Easter 5. 7.5.23  St Clement’s, Hastings  Anointing

In yesterday’s Coronation service the pivotal moment was the anointing.  From that all the other symbols flow including the crowning.  The anointing of a king in the Old Testament dates back at least to the choice of David by the prophet Samuel and the anointing of Solomon by Zadok the priest.   The anthem ‘Zadok the priest’, sung yesterday during the anointing, has been sung at every coronation since that of George II.

‘Zadok the priest took the horn of oil from the Tent of the Lord and anointed Solomon; they sounded the trumpet and all the peole shouted, “Long live King Solomon.” ‘  (I Kings 1.39)

‘Anointed one’ is the title we give to Jesus almost without thinking.   Messiah from the Hebrew and Christ from the Greek.

And who does the anointing?  The Holy Spirit, not God’s priest or archbishop.   So at yesterday’s Coronation before the anointing they sang the ancient hymn ‘Come holy Ghost our souls inspire’.  So it was at Jesus’s Baptism.   ‘Jesus…came and was baptised in the Jordan by John.   As he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens break open and the Spirit descend on him like a dove.’  (Mark. 1.10)  

St Luke records at the beginning of his public ministry, Jesus returns to Nazareth and on the Sabbath reads from the prophet Isaiah the very passage read at the Coronation yesterday for the Gospel:  ‘The spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me.’   (Luke 4.16-19)

Initially Jesus as God’s Messiah and servant saw his mission as recalling the Jewish people to their vocation.  The Israelites were called out of Egypt and chosen to be an example to all the other nations.  God gave them the Ten Commandments and made a covenant with them  They were to show how, by living according to God’s law, peace and harmony could prevail in society and so throughout the world.    Jesus will say: ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the children of Israel.   It is not right to throw the children’s bread to the dogs.”  But the Gentile woman replies, ‘Even the dogs can eat the scraps that fall from their masters’ table.’  (Matthew 15. 24-27)  Jesus sees that his message is wider.  His mission is as Simeon had prophesied when Mary and Joseph brought in the baby to the temple:  ‘the light that will bring revelation to the Gentile nations’ as well as ‘glory to your people Israel.’   (Luke 2.32)

So at the Last Supper Jesus creates the Church, the new Israel, open to Jew and Gentile alike.  St Peter in our Second Reading gives the people to whom he is writing all the titles attributed to Israel in the Old Testament.   You are a ‘chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people.’ – and Israel’s calling: ‘to proclaim God’s mighty acts who called you out of darkness into his marvellous light.’  (I Peter 2.9)

As members of the Church at our Baptism and Confirmation we have been anointed with the Holy Spirit.   At the Reformation the symbolic anointing with oil disappeared from the rites of Baptism, Confirmation and Ordination but remained in the Coronation rite and has been restored in the modern services of Baptism, Confirmation and Ordination.  We have been ‘christened’, anointed, each of us special with her or his own gifts to bring to the community.   We are told in the Acts of the Apostles that very soon we were known as ‘Christians’, anointed ones.

There was a lot in the Coronation service about being called to serve not to be served after the example of Our Lord.  And of course each Church and each Christian works out what that means for them.   But you notice in the Coronation service that before the King and Queen went out to continue their work of service of the nation, they first received Holy Communion.

That’s our duty too and our joy now.

Bishop Peter

Lent 5   XX 26.3.23  St Clement’s, Hastings

Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who was to come into the world. (John 11.27)

The cycle of readings on these Sundays in Lent is chosen to teach candidates for Baptism and Confirmation. What is the main lesson – for them and for us?   I suggest – very simply – the Christian life is a journey.  We gradually gain insight.

Two weeks ago we had the story of the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4).   She gradually comes to understand who Jesus is.   ‘Are you greater than our father Jacob?’ and what Jesus is saying to her about ‘living water’. (‘Sir, you have no bucket.’   ‘The water I give is like a spring inside welling up to eternal life.’)  The Gospel for the 4^th Sunday in Lent (John 9) is about how a man who was blind was brought to see the light, not just physically but spiritually.  The man’s understanding of Jesus grows until he cries ‘I believe’ and worships him, that is, accepts that the divine glory shines in him.  Today’s Gospel is about how full-hearted belief in Jesus, Messiah and Son of God, leads to life, real life.  

The raising of Lazarus is what St John calls a sign. The first of the signs is the miracle of water into wine at Cana in Galilee.  St John concludes his Gospel, ‘There were indeed many other signs that Jesus performed…Those written here have been recorded in order that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that through this faith you may have life by his name.’   The theme of belief runs through today’s Gospel.   ‘Jesus told them plainly: Lazarus is dead.  I am glad for your sake that I was not there; for it will lead you to believe.’   Jesus says to Martha, ‘Do you believe?’  ‘Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who was to come into the world.’   Our Gospel today concludes, ‘Many of the Jews who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him.’ If we read a lttle further, we have a meeting of the Sanhedrin.   ‘If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him and then the Romans will come and sweep away our temple and our nation.’  (a nuanced view of why some not only thought Jesus a false prophet whom the Law condemns but also the consequences of not opposing him). 

Belief and trust are at the heart of Jesus’s teaching.   If your trust were the size of a mustard seed, you could move mountains.  In the face of suffering, it is very difficult to go on trusting in God.   That is part of what Jesus teaches in his Passion – how he goes on trusting and how we may trust God in adversity.

At the Last Supper Jesus founds the Church, the community of those who believe in him.  Believing in Jesus is trusting in him; it is an acceptance of who and what he claims to be ‘the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who was to come into the world’ and a dedication of one’s life to following him.

How the world needs his teaching – about peace when we consider Ukraine and Russia, about compassion when we consider climate change and communities facing disaster, and about justice closer to home when we consider the shocking rise of poverty in one of the world’s richest societies. 

As we journey through life we gain greater insight into Our Lord and his teaching.   At each stage we echo with Martha, ‘Lord, I believe you are the Christ, the Son of God, the one who was to come into the world’.   And strengthened by his body and blood at the eucharist we rededicate ourselves to follow him in our daily life.  

Introduction

‘If Christ is in you, then the Spirit is your life.’   ‘Life’ in St John and St Paul means worthwhile life, real living, life that endures beyond death – not living superficially avoiding difficult questions or difficult people.  

SERMON for MOTHERING SUNDAY on 19^TH March 2023
Lord, may the words of my mouth, and the meditations of our hearts, be pleasing to you, our strength and our redeemer. Amen

MOTHERING: It’s an interesting word that we hardly ever use, except on Mothering Sunday. It comes of course from the verb “to mother”.  In England in the 16^th century it was an explicitly religious event, with no connection to mothers at all. The word “mothering” referred to the “Mother Church” which is to say the main church, the local parish church, or nearest cathedral which was the mother church of all the parish churches in a diocese. It became a tradition that on the 4^th Sunday of Lent, people would return to their Mother church, or to where they had been baptised for a special service and this pilgrimage was known as “going a-mothering”, a term recorded by 1644 – domestic servants in the big manor houses, and apprentices, were given the day off to visit and go to church with their families at their mother church. In those days it was quite common for boys and girls to leave home for work once they were 10 years old. On this day they would walk home along country lanes collecting wild flowers to either decorate the church or to give a posy to their mothers.

It was known as Laetare Sunday meaning a joy of anticipation felt within the solemn season of Lent, also known as Refreshment Sunday as the strict laws of fasting in Lent were relaxed for this day in mid-Lent to allow a day of rejoicing in families. 

These days many people celebrate Mothering Sunday in their own way – often with children preparing Mum a breakfast-in-bed. I recall one such Sunday;  Ken and our 2 young sons were in the kitchen preparing breakfast whilst I sat on the verandah enjoying the African sunshine, and watching the Vervet monkeys bounding through the garden. All of a sudden I heard a loud wail as Justin admonished his Dad saying “No, Daddy, you can’t have the broken egg, Mummy always has the broken egg”.   Nothing had ever been said about it, but Justin had seen it happen sometimes when one of the eggs had been broken during cooking, so I always served myself the egg I thought no-one else would want.

But the festivities of today can be a very emotional and hard time for many people for many reasons, especially where their experiences remind them of different hurts – loss of a child, loss of their mother – the anniversary of my own mother’s death was yesterday and I think of all the things I wish I had said to her, but didn’t.  For some, sad memories come to the fore at this time, maybe not able to have children, maybe did not want children and suffered other people’s hurtful comments, perhaps broken relationships with their children, maybe hurting for another reason on this day, perhaps they themselves suffered neglect or abuse – we have a friend who was a foundling, found on a doorstep, and the day of his actual birth was not known; but authorities decided that January 4^th would be his birthday so we always made special efforts on that day to celebrate his birthday with him.  He was adopted by a childless old couple and now in his 80s, even with the advancement of DNA, he still does not want to try and find out about his birth mother or family members he might have.

Of course, many fathers have played a dual role and also been like the mother in the family. There are people who are like a mother to us – maybe an aunt, a family friend, an older sister, a stepmother – there for us with enveloping arms, giving maternal care. Over time, family dynamics have changed and the words ‘maternal love’ have become more enhanced in our society. God brings the right person for the right circumstances, to take on caring tasks. We have wonderful people who care by fostering, or adoption, or just giving support by helping where they can, carers who come into the home, or who work in nursing or residential homes, people who are warm and loving, godparents, grandparents, close family, Church family and leaders, or maybe good friends. You don’t have to be a mother to take on a nurturing role.

Don’t forget we all belong to the family of God, families are precious gifts from God, Church families, extended families, however diverse they may be. If we keep God in the centre, we can begin to experience the spiritual bond that God brings, making us stronger to cope with whatever life throws at us. Let God worry about the wrongs you may have suffered, because he wants us to live renewed in love and joy. What love!

Throughout the Bible, you can find a variety of women who dealt with motherhood’s struggles. Many women and men can relate to them through their own struggles. Eve was the first mother who lost one child at the hands of another.  Rebekah, Isaac’s wife, struggled with favouritism of her son Jacob over Esau. In this morning’s first reading we heard about an unnamed caring mother who had to give up her child when she could no longer keep him hidden.  This came about because Pharoah was afraid the Israelites were becoming so numerous that they would threaten his kingdom, so he made them slaves to kill their spirit and stop their growth. Slavery was an ancient practice used by almost all nations to “employ” conquered people and other captives. The Egyptians knew how to wear down the Hebrew people by forcing them into slavery and mistreating them. Instead, the Hebrews multiplied and grew stronger. So Pharoah commanded midwives to kill any baby boy as he was born, but girls could live. However, Hebrew midwives’ faith in God gave them the courage to disobey the king.  Moses’ mother could not change the new law, her only alternative was to hide her baby son. Her name is not given in the passage we heard from Exodus (2.1-10) but we learn 4 chapters later on, only in genealogical listings in Exodus 6 (20) and Numbers (26:59), that her name was Jochebed).   What heart-ache she must have gone through, a caring mother who, for his wellbeing, had to give up her 3 month old baby son she called Jekuthiel .  It was a temporary separation and she was asked by Pharoah’s daughter who found him amongst bulrushes which could grow to 11 foot and the perfect hiding place, to nurse him and bring him up, but she had to give him up a second time a few years later when he was returned to Pharoah’s daughter as his adoptive mother who named him Moses.  This story of Moses contains themes of oppression, sacrifice, and a mother’s love expressed in letting her child go. That’s the experience of countless families today – so we think of separated families and unaccompanied children sent away for a perceived better life. Moses was raised in an environment of complex relationships, like many children today grow in “blended” environments too.

The other woman we heard about this morning, who suffered tremendous heart-ache, was MARY.  As a very young woman Mary, though overwhelmed, obeyed God’s call and was chosen to bear the Christ child. She carried Christ with her and brought him up. Should we seek to be like Mary, carrying Christ with us?  Do others see us carrying Christ with us, in the way we relate to one another and to God? Do we see Christ in others? Our mission is to carry Christ with us.

Many of us in church may be wondering what a Christian family is and whether or not we have one. How shall we think about family? A family – a Christian family – is defined by one thing alone – it is defined by the love of God.  God’s love establishes a Christian family and God’s love maintains the Christian family, and as long as we love – as long as we try to care for others as Christ cares for us – we are doing all that God asks of us, all that God wants of us, and this whether or not we may be married or divorced, single or widowed, young or old, have or don’t have children, and whether or not we make mistakes.

We are together the family that God has made and when we love others and in that love nurture others and forgive others, when we respect and honour others and help them with their burdens, when we walk humbly with others and worship with others as Christ did all these things, we have everything that a person can have. A family can be big or as small as two. And even those on their own here are part of our Church family. We are all here to care for one another.

In our reading this morning from St John’s Gospel, we heard how Jesus created a new family, what could be called the first Christian community at the foot of the cross. Mary is facing the worst moment that a mother could ever imagine. She is watching her son die and there is nothing she can do to help him. She is about to be left with her pain and sorrow. Death is not what any mother imagines in their dreams for their children   and Jesus, from the cross, knows that she will need support as she struggles through her heartbreak. So Jesus reaches out and creates a new community for his mother. He connects Mary to his most loved disciple and from that moment, they join together to become a new family to give each other strength and support.  Strength and support – so very necessary in everything. Think about Lego bricks, a well-loved toy for all ages. They’ve been designed to fit together so that you can build whatever structure is needed by your imagination. They come in all sort of colours and shapes and there really is no limit to their potential – as long as they are used together. A single brick on its own really has very little hope achieving anything.  Lego bricks need each other to give a structure strength and each one helps to support the other to build a strong shape. A single brick cannot make a strong shape. But putting other bricks alongside it creates strong unity. Just as Jesus created a community around his grieving mother, we, as a church, have the chance to continue to give strength and support to a struggling person on his or her own, or to a single parent or to struggling parents.

Love can be shown in many different ways. It’s not difficult to love our family and friends but outside of that we often face challenges, don’t we? We are called to love our neighbour, yes, even those we wouldn’t normally choose to be with. Our love can show itself in not being judgmental about other people, to give the right hand of fellowship, being grateful and thoughtful of others, concerned about how other people live in our society. Sometimes being beside someone and just listening helps a person. Live by example. Mary, of course, loved her son no matter what people said about him. Can you even start to imagine the agony she must have gone through witnessing her son’s trial and crucifixion? Did she start to recall scriptures which had prophesised it? Did she remember the words of the wise old man, Simeon 30 years ago, who told her a sword would pierce her own soul.   So imagine how she was feeling a piercing pain of seeing her son flogged, rejected by people, treated like a criminal. Imagine the ache in her heart as she stood at the foot of the cross. A mother, seeing her son suffer, and she just couldn’t do anything to alleviate what her son was going through. Most of his disciples had fled, scared to be associated with him, followers were in hiding.   We have here a dying son, a bewildered disciple and friend, and a mother whose heart is broken. Jesus is on the cross – he’s being crucified. He must have been in so much pain, enduring so much suffering. Yet his concern isn’t for himself – it’s for his mother Mary and for John, the disciple whom he loved. So much compassion and caring.

 And remember the love that Jesus showed amidst all the pain he was going through, even while dying on the cross, having such difficulty breathing because that’s what crucifixion does – he was concerned about the welfare of his mother and instructed his close friend and disciple John to take care of her, as his mother. And told Mary that John was now her son.  Jesus created a new family, the first Christian community, even while he was dying on the cross.
As human beings we are made for relationships. When we feel lonely or hurt we can find comfort in community. Can we imagine with Jesus a wider concept of family,that has a place for all. And we are recognised in this family not by birth but by baptism. 

Your experiences of family can be different to someone else’s. There are of course sad instances of families or broken families or never-formed families where, for a whole variety of reasons, there is no love. Let that not be our church family. Big families, small families of a single parent with children, different experiences. As every parent knows sometimes love has to be stern; giving in to every selfish demand of children would in the long term be very damaging for them. No. Love and caring is practical, it is what makes things work best, but it’s often difficult to apply and it’s demanding.

Parents can be infuriating, and children can be maddening.  Nothing new there.  Acceptance and forgiveness can stretch love to its utmost limit. We all have or had expectations of what a mother should be, or the person who was like a mother to us. Mother is expected to be there when we most need her. We expect her NOT to be there when we don’t want her around. Mother is the person who knows everything. And if she doesn’t – and you think you are getting away with something – you can be sure sooner or later she’s going to find out.

I remember travelling in the car over the River Umkomaas in kwaZulu Natal in South Africa, a long bridge over a very wide river, with our two little boys in the backseat both fiddling with the back of my head. To start with I just loved what felt like a gentle massage of my scalp as they moved my hair around. Then one son said to the other, very quietly “No, I can’t find them. You try.”  After a bit, I asked what they were looking for.  “The eyes in the back of your head, Mummy.”  Yes, Mums are always going to find out.    

I love the story about the family that had their fourth child, all under the age of 7. Some friends sent over a playpen to the family and some days later they got a thank you note from the mother of the four children. It read “Just what we needed. . . .  I sit in it every afternoon with a book and read, and the children can’t even get near me!”

We know how our church family here rescued us – we’d been away in Africa for 47 years and returned as Ken’s parents needed us here in the last months of their lives in their 90s. We did not have other family close by, we did not have any friends here, we were fully aware that people of our age in their 70s already had their comfortable lives, their families, their day to day life, and perhaps no room for any new strangers.

But thank you, church family, for enveloping us into your lives.
You are a wonderful caring church family.

We are all called to care.  Amen

Sandra Bentall
Authorised Lay Minister for this Parish by the Diocese of Chichester.

5.3.23 S Clement’s

When preparing a sermon I look at the readings to see if they say anything to me. Last time I came to you they said absolutely nothing which is why you had a sermon about the blessed Betty. Today they all fit together and suggest a number of connected themes. It shouldn’t take longer than a couple of hours! Just consider the Old Testament reading which is all about Abraham, then known as Abram. There he was, sitting in his tent, doing nothing in particular when he got a message from God,

“Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you and I will make of you a great nation…so Abram went…Abram was 75 years old.”

What faith! Abram was part of a group of nomadic people wandering from place to place, probably with animals and eking out a living as part of a tribe and he was old. He had the faith to believe that God was calling him to something very different and that is scary. I know. I’ve been there and done that and wear the equivalent of a T shirt. We see further references to Abraham, the name change showing Abraham’s vocation to found the Jewish nation, in today’s new Testament reading,

“Abraham believed God and it was reckoned to him as righteousness” and again “it depends on faith…who gives life to the dead.”

Faith is a gift from God for which we should always be grateful. I notice this particularly when taking funerals and some of the bereaved are not believers for to them death is the end, not merely an end, as it is for us. For some people there is a dramatic conversion to faith akin to S Paul on the road to Damascus. For others it is gradual or they are lucky enough to be born into a Christian family and they continue in the faith from cradle to grave, so to speak. Faith is not something you can acquire by effort. Reading the right books can help. Going to church also helps, but that depends on the type of worship offered. A few weeks ago I attended a church where I found the worship cold. The eucharist was conducted eastward facing which I do not like for many reasons which I will not go into here, but just on one point I want the priest to talk to me face to face. The other odd thing was that musical setting was plainsong and more parts of the service were sung than usual.

Plainsong is not easy to sing even if, like me, you can read music. It was not a good experience. Back to the readings. Nicodemus had a different kind of faith. He crops up in today’s gospel, secretly visiting Jesus at night. I think there are a number of secret Christians who are not able to openly express their faith. It was not something you would want to make public in Stalinist Soviet Russia for it could easily end up with your being slightly dead. I find it inspiring that there are estimated to be one million Christians now in Communist China. They probably have to keep quiet about it, like Nicodemus. He did everything secretly. Remember how he came to help Joseph of Arimathea at the time of Jesus’ burial, providing herbs and spices. The time of Jesus’ death was a very dangerous time to declare yourself as one of his followers. After all he had been put to death and if the potential uprising was to be stamped out then the authorities would want to get rid of his followers as well, for they thought they were dealing with an earthly revolution. The conversation that Jesus and Nicodemus had is interesting because Jesus says,

“Unless one is born anew he cannot see the kingdom of God.”

There is a reference to water and the spirit and thus we know that Jesus is talking about baptism. In the early years of the church there was no confirmation; there was only baptism as the first part of initiation completed by the eucharist. As the church grew in the early days of Christianity it was not possible for the bishop to get round to a particular community very often so the priest did the baptism and then the bishop confirmed at a later date. These days we have confirmation which can be a very wonderful occasion. In my last parish our bishop left much to be desired but he always did a marvellous confirmation. I am terribly excited that there are as many as eight people who want to be confirmed from this parish. This shows how the Holy Spirit is moving in this place and it is my prayer that all of those who are confirmed will become life-long Christians living out the Christian life and, hopefully, guiding others to do the same.

The end product of the Christian message is life everlasting with Jesus. We have those wonderful words which he speaks in today’s gospel,

“God so loved the world that he gave his only Son that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life.”

That is the end product, but we always need to keep our feet firmly on the ground, helping those who are less fortunate than ourselves and God always needs us to play our part, not to expect God to do it for us. Let me give you an example of the devout Christian who always relied on God. There was a flood and the man was offered a lift on a lorry to escape the rising waters.

“No thanks. The Lord will look after me.”

Then came a boat which he similarly refused. Eventually a helicopter arrived which he also refused and so he drowned. After his death he spoke to God.

“Where were you when I needed you?”

“I sent a lorry, a boat and a helicopter. What more could I have done?”

As Christians we believe in life after death with God. As we get older we wonder why God is keeping us alive and I have learned that it is so my grandson can play endless games of Star Wars Monopoly with Grandad which he nearly always wins, but I do win at chess, for he is only eight. Seriously though, God will find us a purpose so we can help others and the end product is wonderful. One of the best descriptions of eternal life comes from the last of the Narnia books,”The last battle,” at its end,

“For us this is the end of all the stories, and we can truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”

David Sherwood

Therefore, just as one man’s trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man’s act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all.” (Romans 5.18)

(The First Sunday in Lent, 26^th February 2023, St John’s Pevensey Road at 8 a.m. and St Clement’s at 10 a.m.)

Adam.  Do you know anyone with that name?  You probably do even though the name has rather gone out of fashion.  It just about makes it into the top forty for boys’ first names, having been in the top five in 1910.  In passing, I note that it has done much better than Paul which peaked in the top ten in the 1960s – Paul Anker and Paul Macartney doubtless being more influential than St Paul – and these days the name Paul barely makes it into the top 100.  I regret, most bitterly, that both Adam and St Paul have been beaten by Riley and Jayden.  Not that I am a snob.

Adam is simply the Hebrew word for “Man”, the first human being, formed from the dust of the ground – ‘adamah’ in Hebrew.   In Jewish tradition we are all ‘benei Adam’, the children of Adam.

If your Church memories go back to the days of Charles Richardson as Rector,  you may remember the dead homeless man found in the grounds of All Saints.   No-one could discover his name and so the parish named him Adam.  Adam remains in the parish list for All Souls’ Day and I find that rather moving.

The Biblical Adam represents all of us.  Humanity which once had perfect fellowship with God damaged that relationship through the pride of disobedience, thinking that we know best.  Just look around the world today and consider the role played by pride in so many of its problems.  “Ye shall be as God” were Eve’s tempting words to Adam.

The entire biblical narrative of salvation is about God’s attempt to have that original, perfect fellowship between God and His Creation restored.  And St Paul uses the image of Jesus as the new or second Adam who will put right the sin of the old Adam.  The sin of the first Adam is replaced by the Grace of the Second.  Thus St Paul in I Corinthians 15.22: “For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.”

Or in the poetry of John Henry Newman which we shall sing at the end of our service:

“O loving wisdom of our God!

When all was sin and shame,

A second Adam to the fight

And to our rescue came.”

And so we have the contrast in today’s readings:  The First Adam succumbs to temptation in the Garden of Eden and is banished to a wilderness where he will have to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow.  But the Second Adam in the wilderness resists his temptation with the hope that one day a wilderness can again become a garden.

Now I’m not really one for religious emotion, that’s just me, but I have never forgotten one deeply emotional occasion.  It was in 1996 and I was leading a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.  We had obtained special permission to celebrate the Eucharist in the Greek Orthodox Chapel of Abraham in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem.   The altar in the Chapel is directly above the Calvary Chapel which in turn is above the Chapel of Adam, witness to the belief that Christ’s Cross stood on the same spot where the tree of the knowledge of good and evil had once stood.  The belief is more devotional than historical, of course, although there are very strong and solid archaeological reasons for believing that the Church of the Holy Sepulchre does indeed contain the site of the Crucifixion and the now empty tomb.

It is a devotionally rich and powerful idea which got to work on me as I celebrated the Eucharist from the Alternative Service Book and its words of remembrance that God gave his only Son Jesus Christ “to suffer death upon the cross for our redemption…a full atonement for the sins of the whole world.”  I could feel the tears coming and I struggled to get through the service.  And there were tears from the communicants too.

Do we know anyone named Adam?  We do because that is our name too.  We are the First Adam with his pride and disobedience and that falling away from that perfect fellowship with God.  But we are also baptised into Christ’s death, the death of the New and Second Adam, and look towards the restoration of that perfect fellowship lost in Eden.  The priest and poet John Donne expressed it thus:

“We think that Paradise and Calverie,

  Christ’s cross, and Adam’s tree, stood in one place;

  Looke Lord, and finde both Adams met in me;

   As the first Adam’s sweat surrounds my face,

   May the last Adam’s blood my soul embrace.”

© Paul Hunt 2023

Who are we?              St Clements Church Hastings 12^th Feb 2023

Genesis 1.1-2:3;  Psalm 136;  Romans 8.18-25;  Matthew 6.25-end

Who are we? The question of identity lingers in the air of our culture. We watch it being played out in the reality TV that shows us ordinary people revealing themselves to our attention in order to gain even the briefest moment of celebrity. We are bombarded with glimpses of new identities we might be blessed with if we buy certain products; more success, greater sex appeal, deeper fulfilment; greater comfort; increased security.

Who are we? How much are we shaped and honed by the contexts and cultures, families and friendships into which we are born? How much are we the products of our genes; our futures mapped by DNA’s idiosyncrasies buried deep within every cell?   Who are we?

Our scriptures today speak God’s true word into our questioning and longing. Our texts unfold the stunning reality of who we are, of our truest identity, of the fullness of possibility that each and every human being contains. Today’s texts tell us the truth about ourselves.

Two truths intertwine in today’s texts, woven together, supporting each other. We need to keep these two together.

The first truth is that we are the children of God who are made for communion and community. We are not made for lives of isolated fortresses; we are not designed to set ourselves apart, like living on an island to look out at the world as if we are not a part of it. We are made for sharing, shared living.  are woven together into life on Earth; interdependence is as much our DNA as the uniqueness of our individuality. Of course we all have our own unique mark on life, but we share with one another in life itself.

So it is that the creation story in Genesis unveils the creative work of God; ticking off the mighty acts of star, sun, moon, ocean, mountain and then the teeming mysteries of all life. And it is a picture of a garden that interconnects and has its being by being interdependent. And into this world God brings life; male and female made in the image of God to be, above all, companions to one another. It’s a story of sharing space and sharing of lives.

Who are we? We are unique individuals designed by God to share all things with creation itself. So we can ponder what that means for our life as a congregation. How well do we live together here? Have we shaped a community here that encourages and enables each of us to find her or his place, to be valued and cherished, but also to be called accountable to the ways in which we value and cherish everyone else? It is a challenge for every congregation in every situation.

What does society say to us? Look out for yourself first, we hear. Charity begins at home, we’re told. Shape your own life, make something of yourself. Scripture begins the creation and says, discover your true identity by sharing your life. Know who you are by placing yourself in the company of others and caring for them.

The second great truth of today’s texts is this; God knows that we find this shared living hard, so God offers us what we need to make it possible. Communion and congregation cannot be made real by ourselves. The harder we try to make them work by ourselves the more we risk simply making them in our own human image. We live in a world that knows much of brokenness and sin, of being lost and being hurt. On our own the communion God has created us for remains always elusive.

So we look at the other scriptures today. In both Matthew and in Romans, echoing the adoration of our Psalm set for today, we hear of God’s rescue and God’s goodness. Here is the second dimension to our identity. We are saved by God in order to be God’s children in ways we would never have imagined.

It happens through Jesus and through our faith in the offer of new life he makes to each of us.

It is easy to dismiss these words. Being told not to worry is all too simple to say. Comparing our incredibly complex lives to the birds of the air and the lilies of the field is lovely poetry but hardly seems to do justice to a world of bank accounts, mortgages, pension schemes, insurance, employment, unemployment, loneliness, grief and all the other pressures of living that stress us. We often find ourselves, and know others, in a world full of worries.

Remember this is the Son of God speaking. And Jesus knows plenty about the  riskiness of life. He can say these words and mean them just as much as he can pray for safety in the Garden of Gethsemane and also cry out to God from the cross. In Christ God has come to make all things new. The final result of this new creating lies ahead of us, in a future that is only in God’s hands. But for now we can still let light and goodness shine upon us and, from us, upon others. We can build real communion as children of this new order of God’s love.

Jesus says we are to look and consider, telling us to pay attention to the world and to our lives; to see that God is offering us life and real hope even amidst our struggles and uncertainties. And, often, it will be in sharing with others that some of this truth will break open for us too in unexpected blessings.

This is Paul’s message to us today. We are, through believing in the salvation Jesus Christ has offered us, the newly- adopted children of God. Our identity is shaped by this reality; this relocation from a world that doesn’t know God to a world that does. We can share our lives and our space because we know that, in Christ, God has shared our lives and our space and offered to us real hope.

Who are we? We are the children of God, made to share our lives with one another in love and in hope.

In sharing life, we share as much as we can in the suffering of others. We all face difficulties at this time, but they are nothing compared to our brothers and sisters in Turkey, Syria, the Ukraine and other places. Let us do all we can to help them. Our Lenten self denial can begin early this year as we struggle to serve our neighbour in Christ.

TALK by Sandra 2023.1.22 Christingle family service in All Saints. Is 9:2-6; .Jn 1:1-5

Bless O Lord the words of my lips  and the meditations of our hearts, O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer.

Darkness and light – two opposites we heard so much about in our readings this morning.
The prophet Isaiah wrote about the “deep darkness” in which the people were living. This darkness was the darkness of anguish and spiritual death, under the burden of oppression by the Assyrians.. However, he said, there will come a great light that they will suddenly see which will shine upon them.

Isaiah speaks of a “great light” which would illuminate the darkness of Galilee when the righteous reign of a coming King would begin. When Isaiah wrote to these people who were walking in darkness, they had not yet seen this light, but the coming of this light was so vivid and fixed in Isaiah’s mind that he describes it as if this light had already dawned. Because of this light, the people will experience peace and blessing and a complete reversal of their present condition in deep darkness of evil.

Why is this light significant? It is the light of a new life, the light of glorious hope.

Today is a day of light and we must remember that light permeates the whole of biblical revelation. In the creation account, light is described as victory over darkness. God himself is revealed as the “Light of light”, who is the source of all life. In Isaiah in the next chapter after our reading, (Isaiah 10 v17) Isaiah describes him as the “Light of Israel”.  The whole idea of the coming of Jesus Christ is connected with light because, as in our reading from the gospel of John, Jesus is revealed as the light of the world. (Jn 1:4; 8:12; 12:34). Later in the New Testament Paul writes that as believers, our walk must be in the light of Christ so that all who confess Christ as Lord become a light for the world. (Ephesians 5:8, Philippians 2:15)

The significance of Isaiah’s light for us is that it has shone into our darkness and the greatness of this light has brought us “new life”. As we heard, John wrote “the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” which means the darkness of evil never has  and never will  overcome or extinguish God’s light.   When we follow Jesus the Light, we can avoid walking blindly and falling into sin. He lights the path ahead of us so we can see how to live. 
He removes the darkness of sin from our lives. Remember, we are not the source of God’s light, we merely reflect that light. Jesus Christ is the true light; he helps us to see our way to God and shows us how to walk along the way. Our role is to reflect Christ’s light. We are not the light, but should point others  to Christ, the light.

It was interesting to learn that there are 42 Bible verses about Jesus the Light of the World.
Jesus used the phrase to describe himself and his followers, as we are called to reflect Him in our world. Jesus came so we would experience the power of the Holy Spirit.  God’s loving embrace through the wisdom of His word and our relationship with Him, shed His light on others living in darkness. Jesus brings light to the far corners of the communities and our world.
When we live our lives reflecting the Light, it allows others to see His love. We are called to share the gospel but more importantly than what we say  is how we live. It’s not merely what shining people do, but why they do it  and how they do it.

Have you allowed the light of Christ to shine in your life? Let Christ guide you, so you will not stumble in darkness.

Today we have Christingles to remind us of that – with thanks to Rose and Maggie for their conscientious work putting them together for us. 

It’s an old tradition from a Moravian Church in Germany since 1747 when a minister gave children a lighted candle with a red ribbon around it, representing Jesus being the light of the world.
221 years later, in 1968 The Children’s Society popularized the service in the UK and continues to do so, promoting its work amongst children and young people, normally raising money for children’s charities.

In churches throughout the world Christingle services are held anytime from busy December and throughout Epiphany until Candlemas on 2^nd February,  which commemorates the presentation of the baby Christchild in the Temple and the Purification of his mother Mary six weeks after his birth.
The quieter weeks after Christmas have become popular for Christingle services  to focus on BEING the reflection of the Light of the World.

So what are Christingles?

You have one in front of you. It’s primarily a visual reminder that Christ is the light who came into this world. Those who were here last week were given a donation envelope for The Children’s Society and others can take an envelope this week, and we shall be grateful to receive these back in the Offertory Plate today or next week.

Shall we look more closely at a Christingle to help us remember its significance?

First of all the ORANGE – it is round like the world we live in. It means that God’s love is for everybody, everywhere.

The RED RIBBON  goes all around the world. It is a symbol of Jesus’ blood he shed when he died for us, a reminder that he died for the people of the world.

The CANDLE stands tall and straight and symbolises Jesus as the Light of the World. He talked about himself as light coming into a dark place. He brought to people God’s love into the world in a new way. Jesus said “I am the Light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8 v12)

The FOUR STICKS point in all directions representing North, South, East, and West, another symbol that God’s love is for everyone. They also represent the four seasons, each playing its part in providing the food and sustenance we need to live.  Some people think of the four sticks representing the four Gospels from which we read every week and follow Christ’s teachings.

The DRIED FRUIT AND SWEETS remind us of the fruits of the earth, representing God’s gifts to the world including kindness and love.

So what haven’t we mentioned yet?  Any idea?  Many descriptions of a Christingle don’t even mention it but I think it’s very significant. Yes, the foil – But what about THE FOIL?  Is it there just to catch any falling drops of wax?
Perhaps it can remind us that WE are here to catch any people who might be wavering away from Christ, and maybe we can encourage them back into the fold.
That foil has another function too – it can reflect the candle light. Just as we are called to reflect the light of Christ.  If the foil was flat like a mirror then it would reflect the light perfectly.  But it’s not, is it?

The foil is a bit crumpled, perhaps like us sometimes – somewhat crumpled and not smooth and perfect as we’d like to be – and the image we reflect may not always be perfect in the way that we’d wish. But we are created in God’s image   and we reflect the glory of his Son, Jesus.

And so – may we be as these candles,  and shine out;  so may others see the light of Christ in us – in what we say,   and in what we do, – and so be drawn to Him, to follow Christ, the Light of the World. Amen

This message offered by Sandra Bentall – Authorised Lay Minister by the Diocese of Chichester for the Parish of the Old Town of St Clement & All Saints.

SjB 22.1.2023

The substance of a sermon preached by Bishop Nicholas on the 2^nd Sunday of Epiphany  -15 January 2023, at All Saints’, Hastings.

(based on part of the Sunday Gospel reading – John 1 verses 29-42.)

When I was up North, I used to take a group of clergy from time to time to study a book across the border in a Retreat House North Wales. One year when we there some council workmen were putting up local signs, and one of them told us that it’s quite complicated in Wales because all signs have to be in both Welsh and English. Recently he said he had sent an English sign off to the Translator saying ‘’No Entry for Heavy Goods Vehicles. Residential Site only”. The workman couldn’t believe his good fortune for the translator sent it back immediately, in Welsh, which the workman didn’t speak, and he duly completed the sign that morning . The Residents however, when they returned after that evening were most annoyed when they read the Welsh below the English sign which said ‘I am not in the office at the moment. Send any work to be translate.!!’

Now I don’t think it’s pushing that story too far to suggest that our lives can look a bit like that defective road sign at times. They can seem rather chaotic and fragmented. And the way we Christians live and conduct ourselves can, like that sign, send a mixed set of unrelated messages – especially to those who do not have faith in Jesus Christ, the Son of GOD.

In today’s Gospel John the Baptist says, pointing to JESUS, ‘Behold the Lamb of GOD’. You see that’s what our whole lives should be saying. ‘BEHOLD’ – is the signal we should give to others in our greeting and dealings with others. ‘Behold the Lamb of GOD.’ If our lives are carefully and consistently lived out they will indeed communicate to those we encounter something of the love of GOD, and of the huge difference our faith makes to the way we see the world and live in it, and the way we treat others.

…….So, the truth is, if our lives are well ordered and point in the right way they can gently lead others to Christ and to His Church where they can become part of His saving body on earth and the place where we are built up by receiving Him in His Word and in His Sacraments of which this one, the Eucharist is where we celebrate His life, death, Resurrection and Ascension and receive Him in a very special way. On the other hand, if we fail to live out what we profess, like that Welsh translation of that sign, the sign we give might even lead others to conclude that there’s no-one in the office: and that belief in the God of LOVE as revealed in Jesus is absurd, or at best was summed up 75 years ago by Mahtma Ghandi when he said, ‘ I like your Christ, but I do not like your Christians  because they are so unlike your Christ’.

When we look at today’s Gospel, perhaps we can find some help in shaping our lives as a sign that points to the saving power of Christ and the fundamental importance in living life well and to the full. Look at John the Baptist. He was a man whose life sent a very clear and powerful message to those who came across him because, he wasn’t an ‘I specialist,’ always talking about himself, and drawing attention to himself – rather, any attention that he drew was IMMEDIATELY deflected away from himself to the one that he had come to point to. That’s why he was such an effective signpost to Jesus, because he pointed towards HIM with his whole life which illuminated the truth that he spoke when he said at the beginning of this morning’s Gospel, Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.

..Let us never forget that the faith we have received, which has been handed down to us from Jesus’ First Apostles and is the most important gift that we have to offer to our world. But, if we’re not very careful, our beliefs, the FAITH that we hold can seem to others as simply a set of words with little or no relevance. What brings our faith alive, and what makes it attractive to others is when those words, ‘Behold the Lamb of GOD’ are seen by others to apply in Christians trying to live out their faith in Jesus in every aspect of our lives.

It’s often said that FAITH is caught, rather than taught. Others will catch it ONLY if they see Jesus Christ, the Lamb of GOD,  alive in OUR lives. So many people in today’s world are searching for hope and meaning in life and are yearning to see the great richness that life with Christ can hold for them. Christians, members of Christ’s Church, truly we can aid them in their seeking, if we open our hearts to GOD the Holy Spirit to help us to live lives that point to Jesus, the Son of God.

Homily All Saints Old Town Hasting Epiphany. 2023

One of the traditions that we have adopted over the years is that after the Epiphany Mass we would go home and write on our wall by the front and back door the initials of the Magi and the year. For example, this year we would write C+M+B 2023. Tradition has it that the wise men were called Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar. Hence their initials and year of our Lord.

It was early in the 3rd century the wise men were considered to be kings, probably interpreted as the fulfilment of the prophecy in Psalms 72:11 (“May all kings fall down before him”). In about the 8th century the names of three Magi appear in a chronicle known as the Excerpta latina barbari. They have become known most commonly as Balthasar, Melchior, and Casper. According to Western church tradition, Balthasar is often represented as a king of Arabia or sometimes Ethiopia, Melchior as a king of Persia, and Caspar as a king of India.

Which leads me on to one of my favorite carol’s which is “We Three Kings of Orient Are”, in this carol we hear directly a rich exploration of the meaning of their gifts.

We three kings of Orient are.

Bearing gifts, we traverse afar

Field and fountain

Moor and mountain, following yonder star.

Scripture doesn’t say how many wise men there were, but traditionally we speak of three, since there were three gifts given to Jesus. These gifts of the wise men are known to every child who has taken part in a school nativity play: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. As we celebrate the Epiphany, we can either just look back on the past events, or we can make it real for ourselves in 2023. If we do the latter, which is what true worship demands, then we must present our gifts before God. Each of us has gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh that we can offer in the service of God and others:

Born a King on Bethlehem plain,

Gold, I bring to crown him again.

King forever, ceasing never,

Over us all to reign:

GOLD is one of the most valuable metals we can buy. If we give someone an article made from gold we are saying that we consider them very special, and precious to us. Engagement rings, weddings rings, retirement watches all pay tribute to this. What are the precious things in our life that God has given to us?

Husband or wife, children and grandchildren, health, friends, family? Whatever this gold may be, Epiphany is the feast for acknowledging it before the Christ-child, and for thanking God for such a blessing in our lives. Our gifts of gold remind us that life is precious.

Frankincense to offer have I,

Incense owns a deity nigh.

Prayer and praising, all men raising,

Worship him, God most high.

FRANKINCENSE produces a fragrance that sweetens and freshens the atmosphere. It falls somewhere between a modern-day air freshener and a very strong perfume. What talents and skills do I have which can make life more pleasant for those around me? Maybe things as diverse as being able to sing, to bake a cake, to arrange flowers, to sew, knit or embroider, to paint, to play a musical instrument, to cook or to tell a good story. Whatever our gifts are in this direction, Epiphany gives us the chance to thank God for them and an opportunity to promise to use them more in the coming year. Our gift of frankincense can make life sweeter for others.

Myrrh is mine; it’s better perfume

Breathes a life of gathering gloom;

Sorrow, signing, bleeding, dying

Sealed in the stone-cold tomb:

MYRRH is an ointment used to soothe, to heal and to act as a salve. Its modern-day equivalent is some sort of medicine, a jelly or cream. What are the situations in our lives which are in need of healing? Are we called to patch up a long-standing argument with a member of our family? Are we being asked to visit someone on our street who needs a listening ear? Do we know of people just recently bereaved? Can we mediate in a dispute, pour oil on troubled waters, or visit someone who is in prison, hospital or sick at home? We all have the gift of myrrh; only some of us use it.

Epiphany is about bearing gifts before the infant Jesus. We too have our own gold, frankincense, and myrrh. To celebrate this feast is to promise to bring our gifts. And so, we end with the chorus of We Three Kings and make it our prayer.

O star of wonder, star of night,

Star with royal beauty bright,

Westward leading, still proceeding,

Guide us to thy perfect light.

Robin Tree

“Fight the good fight of faith; take hold of the eternal life, to which you were called and for which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.” (I Tim. 6.12)

(The Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity, 25^th September 2022, St Clement’s Hastings)

Acts 20.37-38: “And they all wept and embraced Paul and kissed him, sorrowing most of all because of the word he had spoken, that they should see his face no more.”

Trust me, it is a strong temptation to take those words from the description of the Ephesian elders at Miletus just before St Paul sailed away after his farewell speech as my valedictory text.

But St Paul’s closing words to Timothy in today’s second reading seem equally appropriate this morning.

“Fight the good fight of faith; take hold of the eternal life, to which you were called and for which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesess.”

Believe it or not, it is now two years ago, just before our Harvest Festival Service on 27th September 2020, that Pat Lock introduced me as your new part-time priest-in-charge.  There was polite applause from the thirty or so folk gathered in St Clement’s, doubtless born out of relief that the parish had its own priest as much as anything.  But we have worked together, rather than as many teams of one, and the parish is in a significantly stronger position than it was two years ago.

Fight the good fight of faith: This we have done and do.  Everything we do to promote the work of this parish is an act of faith, an act of witness, an act of confidence in the faith our two churches represent. There is a most tremendous sense of energy in this parish.  Remember we need Marthas as well as Marys.  It is Martha “who sweeps a room as for thy law makes that and the action fine.”

We have grown and diversified our membership.  We have expanded our choir. We have improved our finances, making maximum use of our assets in drawing rental income from the garage and the former office in the Lower Hall and introducing digital payment. We have improved our governance and communications, not least through our website and Facebook and e-mail list.   We have received more media coverage than all the other churches in Hastings combined.  Collaborative ministry is becoming a reality.  We have the Rossetti exhibition.  We have undertaken major works on St Clement’s which is now secure for the immediate and mid-term future.  All Saints and the Hall have had due attention.  But more than these and the other things we have achieved, we are functioning so much more as the Body of Christ with our many diverse gifts and abilities, working as one team of many and not many teams of one.  Unlike most churches for which the pandemic has been years that the locusts have eaten, we have emerged from the pandemic in significantly better shape than when it began.  Wow.  Just let that sink in.

In my first sermon as your priest-in-charge, just before the second lockdown, I quoted from St Clement’s letter to the Church in Corinth:

“In Christ Jesus, then, let this corporate body of ours be likewise maintained intact, with each of us giving way to our neighbour in proportion to our spiritual gifts.”

And I went on to say:

“Let me be absolutely clear.  This is not my parish.  It is not even our parish.  It is Jesus Christ’s parish.  We are its current stewards and we need to respect those who have been stewards in the past by ensuring its long-term viability for the next six hundred years.”

And yet. And yet, lest we be too pleased with ourselves, there remain undone those things that we ought to have done – mission in Clive Vale, a greater engagement with All Saints School, completion of the replica Bayeux Tapestry project, re-launching the Sunday School.  And it is of particular disappointment to me in terms of things left undone that I never mastered the doors to the Morris Rooms.  It is a case of push or is it pull?

And during our two years together I won’t have got every decision correct and I apologise to anyone whom I may have offended inadvertently or spoken to in a manner perhaps more robust than pastoral.  It’s called being human and clergy are as fallible as anyone else.

A comment for our mutual reflection: Dare I suggest that we were the right match for each other at this particular stage of my ministry and at this point in the parish’s history?  My unexpected ministerial Indian summer has certainly helped to provide an improved balance in my ministry between parish and school.  And  it has been a particular joy for me to re-connect with my Hastings past.  I came to you as a fellow pilgrim but not as a stranger.

Take hold of eternal life: All these things are only of importance if we keep the vision of God’s Kingdom before us.  It can be so easy in church life to become so engrossed with things temporal that we are in danger of losing those things that are eternal.  We must always lift up our eyes unto the hills.

There is the throne of David,

And there, from care released,

The shout of them that triumph,

The song of them that feast;

And they, who with their leader

Have conquered in the fight,

For ever and for ever

Are clad in robes of white.

Make the Good Confession in the presence of many witnesses:  As I said in my first sermon, we enter into the labour of worshippers, known and unknown down the centuries.  We join their stream of prayer just as others will one day join ours.  On several occasions I have said that the Church neglects its doctrine of the Communion of Saints even though week by week we claim that we believe it when we recite the Creed.  We worship this morning with the whole company of heaven, with those who have gone before us in the faith.  We are indeed called to make the good confession in the presence of many witnesses, seen – and unseen.

So which text shall we choose?

“And they all wept and embraced Paul and kissed him, sorrowing most of all because of the word he had spoken, that they should see his face no more.”

But that text is about a man named Paul and a parish consists of far more than any single individual and clergy come and clergy go and a new chapter opens.  And I am not Roger Federer. Just remember: It was never my parish or even your parish.  It is the parish of Jesus Christ.  Your new priest-in-charge will have his or her own gifts and will be different from me.   Your new priest will need your support. 

So the better text is that which focuses on the future and which draws strength from the past and calls for action in the present:

“Fight the good fight of faith; take hold of the eternal life, to which you were called and for which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.”

Fight the good fight with all thy might;

Christ is thy strength, and Christ thy right;

Lay hold on life, and it shall be

Thy joy and crown eternally.                                         © Paul Hunt 2022

“Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who need no repentance. “ (Luke 15.7)

(The Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity, 11^th September 2022, St. Clement’s, Hastings but preached on 18^th September)

A few months ago, I lost my watch, an item that has sentimental value as well as enabling me to tell the time.  I couldn’t find it anywhere and it made for a somewhat disconcerting day.  It was, however, even more disconcerting when I eventually found it – it had been on my wrist all the time.

Losing a set of keys is another matter altogether and can engender panic as well as frustration.  The implications can be serious.  I can remember losing the vicarage keys in my last parish and the spare set was actually some seventy miles away.  It was late on a winter Friday afternoon and after a proverbial search high and low, I concluded that I had left them on the desk in my study when I had set out on parochial rounds earlier in the day.  A well-equipped parishioner arrived with a torch which he shone through the study window onto my desk.  But no keys were to be seen.

In my desperation, I suddenly realised that I hadn’t looked in a local residential home where I had taken communion to two residents earlier that day.  I should have remembered because when I had walked into the room, one resident looked at me, turned to the other, and said, “Well, if it’s with him, you had better watch your pearls!”  I should have watched my keys because I had placed them on a table to avoid rattling in my cassock pocket and the aforementioned resident had taken them to her room, convinced that they were the keys to her former house.

I cannot be the only person here who has lost or mislaid a set of keys and experienced the contrasting emotions of panic upon the realisation that the keys have been lost and the sheer relief and joy when they are eventually found. 

A lost watch, lost keys, a lost sheep, a lost coin.

Panic, relief, joy. That’s how we experience losing something of importance and then finding it.

But what about when we are lost?  Does anyone remember the days when sheepdog trials were held every summer in Alexandra Park?  I can’t have been very old but I remember vividly my sense of sheer panic when I became separated from my grandmother and the relief and joy at being re-united after what seemed like a long time but was probably a matter of minutes.  Being lost in that way is an experience known to many of us.

But being lost is not simply a matter of geography be it lost in Alexandra Park or Lost in Space.  It can be existential too.  We talk, don’t we, of “lost souls”?

Luke chapter fifteen has the unofficial title of Parables of the Lost.  This morning’s parables of the shepherd making the utmost effort to find his sheep and the woman sweeping the house to find a coin are followed immediately by the Parable of the Prodigal Son.  There we have a truly lost soul, someone for our times as much as biblical times, someone who wants instant material gratification with no thought for life’s longer-term.  But there is redemption.  Pride might have prevented him from realising his situation.  But humility causes him to return to his father’s house prepared to be as one of his father’s servants.

There is something of the most tremendous theological importance here.  And it is this.  The father forgives his son before he even knows what his son will say.  He forgives his son before he knows that his son has repented.  Forgiveness comes before confession.  Such is the father’s joy.  Such is the father’s joy that he engages in what would have been considered to be a most undignified action in picking up his skirt and running towards his son.  Such is the Father’s love for his son.  The son who had lost his way had returned.  Perhaps we might reflect how all too often our forgiveness of others can sometimes be a grudging forgiveness conditional upon the other person saying sorry first.  True forgiveness is never conditional and can it not be the case that such unconditional forgiveness brings about repentance in the person who has been forgiven?  In such a way can a lost relationship be found.

Lost Souls.  In today’s second lesson we heard St Paul telling Timothy about his lost past as a blasphemer, a persecutor and a man of violence.  “This is a true saying,” writes St Paul, “and worthy of all men to be believed.  That Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.”

The slave ship owner John Newton, whose words we sang during our Gospel procession, would have meditated on that verse from St. Paul.  Lost at sea in a raging storm in 1748, Newton realised that his life was just as lost as his ship.  This began his journey from a blaspheming and coarse slave trader to conversion and eventual ordination.  This journey was only made possible by God’s unconditional love, that amazing grace of which Newton later wrote.

Losing, searching, finding, restoring, celebrating.  We are eager, sometimes even desperate to find something that we have lost.  But when it comes to our lives, do we always really want to be found?  Is it not sometimes easier to remain hidden in our own darkness, whatever form that might take in our lives?  Are we really so important to God that there will be rejoicing in the heavens?  Jesus’ parables of the lost say to the pharisees and the scribes, to the sinners and the tax collectors and to St Paul and John Newton and to us that we are.

“Amazing grace (how sweet the sound)

That saved a wretch like me!

I once was lost, but now am found.

Was blind, but now I see.”

© Paul Hunt 2022

“For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory above all measure because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal.” (2 Cor.4 17)

(On the Death of Her Late Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, St. Clement’s, Hastings, 11^th September 2022)

The Queen is dead.  Long live the King!  How strange that statement and sentiment sound.  Her Late Majesty’s death, though inevitable and at a prosaic level hardly unexpected, still shocks and saddens and disturbs us.

It shocks and saddens and disturbs because the Queen has always been present in our lives, a constant re-assurance over decades in which we have experienced, individually and as a nation, the changes and the chances of this fleeting world.  From her first broadcast at the age of fourteen during the Blitz to her broadcast in a time of Covid.  We need to be approaching eighty to have any memory of Her Late Majesty’s adored father George VI.

Memories of Queen Elizabeth:  We may have memories of meeting the Queen or of seeing  her at a distance or the imprint of images seen on television or in print.  We may possibly remember watching the Coronation on a black and white television set in 1953.  Or watching a television series entitled The Royal Family at Home on, I seem to recall, Sunday evenings in the late 1960s.  That was groundbreaking television, if you remember it, because it removed some of the mystique around the Royal Family.  As an undergraduate, I can remember the Queen’s visit to Durham for Her Silver Jubilee in 1977.  We will recall the Jubilee celebrations in the years after 1977, interspersed with the family disappointments and tragedies and bereavements that can affect all families.  And on this most solemn of occasions in our Island history, we cannot and should not separate Her Late Majesty from her devoted husband Prince Philip and we remain moved by that image of Queen Elizabeth sitting alone in St George’s Chapel at her husband’s funeral.  How good it was that we were able to celebrate her Platinum Jubilee this year but the Queen would have been so conscious of Prince Philip’s absence.

I preached about Her Late Majesty’s Christian faith during our Accession Service in February.  Our late sovereign has never hidden her faith and has spoken about it movingly during her Christmas broadcasts. I also made reference to her immensely strong sense of duty and service and this has included her service as Supreme Governor of the Church of England.

Our sovereign was a unifying figure, a mother figure almost, to both Nation and Commonwealth.  In June I was invited to say Grace at the Platinum Jubilee Dinner in Toronto and was surprised, although perhaps I shouldn’t have been, by the esteem and affection in which the Queen was held by Canadians.  In his after-dinner speech, Mr Mulrooney, the former Canadian Prime Minister, spoke of the respect in which the Queen was held by all the Commonwealth Heads of State and about how knowledgeable and informed she was about Commonwealth affairs.

It was that priest and poet born during the reign of the first Queen Elizabeth who preached that no-man is an island because we lose something of our shared humanity every time someone dies.  Does it not feel today that something has died within ourselves?  With the death of our sovereign we have lost something of our own history, collective but also individual.  “No man is an island entire of itself.…therefore send not to ask for whom the bell tolls.  It tolls for thee.”  The tolling of the All Saints’ bell on Thursday evening was tolling also for us.

The weight of glory.  It was Mr Churchill, Prime Minister in 1952, who said that a New Elizabethan Age had begun.  To say that it has been an age of so much change is to state the blindingly obvious.  The Elizabethan Age began with the end of Empire symbolized by Mr Eden’s folly and fiasco at Suez.  It ends with Britain’s uncertain place in an uncertain world.  It began with black and white television and one channel in a small minority of households.  It ends in an age of programme streaming on demand, the world wide web and ever more sophisticated mobile telephones. Think of the sweeping changes in social attitudes, not least those on race and sexual identities.  And those grand housing schemes of the 1960s, the tower block and vast estates, those earthly Jerusalems, have indeed, like tower and temple, turned to dust.  The changes of seventy years have been vast and challenging, sometimes frightening, sometimes inspiring.

“For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory, above all measure because we look not at what can be seen but at what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal.”

Her Late Majesty’s death disturbs us because it also holds a mirror to our own mortality.  Our own outer nature is wasting away.  Think of those changing portraits and images of the Queen, not least on postage stamps, over the decades.  Think of photographs that record us across the decades.  We would do well to share the Christian confidence of our late sovereign.  The pomp and circumstance of State occasions, like tower and temple, waste away down the years.  But Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever. We who are wearied by the changes and chances of this fleeting world may rest upon His eternal changelessness, for what can be seen is temporary and what cannot be seen is eternal.

So like our late sovereign, let us prepare for that weight of glory of which St. Paul speaks.  Weight, baros in Greek.  The word denotes quantity or excess and not simply weight as in a burden or pressure.  The eternal weight of glory is above and beyond all measure, such is the difference between this temporal world of change and chance and that other country not made by hands.

And there’s another country
I’ve heard of long ago
Most dear to them that love her
Most great to them that know

We may not count her armies
We may not see her King
Her fortress is a faithful heart
Her pride is suffering

And soul by soul and silently
Her shining bounds increase
And her ways are ways of gentleness
And all her paths are peace

© Paul Hunt 2022

A Sermon preached by Keith Leech, Authorised Lay Minister

In Today’s Gospel Luke 14 in verses 26 , 27 and 33 we read  ‘Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple… none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.’

Without wanting to sound like some kind of evangelical Delboy, as parish missioner part of my job is to try to ‘sell’  Christianity… In fact all of us are asked to be missioners.  To promote the faith, to bring people to Christ. So quite how do we do this with this passage?  If we go out there and say to people. ‘Firstly hate your family and secondly give up all your possessions.’   Somehow I don’t think this will be a very good sound byte, and is certainly not going to bring many to Christ.  In fact if this is the case perhaps most of us should get up and leave right now. I love my family very much and although I don’t have much in the way of possessions, I would be loath to give them up. Even the most ardent biblical fundamentalist who takes every word in the Bible literally would find these ideas difficult.

On the face of it this morning’s Gospel is an almost impossible task.  Imagine you are one of the people going to listen to Jesus being told there was an inspirational speaker coming to town and they were going to give a speech on the beach. So you get together with your friends and family, pack a nice picnic and go off to have a good time looking forward to coming away feeling inspired in a feel good fluffy kind of way. You meet people on the way and you settle down to listen. He turns up and launches straight into this. Hate your family, take up your cross, sell your possessions. Far from feeling fluffy and warm you feel challenged and possibly alienated.  We need to remember that Jesus was an orator and a teacher.  What we have here is a good example of Jesus gaining attention from His audience.  It shakes them from where they comfortably are and eventually brings them to a deeper understanding of where they should be. It’s a speech making tool. In typical Jesus style he is speaking in hyperbole and metaphor.

What He is saying is you have come here to get something nice and warm and fluffy. I am giving you more than that, but I expect more from you as well.  He is trying to explain that Christianity is not always the easiest path, there are times when you will come against other pulls on your life, family, friends and possessions can all get in the way. If it comes to a choice, Christ, or a member of the family who is trying to turn you from Christ, it will be difficult. If your possessions are weighing you down so much that you cannot get to Christ because of them then perhaps you should lose them.

We also need to look at the translation of the text.  In Greek the word miseo, ‘hate’ in this context is not as strong as it is in the English language.  It’s more a matter of different kinds of love, Greek has all sorts of different terms for love and it makes a subtle difference.  It means do not love your family more than you love God.  You may say I hate war and the way people are so cruel to each other. This is not the same as I hate shopping.  It’s a matter of degree.’ Love God and hate your family’ is not what Jesus is saying. He is saying keep God in the front of your mind no matter what other pulls you may have on your life.  He is not contradicting the commandment to honour your father and mother. As Christians we are called to love one another not hate. This is one of the first rules of discipleship; Christ is not overturning that here.

There may be a disagreement about faith.  Disagreement happens in families. How many families were divided over Brexit? How many parents and children still have issues over this? A good loving family will probably just not mention it as they know it will cause problems. It may well be that there is disagreement within a family and some of that disagreement may be deeply held. Jesus is saying in this case do not lose your faith simply because of family pressures…I am often asked by my children how I can as a scientist also believe in God and but that is for another day.  It is nevertheless a family pressure. If the pressures are strong trying not to love your family more than God may well not be an easy task.

I question how many of us here actually read The Bible and pray every day as we are supposed to?  I remember in Sunday School my favourite song of the time ‘I will make you Fishers of Men’. One verse was ‘ Read your Bible pray every day if you want to grow’. Priests and other ministers are supposed to do the daily office. That is to say Morning or Evening prayer every day. If we are being honest do we all do that?  Or are there occasions when life simply gets in the way. Or if we do;  it is with resentment because we actually want to be doing something else.  The call of the family or of other things we want to do overwhelms.  Your wife says ‘The baby is crying can you see what is happening I am cooking’…’Sorry dear hang on I am half way through the Psalm’.  I’m not sure that response quite fits with the great commandment to love your neighbour neither will it lead to a happy marriage. Jesus is not asking us to do this. He is simply asking us to find time for Him and not allow other things to crowd Him out. If you really don’t have any time to do the whole psalm, then at least recite the Lord’s Prayer. It is possible to pray while doing something else. I often do it when walking to the shop or driving somewhere.

The confession in Cranmer’s Morning Prayer neatly sums up what we should do as opposed to what we usually do. ‘ Almighty and most merciful Father, We have erred, and strayed from thy ways like lost sheep, We have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts, We have offended against thy holy laws, We have left undone those things which we ought to have done, And we have done those things which we ought not to have done, And there is no health in us.’  This is recited every day, it recognises that we are not perfect and we are sinners and will stray. All Jesus is asking us to do is try our best and not give up and not allow family or possessions to get in the way.

Where does that leave us as a Christian salesmen ?  This is still a big ask. It is still not a nice warm fluffy feeling, it is far deeper and stronger than that and it does require sacrifice.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer the German anti -nazi theologian (who was eventually executed), speaks of cheap grace. “Cheap grace means grace sold on the market like cheapjacks’ wares. The sacraments, the forgiveness of sin, and the consolations of religion are thrown away at cut prices. …!’ Costly grace is the treasure hidden in the field; for the sake of it a man will go and sell all that he has. It is the pearl of great price to buy which the merchant will sell all his goods. It is the kingly rule of Christ, for whose sake a man will pluck out the eye which causes him to stumble; it is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his nets and follows him’.

So when we engage in mission, we are not selling a cheap second hand product that will just keep you warm and fluffy.  There are many pedlars of other faiths and ideologies out there doing that. We are selling something much greater and more rewarding; but it is not without cost. God would not make it impossible… we can do it. He just requires commitment.  Quoting Bonhoeffer  ‘God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered him up for us. Costly grace is the Incarnation of God…When Christ calls a man he bids him come and die’.  Bearing a cross is not something passive (like putting up with a difficult situation) but an active decision to follow Christ.  In so doing we grasp the true value of the pearl of great price and in putting Christ first we will automatically love our families as Christ loves us.

Amen

“But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you ‘Friend, move up higher’.”  (Luke 14.10)

(The Eleventh Sunday after Trinity, 28^th August 2022, St Clement’s, Hastings)

What was your excuse at school for not having done your homework or prep?  That it was eaten by the dog has been replaced by “There was an internet outage” or “My printer wasn’t working”.   But the best excuse I ever heard involved neither the internet, nor a printer nor a dog.

“Why haven’t you done your homework, Lizzie?” I asked.

“Well, the Prime Minister came to dinner and I had to study the news because I was going to sit next to him,” came the child’s crushing reply.   By way of explanation, I should say that Lizzie’s father was the editor of The Guardian.

Dinner with the Prime Minister.  I’ve organized many dinners in my time involving politicians and clergy.  The most difficult aspect is organising the sitting plan so as to upset the least number of people possible.  Deciding who is to sit with the star speaker on the top table is the most difficult task.  Politicians and politicos can be difficult, trust me, but clergy are worse.  Almost thirty years ago I was asked to organise the dinner to celebrate Bishop Eric Kemp’s twentieth anniversary as Bishop of Chichester and I foolishly allowed an archdeacon – I had only been ordained two years and I thought that  archdeacons were important – to persuade me to have two seating plans with some diners moving after the main course.  The archdeacon in question was obviously keen to be seated next to the main speaker, Archbishop Robert Runcie.  In an act of pure nepotism, I had seated my then wife next to him and so, after the main course, she was replaced by the archdeacon.

I still have Robert Runcie’s handwritten ‘thank you’ note.  It concludes, “My only complaint about the proceedings is that I would have preferred not to exchange your absolutely delightful wife Helen for an archdeacon!”  Exclamation mark!  I rather think that the self-important archdeacon should have stayed in the lower place.  “For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Human nature has not changed since the days of Jesus or since Bishop Eric’s dinner.  We know the story of James and John who requested the places of honour next to Jesus in the Kingdom of God.  Not surprisingly, the other ten disciples were angry with James and John when they found out about their request.  The response of Jesus was that true greatness is to be found in service and not in lording it over other people.  The disciples should have borne this morning’s Old Testament lesson in mind:

“Do not put yourself forward in the king’s presence or stand in the place of the great; for it is better to be told, ‘Come up here’, than to be put lower in the presence of a noble.” (Proverbs 25.6-7)

Jesus told this morning’s parable when he noticed how the leading pharisee’s guests chose the places of honour at the dinner.  The cultural context was one in which rank and ranking was important.  Ranking and status remains important for many people today and we might ponder the question of rank and status in the Church today.  Difference of ministry is one thing but difference of status is another.  Pope Francis is impressive in the way he combines his ministry as Pope with the humility of a servant, bearing in mind that one of the Pope’s titles is ‘Servant of the servants of God’.  By way of contrast, there was a massive row in the Greek Orthodox Church some years ago when a bishop was formally disposed for  what was described as “coveting other thrones”.  Jostling for position or rushing to the top table is not a good look for Christians.  True honour is something which not only must be earned but is something that can only be accorded by others.  “Friend, move up higher.”  Self-accorded honour is likely to end in self-embarrassment.

How does all this apply to us and our life together?  It is a reminder that we are in danger of seeking a better seat at the Lord’s table each time we draw attention to ourselves – look at me, see how much I do for your Church, Lord.  But we take our place, high or low, at the Lord’s table in the Kingdom of God not by virtue of our works but by God’s Grace.  It is by invitation only.

We are invited by God’s Grace to the Lord’s table this morning to receive the Holy Communion in anticipation of the heavenly banquet in the Kingdom of God.  We do not partake because we are a priest or lay minister or churchwarden or are long-serving church members or because of all that we have done or do for the Church.  The Holy Communion is a gift and not a right.

James and John.  The archdeacon at Bishop Eric’s dinner.  The Greek Orthodox Bishop.  Perhaps, if we are honest with ourselves, there have been past occasions when we have sought to push ourselves forward.  This is the way of the world.  It is sometimes the way of the Church.  It is not the way of Jesus.

We cannot earn our place in the Kingdom.  Nor do we deserve it.  But if we can bring ourselves to recognise our true status as humble supplicants before the Throne of Grace, we shall hear the Lord’s invitation to us this morning.  Jesus says: “Draw near with faith: Friend, move up higher.”

© Paul Hunt 2022

“Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe; for indeed our God is a consuming fire.”  (Hebrews 12.28-29)

(The Tenth Sunday after Trinity, 21^st August 2022, St Clement’s, Hastings)

From a recent edition of the Church Times:

A Roman Catholic priest in Italy has been forced to apologise after celebrating mass at sea, using an inflatable mattress as an altar. Fr Mattia Bernasconi took to the water with a party of high-school students at the end of their week’s camp in Crotone, southern Italy, to escape the searing heat. He donned swimming shorts, and beachgoers nearby joined the students in the water for the service. Pictures of the service were shared on social media extensively.  He is now being investigated by the Italian authorities, for “offence to a religious confession”, which carries a fine of up to €5000.

The report does not tell us whether Fr Bernasconi’s swimming shorts were liturgical green for the Trinity season and I can only wish that I had the power to impose fines for some of the liturgical horror shows that go on in the Church of England.

Now I am, as you well know, a stuffy liturgical conservative at home in the Book of Common Prayer and proper hymns.  I genuinely love a classic Victorian dirge, I really do, and I’m unlikely to celebrate the Holy Communion on an inflatable mattress at sea any time soon.

In reality, of course, I know that we can worship God in an infinite variety of ways because God is infinite and it is literally blasphemous to assume that we can reduce him to the confines of any one style of worship.  We can find different styles of worship to be unsettling or disturbing in the best sense or just plain confusing.  I can remember covering a Sunday service in a church more evangelical than is my preference.  It was my first experience of people raising their right hands in worship.  My first thoughts were that my sermon had elicited a lot of questions or that rather a lot of people needed the loo.  But, of course, some members of the congregation were using their hands in worship just as I might use my hand to make the sign of the cross.  And making the sign of the cross will not be part of everyone’s worship in our parish which is pretty diverse in its churchmanship.

The danger for all of us, whatever our preferred form of worship, is that we seek, however unwittingly, to confine God within our liturgical preference.  It is an attempt to domesticate our God and to construct a God who conforms to our image of Him.  Now it’s pretty obvious that God is a member of the Church of England with a preference for the Book of Common Prayer and Victorian hymns but should we not recognise that He might occasionally like different forms of worship?

The style of Christian worship has changed over the centuries, although Christians have always remained faithful to Jesus’ command to celebrate the Holy Communion in remembrance of Him as the central act of worship.   But I sometimes need to remind myself that the Book of Common Prayer was denounced as having the frivolity of a “Christmas Game” when it was introduced to replace the Latin Mass.  Indeed, in 1549 there was an armed rebellion against the Prayer Book in the South West of England.  Perhaps we should have had armed rebellion against the Alternative Service Book or Common Worship.  Moving on a few centuries from the Prayer Book revolt, we might be surprised to learn that hymn singing was considered a vulgar and unseemly innovation and fit only for Methodists, Baptists and other religious undesirables.  Consider this: Hymn singing was not officially sanctioned in the Church of England until the 1820s.  Times and tastes change.

So what is my point in recounting all this?  We will all have views, strongly held, about the best way in which to worship.  This is a good thing because it demonstrates that worship is important to us.

But we should never lose sight of St Paul’s words to that chaotic church in Corinth that worship should be conducted decently and in due order.  Worship is an offering to God in which we must always strive to give of our best.

And let us recall my text for today:

“Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe; for indeed our God is a consuming fire.”

Reverence and awe.  Modern worship songs usually lack the theological weight of Victorian hymns but this morning’s worship song is spot on:

“Be still, for the Spirit of the Lord,

  The Holy One is here.

  Come, bow before him now

  With reverence and fear.”

We do indeed stand on holy ground.  Worship in whatever style, ancient or modern, is not true worship if it is casual or trivialised, just going through the motions, offered without real thought to what we are saying or singing or praying or preaching.

So let us approach the altar rail this morning with reverence and awe and bow down before Him in our hearts.  “For indeed our God is a consuming fire.”

© Paul Hunt 2022

A Sermon by Dr Pat Lock, Diocesan Reader

14^th August 2022   Hebrews 12  vv 1-2

I am using the words from vv 1-2 of Hebrews that we had as our epistle reading today: .. and let us run the course that is marked our for us.  Very apt in this time of Olympic and Commonwealth Games.

I’ve been trying to tidy my study floor and put things away and all I do is unearth more papers.  But I found this certificate: Arctic Certificate.  “This is to certify that Patricia Lock crossed the Arctic Circle on Thursday 16^th August 2007”.  Now, what is in your mind?  Me traipsing through the Arctic up to my knees in snow with a large backpack, or being pulled along by a sledge, looking out for polar bears. Things are not as they seem, you see, it says at 07.42am on 16^th August. Now those of you who know me, know that I am a night owl and not a morning lark.  7.42am is off the radar for getting up.  no, I stayed in bed that day and managed to do this infamous crossing from my bed.

Things are not always what at first glance they appear to be.  These verses from Hebrews are one of those examples – it is all laid out so simply, all we have to do is follow and everything will be hunky dory. But it is one of those great moving passages of the New Testament, and the writer has given us an excellent summary of the Christian life.

Now we don’t know who penned the Book of Hebrews. Some people say it was Paul, some say it was Barnaba, some Apollos, but we don’t really know for sure who put pen to paper and wrote it… but we do know that it was inspired by God. And our text this morning, coming from chapter 12, comes right on the heels of what theologians have typically called the “The Heroes of the Faith Chapter”; chapter 11. In chapter 11, we are given a long list of Biblical characters who, by faith, did amazing things, and accomplished amazing things. We read about Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph. We read about Moses and Rahab, Gideon, David, Samuel, and others. And there’s this long list, and that’s what brings us to chapter 12, which starts out in verse 1 by saying, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses…” In other words, all of these people mentioned in chapter 11… all of these people who had faith, and who by faith, served God, and obeyed God, and walked with God, and were used by God to do miraculous things, and endure all sorts of things, and accomplish all kinds of amazing things… all of those people, are this cloud of witness that chapter 12 verse 1 is referring to. And the writer of Hebrews says, “those believers… those men and women of faith. They should motivate you to lay aside the sin that ensnares you, so that you can run the full race… and finish the race.”

He is saying, “remember the saints who have gone on before us. Remember what they have endured. Remember what God has done through their lives. Remember how God used them in mighty ways, as they were faithful and obedient to Him and His Word.”

They are a witness to us that God will finish what He has started in you. They are a witness to us, that God is not only the Author, but the finisher of our faith. In-fact; that’s what our text goes on to say – that God is the Founder and Perfecter of our faith. Now a lot of times you’ll hear people say, “those believers who have gone on before us, are looking down on us – cheering us on”. That’s not what this passage is saying here. The Greek word for “witnesses” here in the word “Martys” – it’s where we get our word “Martyr”. What the author of Hebrews is saying to us is that those who have gone on before us, are a witness to us of how God will get you through. They are a witness to us of how God will bring to completion the good work He began in you. And they are a witness to us of how God will use the man or woman who has true, lasting, faith!

In other words, these are people who didn’t just make a profession of faith… these are people who acted upon their faith, they lived it out consistently, day in and day out. They are examples for us… and give us a roadmap so that we can stay on course, and finish the race.

How do we do it? We lay aside every weight, and the sin that clings so closely to us… What’s dragging you down? What’s keeping you from running the race of faith… what weights are you carrying? A weight is anything that is hindering your walk with Christ… it’s anything that’s keeping you from loving God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. The author of Hebrews says, “Lay those things aside.” Now there’s another way to look at that as well. You see, the Greek runners would train with weighted clothing, but when it came time to actually race, they would remove those weights, so that they can run with purpose, and at their full potential. And why is that important?  “The Christian race isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon.” And to that I would say, “No… it’s an ultra-marathon.  And if you’ve got weights hindering you, you’re never going to finish… you’re going to drop out. So… we are told to lay aside every weight – everything that distracts us, and hinders us from following Christ to the fullest. But we’re also told to not only lay aside every weight, but also the sin that clings to us so closely…

Now hear me… sin, by its very nature, is not following Christ. If you or I sin, we’ve deviated from following Christ. We’ve fallen out of formation so to speak. Because Jesus is going one way, and we’re supposed to be running the race, looking to Him, as He has led the way, but when we sin, we’ve taken our eyes off Jesus, and turned in another direction.  Yes, and it’s causing you to go in a different direction than Jesus. It’s causing you to get off track in this race of faith. And ultimately; it’s going to kill you – the wages of sin is death! Strip it off, lay it aside, and don’t go back and pick it up again. We’ve got to run this race. How do we do it? With endurance, looking to Jesus! That’s how we do it.

In the Christian life we have a goal – the Christian is not an unconcerned stroller along the byways of life, he is a wayfarer on the high road. He is not a tourist; he is a pilgrim and the goal is nothing less than the likeness of Christ.  No-one would seek to climb mount Everest with lumber weighing him down. If we are to travel far, we must travel light. There is in life an essential duty of discarding things.  We must shed these as the athlete sheds his track suit when he goes to the starting mark. And we may need the help of Christ to do this. And of course, we have an example in the person of Christ himself. For the goal that was set before him, he endured all things, to win it meant the way of the cross. Jesus now is the goal of our journey and our companion along the way – the one with whom we meet and the on with whom we travel. And the one who will greet us when the race is finished.

 The race is set before us. Some of you are maybe just starting the race… some of you… your race is almost done. But it doesn’t matter where you are in the race, I pray that you finish it. That you continue looking to Jesus who is the Author and Finisher of your faith. I pray that you lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely to you. And I pray that if you’ve gone off track… or if you’ve turned and gone the wrong direction, that God will get your attention, and set you in the right direction once more.

“For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

 (2 Peter 1.16)

(The Feast of the Transfiguration, 7^th August 2022, St. Clement’s, Hastings)

Jesus survived the crucifixion, married Mary Magdalene and they took early retirement in the south of France.  Sadly, they later divorced and Jesus married Lydia.

Jesus survived the crucifixion and went to live in India where he died aged 120 and is buried in Kashmir.  Tourists can visit the tomb today.

Jesus survived the crucifixion because one of Jesus’ brothers took his place on the cross.  Jesus went to Japan where he married, became a rice farmer and died aged 106.  And, if you are wondering why Jesus went to Japan, rather than say, St. Leonards-on-Sea, it is because he had studied at the foot of Mount Fuji before beginning his public ministry in Galilee.

Jesus survived the crucifixion because he was part alien.  The star of Bethlehem was a UFO in which the so-called angels had travelled to earth.  Jesus eventually ascended to the mother ship.

Jesus didn’t survive the crucifixion, he really died, and, according to the Book of Mormon, made Resurrection appearances in what is now the United States to the descendants of the Lost Tribes of Israel.

“For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

All of the above theories about Jesus may be found in books or on the internet.  They are believed by a very large number of people around the world.  They are unsupported by any evidence whatsoever and so they are not really even theories.  Rather, they are nothing more than flights of fancy or, to use a technical term, just plain bonkers.

But we need to pause here.  Because the orthodox Christian faith that we proclaim week by week in the Creed is also regarded as equally bonkers by large numbers of people in a society which has become biblically illiterate, theologically clueless and, for many, historically ignorant, unable to weigh and assess evidence.

The cleverly devised myths to which St. Peter refers are the varied and quite fantastic -in the proper sense of the word – salvation narratives taught by various false teachers who preached that we are saved by knowledge.  It is not easy to date the origins of this teaching and it really got going a long time after Jesus. But the general idea was that the material world was evil, created by a lesser god and that our souls, part of the Divine Light, had become trapped in human flesh.  The superior God of Light then sent Jesus – who was never truly human but who just looked like one – and who taught secret knowledge, mainly passwords, to his disciples.  They could then escape from the flesh and ascend to the God of Light via different heavenly levels protected by angels but which could be crossed with the correct password.  As I say, these narratives are truly fantastic and make the New Testament story of salvation read like a sober narrative.  The Church had to battle hard against these cleverly devised myths, these purely human speculations, which gave rise to their own versions of the Bible.  Today we too have to battle hard against purely human speculation, surprisingly popular, that Jesus retired to France or India or Japan or returned to another galaxy via the United States.

I have remarked before on the general sobriety of the New Testament, despite its miracles.  Most strikingly, the New Testament provides no account of the moment of Resurrection, unlike some of the later writings written to support false teaching in which the Resurrection itself is described replete with trumpets and flashing lights.  Just reflect on that: The New Testament does not describe the actual moment of Resurrection but instead offers us witnesses to the Resurrection appearances.

And as good Anglicans, we are not, of course, biblical literalists.  We recognize the human element in Scripture and do our best to discern the historical from the symbolic and recognise the many different literary forms to be found in the Bible.  To do otherwise, as some Christians do in accepting every word of the Bible literally, is to adopt an Islamic approach to Scripture.

The Bible is the Word of God “second class” and which witnesses to the Word of God “first-class”, Jesus Christ.  We are offered witnesses not proof.  Our earliest witness is St. Paul writing just a few years after the time of Jesus and within living memory of him.  Other witnesses were still alive.  Contrast that with the earliest Islamic biography of Muhammed written well over a hundred years after his death and which does not survive in its original form.

From this morning’s epistle in reference to the Transfiguration:

“We had been eyewitnesses of his majesty…while we were with him on the holy mountain.” (2 Peter 1.17-18)

Witness not proof. Not proof but a solid foundation, grounded in history, for that leap of faith we call Christianity.  It does not arise from human speculation and cleverly devised myths but from our reasoned response – our leap of faith or not – to the witness of the New Testament that God has acted in human history at a particular moment and in a particular place and through the person of Jesus of Nazareth.  Dismissing it without real thought and consigning it to the realm of the impossible and fantastical is a failure to engage historically and philosophically. Christianity is a reasonable faith that has appealed to most of the greatest minds in history.  I, for one, am fed up with the portrayal of Christians as intellectually feeble minded, emotionally deficient and psychologically crippled.  That will not wash, not least because the charge so often comes from those with little grounding, if any, in theology, philosophy and historical criticism.

So today we celebrate the Transfiguration, that anticipation of Jesus’ post-resurrection glory with everything that implies for us. 

“For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty.” (2 Peter 1.16)

Jesus Christ was not an alien on day release from another galaxy but is the Lord of Life, transfigured, risen, ascended, glorified.

© Paul Hunt 2022

“How awesome is this place!  This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of Heaven.” (Genesis 28. 17)

(Old Town Week Service, 31^st July 2022, St Clement’s)

What are your first memories or impressions of the Old Town?  I ask the question whether you are someone who was born here, a long-term resident, a visitor or, dare I say it, a DFL, OFB or just plain Filth?  “Failed in London Try Hastings”.

I reckon that my earliest memory circa 1963 or 1964 is of a visit to the Piece of Cheese just off All Saints Street.  I was, of course only a small boy in shorts and the rooms seemed larger than they actually are.

In the late 1970s I remember teaching English to Italian students in the old classrooms beneath St Mary Star of the Sea.

In the 1980s I was the winning election agent in four local elections in what was then the new Old Hastings Ward, previously called All Saints and St. Clement’s.  One of the councillors, Bert Jobson, or “Jobby” as he was known, was a preacher at what was then the Bourne Methodist Church.  Another was Fred Mitchell from an Old Town Fishing family.  Does anyone recall them I wonder?

In the early 1990s when I had just been ordained, it was the Old Town Rector, Charles Richardson, who took me behind the scenes at the Crematorium and it was in St Clement’s that I performed one of my first baptisms.

Memories.  Places.  People.

Now I’m not an Old Towner – I suppose that I’m a DFL – but that doesn’t mean that I do not grasp or do not understand why it is such a special place for so many of us, indeed for all of us gathered here today.  It has been a privilege to have been the priest-in-charge in my retirement years.

So I would like us to reflect briefly about the importance of memory and place and people.  We will all have our own memories and there will be particular parts of the Old Town that hold a special significance for us.  We will have memories of people – friends, Old Town characters, loved ones whom we can picture out and about in the Old Town, perhaps walking down High Street or sitting on a favourite bench.  And, just occasionally, we can get that fleeting sense of the past coming into the present, evoked perhaps by a sound or a smell.  In the words of that regular DFL Dante Gabriel Rossetti:

“I have been here before……

 I know the grass beyond the door,

 The sweet keen smell,

 The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.”

That sense of place with its associated memories is important. We need to remember this if we are to grasp the full impact of the rejection of Jesus by his home town of Nazareth where he had grown up.  Seeing his rejection as just something that happened, something that came with his vocation, fails to do justice to the significance of memory, people and place be that a fisherman’s net hut or a carpenter’s shop.

From my short time here I know that our two medieval churches hold a particular significance in the Old Town.  Old Towners will talk of All Saints or St Clement’s as the place where they were baptised or were married, the place where their own parents and grandparents were baptised and married and commended to God at their funeral. There is communal memory too – our churches record and commemorate so much of the Old Town’s history be it the names of those who have died in war, military and civilian, or the names of local worthies.  One such worthy is John Collier who died in 1760.  He was not born here but became a very important local figure.  His memorial tablet states that “He thought the duty of religion indespensible and therefore constantly attended divine service”. Another is Edward Milward who died in 1853.  His memorial tablet commends his “most generous and disinterested acts of friendship and benevolence.”  I like looking at the lists of past rectors There is the appropriately named Samuel Creede, Rector of St Clement’s from 1832 to 1855.  Or the first priest recorded at All Saints in 1290, known simply as Ralph.   And we have communal memory elsewhere be it the site of the Swan Inn or the Priscilla Macbean and the Cyril and Lilian Bishop.

The Old Town is where so many of us feel rooted.  Andrea and Lee, whose banns I read, now live in the wilds of Blacklands parish but they were telling me last Tuesday that the Old Town is still their centre of gravity with its memories and people.  It remains their true home.

But there is a temptation to be avoided in all this.  We must never allow services such as this or individual hearts and minds to succumb to the temptation of the Old Town worshipping itself.

It can happen very easily and I sometimes get the sense that it has already happened further east in the People’s Republic of Rye.  I find Rye, lovely as it is, to be so self-consciously precious.  I can give you a categorical assurance that it gives me no pleasure whatsoever to point out that the Rye fishing fleet, unlike our own, refused to sail to Dunkirk.  My authority for saying this is none other than that well-named historian Max Hastings. The Cyril and Lillian Bishop lifeboat, mentioned earlier as part of our communal memory, was used to ferry men from the beaches to the transports. I will not ask Sally-Ann to judge between the two cinque ports.  Or perhaps I will later.

Yes, we should cherish and be proud of the Old Town with its places, people and memories but we should not deceive ourselves that it is the heavenly Jerusalem without spot or blemish.  There is poverty behind some of the front doors and we see the rough sleepers and the mentally ill and the drug addicts.  Memories can sometimes be disturbing and loneliness can affect us all.

“How awesome is this place!  This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of Heaven.”

In our first reading today we heard the story of Jacob’s ladder in which Jacob laid down to rest in a place named Luz and dreamed that there was a ladder set up from earth to Heaven.  In his sleep Jacob encountered the presence of God and, waking up, he exclaimed:

“Surely the Lord is in this place – and I did not know it!….. How awesome is this place!  This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven!” (Genesis 28.16-17)

And so Jacob renamed Luz and called it Bethel, the Hebrew for “House of God”. 

Since about 1080 St Clement’s in its different architectural forms has been the House of God between the West and East Hills and All Saints has stood likewise since possibly Saxon times.

They have towers not spires but they still point to the heavens and act as a ladder between earth and the heavenly Jerusalem depicted in the wonderful medieval Doom painting in All Saints.

As we enter into Old Town Week, let us enjoy and celebrate and give thanks for this extraordinary place with its peoples and memories.  But let us not lose sight of Jacob’s ladder at Bethel, of All Saints and St Clement’s, of St. Mary Star of the Sea and of that ladder which leads to that heavenly Jerusalem whose builder and maker is God.

© Paul Hunt 2022

“Then they also will answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you
hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and
did not minister to you?’ (Matthew 25.44)

(Magdalen and Lasher Annual Thanksgiving Service, St Clement’s, 24^th July, 2022)

Some well-known phrases about charity:

“Charity begins at home.”

“Charity degrades those who receive it and hardens those who dispense it.”

“As cold as charity.”

“Charity is the opium of the privileged.”

In my sermon last year I mentioned a pupil from my time at Bexhill High School in the first half of the 1980s.  And I’m going to take a trip down memory lane to the High School again this afternoon.

The school was extremely good at raising large sums for charity.  Each year group chose a charity and monies were raised by all sorts of means, not least taking the entire year group on a sponsored walk along the Bexhill seafront.  But one year the Headmaster announced that there would not be a charity drive because the school needed to focus on fund raising for computers, something of a novelty in schools in those days.

Just think about that decision for a moment.  The school as an institution was effectively saying to its 1,500 pupils that raising money for charity is a very good thing to do – unless we need to put ourselves first.  Raising money for school computers might be a very good cause but it is not a charitable activity when the motive is so self-centred.  The decision was not sacrificial.  Charity that begins at home is unlikely to be true charity.

So I would like us to reflect briefly about our charitable motives.  Why do we give of our money and time and skills?

It is perhaps less straightforward than it might seem.  For example, I like to give to Cancer Research and once raised a significant sum of money for them when running the Hastings Half-Marathon.  But do I not have a degree of self-interest because I may benefit from the charity’s work at a future date?

And what about many medieval charities which arose from wills leaving money for a charitable purpose in exchange for prayers for the soul of the donor?  We cannot look into the hearts of Petronella de Cham or Thomas Lasher or William Parker or James Saunders– and it’s actually a bit presumptuous on my part to guess what we might actually see if we could– but to what extent, if any of course, were their benefactions made with one eye on Judgement Day?

Motive.  For several years I used to take Sixth Formers to India each summer to work in a school.  It became an extremely popular rite of passage and there were usually about fifty applications for twenty places.  My initial sorting mechanism was to discard any applications that stated that the Sixth Former wanted to do it because it would be good for their university application form. Indeed it would be.  But that primary motive changed the nature of a charitable exercise in fundraising and the giving of time and skill from something that was intrinsically good in itself to something that was focused on personal advantage.

So let us reflect briefly upon the separation of people on the Day of Judgement, like the separation of sheep and goats.  The point of the parable is that we would all be keen enough to be charitable towards Jesus Christ if we encountered him directly.  But what would be our primary motive?  Genuine piety and an expression of faith? Compassion? Christian service?  An eye on Judgement Day?  In reality our charitable motives are complex, they are unconscious as well as conscious, and are most likely to be mixed.  The motives of those who acted charitably towards strangers are different from those who didn’t respond to their needs – but who would have done had the stranger been Jesus Christ. 

Washing the feet of Jesus is one thing; washing the feet of a stranger is something else.

The origin of the modern word charity is fairly complicated but, in essence, it is directly linked to Christian faith and the need to show love and compassion for others. 

There should be nothing cold about it and it cannot begin at home if it is to be truly selfless.  Dispensed without the charity of the heart, it can indeed harden those who give it and degrade those who receive it.  It is the opium of the privileged who can relax in their own self-justification of a generosity that isn’t really generosity because it makes no material difference to their existence.

Today we give thanks for the generosity of Petronella de Cham, Thomas Lasher, William Parker, James Saunders and others down the centuries.  It is tempting to consider their motives but let us reflect that, in trying to analyse their motives, we shall be holding up a mirror to our own.

“Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.”

© Paul Hunt 2022

A Sermon by Mrs Sandra Bentall, Authorised Lay Minister

“Lord, teach us to pray”

(Luke 11. 1-13)
SIMMER THE BROTH FOR THREE LORD’S PRAYERS
I’d like us to think about making lunch today! Do you know what this is? ???
Yes, it’s a Cook Book. That means it’s a list of recipes. So, if I want to make something for lunch I can look in here and
it will tell me how. This book is full of recipes, lists of ingredients and directions on how to put them together to
make a lunch dish. I don’t always have to do exactly what the list says; sometimes I can make substitutes or switch
ingredients, but this will help me with guidelines if I’m not sure how to make something.
Did you know that God has given us a ‘recipe’ book? Have you got one of those? What do you think that is? . . .??
This is our recipe for life! The Bible gives us some amazing directions for living. Did you know that it also gives us
instructions for prayer?
How do YOU pray? Do you have familiar words or phrases you like to pray? Do you just talk to God? But sometimes
we have a hard time coming up with the right words when we want to pray.
The good news is that the Bible helps us! There are some great prayers we can find in the Old Testament – in the
book of Psalms there are some awesome praises and some struggles to pray through. Jesus also gave us a great
blueprint “recipe” for prayer.
We heard in this morning’s gospel of Luke, that Jesus had been praying and then one of his disciples said to him –
“Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples” (That was John the Baptist)
‘Lord, teach us to pray’ seems a really odd request. After all, Jesus’s disciples were Jews, not new to prayer, being
steeped in ritual Jewish prayer from birth, knowing countless prayers by heart, praying at least 3 times a day – when
they rise, when they eat and when they lie down. Nevertheless, they still want to know: “Lord, teach us to pray”.
We are told often in the gospels that Jesus withdrew and prayed. They would have been aware that Jesus did not
use set prayers all the time, that he conversed with God, and talked with him when he was facing a difficult
situation. Did the disciples think they weren’t doing it right, perhaps because so many of their prayers didn’t
produce the wanted results? Did they overlook, like we sometimes do, that God knows and responds to our needs,
not our wants. Praying a shopping list of wants won’t get us through the till!
What about us? We might have hang-ups about praying publicly? Do we think we aren’t good enough to pray, that
we haven’t got the right ‘stained-glass’ words, that only the professional, the vicar, can pray properly? Do we forget
that praying is also listening, that we should wait for God in the silence of our hearts and stop chattering? After all,
we have 2 ears and only 1 mouth, so we should be listening twice as much as speaking.
Jesus willingly answered his disciples with what we call “The Lord’s Prayer” and it’s really useful to help US how to
pray. The words Jesus spoke to them were a model as it were, an example of what their prayers might be like, not
complicated, not fancy. We don’t have to say the exact words but we can use it as a guide to help us pray. Then he
told them a parable and exhortation, with what attitude prayer should be made – without distractions – and finally
about the faithfulness that God has to us, when we pray.
It’s a prayer for believers who belong to the family of God, and yes, we do find comfort in reciting it off by heart
perhaps in stressful situations when we can’t think straight. But we should not lose sight that Jesus was giving us a
recipe of what our prayers might include. Sometimes in church it sounds somewhat rushed – to get through it
quickly – but when we are on our own, try praying it slowly, and thinking about each part, and what Jesus was
conveying to his disciples, and us as his disciples too.
When you look at the reading from Luke this morning, you might wonder – “where’s the rest of the Lord’s Prayer
that I know?” You’re probably aware that Matthew also wrote of Jesus’ teaching about prayer, and indeed he
added more things into Jesus’s pattern for prayer.
So what was Jesus’ recipe for prayer?
Jesus began with a personal address to God and adoration. In Luke he began “Father”, he used the word “Abba”, a
very familial word showing closeness with his father and at the same time obedience. Jesus told his disciples to use
the same word, and in Matthew’s gospel it begins “Our Father” – not ‘My Father’ as Jesus wants us to know that
God is our father as well as his, who will love us and look after us as a father to his children, and we should obey
him. God is deserving of the highest honour, so we honour His name. Before anything is asked for ourselves, God
and his glory and the reverence due to him, come first.
Whilst we are encouraged to talk to God and take our concerns to him in prayer – in between listening – we should
not lose sight of the Holiness of God.
God’s kingdom. God reigns in our hearts and lives, so his Kingdom is in the here and now. When Christ came, God’s
kingdom came to earth and God’s kingdom is present in everyone who believes in Christ. Later on in Luke in chapter
17 (v21) Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, and he answered them “the
kingdom of God is among you”. The kingdom of God is not like an earthly kingdom with geographical boundaries.
Instead, it begins with the work of God’s Spirit in people’s lives and relationships. But in another way, the Kingdom
of God is not fully come as Satan still rules in this world. So we need to pray that God will come into the lives of
more people, and so into the kingdom of God. We need to pray that God’s kingdom will fully come, that Christ will
come again quickly and destroy Satan.
Our daily bread. We can depend on God to help us with all our needs. Bread here is not only the loaves baked
every day, just enough that would be needed as sustenance for the day, but “our daily bread“ is said to encompass
symbolically all things we need for our bodies for the day – our food, clothing, housing, health. Not luxuries or
conveniences! No, we could not live one day without God’s sustaining power.
Jesus’ prayer guide then covers past sin. When Jesus taught his disciples, he made forgiveness the cornerstone of
their relationship with God. In our daily lives, when we say we are sorry for doing or saying something wrong, or not
doing something we should have done, God forgives us our sin. In turn, we must remember to forgive those who are
indebted to us, who have wronged us, however difficult we find that to be. Yes, it’s easy to ask God for forgiveness
but difficult to forgive others who have hurt us. So we need to ask ourselves “Have I forgiven the people who have
hurt me?”
Lastly in Luke Jesus taught us to pray about future trials. “Do not bring us to the time of trial” and the translation in
our service books is “Lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil”. In the Book of Common Prayer it’s
“trespasses” which does not just mean going on to someone else’s property without permission! I do find this
language confusing as God surely does not bring us or lead us into such situations, but rather the opposite. However
maybe God allows us to be tested by them, and as disciples we should pray to be delivered from such trying times
and for deliverance from Satan’s influence. Most Christians struggle with being tempted. It can be so subtle that
we don’t even realise what is happening to us. But in 1 Corinthians (10:13) God has promised that he won’t allow us
to be tempted beyond our endurance. So we ask God to help us recognise a challenge to, and a test of, a person’s
integrity and fidelity, and to give us strength to overcome it and choose God’s way.
Jesus went on to illustrate in a parable that persistence in prayer overcomes our insensitivity, not God’s. We must
keep on praying, keep on asking, keep on seeking, keep on knocking on heaven’s door. Jesus’ parable says that if an
unwilling neighbour can in the end be coerced by a friend’s persistence into giving him what he needs for his guest,
how much more will God, who is a loving Father, supply his children’s needs. So we have to come before God and
persist in our prayers, persist in speaking to God each day.
The framework for prayer was given to us by the Lord himself, to be OUR OWN “Our Father Prayer” for all his
disciples. Nothing else will quite do except that our hearts and our minds be turned to God without distraction,
as a child would persist in turning to its parents in trust and in confidence that it will be heard and helped and
encouraged and loved.
Oh yes – what did I mean about “Simmer the broth for three Lord’s Prayers”? I read that before clocks became
commonplace, the Lord’s Prayer was often used by cooks to time their recipes. For example, a step in the recipe
could be “simmer the broth for three slow Lord’s Prayers”.
Enjoy your lunch!
Amen
Sandra Bentall
Authorised Lay Minister by the Diocese of Chichester for the Old Town Parish of St Clement & All Saints.

“A woman named Martha welcomed him into her home.” (Luke 10.38)

(Sunday after Trinity, 17^th July 2022, St Clement’s, Hastings)

Martha and Mary.  Today’s story is well known.  Captured by great artists such as Tintoretto, Valazquez, Brueghel and Veermer, we picture the busy Martha, distracted by her many tasks and her sister Mary who sat at Jesus’ feet and listened to the Lord.

The two sisters are contrasted and, says Jesus, it is Mary who chose the better use of her time.  It is Mary who receives approval from Jesus and it is Martha who receives the gentle rebuke.

I sense danger in this story.  We must not allow it to set up a false dualism, a false pair of opposites between work and spirituality.  I am reminded of the words of a Greek Orthodox priest commenting upon his extremely dusty and rather dirty and untidy church.  “We are too busy praying,” he said.  We might also think of the great ascetics of the church for whom cleanliness was a matter of vanity and for whom work was a distraction from the spiritual life just as Jesus said it had been for Martha.

So I would like us to think a little bit about the theology of work, paid or unpaid, in church and out of church, this morning.

It is sometimes said that Genesis chapter three teaches us that work is a punishment for Adam and Eve’s sin.  “By the sweat of your brow you shall eat bread.” (Gen.3.19)  But this is the world of work distorted by human sin, something we can see today in sinful employment practices around the world.  Sinful employment exploits and de-humanises and mechanises the human spirit. The Bible is clear that honest toil is part of the natural order of things which takes its cue from God’s work in creation and His resting on the seventh day.

So we should be clear in our minds that there is nothing wrong with the concept of work.  Martha was not doing anything wrong.  Jesus’ gentle rebuke is about her misguided priority at that particular time.

We can say more.  Work, properly understood, may be seen as an important element in our spiritual life.  Did we not sing just two Sundays ago?

Teach me, my God and King,

In all things thee to see;

And what I do in anything

To do it as for thee.

A servant with this clause

Makes drudgery divine;

Who sweeps a room, as for thy laws,

Makes that and the action fine.

The spiritual nature of work was advocated by that very great fourth century theologian, Basil the Great.  Arguing against ascetics who disdained work as a distraction from spirituality, Basil wrote:

“We must not treat treat the ideal of piety as an excuse for idleness or as an escape from hard work but rather as an opportunity for spiritual combat.”

And again: “Now since some avoid work with the excuse of prayer and psalmody, one should know that that for each separate task there is a special time, as Ecclesiastes says.”

Martha’s error is in her timing, not in her work.

And further, writes Basil, work is an opportunity to help the weak and needy and to serve the wider community.

Now St Basil was extremely influential in later monastic movements, particular that of the Benedictines.  St Benedict quoted Basil’s words that “idleness is the enemy of the soul”.  Ora et labora, pray and work, is the Benedictine motto.  It is fair to say, and I’ve checked this with Brother Aelred, that work is an essential aspect of spirituality in both the Benedictine and Cistercian tradition.

Work should not be separated from our spirituality because it can otherwise so easily become a form of idolatry.  We all know people for whom work defines who they are, who live for work, who become consumed by ambition or the need for material wealth or status.  That is work divorced from prayer and the life of the Spirit.

And the same is true for those who hate their work and for whom it is simply a means to a material end.  That is a very understandable response to work when it is unfulfilling and devoid of human creativity and initiative.  Such work is indeed what Basil refers to as an occasion for spiritual combat.  Making drudgery divine is not for the faint-hearted.  Washing up after post-service tea and coffee might be seen as drudgery by some but as necessary work in the building of Christian fellowship and hospitality by others.

Today’s story of Martha and Mary calls us to reflect upon our attempts at spirituality and the place of work within it.  It is Mary who is held up as an example for us to follow but only because she recognised that it was a time to listen rather than to be busy.

So, yes, it’s three cheers for Mary but let us have at least one for Martha and, in so doing,  cheer for ourselves.

Thee may I set at my right hand,

Whose eyes my inmost substance see,

And labour on at thy command,

And offer all my works to thee.

© Paul Hunt 2022

A Sermon by Keith Leech, Authorised Lay Minister

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts always be acceptable in your sight. Oh Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind; and, ‘Love your neighbour as yourself’.

In Luke today this is the answer given to a question Jesus asks of an expert of the law (some translations say a lawyer but it was certainly a member of the priestly class) when discussing how the person may inherit eternal life. Jesus affirms this is the correct answer and goes on to tell the parable of the Good Samaritan,

Jesus also says Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind; and, ‘Love your neighbour as yourself in both Mark and Matthew and takes it further by saying ‘on these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.’

These were not new ideas they underpinned the law at the time and would be well known.  Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind is found in Deuteronomy. Love thy neighbour as yourself comes from Leviticus .

The story of the Good Samaritan is a parable about loving your neighbour. Most of us know it well; a man has been beaten up by robbers. A priest walks by; priests those who are meant to uphold the law and that includes (from Leviticus) loving your neighbour as yourself.  A Levite also passed by. Levites are descendants of Levi, one of the twelve tribes of Israel. They had specific temple duties reserved for them including singing and being temple guards. Again they were amongst those who should know and uphold the law. The person who helped and offered to pay the innkeeper was neither of these bastions of society they were a Samaritan. Samaritans lived in the area between Judea and Galilee. They were not considered to be ethnically pure Israelites and therefore not able to carry out any religious duties. So here Jesus is deliberately choosing a group who are excluded from the main areas of temple worship as the ones who did uphold the law. He illustrates that it is not your status that is important (even if it’s in the temple itself), but what you actually do.

Loving your neighbour as yourself is an ancient idea found across most cultures and faiths and is sometimes known as the ‘Golden Rule’. The rule that governs all human society. It is often pointed to by atheists who say the Golden Rule is built into our DNA, it is instinctive and we don’t need a Bible or Jesus to tell us that. It is simply a survival mechanism for the species.  Christians often call it the Great Commandment. Yet there is a difference between the Golden Rule and the Great Commandment.

The Golden Rule is often quoted as ‘do as you would be done by’  The first century Jewish rabbi Hillel summarised it as ‘What is hateful and distasteful to you, do not do you to your fellow man’ .  It certainly underpins all three Abrahamic faiths.  Even modern so called pagans say ‘Do what you will but don’t hurt anybody’.

 So how does the Great Commandment differ from the Golden Rule?   Jesus said ‘Love they neighbour as yourself’ . It turns the rabbinical and general teaching of do not do anything that causes hurt or harm to a command to positively love your neighbour. A subtle difference, turning a piece of advice to a commandment… and one that is difficult.

Your neighbour is the whole person, physical and spiritual. Christ came to Earth in human form, the incarnation shows us the importance of the human form; a body that Christ allowed to be crucified for us. That is how great the commandment ‘Love thy Neighbour’ is… to actually give things up, yes even your life, for others as Christ did for us.  Christ loved us so much that he was prepared to die for us.

How far are you prepared to go for a complete stranger? (Not that any of us are strangers to Christ), but if we are commanded to love one another this may be (according to scripture) what we will have to do.

So how do we follow this commandment? The world is a complex place and human society complex within that. There is sufficient food to feed everybody on the planet seven times over,  there are sufficient vaccines to vaccinate everybody on the planet. There is sufficient housing to house everybody. Yet we see starvation, we see people dying unnecessarily from diseases that they could be vaccinated against, we see homelessness on our streets. What is your part in allowing this to happen?

If all people are made in the image of God, and are our neighbour I ask what is your attitude to those poor souls who are picked up by Hastings lifeboat virtually every day from small boats? 

We allow an inequality to exist where we can have things and others cannot and what is more we see food and vaccines thrown away and homes left unoccupied or used as second homes.  Do we not feel at least a little guilty that we allow this to happen?  One can say I do give to the poor, I do give to Oxfam or Shelter. I ask does this really truly love your neighbour as yourself?  How much more could you or should you give?… I put my hand up I am guilty as charged. . Article 38 of Cranmer’s 39 articles of religion tells us we should give liberally to the poor as according to our ability.  Yet even if I were to give everything I have it would be a drop in the ocean and not solve the problem.

Part of the issue lies I feel with a wider society that does not embrace Christian values fully, but only pays lip service to them, if at all. I have said on many an occasion the reason I am passionate about mission is because I genuinely believe that if everybody truly followed Christ we would not see most of the problems we see in modern society. How many of the problems we encounter in society such as not sharing food, vaccines or housing are actually part of a collective rather than an individual responsibility?

I feel that we should be doing more by coming together as Christians around the world to drive change.  A change in social morality towards a society where we do truly love each other as ourselves, where nobody is starving or homeless or unvaccinated and when there is no reason why that should be the case. This is after all only following Jesus’s  Great Commandment.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind; and, ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.

Amen

“Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’” (John 20.27)

(St Thomas the Apostle, 3^rd July, 2022, St Clement’s, Hastings)

Send down the Holy Spirit on your servant N

for the office and work of deacon in your Church.

Send down the Holy Spirit on your servant N

for the office and work of a priest in your Church.

These words will be said this morning and over the next few days to hundreds of ordinands up and down the country when the bishop lays hands upon them.

As it happens, it is thirty years ago this Petertide since I was ordained deacon in Chichester Cathedral by a much-missed Father-in- God, Bishop Eric Kemp.  Ordination is a truly awesome occasion and I can remember walking round and round the playing fields close to what was then Chichester Theological College on the morning of the service.  I remember the swearing of oaths in the Bishop’s Chapel just before the service. The Cathedral bells were pealing outside and we could hear the excited chatter of those entering the cathedral.  And, of course, I remember the moment of ordination itself.  Inevitably, I cannot but reflect on the changing scenes of ministerial life: Chaplain at Brighton College (which was my title parish), Chaplain at Mill Hill School, Vicar of St. Andrew’s Southgate, and Chaplain at Emanuel School.  I have served several honorary curacies and at the Chapels Royal and held honorary chaplaincies at a city livery company and the Royal British Legion.  I have been much blessed in so many varied ministerial settings, not least in my surprise stint here.  My two years in September will have been a lovely and unexpected ministerial Indian summer.  Thank you.

Those who know me will realise that I don’t really do religious emotion – it’s so very unC of E – but perhaps the most deeply moving occasion in these thirty years was celebrating the eucharist in the chapel of Abraham in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem. The altar stands directly above what is almost certainly the site of the crucifixion.  I recall tears in my eyes and struggling to get through the eucharistic prayer.

“Yet dare I’almost be glad, I do not see

  That spectacle of too much weight for me.” (Donne)

Let us return to the laying on of hands at ordination, an ancient Jewish sign of commissioning and something Jesus would have done to the twelve apostles.  Historically and theologically, we trace the line of ordination back to the twelve who in turn commissioned others through the laying on of hands, a commissioning continued this Petertide.

What then of St Thomas, doubting Thomas, one of those commissioned twelve, whom we remember today?  Thomas gets a rather bad press and might not therefore be seen as a model for newly ordained clergy and, indeed, for all Christians, because we share in the priesthood of all believers.  After all, Thomas said that he would not believe until he saw the mark of the nails in the Lord’s hands and put his finger in the mark of the nails and his hand in the Lord’s side.

In the words of the nineteenth century poet A.H. Clough who moved during his life from a fervent evangelicalism to a reverent scepticism:

Or what if e’en, as runs the tale, the Ten

Saw, heard, and touched, again and yet again?

What if at Emmaus’ inn and by Capernaum’s lake

Came One the bread that brake,

Came One that spake as never mortal spake,

And with them ate and drank and stood and walked about?

Ah! ‘some’ did well to ‘doubt’!

In a Christian life-time I’ve never been able to share the faith of those who say that they never doubt. That they are always 100% certain in their faith.  Well, blessed are they.  But are they?  It seems to me that if our relationship with God is to be a true relationship then it must encompass all of our moods and emotions, highs and lows, just like any other relationship.  It was certainly like that for Job and for some of the prophets and, dare I say it, for Jesus too in Gethsemane and on the Cross.  When it comes to the Creed, I reckon that I believe all of it for some of the time, most of it for most of the time  and not much of it for a little of the time.  Perhaps it might be like that for you too if we are honest with each other.

One of the few positive aspects of modern liturgy is the recognition that believing is a communal activity.  That is why we say “We believe” at the beginning of the Creed rather than “I believe” as in the Book of Common Prayer.  “We believe” is the original form. The Creeds are our corporate memory, not our individual judgement.  We journey together in the wider faith of the whole Church, the quick and the dead, hopefully encouraging one another along the way when faith might flicker in the winds of secularism and fashionable atheism.

In the words of the hymn, “Pilgrim clasps the hand of pilgrim”.

“One the strain that lips of thousands

  Lift as from the heart of one;

  One the conflict, one the peril,

  One the march in God begun.”

St Thomas clasps our hand too.

Jesus said to Thomas “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.”  Unlike us, Thomas was privileged to see the Lord but he did not touch those wounds as the final proof of faith.  Thomas believes without attempting his own self-imposed test of touching.

“I believe; help my unbelief,” said the father of the epileptic boy to Jesus. (Mark 9.24)

Faith and doubt are intertwined and the boundary between them ebbs and flows.  That was certainly the case for St Thomas who remains the inspiration and founding evangelist for hundreds of thousands of Christians in South India today. 

So on this ordination Sunday, let us gather together our honest doubt and our honest faith and exclaim together with Doubting and Faithful Thomas, “My Lord and my God!”

© Paul Hunt 2022.

St Clement 26^th June 2022         Galatian 5:22   The Fruit of the Spirit

By Dr Pat Lock

My computer is driving me up the wall. Last weekend when we returned from holiday it decided not to let me in.  So despite numerous passwords and waiting nothing much happened. Eventually it came up with a message “ We are currently checking if you are human, please wait a minute”.  Despite waiting, every time I pressed a key, a similar message kept appearing. Eventually it came up with “Are you a robot?”.  I was very tempted to put yes just to see what happened next. However, next question was “Are you human?”.   At this point any fruit of the spirit that I may have had was linked to self-control and patience – both  of course in a negative way.  But if a technical machine like a laptop could tip me over the edge what chance was there when dealing with people?

The Fruit of the Spirit is something that I have always done in assembly as it can be so visual, and the children all knew the song that helped them to remember – even now I run through the song in my head to reel them off in order.   I never forget the day when a 5 year old stopped me in the corridor and reeled off all nine – and then added  “ but you don’t do patience do you”.  Are you growing it?

The Fruit of the Spirit should not be confused with the Gifts of the Spirit that are listed in Corinthians. The gifts are given by God to equip us for mission and we are unlikely to have them all.   The Fruit is something we all have.  Fruit is a sign of the Christian life and the Spirit within us and we would all be at various stages in growing it.

St Paul emphasises the Fruit and not the fruits with an “s”.  The Fruit is one.  Imagine it as segments of an orange or fruit salad mixed up in one bowl.  Fruit takes time to mature and this could be a lifelong process. Fruit trees in the garden can take years to grow and produce fruit – they have to be watered, pruned and cared for. And as an apple tree produces only apples so the fruit of the spirit produces symbols of the spirit – love, joy, peace etc.   There is only one type of fruit on the spiritual tree but it is made up of different characteristics.  But if you look at them, you will see they intertwine – they cannot stand alone. For example gentleness and self-control go with patience; kindness and goodness flow from love and peace.

You cannot pick and choose which part of the fruit you have at any point in time for we are given all of the fruit freely.

 The expectation is that all Christians who claim the spirit within them will grow them all. We are not alone in this journey as the spirit will lead us to all truth,  but we need to want to be changed – for that is what will happen.  We too, can consciously recognise a lapse in  ourselves and work on that one aspect and give time for maturity. Fruit does not appear overnight!

It is all very simple but also very complicated. Those who are in Christ are distinguished from unbelievers in that they have been gifted with the Holy Spirit, enabling them to bear fruit. Its as if the roots of the tree are the Gifts of the Spirit and the branches bear the Fruit of the Spirit.  I could go through each of the elements individually but they are self explanatory – and that would be more boring than what I am saying now.  The whole thing to me is wondrous – that if you are willing, the Spirit will help you with the growth of any and/or all of these characteristics. As you yield your life to God and seek Him in prayer and praise and worship and Bible study, The Holy Spirit teaches you, leads you and guides you. The Holy Spirit transforms you from glory to glory. It is the presence of God residing in you that changes you: godly fruit develops as you are in the presence of God. . And the fruit he wants is the fruit of Christian character.

The fruit emanates or proceeds from the Holy Spirit and reveals what the Holy Spirit is like. These are the Holy Spirit’s character traits. And because the Holy Spirit is a Person of the Most Holy Trinity, and because the three Persons are one, the fruit reveals something of what God is like. The grace and power of the Holy Spirit gives increase to these fruits. If we cooperate with this grace, and with growth in holiness, these fruits expand and intensify.  We have a view of God himself. And what a marvellous view it is.

And St Paul adds “Against such things there is no law.”  When the life of the believer expresses these qualities, there is no need for the law. Those who “live by the Spirit” (Gal 5:16) produce fruit reflecting the character of God that the law could not. There is no law – God does not make a law against the nine-fold fruit of the Spirit for these are the very virtues that God desires believers to supernaturally manifest in a Christ-like walk. The Fruit is above the law and greater than the law ever can be, for it is the work of God himself.

In verse 13 of the Galatians reading we read “ You were called to be free – serve one another in love.  The entire law is summed up in a single commandment “Love your neighbour as yourself”.  Easier said than done.  The fact is we live in a community with other people.  We may not share their political view, even their social views, but we are still expected to portray the highest standards that God has given us.  And there are times when it falls apart. Why?  Because, yes computer, I am human and not a robot and I therefore have feelings that can be hurt or can cry out in anger.  You see it in  children.  I can remember the day that I threw my brother’s rabbit out of the bedroom window into the path of an oncoming car  that dutifully squashed it flat ( it was only a soft toy, not a real rabbit).  But my feelings changed rapidly when my father found out.

And so it is with God.  He wants to bring us back to the Fruit – patience, gentleness, self-control.   So often it is because we want things done our way but in the process someone else is drawn in and hurt.  That is not resolved until resolution has been reached with both parties and it should not happen again. You cannot just walk back in as if nothing has happened. But I do think there is a place for righteous anger (such as Jesus overturning the tables in the temple) but who am I to judge?   Some segments of the fruit are easier than others and we all have our strengths and weaknesses.

Go home and look up the Fruit of the Spirit carefully and prayerfully and see where your strengths and weaknesses lie.  Ask other people who know you well – do they see you as you see yourself? Then find a way to move forward – to work on those harder attributes  that you reflect  being a Christian so that others can see, to the glory of God.

We are given the Fruit as it is a reflection of the Spirit within us, all we have to do is nurture it to maturity.  But we do have a lifetime and beyond.  God promises that He will complete the work he has begun.

St Paul says “ You were called to be free – live by the Spirit”

“And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind.“  (Acts 2.2)

(Whit Sunday, 5^th June 2022, St. Clement’s, Hastings)

I begin with a Roman Catholic joke told to me by a Roman Catholic friend.  The context is that of the Second Vatican Council which began in 1962.  This was the Council that modernised the Roman Catholic Church by, for example, having services in everyday languages instead of Latin.  The reforms were driven by Pope John XXIII and they were highly unpopular with many Roman Catholics.  The joke runs as follows.

Pope John XXIII dies and goes to the pearly gates where he meets St. Peter holding the key.  “Hello,” says St. Peter.  “Who are you?”.  “I’m Pope John XXIII,” comes the reply.  “Supreme Pontiff, Vicar of Christ, Bishop of Rome, your successor.”  “Well, you’re not on my list,” says St. Peter, “I had better check with the Holy Spirit.”

So off he goes to see the Holy Spirit.  St. Peter knocks on the door and is allowed entry.  “I’ve got this man at the gate who’s not on my list,” says St Peter, “but he claims to be Pope John XXIII.”   “Oh, dear,” says, the Holy Spirit, getting into a real flap with his wings.  “This is all so embarrassing.  You see, he invited me to a conference at the Vatican in 1962.   But I never went.”

I have yet to break this news to Fr. Eamonn at St. Mary Star of the Sea.

The point is, of course, that we tend to assume, don’t we, that when we invoke the Holy Spirit, the Holy Spirit will come.  Yet we cannot control the Holy Spirit even though we like to think that we do. “The wind blows where it wills,” said Jesus, “and you hear the sound of it but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.”

The Greek word for ‘wind’ here (pneuma) also translates as ‘spirit’.  The Spirit does indeed blow where it wills.  And that wind is not necessarily gentle despite our attempts to domesticate the Holy Spirit.  The Orthodox Churches have a much stronger doctrine of the freedom and sovereignty of the Holy Spirit which features far more prominently in its liturgy and sacraments.  In the Church of England and other western churches, the Holy Spirit sometimes seems to be more of an added extra than intrinsically essential like the Father and the Son.  But listen carefully to the eucharistic prayer this morning and the words of consecration: “Grant that by the power of your Holy Spirit, and according to your holy will, these gifts of bread and wine may be to us the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

“And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind.”  A violent wind, not a gentle breeze.  We think of Jesus being led gently into the wilderness by the Holy Spirit and yet the Greek word usually translated as ‘led’ is actually very forceful – ekballein – to force, to drive out.  We get our word ‘ballistic’ from it.

This shouldn’t surprise because we talk about praying in the power of the Spirit and we will call upon the power of the Holy Spirit in the words of consecration. We sometimes pray at the end our service for God to “send us out in the power of your Spirit to live and work to your praise and glory.”The word ‘power’ occurs twice in our reading from Acts this morning. Those who spoke in tongues spoke of God’s deeds of power.  Jesus was attested by signs of power, says St. Peter in his address.

It’s not easy to discern that the power of the Holy Spirit, gentle breeze or violent wind, is much in evidence in the Church of England today.  The Church’s power is more like that exercised by a suburban golf club; behind the scenes, nods and winks, who you know.  And that’s quite apart from the institutional bullying of parishes and individuals.  Let’s pray hard that the Holy Spirit really does turn up to the Lambeth Conference later this summer when Anglican bishops from around the world gather in Canterbury.  Otherwise Father Eamonn may be telling a revised joke to me.

What we cannot doubt is the presence of the Holy Spirit at Her Majesty’s Coronation in Westminster Abbey on 2^nd June 1953.  We do not doubt it because we can discern its fruits in seventy years of duty and service to our nation and Commonwealth. The Queen’s Christian faith remains an example and inspiration and Her Majesty has served the Church of England with devotion in her capacity as Supreme Governor.  By the Grace of God the Holy Spirit Her Majesty has remained faithful to her calling and duty.

Here is one of the prayers said in Westminster Abbey on that rainy June day:

Strengthen her, O Lord, with the Holy Ghost the Comforter;
Confirm and stablish her with thy free and princely Spirit,
the Spirit of wisdom and government,
the Spirit of counsel and ghostly strength,
the Spirit of knowledge and true godliness,
and fill her, O Lord, with the Spirit of thy holy fear,
now and for ever;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Do we not all say ‘Amen’ to that?

Her Majesty speaks openly about her faith and its importance in enabling her to fulfill her Accession and Coronation promises, relying upon the power and authority that comes from God.

So as we give thanks today for seventy years of the Queen’s Christian service and witness, let us also pray for our parish, for our service and our witness, and the operation of the Holy Spirit within our lives.  What we need to remember this Whit Sunday is that we can continue to progress as a church, not because we have any power or authority intrinsic to ourselves but because God can show his power, gentle breeze or violent wind, through us.  And that involves using whatever gifts we have to the very best of our ability and leaving the rest to God the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit is sovereign and blows where it wills.  We must not take the Spirit for granted, lest we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.  So may our truly fervent prayer on this Whit Sunday be that the Holy Spirit may be active in our lives of service and witness:

Come down, O Love divine,

Seek thou this soul of mine,

And visit it with thine own ardour glowing;

O Comforter, draw near,

Within my heart appear,

And kindle it, thy holy flame bestowing.”

© Paul Hunt 2022

“He and his entire family were baptised without delay.” (Acts 16.33)

(The Sunday after the Ascension, 29^th May 2022, All Saints, Hastings.)

Which is the odd one out?

Which of the following clergy is the odd one out in terms of their earlier ministries?

1. The Venerable Edward Dowler, B. the Reverend Paul Hunt, C. the Reverend David Hill and D. the Rt. Reverend Dr. Martin Warner, Lord Bishop of Chichester?

Which of the following books of the Bible is the odd one out?

1. Mark B Daniel C Luke D. James

Which of the following bishops is the odd one out?

1. George Bell Cosmo Gordon Lang C. Michael Ramsey D. Robert Runcie?

Which of the following characters in Acts 16 is the odd one out?

1. Lydia B. the Slave Girl the Gaoler  D. The households of Lydia and the Gaoler.

The answer to the fourth question is the slave-girl.  Why?  Because she is not invited to be baptised by St. Paul.

Let’s just think about that because it’s a point easily missed.  The nameless slave-girl earned a lot of money for her owners by her fortune telling.  She is possessed by a spirit of divination and for many days she cries out to Paul and Silas “These men are slaves of the Most High God who proclaim to you a way of salvation.”  And she is, of course, correct.  St. Paul describes himself as a slave of Jesus Christ in the very first verse of his letter to the Romans and, let us also note, in his later letter to the Church at Philippi.

Yet Luke tells us that St Paul was very much annoyed.  The spirit of divination is exorcised and the slave girl simply disappears from the narrative and from Christian history.  The recognition that Paul and Silas proclaim a way of salvation does not lead to proclamation of the Gospel and to baptism.

The verses immediately before today’s extract from Acts tell us that Lydia is baptised with all her household.  The frightened gaoler is likewise baptised with all his household.  But the slave girl? Why do Paul and Silas not tell her what she must do to be saved?  Unlike the gaoler, she is already part-way there in her recognition of Paul and Silas as emissaries of the Most High God.  Did not St Paul write that in Christ there is neither Greek nor Jew, male nor female, slave or freeman?  Yet the female Gentile slave is not baptised into Christ Jesus.

We do not know, fairly obviously, what was going through Paul’s mind in relation to the slave-girl other than his great annoyance.  But perhaps we have stumbled across a blind spot in St. Paul.  That his annoyance obscured his primary task to proclaim and baptise.  It is, in a sense, an unconverted part of St Paul’s character.

There is a possibly disturbing question here for us.  Are there not aspects of our own Christian character that are not yet fully converted?  Perhaps the universal appeal of the Gospel to which we all subscribe can be less than universal with people, fellow Christians included, whom we find to be different from ourselves or, dare I say it, even socially uncongenial?  Do we truly welcome everyone equally into what the Prayer Book calls “the fellowship of Christ’s religion”?

I think that Paul’s ministry in Philippi as described by St Luke in the Acts of the Apostles is challenging.  Many years ago I visited Philippi and sat by the river where Paul and Silas spoke to the women and where Lydia and all her household, family and servants, were baptised.  I sat outside the traditional site of Paul’s imprisonment and read of the conversion and baptism of the gaoler and all his household.  But I don’t recall thinking very much about the slave-girl other than to sideline her as an irritation to Paul and Silas.

The disturbing question “What about the slave-girl?” ought to make us reflect upon the unsaved aspects of our Christian character, our spiritual blind-spots and perhaps our misjudgements of fellow Christians, not least in our own congregation.  St. Paul was annoyed by the slave-girl and that seems to have affected his judgement. Because, let’s be honest, are we not sometimes annoyed by our brothers and sisters and make judgements about one another.

St Luke concludes the narrative in Philippi by writing that, after leaving the prison on their own terms, St. Paul and Silas went to Lydia’s home to encourage the brothers and sisters.

I wonder what the slave-girl was doing.

© Paul Hunt 2022

“It is not for you to know the times or seasons.” Acts 1.7

(All Saints, Hastings, Ascension Day, 26^th May 2022)

Waiting.  We spend much of our lives in waiting.  Waiting for a bus or train.  Waiting for a medical appointment.  Waiting for a delivery.  Waiting, perhaps like Mr Macawber in David Copperfield for something to turn up in an act of  unwarranted optimism.

The eleven apostles are told to wait too in response to their question of whether the time had come for the messianic age.  “It is not for you to know the times or seasons that the Father has set by his own authority,” is Jesus’ reply.

The reply sounds rather abrupt.  Surely, it is natural human curiosity to want to know when something will happen, especially something of genuine importance.  Attempts by Jehovah’s Witnesses to predict the end of the world and the start of the messianic age are understandable but do not respect those stern words of Jesus.  “It is not for you to know the times or seasons.”

Theologically and liturgically, we are in a season of waiting between the Ascension and Whit Sunday and the coming of the Holy Spirit.  For what was it that Jesus said? It is not for us to know the times or seasons but to wait for the Holy Spirit and be his witnesses to the ends of the earth.  We are not told to stand gazing up into heaven but to preach the Kingdom and the promise of Jesus’ return in Glory.

As disciples, this season of waiting is not one of ungrounded optimism like that of Mr Macawber just waiting for something to turn up.  Our faith that Jesus will return in Glory and establish His rule is grounded in the Resurrection and the Easter promise.  It is not an idle, passive waiting but an active waiting that underpins all our activity in this parish.  It may not always be a glamorous waiting but it is nevertheless a waiting of witness in our part of God’s earth.

The great protestant theologian Karl Barth once wrote as follows about our time of waiting:

“The conclusion of Christ’s work is not an opportunity given to the Apostles for idleness, but it is their being sent out into the world.  Here there is no rest possible; here there is rather running and racing; here is the start of the mission, the sending of the Church into the world and for the world.”

We live in a time for preaching and proclaiming, for repenting and believing, for listening and comprehending, for running and racing, all in Christ’s name.  It is the time of Jesus Christ who stands outside of the doors of men and women and knocks.  If we have faith, we will hear him from within our room and open that door which can only be unlocked from within.

A time of waiting is rarely easy.  We may be anxious about what is to come and look back to the security, real or imagined, of the years that are past.  That is very much the mark of our society today with its cult of nostalgia and anniversaries. As Christians we also look to the past and do we not sometimes, perhaps secretly like the woman with the haemorhage, wish that we could reach out and touch the hem of his garment in the days of his flesh?  As Christians, do we not also yearn for that future day when Christ shall indeed be revealed in His Glory and our endeavours in the faith are vindicated?  Do we not sometimes ask in our hearts: “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”

But it is not for us to know the times or seasons.  It is in the faith that Christ reigns this very day seated at the right hand of the Father that we wait in active hope and expectation for the Resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.  We wait not for another time or season but for that which is eternal.

© Paul Hunt 2022

DO YOU WANT TO BE MADE WELL?  Sermon by Sandra Bentall 22.5.2022. John 5:1-9

Our 2 sons were just like other little boys and sometimes came off their trikes, tumbled over in the garden, scraped knees, fingers or elbows. They’d frequently come running up to Ken or me saying “Eina, eina” wanting us to kiss it and make it better.  Eina was the Afrikaans word for “Ouch” but used by all children in South African English as well.    Sometimes the “eina”, the “ouch”,  was so minor that by the time they got to us they might have forgotten which finger it was that got knocked. But the thrill for us  was that either one would come to us believing that we could help them and make it better.

In my life I’ve also had many an  eina, an ouch – a broken arm was the first I remember when I fell off roller skates;  also big bruises, cuts, and being a housewife burns from an oven shelf, and so on.

If all of us here sat around and swapped stories of our personal-wars  we’d probably discover that in each of our lives there have been many times where we have been “wounded” to some extent or another.

Someone once said that “Time heals all wounds”.  If I were to look back at physical battle scars I’ve managed to get  over the years, and how they’ve become little more than memories, and many I’ve forgotten about,  I might be inclined to think that statement is true.

But does time really heal all wounds?  I’ve heard that   all my life, as you probably have . . . but it isn’t really true, is it? Time does not heal all wounds. There are wounds deep down inside some people that still hurt when they are touched . . .aggrieved  that someone offended us but never apologised. . .   hurts that still cause pain  . . . a wounded spirit that continually reminds us that we are not whole.

How do we cope with life when our spirits are sore? How can we handle life when that part of us that is the very source of our energy and strength   is wounded and just won’t heal?

In the Gospel reading this morning (John 14:23-29) Jesus promises He would give His disciples peace. There are many examples of this in St John’s Gospel and today I would like us to think about the lame man at the Pool of Beth-zatha (also known as Bethesda in some translations). You will recall the story. He had been ill for 38 years and believed that to be healed he had to be the first person into the Pool when the waters stirred up. After all this time the man’s problems had become a way of life. He didn’t know anything different but how he’d always lived, lying in his comfort zone on his mat in one of the Pool’s porticoes alongside many others, and waited and waited for the chance to be healed. But because of his infirmities he could never get into the Pool first to be healed.  We might say that on the face of it this was the story of a physical healing – and has little to do with a wounded spirit I was just talking about. So not much we can learn from this story – right?  Well, let’s see!

What disables a person?  Broken body? Defeated mind?
After all those years perhaps this man’s emotional wounds were as crippling as his physical infirmity . . . his sense of helplessness . . .feelings of being abandoned . .  of worthlessness . . and shame.

Remember, he had likely believed that sickness and infirmity was God’s doing – punishment for his sins. What else did this man have to do  but lie there and think – and wait – dwell on his condition – and watch as others got to the waters first. Here is a man who really has all kinds of wounds.

But one day something different happens – Jesus comes along and brings him peace. Let’s look at how.

Amidst all the infirm people he was the one Jesus approached. But what does Jesus do? He does NOT help the man into the pool, but asks him a most meaningful question – “DO YOU WANT TO BE MADE WELL?”

Do I want to be made well? DO I want to be made well? 
That seems about as useless a question as asking the owner of a clock shop if he knows the time.

But the question was not for Jesus’ information. It was for the sick man himself and his answer may have helped his healing. What if the man hadn’t ever seriously considered this question of whether he actually wanted to be healed.   Had he thought about the responsibility of being whole in body, then having to take responsibility for himself which he wasn’t used to   as all the time he’d been ill he had relied on others to make his way in life. To be made well would mean he’d have to change –  and give up his old way of life he was used to.
So maybe the question “Do you want to be made well?” wasn’t such a strange question at all.

And what about us? As Jesus looks at us – crippled by problems, crippled by circumstance, crippled by sin, what does He say to us? Could it be that Jesus asks us the same question “Do you want to be made well?”

Maybe we should ask ourselves – Do you want Jesus to heal the parts of your life where you’ve been damaged  – or is it easier to hold on to the hurt? Is it easier to let bitterness fester, and to wallow in the hurt and betrayal, licking old wounds?  Often we hold on tightly to things that paralyse us spiritually.
Jesus can help heal things like that but when He does  we will be left without excuse for our lives and the choices we make.  We will no longer be able to cry “My life isn’t my fault, others are to blame”

So what about us today? When Jesus asks “do you want to be made well” what is our response?
When Jesus asks “do you want to be healed from your past hurts?”- do we reply “you don’t know how bad they hurt me”?
When Jesus asks “do you want to be loosed from the chains of your sin you keep secret?” – do we answer “I just can’t control myself”?
When Jesus says to the addict, “do you want to overcome?” – is the answer “I have an addiction, it’s a disease and it’s not my fault”?
When Jesus asks, “do you want to be saved, with Me in your life?” – will you excuse yourself with “I’m not nearly as bad as other people I know.”
At the Pool Jesus asked the crippled man, “Do you want to be made well?” And he just complained “I have no-one to put me into the Pool.”  No, he didn’t answer the question, did he? And Jesus ignored the lame man’s sorry excuse that he didn’t have anybody.  
But we know that for us – In Jesus we have somebody.  Jesus knows that old wounds are tender to the touch – and sometimes we’d rather pretend that all’s well, and deny our hurts  than to have them taken away.

To all of us who need His healing touch in any part of our life, Jesus asks “Do you WANT to be made well?”  and we should answer “Yes, Lord, I am ready to put the past behind me; help me to change what is needed. 
To receive the healing He has for our lives, we must put away our sorry excuses, but desire to be changed and believe He can help us.
The lame man’s excuse that he had no-one to help him was his response to explain his terrible plight. As with many of us  it was a way to rationalise why we haven’t sought healing of our wounds for ourselves.   And this often means finding SOMEONE ELSE TO BLAME.  We make excuses.

He’d learned to live with his disability and that was his way of life, probably told himself to just live with it. His situation seemed hopeless. Could anything change after all this time? 
But then Jesus came along with THAT BIG QUESTION – “Do you want to be made well?” He didn’t say “Oh yes” did he? He avoided the question. Had he given up on himself so made an excuse?

What about you? Has there been a time when you may have given up on yourself? Jesus asks each one of us if we want to be made well – but we may miss the chance for wholeness by trying to cover up ourselves from His concern.  But no matter how trapped a person feels in their infirmities, God can minister to their deepest needs. Don’t let a problem or hardship cause you to avoid listening for God – He may have special work for you to do in spite of a condition, or even because of it. Many have ministered effectively to hurting people because they have triumphed over their own hurts.

Back to the story. We are told that Jesus came to the man and commanded “Stand up, take your mat and walk”.
After all this time of no change, no improvement, something did happen. Jesus did not end with “Stand up”.   He told the man “Take your mat and walk”. He was not healed just to stand there. Notice that the man does not leave his mat behind, it goes with him. His circumstances are real. The difference is he now carries them.

What are the burdens and barriers in our lives? Ask yourself – do I want to overcome them? Start by asking yourself – What do I need to be healed of? What’s my impediment?   Is it self-imposed?   What’s standing in the way?   What sort of things do I need to change in my life?   Am I holding on hurt or anger or perhaps a destructive habit, wanting to be healthy and whole but not willing to stop smoking or drinking or eating troubles away or just sitting around.

Nothing is stronger than a habit and it takes strength to break it. Pray for that strength and act upon it. Rather than seeing a murky pool of disappointments, it’s wiser to see a pool filled with hope and opportunity. Then DO something – jump in.

Could we step outside of our comfort zone and take a leap in faith? Like Linus and his blanket, if we’re determined to hold on to what we’re used to, we may well be closing the door to possibilities God has in store for us, perhaps with special work for Him.  Listen for His voice!

You may be one of those who can help someone else. Perhaps try phoning someone worse off than you and brightening their day by chatting with them.

God’s work in our lives is accomplished by His grace. To experience it we must reach out in faith and co-operate with Him.        

Are you still sitting on your mat?
Are you still looking wistfully over your Pool of Beth-zatha?
When life puts you in tough situations do you say “Why always me?” instead of “Why not me?”  
Do you ask in defeat “Why me?”  instead of saying in defiance “Try ME”

    
Amen

Sandra Bentall, Authorised Lay Minister for Old Town Parish of St Clement & All Saints, Hastings.

A Sermon by Keith Leech, Authorised Lay Minister

I have been told that attempting to preach about The Messiah is going where angels fear to tread. Yet this is today’s Gospel so let’s grasp the nettle.

Until His trial Jesus never explicitly used the words ‘I am the Messiah’. It would have been considered to be blasphemous. Those who were out to get Him wanted Him to say it so that they would have an excuse to arrest Him; but He never did. Instead He said ‘I told you but you do not believe’. He goes on to explain ‘The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me’.

There are various accounts of the trial of Jesus. In Matthew, Luke and John He is asked by Pilate ‘Are you the King of the Jews?’ His reply is ‘So you say’.  In John He also says ‘My Kingdom is not an earthly kingdom’. Only in Mark does He actually say that He is the Messiah. ‘Again the high priest asked him, “Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One?  “I am,” said Jesus. “And you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven….”  He says I am the Messiah and also The Son of Man. These are both significant statements.

The Old Testament Prophets Ezekiel, Isaiah (particularly chapter 35) and Zechariah predicted the Messiah. The Messiah means the anointed one of God, God’s chosen one.  In Greek it translates as The Christ.  Just in case anybody thinks otherwise Jesus full name was Yhesuah ben Yoseph.  Jesus son of Joseph.  We now call him Jesus Christ. Jesus the anointed one of God.., Jesus the Messiah.

There were many different interpretations at that time as to what the Messiah would be. There was the official version from the Pharisee and Sadducee religious thinkers, (who didn’t even always agree amongst themselves)… but also many other interpretations.  It could be considered to be similar to the myriad of ideas that can be found throughout Christianity about the nature of Christ today.

The ideas changed over the years and when the Roman occupation came the Messiah popularly became a liberator.  

The last book of the Old Testament was written 300 years before Christ yet there were new writings still appearing with new ideas about the Messiah, including the Dead Sea Scrolls. These writings were still being written right up until the time of Jesus.  The Messiah was to do and be a number of things. He would be priest, prophet, hidden, slain and warrior, he would …

Build the Third Temple  ‘ (Ezekiel).

He would gather all Jews back to the Land of Israel ’ (Isaiah).

He would usher in an era of world peace, and end all hatred, oppression, suffering and disease. “Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall man learn war anymore.” (Isaiah)

He would spread universal knowledge of the God of Israel, which will unite humanity as one.: “God will be King over all the world – on that day, God will be One and His Name will be One” (Zechariah).

He also would completely uphold all the law and any interpretation of it

Jesus says in Matthew  ‘Do not think that I have come to abolish Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfil them’.   He was however considered to be a law breaker. Quite frequently and openly, Jesus broke traditional Jewish interpretation of the religious laws. He was accused of breaking laws concerning the Sabbath on multiple occasions, but Jesus didn’t actually break any Old Testament command. He violated the interpretations religious leaders had developed around the biblical commands of keeping the Sabbath day holy. He was actually showing leadership and discipleship.

Jesus refers to Himself as ‘The Son of Man’ in today’s reading and throughout the Gospels. One of the texts between the old and new testament is the Book of Enoch. It was written just over 100 years before the birth of Jesus.  It was a well-known text at the time and is mentioned in Luke, the Epistle to the Hebrews and Jude.  It makes reference to the ‘Son on Man’ as a pre-existing entity (that is a He was present at the creation) and as another way of describing The Messiah. One who will come in judgement to destroy the wicked of the Earth. ‘The Son of Man’ is very much a post Old Testament idea from the time between the last book of the Old Testament and the time of Jesus.

So when asked if he was the Messiah Jesus says in today’s Gospel  ‘My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father’s hand. The Father and I are one.’ The last sentence is quite something. ‘The Father and I are one’ here we have Jesus saying He is one with God. He finishes by saying ‘The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me’. He just points to the signs and works as sufficient evidence in themselves.

The issue as to whether Jesus was the Messiah is more to do with literal interpretation of the prophecies, than seeing that there is metaphor and deeper meaning. It is in expecting a man to be the Messiah as opposed to the Son of God; Himself part of the one indivisible God.

I sometimes wonder if the second coming was today and Jesus chose to come as he did before whether we would ourselves recognise Him… or would we not because our expectations were different to what we were seeing, or our own religious dogma prevented us from seeing Him  even  if He was standing in front of us?

How relevant is Jesus as the Messiah, The Christ, to us today?

Jesus asks in Matthew, Mark and Luke. Who do men say I am? …..Who do you say I am?

‘My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me’.

Amen

Keith Leech ALM May 2022

“David danced before the Lord with all his might.” 2 Samuel 6.4

(Morris Festival Eucharist, 1^st May 2022, All Saints, Hastings)

I begin with a question: Where did the frisbee go to dance?  The answer? To a disc-o.

It’s a long time since I’ve been to a disco.  I do remember a disco on the lower floor of what is now Fagins Diner at the High Street end of George Street.  It was 1978 and it was peak time for the Bee Gees and John Travolta.  I was still an undergraduate and was teaching Sixth Form Italian students in St Mary Star of the Sea during the Long Vacation.  So there I was, not quite twenty-one, at the farewell disco with some delightful Italian girls.  For me, it was certainly a case of Saturday Night Fever and early proof of the existence of heaven. 

But dance is more than gyratory perambulations at a disco and comes in so many forms.  These days I prefer to watch ballet, a truly great and expressive art form.  An expressive art form might also be one way in which to describe belly dancing.  Ballroom dancing has retained its popularity or, strictly speaking, has increased it and on this May Day we celebrate Morris Dancing with its long tradition and different patterns of dance.

We can also find dance in the Bible.  As we heard in our first lesson, King David danced in worship with all his might ahead of the Ark of the Covenant returning to Jerusalem.  He is even despised by Saul’s daughter for “leaping and dancing before the Lord” in his joy at the Ark’s return.

After the exodus from Egypt, Aaron’s sister Miriam and other women dance and play the tambourine. (Exod. 15.20)

The prophet Jeremiah speaks of dancing as part of the rejoicing when the Jews return to Judah after their exile in Bablyon. (Jer.31.13)

Psalm 149 calls upon us to praise God’s name with dancing.

Psalm 150 calls upon us likewise.

There are many other positive references to dance.

And in today’s Gospel, Jesus refers to those who do not accept him as being like those who refuse to dance.

Historically, dance has been part of the church’s unofficial liturgy but it disappeared sometime after the Middle Ages.  The Puritans, a tad unfairly, usually get a bad press in this respect.

Theologically, true worship of God involves our mind, spirit and body.  We express our worship in bodily actions such as kneeling, bowing or making the sign of the cross and dancing for and to the Lord is no different in principle.

Dancing is also trinitarian in shape: We have the music, we have the leader in the dance and we have the dancers who follow.  At its highest level, it is one perfect action, three in one and one in three.

Life is also like a dance.  I’ve often thought of life as being rather like the formal dances such as the cottilion or quadrille we come across at the Netherfield Ball in Pride and Prejudice and in costume dramas.  We may say farewell to one person or place at an early stage in the dance of life and then, as we move through life, find ourselves re-united at a later stage.  That’s certainly been my experience with key people and places coming in and out of my life, often unexpectedly, at different stages and, looking back on six decades, I discern a pattern and the divine dance leader leading me on.  To use the title of a painting by Poussin and of a series of novels by Anthony Powell, our lives are very much A Dance to the music of time.

So here we are at our Morris Festival Eucharist, literally our Morris Festival Thanksgiving, on this May Day.  Let us reflect on how we live our lives and see whether we can discern in them something of the music of time, conscious that our time should be enjoyed but also that our time, like all dance sequences, will one day draw to its conclusion.

I rather like the fact that the word for ‘dance’ in Aramaic, chada, the form of Hebrew spoken by Jesus, is also the word for joy.  So let our dancing at this joyful Eastertide be joyful dancing.

Let us hear Jesus’ invitation to us to dance so that we may, like King David, dance before the Lord will all our might as God seeks to lead us through the dance of life.

Dance, then, wherever you may be,

I am the Lord of the Dance, said he.

And I’ll lead you all wherever you may be,

And I’ll lead you all in the Dance, said he.

© Paul Hunt 2022

“Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb, also went in and he saw and believed.” (John 20.8)

(All Saints, Hastings, Easter Day, 17^th April 2022)

Is seeing believing?  Judy Cubison kindly gave me a lift home a couple of weeks ago and when we got to St. Leonards, where all the best people live, we saw two men crossing Norman Road.  There was nothing strange about that in itself – I have myself crossed Norman Road hundreds of times – but these two men were dressed as trees.  After a slight initial hestitation, we believed what we saw. We were, after all, in St. Leonards.  If you visit the George Street shop Turn the Tide, you will see two prints for sale in the window.  One reads “Keep Hastings Weird.”  The second reads “Keep St Leonards Weirder.”

How often, I wonder, do we jump to conclusions when we see something?  Now those conclusions are sometimes correct but sometimes they are not.  I used to attend a church with a much loved vicar.  But I will never forget his service of institution.  At the moment when he was presented to his new congregation, a loud voice came from one of the women in the pews: “That’s not him, is it?”  She had jumped to a premature conclusion on the basis of an initial physical sighting.  She was later to see her new vicar in a much deeper, and consequently, far more positive way.

There are three different ways of seeing in St. John’s narrative of the visits of Mary Magdelene, Peter and John, the Beloved Disciple, to the empty tomb.

First, we have Mary Magdelene.  She arrives at the tomb while it is still dark and finds that the stone has been rolled away from the entrance. Her conclusion, based on what she can see in the darkness, is that the body of Jesus has been moved, possibly even stolen.  “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him,” are her words to Peter and John.

So Peter and John run to the tomb.  Although it is John who arrives first and who looks inside the tomb, it is Peter who enters first.  And what does he see?  He sees the linen burial cloths and, rolled up by itself, the head cloth.  He realises that the body has not been stolen because the robbers would not have bothered to take off the the burial cloths and leave them tidily.  But he doesn’t know what else to make of the situation.  St Luke tells us that Peter returned home perplexed – as well as he might have been.

And then thirdly we have St. John, the Beloved Disciple.  John sees the same physical evidence as Mary Magdelene and Peter: the missing body, the linen burial cloths and the rolled up head cloth.  But John begins to grasp the significance of this evidence.  “He saw and believed.”

But what exactly does he see?  At one level, he sees nothing more – or less – than what Mary and Peter have seen.   Yet at a deep level John begins to grasp the meaning of Jesus’ hints about “the third day”, about the need for the Messiah to suffer before coming into His Glory.

Inside the empty tomb, John begins to see the deeper significance of those burial cloths and intuits the correct conclusion.  By contrast, Mary and Peter and, yes, we too, look for confirmation.  For them and us, and certainly shortly afterwards for Thomas, seeing is believing.  But what was it that Jesus said to Thomas?  “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.”

Just think about the story of our own lives for a moment.  Is it not the case that we can often see the true significance or importance of something after an event, frequently years after it.  We may even see such an event as life changing or life defining.  Perhaps it was the moment we first met someone or the acceptance of a new job and subsequent relocation or even a chance conversation.  We look back and see that event in a way laden with a meaning and significance that it didn’t have at the time.

Earlier in his Gospel, St. John writes of the disciples that “When he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he said these things and they believed the word which Jesus had spoken.”

Seeing.  In this story of the first Easter morning, St. John uses three different verbs for “seeing”.  When the Beloved Disciple reaches the tomb he bends down and looks in.  The Greek verb here is Blepo, I see, I glance at something.  This is what Judy and I did when we saw the two men dressed as trees. 

Peter then goes inside the tomb and the Greek verb here is theoreo, to notice carefully, to take in the detail.  Our English ‘theory’ comes from this.  Peter notices the separation of the burial cloth and head cloth and that the latter is neatly rolled up.

John then enters the tomb and he also sees but this time in a different way from when he had bent down to peer in.  The Greek verb here is horao, a way of seeing that goes beyond the immediately visible to the significance and meaning of what is seen.

So early on that first Easter morning, we have three ways of seeing: the eye that glances, the eye for detail and the eye of understanding.

Is it always true that seeing is believing?  Or is it sometimes the case that believing is truly seeing?   On this Easter Day may we too believe that we may also truly see.

© Paul Hunt 2022

“Then they all shouted out together, ‘Away with this fellow! Release Barabbas for us!’” (Luke 23.18)

(Palm Sunday, 10^th April 2022, All Saints, Hastings)

Does anyone remember the Hollywood actor Anthony Quinn?  I see blank looks on the faces of younger members of the congregation.  I ask simply because he played the title role in the 1961 epic film Barabbas.  Looking back, I think that it was early exposure to those Hollywood biblical epics of the late 1950s and early 1960s that encouraged my then unarticulated interest in religion.  My favourite film was Solomon and Sheba starring Yul Brynner and Gina Lollobrigida – remember them? The film was in what was called “cinemascope” and I remember a great battle scene screened on what seems (in my memory) to have been almost three sides of the cinema.  And who can forget Ben Hur with Charlton Heston, the Jewish charioteer who becomes a Christian?

But back to Barabbas in 1961.  Released by Pilate, Barabbas returns to his friends and asks for his lover Rachel whom he discovers has become a Christian.  Barabbas watches the crucifixion and the sealing of Jesus’ tomb.  Rachel then finds herself stoned to death for preaching the Resurrection and Barabbas, realising that he is indirectly responsible for her death, returns to his criminal ways.  Convicted after a robbery, Barabbas is sentenced by Pilate to twenty years in the sulphur mines of Sicily and there he is chained to another prisoner who is a Christian.  Cutting a long film short, they both escape and end up as gladiators (as one always does in these films) in Nero’s Rome.  By now Barabbas has also become a follower of the man crucified in his place and he too perishes on a cross along with other Christians blamed by Nero for the Great Fire of Rome.

The film is an interesting weave of biblical narrative, historical fact and generous imagination.

What of the real Barabbas in so far as we know anything at all?  He is described by St John as a robber and St. Luke describes him as having been imprisoned for murder and involvement in an insurrection in Jerusalem.  St. Mark links the murder directly to the insurrection and mentions that Barabbas was in prison with other rebels.  St. Matthew simply says that Barabbas was a notorious prisoner.

It is occasionally suggested that Barabbas may have been a one of the zealots, religious extremists who fought against Roman rule, but the scholarly consensus is that he was simply a criminal of the lowest type, a violent thief who didn’t stop at murder.  

The film imagines Barabbas as a witness to the crucifixion which, when you think about it, is not such a fanciful thought.  After all, would we not be tempted by morbid curiosity to see who was dying on the cross instead of us? 

We have our palm crosses this morning.  They remind us of the triumphal entry on Palm Sunday and the cross to which it led.  Hopefully, we shall display them in our homes until Ash Wednesday as a sign and reminder of our faith. 

But of what faith?  Is it a faith that remembers and celebrates the triumphs of Palm Sunday and Easter Day, by-passing the humiliation of the Good Friday Cross?  I ask that question in all earnestness and ask everyone to appear in church at least once in the period between today and Easter Day.  I ask particularly for observance on Good Friday and I’m glad that our Procession of Witness will take place after a three year absence.  Why am I asking this?  Because to go straight from Palm Sunday to Easter Day simply does not tread the path of Jesus.  Nor is it a true reflection of our lives as Christians; do we not all experience our own Good Fridays?  The relentlessly upbeat nature of some brands of Christianity is simply not in accord with my own experience as a Christian. 

So let’s go with Hollywood and imagine the presence of Barabbas at the Crucifixion.  You can find the scene on You Tube.  Having returned to the house of his friends after his release by Pilate, Barabbas has fallen asleep next to Rachel.  He wakes up and momentarily thinks that he has gone blind; such is the darkness, literal and metaphorical, at the time of the Crucifixion.  Barabbas leaves the house to witness the Crucifixion for himself and is overcome with a sense of awe, although the full meaning of that awe will only become apparent many years later.  Perhaps the most striking moment in this Hollywood re-imagining comes after the dead body of Jesus has been taken down from the Cross.  Mary, the mother of Jesus, leaves Golgotha and, as she does so, looks straight at Barabbas and holds her gaze.  Just reflect on that for a moment.  The mother of Jesus looks upon the man who was saved by the crowd instead of her son.  Barabbas cannot meet Mary’s gaze and can only turn his face away.  It is a poignant moment.

It is only many years later, after years in the sulphur mines and as a gladiator, that Barabbas has come to understand that moment and rejoice in the Resurrection of that first Easter Day.  But he was there on that first Good Friday. 

Perhaps Barabbas speaks to us on this Palm Sunday:

“Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble,

Tremble, tremble;

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”

© Paul Hunt 2022

A Sermon by Dr Pat Lock, Reader

Readings:  Phillippians 3 4-14

                  John 12 1-8

Martha and Mary

 I like Martha.  I can empathise with Martha.  Busy, busy busy.  Go from one thing to another, work all hours and things get done.  And everyone knows that if you need something done you ask a busy person. They thrive on busyness and late nights – in fact you would be depriving them if you did not ask then for just one thing more.  But Mary – well, a bit too sedate for me. But maybe not for you. But look closer, for they both have so much to offer and to teach us.

When Jesus went to the house in Bethany, he was wrestling with his forthcoming execution. He was about 6 or 7 days away from his entry into Jerusalem. Everyone knew that Lazarus had died, long enough that his body would have started to decompose. And now, here he was walking around, a living sign of Jesus’ power over life and death. It stirred up the Jesus frenzy even more. The chief priests and other religious leaders were worried. If the enthusiasm for Jesus went on unchecked, the delicate equilibrium between their Jewish religion and the Roman authorities would be destroyed. Something had to be done! So, they plotted that Jesus had to die. Nothing short of his death would do. And they waited to arrest him.

This is the atmosphere on the evening of the dinner in Jesus’ honour. Outside, the air was pungent with tension and impending doom. But inside the house in Bethany, the atmosphere was different. The three siblings put on a lavish meal for Jesus. Martha serves, as she so wonderfully does. We get the sense that nobody cooks or serves up a dinner like Martha can.

 It is logical to think that Jesus went to a friend’s house hoping for hospitality and a rest.  That he had someone who would understand his anguish and he could talk and be listened to.  Maybe if Martha had sent out for a takeaway – a McMalachi or something, and had then given him time, it might have been different. What Jesus needed was understanding and comfort.  The presence of a friend – not someone bustling about making a perfect 6 course meal.  But we too often wrongly contrast these two sisters, as though each Christian should make a choice to be either a worshipper like Mary or a worker like Martha.  But I think we miss the point.  God wants each of us to imitate Mary in our worship and Martha in our work, and to achieve balance in both.  Martha was obviously a great hostess and said to herself  “ what a great privilege to prepare a meal for the master” and Mary would have said  “ What a great privilege to sit at the feet of the master”.  None is wrong.  Duty and devotion are both necessary.   

And so, Martha carries on being the hostess with the mostess and before long she notices that she’s doing all the work.  There’s a difference between doing everything after someone has offered to help and you’ve turned them down, and doing everything and no-one has offered. And it was clear that Mary had just sat herself down at Jesus feet and become totally engrossed in what Jesus was saying.  If you think for a moment, you can almost see Martha standing there, tea towel over one shoulder, flour on her nose and hands on her hips. And she lost it to the degree that she turned on Jesus and all but blames him, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone”.   We live in a blame culture now.  When things go wrong, it has to be because of someone else.  No one accepts responsibility for their own actions – or their own omissions.  But Jesus responds with tenderness. He does not rebuke Martha for her attempt to serve him nor did he tell her to stop and come and join them in their devotions. He recognised that we all have our gifts and choices. It was bad enough Judas having a go.   But she was so caught up in serving that she didn’t take the time to speak to Jesus.  I expect many of us here are guilty of the same. 

What distracts you from getting to know Jesus better?   Jesus is showing us very clearly the balance that is needed in our lives.  There is a balance between service and worship.  A balance between doing and listening.  A balance between our faith being active in live and our faith being made stronger by the word of God.  Jesus is pointing out that in each situation it is the responsibility of each one of us to decide what to do.  Martha had decided that service was more important than worship, or listening or prayer.  But she had misunderstood the situation.  Jesus at that point would have done with cheese and crackers, for what he was seeking was someone to listen, someone to pay heed, someone to share with him in the suffering that was going to come in Jerusalem  He needed to say his goodbye to his friends.  And prayer and worship are the food that gives us the strength for service.  If we do not meet with our Lord then we are not serving in his name.  They are but two sides of the same coin. We cannot fully worship unless we have been serving and we cannot fully serve unless we have been worshipping.  But we must be sensitive to the needs of  hose we serve and respond in an appropriate way.  We want to offer God the very best. And Mary did just that.  Overcome with emotion and passion for Christ, and in a gesture of pure extravagance, she brings out an outrageously expensive perfumed oil contained in an  alabaster jar or a small vial. It was called nard and it was a light-reddish colour, derived from the spikenard plant. It was very expensive because it was grown in India in the Himalayan mountains. Traders would bring it and sell it.  We are told it cost about a year’s wages.  It was mostly reserved however for burial. In order to help with the smell of the deceased, nard and other spices would be applied to the body. Some of it may well have been used on Lazarus’ body but obviously not all of it. Mary breaks the vial to access the oil and she poured some of the contents of the bottle onto Jesus’ head, to anoint him. He was her king. Most of it however she saved for the feet of Jesus. She pours the expensive perfume all over Jesus’ feet and the whole house is filled with its scent. John’s words are so evocative we can practically smell the perfume ourselves as he describes the moment. Mary pours out the perfume, and it’s all gone. Her great offering is complete. She then takes down her hair. All Jewish woman kept their hair up when they were out in public. The only time you ever let your hair down was in the privacy of your own home amongst immediate family. It’s a scene of remarkable intimacy. A woman would not have let down her hair in front of men, and she certainly would not touch a man, let alone his feet. But Mary wants to express her deep love for Jesus – her king and her Lord. Not only had Jesus resurrected her dear brother Lazarus, but he has saved the future of Mary and her sister. Without their brother, their future would have been doomed. Jesus hasn’t only saved Lazarus’ life; he’s saved hers.

And as a church we must do the same – we must sit, and listen and pray and then serve, and serve effectively, knowing that we have heard the will of God, for prayer without serving is powerless. Serving without prayer is directionless.  And sometimes we won’t get it quite right. And that is why we need both the Martha’s and the Marys – to give us balance and to help each other.  For that is the way God made us to be.

What do you have that is costly to give to our Lord?  How costly is your worship and your service? We too may serve Jesus in many ways.  But in our busy schedule, let us not forget to spend time sitting at His feet for that should be our priority. That is the place of spiritual rest and peace.

Jesus is about to break open the precious vial of his life. He will pour himself out on the cross. He’ll completely expend all that he has, all that he is. There’s no turning back. The bottle of perfume has already been broken open, and soon, very soon, Jesus will be broken, too. What has been poured out cannot be returned. Jesus is going to break himself open and pour out his life. He is on a path to the cross. He’s about to make an extravagant sacrifice. It’s the most precious thing he has, the gift of his life.

“Unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.”  (Luke 13. 3,5)

(The Third Sunday of Lent, 20^th March 2022, All Saints, Hastings)

Should we leave church feeling disturbed and unsettled?  In my former parish I used to half-joke that this should occasionally be the case.  And so I raise the question today.  Why are we in church this morning? We attend church to be encouraged in our faith, to learn about it, to share fellowship in it, to experience the joy of it, to be challenged by it.  But to be disturbed and unsettled by it?

I am more than challenged by today’s Gospel reading.  I am disturbed and unsettled by it.  Was I alone in that uncomfortable feeling when it was being read?  Like the Galileans who had been killed in Jerusalem and whose blood had run together with that of the sacrificed animals, like the eighteen people killed when a building collapsed on them, we will perish, says Jesus, unless we repent.  This is a stern and disturbing Jesus.  This is not the gentle Jesus, meek and mild, beloved of the sentimental approach to Christian faith.

So how on earth if not in heaven are we to understand this passage from St. Luke?

The immediate point is it asks us to take the concept of sin seriously.  Sin is a serious business.  It literally means to “miss the mark”.  In other words to fall short of the moral standard set by God. 

What we need to remember in order to understand this harsh passage is that sin and suffering – whether massacred by Pilate or crushed by a collapsed tower – were connected.  In Jewish theology suffering was a direct punishment for sin.   It is extraordinary how that view remains today, expressed most recently by those who have seen Covid as God’s punishment on sinners.  If true, then those of us who have escaped infection thus far may be numbered amongst the righteous…..I don’t think so.

This view – that suffering is a punishment for sin, is challenged within the Bible itself.  First by Job’s sufferings which transpire not to be a punishment for sin despite the conventional theology of sin and suffering expressed by Job’s so-called comforters. It is also challenged and dismissed by Jesus himself in John Chapter Nine in the story of the man born blind.  Whose sin was responsible for the blindness, ask the disciples.  The man himself or his parents?  Neither said Jesus.  He also makes an implicit challenge to this traditional view within today’s passage: Those who died because the tower collapsed were no worse than all the others living in Jerusalem, he says.

But we need to grasp the theology of the bystanders as they hear of the Galileans and the eighteen people killed by the collapsing tower.  They believe that those people had suffered because of their sin.

Jesus is saying that his hearers who are not currently suffering should not rest in the security of their self-righteous comfort.  That they are not suffering is not a sign of their moral well-being. They still need to repent while there is time before the judgement.

“Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them – do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem.  No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did.”

We can sometimes have a skewed view of judgement, that somehow it is inconsistent with God’s character as the God of love.  But hatred of sin is the consequence of God’s holiness.  Toleration of sin is inconsistent with a holy God.  And a holy and loving God invites us to repentence:

“God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son that all that believe in him should not perish but have everlasting life.” (John 3.16)  

Martin Luther described that wonderful and comforting verse as “the Gospel in miniature”.  We do not have to perish, to be alienated from God for eternity, but can enter into the fullness of God’s presence for evermore.  God turns no-one away; we can only turn ourselves.

The real unkindness, a false Christianity, is not to talk about sin or judgement and to peddle the lie that whatever we do, however we live our lives, it will all be alright on Judgement night.  It is to offer what Bonhoeffer called “a cheap covering for the world’s sin.”  Our forebears in this Church knew better – just look at our Doom painting above the entrance to the chancel.  On the left as you face it you can just about see the walls of the heavenly Jerusalem and on the right is the medieval mind’s concept of alienation from God in the form of devils and the gallows.  In the middle Christ sits in judgement.

We are not bystanders hearing today’s Gospel and feeling sorry for the Galileans and the eighteen fatalities of the tower of Siloam.  Jesus addresses us this Lent, calling upon us to be conscious of our sin and to repent, literally to turn ourselves around.  Or will we remain in the false comfort of our own self-righteousness?

If we think of this passage as only referring to the lives of others we have not truly heard it.  Jesus’ words are disturbing.  They are unsettling.  But there is still time to hear the Gospel in miniature and for what the Prayer Book calls “amendment of life” – and that is truly comforting.

© Paul Hunt 2022

“At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” (Luke 13.31)

(The Second Sunday in Lent, 13^th March, 2022, All Saints, Hastings)

What strikes you about this verse from Luke?  That Jesus is in danger because Herod wants to kill him?  Yes.  But what struck me for the very first time when I began to think about today’s sermon was this: The warning comes from some Pharisees.  They don’t want Jesus to be killed by Herod.

The Pharisees nearly always get a bad press.  We think of them as the opponents of Jesus, together with their rivals the Sadducees.

Here is some of that press from four novelists, a Gospel and a website:

Charlotte Bronte: “Self-righteousness is not religion…To pluck the mask from the face of the pharisee is not to lift an impious hand to the Crown of Thorns.”  (Jane Eyre)

George Eliot referred to the smug and hypocritical moralism exhibited by some of her characters as “the religion of the pharisees”. (The Mill on the Floss, Middlemarch)

Francois Mauriac wrote about a woman whose main goal in life seems to be that of pointing out the sins and failures of other people.  The title of the novel?  The Woman of the Pharisees.

Boris Pasternak: “All drowns in the Pharisees’ hypocrisy.” (Dr Zhivago)

Matthew 23.23: “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!  For you tithe mint, dill and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith….You blind guides!  You strain out a gnat but swallow a camel.”

That denunciation, ascribed to Jesus, is but one of a series in Matthew chapter twenty-three.

And looking at the website of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church last week, I found an article entitled Five Signs of a Modern Pharisee. These were listed as arrogance, theatricality, grovelling to superiors, boasting and formalism.

As I said, they do not get a good press.

So who exactly were the Pharisees at the time of Jesus?

The term Pharisee means “separated one” and they placed great emphasis on the observance of Jewish religious law, both written and oral, separating themselves from anything deemed to be ritually unclean.  They were supported by the majority of ordinary folk, especially in the synagogues of Galilee, unlike the more exclusive and priestly Sadduccees who focused on the Temple cult in Jerusalem.

So what do we make of these Pharisees?

Simon the Pharisee who invited Jesus to dine with him.

Nicodemus the Pharisee, who came to Jesus by night, eager to learn more.  “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God” are his opening words to Jesus.

Joseph of Arimathea the Pharisee, who asked Pilate for Jesus’ body and buried it in a new tomb and who was, St Luke tells us, a “good and righteous man waiting expectantly for the Kingdom of God.”

Gamaliel the Pharisee, described by Luke as “respected by all the people” spoke in defence of the apostles at a meeting of the Sanhedrin, the Jewish Council in Acts chapter five.

And in Philippians chapter three, St. Paul, a former pupil of Gamaliel, describes himself as a pharisee.  Before the Sanhedrin, the Jewish Council, Paul the Pharisee said, “I am a pharisee, a son of pharisees.”

“At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.”

Today’s text should cause us to be more careful how we think about the pharisees in the first century.  It is dangerous, not least in fuelling antisemitism, to picture all of the pharisees as being hypocritical opponents of Jesus.  They were not.

Like the worst of the Pharisees encountered by Jesus, we can all be guilty of the five sins of the modern pharisee: spiritual arrogance, theatricality in displaying our devotion in front of others, being yes-men and women to those in authority, boasting of our achievements and virtues, and formalism in keeping to the letter of our religion but ignoring its spirit.

But like the best of them, like Nicodemus, we can want to know Jesus better and seek to discern, like Gamaliel, what comes from God and what does not.  Like Joseph of Arimathea, we can show courage in demonstrating our faith publically.

And by extension perhaps we need to remind ourselves that ascribing the same characteristics to an entire group of people, be they Russians, refugees, immigrants, bankers, politicians, pharisees or whoever is not only nonsense but desecrates their God-given individuality. 

“Understand a man by his deeds and words,” it says in the Talmud, that great collection of Jewish Wisdom compiled by Pharisees.  “The impressions of others leads to false judgement.”

© Paul Hunt 2022

 ‘TEMPTATIONS’ for LENT 1. 6^th March 2022 Luke 4.1-13, Psalm 91.  From Sandra Bentall.

Temptations?   What about a recent time you were tempted?  Hold it in your mind. Was it physical, emotional or spiritual? Were you tempted by just a bit more time on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram..? Just one more screen game before breakfast? An extra biscuit? I’ll cut my walk short. It won’t matter. Perhaps you made a resolution in January that became more difficult as the days went by.  Were you tempted to break it?. . oh well, just once won’t matter?
Here’s a story about a man called Don. Don wasn’t making much headway with his diet. He was one of those people who could resist most things – but temptation. One day he came into the office with a whole box of freshly baked doughnuts. When his friends questioned him about his diet, he explained that really he wouldn’t have got the doughnuts if it hadn’t been for God.   “WHAT? What do you mean”? one of his friends asked.  “Well”, Don said, “as I was about to drive past the bakery I could smell the wonderful aromas and prayed that if it was God’s will for me to have doughnuts today  I would be able to find a parking place in front of the shop.  
And do you know what?  Sure enough I found a space right in front – on the 8^th time around the block”

Most of us have a tougher time with temptation than we like to think.
We try to tell ourselves that the things we do – the little things that hurt others or ourselves, aren’t really all that important or all that harmful – or that someone else is really to blame for them – because something they did or said made us react like we did. We don’t like to think that maybe,  just maybe,  even when we’ve been provoked, while we think our reaction is justifiable, maybe our behaviour is not.

Now it is interesting to note the meaning of the word TO TEMPT.  In English it means to entice someone to do wrong, to persuade someone to take the wrong way into sin.  But the word used in Greek PEIRAZEIN (peer A zeen) means
TO TEST far more than it means to tempt in our sense of the word.  I think that what we call temptation is not meant to make us sin; it is meant to test us and enable us to conquer sin. It is not meant to make us bad, it is meant to make us good. It is not meant to weaken us, it is meant to make us emerge stronger from the ordeal. So perhaps we might consider the temptations of Jesus as the testing of Jesus.

Remember, Jesus had just been confirmed by God as his Son, at his baptism, but before he could embark on his ministry, he had to consider the task ahead and HOW he was going to do it. Full of the Holy Spirit he was led by the Spirit into the wilderness for a long time, eating nothing and being completely alone.  With Jesus in this very vulnerable state he was tempted to take easy ways out to get people to follow him.
I believe it is also significant that this is the most sacred of stories, for it can have come only from Jesus himself as he had been alone. So at some time he must have described to his disciples this most personal experience, of his own spiritual struggles.

Now imagine what was called the wilderness. Between the inhabited part of Judaea and the Dead Sea stretched a vast terrible wilderness, 35 miles by 15 miles, called Jeshimmon in the Old Testament, which means The Devastation.
Doesn’t that say it all–hills like dust heaps, rocks bare and jagged, the ground glowed with heat like a vast furnace.

I see it as significant that this was the first of several times in the gospels where Jesus withdrew to a quiet place, to be alone, to pray.  Here he was trying to sort out how he could attempt the task God had given him to do.  Before he could approach starting his mission he had to get things straightened out in his mind. So he would be alone for a while; this was quite a long while.     Perhaps we go wrong sometimes simply because we don’t try to be alone. We don’t give ourselves a chance to be alone with God, and to pray about something.  If any person has a vision the immediate problem is how to turn that vision into fact, to find some way to turn the dream into reality. Jesus faced the problem of how to lead people to God. How was he to do it? Was he to adopt the method of a mighty conqueror, or was he to adopt the method of patient, sacrificial love? The WHAT-to-do task had been committed into his hands. Now he pondered HOW-to-do it. Wrestling with his thoughts in the wilderness Jesus was crashing from the high of his baptism down to where his resistance was very very low, being extremely hungry,

Last Wednesday as we marked a very important day, the beginning of Lent, our Ash Wednesday service commenced with that very descriptive hymn, “40 days and 40 nights, thou was fasting in the wild; 40 days and 40 nights tempted, and yet undefiled. Sunbeams scorching all the day; chilly dewdrops nightly shed; prowling beasts along the way; stones thy pillow, earth thy bed.”

Could there be easy ways for his mission?  But these would not be the right way!
The tempter skilfully chose the time to attack Jesus, but Jesus trusted in God and put his apparently good grounding of Scripture to good use. These struggles went on in his heart and soul but he was able to retaliate by reassurance of God’s Word.  The testing he faced were physical, emotional, and spiritual.

We ourselves face situations every day, some of them relatively trivial, and some of major consequence, in which the choice is not between good and evil, but between what is hard and what is easy.

The PHYSICAL test must have been very tempting to Jesus, famished as he was. It was like –‘You’re hungry Jesus – IF you are the Son of God – do what comes naturally to you – turn these rocks into bread. Use your advantage to your advantage – it won’t hurt anyone’.  The wilderness was littered with stones shaped like the daily little loaves familiar in every household.  What a test. Being able to show people sensational abilities would surely win them over to follow him. Could he persuade people to follow him by giving them food?
But Jesus retaliated with “One does not live by bread alone”, quoting from Deuteronomy.  (8v3)   No, he was not prepared to bribe people to follow him for the sake of what they could get out of it.
Likewise God calls us to a life of service and giving of ourselves, not of getting. The only way to true satisfaction is the way which has complete dependence on God.  Trusting in the Lord.

EMOTIONAL testing was his next challenge.  Sort of ‘Hey Jesus, you want to change the world – to make a difference – to see justice done – to help the poor – to set your people free – all you have to do is simply bow down right now and worship me. ‘  Temptation to indulge one’s feelings, one’s ego, to make oneself the centre of all things, to receive all glory and all praise and all power.   But Jesus stood firm, recalling Scripture  – “It is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him’ ”. (Deuteronomy 6:13, 10:20)

Then SPIRITUAL testing – on the pinnacle of the temple.   The devil tried hard – “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written – ‘He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you’.  And ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’  That’s from Psalm 91, the psalm set for today though we don’t read it in our Eucharist service.  What was the devil trying to put in Jesus’ mind?  – ‘Hey Jesus, you know God loves you. Your plan will sell a lot easier if people see that you are special to God. Throw yourself over the edge and let God save you from certain disaster – let his angels carry you up from the ground in the presence of the priests and teachers from the temple. You won’t have to go around from home to home then, preaching and healing people. You won’t have to work to convince people to follow your way – they’ll line up for miles just for a chance to see you.’
What an easy way!    But not the right way!     Was Jesus really being tempted to test God – to dare God to prove his love – to get God to use magic powers on his behalf that others would be impressed – that he may show to others his favoured status in the eyes of God?
Unfortunately I think the devil misinterpreted Psalm 91. The intention of Psalm 91 is not to incite people to use God’s power for sensational or foolish displays if they put themselves at risk, but to show God’s protection of his people. And to trust in him.
Jesus again retaliated with Scripture from Deuteronomy – “Do not put the Lord your God to the test” (6:16).

We will do well to be specially on our guard after every time we experience the highs in life, for it is then that we are in danger of the depths. It is in our deepest thoughts and desires that the tempter comes to test us too.
The very power of the devil is that he breaches our defences and attacks us from within, in our inmost thoughts. Jesus had to fight his battle – that is why he can help us to fight ours. So have faith and trust in him.

We know from the Gospels that this time of Jesus’ testing he endured   was not a one-off.  Our Gospel reading today foretells of that, it concludes “When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him, until an opportune time”.  Until an opportune time.

Temptation is a natural thing. It appeals to our natural impulses – both good and for bad. Temptation is also an easy thing – that’s a major part of its attraction. There is only one retaliation for it – that is focus – of faith and trust.
So we must keep aware.  Christ showed us the way – by rebuffing things that tempted him, with his focus on God; but as we know from our lives rebuffing temptation is not easy. So uphold faith, and trust in the Lord.

Timothy Dudley-Smith, retired Bishop of Thetford now aged 95, wrote over 400 hymns. We’ll be singing one of his hymns next which reminds us of this. Every verse is so meaningful  and I would encourage you to use the words of this hymn in your daily prayers during Lent. They are really strengthening words based on Psalms 57, 63, and 91, but especially Psalm 91 that I just talked about in the third temptation. (Ps 57:1, 63:6-7, 91:11-12).  “Safe in the shadow of the Lord…I trust in him, I trust in him, my fortress and my tower”.  Amen

Sandra Bentall, an Authorised Lay Minister for this Parish.

“Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground” (Jn 8.6)

(Ash Wednesday, 2^nd March 2022, All Saints, Hastings)

What did Jesus write in the dust of the ground? The immediate and obvious answer is that we do not know.  One suggestion is that Jesus was following the Roman custom of first writing down a sentence before pronouncing it.  In this interpretation Jesus was writing a sentence in the dust which could be then be wiped out.  Others have suggested that Jesus may have written a verse or verses from the Hebrew Scripture.

Exodus 23.7 is one such suggestion:

“Keep far from a false charge, and do not kill the innocent or those in the right, for I will not aquit the guilty.”

A lot of academic ink has been used in discussion the question of what it was that Jesus wrote in the dust but the immediate and obvious answer still stands: We do not know.

I have written in this month’s edition of the Parish Magazine about the significance of dust.  Perhaps the importance of Jesus writing or doodling in the dust is to be found not in his words or his doodle but in the dust itself.  His response to the accusers who have tried to trap him into denying the Law of Moses is that his fingers are in the dust and it is to the dust that we shall all return, accused and accusers alike.

Jesus insists that the accusers should only thow stones at the woman if they are themselves without sin.  Jesus again writes in the dust. None of them can make the declaration that they are without sin and they walk away.  “Dust thou art and to dust thou shalt return.”

The accused woman is then left alone with Jesus.  Just picture the scene and imagine, if you will, what it would have been like to stand there facing Jesus and awaiting his judgement.  Just two people are left, the Lord and the sinner.

Notice that the unnamed women has not denied the charge that she has had committed adultery and for which the punishment was death by stoning.  And notice too that that Jesus does not give a formal acquittal.  He simply refuses to judge.  Those with sin were only too swift to judge; He who was without sin and who is entitled to condemn does not judge.  But nor does he condone.

“Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.”  Imagine looking into the face of Jesus as he spoke those words.

On this first day of Lent, let us imagine ourselves standing before Jesus, conscious of our own sin and perhaps also of the way in which we are swift to judge and condemn others.

“Dust thou art and to dust shalt thou return.  Turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ.”

© Paul Hunt 2022

“And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image.” (2 Corinthians 3.19)

(The Sunday Next before Lent, 27^th February 2022, All Saints, Hastings.)

It is Christmas Eve and the worshippers are singing “Silent Night, Holy Night” by candlelight.  That might not seem anything unusual.

But the carol is being sung in Japanese and the haunting colour footage of Christmas Eve 1945 shows our Japanese brothers and sisters worshipping in the bombed out ruins of their cathedral in Nagasaki.  Centuries of fierce persecution in Japan have culminated in the destruction of their cathedral, finally completed in 1925, by the Christian West.

This morning’s Gospel reading tells of the Transfiguration which share its feast day of 6^th August with the date of the dropping of the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima.  In Matthew’s version, Jesus’ face shines like the sun and his garments become white as the light.  Just like those caught in the nuclear flashes in Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

The irony of the first atomic bomb being dropped on the feast day of the Transfiguration is beyond exquisite and I have commented on that before.  The test to split the atom by those Manhatten Project scientists in the Nevada desert was called the Trinity Test and, as the mushroom cloud rose at 5.30 a.m. on the 16^th July 1945, some of the scientists were physically sick.   They knew what they had done.  “Scientists have now known sin and this is a knowledge they cannot lose,” said the lead physicist Robert Oppenheimer.

Last Sunday’s Old Testament reading told of Adam and Eve and their fall from Grace, in other words the breaking of their relationship with God.  Humanity in its pride tries to make itself as God and the biting of the apple is an anticipation of the decision to split the atom, becoming like God knowing good and evil.  It is the same story re-enacted for our times.

But St Paul in today’s epistle gives us an extraordinary and astonishing hope. 

“And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image.” (2 Corinthians 3.19)

Paul writes that we too shall be transfigured, that we too shall grow and be transformed into the likeness of Christ through our experience of suffering and forgiveness.  Each day we progress or regress in our growing and transformation.  How do we respond to suffering within ourselves and to the suffering of others?  Do we nurture the spirit of forgiveness within us or do we use the language of forgiveness but inwardly nurture the spirit of resentment.  Shall we, like Moses on Mount Sinai, gaze upon the Lord with unveiled and unmasked faces and see God face-to-face?

As I have said on a previous occasion, we need to think of the Transfiguration of Christ as being like the trailer for a film.  It is an anticipation of what is to come.  The disciples cannot grasp that Jesus will suffer before He enters into His Glory, that indeed the suffering is itself essential to His Glorification, such is the moral grandeur of the act of redemption.

“And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image.”

Are our faces veiled or unveiled?  Are our minds hardened like those Israelites to whom Moses spoke?  Or do we take the Christian hope of our future transfiguration seriously and act with what st Paul calls real boldness:

“Since, then, we have such a hope, we act with great boldness,” St. Paul tells the Corinthian Christians.

Or do we remain veiled in our stubborness and human pride trusting, ultimately, in our own judgement, just like Adam and Eve and those scientists in the Nevada desert.

The Christians of Japan can teach us about suffering and the capacity for forgiveness.

On the shining faces of those Nagasaki Christians, illuminated by the candlelight on that Christmas Eve in 1945, what do we see?

• The sinfulness of humanity?
• Or the bold and hopeful anticipation of the Glory that is to come?

“Fulfiller of the past,

  Promise of things to be,

  We hail thy body glorified,

  And our redemption see.”

© Paul Hunt 2022

A Sermon by Keith Leech, Authorised Lay Minister

I remember when I became a lay minister. My daughter sent me a message to be like Jesus. It said ‘be humble, look after the poor, give glory to God and fall asleep in boats’. So I can’t now listen to this morning’s gospel reading without laughing.

The Bible is not a book as such; it is a library of sixty-six books including histories, stories, visions, prophecies and songs collected over a period of around 1500 years. In today’s readings we have a story from Genesis, an historical account from Luke, and a vision from Revelation; with Genesis being written about 950 BC, Luke about 85 AD and Revelation about 90 AD.  The three readings knit together quite well showing us firstly(Genesis) that we have responsibility for our actions, secondly (St Luke) we should not be afraid because Jesus will always look after us and keep us safe and thirdly (Revelation) we should give praise to God the most high the most holy and be thankful now and forever.  

That the books of the Bible are not all the same type, (stories, histories, prophecies etc) doesn’t diminish them. It enhances the whole Bible. What we need to do is drill down into the meaning of what the author of each book has written. The books were all inspired by the Holy Spirit. We do however need to discern what God is saying to us through them and that is where Bible study, discussion, theology (and sermons) come in.

Genesis was traditionally written by Moses, except Moses cannot be the author (or certainly not the sole author and most no longer say he did).  This is because Genesis describes some things written after his death. It refers to The Chaldeans who were some years later and the City of Dan that was not even built. One thing we can say for sure is that the forbidden fruit is not an apple. The legend of it being an apple came from St Jerome who in the vulgate Latin version of the Bible translates the Hebrew Peri to the Latin for Apple Malus. Malus also meaning evil in Latin and therefore St Jerome was embellishing his translation or simply playing with the words.

 We know the Book of Luke was written by Saint Luke, a companion of St Paul and possibly written in prison in Malta. You can visit it still where there is a cave under a church in Rabat just outside the walls of Medina.

Revelation is the account of a vision by somebody who is called John on the island of Patmos. This John is almost certainly not the same John as wrote the Gospel or Epistle with the same name.

I will briefly look at each reading today in turn.

In Genesis the tree of knowledge of good and evil is a parable about free will. Without it we would not be human. We are the only living thing that is able to discern between good and evil, other living things act purely on biology and instinct. A lion has no compassion for its prey; it has an instinct to eat and simply sees food. Although we might think of covid as evil a covid virus doesn’t even know it exists, let alone have evil intent. This is what sets us above other living things and makes us special in God’s sight. We have been given knowledge, the special privilege to be able to see what is right and wrong, to have love, compassion, humility; the ability to act on things. We have been given responsibility and therefore also the knowledge that our actions have consequences. This is where the teachings of the Bible point us towards which things have good consequences and which bad. The Bible is God’s roadmap.

I know many women who get upset about the story of being formed from Adam’s rib. In Jewish teaching (particularly of that time) the heart was considered to be the centre of the body and the rib is the closest part of the body to the heart. Therefore God choosing a rib, from near to the heart, not the head or the foot it is not a sign of inferiority but a sign of female equality to the male being taken from the most important part of the body.

In Luke we have an account of an event, Jesus is asleep. He is awoken by the disciples and is either annoyed or sad that they felt they had to waken Him because they were so afraid of the sea and had insufficient faith that He would protect them. He told the wind and waves to stop; one of the miracles. This shows us that even if we think that Jesus is asleep He is looking after us

Moving to Revelation everything in heaven is singing constantly Holy Holy Holy Lord who was, who is, and is to become. That is praise to God the Trinity (three Holys) for all eternity past, present and future. 

The message is everything should praise God for eternity for without His creation there is nothing.   Many Christians have worship at the core of their services. I am often struck when I visit other denominations by how many hymns they have, sometimes three in a row. This is not our style (and that is fine) but should we not perhaps consider a greater worship focus in what we personally do?  Not collectively but personally. Worship is there in the liturgy but how do we as individuals approach it?  Some of us bow when we say the words ‘Jesus Christ’, some bow to the altar or genuflect to the presence after the consecration of the elements, some raise their hands to give glory to God…something I personally find difficult to do.

Perhaps we should consider how we are personally worshipping God not only in this place but everywhere at all times. Don’t worry about what other people think. If you feel moved to bow, to genuflect to raise your hands to heaven or simply shout ‘Glory to God’ then do it.  It’s between you and God.  We bring our bodies as well as our minds into our worship.

In summary our actions have consequences (Genesis), trust God to look after you (Luke) and praise Him as often as you can. (Revelation)

Holy Holy Holy Lord God Almighty who was, who is, and is to become’

Ok I’m off to have a sleep in a boat.

Amen

If Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has been in vain and your faith has been in vain.  (I Cor. 15.14)

(Third Sunday before Lent, 13^th February 2022, All Saints, Hastings)

“On the third day he rose again in accordance with the Scriptures..”

“Revealed the resurrection by rising to new life..”

“Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.”

“Rejoicing in his mighty resurrection..”

These are all proclamations from our service on this and every Sunday morning.  Indeed, the Lord’s Resurrection is the very reason we meet on this first day of the week.

The question I would like us to consider this morning is this: How seriously do we make our proclamation?  I ask this because I sometimes detect a degree of embarrassment amongst Christians when they mention the Resurrection (or indeed anything supernatural) to non-Christians, assuming they mention the supernatural at all.

Judging from the pages of the Church Times, our bishops are forever making statements on everything from dangerous cladding on buildings to the Government’s levelling up agenda.  Churches are featured that seem to justify their existence in terms of their food bank operation or work with the homeless.  Please don’t misunderstand me here.  Christianity is an incarnational religion with an imperative in the Bible to help the poor.  So all these things are right and proper and Christian.  As St. James reminds us, “Faith without works is dead.”  But Christian faith is not simply a call to be a voluntary branch of the Social Services dressed in a light religious veneer.

There was hesitation about belief in the Resurrection amongst some of the Corinthian Christians:

“Now if Christ is proclaimed as raised from the dead, how can some of you say there is no resurrection of the dead?” St. Paul asks them.

Do read the verses in chapter fifteen immediately before today’s lectionary selection.  St. Paul is writing only some twenty years or so after the Resurrection of Jesus – about the same distance in time as between us and the start of the century – and he cites various resurrection appearances of Jesus.  Some of the witnesses are still alive, says St. Paul.  In other words, “if you don’t believe me, ask them!”  And he also uses a particularly significant Greek word to indicate the careful passing down of tradition.  Don’t forget that St. Paul is writing before the Gospels were written in the form we now have them.

Now it would be easy at this point to simply list reasons why we should believe the New Testament witness to the Resurrection.  We might say, for example, that it is noticeable that none of the writers actually describe the moment of the Resurrection, resisting the temptation of later writers.  We might say that it makes no psychological sense for disciples like James and John and Peter to allow themselves to be put to death for something that they knew was untrue.  And if the first Christians really were trying to cook the books, why are there significant discrepencies between the Gospel accounts?

In terms of modern writers we might refer to the journalist Frank Morrison who set out to disprove the Resurrection narratives in the Gospels.  By the time he finished his book, he had turned from atheist to believer.  His classic book Who Moved The Stone? remains in print ninety years after its publication in 1930.

Or we might think of the Hungarian Jewish scholar Pinchas Lapide who is his 1984 book The Resurrection of Jesus: A Jewish Perspective would have none of the watering down sometimes found in radical Christian writing.  He does not accept that Jesus was a divine messiah but he accepts that God raised one of his prophets from the dead.

The very great German theologian Wolfhart Pannenberg has defended the historicity of the Resurrection with immense vigour, challenging the unspoken and usually unrecognised secular notions that define what is and is not possible.

Just think for a moment about the academic tools of the historian which are designed to analyse and understand the workings of our everyday natural world – Why did William win the Battle of Hastings? for example.  Just suppose that the Resurrection did take place.  If so, are those academic tools equipped to analyse and understand something that by definition is beyond the natural order of things?  And, if they were able to do so, would that event really be supernatural?

My sermon is in danger of turning into an academic lecture.  I’m simply trying to make the point that we can all too easily adjust our way of thinking about what is and is not possible without realising that we are uncritically accepting a whole host of philosophical assumptions about the way in which the world works.  And as a wise Dominican monk once said to me: Once you accept the very idea of God, then surely everything else is possible.

Now, I’m not suggesting that we become a church of snake handlers and weekly healing miracles like some churches in the deep south of the Untied States and doubtless elsewhere.  But I am saying that as a church we must remain open to the supernatural, not least the Resurrection of Jesus, in a way that smacks of conviction rather than embarrassment.   The Resurrection is not just for Easter Day!

We are surrounded by Memorials to the dead, both here at All Saints and in St. Clement’s.

 St. Paul again: “If Christ has not been raised…then those who have died in Christ have perished.  If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.”

 “But”, he continues, ”Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who have died.”

So let our proclamation be at one with that of St John of Damascus in the eighth century:

“The day of resurrection!

Earth tell it out abroad;

The Passover of gladness,

The Passover of God,

From death to life eternal,

From earth unto the sky,

Our God hath brought us over

With hymns of victory.

Now let the heavens be joyful,

And earth her song begin,

The round world keep high triumph,

And all that is therein;

Let all things seen and unseen

Their notes of gladness blend,

For Christ the Lord is risen,

Our joy that hath no end.”

© Paul Hunt 2022

The Seventieth Anniversary of the Accession of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

“But I am among you as one who serves” (Luke 22.27)

(All Saints, Hastings, 6^th February 2022)

1952. Seventy years ago. Mr Churchill was the Prime Minister again.  British troops were in Korea. The first TV detector van made its appearance as did Sooty and Sweep and the Flower Pot Men.  Tea rationing was ended after thirteen years.  The first performance of The Mousetrap was given.  And, most regrettably, Newcastle beat Arsenal 1-0 in the FA Cup Final.

1952 is a very long time ago and I would ask you to reflect just how very different the UK and the world were.  At the very least, we will need to be approaching eighty to remember the death of George VI at the age of fifty-six and the Coronation in the following year. And we need to be over eighty to recall Her Majesty’s words in a radio broadcast on the twenty-first birthday of the then Princess Elizabeth, delivered from South Africa in 1947:

“I declare before you all that my whole life whether it be long or short shall be devoted to your service and the service of our great imperial family to which we all belong.  But I shall not have strength to carry out this resolution alone unless you join in it with me, as I now invite you to do: I know that your support will be unfailingly given. God help me to make good my vow, and God bless all of you who are willing to share in it.”

How magnificently has that declaration and promise been kept, following the example of Jesus who declared that he was among us as one who serves.

Her Majesty takes the words of Jesus Christ very seriously and we have seen this many times in her Christmas broadcasts in which she is never embarrassed to express her Christian faith.  It is has been my privilege and that of Canon Keith Pound also of this parish to have served the Queen as priests.  The main advice that I was given upon becoming what is called a Priest-in-Ordinary was simple: “Remember,” said the sub-Dean, “that it is Mam as in jam and never Marm as in smarm.”  Her Majesty is, of course, the Supreme Governor of the Church of England – not the Head as is mindlessly repeated in the media – and Her Majesty takes this duty seriously.

As a liturgical traditionalist, I am pleased to report that the Queen prefers the traditional worship of the Book of Common Prayer and Her Majesty also has a preference for Mattins which remains the choral service on most Sundays in the Chapels Royal.

Today’s Gospel reading speaks to us of duty and service, two concepts that have lost their resonance for many people in a society that encourages adulation of the Self.

Duty and Service.  Jesus reminds his hearers – both 2,000 years ago and this morning -that some people in authority like to lord it over others.   And this attitude also infects the church which ought to know better.  Elsewhere in the Gospels, James and John, who also really ought to know better, ask Jesus for places of the highest possible honour in the Kingdom of God.

Let’s think about public service today and the attitude towards it.  For a minority there is the temptation to exploit public service for private gain, be it financial or in terms of power and self-promotion.

But service and duty are not dirty words to be associated with those whose chief aim is self-serving.

Her Majesty has seen hundreds of government ministers come and go, including (according to my calculation) fourteen Prime Ministers from Mr Churchill to Mr Johnson.  And I would say this: Politics is an honourable calling despite the reluctance of a small minority who seek to lord it over others and whose duty and service is only to themselves.

At local level, we know that a good councillor is one whose sense of duty is to the community that he or she serves and not to self-advancement.  And during the pandemic we have, hopefully, become far more aware of the strong sense of duty and service, often in the most difficult of circumstances, of those we now call ‘key workers’.

Duty and service is something to which we are all called.

Duty and service are powerful ways in which to challenge and change a world that all too often disdains or does not recognise those virtues.

Duty and service.  We have representatives of diverse community groups present this morning.  Much of this community service will be voluntary and perhaps at unsocial hours.  And I would say this.  You may sometimes feel unappreciated, exhausted and taken for granted.  You are in a sense the true “Secret Service”.  Duty towards God and our communities, the love and service offered to our neighbours, is the highest of callings in imitation of Jesus Christ.  To be a servant is not degrading in a Downton Abbey kind of way.

Lord Kerslake, the former Head of the Civil Service – note the name of the organisation – said these words recently in the context of the current investigations into events in Downing Street:

“In my experience the vast majority of civil servants desperately want to do the right thing and follow the rules. They take pride in public service and strive to live by the values of the civil service of honesty, integrity, objectivity and impartiality. This doesn’t make them perfect but standards do matter.”

“Pride in public service.”  “Standards do matter.”

The leader must become like one who serves said Jesus.  “I am among you as one who serves.”

On this platinum anniversary of Her Majesty’s Accession, let us give thanks for her seventy years of exemplary and faithful duty and service to our nation in fulfilment of that vow made by that twenty-one year old princess  in South Africa.

Let us reflect on the call of the young Princess Elizabeth for us to join her in a life of duty and service.

Let us also reflect on our duty to our families, neighbours and communities and pledge ourselves to the true service of others in the footsteps, not only of Her Majesty the Queen, but of Jesus Christ who came not to be served but to serve and who gave his life as a ransom for many.

©Paul Hunt 2022

A Sermon by Mrs Sandra Bentall, Authorised Lay Minister

Two weeks ago we were celebrating the birth of the Christ child;   last week we recalled the visit of the wise men, and today we celebrate Christ’s baptism. But this was not the baptism of a baby as 30 years have passed to today’s Gospel reading and we encounter Jesus as he begins his ministry. Apart from a brief passage in Luke’s Gospel telling of Jesus’ visit to Jerusalem at the age of 12, we know nothing at all about the intervening years.
Now, Jesus’ baptism as a man  leads us to realise that 90% of his life was not spent in the limelight. But those mostly missing 30 years years   seem to be just as important to us as the three years we know more about, because they bring home to us that Jesus does indeed know what it’s like to walk in the ordinariness of daily life.  God is with us in our often humdrum reality of everyday.

As we heard in the Gospel of Luke,

 “in the wilderness John proclaimed a baptism of repentance” – Repent means ‘to turn’ implying a change in behaviour, and so turning from sin toward God. 

Jesus chose to be baptised in the waters of the River Jordan by his cousin John, joining with those people who were repenting for forgiveness of their sin.  We recall this in our baptism liturgies.

What happened next?  After Jesus had been baptised by John, Luke’s Gospel tells us that   as Jesus was praying “the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased.”
This is one of the places in Scripture where all 3 persons of the Trinity are present and active – God the Father speaks, God the Son is baptised, and God the Holy Spirit descends on Jesus.

That Jesus is God’s divine Son is the foundation for all we read about in the 4 Gospels.   We see the ministry of Jesus begin with an act – and with a sign.
An act of love and a sign of God’s compassion.  The baptism of Christ is the act which begins his ministry – the event which commences the process of proclaiming the good news of salvation, the start of a career of ministry which ends in our redemption.

Our own public baptism is similarly our sacramental recognition of entry into a new life   in and with Christ   and to follow him.  

Do you remember anything about your baptism?  The chances are NO.  Most of us were baptised as babies and our parents and godparents made promises and set the scene for our own Christian journey, which we then confirmed for ourselves at our own Confirmation. Baptism is a great gift from God to us. Baptism is God’s doing, not ours. It is God who causes us to be born anew  in a new life in Christ. It is God who fills us with his Spirit, as he did Jesus coming up out of the river water. God is the Light of the World who ignites the light of love in our hearts. At Baptisms now, a lighted candle is presented with the words  “.. receive this light. God has delivered us from the dominion of darkness and has given us a place with the saints in light. You have received the light of Christ; walk in this light all the days of your life. Shine as a light in the world to the glory of God the Father ”

So most of us, if not all of us, would not remember anything about our baptism. Jesus would not have forgotten his baptism and the affirmation that he was the Messiah.  

As you entered church this morning, most of you by the main South door as you do every Sunday, what did you walk past?    Anyone?    You walked by the Font.   It’s not just for those BEING baptised when the congregation says  “We welcome you”.   It is a constant reminder both of the dignity of Christian baptism as a Gospel Sacrament, and of our own entry into the Church, in whichever church building it was, through baptism, when first we were received into the worldwide congregation of Christ’s flock.   Even though most of us would not be able to remember our own baptism,   let walking past the font in both of our churches,   provoke us to continue to walk in the newness of life.

I would encourage you to make that weekly walk a deliberate act of walking past the font, and so part of your regular spirituality.  Let it remind us of Christ’s baptism; Jesus would not have forgotten it. 
Let the font remind us that we have been given the Spirit of holiness, and that we can re-flect the Light of Christ.

Which brings us to today’s celebration with Christingles, and a reminder of so many imageries.

Thanks to Maggie and Rose and anyone else who was there, for making the Christingles yesterday though some of us could not assist as we were at a service in Chichester Cathedral.

So what are Christingles?
Primarily as a visual reminder that Christ is the Light who came into the world. It is suggested your Christingle is placed on your dining table as you remember, every mealtime,  what it means to you, and the sharing of God’s love around the world.  As The Children’s Society encourages Christingles as a worldwide project promoting its work amongst children and young people, remember them and their work at every mealtime and try and put a coin or two into the Children’s Society envelope for the next couple of weeks or so. Some of you were given a Children’s Society donation envelope or cardboard candle last week, and some this week, and we shall be grateful to receive these back in the Offertory Plate today or in the next two weeks.

Shall we look more closely at a Christingle to help us remember its significance?

First of all the ORANGE – it is round like the world we live in. It means that God’s love is for everybody, everywhere.

The RED RIBBON  goes all around the world. It is a symbol of Jesus’ blood he shed when he died for us, a reminder that he died for the people of the world.

The CANDLE stands tall and straight and symbolises Jesus as the Light of the World. He talked about himself as light coming into a dark place. He brought people God’s love into the world in a new way. “I am the Light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8 v12)

The FOUR STICKS point in all directions representing North, South, East, and West, another symbol that God’s love is for everyone. They also represent the four seasons, each playing its part in providing the food and sustenance we need to live.  Some people think of the four sticks representing the four Gospels from which we read every week and follow Christ’s teachings.

The DRIED FRUIT AND SWEETS remind us of the fruits of the earth, representing God’s gifts to the world including kindness and love.

But what about THE FOIL?  Is it there just to catch the drips as they fall away from the candle?
Perhaps it can remind us that WE are here to catch any people who might be wavering away from Christ, and we can encourage them back into the fold.
That foil has another function too – it reflects the candle light. Just as we are called to reflect the light of Christ.  
If the foil was flat like a mirror then it  – would reflect the light perfectly.  But it’s not, is it?
The foil is a bit crumpled, perhaps like us sometimes, and the image we reflect may not always be perfect in the way that we’d wish. But we are created in God’s image and we reflect the glory of his Son, Jesus.

And so, may we be as candles and shine out, and may others see the light of Christ in us – in what we say and do – and so be drawn to Him, to follow Christ the Light of the World. Amen

A Sermon by Dr Pat Lock

Epiphany 2^nd January 2022 St Clement

Before I retired I worked as a headteacher in Primary schools and I have either produced or watched endless Nativity plays.  I know all the jokes, have seen the comedy of errors – the innkeeper who says yes, those who have fallen asleep on stage, those who have picked their noses in the middle of the angels singing, and Mary who hit Joseph with the baby Jesus.  But the Kings surpass them all – one gift left behind, one King in the toilet, another tripping over his cloak, crowns askew and of course – Frankenstein, not Frankincense.

One of the best, but more unusual ones came from the second King in one play.  The task was simple: come out on stage, place your gift at the foot of the manger, turn to the audience, and tell them the name of their gift. One word. There was a pause, as this second child wasn’t sure of his cue.  He looked terrified, and slowly made his way on stage.  He placed his gift at the foot of the manger, turned  around, braced himself, and remembering all the rehearsal instructions about speaking loud and clear, he said, “Frank sent this”.  

Epiphany marks the manifestation of the light of God’s revelation in the Incarnation. The whole word is Biblically set and there were different manifestations of Christ’s glory and divinity celebrated throughout history. In the past faithful saints reflected on Christ’s baptism, the miracle at Cana, the Nativity, and of course the visit of the Magi.  The Magi was, after all, an astral, star-led quest. It fulfilled Numbers 24:17, “A Star shall come out of Jacob; A Sceptre shall rise out of Israel.”

The word, “Epiphany” is found in the Greek New Testament and It means “give light, shine on” or “be manifested, appear.   So what has this got to do with me and my world today?  Everything. We are starting off a New Year and it is time to bring Epiphany into our daily lives.

The persons here denoted were philosophers, priests, or astronomers. They lived chiefly in Persia and Arabia. They were the learned men of the Eastern nations. Devoted to astronomy, to religion, and to medicine. They were held in high esteem by the Persian court and were admitted as counsellors, and advisors. These men were not Jews, but they knew about the Jewish Messiah to be born.  We don’t get any details about the wise men’s trip, but they arrive together at their destination.  And to arrive together, they had to be committed to discerning the path , to sticking together, and to wait and listen to each other.  

The first thing we hear about them is their question upon arriving in Jerusalem, “Where is he that is born King of the Jews?”  And they say that men never ask for directions!  Well wise men do!   The wise men are not deluded by any exaggerated sense of their own intelligence.  Their journey represents the searching, the longing and desire of all people, looking for something more, longing for a better world, seeking to know.  Wise men and women ask and seek and knock.  They bring with them, first of all, not gifts, but a question.  The questions of our hearts and minds, the quests of our lives, these are the first things we all have and bring, and these find their answer in the Word of God, and in the Word made flesh. 

These Magi, these Great ones,  were overwhelmed, and overcome, by the grace and dignity of this humble child born of common parents.  They found Jesus in the humblest of circumstances, but even in this infant, they recognised something royal and divine .  As odd as it may have been for Shepherds to be looking around in barns and mangers for Christ the Lord, it was odder still for these noble wise men to seek for a King in a backwater Jewish town, born to humble parents of a conquered and oppressed people.  

The Magi recognised the Messiah King by the light of a star while Herod missed it completely. A babe in a manger. God stripped away all his power and pyrotechnics, and made His message as simple and low-tech as possible so we couldn’t miss the meaning: Jesus is God made. And God’s message of salvation was intended for all people

The wise men were on a journey – a journey with a purpose. A journey that led them to Jesus. We too are on a journey – a journey throughout our lifetime that leads us to Jesus and our real Epiphany will be at the end of our earthly lives when we come face to face with the Son of God.  That will be an Epiphany with fireworks! But we all also have leading stars in our own personal lives – people, experiences, nudges, and wake-up calls, that God has used to lead us on the right path. And when we look on these and recognise in them the providence of God, we, too, will rejoice with exceeding joy.   For these Wise men, this was the most important journey they would ever take. Nobody …. nothing was going to stand between them and following that star. They made a dramatic commitment of time to search for this new king. There is a wonderful message here for us. They put feet to their faith, …. and commenced a journey.  When God presents us with a new opportunity, …. are we willing to get up ….. and begin a journey of faith?  The story of the Wise Kings helps us to see that there is something special …. something remarkable ….. that awaits us at the end of the journey.

Matthew gives us three main verbs to describe the activity of the wise men: they came, they saw, they worshipped. And I hope and pray that that is the story of the journey of your life today.   How, then, can we be wise men and wise women? The first way is to ask for directions, to ask and seek and knock. The second way is to search the Scriptures, for in them we find God’s answers to our quests and questions.  Finally, the wise men worshipped.  They found what they had been looking for in Jesus Christ.  For all human desire and aspiration has its end in the knowledge and love of God in Jesus.

Let’s note, first off, that they give Jesus the very best.  Too often, what we offer to God is the leftovers, but these wise people give him their very best. And so should we. We offer the gold of our money, the incense of our prayers, and the myrrh of our sins, to our King and God and Saviour. More generally, we may think of the Gold of Obedience, the Incense of Worship, and the Myrrh of the Saviour, which we all have and can offer to Jesus our King and God and Saviour. Saint Paul writes about the unsearchable riches of Christ.  The wise men brought their expensive gifts, their treasures,  but they recognised in Jesus the most valuable thing in the world. They saw and knew and honoured and worshipped in him their King and God and Saviour.  In Jesus, they recognised the King of Kings, the Prince of Peace and the Saviour who would die for them and for many, for the forgiveness of sins.  

In the end, it is not so much about what they offered Jesus, but what they knew that Jesus offered to them and to all the world, the Salvation and Kingdom of God.  

How do we live in a wisemen’s world when we are surrounded by suffering in the world? How do we believe in the power and presence of Jesus Christ when so much godless and sinful activity surrounds us and brings pain and suffering into our lives? We continue to follow the star that always leads to Christ and we repeatably come back to the manger.

Epiphany is that change of vision that turns us into wise men: the realisation that what you thought needed to be silenced is the voice you most need to hear.

Epiphany is realising that when Christ broke the bread on the last night it was because his death was not a failure but a triumph, the overcoming of the very fear that was putting him to death.

Epiphany is when you realise that your fears were misplaced, and the things that seemed to threaten the way of life you held dear are actually the things that are most to be valued.

Epiphany is when you realise that all the rest of the world has got it wrong and is away focussed on other tasks at the time they most needed to be aware of the starlight.

Epiphany is when the light of God shines, so where others see failure we see wonder. Where they see something to hate we see something to love. Where they see human degradation we see the incarnation, the ultimate sacrifice, the Christ who shares our life and death in pain and sorrow

Epiphany leads us to look for the star glowing, even where others cannot see it. He is in the stable, where the homeless are giving birth in misery. He is in the boats where the refugees are trying to cross the sea to safety. He is in the mothers’ arms as they cradle their babies running from forest fires and floods. He is in the queue at the food bank. He is outside the school gate, being sent home with the wrong uniform. He is at the hospital desk where he cannot be seen. He is in the areas of our world where children beg for food.

Let us be people of the Epiphany. Let us live in a world lit up by the star,  by hearing that message of salvation. We must see with the eyes of faith. We must live in the Epiphany. We will be changed, travelling another way, transformed by our encounter with Jesus.  

The manger is for life . We too need to rise up and follow the star wherever God takes us.

Come and bring whatever gift you have for your simple gift is like gold to God.  In return he will give you the crown of life. There is no greater gift than the Prince of Peace, the son of God himself. The word made flesh. And that is our Epiphany.

St. Stephen’s Day

(St. Clement’s, Hastings, 26^th December 2021)

When I was a child I spoke like a child and I thought like a child and I reasoned like a child and so I thought that Boxing Day was so called because I once saw a boxing match on the television on that day.  It was many years later that I discovered that the 26^th December took its popular name because it was on this day that the poor boxes were opened in church and the money distributed to the poor.  However, for most people today will be about relatives, cold turkey (in a gastronomic sense) and perhaps an afternoon walk or even a visit to the pantomime.  In that connection I note that the University of Staffordshire has launched a Masters degree in Pantomime Studies.  On no, they haven’t.  Oh, yes they have!

But today is St. Stephen’s Day and I rather fear that he is always rather left out liturgically.  However, as readers of Going to Church in Medieval England will know, it was a very popular saint’s day in the Middle Ages, not least because of the opening of the poor boxes.  Together with St. John’s Day (tomorrow) and Holy Innocents’ Day on the 28^th, St. Stephen’s Day was a major festival and good King Wenceslas might well have looked out.

Therefore, Christian men, be sure
Wealth or rank possessing
Ye, who now will bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing.

Indeed, the whole period from Christmas Day to Epiphany was one long celebration.  Alas, Boxing Day can be a bit of an anti-climax and St. Stephen barely gets a look in.  And I suspect that even some churches will not be holding a service today and some of those that are holding a service will be keeping it as the First Sunday after Christmas rather than as the Feast of Stephen.

So let’s think this morning about St. Stephen and make amends of sorts for the way in which he is neglected.  In our reading from Acts were heard of Stephen’s martyrdom when he became the first martyr of the Christian Church.  We also heard that Saul, better known as St. Paul, was one of the instigators and approved of the stoning.  Who knows, but perhaps in retrospect Stephen’s witness began Paul’s process of conversion in advance of his experience on the Damascus Road.  It only occurred to me when writing this sermon that Paul never refers directly to the death of Stephen in his letters; perhaps he was too ashamed.  After all, we all have aspects of our past that we would prefer to forget.

Less well remembered than his martyrdom is Stephen’s ministry as a deacon.  He was one of the first seven deacons to be appointed by the Apostles and their work was to distribute food and other necessities to the poor.  This was to allow the apostles to be able to spend more time praying and preaching.  I presume that Stephen’s ministry to the poor is the reason why the poor boxes were opened on his feast day.

“Then the twelve called the multitude of the disciples unto them, and said, It is not reasonable that we should leave the word of God, and serve tables.

Wherefore, brethren, look ye out among you seven men of honest report, full of the Holy Ghost and wisdom, whom we may appoint over this business.

But we will give ourselves continually to prayer, and to the ministry of the word.

 And the saying pleased the whole multitude: and they chose Stephen, a man full of faith and of the Holy Ghost, and Philip, and Prochorus, and Nicanor, and Timon, and Parmenas, and Nicolas a proselyte of Antioch:

Whom they set before the apostles: and when they had prayed, they laid their hands on them. (Acts 6.2-6)

The apostles are remembered but the deacons are not.

Much of our Christian work is unglamorous and unseen by our brothers and sisters.  I like to think of St. Stephen as the patron saint of unremembered Christians: Unremembered, that is, by their fellow Christians.  For, like Stephen, they are remembered by God.

© Paul Hunt 2021

“Do not be afraid; behold, I bring you news of great joy.”

(Luke 2.10)

(Christmas, St Clement’s Hastings 2021)

What is your earliest memory of Christmas?  I think that mine comes from when I was five or six and Christmas Eve was being spent in an unfamiliar house where I was put to bed.  Someone kept coming into the bedroom and telling me stories about Father Christmas who, so I was assured, would be coming into the room that night.

Now even at that young age I knew that Santa Claus didn’t really exist.  I knew that he was really the school caretaker, having made the connection between ‘S’ and ‘C’ for ‘School Caretaker’ and ‘S’ and ‘C’ in Santa Claus.  It was so obvious that I couldn’t really understand why nobody else made the connection.  But I didn’t like the idea of the school caretaker coming into my bedroom and so I started crying.

So in an attempt to keep me quiet, the teller of tales promised to bring me some of my presents from under the tree.  The first present turned out to be a handkerchief – and so I continued crying.  Next up was a pair of socks.  Realising by this time that I was on to a good thing, I continued crying.  The third gift turned out to be a pop-up Nativity book.  I stopped crying and read it avidly, thus begining an interest in theology and probably why I am standing here today!

Now we will all be able to recall particular Christmases, good or bad, happy and unhappy.  There is a certain nostalgia about Christmas and we try to recapture something of the magic of Christmas past, especially those of our childhood.  Perhaps some of the occasional disappointment of Christmas – if we are honest with ourselves – is to be found in our failure to do so.

We think too of that first Christmas in Bethlehem two thousand years ago.

But the meaning of that first Christmas is as much about the future as it is about the past.  The Nativity we celebrate was only the beginning.

The infant who was laid in the manger was later to be nailed to a cross and laid in a tomb.  And part of the promise of Christmas, all too easily forgotten, is that this same Jesus will come again as judge and king.

“Do not be afraid; behold, I bring you news of great joy.” On that first Christmas night, the shepherds rejoiced, not simply because they had seen a babe lying in a manger, but because they had glimpsed something of the future in the angels’ song – peace on earth, goodwill amongst men.  Hope for the future.

“Do not be afraid; behold, I bring you news of great joy.”  On that first Christmas night, Mary pondered these things in her heart, not because she could see into the future, but because she sensed that the birth of her son was to be the turning point in the future of humanity.

“Do not be afraid; behold, I bring you news of great joy.”  As a society we are fearful of the future: Climate change, pandemic, wars and rumours of wars.  And so we seek refuge in the past, in nostalgia when everything seemed secure and happy, dare I say like a small child at Christmas?

But on that first Christmas night, God entered into human history in the person of Jesus Christ.  In Jesus Christ, God takes humanity to Himself, the good and the bad, the happy and the unhappy, our hopes and fears.

“O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.

That is why as Christians we should face the future with confidence.  Christmas is about the future more than it is about the past.

“Do not be afraid; behold, I bring you news of great joy.”

So as we raise our glasses this Christmas, let us indeed raise our glass to Christmas past, to the remembrance of those whom we still love but see no longer, and especially to that first Christmas two thousand years ago.  But let us also raise our glasses to the future.  That is the test of real Christmas faith and Christmas joy.

© Paul Hunt 2021

A Sermon by Keith Leech, Authorised Lay Minister

My soul doth magnify the Lord.

In today’s gospel from Luke we have a real treat. The Magnificat. The Song of Mary.  or the Canticle of Mary, in the eastern tradition, the Ode of the Theotokos .  Theotokos meaning in Greek literally the God bearer.

 I remember as a boy chorister singing The Magnificat every week at sung evensong.  The Magnificat was put into evensong by Thomas Cranmer, when he put together the Book of Common Prayer. This has made this great hymn a part of the Anglican tradition.  It is one of the most ancient hymns of praise we have. I must admit that liberal moderniser that I am I find the modern language from today’s passage lacking compared to the translation in the King James Bible.

It is loaded with meaning and in it Mary shows a depth of knowledge of scripture one wouldn’t expect from one so young. So much so that some say it would have been impossible for Mary to write it herself. Others feel that this diminishes Mary and that God would have chosen somebody who knew the scriptures well to carry His son.  She wasn’t just any young woman, she had all the qualities required for such an important task.  Theotokos…The God Bearer.   Nothing less than bearing and bringing the Saviour of the world into being.  She was the instrument of the incarnation which we will be celebrating later this week at Christmas, and affirm every week in the words of the Creed.  For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven, was incarnate of the Holy Spirit and was made man. You may notice some of us bow at this point this is to acknowledge the incarnation, not bowing to Mary as some may think.

The word Christmas by the way comes from the Saxon interpretation of the Greek and Latin Cristes-messe. The mass of Christ. The Messiah’s Eucharist. The great meeting  of thanksgiving for the Messiah. Most other languages simply refer to The Nativity. In Greek it is literally translated as Christ Birth.  It gives us an indication of the importance given to Christmas by our forebears and may in part explain why it has become such a big festival in English speaking nations for both the Church and the secular world.

Elsewhere Luke also tells us of The Annunciation, the words of which are used in that great ancient prayer The Angelus (sadly not used so often these days).

The Annunciation starts with the words of the Angel Gabriel to Mary …in the King James version. “Hail Mary full of grace”.  In the new International version more simply “Greetings Mary you are highly favoured”. The angel goes on to say. “Do not be afraid; you have found favour with God.  You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus.  He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”

“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”  This echoes Isaiah 7.14 Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: A young woman will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Emmanuel.

The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God.  Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month.  For no word from God will ever fail.”

“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.”  In the King James version she says she is the ‘handmaid of the Lord’.  A handmaid was a very lowly servant who in that society could be used to bear the seed of the master as Hagar did for Abraham and Sara.

By the door in this church is a copy of Rossetti’s  Ecce Ancilla Domini. The Annunciation. Here his brother William represents the Angel Gabriel and the part of Mary is played by his sister Christina who wrote In the Bleak Midwinter. It is worth noting that in this depiction Mary is just getting up, not at prayer as is often seen in illustrations, showing us that the Holy Spirit can visit us at any time. Rossetti was married here and there is a long association of this church with the Rossetti family.

A couple of months after The Annunciation we have Mary visiting her cousin Elizabeth to share the joys of their pregnancies. Elizabeth recognises instantly what has happened and exclaims ‘Blessed are you among women’.  You are so lucky. This is no ordinary baby.  So what does Mary do? Is she running around shouting look I am that important I have God’s son?  Not at all…she says

My soul doth magnify the Lord.

And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.

For he hath regarded: the lowliness of his handmaiden: For behold, from henceforth: all generations shall call me blessed.

Showing humility and trust in God just as she did when the angel came when she said’ I am the Lord’s servant’. She isn’t puffed up with her own importance… she is grateful that God should choose her, one so lowly, not a princess, an ordinary Galilean young woman. She recognises that she will become famous and that all generations will call her blessed but again says that God has done this for her and goes to praise Him again. She can see that it is all about God and His plan. Not about her, she is just the instrument that God is using. She will suffer pain because of this devotion to God, the pain of having a baby so young and ultimately watching Him be crucified.

She then goes on to give a prophecy of the Messiah

And his mercy is on them that fear him: throughout all generations.

He hath shewed strength with his arm: he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.

He hath put down the mighty from their seat: and hath exalted the humble and meek.

He hath filled the hungry with good things: and the rich he hath sent empty away.

Here she shows that she knows what is going to happen and what her Son is destined to do.

Finally she shows the fulfilment of the prophecy in Genesis. Now the Lord said to Abram, …I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”

Mary says

He remembering his mercy hath holpen his servant Israel:

As he promised to our forefathers, Abraham and his seed for ever.

What does this say to us here today? It shows us that Mary was a woman of great humility who saw herself not as a chosen one but as an instrument of God. She was willing to give up everything to serve God because she loved God.  She heard and heeded God’s call to her without even flinching. Her soul magnified the Lord.

So today we should strive to be like Mary, we may not be as fortunate to get a visitation from an angel but we should be open to what the Holy Spirit is asking us to do, (and remember the Holy Spirit can visit us at any time). To recognise that we are all instruments of God, and we should serve Him with praise and without fear.  

How do you serve God and why do you serve God? Is it to get praise from others? …What a good sermon…or is it to serve God?  Yes we are all human and who wouldn’t like to hear they have done a good job? It is right that we should encourage each other in our service to God.  If however our prime motivation is to gather praise and good standing with others rather than to serve God then we may have to reset out motivational compass.

What is God asking you to do for him this Christmas?  When you do things for God do them not for praise from others, only to give praise to God.  In this way we may ourselves through God’s grace also become blessed among women (and men)

Hail Mary full of grace, The Lord is with you, blessed are you among women and blessed be the fruit of thy womb Jesus.

Amen

“I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.” (Luke 3.16)

(The Third Sunday in Advent, 12^th December 2021, St. Clement’s, Hastings)

Do you remember the £1 note?  It used to be a lot of money and it was possible to buy quite a lot with it.  I ask that question because I remember a woman in our congregation who used to put £1 into the collection every week.  When the collection bag came round, she raised her right hand in the air with the £1 note for all to see and with a rather splendid flourish placed the note into the bag.  And in so doing she pointed to her own generosity .  I think that she had rather missed Jesus’ words in Matthew Chapter Six: “But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret.”

Today’s focus is on John the Baptist.  We’ve lit our Advent candle, the Collect makes reference to him and we’ve heard something of his preaching, both encouraging and disturbing, in today’s Gospel.

But should we be thinking about John at all?  What would he make of today’s focus?  For John’s entire ministry points away from himself to Jesus Christ. “He must increase,” said John.  “I must decrease.”  “I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal”, the action of a slave.

Such humility cannot have come to John easily.  Just consider:

• He is Jesus’ cousin, virtually the same age.
• He has his own followers, even into the twentieth century amongst the marsh arabs in Iraq.
• He has his own ministry of preaching and baptism.
• He has even baptised Jesus who came to him.
• Some people considered that he, John, might be the promised Christ, the Messiah.

Given what we know and our experience of human nature and the history of self-appointed messiahs, both religious and political, was there not a temptation for John?

Yet John remains firm to his vocation as a forerunner, preparing people for the advent of the Christ and all the time pointing away from himself to Jesus the Christ.

And as such John is the model for us, a reminder that we should always point away from ourselves to Jesus Christ.  We cannot be like the woman with the £1 note whom I remember more than fifty years later.

I am conscious of the astonishing number of hours of voluntary service – and I use the word service deliberately – that is given so willingly by so many in this parish.  God knows what you do even if it’s not always recognised by those around you.  But do we preach or sing in the choir or serve at the altar or read the lesson or lead the prayers or contact the sick or clean the brass or welcome visitors to point to Christ or point to ourselves?

And if we do serve Him faithfully, there can be disappointments and discouragement; just think of John the Baptist and those who didn’t accept his preaching, who doubted his authenticity, who wanted him dead.  One of the most difficult tasks I have had in my ministry was when I was the Warden of Readers in the London Diocese and had to break the news face to face with candidates who had not been accepted to train as a Reader.  And on a personal note, I’ve certainly had disappointments and discouragement in my own ministry.

Like John the Baptist, we are called to be faithful to the tasks to which God has called us, whatever that may be and however disappointed or discouraged we might feel at times.

The vocation of all the baptised is to point to Jesus Christ.  Are we worthy enough to untie the thong of his sandal?  To what extent do we join with the Baptist in saying, “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world”?

“Should we be thinking about John at all?” was my earlier question.  Well, we have been thinking about John and in so doing I hope that we have also been thinking about ourselves.

© Paul Hunt 2021

“The Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple” (Malachi 3.1)

Many years ago when I taught at Brighton College we had a sixth former who rarely turned up to lessons and rarely handed in any work.  In fact he was very rarely in school at all, prefering to play truant in a local amusement arcade.  “I don’t think that he is really suited for the Sixth Form,” I said to a colleague.  Her reply was, “Don’t you think you’re being rather judgemental?”

“Rather judgemental.”  We now live in a culture in which the concept of judgement when applied to people has gone out of fashion.  The difference between right and wrong is now a matter for subjective individual judgement and rather than pass judgement on someone we seek excuses for bad behaviour and try and shift the responsibility for it elsewhere.

The concept of judgement has rather gone out of fashion in Church life too.  Every week we recite in the Creed that Jesus will come to judge the living and the dead but do we really give this much thought?  After all, we do not recite “He will come and act as our facilitator in group therapy sessions via Zoom”.

As Pat reminded us last Sunday, judgement is one of the four traditional themes of Advent, together with heaven and hell and death.  We tend to use Advent as a time of preparation for the coming of Jesus as a babe born in a manger but Advent is also about our readiness for Jesus’ coming at the end of earthly time, that last day, as the Advent collect reminds us, “when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the quick and the dead.”  This is the Day of the Lord of which the prophets spoke.

So when will this be?  Jehovah’s Witnesses, of course, have predicted the actual year several times: 1914 and 1925 have come and gone and I failed to notice the end of the world in 1975.  The next predicted date is 2034.  It’s easy to make fun of all this but at least the Jehovah’s Witnesses take the concept of the end of history and the final consummation and judgement with an earnestness lost to the mainstream churches.  It’s as though we acknowledge this as a belief but without it having any real effect on our daily living and spirituality.  We’ve rather replaced the concept of Jesus as judge with the more comforting idea of Jesus as our best mate who will find us a parking space, although I suspect that even he would struggle to find one for us in the Old Town.  But have we not just sung the following words in our Gradual hymn?

“As judge, on clouds of light,

  He soon will come again,

  And his true members all unite

  With him in heaven to reign.”

But I’m not convinced by the word “soon”.  The first generation of Christians did indeed expect Jesus to return soon within their lifetimes.  But at the conclusion of his earthly ministry, Jesus told the Apostles that it was not for them to know the times and seasons.

The emphasis in the New Testament is more on ‘sudden’ rather than necessarily ‘soon’.   Think of the Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids in Matthew chapter twenty-five.  Five were foolish and five were wise.  The wise bridesmaids took flasks of oil for their lamps and were able to trim their lamps when the bridegroom appeared suddenly and unexpectedly at midnight.  “Keep awake,” said Jesus at the parable’s conclusion, “for you know neither the day nor the hour.”  Jesus coming might be in 2034 or it might be tonight.

We have many images of Jesus, all of them important and valid and precious.  We think of Him as Shepherd, as King, as Servant.  But in this Advent time let us not forget that he is also our judge.

Here are two representations of Jesus as our judge and ruler of the world.  One is a sixth century representation from St Catherine’s Monastery in the Sinai and the other is by El Greco in the early seventeenth century.  In the first Jesus holds the Gospel Book in his left hand and blesses with his right.  In the second he holds the world in his left hand and blesses with the other.

The season of Advent is a sharp reminder – or at least it should be a sharp reminder – that we need to be ready for his coming as judge and ruler of the world “now in the time of this mortal life” In the words of the Advent Sunday Collect.  “Who can endure the day of his coming?” asked the prophet Malachi.  “Who can stand when he appears?”  “The night is far gone,” wrote St. Paul to the Christians in Rome, “the day is near.  Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armour of light.”

Are we unprepared and asleep like the foolish bridesmaids?  Or are we ready and able to trim our lamps and rejoice?

Wake, O wake! With tidings thrilling
the watchmen all the air are filling,
arise, Jerusalem, arise!
Midnight strikes! No more delaying,
‘The hour has come!’ we hear them saying,
‘where are ye all, ye virgins wise?
The Bridegroom comes in sight,
raise high your torches bright!’
Alleluia!
The wedding song swells loud and strong:
go forth and join the festal throng. 

© Paul Hunt 2021

“The Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple” (Malachi 3.1)

Many years ago when I taught at Brighton College we had a sixth former who rarely turned up to lessons and rarely handed in any work.  In fact he was very rarely in school at all, prefering to play truant in a local amusement arcade.  “I don’t think that he is really suited for the Sixth Form,” I said to a colleague.  Her reply was, “Don’t you think you’re being rather judgemental?”

“Rather judgemental.”  We now live in a culture in which the concept of judgement when applied to people has gone out of fashion.  The difference between right and wrong is now a matter for subjective individual judgement and rather than pass judgement on someone we seek excuses for bad behaviour and try and shift the responsibility for it elsewhere.

The concept of judgement has rather gone out of fashion in Church life too.  Every week we recite in the Creed that Jesus will come to judge the living and the dead but do we really give this much thought?  After all, we do not recite “He will come and act as our facilitator in group therapy sessions via Zoom”.

As Pat reminded us last Sunday, judgement is one of the four traditional themes of Advent, together with heaven and hell and death.  We tend to use Advent as a time of preparation for the coming of Jesus as a babe born in a manger but Advent is also about our readiness for Jesus’ coming at the end of earthly time, that last day, as the Advent collect reminds us, “when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the quick and the dead.”  This is the Day of the Lord of which the prophets spoke.

So when will this be?  Jehovah’s Witnesses, of course, have predicted the actual year several times: 1914 and 1925 have come and gone and I failed to notice the end of the world in 1975.  The next predicted date is 2034.  It’s easy to make fun of all this but at least the Jehovah’s Witnesses take the concept of the end of history and the final consummation and judgement with an earnestness lost to the mainstream churches.  It’s as though we acknowledge this as a belief but without it having any real effect on our daily living and spirituality.  We’ve rather replaced the concept of Jesus as judge with the more comforting idea of Jesus as our best mate who will find us a parking space, although I suspect that even he would struggle to find one for us in the Old Town.  But have we not just sung the following words in our Gradual hymn?

“As judge, on clouds of light,

  He soon will come again,

  And his true members all unite

  With him in heaven to reign.”

But I’m not convinced by the word “soon”.  The first generation of Christians did indeed expect Jesus to return soon within their lifetimes.  But at the conclusion of his earthly ministry, Jesus told the Apostles that it was not for them to know the times and seasons.

The emphasis in the New Testament is more on ‘sudden’ rather than necessarily ‘soon’.   Think of the Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids in Matthew chapter twenty-five.  Five were foolish and five were wise.  The wise bridesmaids took flasks of oil for their lamps and were able to trim their lamps when the bridegroom appeared suddenly and unexpectedly at midnight.  “Keep awake,” said Jesus at the parable’s conclusion, “for you know neither the day nor the hour.”  Jesus coming might be in 2034 or it might be tonight.

We have many images of Jesus, all of them important and valid and precious.  We think of Him as Shepherd, as King, as Servant.  But in this Advent time let us not forget that he is also our judge.

Here are two representations of Jesus as our judge and ruler of the world.  One is a sixth century representation from St Catherine’s Monastery in the Sinai and the other is by El Greco in the early seventeenth century.  In the first Jesus holds the Gospel Book in his left hand and blesses with his right.  In the second he holds the world in his left hand and blesses with the other.

The season of Advent is a sharp reminder – or at least it should be a sharp reminder – that we need to be ready for his coming as judge and ruler of the world “now in the time of this mortal life” In the words of the Advent Sunday Collect.  “Who can endure the day of his coming?” asked the prophet Malachi.  “Who can stand when he appears?”  “The night is far gone,” wrote St. Paul to the Christians in Rome, “the day is near.  Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armour of light.”

Are we unprepared and asleep like the foolish bridesmaids?  Or are we ready and able to trim our lamps and rejoice?

Wake, O wake! With tidings thrilling
the watchmen all the air are filling,
arise, Jerusalem, arise!
Midnight strikes! No more delaying,
‘The hour has come!’ we hear them saying,
‘where are ye all, ye virgins wise?
The Bridegroom comes in sight,
raise high your torches bright!’
Alleluia!
The wedding song swells loud and strong:
go forth and join the festal throng. 

© Paul Hunt 2021

Advent Sunday 28^th November 2021

A sermon by Dr. Pat Lock

I suppose I should start the sermon this morning by wishing you all ’Happy New Year.’  Today is Advent Sunday, the new year in the Church’s calendar, it’s the beginning of the Church year.  Look at our colours this morning! While the rest of the country is starting to deck itself out in the Christmas colours of green and red, we have moved to the other end of the ecclesiastical colour spectrum – donning purple, the colour of sombre reflection.

Advent Sunday is different from any other day in the church calendar, because the church year does not start with an event, such as Jesus’s birth, or death, or resurrection, or ascension.   No: instead, the new church year starts with a strange darkness and even emptiness, a real sense of mystery, and a rather tense, almost spine-tingling, feeling of expectation.  It is a curious mixture of both dread and delight.  Dread, because the themes the church has historically focused on in this season are rather forbidding – the ‘four last things’: heaven, hell, death and judgement.   Delight, because Advent does look forward to the promise of the Incarnation: Immanuel, God entering into the arena of our humanity and – astonishingly – sharing our human experience with us. And so today we observe the ritual of the lighting of our first Advent candle.  So we seek to find our way in this mysterious darkness which marks the beginning of the season – waiting, wondering, daring to hope that the mystery might be revealed.  Advent Sunday calls us to remain alert and to keep watch, but also to be still and grow in holiness.

Early Christians lived with the expectation the world would end at any time. They waited expectantly for Christ to return. They lived each day as it came. As one prophet cried out, ‘How long, O Lord, how long?’And today, we too don’t know when the end of the world will come but we have a responsibility to live each day for God whilst waiting expectantly for the end to come. And still we wait.

But no sooner has Advent got under way than we’re headlong into all those interminable carol services, so that by the time it gets to the point when we should sing carols, we’re all carolled out. And I think we are the poorer for not remembering Advent. Advent isn’t Christmas, and nor is Advent about preparing for Christmas. Advent is a time of waiting, a time of preparation for celebrating the coming of God into the world in human form in the person of Jesus his Son and looking to His return in glory. It is a period of waiting and preparation, with a sense of emptiness and wondering. But I think it’s right because if we don’t go through this season of Advent waiting and watching and preparing then we don’t really have anything to celebrate.

We are not used to waiting these days! The incessant pace and demand of life, especially through electronic media makes us increasingly impatient and intolerant of having to wait. I am not happy if my computer screen does not instantly spring into life on demand! Advent is about watching and waiting for the coming of God to complete his work, but doing so in activity and hope. On this Advent Sunday we who are Christian disciples are reminded by our scriptures that, though the world seems bleak and broken at times, God is going to complete the job he started in Bethlehem on that first Christmas, and continued in Jesus’ loving death and mighty resurrection at Easter. Advent is about the sure and certain hope that God will finish what he has started, that justice and right will triumph in the end.

What are your hopes and dreams at present – for yourself, your family, our church? Our lives are full of hopes: worldly, natural hopes, important and trivial. People in some other parts of the world hope for no more war, that there will be food and clean water tomorrow, that they simply get safely to the end of the day. Advent Sunday calls us back to our hopes and dreams in Christ. In the Gospels  Jesus says “Be alert; you do not know when the time will come “ And again “What I say to you, I say to all: keep awake!” Are we complacent in our spiritual waiting, or active in pushing forward the boundaries of the Kingdom of God as his disciples? So here we are on Advent Sunday 2021 called to renew our hope in the God who still comes to us now, every minute, every moment, calling us to watch and wait and join in with his work in the world. Waiting in Advent hope is not about inertia and leaving it all to God. As this season of Advent

progresses God says to his church, “you can’t just sit there! Now is the time. I am here – do something!” Advent is a wake-up call to the Church to watch and pray, but not to stop there, rather to see what God is doing and join in.   So what is God calling you to do between now and Christmas? We are not called to be sleepily religious, but to be faithful and adventurous for and with Jesus. Always remember that God has double vision for you: he sees you as you are and as you can or should be. The challenge of Advent is to live an authentic Christian life: You are writing a Gospel, a chapter each day by the deeds that you do, and the things that you say, be it faithful and true. What are you waiting for?

Nonetheless, there’s still more than enough distress and misery to go round, as we see pictures of human suffering on an immense scale – people and nations ravaged by war or terrorist attacks, lives blighted by poverty, drought, starvation or disease.  Tragically, we have become used to seeing people with no light in their eyes, no hope for tomorrow, nothing to live for.  Where is God in this? The questions about the whereabouts of God are, of course, as old as time.  And they’ve been hurled at the sky as much by people of faith as by anyone else. We hear them asked repeatedly and urgently in Scripture, by individuals and by the Hebrew people in general.   Somehow, even though it can be hard, we have to hang on even when God seems to be absent. Beware any religion that promises perpetual bliss or constant joy.

Advent Sunday reminds us that we wait for God like night watchmen wait for the morning. In the darkness we yearn for the light. But the candle we light today is tentative and vulnerable; its flame flickers at the slightest draught.  Sometimes the darkness almost overwhelms us, yet here’s the good news.  Jesus says, it’s at just such a time that we are to

expect a sense of the presence of God.  ‘The Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour’, says the Gospel.  The darkness will be pierced, God’s promise will be fulfilled, a child will

be born.  Advent places us perpetually on the eve of God’s coming among us.  So – stay alert, let the flickering light of the candle into your darkness, look for even the smallest signs of God’s presence breaking through.  We don’t know when the darkness will be penetrated, but the urgent prophetic message of Advent is that we must remain alert to the glimpses of light that come our way.  We must constantly be ready to meet the divine clothed in our very humanity, in the course of our ordinary everyday lives.  Advent urges us to expect that encounter at any moment and in any number of surprising ways.  And once it has happened, things can never be the same again. 

We are already in the presence of something eternal, the living Word of God who is Jesus himself. The kingdom of God is near.  What you would want to be found doing if Jesus suddenly appeared on the scene?  If one day you hear the loud sound of trumpets from the heavens – I suggest at the very least you bow before Him in awe and wonder.