Repentance

Giving a name is a task fraught with difficulties. For instance a baby’s name should be something the parents like – but have you thought about what happens when you shorten it? Christopher becomes Chris, which is ok, but some parents don’t like their Albert being called Bertie. Does the first name complement the surname? It’s always worth doing an internet search to make sure you’re not about to lumber your offspring with the same name as an American psychopath.

And if you’re naming a building, you might want to honour a famous benefactor – but what if society’s view of that person changes? More on the Colston Hall later.

Finally, does the name have a meaning? Is it one that you intend? In Biblical times children were often named after their father, as we hear in verse 59 of today’s reading from Luke’s Gospel. Surely he will be Zechariah? But the little boy’s mother wants to name him John. This is a shortened form of Johanan, which means God is gracious.

Perhaps that’s because this particular baby had been long awaited. However, there’s more going on here. Naming this boy John is an act of repentance, it is a sign that Zechariah is obeying God and doing what he was told. Repentance means turning back to God and doing his will.

Zechariah was a priest, and his number had come up. In those days there were so many priests that their duties were assigned by a lottery. Statistically, a priest had a once in a lifetime chance to serve in the temple. Zechariah’s big day arrives, he goes in and promptly sees an angel who tells him that, despite great age, he and his wife will have a son and they are to name him John. Perhaps years of disappointment have sapped Zechariah’s faith, because his response is to ask ‘How can I know that this will happen?’ For his lack of belief, he is condemned to be struck dumb until the day those things occur.

So when in verse 62 Zechariah asks for his communication aid, and writes on his tablet ‘His name is John’, his tongue is freed and he is able to speak! Through this practical action of naming the child, Zechariah commits himself to God’s will, and demonstrates that he has repented of not believing the angel. He acknowledges that his words and actions were wrong, he asks God’s forgiveness and wants to change. That’s what we mean by repentance.

As we continue our sermon series on prayer, thinking about repentance is really important because it opens the door to God in our prayer lives. Becoming aware of what we have done wrong, saying sorry, turning around, resolving to do better by God’s help is a really important part of prayer. That process of repentance is cleansing for the soul, and it’s a necessary preparation for the rest of our prayers to be really effective.

For it’s no good asking God to rain down blessings upon us, if we’re hiding from him under a great big umbrella! So often the way that God answers our prayers, showers good things onto us, is through our obedience. Which means that if we continue doing the wrong thing, persist in sin, it’s like digging up the seed we so carefully planted. Or our lives are so full of baggage we’re like a stream sweeping along so much dead wood and plastic bags that it can’t flow properly anymore.

Do you know what really annoys me? Really gets me going? It’s when someone asks me for help, to show them the solution to a problem, and then promptly ignores it! I’d rather not be asked in the first place than waste my time telling and showing, and then being disregarded. Yet I know I do that to God all the time. We need to ask the Holy Spirit to give us more self-knowledge, better insight into what we do, honest realism before God. We can’t hide anything from God – but the amazing thing is: however far gone we are, if we are open and honest with him, he accepts our confession and forgives us. Because Jesus died for us, took our sin on himself on the cross, repentance becomes for us the path to life. Properly understand, repentance is good and healthy.

In the story Zechariah acts and he speaks. He writes John’s name on a tablet, and then he praises God. It is important for us to do both of these things. It is good for us to confess our sins, like we do in general terms in church, and privately, more specifically, to God in personal prayer. It’s right that when we have confessed our sins, we then make an effort, with the Holy Spirit’s help, to live differently in future.

Either one of these is incomplete without the other. Words without actions are hollow. There is a real spiritual danger here: because the more times we say sorry for something but don’t change our behaviour, the weaker the effect of that confession becomes and the harder it is for us to be genuinely transformed. Words without action become an unhealthy turning over of the past, a dwelling upon things, or a superficial ‘sorry!’ on your way to doing the same thing again.

Perhaps it’s less obvious how actions without words are also incomplete. If the school bully changes and stops thumping the other children then everyone heaves a sigh of relief. But if that person has never said sorry, then they’ve never really acknowledged the harm their actions have done. Nor have they opened the way to forgiveness and face-to-face reconciliation. Often we’re satisfied when someone’s actions have changed, but words open the way to a deeper healing.

It’s this deeper healing that we see in the ministry of John the Baptist. Our reading from Acts summarises, in verses 24 and 25, what John did. He preached a baptism of repentance for all the people of Israel, preparing the way for Jesus. He turned people’s hearts back to God so that Jesus would receive a ready welcome. And then in verse 26, we find that this message of salvation has been sent to us.

So how does that happen? The good news that we can change if we admit our need of God affects us at different levels. Individuals, the church, the nation.
Like Zechariah the priest, the Church sometimes needs to repent. Pointing to Christ on earth it needs to hold to the highest standards. That’s why there’s been a review of the Church of England’s approach to child protection. Doing DBS checks and safeguarding training takes up a lot of time – but it is part of the church’s response to historic failures. It shows that there is corporate repentance for what has happened in the past, and demonstrates a resolve that such things will not be allowed to happen again.

There is also the question of the nation. Can a country say sorry for the things its ancestors did wrong? Recently a pardon was issued for the wartime codebreaker Alan Turing, which was very right and proper.

But words are easily said. Action is more difficult. And action is untargeted if we don’t think deeply. So for instance, we need to ask why the 18th century Bristol merchant Edward Colston was widely seen in his time as a good chap, a generous benefactor and philanthropist?
Why did someone who appeared to be a Christian just not see that there was a problem in having business interests which included the slave trade? How did he possibly think that was ok? How did he justify it? Did it even occur to him that it needed to be justified?

Until we ask those questions and engage with the history then we learn nothing. All we get good at is judging others by our own standards. The mistakes of the past will not shed light on our own times, or help us to discover our own hypocrisies and failings. Do we know what shares our pension funds own? How is it possible to buy a suit and shoes for £80?

Words which express regret are fine, but ‘what do we do?’ is a more difficult question. Is compensation appropriate to those directly affected by an injustice? Or to their descendants? What are we doing about racial equality and other forms of inclusion today? What about those who cannot speak for themselves because disability means they have no voice, or who cannot speak because they’ve not yet been born?
Repentance as a nation is complex, yet sometimes a whole society does realise it has taken a wrong turn. Sometimes nations do recalibrate, change their priorities and act. When we look back through history we see that national repentance often follows a change in the church, which itself follows on from repentance in the lives of individuals.

John the Baptist spoke directly to individuals in ways which were relevant to them. ‘Tax collectors, don’t take more than you’re entitled to. Soldiers, don’t use force to take stuff from the population. Rich people, share with the poor’.

He called everyone to repentance. Individuals, the religious establishment, the nation. How effective was it? Several times in the New Testament we read that the real sinners, the tax collectors and prostitutes, responded to John’s message. They knew they were doing wrong. They didn’t need anyone to point it out. They could see the good news, love and mercy in the message of Jesus and John.

But the religious professionals, the Pharisees and scribes didn’t. They thought they were doing ok. Their problems were less obvious but no less real: greed, self-righteousness, double standards. The challenge for churchgoing Christians today is obvious – religious commitment brings its own temptations. May we never be proud of our religious credentials. God forbid that we are proud of being Christians.

God can speak to each one of us. He can shine his gentle light into our hearts, showing us the places where we can change. If we ask him to, God will send the Holy Spirit to open our eyes and help us understand ourselves. He will give us self-knowledge and the desire to be transformed. Like taking out a rotten tooth, the process may not be comfortable, but you’ll be better off when it’s done! And if we encounter resistance within ourselves, then make that the subject of your prayers. For repentance is a gift from God, a way to life, and a core principle of prayer.

 

 

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Acts 15 to 27

How could you do that? You’ve betrayed me – you Judas! There can’t be many people that are so well known that their name has become a byword. The story of Judas betraying Jesus with a kiss has become the classic example of treachery. This means Judas is also one of the best known of all the apostles – his Wikipedia entry is four times the length of St Matthias who we also heard about in our Acts reading.

 

There are so many questions about Judas. Why did he do it? Was it really just for 30 pieces of silver? What made this man, who had been trusted enough to become an apostle, turn against his master? Did he have some issue with Jesus? Had he hoped for an all-conquering Messiah and become disillusioned? Or did Judas hope to force Jesus’ hand – that when the arrest came Jesus would have to reveal his glory? Does that explain why he was filled with remorse? But why did that remorse not turn to repentance which gives life? And if, as Peter says in v. 16, the Scripture had to be fulfilled so that we could be saved, how do we hold that together with Judas’ free will and responsibility?

 

There are many questions, with legend and speculation filling the gaps. Our reading from Acts chapter 1 verses 15-17 and 21 to the end, deals with Judas but then quickly moves on. He has gone, he has met his end, his place is vacant and needs to be filled. With the benefit of hindsight the gospel writers know that Judas will be the betrayer – but it wouldn’t have felt like that at the time. Judas was not an outsider, he was one of Jesus’ closest friends. He had an important job. What then will the apostles do about the gap which is left?

 

Perhaps you have been part of an organisation when a key person leaves. It might be the boss – but in my experience the central person in an organisation is often sat at a desk near the entrance. You know that administrator who’s been there for ever and knows everything? Particularly if that departure is unexpected there can be a real sense of anxiety and loss. Who is going to do their work? How much corporate memory have we lost? Will the company feel the same again?

But if the organisation has a strong identity, if there are others waiting in the wings to step up, then you can weather the storm. In the first chapter of Acts it’s clear that Jesus has thought about this, and prepared for this day. He has taken the trouble to identify and train other people.

 

I wonder how you imagine Jesus and his disciples travelling around? My children have a particular picture book which tries to show all twelve disciples. It’s really hard fitting them all on one page! I think about Jesus turning up, with twelve big hungry fishermen in tow – inviting Jesus and his friends to supper was a big deal!

 

Yet that’s not the sum of it – in verse 15 we find out that there are 120 disciples in this core group. The verse before tells us that Mary, various other women and Jesus’ brothers were all involved. It seems that Jesus organised the group in concentric circles: Peter James and John were an inner three, then the twelve and women like Mary Magdalene, then the 72 who got trained up on preaching missions, and then some more. As Peter says in v.21, many of them had been with Jesus from the beginning. There were people ready to step up.

 

Which poses a thought-provoking question. What would happen if you were no longer around? If, say, you got taken ill or had to care for a relative, what things do you do that someone else would have to take over? Who might that be? Are there people learning the skills who could step up? And if someone did take on that task, would they have the contacts and the instructions that they need? Would they find it written down, would they be able to ask someone else in the know, or would they have to start from scratch?

 

That can be quite an uncomfortable question. Particularly if what you do is quite skilled or technical, and there’s no one obviously keen. If so, it’s all the more important to try and share the load –  are there parts you can hive off? Ideally everybody should have someone they’re training up. Working together is good for us!

For that to work it also needs people who are willing to step up. So perhaps there is another question to ask everyone: is there a contribution you could make? Is there an area of service where you could make a difference? Is there something that interests you, a skill you’d like to learn, an ability that you already have that you could get more involved in and help an experienced person out? Doing so is incredibly rewarding – research has shown that helping other people is one of the key things in making ourselves happy!

 

The Early Church certainly gives the impression of being an organisation where everyone pulls their weight. We might imagine that they chose Matthias to replace Judas because they needed someone else to preach the gospel. But they didn’t. Everyone was doing it! If you read the Book of Acts, you find loads of people sharing the good news who aren’t among the apostles: Paul, Barnabas, Philip, Stephen, Aquila – the list goes on. Ordinary Christians prayed, lived out the gospel, spoke about their faith and the church grew. It should be a shared task.

 

Part of the reason why they needed Matthias is in verses 21 and 22: ‘One of the men who accompanied us from the beginning must become a witness with us of Jesus resurrection.’ While many Christians have encountered the risen Christ, while we all have his Spirit, the apostles were in the unique position of being witnesses of Jesus’ ministry. They saw it, they were there, and we can trust what they wrote.

 

Charles Colson was described as Richard Nixon’s hatchet man. He was sent to prison for his part in the Watergate scandal. He became a Christian and once said: I know the resurrection is a fact, and Watergate proved it to me. How? Because 12 men testified they had seen Jesus raised from the dead, then they proclaimed that truth for 40 years, never once denying it. Every one was beaten, tortured, stoned and put in prison. They would not have endured that if it weren’t true. Watergate embroiled 12 of the most powerful men in the world-and they couldn’t keep a lie for three weeks. You’re telling me 12 apostles could keep a lie for 40 years? Absolutely impossible.”

So the apostles were chosen as witnesses. Yet from Peter’s words it’s clear there were many such people. Why pick only one as an apostle?

 

Whenever the Early Church does something new, the apostles give their permission. When they decide to call some people deacons and give them a new role, it’s the apostles who initiate it. When Philip shares the good news in Samaria and people are converted, it’s the apostles Peter and John who go there to accept the new Christians and ensure they receive the Holy Spirit. When the Gentiles join the community, it’s by the actions of St Peter.

 

The apostles represent continuity with Jesus. They have the authority to interpret Jesus’ teaching for new circumstances. They are rooted in tradition but open to the future.

 

That is how the church must be. God’s community is not a chaotic free for all where anyone can do their own thing – no, it is grounded on the foundation of Jesus’ teaching, decisions are made together. Nor should the church be static, preserved in aspic, unable to change. The Holy Spirit leads us to respond to changed circumstances, new understanding.

 

That can be a difficult path to tread. Some of us would like to be more comfortable, prefer the familiar and well-loved. Others get frustrated with processes, forms, and the slow pace of change. We need to be like the Early Church: rooted in the teaching of Jesus, clearly continuous with what’s come before, yet also flexible, creative, permission giving. So we can interpret afresh the unchanging gospel for each generation.

 

(Perhaps one example of this is the way the new apostle is chosen. There are not many job interviews that involve drawing lots! Here there are two equal candidates, both qualified. They pray about it, then following an Old Testament practice trust that God’s will be made known through random lots.

I’m not sure that’s a recommended practice now. Later on in Acts, when similar decisions are made, people pray about it and God speaks to them. The difference here is that Pentecost has not happened, the Holy Spirit has not yet come. Maybe the apostles don’t yet have that immediate, personal guidance that the Holy Spirit brings? Surely when we have decisions to make we pray and listen to what God says?)

 

What about Matthias then? What great deeds did he end up doing? Actually, we don’t know. The Greek Orthodox church says he planted the faith in Cappadocia. The traditions give conflicting accounts about him – some say he lived to a ripe old age, or that he was stoned to death, or even eaten by cannibals. His feast day is tomorrow. Really there’s little we know for sure. This is the only time the Bible mentions Matthias – after this he disappears from the record. His is a cameo role, a walk on part.

 

Much like most of us I suspect. Few of us have more than a brief appearance on a public stage, yet each of us can create a significant impact. Matthias represents all those people who did faithful things, who did not become famous but did their bit and made a difference.

 

It is those people, their combined efforts, that changed the world. Sure, the apostles went places and planted churches. Yet in many places where the famous apostles went, they found new Christians were already there. Ordinary followers of Jesus had got there first and made converts. Merchants, travellers, people returning to their families, evangelists – unrecorded and unheralded had done their bit.

 

And when the apostles moved on, it was the folks on the ground who prayed, shared, loved and spoke. The apostolic churches in the cities planted in the towns, and thence to the villages. Whole countries knew Jesus through the faithful actions of people like you and me. Living out their calling, doing the things any of us can do, they changed the world. We can do likewise.

John 15:9-17

One of my family’s favourite days out is Avebury. It’s got everything: a short walk round the stones, hide and seek in the garden and then when you’ve worked up an appetite there’s a restaurant and pub. There’s an old church, and a museum with buttons to press.

 

The manor house is different from most National Trust properties in that you can get in the beds. None of those thistles to keep you off the chairs, quite the opposite. You are positively encouraged to live the life of a Victorian gentleman playing snooker or pretend to drink cocktails while listening to the wireless in the 1920s sitting room.

 

Interestingly, the children seem most engaged with the life of the servants. They can climb into the big Tudor 4 poster – and also slide out the little tray bed underneath for the manservant. And the biggest highlight is trying to cook with Victorian implements.

 

Increasingly historic houses are trying to show us what life was like for everyone – not just the gentry but the chambermaid and gardener’s boy too. We discover the servants lived a strange life – a precarious existence where they were easily dismissed for getting something wrong. They were absolutely vital, yet kept out of the way downstairs and in hidden passages. Fellow human beings, who if they met the master on the stairs, had to turn away and face the wall.

 

Some people imagine that God is like that. They think of God as the master and us a bit like servants. Mind your own business, be good, keep out of the way and you’ll be ok. Put a foot wrong though and you’ll be in trouble. And he definitely doesn’t want you to bother him.

 

Yet Jesus says in v14 that we are his friends. Jesus spoke this to the disciples in the upper room – but it applies to all of us. (We heard in the Acts reading how the Holy Spirit came on the Gentiles – and the Holy Spirit unites us with God today)

 

 

Can I ask you to think of a friend you have. What do you and your friend do together? How do you keep in touch – over the garden wall, with a cup of coffee or by Whatsapp? Do you share activities or just hang out? If that friend was in trouble, what would you do for them?

 

A friend is an amazing image. As a friend Jesus loves us. He likes us. He appreciates conversation with us in prayer. We can share our activities with him. He is the unseen guest at every meal.

 

Just the other day I was talking with a lady who’d been bereaved and she was telling me that whenever the grief was strong she brought it to Jesus. And she knew that he understood. Because he is a human being, because he has lived on this earth, because he lost loved ones and wept at the grave of Lazarus, Jesus understands. He is really with us, truly present in spirit, a friend for us.

 

Perhaps like me you find it easier to think of Jesus as the Lord we worship, the Risen Christ, our Saviour, the Heavenly King who will return. Let us also remember that he describes himself as our friend. He is glorious, yes, but that’s not a reason to keep him at arm’s length.

 

In verse 9 Jesus talks about the basis for our relationship with him. ‘As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you, abide in my love.’ So the love of Jesus for us came first. He loved us freely, right from the moment you were born. We do not have to win his love or earn the right to a relationship with him – it is a gift. And when we receive that gift, we abide, or rest, in his love by keeping his commands.

 

Many people imagine it the other way round. Even some Christians act and think as if they have to win their way into God’s affections, as if eternal life is a reward to be earned by good behaviour. To think like that is to condemn yourself to a treadmill of effort, a deadening, unfulfilling shadow of spirituality, in which the best is never enough.

 

It can’t be like that. in v.16 Jesus makes it quite clear that we did not choose him, but he chose us. He calls us and we respond. When we do so, we find, in v.11, that Christ’s joy is in us, and our joy is complete.

 

My Facebook feed has decided that I need cheering up. I don’t know what I’ve been searching for online, or whether Facebook has been listening in to my conversations but it’s clearly decided that I need a dose of joy in my life. So my feed is full of amusing videos, jokes, and articles describing the ‘7 Habits of Happy people’. A lot of that advice seems to be about choosing your mental attitude – deciding how you will react to life’s events – and what you give energy to thinking about.

 

There’s something in that which chimes with Christian spirituality. When you are faced with disappointment, will you dwell morbidly on it or bring it to God? Will you listen to the nagging voices that say ‘it simply can’t be done’ or will you step forward obediently in hope? Will your mind revisit resentments and criticise people, or will you choose to forgive, to give thanks? …What do you think about?

 

Can I suggest you observe yourself during the day – from time to time just stop and ask yourself– what am I thinking about it here? Are my thoughts bringing me life and joy? And if it’s not – don’t feed the gremlin, stop that train of thought – think of something good instead. Pray. Give thanks. Listen for God’s presence. And you’ll find his joy.

 

When we listen to God, as verse 14 says, we also know what he is doing. The Holy Spirit helps us understand God’s will as revealed to us in the Bible. As we get better at listening we also hear God’s specific guidance to each one of us for our own lives.

 

We learn to ask confidently too. In v.16 Jesus says ‘the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name’. Of course this isn’t a magic formula: Dear God, please give me an Aston Martin DB11’ and as long as I put ‘in Jesus name’ at the end the magic words give me what I want

 

‘In my name’ means in accordance with Christ’s will, seeking his glory, asking because it’s the kind of thing he would ask. But because we are his friends, we can ask confidently. A couple we know once put an email out ‘We’ve got all the money we need for our new house – but the cashflow has gone wrong. Can anyone out there give us a bridging loan for twenty thousand?’ And someone did. That’s friendship. You can ask God with confidence because you are friends with his son.

 

And because we are friends of his son, we are friends with one another. In v.12 Jesus says ‘This is my commandment that you love one another.’ He showed the greatest love possible for us when he laid down his life for us on the cross. He saved us from the penalties of sin by dying for us – it was the greatest thing he could give.

 

Now he calls us to love one another. To make sacrifices, to give up our time, to help those in need. As I travel around I constantly hear amazing heart-warming stories about practical love. The people who give lifts into hospital and cook meals. The friends who babysit so a busy couple can get to Housegroup. The neighbour who picks up someone else’s shopping at the same time. The legal advocate who gets on the phone on behalf of a vulnerable person. The praying person who wrestles on behalf of others. All this practical love goes on and it is wonderful.

 

Yet to do so, we need to know one another. We need to be open about our own needs, be genuine. We need courage to offer help and not be offended if it’s politely refused. Maybe first of all we need to know one another better. So speak to your neighbour when you see them. Stay for conversation after the service. Horror of horrors – when you come to church don’t always sit in the same place.

 

For when we abide in Jesus and love one another, we bear much fruit. I am so looking forward to the strawberry season! I have put so much work into that bed. The white flowers are just beginning, in a few weeks’ time the fruit will come. And joy will be mine! May we grow in Jesus, love one another, bear much fruit and know his joy. Amen.

Peace be with you

Luke 24:36b-48

here was some remarkable news announced last month. Scientists searching for a cure for diabetes have come up with a breakthrough. They looked at the genetics, and the way diabetes affects people and found that it is not one disease, but as many as five different types.

 

It could be great news. Of course, other scientists must check the idea is right. And then they’ve got to put it into practice by developing treatment. If they can do this, it could change the lives of millions.

 

In a way, you can think of the Resurrection as being similar. If the idea that Jesus rose from the dead is true, and if it can then be put into practice then it is life changing. For if Jesus really did rise then we need to take him seriously, it means he’s with us now. He opens the gate to life after death.

 

Our reading from Luke’s gospel sets out to do just that. St Luke deliberately records it so that anyone reading can be confident that Jesus is alive and so that it can make a change to us today. Luke describes something which happened late on the very first Easter day.

 

Imagine those disciples, all gathered together in secret with the doors locked. It has been the strangest of days, starting, as did Saturday, in the depths of grief. Some of the women went off to tend Jesus’ grave. Soon they rushed back, full of tales of angels and an empty tomb. But as v.11 tells us, the disciples didn’t believe them.

 

Someone goes with Peter, checks it out and finds the tomb is empty. Then Peter reappears in a hurry, claiming to have seen Jesus. While he’s still speaking two disciples burst in saying they spoke with Jesus while walking to Emmaus. Everyone’s struggling to get to grips with the news when a familiar voice says ‘Peace be with you’. They turn around. It’s Jesus! They jump a mile, gasp out loud. ‘The doors are locked. How did you get in here?’ ‘Aren’t you dead?’ ‘Is it a ghost?’

 

Was he a ghost indeed? Sometimes it has been suggested that what the disciples saw was some kind of apparition, wishful thinking, or maybe an hallucination. Jesus does four things to make it quite clear he’s real.

 

Firstly, he speaks. He reassures them. ‘Peace be with you’ is the standard Jewish greeting, but there is a deeper significance to it as well. You can know peace for Jesus is risen. Peace, not guilt, is ours because sin has been forgiven. Peace, not fear, can be ours, because Jesus has defeated death. His resurrection brings peace from God to humanity.

 

So if you are troubled by worry, remember that Jesus brings peace. If you find that concerns go round and round your mind and won’t leave you alone – perhaps you could try imagining that upper room. Imagine being one of those disciples. Imagine Jesus speaking peace to you. Imagine his breath blowing away those worries. Allow yourself to experience his peace.

 

As we look at events in the world around us, we might feel that peace is very far away. Talking about peace might make us think of getting away from it all, shutting out the world, curling up in a little ball and trying to focus on feeling peaceful. But that’s not Christian peace. Christian peace comes as we engage with the world, as we share in its pain, and bring it to God in prayer. Christian peace comes from involvement, when we have done what we can and entrust it to God. Christian peace holds the big picture in mind, is peaceful because nothing can separate us from the love of God.

 

The second piece of evidence Luke sets out for the reality of the Resurrection is that Jesus can be touched. In v.39 Jesus tells them to touch his hands and feet – and they are solid ‘a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.’ In John’s gospel the emphasis is on Christ’s hands and his side, referring to the crucifixion wounds and showing that it’s really Jesus, who really died. Luke’s emphasis shows that his resurrection body is a physical body that can be touched.

 

For, thirdly, Jesus eats a piece of fish. (presumably if he was a ghost you’d be able to see it go in and get churned around like a barium meal!) All this tells us that Jesus really is alive, in a physical sense. It’s very important. Sometimes people will talk about the inner meaning of the Resurrection, or the hope that Jesus is still with us today, in a way that seems to deny that the physical body of Jesus was raised. But this gospel makes it clear that Jesus appearances at the Resurrection were not just some kind of vision or symbolic message. He spoke, ate and the disciples touched him.

 

Why is this important? It’s not simplistic or literalistic. This belief makes a difference for our future hope. For where Jesus is, we shall follow. The destiny he has is the one we shall enjoy. So we can be confident that when we die our future is not as an immaterial, insubstantial ghostly sort of thing. You will not be a drop that loses itself in the ocean. Nor merely a memory in the mind of God. But truly, really alive. Ourselves, and more ourselves than we have ever been.

 

Yet at the same time, Jesus clearly doesn’t have a body exactly like he had before. He can appear behind locked doors, come and go at will between places that are miles apart. It’s as if it’s a physical body which can also inhabit a spiritual dimension. In 1 Corinthians 15 St Paul tells us that the physical, earthly body is different from the heavenly body. He uses the image of a seed: which grows into a plant that is in many ways very different from the seed, yet genetically the same. We cannot understand what the new body is like until we experience it ourselves…

 

The fourth thing Jesus does is explain to them that all this was predicted in the Old Testament. It is easier to believe if you can see how it was foretold. It makes sense as part of God’s plan: ‘Thus it is written: that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name.’

 

And one way it makes a real world difference. It’s a message to be shared. The disciples were witnesses to what happened to Jesus, they needed to tell others. In obedience to Jesus’ command they did so and that is why we are here today, because they told others, who passed it on and eventually the church was founded here.

 

We today are part of that succession. You and I have inherited that message of the risen Jesus. And we also have our own experiences, ways in which we know that Jesus is alive. Christians today know Jesus in prayer – the peace which he breathed on the disciples is felt today when we meet him as we pray.

 

We may not touch the physical body of the risen Jesus, but we receive him in bread and wine. Perhaps you have had the sense of him speaking to you, maybe as very personal guidance or as the words of Scripture coming alive.

 

So Jesus calls us to know him and to share that good news with others. That is what we are here for. Over the last month I’ve been to plenty of church annual meetings. We talk about buildings – keeping the roof on, reordering, finances, trying to get enough people to do the jobs. All of which is, in its own way, necessary and important. But that’s all a means to an end. The heart of what we’re here for, the reason for the church, is to know the risen Jesus alive today and to share that good news with the people around so that they can come to know him too.

 

Of course that can be quite a challenge. When Mary and her companions said that they had seen angels at the empty tomb, the disciples disbelieved them. They were still surprised when Jesus appeared, even after Peter and the Emmaus two had spoken. If we share our faith, we may find that it takes a while for people to understand. Not everyone will. Don’t give up. After all, even the disciples were hard to convince.

 

Perhaps there is a clue why in the final verse of our reading: Jesus says ‘See I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high’.

 

In other words they must wait to be given the Holy Spirit. The Spirit had not yet come when Mary told the disciples. And it is the Spirit who convinces people of the truth about Jesus. The meaning for us is clear: We should pray that the Spirit will move in people’s hearts to convict them of the truth. We should pray too that we may be filled with the Spirit so that our testimony comes with the Spirit’s power. For this is good news, an event in the physical world which makes a life changing difference. It’s good news today, for all the world. So let’s pray that Spirit will come and fill our witness to the Risen Lord…

Mark 1:21-28

What difference does following Jesus make? Or, to put it another way, what would life be like if you weren’t a Christian? What would you miss? What hope would be absent?

 

Jesus makes a difference to people’s lives. He transforms us, changing us in many ways. Our reading from Mark 1:21-28 tells us that Jesus makes a difference in our lives today because he is the Son of God, because he has authority.

 

That authority comes up several times in the gospel reading. We first see it in verse 21 ‘They went to Capernaum.’ Who is ‘they’? Simon, Andrew, Peter and John. The fishermen who left their nets in response to Jesus’ call and followed him.

 

Do we imagine this as a completely spur of the moment decision? The reading we had from John’s gospel a couple of weeks ago suggests that Jesus had met at least some of these men before. Some of them had been disciples of John the Baptist, who pointed Jesus out to them. So it wasn’t a completely random leap into the unknown. They knew Jesus, had seen and heard him, had a chance to be convinced. When he called, they put down their nets and followed him.

 

Maybe you’ve known the call of Jesus as voice beckoning you on? As an irresistible draw, a deep longing, a knowledge that he has what you’re searching for, an understanding that life without him will never fulfil. Some people he commands clearly and suddenly, others grow towards him like a plant seeking the light.

 

And Jesus keeps on calling us. When we decide to follow him, our journey is only begun. In each different circumstance of life Jesus calls us to be faithful, to discern his will and grow the Kingdom of God in the best way we can. Sometimes he calls us to other places, to something new. Sometimes he calls us to an adventure in the place where we already are. Don’t imagine you have to become someone else to respond to Christ’s call. Ask him what he wants you to be, here, now.

When we respond to his call, we begin to change. I wonder if you have seen this happen with someone else? A new light in their eyes, a new demeanour, the sharp edges being rubbed off as the Holy Spirit gets to work, a more compassionate more servant hearted personality.

 

The disciples in the reading are only beginning their journey with Jesus, and they still have a lot to learn. If you ever take a trip to the Holy Land, one of the highlights is the tour round the ruins of Capernaum. You can still see a synagogue, built later on top of the one in which Jesus taught that very day.

 

It’s interesting that Jesus did teach. For he wasn’t a priest. He hadn’t been to the university or scribal school. And yet, as v.23 tells us ‘They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority and not as the scribes.’

 

What does that mean? If you look at records of teaching from those times, it often follows a particular pattern. There will be a Bible verse –and someone will ask a question about it. So there’s a verse in the Old Testament which talks about lying. Somebody asks, are white lies ok? Here’s a real example: they ask: should you say a bride is beautiful, even if she’s not? Rabbi Shammai says no, you should never lie. Another Rabbi, Hillel, says all brides are beautiful on their wedding day. And then the teachers would discuss the relative merits of each viewpoint.

 

It reads like case law. It cites verdicts and appeals to precedent. It’s practical, wants to do the right thing, but is backward looking and often patriarchal. Seldom in this approach does God’s Word come to life, it feels like a dusty text, the object of study in a museum case.

 

Jesus is completely different. He goes straight to the heart of the question. When they asked him ‘Should we pay taxes to Caesar or not?’ he asked for a coin. ‘Whose inscription and image is this?’ ‘Caesar’s’, they replied. ‘Well then, give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.’ He always had a new angle.

 

Jesus recognised this himself. Often in the Sermon on the Mount Jesus teaches: ‘You have heard that it was said’ – referring to the arguments of the Rabbis – ‘but I say to you…’ I say to you? Who is this who can sweep aside centuries of tradition? Who has the audacity to ignore the opinions of the elders, and set forth his own as a replacement? Who can speak as if he alone knows the true meaning of God’s law? Who does Jesus think he is?

 

God’s own Son. Only the Son of God could reinterpret God’s Word with such authority and clarity. Only He could distinguish so clearly between the true intention of Scripture and the layers of encrusting tradition. The way Jesus teaches shows us his authority as Son of God. When we read Jesus’ teaching, let’s not turn it into a dry study. Let’s not make it a project of acquiring knowledge. Let’s ask him to show us the living beating heart of his word. His glorious will for us.

 

The implications of the way Jesus teaches may not be clear to everyone in the reading, but one man grasps it. With supernatural insight, in verse 24 he cries out ‘You are the Holy One of God!’ He is correct in that, but Jesus tells him to be quiet. For this revelation has not come through the Holy Spirit, but though spiritual forces opposed to God. ‘Have you come to destroy us?’ they cry in fear. No, Jesus has not come to destroy people but to set them free.

 

And so Jesus heals the man and liberates from the spiritual power which oppresses him. This is really important, because it is a sign of the Kingdom of God. When evil is defeated, when people are set free from spiritual darkness, then the Kingdom of God really is among us.

 

I knew of a woman who had got involved in the occult. At first it seemed fun, fascinating even. Then it was an opportunity to make money, as friends turned to her for readings and mediumship. But after a while, the darkness began to grow and take over. She started experiencing weird things, hearing voices, she was no longer in control, running scared.

Desperate, she turned to the church and was prayed for. She repented of what she’d done, turned to Christ and was delivered from the oppression. It was an amazing liberation for someone very troubled.

 

We might not think that kind of thing happens very much, but you’d be surprised. The name of Jesus has power – to bring peace to disturbed homes, calm into troubled lives. The Kingdom of God defeats evil.

 

In many ways, Jesus’ authority can set us free, from all sorts of things. I know a man who was dependent on alcohol. Not strictly an alcoholic, but relying on a drink or two to get through the day. The power of Jesus has set him free.

 

Now, that man has to watch himself in future. He knows that a single drink might make him fall off the wagon. The legacy of his past will probably stay with him for the rest of his life. There is healing, but not to make the problem vanish. He must still depend on God. I know several faithful Christians who are just about managing to keep their heads above the water. People who are using all the grace God can give to deal with depression, ME or other illness. It’s a real struggle for them to get by.

 

Why does God not simply take it away? If Jesus has authority over the chains that bind us, why does he not set us completely free? Why this day to day struggle? Why a kind of partial healing, depending on God until the day comes when we are fully free? It feels like that with physical healing too. In the verses after this reading, Jesus heals Peter’s mother in law. She has a fever, and Jesus helps her up and she recovers completely. Jesus has power over sickness, so why is that not always experienced?

 

I live with that question all the time. I live with a child who in many ways has received healing. People have prayed earnestly, and he has done much better than expected, miraculously he keeps on going. His capabilities have exceeded anything anyone dared to predict. A week on Monday he will be the subject of a documentary about his political campaigning and poetry – yet he still inhabits a broken body.

 

To Jonathan the power of Jesus to change lives is real. He knows the difference God has made – and is the most content person I have ever known. He looks forward to the day when he shall be made complete, healed in eternity. That overarching perspective reminds us that the Kingdom of God is not yet complete, that our final liberation is yet to come.

 

For in this reading, the King, the Chosen One, the Son of God begins to bring in his Kingdom. The signs of the Kingdom of God are everywhere. All around us. We see the Kingdom of God when people find new life in Jesus. When lives are transformed by Christ’s authoritative teaching. We experience the power of the Kingdom of God in victory over evil. When lives are set free, broken creation is healed and restored. We respond as Jesus calls us to journey with him and play our part in growing the Kingdom of God.

 

The Kingdom of God begins, and it continues to grow, until eventually it will be fulfilled in God’s presence. Jesus changes lives. He did so then, and he does so now. This is the message, and the power, that he invites us to share. Let us seek to live by Christ’s authority in every area of life. Let us submit everything to him. And may we see his power to bring change impact positively on those around us.

 

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.

 

Epiphany

Epiphany is about Kings – but which ones? This story from Matthew seems to focus on kings– but not the ones we might think of. ‘We three Kings of orient are’ goes the carol – yet the Bible doesn’t call them kings, rather Magi, often translated wise men. Perhaps if they had been had been wiser, their gifts for a new mother might have been nappies, enough casserole to last a week, and a plentiful supply of chocolate…

 

So the Magi aren’t kings. What about Herod? Yes, he’s just a puppet of the Romans, yet Herod has real power over life and death. However v.1, in that little double edged phrase ‘in the time of King Herod’ hints that Herod’s time is passing away. The first readers of Matthew’s gospel would have known that Herod died soon after these events.  His earthly kingdom will not last.

 

Really, the king here is King Jesus. Herod in his splendour, the wise men with their gifts, these are not the true kings. The baby lying in the manger will grow up to be God’s king. In Jesus, God’s promised Saviour comes to reign. He offers us the way into God’s Kingdom. How then we will we respond?

 

It’s worth thinking about what we mean by the Kingdom of God. God’s Kingdom does not just mean that God reigns in heaven and one day we shall go to join him there. If that was all it meant, then why did Herod feel so threatened? Why bother to kill Jesus if his purpose in life was just to sort out what happens after we die? If Jesus came preaching a privatised spirituality or a personal morality then why was he crucified?

 

The Christian church has often misunderstood the Kingdom of God; narrowed it down, turned it into something purely spiritual. Often we’ve focussed so much on the truth that Jesus offers us eternal life, that we’ve forgotten that this world matters to God too. Both are important. We’ve emphasised that Jesus died on the cross so our sins could be forgiven – without realising that also means that all of God’s glorious creation will be healed. He plans a total restoration.

Jesus did not just tell us how to live as we wait for heaven – he told us how God’s Kingdom begins, grows and changes this world.

 

The Kingdom of God breaks in whenever God’s reign is recognised. We join it when we accept Jesus as Lord – and we grow the work of the Kingdom as we live God’s way. The Kingdom of God brings justice, joy, peace, forgiveness, a new community following Jesus. It has implications for all of life: political, economic and environmental.

People sometimes say that the church is irrelevant – but look at the places where the church is making a difference today: debt cancellation; campaigning and practical steps to end modern slavery; providing food banks so families in a poverty trap can get a decent meal; inquiries like that for Hillsborough which bring truth and justice.

 

So when we look at our New Year’s resolutions, how does faith make a difference? Are the things we hope to do all about ourselves: lose weight, eat better, drink less, get healthier – or can we include hopes, steps towards a better world? Where can we see the Kingdom of God growing around us? Can we listen to what God is doing and join in?

 

For the Kingdom of God affects this world. It’s obvious in the passage we’ve just read: the Magi are Gentiles which tells us that this Jewish Messiah has come for all people. Even the natural world is affected as a star points the way to his birth. It is a Kingdom for this earth, in all its messiness, making a real change because it comes in a different way.

 

There was a remarkable example of the way earthly kingdoms work just this past week. Kim from North Korea had boasted about his nuclear button. Donald from the States went onto Twitter to say that his nuclear button is much bigger than Kim’s, and what’s more it works.

 

That’s all about power and force. But the Kingdom of God doesn’t work this way. The Kingdom of God doesn’t even move forward by the good guys being stronger, in a traditional way, than the bad guys.

The Kingdom of God is not about doing what the world does. Nor is it about doing something a little bit different, more moral, but in a bigger and better way. Its ethos is radically different.

 

I wonder who’s seen the new Star Wars film? I really enjoyed it – it’s a break with tradition, refreshing. And to get the best from the action, it’s really worth seeing in the cinema.  I’ll try not to give too many details away – hopefully this doesn’t need a spoiler alert! There’s a bit where one character saves another – and she says: ‘that’s how we’re going to win. Not fighting what we hate, but saving what we love.’

 

It reminded me of the cross. Those gifts that the wise men bring are a kind of prophecy. Gold speaks of royalty; frankincense symbolises an offering; while myrrh is used at the time of death. This is a king who will bring in his kingdom in a totally new way.

 

The gospels point towards the cross as the place where Jesus wins his victory. They allude to it as being like a throne. Which seems a bit odd – given that to all intents and purposes death by crucifixion looks like an abject failure. Yet this is God’s way of victory. For Jesus does not defeat evil by having a larger army. He doesn’t squish empires by force of arms. What happens on the cross is that God’s Son Jesus, as a representative of humanity, allows evil to do its worst to him. He offers himself, makes himself vulnerable, and evil pours itself out in hatred upon him until it has nothing left. Jesus wins the victory by draining sin of its power, by dying our death, saving us whom he loves.

 

Which may help us to face the obvious objection: If you say God is the King of our world, have you looked out the window recently? Since 2018 began we’ve had stabbings, riots and threats of nuclear war. So if God’s supposed to be reigning what’s he up to?

 

 

Our reading from St Matthew is well aware that evil can still wreak horror. Immediately after this reading, Matthew tells of how Herod in his jealous rage ordered the death of every boy under the age of two in Bethlehem. Herod planned to wipe out the infant Messiah.

 

 

Yet for all his anger, Herod was unsuccessful. God’s plan was not thwarted. Today evil still rages in our world, but its ultimate defeat is guaranteed. Jesus has won the victory on the cross – and the Kingdom is growing. Small at first, like a mustard seed or a handful of yeast it will nonetheless spread through all the dough. And eventually the time will come when Jesus returns and the whole creation will be judged and renewed.

 

When William Wilberforce and his friends won the key vote to ban slavery in the British Empire, there were still struggles. The law had to be implemented, patches of resistance cleared up. Even in our own day, people are had up for forced labour and domestic servitude. But the passing of that law was the decisive victory.

 

In a similar kind of way, Christ’s victory has been won on the cross, but God’s people may still be called to follow in that way of the cross. Working for the Kingdom of God may involve sacrifice – the wise men travelled many miles, endured danger, and gave generously. Staying in God’s plan may involve us setting off into the unknown, like Mary and Joseph who fled to Egypt.

 

As we begin a New Year, we do not know what the future holds. We may be called to trust God in the midst of darkness. We may be asked to make sacrifices. If we do, let us remember that we do so knowing that Christ is King and that the world is his. If we face challenges, let us remember that Christ has won the victory. And may we, like the wise men, know the presence of the King and be filled with his joy.