Cranmer, Calvin, and a Godly Synod.

Just a brief post today, as I wanted to share a quotation which I stumbled across on Facebook.

It details part of an ongoing conversation between Thomas Cranmer - Archbishop and architect of the English Reformation - and John Calvin - famous for inventing Calvinism, which is not really true - concerning a 'godly synod' intended to oppose the Roman Catholic Council of Trent.

Here is the quotation (from Cranmer to Calvin):

"As nothing is more destructive to the church than heresies and disputes respecting the doctrines of religion, so nothing is more efficacious in gathering together the churches of God, or more powerfully strengthens the flock of Christ, than the uncorrupted doctrine of the gospel and agreement in opinion. Wherefore I have often desired, and still do desire, that learned and pious men who pass others in learning and judgment, should meet in some place free from danger, where by mutual deliberations and comparison of their opinions, they might consider all the points of ecclesiastical doctrine, so that by weighty authority they might hand down to posterity a work, not only rightly setting forth the doctrines themselves, but also the manner in which they should be expressed. Our adversaries now hold a council at Trent, endeavouring to establish errors, and shall we neglect to hold a godly synod, in which we may refute errors, correct erroneous doctrines, and set forth those things which are true? I am told that they are constructing decrees respecting the worship of the bread — surely we ought to use every means possible, not only to fortify others against this idolatry, but also that we ourselves may agree in doctrine respecting this sacrament. You must be well aware how much the dissensions and varieties of opinions respecting this sacrament of unity, have undermined and shaken the church of God. Although in some places these dissensions now no longer exist, yet I would wish for agreement concerning this doctrine, not only as to the matter itself, but also as to the words and manner of expression. I have now stated my desire, which I have also communicated to Melancthon and to Bullinger, and I entreat you to consider amongst yourselves in what manner such a synod may best be assembled. Farewell. From Lambeth, 20th March, 1552."

Your most beloved brother in Christ, Tm Cantuar."[1] 

[1]  Cranmer, Thomas. Writings of the Rev. Dr. Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury and Martyr, 1556. Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication, 1842. 

Justification by Faith and Baptismal Regeneration

This week, I've been working through a little book on historical theology, particularly how - if at all - we participate in God's work of bringing about justification. This book, which is cited below, inevitably crosses the issue of baptism. This is following a fascinating Formulary Friday post by Tom Woolford over on the Church Society Blog, which concerned a particular phrase in the Book of Common Prayer Baptismal Service:

"seeing now this child is regenerate"

There is much that can be said about the way that Anglican theology has been, and continues in certain quarters, to be shaped by both the over-arching theological themes found in the formularies, and the specific phraseology found that seems to run contrary to the grain of the whole. This conversation, however, is helpful as it allows a vital context for other conversations to take place.

It is in this vital context that I want to explore Calvin's Causal Schema offered contra to the Council of Trent,[1] wherein - leaning on an Aristotelian fourfold division of causality - he argues that the causation in play, concerning justification by faith alone by grace alone, should be understood as follows:

1. The Efficient Cause - The Mercy of God
2. The Meritorious Cause - Christ
3. The Instrumental Cause - Baptism ("the Sacrament of Faith")
4. The Formal Cause - The Righteousness of God (in that he makes us righteous) [2]

Elsewhere Calvin seems to drop baptism as the instrumental cause, focusing solely on faith, our faith, as the instrumental cause by which justification is brought about [3] yet, even there he argues that baptism is conductive to our faith in God. [4] So for Calvin, faith without baptism seems almost unthinkable.

This 'both/and' approach to baptism and faith finds itself expressed within the 39 articles

"Baptism is not only a sign of profession, and mark of difference, whereby Christian men are discerned from others that be not christened, but it is also a sign of Regeneration or New-Birth, whereby, as by an instrument, they that receive Baptism rightly are grafted into the Church; the promises of the forgiveness of sin, and of our adoption to be the sons of God by the Holy Ghost, are visibly signed and sealed, Faith is confirmed, and Grace increased by virtue of prayer unto God."[5]

Although the detailed work of presenting a fourfold causal schema is not undertaken here (and rightly not so, as I suspect a strict  aristotelianism cannot be found within the pages of scripture), and yet we see clearly this notion of instrumentality.

However, and here is the crux, "they that receive Baptism rightly".

We are not to infer that this is a point that appertains to the worthiness of the minister; rather I would contend those that receive baptism as a sign and seal of the grace which is given in the elect, are those who receive baptism rightly.

Evensong 31 July - Psalm 95

Introduction:

What is God like, and how should we respond?

Two big questions.

These are two very big questions for fifteen minutes on a Sunday evening.

Theologians, philosophers, thinkers, and I’m sure all of us have spent time asking these two questions.

So before we begin to look at the psalm in more detail, let us pray:

        Heavenly Father...

The psalms were written by people who spent their lives trying to answer these questions as best they could. Through them, and through their words, God offers us answers to the big questions like “what is God like, and how should we respond”. This psalm is no different, it answers the first question: “what is God like” by telling us ‘God is our sovereign Creator and he is our shepherd’. The second question: How should we respond? The psalm says ‘We should worship and listen to his voice’. And what does his voice tell us? It tells us not to harden our hearts and rebel against him, because if we do – we will not enter his rest.

God is Creator and shepherd; we should worship and listen; God tells us not to harden our hearts.

So, by way of an overview: you may have noticed that Psalm 95, is a psalm of two halves.

The first half (verses 1-7) is an exhortation, or an encouraging command to, worship. In this first section, God is the sovereign creator who has saved a people for himself. Although this refers back to the saving of the people of Israel from Egypt, it is no less true for us who have been saved from sin by the cross. It says also He is a shepherd to his flock, again, we understand that to mean he shepherds those who seek him by faith, the church.

The second half (verses 7-11) is God’s warning to us not to harden our hearts, not to make demands of him just because we are, outwardly, a part of the people of God.

Let’s take a few minutes to look at the detail.

First point (verses 1-7) – Praise and Worship

The psalm takes us on something of a ‘spiritual journey’, not unlike our service this evening. And it does so, beginning in verse one and two where the psalmist encourages us in our singing.

I’m pleased to say that I think you have all taken his command to heart, because I think we’ve all excelled in singing for joy to the LORD this evening. But, we aren’t gathered as a ‘singing club’, are we? Likewise, the psalmist doesn’t just tell us we should worship the LORD in song and thanksgiving, he tells us why we should. And, it is quite straight forward looking at verses 3-5:

 “for the LORD is the Great God, the great King above all gods”.

Now, are there other gods? Many people in the ancient world when this psalm was written simply accepted that there were. They knew that other nations worshipped multitudes – perhaps they were “real”? The psalmist doesn’t entertain the discussion. even if there were other gods, the LORD is the King over all. He is the great God. And so, it is not hard for us to see our modern gods in the same light – perhaps the most popular of these, money, or success, or anything that distracts us from a life of discipleship – a life following Jesus -  we have made into a god. We have worshipped it. We have committed idolatry. But, when we compare our little gods, money, success, anything, to the Great God the LORD we see that our gods are no gods at all. We should worship as a response when we recognise who God is, and what he is like.

The psalmist takes us on further – we have sung and given thanks (verses 1-2), we have been confronted with the greatness of God and our duty to respond to him in praise (verses 3-5) – now the psalmist calls us deeper into worship. We are to bow ourselves down, to kneel before him, but not out of fear. Rather, we are to do so as we recognise his care for us. Verse 7 tells us that we the Church (the Israel of God) are the flock under his care. God is frequently thought of as shepherd in the Bible – Perhaps most famously in Psalm 23 The Lord is my Shepherd, but also when Jesus calls himself the Good Shepherd in the gospels. God cares for us, and this is cause to praise, but also cause to listen to his voice. Jesus says not only that he is the Good Shepherd, but also that his sheep know his voice.

And so, finally in this first half of the psalm, the psalmist culminates in a plea for those who hear the psalm to listen to the voice, or the message of God. This is in the end of verse 7: “O that today you would listen to his voice!”.

Second Point (verses 7-11)– God’s Voice, God’s Warning

We have been called to hear the voice of God. And that is the purpose of a sermon or a Bible study, to hear God speak from the pages of scripture. And just in case we were in any doubt as to the content of God’s message, the second half of this psalm from verse 8, is a summary of what God has to say to us.  It can be thought of as a summary of the witness of the Old Testament. “Do not harden your hearts as at Meribah, as on the day at Massah in the wilderness”.

To be honest with you, I had to look these two places up! How often is it that we fail to understand the Bible fully because we simply haven’t spent enough time exploring the stories, looking at the people, the events, the places, and seeing how God has worked through all of them. To get to the bottom of this we need to find Exodus 17:7 – jot it down if you are taking notes, it is worth a look later  – a biblical concordance would have sent you there, or a good commentary on the text.

Reading from the start of the chapter, we hear of a quarrel that broke out among the Israelites and Moses. The people of God had recently been freed from slavery in Egypt by mighty miracles, and led away to safety, but they still demanded more. They demanded water by miraculous sign. They doubted God, and tested him. Even those they were visibly within the people of God, their hearts had not learned to trust God as their rock. And so, the place was called Massah which means testing, and Meribah which means contention. They had Moses strike a rock to produce water, which they thought would save them from thirst. But they were foolish and stubborn because the Lord is the rock of our salvation. We heard that in verse one, and as the ancient Israelites needed to be reminded, so do we. It is no different now, for the people of God, the Church. We might be visibly “in”, but we have failed to grow in trust and faith, because we have not yet learned to see who God is, and we have not yet listened to his voice.

Conclusion

Do we put God to the test? Are our hearts so hardened that we do not believe he rewards those who seek him by, as Hebrews 11:6 tells us in no uncertain terms. We must learn to trust the providence of God, his forward planning. We can trust him because we can know what he is like. We saw that in the first half of the psalm. He is the great God, who makes a people for himself to shepherd.  In the Old Testament he did this by at the exodus; in the New Testament we see him completing this work on the cross.  

He shepherds his people, and speaks to them by his word. And when he speaks to his people, he warns them. He warns them so that they might return to him. He warns them not to harden their hearts, and refuse to obey because in so doing they miss out on entering into his rest.

This is serious stuff, but we must not forget: The voice of God that calls to us from this psalm this is cause to rejoice. God wants us to turn to him in joy and worship, with humble hearts, so that we may enter into his rest. So come Let us shout aloud to the rock of our salvation  - Amen

 

 

Lent Three and The Barren Fig Tree - A Sermon

Third Sunday of Lent: Luke 13:1-9

Introduction:

Good morning, it is a pleasure and a privilege for me to come and speak with you this morning. For those who don’t know me, my name is Mark Broadway, and I’m a “Trainee Vicar” on placement here for the next few weeks.

This morning, I will be speaking mainly on the Gospel reading, and trying to get to the bottom of Jesus’ strong words. The Gospel reading causes us to think about sinfulness, and how Jesus himself is our only refuge. We will conclude by seeing how the scripture tells us about God’s faithfulness, and how patient he has been with us.

So let us pray:

Heavenly Father, we thank you for the gift of your Word to us – we pray that you would speak to us again through these scriptures, by your spirit, amen.

Before looking at the Gospel reading, and it would help me if you were to have it in front of you, I want to set the context of this sermon, by thinking a little about some news stories from this past week. Last Sunday, the Islamic State group, known as ISIS or ISIL, claimed responsibility for two particular bomb attacks; one in the Syrian capital Damascus and the other in the city of Homs, which together have left at least 140 people dead. Both of last Sunday's attacks targeted areas dominated by Islamic minorities, different Islamic denominations reviled by the Sunni Muslim radicals of IS.

Another news story this week concerns a clean-up operation that has been taking place this week in Fiji, after the most severe cyclone to hit the island in living memory killed at least 20 people. Aerial imagery showed some villages, particularly in outlying areas, were completely destroyed. One local man told Reuters news agency the damage was so extensive that "it looks like a different country".
How often it is that our newspapers are filled with such terrible reports?

Too often.

And just as often, we try to find some way of explaining away the tragedy, some way of keeping the reality of suffering at arms’ length from ourselves. We want to believe that we are separate, safe and secure. We want to believe that we have a refuge.

One of the ways that people have always tried to do this, to make themselves feel better in the face of great suffering is to blame the victims. Perhaps, I hope, very few people would try to say those civilians murdered by ISIS were guilty of something and “had it coming”. Or that God was using the cyclone to punish the people of Fiji for some sins. And yet, we do often hear these ideas, even in this country: In January 2014 a UKIP councillor, David Silvester, blamed that year’s storms and heavy floods across Britain on the Government's decision to legalise same sex marriage. Mr Silvester said the prime minister had acted "arrogantly against the Gospel", and that the legislation would result in "disaster".

I think we can be very quick to point a finger at those who are suffering, and blame it on some hidden sin. When we do this, we show clearly that we have taken refuge in our own good behaviour. And, ever has this been so. Our Gospel reading shows us both this instinct, and Jesus’ response. As with all of scripture, we can take today’s reading and use it to help build a lens, or way of seeing these sorts of events; Rightly understood they can become a call to attend to our own spiritual lives.

Today’s Gospel reading begins with people coming to Jesus with news of an act of political suppression against a group of Galileans. This was an event that took place in Jerusalem, a place to which the whole of Luke’s Gospel points. It is not clear from history what exact event this was, but it is thought to be just one example of the frequent religious uprisings, and vicious reprisals that characterised the time. In dealing with these events Jesus is dealing with the reality of the end that awaits him as he journeys through Luke’s Gospel to Jerusalem, we saw this in last week’s Gospel reading, which spoke of Herod wanting to Kill Jesus.

So, what does Jesus say when confronted with this news? Luke records for us Jesus’ words in verse two: ‘Do you suppose these Galileans who suffered like that were greater sinners than any other Galileans? They were not, I tell you.’ Jesus gives us no scope for finger-pointing, or for moral superiority. But rather, he takes the opportunity to force us to face up to our common shared, human sinfulness. He says in clear language: “Do you suppose these Galileans who suffered like that were greater sinners than any other Galileans? They were not, I tell you. No; but unless you repent you will all perish as they did.”

Luke, in writing these passages down for us is combating the incredibly popular theology that says ‘if you are good, you will be blessed; if you are bad you will be cursed’; this is a theology of works and law and bondage. The Christ proclaimed throughout Luke’s Gospel is a Christ who comes to set us free. Jesus tells us about a God who rewards us out of his own loving kindness, not because we have earned it. Jesus makes it clear for us that what happened to these men was not an example of punishment for any particular sin; rather they were examples of our common sinfulness, which is the desire to seek refuge in anything aside from the grace of God.

Jesus, taking the opportunity to turn this encounter into a teaching session, drives the message home by repeating this theme in a similar story. This time, in verse four, about some men who had built a tower which collapsed upon them; Again, history records little of this event for us, but it seems that it was a current local news story, into which Jesus spoke. Again we see that these men were not particularly sinful, but are examples of the sin we all share, the desire to seek refuge in anything other than the grace of God.


To summarise what Luke has recorded for us: Regarding the Galileans; they sought refuge in religious/political causes. And yet, they found none. As for the men of Siloam; they sought refuge in strength of arms, in human might. And yet, they found none. Christ makes it plain for us in this teaching, if we do not repent, that is to turn ourselves around, and think, and act, and love differently, we too will perish. Christ makes it clear in his life and teaching, throughout the gospels, that there is no refuge other than in the grace of God, and that grace, that gift, is Christ himself. Christ, the gift of God for us, who gave himself, who we receive as we gather as his faithful people around the Table.  Let me be clear in what this passage is saying to us: Our only refuge is in Christ.

Where is our refuge, this morning? Morality? Good works? Family? We can allow any one of these to become a phoney refuge, like the tower of Siloam that fell on those 18 men. Let me tell you this: In time, all these towers will fall upon us. There is but one rock and one refuge: Christ.
At this point in the Gospel passage, the teaching seems to take a sharp turn. Luke tells us that, here, Jesus moves on from this stark teaching into a parable. The parable of the fruitless fig tree, verse nine. By recording this sudden shift in teaching style, almost like a change of gear whilst driving, Luke allows the reading to take on a different feel.

Looking at the parable itself; Very often in the Bible the people of God are spoken about, prophetically, or in allegory, like a picture as a vine, or a vineyard, or a garden or a fig tree – and likewise here. The fig tree is, in a sense, the people of God. And the fruit that should have grown is living faith. The tree has shown itself to be useless, as with the religion of works and law and bondage, and so the time had come for it to be cut down, thrown away, and replaced. This is not an uncommon image throughout scripture.

Yet, here in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus adds a twist to this story – divine forbearance, God’s patience. Rather than ending with the rightful removal of the fig tree, the parable ends with a plea for more time.

Three years, I am told, is the right time to expect a harvest from a fig tree, if there has been no fruit after this time, perhaps it will never fruit? But God is patient; he holds back his judgement to give as much time as possible.

Likewise with us: We have shown ourselves slow to come to repentance. Even at times it might look like we would never produce spiritual fruit; but God is merciful, and he is waiting. He will not wait forever, but he will give us more time than we need. So we should rejoice in God’s patience, but not be slow to act. 

Time is indeed short, but the vinedresser is working the ground. He is preparing the tree, doing all that he can do – will it grow? Will we grow? Will we produce the fruit of repentance? Will we learn to place our trust in Christ our refuge?

We have four weeks remaining of Lent until Easter. In a sense time is short for us, too. Let me urge you, to join me, as I endeavour to examine my conscience seriously and soberly before God. So that when we gather on Easter morning, to receive him by faith in that sacrament, we can proclaim with our lips and also our repentant lives that Jesus Lives, and he alone is our refuge.

Amen.

Bartimaeus and the Son of David: A Homily

A couple of people asked whether my sermons are recorded, they are not, but I do stick fairly closely to my script, so what appears here is roughly what the congregation heard:

Sitting in poverty, beside that street two thousand years ago, Bartimaeus, though he is blind, sees a great and eternal truth. As word spreads through the town, gossip and speculation, observation and inference, with the arrival of this itinerant preacher and his band of disciples, Bartimaeus comes to realise the hope that he has in his heart. The faith he has that God will not leave him in his misery, the faith that he has that Messiah has come:

Let us Pray: Almighty and ever wise God, who through your son Jesus Christ have vindicated the Israel of God, the Church, open our ears and hearts to hear your words for us today, by the power of your Holy Spirit. Amen

As Jesus approaches where he rests, Bartimaeus makes a bold decision, he cries out in faith. Although it was perhaps opportunistic, or spur of the moment, the phrase that Blind Bartimaeus chooses to address Jesus, Son of David, was far from chance. It was a colloquial, popular expression that indicated that somebody was thought to be the Messiah, the Christ, the Anointed Servant of God. As we know from reading the Gospels each Sunday, year in year out, the Jewish people at the time of Jesus had developed a range of ideas about who they thought this Messiah, this saviour, would be and what he would be like. It is fair to say, however, that many of these ideas stemmed from the Jewish scriptures concerning David, the great king. 

In many respects the historic King David was revered, almost as a sort of mythic ‘once and future king’, held in popular imagination like our own king Arthur. It was from the line, or house, of David that the Messiah was to come. We hear this prophecy throughout the old testament. We find it especially in the books of the history of the kings of Israel and Judah, but also in the books of the Prophetswho so often challenged those Kings on behalf of God. We heard from Jeremiah earlier this morning, elsewhere in his book he says (32:4-5) "the LORD says: 'David will never fail to have a man to sit on the throne of the house of Israel...'". 

Bartimaus must have begun to connect these pieces of the Hebrew Scriptures, our Old Testament to the person of Jesus. From his use of this phrase, Son of David, we can tell that as far as he is concerned Jesus is the Messiah. Jesus has come to save and vindicate Israel - back to our OT Reading for a moment, and Jeremiah who gives us God’s words for Israel: "See, I will bring them back from the land of the North and gather them from the far ends of earth; all of them: the blind and the lame," We can't know for certain that Bartimaeus knew this particular scripture, but he clearly believed that God was in the business of restoring Israel, with perhaps a particular concern for the blind, or otherwise suffering. We are only, at this stage in the story of Jesus, beginning to scratch the surface of what it means for God to restore Israel.

Bartimaeus may well have expected Jesus, as the Messiah, to be a warrior king, who would free the Jewish people from the Roman oppressors, and establish a new Kingdom of Israel. David was such a warrior king; the Old Testament says he united the tribes of Israel, that he defeated their enemies, that he was a great king This is exactly the mould that they expected the messiah to fill, that they expected Jesus to fill. Many believed this about the Messiah, even some within Jesus’ own group of disciples. But even so, it is clear that Bartimaeus had a more nuanced, or more developed idea about the messiah. Not only must the messiah be a great king, he must also be merciful. Bartimaeus hoped that Jesus would be merciful to him. Jesus obliges, giving just a hint of the mercy that will come to represent his Messiah-ship. 

Jesus is so much more than a Warrior king, he achieves so much more than defeating Israel’s earthly enemies, the Romans. Jesus as messiah is to be God’s true king for Israel, and that means restoring, and vindicating. This can only be done by resolving Israel, and the world’s, biggest problem: enmity with God.  We discover in our NT reading discussion of Christ as High Priest, for Israel and indeed all people. This is God's vision for saving Israel, and the letter to the Hebrews continues: 

But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, [he is himself that offering, that sacrifice] he sat down at the right hand of God, waiting from that time until his enemies should be made a footstool for his feet. 

Jesus is to die, offering himself upon the cross for the sins of the world before he sits down in the place of honour at the right hand of God. Jesus does sit, enthroned in heaven as King. He is king. But it is not as King that he achieves the work of saving God’s people – it is by offering himself as a sacrifice for our sins. And so, he truly becomes our messiah, our redeemer-king, when we enter into that salvation. We do not cross the Red Sea to enter into a geographical Israel, we pass through the waters of baptism to join the Israel of God, the Church, which is saved by the Sacrifice of Christ upon the cross, delivering us from sin and death. My plea for you this morning, is that you will draw near to Christ the messiah by faith, and enter into the mystery of his death as we partake of his body and blood crying out “‘Son of David, have pity on me.’

A Sermon For All Saints Sunday - on the occasion of a baptism.

Sermon For All Saints:

                              

Historically, All Saints was a “catch all” provision to ensure that no Heroes of The Faith have been missed, or forgotten in the church calendar. As the church grew, and grew, and grew in the first few hundred years after Christ this became more, and more of an issue, as the year became crowded to over flowing with days for Saints and Martyrs .  Even today, as Christian persecution continues to rage across the world, especially in Iraq and Syria at this time, the number of those deserving of honour, the number of those from whom we have so much to learn, is growing day by day. As we heard from Jesus in this morning’s Gospel reading –

10 “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

11 “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely[b] on my account. 12 Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

About 400 years after Christ, around 1600 years ago, when the calendar was already jam-packed, Pope Gelasius  the 1^st wrote of those “whose names are rightly reverenced among us, but whose actions are known only to God." There are dozens and dozens of Saints who now fit this category. Whose actions, and lives are lost, but whose images adorn our churches, in stained glass, painted relief, and folk tales.  But what about those whose names have been forgotten among us? What about those, who do not have mythic legends, stained glass windows, confraternities, and days in their honour?

Fortunately for us - being a saint is about none of these things.

Sainthood is about sharing in the life and activity of God. You can forget chiseled marble, polished brass, and plaster cast saints. Sainthood is about living in the strength, and power of God.  In the Incarnation, He (God) joined with our human life, so that we might join with his divine life – and that is what it means to be a saint, to participate in the life of God.

Participation in the life of God does not mean that we are expected to be perfect. We are not all expected to fulfill some great self-denying feat, such as those saints of old who took it upon themselves to flee to the wilderness, or those who suffer at the hands of militants in the world today. But we are to have perfection as our aim, our ambition, our end. Because we are animated, and brought to life by God who is perfection, as we seek after him.  The great self-denying feat to which we are called is to take up *our* cross – not St Peter’s, Not St Paul’s, Not St David or St George, St Teresa, or St Catherine – God is calling each one of you to participate in his life, to seek after him, and his kingdom.

Jesus says in verse six of the gospel passage: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” What is righteousness? A good place to start is Right Relationship – firstly with God, and then with our neighbours – so as we seek right relationship with God and Man, God gives to us his righteousness, his spirit, his Life. It is by God’s spirit that we can shine, as lights in t the world – because it is God’s spirit shines through us.

Christ begins to lay out for us what this new life might look like, what “sainthood” might look like, in the Gospel reading we heard today. Jesus gives us a pattern for life that reflects the new life that God has given us.

Blessed are the poor – theirs is the kingdom.

This simple set of verses has transformed the lives of countless millions, throughout the ages. All of whom have been swept up in the redeeming power of God’s action in the world. And it continues to do so now! Reading these verses we encounter, in plain and mundane letters on a commonplace page, the God who calls to us in the spirit, who longs for us to participate in his rebuilding of the cosmos.

Respond, I pray, to the God who came from very high, and lived among us. Not so that we could become famous, or preserved in statue form, or glass windows. But who came to change everything. Follow him, I pray, as he leads us. He will change our lives, as we follow him, through the waters of baptism, through our shared life, as we gather around his table.

Amen

A Sacred Duty (Repost)...

This is a post from the middle of 2011, not long after I was married; it was one of my favourites. Here it is, with amendments, and additions:

There is a role more noble than the Order of the Garter;

More sacred than the Society of the Holy Cross.

More ancient than the Holy Writ of Scripture.

John the Baptist alluded to this rank as 'friend of the groom'.

I speak, of course, of the best man.

Bestmanning.

It is my privilege to preform these duties twice this year (2011); for two very different men, who will have two very different days. As a result of these differences, my role will appear quite different; but, in substance it remains the same.

The best man's job is to ensure the groom comes ready for the wedding: mentally, spiritually, physically.

I remember the night before my wedding, when my best man was on the receiving end of about a hundred texts and tweets, requesting various items, from shoe polish, to cuff-links, to confirmation that he hadn't lost the rings. It wasn't simply that I required these items (I certainly didn't require them at One in the morning); Nor was it simply a matter of needing assurance that they would be remembered; it was, perhaps, most importantly assurance that I would be remembered.

A wedding can be should be a serious thing; it is not so much a matter of Life or Death, but more a matter of Life or Life. Which Life? That's the question. Marriage joins two people as one. Two families as one. Two pasts as one future. But where does that leave the groom?

Swallowed up into a homogeneous mass like Brangelina?

No. Marriage joins two, so that they can be more fully themselves, not so they can be a beige blob of humanity. And this, perhaps, is also the role of the best man; to see that the groom doesn't abandon himself, his loves, his passions, his life. Instead, the best man is prepare the groom for a life where he can be more truly himself.

The role of best man is the role of priest.

To take you to the altar, and to pass you the emblems of your promise

It is not the role of a priest to live an experience for you; it is his job to ensure that you come, ready and prepared.

The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice. Therefore this joy of mine is now complete.

My prayer is that I don't balls it all up too badly.

Words.

The picture (below) has been doing the rounds on Facebook; it has inspired me to re-post (with edits):

Words have no intrinsic value. 

The arbitrary arrangement of letters and phonics, though steeped in rich etymological history, in the end mean nothing. Language exists not in the writing down, but rather, in the taking up.

When we write, and we do so often write, we veil our thoughts in heavy cloth. Some folk may, through eloquence or loquacity, craft more delicate silk to hold their ideas, but nonetheless, we can never truly know their intentions, their ideas, their mind. We can only know the outline of their thoughts. The shape underneath the drape of language remains to us merely a shape, we cannot know what lies beneath.

This is a problem, for People of The Book.

Yet, despite our ignorance, and despite our lack of seeing - we can expand our understanding.

We can, become acquainted with the author. We can grow to understand them, their motivation, desires, and passions; which can give us greater insight into what lies beneath the veil of words. Yet, our understanding of the author may be tainted, by our own prejudices, and expectations.

We must be humble, and subject ourselves to those who have known him longer. Not in hierarchy, but in love, earnestly seeking to understand those who understand. Those who understand must likewise seek those who understand more fully, and also those with fresh eyes. Together we can pool our senses, our thoughts, and our experience.

Scripture is therefore a community project.

(Best undertaken around a barbecue.)

Priestly Robes:

Given that I have now been selected to study for the priesthood, I thought we could revisit this post, from 2011, where I explored what it means to be a priest in the evangelical tradition. I had almost forgotten how much of an evo I am!

I often find organised religion slightly ridiculous.

Not quite so ridiculous as other strands of religion mind you, but my point still stands.

Christianity walks a perilous path between the two. Organised chaos is our aim. And that's what happens when you have a Priesthood of all believers, yet still have an ordained order of priests.
Much of the theological ink spilled over this matter was wasted on misunderstandings of some simple Bible stuff. A good friend of mine once taught me 'understand the bible by reading the bible:

In the New Testament we have two Greek words, which have both come to be translated  'Priest', in my beloved, but often misleading English.

ἱερεύς - hiereus meaning "sacred one". These are the Old-testament-sacrifice-offering-blood-and-guts-and-gore guys. They were a select few, as with most religions, held to be in some way especially sacred. They were almost a race within the Jewish race. All being patrilinial descendants of Moses' mate Aaron.

πρεσβύτερος - presbyteros meaning "one with elderhood". Here is where we get our word priest from, and it has nothing to do with sacrifices.

#facepalm

It's a pastoral role, about replicating the Apostles' love for the brethren, and their flair for administration... maybe.

The confusion has crept in with the doctrine that at Communion the priest offers it as a sacrifice. This is a doctrine I am uncomfortable with, but mostly because it re-restricts the use of hiereus. The bible, IMHO, calls us all to live a life of sacrifice. Christianity, for me, turned the old religious system upside-down; ushering us all into the the life of the sacred ones. Christ in us makes us all sacred. In that sense, in the sense that we offer a sacrifice, pleasing and acceptable to God - we are all priests, through Christ.

Though we don't get to kill animals.

Unless you're my dad, but that's an entirely different story.

We are not however all priests, in the presbyteros sense of the word; that is, in the actual sense of the word. Our ordained priesthood has a very specific role, and it involves being sacred ones every day - even when they don't feel like it. Even when they demonstrably haven't acted like it. And raising as many people as they meet into a position where they too can become sacred ones.Don't get me wrong though. Although, I don't think Communion should be confused or conflated with Christ's actual, historical sacrifice - I am by no means a full blown protestant.

Our priesthood is about raising people to meet Jesus. And how do they [priests] do that?

Primarily, it's about making God real to people, and this is done through:

Communion.
Baptism.

but also through confirmation, holy orders, marriage, reconciliation, extreme unction... and actually any number of ways that God's grace is conveyed into people's lives through ordinary and physical means.

How  I long to join them.

NB - This post must send a Hat Tip over to http://www.liturgy.co.nz/blog/priest-altar/1950