From Jerusalem to Leverstock Green

We spent Friday undertaking an unenviable task - sorting the loft. it is an unenviable task because when we arrived here we were 2 and a bit, and now we are 5 (6 if you count the dog!) and with a boarded loft this end and no boarded loft at the other, we needed to sort with a motto - if in doubt throw it out.

Sorting stuff was was a bittersweet experience - there were records, books, photos, keepsakes, mementos - there were things that brought back good memories, there were things that reminded me of people no longer with us, there were things that reminded me of how far I have journeyed on life since. The sorting made me look back and caused a number of different emotions to surface.

Then yesterday morning I was at Leverstock Green School celebrating the history of the life of the school in this community as part of the 200th anniversary celebrations of the National Society which was set up to promote religious education in this country. It was wonderful to go and see photos and records and stories of the school over different eras of it’s past and to celebrate the journey the school has been on over the years and the impact that the it has made on thousands of lives in this community.

In this morning’s Gospel reading we encounter two people, full of memories about the past, overflowing with emotion, contemplating the journey their lives had taken them on as they travel from Jerusalem to Emmaus.

This story deals in things we know and can grasp and understand - it happens on the way to Emmaus from Jerusalem - roughly equivalent if we were to walk from here to St Albans Abbey, about 6 miles. We are told one of the key players is a man called Cleopas. He’s not one of the 12 disciples, but might have been part of the very earliest of churches. And the other? One of us perhaps?

We know something that they don’t.  As they walk the two travelers are joined by a stranger. THey fail to recognize him as the risen Jesus. Was that because it was so unlikely? So unexpected? Were they so wrapped up in their grief. But would we recognize him? Jesus promises to walk with us, to be with us wherever we go but do we recognize him?

Cleopas and the other disciple are asked by their traveling companion to explain why they are looking sad. Their hope is gone.  So Cleopas explains about the things that had taken place.  ‘We had hoped...’ said Cleopas.  As he retells of Jesus alive, crucified, dead and buried, so they tell of crushed hopes and trodden down dreams with him and for themselves. Gone. But notice, as they unfold the top news story of the day, they describe Jesus as a great prophet, but fail to grasp something crucial - his divinity - He is the Son of God. They had missed something crucial.

By ourselves, through own intelligence, our philosophy, science, our own reasoning we discover much about our lives and the world, but all in all we cannot fully grasp God fully, really truly is using these alone. God is beyond us. We need him to reveal himself to us alongside us.

This weekend we have been celebrating the life of Leverstock Green school in the context of the wider bicentennial celebrations for the National Society. We have been celebrating and giving thanks for the life of a school that has walked alongside this community for over 160 years through tragedy and joy. What we celebrate this weekend is not the buildings, but the people who have walked alongside sometimes unseen, as fellow pupils of the school as well as staff and support staff. It is their presence, commitment and care that is remembered long after the buildings are forgotten because it is that which shapes us as people and has transformed our future.

The stranger walks alongside Cleopas an the other disciple and us and opens the scriptures to them. He reveals the big story of God’s love for creation contained in them, and reaching it’s fulfillment in and through his messiah, his chosen one. Even then they did not fully grasp why this was the most important walk of their lives.

Later, as they share a meal at which the stranger takes bread, gives thanks for it and blesses, breaks and shares it. Suddenly it dawned on them who the stranger is. It is their Master raised from the dead. Jesus himself had had walked alongside them and had revealed God’s promise of new hope and resurrection life to them, but not in the Temple, not in church, but in the ordinary things of life - a walk, a meal, a chat, a growing friendship...

This is such a contemporary story. We make our way through life accompanied by all sorts of people - family, friends, teachers, strangers. Some of the journeys are joyful some are tragic. Jesus comes alongside each of us on life’s journey. He doesn’t force his way into the conversations, but listens attentively to our stories and then asks us what we are saying and where we are going. Some of these journeys will encourage us to ask big questions about life and faith.

Jesus meets us this morning wherever we are on our journey. As we read the Bible he helps us understand the extent of God’s love for us as all. As we break bread and share wine Jesus transforms our hurts to hopes, our sorrow to joy, our death to his risen life. As we leave here he meets us again in the ordinary things in life - a walk, a chat, a meal a growing friendship. In all these Cleopas and the other disciple found themselves filled with faith. As we journey from school to college, to work, to family, to friends in all the ordinary things of life, walk alongside us O unexpected Jesus and share with us the things of God and fill us with faith and hope. Amen

What Are You Passionate About - A Sermon for Passion Sunday and Vicar's report for the APCM

On this Passion Sunday, I wonder - what are you passionate about? What is your vision? I have spent the last 6 months or so asking the clergy of Hemel this question as part of some work I am doing for Churches Together. The responses have been varied and inspiring and including: mission & evangelism, the transforming power of the Gospel & building community in various forms. I also asked the ministers to answer the same question as if their church members were answering. Again the answers have been interesting & not necessarily the same as the respective minister! They include: the quality of our worship and being community of disciples open to God.

This work has made me reflect though on how I might answer the question? I would answer in part with a quote - a blind person once asked St. Anthony: "Can there be anything worse than losing your eyesight?" He replied: "Yes, losing your vision."

The this year has been marked with me/us regaining our vision. I was privileged and thankful that the diocese & you gave me the opportunity to take Sabbatical leave the this year. During my time off, I spent time with churches that gather around the Eucharist that are growing - seeing what God is doing with them, & seeing if there are any common themes. I also read much about church growth and strategic planning under God. The time was a gift & I thank you for it. I returned with some renewed priorities and fresh vision. Since my return we have begun work on a big piece of work - our Mission Action Plan which is a direct outcome of my time away. My time off also helped think much about the importance of helping all of us grow in Christian faith and have seen some great opportunities for us each to do that & to that end I am delighted that we have now run an Alpha course. The feedback we have had from those who have been on the course is that it has developed new friends & deepened faith in God. This personal re-visioning for me personally has continued as I have attended some very worthwhile training events including a 3 day workshop on change management with 20 colleagues from the Eastern region’s dioceses, an Old Testament study day, & I am 1 of 30 30 clergy from the diocese selected to attend The Weddings project training.

The other big new responsibility that I have undertaken this year, is that I have become Vice Chair of Churches Together in Hemel Hempstead. I am committed to working with other Christians to see God’s Kingdom revealed. The fruit of that work has been a better working relationship with of churches, and a mutual support in ministry - several local churches helped with our Alpha course for example.

Much of this year’s work has been consolidating & building on God’s work in & for our growing church, much of it unseen by the church per se, but all of it enriching and revealing something of the love of God including supporting the key groups and their leaders with a quarterly round of house communions with each group for support and prayer in the context of worship, an increased level of personal pastoral work with a number of individuals in the community, a significant increase in ministry to the dying - I have prayed the Last Rites in the last 6 months more that I have in 11 years of ordained ministry. We have also seen the start a new group for men in the church which has been well supported.

In the last 12 months or so, I have become a member of our Diocesan synod and have and have continued my involvement with the Diocesan Board of Education, focussing on how we support our church schools best and most effectively.

Speaking of education, we have continued to strengthen our links with Leverstock Green school - I am leading worship there once a week and conducting 4 services in church for the school. As Chair of Governors I have a particular responsibility to ensure the school moves from strength to strength and to ensure that the Christian faith is experienced implicitly and explicitly in the life of the school. We are an Outstanding church school and are a leader in the Diocese in terms aspects of our life such as discerning the Christians values that underlie every aspect of the school (love, forgiveness and respect) & working to introduce a quiet space in each classroom for prayer and reflection. It has been particularly challenging year and the Head has required some particular support which it has been a privilege to offer & to give. Involvement with the school has provided the opportunity to walk alongside people in other ways through funerals and baptisms especially.

Talking of baptisms and so on, the number of occasional offices that I have officiated at this year has gone down - there were only 6 church weddings this least year for example and a similar number of funerals in church or the crematorium and baptisms. There are always peaks and troughs in these things. Things are already looking up on that front though with 13 booked for 2011 with a good number for 2012 already. We have also seen the sad deaths of some long standing church members in Sandy Walker, FLora Parr and Sara May. It has been a privilege to know and be known by them & together with them, to know the love of God.

Looking ahead over the next 12 months and beyond must be about, to borrow the living God’s Love headings, going deeper into God - there will be many opportunities for us to do this through bible study groups, our planned quiet day, and a planned Walk through the Bible event; making new disciples - we have a good number of adults expressing interest in being Confirmed in November this year and plans will be laid for another Alpha; and asking God to enable us to transform our communities - I hope for a full and imaginitive review of our childrenswork and plans being laid to provide for the needs of our growing church including the launching of a new service plus continuing to work in partnership with people as diverse as Leverstock Green school and the Leather Bottle pub. Another high will be the completing & acting on the God-given priorities identified in our Mission Action Plan. An exciting year indeed!

We heard in our readings today of a God who offer of new life in the face of death. This hope, says Jesus to Martha on their way to Lazasus’ tomb and to us, is not set at some fixed point in the future at the end of our lives, but the power of God breaks through in the now, subverting our expectations and surprising us with joy. The heart of this morning’s Gospel is not as such the raising of Lazarus but the intersection of three lives with that God in Jesus - and God’s power at work amongst them. At work amongst us today.

Jesus, on this Passion Sunday as we turn our faces with towards the cross, what are you passionate about? What is your vision? No mention of mission and evangelism or the transforming power of the Gospel or beautiful worship. His answer is revealed in the tears he cries at the starkness of the death of his friend Lazarus prefiguring his own death and ours; and in the vision of God to Eziekiel of the long dead warriors of Israel - that the hope, the love, the life of God is at work amongst ordinary people and for ordinary people like us, in tragedy and joy, and in both and in the intersection of our lives with Him, He offers both the power of God in resurrection and life in all it’s fullness. Amen.

if it was my funeral...

Here goes, it is time to get morbid.

There have been a few funerals around my world recently. I won't mention whose, as anyone reading this can probably guess if they know me. At these funerals, there are some peculiar practices that -if it where mine- I would probably not like. No, I think of something else entirely.

Sometimes, there is a bit sermonizing at funerals. It is usually about the need to accept Jesus so you can get into heaven when you die. Apparently, this is sometimes accompanied by a full on altar call. So after everyone remembers the deceased, there is a need for the minister to make sure everyone is going to get to heaven too. It seems to make sense. If the Gospel is about going to heaven when you die, then what better time than a funeral to make sure everyone gets to heaven when you do?

Now, don't think that this practice is wrong. Yet, if it were my funeral, I think I would resurrect from the dead right then and give the minister an earful. I am not a fan of altar calls in general. Now altar calls at a funeral seem just plain thoughtless. It is as if evangelical ministers do not know how to do much except evangelize, and they only way they know how is via altar calls. It seems a tacky -and perhaps even manipulative- practice.

Christians believe in things other than making everyone Christian, right? We believe things beyond "go and preach the Gospel", right? We have entire traditions of devotions, practices, and above all hope, yes? Wouldn't some of those be more appropriate for a funeral? This leads me to my next thought...

At many funerals there is a lot of talk about heaven. The soul of the deceased is in eternity with God. The deceased may even still be with us in spirit and watching down. I am reminded of the old Family Circus cartoons in which a ghostly apparition of the deceased grandfather happily watches his grand children from the clouds. This hallmark image of heaven is what is so often invoked at a Christian funeral.

In contrast to altar calls, please do think that this is wrong. This is not what the Bible teaches. It is not what Christian hope is. This is not what Christians are supposed to believe about life-after-death. As one blogger put it, this belief is a second rate consolation prize compared to what God really has for us.

Paul speaks of the redemption of the the body (Romans 8:23) and elsewhere he talks of the raising for the dead (1 Corinthians 15). This is not some metaphor for salvation. This means that our bodies, which are now cursed by sin and will die, will be physically raised up and returned to perfection with the rest of God's good creation some day. It is for this reason that early Christians dug catacombs for their dead, rather than burning them. Their bodies were simply to sacred to be burnt on a Roman funeral pyre.

I think of it this way: my last earthly memories of my late grandfather were when he was tired, sick, old and unable to remember our names. He was so weak that he could not swallow applesauce. But when the dead are raised, his body will not suffer anymore and stroke that so damaged his mind will be of no consequence. I do not think of my grandfather as floating on the clouds watching my life right now, but I look forward to telling him all about it when the dead are raised on the last day.

At my funeral, this is what I want people to talk about it. We can forget about an altar call. We can forget about souls floating to heaven. Whenever I die, and am buried in the dirt, I want whoever speaks to emphasize the future bodily resurrection. That is what I look forward to with the entire Christian world.

I guess that wasn't so morbid after all, huh?

Responses to readers, flamers, facebookers and others.

Several people have asked me questions about stuff posted in my blog. It makes me happy to know that people are reading this little project of mine. Here they are, in no particular order.

Jonathan Says says concerning my Open Theism Blog

Thanks for sharing your thoughts, J. One question. Could you explain this, a little further?
1. I sin
2. God foreknows
3. Therefore, God foreknows my sin
4. Therefore, we do not regret

Could you help me follow from 3 to 4?

I am really glad you asked, because I don’t think I was clear on this point. My point is this: Under Arminianism, God knows exactly what each of my free actions will be, including sins. If God knows exactly what they will be, they are no longer contingent (could have been some other way) because God can’t be wrong or surprised. If my actions are not contingent, it is difficult to have any real regret about them. The sinner can use God’s foreknowledge to cover up the negative feeling of regret. It makes an apology very strange.

Pete Garcia says, concerning my position on Prop 8.:

I don't think Christ would care that much about this law, personally I think He would have been upset with it being passed as even a law... but I think he would vote yes, because if not passed, what could be tolerated and excepted is the bigger concern. Our job is to hold up a standard for others to see, popular or not popular it is to be set apart, "salt" we preserve, i am not trying to preach but Joel are you being salt?

In a specific way, I feel that I am being “salt” in this case. It is like this: when Jesus came on the scene there were several different types of Jewish religious/political groups all struggling for popular support and their own goals. The Pharisees said that everyone should keep their head down when it came to Rome. The Zealots thought that open war with Rome was God’s will. Many other Jews thought their God went over to the Romans. Finally, there was Rome itself.
When Jesus came on the scene, he did not side with anybody. He was non-political in this sense. He said “no” to all parties, including time-honored religious establishment (i.e. the religious right in our country; the many Jewish communities back then). As he, and the early Christians, saw it everyone was wrong.

Because of this, I feel perfectly justified in thinking there might be some times when the best way to be “salt” is to not vote at all. I think “the secular left” has it wrong and I think “the religious right” has it wrong. I protested against both of them, and I stand by religious conscience in doing so.

Heidi asked, concerning this blog about death

I really like that last line from the Nicene Creed. I'm curious though if you believe we should be buried, and not cremated...

I can’t speak for all Christians, but I for sure want to be buried, not burned. All of our rituals communicate things about what we believe without using words. If a body is carefully preserved and placed in the ground, it sends a message that there is something still important about this body. If it’s burned, it seems hard to say “I believe in the Resurrection of the body” because we destroy it intentionally. This is not to say that God can’t raise ashes, but I still think it sends a wrong message about bodies.

Thanks to all of you for reading!

When Grandfather's Pass On

A close friend recently lost her grandfather. The grief I felt for her and her family made me think back to when my grandfather passed on several years ago. The process I went through taught me a few things that I am sure all Christians share.
My Grandfather died in May of 2004 after several years of mental and physical deterioration. He was well into his 80s and had never really recovered from a stroke. As he began to forget things (like our names), he never became angry or irritable as some of the elderly do. He still remembered that we were his family and that he loved us. He was still thrilled when he saw small children come into his room. He even saw his first two great-grandchildren scant months before he passed on.

His funeral came at a strange time in my life. I had just decided that I was going to pursue education further than most. I learned I loved learning, thinking, and the honor that comes with it. This wasn’t simply me growing into arrogance, it was in fact what had kept my faith afloat at the time. Besides, many people saw my intellectual tendencies long before I did.

The sum of my grandfather’s life was so different than my goals of honorific academia. Due to circumstances outside of his control, he never made it past an eighth grade education. He made his living from a humble plumbing business. He never read anything deeper than Billy Graham. Yet, throughout the funeral, I realized that my Grandfather was exceptional in life. His faithfulness to his spouse, his kindness towards strangers, the honesty of his business, his devotion to Christ among other things made him a paragon. It made me re-evaluate myself then and still does now.

But that is not even the end of it. During the funeral –somewhere in between the rifle salute and the old hymn – the closing line of the Nicene Creed came into my mind:

We look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come. Amen.

I cannot remember a time when I did know the Nicene Creed. I recited Sunday after Sunday as a child. Furthermore, in my time of crisis, I had spent some time reading on the historicity of Christ’s resurrection.

The Creed and historical Jesus are of great importance, but at that funeral was the first time I ever really took emotional ownership of this last line and the idea of Christ coming before his disciples after dying. Because of Christ’s resurrection, we can look foreward to a world not full of angelic ghosts playing harps, but glorified and repaired resurrected bodies that are immune to decay and corruption of this world.

For this reason, the early Christians buried –not cremated –their dead. As Christians today, when we bury our dead, we remember that we don’t have to think of them in their last moments here. Instead, we look forward to what they will be, when God raises all from the dead and frees us from corruption and death.