t help – it’s straight off the pages of a Jehovah’s Witness magazine. What is described here is beyond the abilities of our limited imagination.

 

It may help to realise that Jesus is quoting from the Old Testament. V. 26 comes from Daniel 7 verses 13-14 about the Son of Man being given power in God’s presence. Verses 24 and 25 are from Isaiah, in the middle of a passage talking about the historic fall of Babylon. Isaiah describes the total destruction of the enemy city, which will never be built on again. Only this kind of apocalyptic language can do it justice.

Bishop Tom Wright, who’s a respected New Testament scholar, argues that people at the time of Jesus were not really expecting the stars literally to fall from the sky and the moon turn to actual blood. Tom Wright says they used this language to speak of dramatic world changing events, times when God does something completely new. After all St Peter quotes those exact verses to explain the arrival of the Spirit on the Day of Pentecost. The moon did not literally turn to blood that day, or even just turn red – something more remarkable happened: God through his Holy Spirit came to live in human beings.

 

Yet Jesus doesn’t just quote, he adds to the words from Isaiah. In v 27 he talks about the angels gathering the elect from every corner of the earth. He really does seem, in v.32, to have a particular event in mind, that he will actually return, whatever signs accompany that day.

 

And Jesus says all this, not to satisfy idle curiosity, but so that we can be prepared. Take a look at verses 28-29: ‘from the fig tree learn its lesson, as soon as the branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves you know that summer is near. So you also when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near.’ Is summer a good thing? Yes! By February how we long for sunshine! Are figs good? Yes, they’re delicious! Is the coming of Christ therefore good? Yes.

 

Jesus tells us that he will reign, he will be a loving and just king, that the creation will be the beautiful and joyous place that God intended. When we read these parts of the Bible we can get overwhelmed by the challenge, the warnings, the tribulation. But Jesus tells us that these are the birth pains – what you have to go through to get to the new life. Yes evil will be destroyed. Yes, there will be a judgement.

 

God tells humanity this so that we can turn from evil, be forgiven, and enjoy the new life that is to come. If we trust in Christ we have nothing to fear at the judgement because we are forgiven. Christ gave himself on the cross, taking the punishment that should be ours, so that our sin can be wiped away. It asks us: have we accepted Christ as our Saviour?

 

It is good news, but when will it happen? Verses 30-32 seem to pull in different directions. V.31 says that ‘this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place’. As you read the New Testament it seems clear that some people in the Early Church expected Jesus to return very soon – within a few years of his Ascension. The Second letter of Peter tells us that when Jesus did not come back quickly, scoffers began to say ‘where is this coming?’ to which Peter replies ‘with the Lord one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like a day.’ Expectations had to be adjusted.

 

But in v.32 Jesus had said that ‘no-one knows the day or the hour, neither the angels in heaven, nor even the Son himself, but only the Father.’ So if it is unknown we must be prepared. It is like a boss unexpectedly dropping in on a factory to see what’s really going on. Like OFSTED inspectors who give a school just 24hrs so you can’t make it up!

 

We do not know when Christ will come. You and I may still be around when he returns. Or we may return to him first. We do not know the day of either of those events! There’s another way of looking at it: Jesus may come in the crucial encounters of life.

 

Think about it: the times when we have to make decisions, when the rubber of our faith really hits the road, when we react one way or the other to another person. Those also are times when we encounter Christ. In a sense Christ comes at any time when our instant reactions reveal the attitudes and habits we have built up over the years. When we see if we are truly in him. That’s why the church is here – to encourage and support us as we try and be faithful to God.

 

How then should we live? In 1 Corinthians chapter 1 verses 3-9 Paul gives us a very simple answer. We should live by grace. Let’s just turn to that briefly.

 

 

Grace is the gift of God. Freely given, received as a gift, not earned by us. When I was a student there was a poster with a big picture of Jesus on it and the words ‘Jesus is coming. Look busy’. That’s a trap we can easily fall into with all these warnings about being prepared, keeping watch, and so on.

 

But Jesus does not look for us to be busy. He wants us to live by grace. Paul teaches us, in v.4, that it is the grace of God which calls us into a relationship with God through Christ Jesus. In verses 5-7 it is the grace of God which gives us all the gifts that we need as we serve Christ and one another. And in verse 8 and 9 it is God himself – his grace not our efforts – it is God himself who strengthens us so that we may be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.

 

It’s as we live by grace, as we trust God, that we become ready for Christ. It is through depending on him that the life of God’s Kingdom appears within us. However he comes, whenever he comes, may he find us trusting in God and abiding in him.

Sheep and Goats

I never thought I’d say this, confession time, but Saturday evening in our household is Strictly Come Dancing night. The girls are totally hooked to the costumes, the dancing and the excitement of who will get chucked off each week. I wander in and out as I get things ready for Sunday – but I have to admit, in a strange way it draws you in.

 

One of the things I find fascinating is how people react to being judged. Sometimes they seem on the verge of tears – which I find quite understandable – you’ve given your best to something, not your natural talent only to have your efforts archly, condescendingly ripped apart. But of course the contestants could take the judges’ comments as advice, timely warnings that if taken could avert catastrophe. If only Jonny had managed to do what they said and keep his rear tucked in!

 

When we hear passages about judgement in the Bible, like the gospel reading from Matthew 25, we face a choice in how we approach it. The message of judgement will not be comfortable, it would be tempting to stop up our ears, carry on and hope for the best, but if we listen and take note, it will do us a lot of good.

 

If you had come to this church 500 years ago, on the eve of the Reformation, this chancel arch would have been one huge painting. Up at the top, Christ was seated in majesty, judging the world. On his right, and your left, the blessed rise out of their graves to everlasting life. On that side, demons haul sinners away to the gates of hell. I imagine that when the sermon got boring, our predecessors would look at the picture – maybe some got drawn to the images of bliss, others of a more nervous disposition were fascinated by the gory scenes on their right.

 

And when we read Matthew 25 verses 31 to the end, we may identify more with one than another. Do you see yourself as a sheep, looking forward to eternal life in the presence of Christ? Or does a guilty conscience trouble you, as you worry about the fate of the goats?

 

Christianity comforts the disturbed, and disturbs the comfortable. It may be that if we identify with the sheep, we might need to be challenged. And if we worry about being goats, maybe we need to hear the good news of God’s invitation, to be forgiven and free. So as we think about this part of the Bible, please do consciously engage with the bits that might not at first sight appear to apply to you.

 

When I prepare a sermon I always ask ‘Where’s the good news here?’ For however challenging or difficult a part of the Bible is, we must believe that in the end God’s message to us is good news. There is a lot here!

 

Firstly, it tells us that Jesus will reign, that’s what we remember this Sunday as we think about Christ the King. Kings and Queens today are either found in fairy tales, or they are constitutional monarchs, like our own Queen and Prince Philip celebrating 60 years together. The Biblical background to Christ the King is an all-powerful monarch who nonetheless gives himself to save his people. In v. 31: ‘When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory.’ Even now, Jesus is at the right hand of God, and one day his kingdom will come with power. The whole world will be as God intended it to be. Over it all, as King, will be Christ.

 

Secondly, we are invited to join that Kingdom. If we have faith in Jesus, that promise of verse 34 applies to us: ‘You that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom that has been prepared for you from the foundation of the world.’ It has always been God’s plan that his people should live with him in a perfectly renewed creation forever. He invites us – so let us respond, take up the invitation.

 

Thirdly, the good news is that good will triumph and there will be an end to evil. We see very clearly here that kind, loving, serving deeds are rewarded by Jesus. These are simple practical actions in verses 35-36: clothing the naked, feeding the hungry, caring for the sick.

It’s not hard to think of equivalents today: Doing the shopping for the housebound lady next door, putting a tin or two in the supermarket’s box for the homeless. Popping in to check on those who are unwell, phoning those who are going through hard times. Sharing garden produce, welcoming the less well-off to a church social. Giving to charity. Defending those who are oppressed. Hosting a refugee family.

 

Some of these actions are simple: like the guy who approached me at Chippenham station and pointed out I was standing on a platform where there were no train tracks, and the one I wanted was over there. Others are more complex – I’m sure I’m not the only one here who’s given money to a beggar, feeling sorry for them and a bit guilty too because I’m also wondering how it will be spent. I got sent this excellent guide: ‘How to help homeless people’ by the Church Housing Trust, because we have to be both generous and wise.

 

In the first century AD, when Jesus taught, most people lived in small communities. They knew their neighbours but not much further afield, they knew who was in need, and were mutually accountable to one another. Today we are so interconnected that we daily see images of suffering people from the other side of the world, yet at the same time we may have little relationship even with the folks next door.

 

We are so aware of need, we could give our all, but what then? We can be bewildered as to how to respond, feel guilty turning away the charity doorstepper. As St Paul says in Corinthians, it is important to give prayerfully, generously, without compulsion and responsibly. God wants us to develop maturity in our giving, so each one of us needs to work this out for ourselves. And the question is not ‘How little or how much must I give?’ but ‘How much of me, my life in Christ, and all that God has entrusted to me is reflected in my giving?’ For giving changes us. We are transformed, and others are transformed by our gift.

 

 

It may do so in a deep way. Martin Luther King said: ‘We are called to play the Good Samaritan on life’s roadside; but that will be only an initial act. One day we must come to see that the whole Jericho road must be transformed so that men and women will not be constantly beaten and robbed as they make their journey on life’s highway. True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it is not haphazard and superficial. It comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring’

 

For instance it is good that the government has reduced the waiting time for Universal Credit – people claiming benefit just don’t have 6 weeks’ living expenses in their back pocket.

 

Making structural changes involves difficult issues, and I have sympathy for those who implement them. One thing we can be sure of, our fourth point: that when the Kingdom of God comes, suffering will be no more. Evil will be destroyed. This is really the other side of the same coin. If the new creation is entirely good, there can be no evil. None at all. I used to homebrew wine – make a gallon at a go, but if a single tiny fruit fly got in the whole lot would turn to vinegar. Even a tiny bit of wickedness would spread.

 

The challenging thing about the people in the passage who are described as goats is that if we met in the street we wouldn’t think they were bad. In v. 41-43 Jesus does not call them murderers, thieves, adulterers, drunkards – because they weren’t. They probably seemed very moral. They just didn’t help those in need. Maybe they lived in nice bungalows with well maintained gardens; they were quiet neighbours, kept themselves to themselves. Never hurt a fly. They just didn’t help either. ‘Not my problem. The state will sort it out. If I get involved where will it stop? It’s probably their fault anyway.’

 

 

I know that I’ve reacted to the needy like that at times. Rather than responding out of guilt, I should remember that fifth piece of good news: that when we help those in need we help Christ himself. In v.44 they ask: ‘Lord when did we see you hungry and not feed you?’  -the implication being that if they knew it was Jesus they would have done something. But Jesus says ‘Whatever you do (or do not do) for one of these, you do for me.’ In serving others, we serve Christ.

 

One of the big questions in this passage is when Jesus talks about ‘members of my family’ who does he mean? Does he mean Christians, who certainly often suffer double discrimination? Or does he mean that we are all children of God? It’s not entirely clear.

 

Maybe the biggest question though is what am I? Am I, are you, a sheep or a goat? Which side of the chancel arch are you? Destined for eternal life, or destruction?

 

The temptation is to respond by reflecting on what we do. how well do we measure up? So I do try and respond to need. But sometimes I walk on by – it seems too complicated or I’m caught up in my own world or don’t want to be drawn in. I give to charity but how much? – I suppose I could go the extra mile like John Wesley who gave up drinking tea so he could give to the poor. There’s always more that could be done.

 

Am I therefore a sheep or a goat? I feel like both. Which predominates? Have you done enough good, been enough of a sheep, to outweigh any goatish behaviour? To compensate for the wrong done? Let alone any good not done?

 

How do I know where I will be when Jesus divides us in two? How can anybody reach God’s perfect standard? Surely the answer is that We can’t. We cannot wipe away our sin, that foul spot never washes out, except when God forgives us through Jesus.

We could never do enough to reach some divine standard. The only offering that will satisfy is the perfection of Christ, his sacrifice of himself for us on the cross.

 

Our mixed nature, the sheep and the goat within each of us, can only be dealt with by being born again in Jesus. When we commit ourselves to him we receive new life that lasts for eternity, and the old way finally perishes the day that we die. In the light of the rest of the Bible, we cannot read this passage as an exhortation to do more so that we can be saved. It is not that. Instead it tells us that true faith results in actions.

 

If we trust in Christ, if we are truly his, then we will want to make a difference for others. If Jesus’ spirit is in us, then we will feel compassion for those in need. Yes, we may be puzzled by how best to help, yes we will still wrestle with our innate selfishness, but by the grace of God we should see progress. We will do something! Motivated not by guilt, but by his love, the love that was first shown to us, we will reach out in love to those in need and in so doing serve Christ himself.

Arts Festival at Harvest Time. John 15:1-11

When I think of an artist, my grandfather always comes to mind. Les Swann had always enjoyed drawing – I still have a pen and ink sketch that he drew of Hyderabad Cathedral during his wartime service. He used his demob grant to train as an art teacher. Being head of art in all-boys secondary school meant that he was both competent in all sorts of media, and a lethal shot whether with a cricket ball or board rubber.

He seemed to be able to turn his hand to anything, from oil paintings of abandoned tin mines, to orders of service for funerals. These leaflets, in the days before photocopying would be pressed out individually in the garden shed using an ancient raised type printer. It took me some time to realise that the pictures and floral patterns round the edge were not mere embellishment to the words within – they were just as much part of the message, the medium conveying an overall impression.

The Christian doctrine of Creation is similar. It appears at first sight to be focussed on words. ‘Let there be light and there was light.’ ‘In the beginning was the Word and the word was God and the word was with God’. The beginning of John’s gospel gives us the belief that God the Father creates the world through God the Son. Not yet incarnate as Jesus, God the Son in creation is called, in the original Greek, the logos which is often translated Word. It would misleading though to think that Word exhausts the meaning of what God is doing in creation. As if God speaks the universe into being and that is it. Logos means so much more.

For the creative work continues, God is intimately involved in his creation. The glories of the world that we see around us: its beauty, diversity, exuberance, are all part of the gift of God and bear witness to his creativity. So art is not just a useful way of making a point which could be more concisely put in words – rather art is part of God’s self-revelation to us. Art is not mere illustration – it can reveal part of God. Christianity without art would be deeply impoverished. As we are creative, as we allow our artistic gifts to develop, we can draw close to God.

When I remember my grandparents’ house, for some reason I always picture the stairs. They had one of those carpets that you never see nowadays, you know the ones that don’t quite cover the tread of each stair. Half-way up was a large window, which flooded the hallway with light, and on the window sill were several pots. One in particular deeply impressed me: large secretary birds stomped round it in an eternal quest for prey. I wonder how many tries it took my grandfather to get that pot right?

Watching a potter work is an engrossing experience. I find it fascinating how a pot emerges like a living organism from a featureless lump of clay. Yet forming a pot is much more than an idea in the potter’s mind becoming embodied. As if he thinks and does. Instead there’s almost a conversation between the clay and the potter – the texture and density of the clay will affect the type of pot that can be made. Small imperfections will be smoothed out, variations in the spinning speed may alter the final design.

 

It is the same with our relationship to God in creation. As the prophet Jeremiah observed, if God is like the potter then we are like the clay. Trusting ourselves into his hands, we are moulded into the image he wants us to be, fully expressing the potential that lies within. God’s work in us does not involve extinguishing our personality – quite the opposite, as God works with the clay of which our character is formed. We can trust his perfect design.

In the act of Creation, God makes something that is not himself. The God who is everywhere, in a sense has to limit himself so that there is the space for other beings to exist. That self-restricting act gives us freedom. God makes the space which gives us the ability to fulfil God’s destiny for us, or to turn away, as the case may be.

Sometimes the potter gives a little sigh, and before you realise what is happening, has collapsed the pot into a ball and started again. So it is with us: our mistakes may mar the design, but there is always the chance to turn back to God, repent and begin again.

Something similar is happening in our reading from John’s Gospel Chapter 10. The gardener goes along the vine, pruning, sometimes so alarmingly hard that we wonder: can the plant ever survive? He knows what he is doing, and the next year the harvest is abundant.

As Jesus says in verse 2: ‘He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch in me that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.’ There is a cost in fulfilling our greatest potential: distractions must be pruned away, unworthy vices rubbed off, selfishness cut out. This is not done against our will, we must give our permission, desire to be what we cannot in our own strength.

For the ability to be transformed comes from the grace of God, and this power, this energy, arises from within the vine itself. From Christ who is our root and stem. As he says in verse 5: ‘I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.’ As the creative logos, he is the source of the life within us. His divine power gives us all we need.

So what does it mean to abide in him? How can that be a reality for us? Abiding in Christ means a conscious turning to him. Wishing to be what we can be through the gift of God, hoping to fulfil the destiny he has for us. As we do so, his spirit enters in and we become aware of the signs of his love within us.

Abiding in Christ involves an action. It will mean making the space through stillness, silence and prayer, in which we can respond to his Holy Spirit. Letting him prune away all that does not bring life, and allowing the fruit to grow as we look beyond ourselves to others. Abiding in Christ our creativity reaches its fullest expression. But above all, his creativity, his life, his wondrous power finds its expression within us. Amen.

 

Walking on water

Everything seems peaceful as the gospel story begins. It’s been an amazing day – Jesus has fed the 5000. But now everything is calming down. It’s a lovely evening on the Sea of Galilee. After the excitement, Jesus goes off to pray and the disciples get into their boats. But Galilee is infamously treacherous. Desert air rises, storms sweep in from the surrounding hills. Wind and waves batter the boat far from land. Jesus walks out to them. Now the disciples panic – is it a ghost? Jesus reassures. Peter goes out to meet him. He doubts. It all goes horribly wrong. Jesus reaches out his hand and catches him

It seems to be calling us to faith – to be like Peter, to step out in faith – to keep our eyes on Jesus and not to be distracted by the storms that come our way. Yet if the tempests of life should overwhelm, Christ is alongside, able to rescue us when we call out to him

I remember seeing this story in a French seaside church on the Ile de Re. The painting covered an entire wall, with life sized figures. The theme’s been done a thousand times. But this one was different. I was deeply moved by it. For the disciples were real people

You know the kind of art you get in churches, where Jesus’ followers are identikit middle aged men with plain but well balanced features, and costume out of Victorian central casting. Instantly forgettable. These guys were real, they had lined weather beaten faces, individual hair, craggy features, warts and all. St. Peter particularly could only have been a portrait. I’m prepared to bet that someone in that village had paid for the painting. Perhaps it was a fisherman giving thanks for salvation after a storm. Perhaps we might see him walking down the street. Someone there was saying ‘I was Peter’.

 

I wonder. Have you been Peter? Have you have felt solidity vanishing under your feet? Have you seen everything you trusted in giving way? Have you felt yourself slipping beneath the surface, when the pressures of life overwhelm? Have you reached rock bottom, where all you can do is cry out ’Lord, save me’?

If so, then maybe you will have known also the hand of Christ. Sometimes we only find him when we have nothing left to cling to and there’s no alternative. But when you turn to him, he holds on to you. You may feel his strength keeping you up. You may not feel anything – but he is there. He will not let go of you

I’ve certainly felt like that at times this past year. With so much going on: the media campaign, being Area Dean, it can at times feel overwhelming. I cannot do it in my own strength. But God’s strength supplies all that I need. I just have to learn to be out there in the deep end, trusting in God.

Maybe you’ve known that love of God. That sustaining power. Or maybe you need it now. Don’t forget that Christ is there, that he loves you. Don’t be afraid to receive his help. Don’t leave it to the last minute to call out. Bring your needs to him in prayer

This has become a much loved miracle, speaking to many people.  What we can forget though is that this wasn’t some great misfortune which happened to Peter. He got himself into it. He was the bright spark who thought it might be a good idea to jump out of a wallowing rowing boat in the middle of a storm. He thought he might be able to walk over water. In verse 28 he said to Jesus: ‘Lord if it’s you, command me to come to you on the water

What amazing faith! Peter says ‘Lord, if you want me to do the impossible, I’ll do it. In fact, that’s the way I’ll know it’s you, because only you would ask me to

Do we see amazing things? Do we challenge God to call us further? One of the things I really like about our churches is that people do step out in faith. Someone said: Let’s reorder the North Aisle and start a new service.. Let’s hold a stewardship appeal as we’re coming out of the worst recession in decades

‘Let’s employ a children’s worker.’ It happened. The grants came in. Do you know that during the time the charity that has been supporting our children’s worker donated about £50,000 to the project but investment performance mean their reserves have only gone down by about £10,000. God is good

Bonkers? Or faith? All those things were thought about carefully. All of them were prayed through. The difficulties may have seemed vast, but people stepped out in faith.

If you want to see great things happen, then be like Peter. Throw down the gauntlet to God. Here I am Lord, send me. Let me know what you want and I’ll do it. I believe Lord that when you call a man or woman you give them what they need

In verses 29-30: So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on water and came to Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind he became frightened, and beginning to sink he called out ‘Lord save me’.

Initial enthusiasm is great. Then you must keep going. Once he’s far enough from the boat to be alone, Peter begins to waver. He gets into trouble. It often happens when you set off in faith. I remember well when after five years planning the church reordering quotations came back. Even the lowest was twice what the PCC expected. Suddenly we were in trouble. We had to turn to God again

Living faith can be like that. We set off; full of enthusiasm, strong in the strength Christ gives. But once out of the safety zone, problems arise. There may be opposition, resolve falters. Then we need to turn to Christ anew. We need to learn through experience that he will provide. Perseverance despite opposition grows our faith.

When he saves Peter, in v.31, Jesus says ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’ Why do we doubt? Because when the waves grow high, when the darkness clouds us in, Christ seems hid from view. Or is he?

Is it like Peter in v.30? Is it that we notice the strong wind, we focus on the problem, and we forget the Lord?

I’m not criticizing. I’ve been there. I remember when the time came for me to leave my curacy, you have a year to try and find a job. Sounds plenty! But I was young, inexperienced, in those days no-one wanted to take the risk. It was beginning to get really worrying and I started applying for ever more unsuitable posts. I’d forgotten that God was alongside me, that he had a plan. He often leaves it to the last minute. But when it came it was what he’d been planning all along.

The wind and the waves are so distracting. The problems can be like little goblins gibbering away in your face. You have to put them to one side. You have to make a conscious effort to focus on God. To look to him first, and then to lay down the problems at his feet

Now someone may be thinking: wouldn’t it be a lot easier to stay in the boat? Perhaps it would. But think what you’d be missing! What you wouldn’t achieve. How you wouldn’t grow. How much of knowing Jesus you’d miss out on. To be able to walk on water you have to step out of the boat

Christ calls us to follow him, wherever he goes. But we should be aware that getting out of the boat is only the beginning. We need persistence and the ability to keep fixed on Jesus. Even if we do get into difficulties – and if we try and do anything worthwhile, there will be problems – even if we do get into difficulties, Christ will save. 

He can do this because he is God. And I think that is the main point of the story. Although we tend to identify with Peter and the imaginative use of the story, nevertheless, Matthew’s emphasis is clear. Right at the end, the disciples are overwhelmed. They say: ‘Truly, you are the Son of God’. That’s what Matthew wants us to know. And it’s the same for the other Evangelists. Neither Mark nor John relate the incident with Peter – the main point for them is that Jesus walked on water. It is, pure and simple, a proof of divinity. The miracle was yet another piece of evidence that Jesus is divine

That, incidentally, is why you can’t explain away the miracle. Granted, it’s not an easy one to believe. And apologies if you’ve been sat here throughout the sermon thinking, ‘yes but did it really happen?

There have plenty of attempts to rationalize the miracle. For instance:  some say Jesus only appeared to be walking on water – he was actually walking by the lake! Going for an amble on solid ground. Or: Jesus wasn’t walking on the waves, there was a handily submerged mudflat, just so deep beneath the surface! As if it’s possible to walk securely on a submerged mudflat in the middle of a storm! Today, you too can walk on water. You can go to Lake Galilee, and for a few shekels you can wander about on a plastic sheet suspended in the lake. Hey presto, walking on water!

It’s bonkers! The gospel writers were not crazy. Those experienced fishermen would not have been fooled by Magic Circle tricks. When the gospel writers recorded this, they believed there were describing a miracle. They weren’t daft, they knew walking on water doesn’t happen unless it’s God. It’s evidence that Jesus is divine.

We can take it or leave it. We could believe it because if he were God then he could do that. Or some people disbelieve it and I suppose they have to say the evangelists made it up, created a myth with a spiritual meaning. The problem with believing it’s a just symbolic myth is that you end up with a spiritual meaning disconnected from physical fact.

But what you can’t do is water it down and take the meaning out of it. If you do, you end up with something that probably didn’t happen like that anyway, wasn’t what the Evangelists intended and is still pretty incredible.

The point of the miracle is that Jesus saved Peter. He saved Peter and was able to do so because he is the divine Son of God. He can intervene in our lives because he is the Son of God. And so we do all become Peter. Our own lives, our trials and tribulations are reflected in that dark and stormy night. Each one of us is the willing but fallible disciple. We too are full of enthusiasm one moment and doubting and fear stricken the next. And each one of us is also the disciple saved by Christ – the hands of Jesus reaching out and taking hold of us. So we too can know the wonder and love of the disciples. We too can exclaim with renewed faith: ‘Truly you are the Son of God’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vocation 5, Ezekiel 3 and Matt 28

Ezekiel left the refugee camp behind and stood on the banks of the River Kebar. Grand name for an unpleasant reality.  The drainage ditch was filthy, polluted with a scum of green algae and unspeakable things. Gloomily he stared at the water and felt utterly miserable. His life was pointless. Messed up, and there was no going back.

What is a priest supposed to do without a temple? A servant of the Lord far away from the Lord’s land? Ezekiel’s 30th birthday was meant to be the high point, the time when he could begin the ministry for which he had spent his life training. But the Babylonians had come. War, capture, and now exile. In the prime of his life, Ezekiel’s future was forced labour. He’d missed his vocation. He was far from home. What a waste.

To cap it all a storm was brewing in the North, and fat raindrops began to fall. Turning for shelter, he looked back at the black cloud – and saw visions of God. As it says in Ezekiel 1 v1 ‘In the thirtieth year, in the fourth month, on the fifth day of the month, as I was among the exiles by the river Chebar, the heavens were opened and I saw visions of God.’

It may be obscure, but this is one of my favourite verses in the Bible. Because it says that no matter where I am, no matter what awful things are going on around me, no matter how much I may have messed up – God is there. However veiled it may be, his glory is ready to be revealed. The sovereign Lord is present and he is in ultimate control.

Ezekiel realised God was there. Even by the river Chebar God was there. When all hope had fled, God showed Ezekiel that he is still Lord, that he rules. It was the beginning of something new: a prophetic ministry that brought Israel back to their God; a call to repentance; the rebirth of Judaism.

Up until that point the Jewish people had more or less gone along with the idea that each nation had their own god. And that each nation and god had their own territory, the place where they belonged. Of course, they knew the God of Israel could defeat the gods of Egypt. But Ezekiel discovered something new: that the God of Israel is the God of the whole world. He’s not restricted to one place – he is everywhere.

In the gospel, Jesus similarly tells us all authority in heaven and earth has been given to him. For those who have eyes to see it, God’s glory is potentially everywhere. Not just in the temple, or the Holy Land, but here in life and joy, the beauty of creation all around us, the love of family and friends. We can be aware of God when we stop and pray, we sense his presence in a holy place. But Jesus means more than this.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve had to learn is that is often most known in times of trial. In the hardest moments of my life I have felt God more closely than in the times of blessing. He is alongside us in pain and suffering. In our darkness, when we experience difficulty, we can find God. Isn’t that the message of the cross on Passion Sunday? That God enters human suffering and we can find him in the midst of it? The cross gives us the deepest insight into God’s heart. For God cares about his world, and calls us to work with him in putting it right.

This is the final sermon in our series on vocation. So far we’ve thought about how God calls everyone to himself, adult or child – we are all called; how God uses our gifts, and how we may have to overcome our reluctance to respond. Today we’re looking at how God calls us to serve him in the world. The call of Ezekiel in Chapter 3 tells us that people may or may not listen to God’s message – but fear of that reaction should not hold us back. And, when we witness to Christ we must be rooted in God and genuinely caring for the people we serve.

Look at v.4. ‘Mortal go to the house of Israel and speak my very words to them.’ Right at the beginning of this series, I said that the most important thing in calling was that we are called personally to know God. I said that being called is not about doing a job, but about being in a relationship with God through Jesus. He wants us to know him.

It’s also true that the more we get to know God, the more we will share his love for his creation. It’s like a fire within us, his compassion will lead us to serve. So relationship with God is bound to make us look outwards. Christian faith must lead to practical service, a better world.

Ezekiel was given the job of conveying God’s words. So, in a general sense are we. We may not all be called to be evangelists or Bible teachers, but all Christians are called to bear witness to Jesus. We are meant to be lights in the world, and speak of our faith.

That’s what the church is for. In the gospel reading, Jesus sent the apostles out to make disciples of all nations, baptizing and teaching them to obey everything he had commanded. The church continues that task and we all have a role to play. Lost for Words?

Like Ezekiel, that may meet with rejection. V.5-6 describe how Israel, who knew God, will not listen, even though those with foreign languages would. Do we not see that still today? In China, South Korea and Nepal, huge numbers are becoming Christians. England, with a long history of Christian faith, is resistant to the gospel.

But I don’t think we should over-emphasise that. I’ve found that many individuals are willing to listen and discuss. I had respectful discussions with atheists, good arguments with articulate Muslims. I find that Agnostics Anonymous is much appreciated – someone even travels from Bristol to join us. Younger people can often be very open because they haven’t had religion drilled into them. They really respond if they see a genuine faith that makes a difference in our lives.

So non-believers are not necessarily hostile. They may be searching for meaning, they often find alternative lifestyles interesting. One of the biggest traps is when we assume we won’t get a hearing, and so don’t speak. Often I have been pleasantly surprised.

When I became a curate my vicar said to me: ‘We’ve got these paperback gospels. Drop them into people’s letter boxes would you? It was some kind of evangelistic initiative. I didn’t even have to knock the door. Yet even such a timid effort with minimal contact brought a two people to a real faith. Any of us could do that, couldn’t we? It doesn’t need much courage to drop off the parish Christmas cards, or publicity.

But fear inhibits us. ‘Oh, I couldn’t speak about my faith’; or ‘I can’t do children’s work’. ‘What if I messed up?’ Well, what if? So it went wrong – at least no-one died. Put it down to experience and try again. Fear like that is a devil’s trick – he exaggerates the danger so we don’t share our faith. What really is the worst that can happen? Being seen as a religious nut? That pales in comparison with what Jesus did for us. Never forget that Matthew 28 is a resurrection appearance. Christ sends the disciples out to tell the story of a God who died to save us.

Christ’s love compels us. But we do have to acknowledge the fear we sometimes feel. We should bring those fears to God, praying he will take them away, or give us courage to overcome them. As he says to Ezekiel in v. 9. ‘Like the hardest stone I have made your forehead’. Like him we may feel that the concerns we had just evaporate, or we are given strength to carry on.

God also commands Ezekiel not to fear. Sometimes you just have to step out in faith and get on with it. For courage is not the absence of fear. John Wayne said ‘courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway.’ So let’s take a chance, stick our necks out for God. It may well be that we get an encouraging response and something good happens – particularly if we’ve prayed beforehand.

Isn’t it encouraging that Jesus’ disciples doubted even when he appeared to them. How did they doubt? Did they wonder if it was really Jesus? Were they in two minds about whether he was actually alive or a vision? Or did they doubt the appropriateness of worshipping him?

The word for doubt is the same one that’s used when Peter gets out of the boat to walk on water, and then sees the wind and waves and gets scared. So doubt isn’t incompatible with faith. Nor does doubt necessarily stop us from being useful to Jesus. He told these doubting people to start the church! He used them for an enormous job. We may have doubts too. It doesn’t mean that we aren’t true Christians. Nor does it mean that God can’t use us.

So be encouraged to step out for God. Don’t be shy of speaking of your faith for fear that you don’t know all the answers, or have worries or doubts. Often a real story of faith, honestly told with times of joy and of sorrow and doubt can be much more compelling than one which is so confident that it sounds otherworldly.

And of course, what we do and say needs to be a fair reflection of God’s word. As it says in v.10 ‘Receive in your heart’ – God’s word must be true in our lives. We need to take it to heart. It’s said that a preacher always preaches to himself first. Anyone who tries to speak about God is not a mere mouthpiece nor a typewriter keyboard, conveying a message without understanding. Instead, we should be more like a dancer, who interprets and embodies the script. People instinctively know when the story doesn’t ring true. That’s why, in v 12 and 13, Ezekiel has visions of God, so he can reflect what he has seen. So use your own words to describe your faith, not Christian cliché. (LFW)

Unfortunately a spiritual high can be followed by a big comedown. We can’t spend forever up high in spiritual experience, you have to descend to the hurly burly of train tickets and the school run. It’s a shock. Sometimes people can be really bitter because there’s such a contrast between the joy of their conversion, and the hard work of being faithful to Christ day by day. There can even be anger at what we’ve been called to do. But that’s o.k. God’s big enough to cope when we bring it to him. Ezekiel describes it in v. 14 ‘I went in bitterness of Spirit’.

But the hand of the Lord was upon him. It was less obvious, but God’s presence was still there. If any of us are finding life hard, we should remember that. Present, not in felt glory, but present nonetheless.

Finally, in v.15 ‘I sat there among the exiles, stunned for seven days’. Ezekiel remained one of the people, he continued to share their lives. If he were just to speak God’s message with God’s fearlessness, he might have come over as condemning, unloving, hard. But he sat as one of them; as Jesus did, sharing our weakness, loving us, acting with compassion and praying to God for us. Anyone who would share their faith with friends and neighbours should be the same. Christians cannot set ourselves apart and criticise from a distance. We must sit among our people – one beggar telling another where to find bread.

So, God has called us to himself. That means we are also sent, from God’s presence, equipped with a vision of his glory and strengthened by his love and courage. In the words of Christ in the gospel: ‘Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.

 

Vocation sermon 2

Genesis 41:15-36, Luke 12:35-38

Thanks to Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber, Joseph and his Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat is one of the best known stories from the Old Testament. It was even used by the BBC as a follow up to ‘How do you solve a problem like Maria.’ – where a group of hopefuls auditioned to play Joseph in a West End production.

So I’m guessing that the central story of Joseph is familiar: the spoilt dreamer who so wound up his brothers that they sold him into slavery in Egypt. He endured many difficulties and imprisonment, before we get to today’s passage, where we hear how his ability to interpret dreams saved Egypt from famine. And, in so doing, it also rescued from starvation his own family, with whom he eventually got reconciled.

Where the musical and film are different from the Bible story, is that they don’t recognise the part God played. In the Genesis account, it’s clear that God works everything together for the good, so that his people will survive. God looks after Joseph and protects him. And it’s clear too – as in v. 25b, that his dream interpretation is a gift from God.

It’s those gifts from God that I want to think about today in our second sermon in the Vocation series. Last week in the evening we looked at what vocation actually means. And fundamentally it’s not about your job. Vocation is bigger than being a priest, missionary or teacher. The key to vocation is that God calls you as a person. He calls you to know him individually. That’s the point. God doesn’t call us because he wants jobs to be done. He calls us because he wants us to be his friends. So don’t think about vocation as being about careers. Think about it as God’s call to you – have you responded? Do you continue to respond by spending time with him? Because he values time with you.

That’s why each of us has a vocation – everyone can be the person God wants us to be. He’s made us unique. He’s given us special gifts and interests – things that make us tick. They have been implanted by the Creator. And it’s part of our vocation to make the most of them.

We glorify God by what we are. Joseph did it through his dreams. Sometimes our gifts can be used in a clearly religious way. I read an article by an evangelist who reaches out to walkers in the Scottish Highlands. He had seen the job advertised and wasn’t sure whether or not to apply, so consulted a friend. ‘Richard,’ the friend said, ‘what sort of God do you believe in? One who wants you to do things you don’t enjoy? Or a God who wants you to flourish? Your two passions in life are hiking and bringing people to Christ. This job is made for you!’

In my curacy church, there was a man with learning difficulties. Couldn’t read. But he was a real people person, a great welcomer, and loved being useful. So he became a sidesman – and no-one ever took the offertory plate up with a greater sense of occasion.

Using our gifts doesn’t have to be stereotypically religious. Do you remember the film Billy Elliott? – about a boy from a mining community who has a natural ability to dance, and takes up ballet? Can that glorify God? Yes, I think it can, because whenever the gifts that God gives us are used well, then that is a glory to our Creator. It shows off the beauty and wisdom of his world.

So, if each of us has a vocation, and if that vocation can evolve over time, then it makes sense to be aware of it, to search for it. Where to look? Start with what you’re good at, the things you love. If there’s anything that you’re enthusiastic about, whether it’s astronomy, flower arranging, or writing, develop it, invest in it and see what happens.

Encourage your children or grandchildren to take up their interests. Of course, there may be a risk in this – their chosen career may not be as stable or as supportive as a parent might wish. But then, what do we value? Wealth or service? Success or fulfilment? I knew a man who was a great musician, but Father felt it was an unpredictable career, so he was pushed into an unhappy 9 to 5 at the bank. Taking up our vocation may have some sacrifices, but we’ll consider that next week.

Does vocation stay the same? Quite possibly not. A particular talent or interest may come into its own at a certain time and place. Joseph was called to be a son, which took him a long time to work out how to do well, and for a while it looked as if that vocation had died. He was called to be a good servant, until he was set up and thrown into prison where his vocation was to be a witness. Finally his gifts came into their own as an able administrator.

Today someone who chooses to marry takes on a vocation as a husband or wife, perhaps also parent. In younger years your vocation may take you abroad with a company, but later on you may be called to a change of career. Within a career, vocation develops. Many who are ordained come to that call later on in life – and I don’t think that means they were missing their purpose until that point. Vocations can evolve.

We may go through times when our talents seem unfulfilled. Early on we hear how the young Joseph had prophetic dreams in which the sun, moon and eleven stars bowing down to him. It’s pretty obvious that referred to his father mother and eleven brothers – that one day he would be greater than them. But it was perhaps unwise to share it! Early on, Joseph’s dreams just caused friction.

Only later, after the suffering of kidnap, slavery, false accusation, and imprisonment, did Joseph’s dreams really come into their own. Or perhaps his experiences gave him the wisdom to deal with them appropriately. It’s one thing having gifts, it’s quite another knowing how to use them. As someone said: ‘Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is actually a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.’

More seriously, it’s interesting that as Joseph’s gifts develop, he seems to become more dependent on God. He says God enables him to interpret dreams. How might we give God glory for our talents?

Furthermore, any ability can be used for good or for evil. A well known example: nuclear technology could power the world without carbon emissions, or it could blow us all up.

It’s down to humanity what we do with it. Gifts and talents are given by God to be used for the good, but people can twist them to wickedness.

There is a moral ambiguity about this in the story of Joseph. After Joseph interpreted Pharaoh’s dreams he then displayed another gift. In verses 33 to 36 he advised Pharaoh on what to do about the looming famine. After all, Biblical prophecy is never given for idle curiosity, it was so that people could act upon it.

Sometimes, that’s so they can avert disaster by repentance. Here, in v32 says Joseph suggests they build up food reserves for hard times ahead. Pharaoh is so impressed with Joseph’s wisdom, that he gives Joseph the job of organising the plan. And so the original dreams of greatness are fulfilled, and Egypt is saved.

God uses this to bring healing in Joseph’s family too. Far away in Israel they are affected by the famine and come to buy grain, and after a complicated sequence of events, Joseph’s real identity becomes clear, he forgives his brothers, and the family move to Egypt permanently. So all’s well that ends well? Well, not quite. Later in the story In chapter 47 the famine is still ongoing…and then in verse 19b ‘the people said “buy us with our land in exchange for food. We with our land will become slaves to Pharaoh, just give us seed”. In times of plenty Joseph took the excess grain. In hard times he sold it back to the people – in exchange for their money, livestock, land, and very selves.

Power corrupts? Perhaps. Just following our God-given desires and developing our inbuilt talents is not enough. They have great potential, for better or for worse. We must ensure that we use our abilities, our vocation for the good.  

As the gospel reading reminds us, we have been given a trust. We should be ready with our gifts, able to serve. Using our talents for the good of all, our vocation to the glory of God. So that when the moment of truth comes, Christ will find us prepared.