Sermons

Trinity Sunday

 

A very good morning to you all on Trinity Sunday, brought to you today by the number three. I have ten minutes to enlighten us all on one of the great mysteries of church doctrine and theology.

I was asking a clergy friend what they were intending to preach about today and they said. Don’t worry - you’ll be fine as long as you don’t preach any heresy. What a terrifying thought! Heresy! But it’s a real concern on Trinity Sunday, because, throughout the history of the church, whenever theologians have reached for analogies to express what the Trinity is, cries of heresy have often followed.

 

What are we talking about when we use the term ‘the trinity’? Well, we are referring to the three persons of the Godhead.

Father, Son and Holy Spirit

Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer if you want it expressed in terms of their activities and in less patriarchal language.

Three distinct yet equal persons - one God - Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

 

In our Nicene Creed this is expressed as: we believe in

one God, the Father, the Almighty,

one Lord Jesus Christ, the only Son of God - of one Being with the Father,

the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the Giver of life, who proceeds from the Father (and the Son)

 

So God is three in one

The Father is God

The Son is God

The Holy Spirit is God

 

I actually think that a bit of what has been termed heresy might be helpful just to allow us to get our heads around what we are talking about here.

 

It has been said for instance that the Trinity can be compared to water, the same substance existing in three different states - water can be liquid, ice and steam like the three distinct persons of the Trinity which share the same essence of God.

Good analogy or heresy?

Limited analogy perhaps because water only exists in one state at a time whereas God is all three persons simultaneously.

And it is deemed heretical since it implies that God is a kind of shape shifter which is the heresy of modalism.

 

It has been said that the Trinity is like the three layers of an egg, shell, yolk, white.

Good analogy or heresy?

Well, it evokes different parts of God, three distinct elements forming one whole, but the parts of the egg rely on one another to function, and the persons of the Trinity are not interdependent in the same way.

This analogy too is deemed heretical since it suggests that God is composed of distinct parts: the heresy of partialism.

As well as those analogies of things there are other analogies/heresies that have been used to try and express what the Trinity is in less tangible terms. The love analogy, lover, beloved, act of love (good old Augustine of Hippo who famously said - God help me to be pure but not yet). He also compared the Trinity to the functions of the mind - being, knowing, willing.

 

I throw those out there in case they are helpful for any of you.

 

But then we come to my favourite heresy, as an Irish person -

St Patrick with his shamrock. Three leaves on one stalk - condemned as the heresy of partialism - I like it. It helps me except it doesn’t work if you find a four-leaf clover…

 

 

I think that the only thing that we can safely say about the Trinity and how the different persons of the Trinity relate to one another is that it is a mystery. We cannot ever fully understand it in this life because we are not God, we are not members of the Trinity, we are not privy to the thoughts nor to the mind of God, the Three in One. Our imaginations, however vivid, are limited and we can only think in terms of what we see and know and experience in our world. No wonder we reach for everyday things like eggs and water to try and find an understanding. St Patrick at least turned to the natural world and used the shamrock analogy to express the living, breathing, growing essence of God. It wasn’t his fault that his attempt to explain the Trinity would become emblazoned on millions of pub signs throughout the globe.

 

Another question to ask might be: why the Trinity? Why do we have three persons? Maybe because God knows that we need different things at different times of our life. When I interviewed missionary nuns for my research one of the questions, I asked them was whether they had a favourite member of the Trinity, one they particularly related to. They said that at different times of their lives different members of the Trinity had become particularly important. Growing up, God the Father, the parent, in the missions Jesus the Son, the servant, and, when nothing made sense, the power of the Holy Spirit. I’m sure many of us can relate to that.

 

The mystery of the Trinity is good for us since it forces us to confront our own limitations in knowledge and imagination. I imagine the three members of the Trinity in constant motion, dancing perhaps which is another analogy that has been used. It would have to be one of those Scottish country dances where people weave in and out, spinning and changing places constantly, grasping hands and throwing back their heads in laughter, out of breath, exhilarated and joyful. When I was an ordinand in a student parish we did dance on Trinity Sunday. And it was a bit wild and clumsy, but it somehow felt liberating to dance in church.

 

Can we believe and trust what we do not understand and cannot express? That is the question I ask of us all on this Trinity Sunday. The mystery of the Trinity is one of the mysteries of faith and faith, after all, is about believing what we cannot see.

God in three persons dancing and, most importantly, inviting us to join the dance, reaching out a hand to pull us into the perpetual movement of the Trinity, the work of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, as members of the family.

 

Today, on Trinity Sunday, the invitation is for all of us to join the dance.

 

Amen

Pentecost

 

Come Holy Ghost and shake us up! Amen. 

The wind blows…

The funny thing about wind is, that we don’t really know where from and where to it’s blowing, we only know the general direction. Often, You think it goes from A to B, but the. it feels differently, elusive, from all directions.

The Spirit too, she blows, often from and to surprising directions.

That’s the Spirit speaking to us individually as well as in community, as surprisingly as she blows, and as renewing.

 

The disciples had been through it once before, after the crucifixion, that fear, that disappointment, that feeling of loneliness, dazed, numb, because their world had come crashing down.

 

Then the resurrection happened, and Jesus was back, their lives once again as they reckoned it was supposed to be.

 

40 days later it happened all over again. 40 days Jesus had stayed with them, had eaten with them, had told them things, had spoken to them. Then the Ascension happened, and he was gone. Hadn’t he promised never to do that again?

 

He had abandoned them once again, dazed, numb, alone.

 

Once again they were there, in that upper room, fearful, doubting, huddled together, hiding.

Then the Spirit came.

 The Spirit, she still blows.

She, because in Hebrew ruakh is feminine, and in Greek pneuma is gender neutered. So, not just “the Lord, the giver of life”, but also, ‘the Lady’, or ‘that which gives life’.

 

The Spirit descended with some impressive special effects and literally shoved the disciples outside, to meet the crowds that had gathered together, and to speak to them. Not in some weird made-up language that sounds like a mixture of Hebrew and Arabic and random sh- and guttural sounds, but each in their own language, in other words, the disciples spoke in existing and understandable languages.

 

In the tv series Empire, this scene is cleverly depicted as the disciples, including the virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene, being anointed and being inspired by the Spirit to pray the Lord’s Prayer in a variety of languages, while flames appear over their heads and a strong loud wind, almost a hurricane, engulfs them.

 

This attracts the crowd outside the upper room.

Those crowds that day were far from homogenous and probably there were non-Jews there also. The Spirit isn’t just multilingual but also multicultural.

 

These people had come from all over for the Festival of Booths. Most of the Jewish diaspora and the god feathers didn’t speak Hebrew or Aramaic. Some had lived in Jerusalem all their lives, and were perhaps familiar with this odd ball group which had tagged along with this Jesus of Nazareth. Some were deeply moved and impressed, spiritually filled, others made snide remarks about breakfast boozing.

 

A colorful bunch just, like the Church.

 

The Church, with capital C, is the Spirit’s own creation, divinely instituted, as a gift to every Christian as well as the wider world. A haven, a vehicle of the Word and Sacraments, as means of God’s grace.

Just like a human body is animated, given life, by the soul, the mind and its conscience, so the Body of Christ is animated and invigorated, energized by the Holy Spirit.

Not only is the Church a creation of the Word, but she is also a Word event: not just a static one off but also a continuous action. The Church was not only called into being, but she is also called to be.

 

Does the church still speak a language that people understand?

Does the church still speak to people at all?

Does she speak with a creative and creating voice?

Does she speak about the one who is present, is very close by?

Does she speak the truth? Does she speak truth to power, or does she collaborate with injustice?

Does the church still have anything sensible to say?

Did God not speak at creation?

Was everything not created through the Word?

Is the Word not Christ?

Is Christ not God?

Is God not love?

So, the Word is love, and our words, the words of the church must also be love.

Our words must bring hope, not fear.

Our word must speak love, not indifference.

Our words must declare grace, not judgement.

Our words must build up, not tear down.

Our words must create, not leave empty.

 

How do we speak to people who have come from all corners of the world, each with their own story, each with their own way of life? Refugees, economic migrants, the seekers, the atheists, those of other denominations, those of other religions…

 

Do we speak with judgement, or invitingly?

 

Do we still speak in a language that people understand, about a God who’s present, about a God who understands them, a God who gives life?

 

Is the Church still a voice that’s being heard? Is the Church still a voice worth listening to?

 

Does she still speak up in word and deed for the lonely, depressed, the addicted, the homeless, all who are being ignored, all who don’t have a voice?

 

Does she still allow for the Spirit to do her work in us, to set us on fire, to engage ourselves, to invite al into our churches, our homes, our countries? 

 

One of the most important words in any language is the word ‘welcome’, let’s use it again and again! Let’s be inviting and go out to spiritually and physically embody the love of God, let’s descend like the Spirit over people. To draw them out, to bring them in, to support them, to give them a place, so they can speak for themselves, so that they can express themselves, defend themselves, and so on.

   

That’s why Pentecost is the feast of communication, of interaction, of engagement, of thinking outside the box, of doing things differently, and step out of our comfort zone.

 

The Church too must blow like the wind. We too must blow like the wind.

 

Pentecost is the festival that guarantees that the work of the triune God is still ongoing, that it hasn’t ended, that it’s moving on, and that’s the calling we have as well: don’t give up, enjoy, live, fight for justice and peace, serve, be people, and be Christians.

Or will everything remain dead letter? Uninspired, boring, rusted, huddled together, hiding in our church buildings, wallowing in self-pity?

 

Veni Creator Spiritus! Come, Creator-God!

Ascension

 

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

 

At the Ascension, God shows that Jesus has returned to his rightful place, as Jesus was at the right hand of God when all things were created, and through him all things were created. He intercedes for us. He keeps an eye on us, he keeps watch. And he will come again ‘to judge the living and the dead’ as the Creed says.

 

As a feast day, Ascension is under-appreciated.

That’s understandable, because how do you celebrate the fact that someone rose from the dead, only to leave again? What is the use of the resurrection, if the result is the same: Jesus is gone.

Okay, we have a Thursday off and a lot of people have a long weekend off. Perhaps there is a service in the church, perhaps not. 

But there are no decorations to hang up, no trees or branches to decorate, no presents, no special dishes. There are no Ascension Day movies we can watch with the whole family.

Compared to Christmas and Easter, Ascension Day is rather dull.

 

When Jesus died, he left a massive void amongst his disciples and other followers.

 

Not only had there been the seemingly needless and violent loss of a life, there was confusion and disappointment; after all, had he not come to restore Israel and the Hebrew nation?

 

The Resurrection proved to only be a short lived reunion and the disciples were devastated by the knowledge that they were seemingly going to lose Jesus again.

 

But the Ascension needed to happen, just as Jesus explained.

 

 

“...I go to prepare a place for you.”

 

On the eve of his Ascension, Jesus wanted to make sure that the disciples wouldn’t loose heart. He wanted to impress upon them that once again this was not the end, that there was still much to do.

 

Let’s not let our hearts be troubled, because there is still much to do.

 

 

Many Christians long to be with Jesus in the afterlife in such a way that they loose sight of  life here and now. What will happen to them after they die almost becomes an obsession. It’s almost as if they want to skip this earthly bit and immediately move on to the glorious heavenly part.

 

That’s not how it works, of course: God promises us to take care of us in the next life, that doesn’t mean we should ignore what goes in the here and now.

 

If there are many rooms in the Father’s house than surely it is our Christian duty to prepare a place among us for the many who feel excluded, ignored, chased away, homeless, persecuted.

 

If the Church can’t fulfill that simple task, the world is in a sorry state indeed.

 

 

Like many times in the Scriptures, Jesus sets an example that we are to imitate.

 

God’s grace does n’t come at a price, but it does come with a call, with responsibilities.

 

 “...I go to prepare a place for you, don’t fret, don’t stress out, it will be alright...and in the meantime, I ask you to prepare a place for others as well.”

 

So, what’s the point of Ascension Day? 

In St John’s Gospel chapter 1 we read,

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

Because God is a God who cares about his creation, we confess that this Word, this Jesus came down from heaven, as we say in the Creed. Jesus, the God–man, lived, preached, taught, and died here on earth to complete the new covenant in his blood, to bring people back in relation with the Father, so that God can be God in our lives, and we can be people who live out our humanity to the fullest.

Then Jesus came back from the dead, ‘ascended, and sits at the right hand of the Father, where he will come again to judge the living and the dead’, we say again in the creed. Jesus went back to the Father to return one day to judge the whole of humanity. We don’t know when this judgement will take place, we shouldn’t speculate, we shouldn’t be frightened. The fact that Jesus will return to earth is a promise, not a threat.

 

So why couldn’t Jesus just stay with us, if he was going to come back anyway?

Perhaps he could have healed more people, perhaps he could’ve told more parables, perhaps he could have thrown over more tables, upset more religious and political people. Perhaps he would’ve been condemned to death again and executed.

So, what is Jesus doing all day in heaven?

He’s preparing rooms for us,

He’s preparing the way for the Comforter,

He’s interceding for us, he’s being our high priest, a high priesthood we share through baptism.

It’s all part of the ongoing cycle of God’s care for his creation, of God’s interest, of God’s intervening, interfering, like a parent.

God doesn’t let go of the work of his hand.

God is the God who takes the first step every time, comes with solutions, gives grace, gives love, gives hope. Every time again, for us, in our interest.

 

At the Ascension, the circle is complete, The Word has returned to his rightful place.

We too may take up a rightful place in creation, everyone can be involved, just like God’s always involved.

We too should make place for others,

We too should comfort others, guide them, intercede for them,

We too should be high priests for others, be merciful and loyal and dependable.

 

Ascension Day deserves a bit more attention, a bit more enthusiasm, and not just because of the day off or the long weekend off.

The events of that day after all are being told in no less than three passages in the new Testament and that’s saying something. 

It’s not just about missing Jesus; it is also about the promise and about the fulfillment.

Ascension doesn’t mean the opposite of Easter, Jesus who rises from the dead, only to leave. On the contrary, Ascension Day underlines, emphasizes the resurrection. It underscores everything the Resurrection stands for, namely that everything and everyone has a rightful place within creation to take up.

Jesus’ earthly journey may be over, but his work and his commitment for Earth and for all who live here has not ended.

 

Easter Six

 

« Do not be afraid.”

 

Jesus has just told the disciples that the Father was going to send the Holy Spirit, and he adds to that promise his peace and the admonition not to be afraid.

 

“Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid.”

 

Easier said than done.

 

Fear is a perfectly acceptable human emotion. It’s part of a built-in safety mechanism, it’s part of our human instincts that certain situations, people or other creatures, or a combination automatically set off alarm bells.

 

“Do not be afraid.”

 

 

If someone would tell you about a spirit, a ghost, an invisible specter which was going to come to you, you might actually feel worried, wouldn’t you, a little scared even.

 

If you ever happen to have a ghost in your house, you might just call for an exorcist, or maybe the ghost busters.

 

Of course, Jesus is talking about the Holy Spirit, the third person of the Trinity, “the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father” as we’ll be professing in the Creed later on.

 

So, no need to be afraid of the Holy Spirit, no need to hire the ghost busters.

 

 

When Christ ascended bodily and rejoined His Father in Heaven, there was created a space for another, a Representer, non-bodily who would incorporate the divine in a personal and individual yet communal and interconnecting way.

 

This one-to-one and also group link -this first century Divine WiFi if you will- leads, nourishes, builds up; it offers courage, joy and faith; in the Church it works through Word and Sacrament; and rolls downs like righteousness, healing and forgiveness, an everlasting stream of respect, human rights and religious freedom.

 

The Spirit was there at creation, in Christ's salvific existence and work, and still roars in the Abba-Father cry of each person; unbound by circumstance, time and space.

 

Because of this, the Spirit can't be claimed nor pinned down by any particular group for their own means, their own agendas, their own exclusive claims of judgmental superiority.

 

This means that the Spirit is not a stranger, the Spirit is not a strange entity that appears out of nowhere, without any connection to God.

 

No, this is the Spirit of Jesus, the Spirit of God. 

 

And not only will the Spirit teach us all things, the Spirit will also remind us of everything Jesus has said to his disciples. In other words, the Spirit will confirm Jesus’ teachings and witness.

 

Do not be afraid, the Spirit is familiar to you, the Spirit is how God and Jesus make their home with you.

 

 

Do not let your hearts be troubled and accept the Spirit in your lives, accept the gifts of the Spirit.

  

Saint Augustine of Hippo, that famous and clever Teacher of the Church from the 4-5th century, drew a connection between these gifts and the Beatitudes in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount (Mt.5:3-12):

 

• Blessed are the poor in spirit, corresponds to the fear of the Lord as the "poor in spirit" are the humble and God-fearing;
• Blessed are those who mourn, corresponds to knowledge, because to Augustine the knowledge of God brings an increased awareness of personal sin;
• Blessed are the meek, corresponds to piety;
• Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, corresponds to fortitude;
• Blessed are the merciful, corresponds to counsel;
• Blessed are the pure in heart, corresponds to understanding;
• Blessed are the peacemakers, corresponds to wisdom.

 

There’s nothing to be afraid of, let the Spirit guide you, work these gifts in you.

 

don’t worry, don’t fret, it is about the assurance that God’s promises, God’s commitments are ongoing;

don’t feel abandoned, it is about how Jesus is with us until the end of the age, even though his physical story here on earth ended -for the time being- at the Ascension;

don’t feel alone, we can confirm our trust in the fact that as the Trinity is connected, so we too are connected to God and connected to each other;

don’t feel overwhelmed, we can celebrate the Spirit bringing peace, a peace the world cannot give and a peace we offer each other, as we do during the service.

   

 

In a sermon, US pastor Lydia Posselt had the following striking things to say:

 

"I belong to Christ, and you belong to Christ, and together, we get to march in the parade led by the Holy Spirit. This parade leads us out into the world, out to our neighbors, where the fruits of our freedom in Christ are given away to others, not hoarded or stored up for our own benefit." -end quote.

 

How wonderfully it ties in with our readings today of Jesus' promise of the Spirit. 

  

And we're all called to march along, limp along, roll along, dance along, support others along, carry the dying and the dead along, and be carried!

 

We're all called to claim this promise, to cling to it.

 

 

The Spirit is the seal that our Lord is truly a resurrected Lord; Jesus lives, so we live, so others live, so we live for them.

 

The Spirit is the seal that God truly is love; Jesus loves, so we love, are called to love our neighbors as ourselves.

 

But How to love, how to live when others deny you your place in the parade, target you, threaten your job, your house, your rightful place among family and friends, even your church and your god!?

 

How not to abandon the parade altogether!?

 

Thursday is Ascension Day, Sunday next Pentecost; very important feast days, too often neglected. Nonetheless, they should be up there with Christmas and Easter, even if we don't always really know what to do with them, if they're not as physical and as tangible, not as easily pinned down, because their messages are just as important, just as inspiring, vital.

 

They're festivals that assure us that when the material, that wonderfully and equally created, that bodily is under attack, under threat, discarded, the Spirit will keep rebuilding, will keep creating, indiscriminate, unfettered, alway there, always cheeky, always marching.

 

And we can and must march with the Spirit; we've got every God-given right to do so, not just for our neighbors but also for ourselves. We cling to the promise.

 

 

Easter Five

 

Acts 11, Rev. 21, Jn. 13)

 

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

 

Everything and everyone on this planet, indeed in the whole universe, is linked up, interconnected, interwoven.

 

Remember that pandemic we went through, and psychologists coined a new word, skin hunger, to indicate the mental distress many felt because of the lack of human face to face contact and direct touch. Six feet or one and a half meters will always have a certain connotation.

Remember that container ship that got stuck in the Suez Canal, and the whole World’s economy grind to a halt: hundreds of ships were stuck in a nautical traffic jam, hundreds of millions of euros of revenue are lost, orders delayed, port laborers having to wait to process the goods, a nation that lost out on much needed income.

Remember the crucifixion, when Jesus said I will draw all nations to me.

Remember the resurrection, when biological life and life eternal were bridged once and for all.

Remember the ascension and the Pentecost feast, when heaven and earth were directly connected without obstacle.

 

Everything is interwoven.

Nothing exists on its own.

The moment Creation was started, there was nothing that would ever exist separated from all the rest. Everything exists in a network, a constant current flowing to and fro. All parts are in relationship with each other, they feed each other, they are each other’s lifeblood. An organism is only an organism in relation to another organism. Atoms, organs, nerve systems, everything points to a system which is not supposed to exist by itself. Saint Paul already wrote about it in 1 Corinthians 12,

 

18 But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. 19 If all were a single member, where would the body be? 20 As it is, there are many members, yet one body.

 

The late Emily Levine (1944-2019), a writer and actress from The US, at her last performance, told her audiences that they made her life real, a reality. “Reality begins with an interaction.”, she said.

In Genesis chapter 1 God’s interaction with the void and the darkness formed the reality of existence.

 

Everything is interwoven.

Jesus used a symbol from nature to make that connection: “I am the vine.”

Everything’s connected, is attached to Christ; “3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being what has come into being.” (Jn. 1)

Aren’t we all called to be co-workers with God in God’s vineyard?!

 

God is sometimes pictured as a potter, but can we not also imagine him as a weaver?

 

A single tread in a tapestry

Though its color brightly shines,

Can never see its purpose

In the pattern of the grand design.

 

And the stone that sits at the very top

Of the mountain’s mighty face

Does it think that its more important

Than the stones that form the base?

 

A lake of gold in the desert sand

Is less than a cool fresh spring

And to one lost sheep, a shepherd boy

Is greater than the richest king

 

So how do you judge what a man is worth

By what he builds or buys?

You can never see with your eyes on earth

Look at your life through heaven's eyes

 

(Jethro, The Prince of Egypt, 1998)

 

We need to tell ourselves and the World that we are all interwoven, connected.

Our interwoveness is constantly moving forward, it does not like stagnation. “See, I am making all things new.” (Rev. 21:5).

Our interwoveness is only content when everyone’s on board, when no one’s left behind. Everything in Creation breaths in tandem, synchronized.

Our interwoveness means that everyone and everything is as they’re supposed to be.

Now, replace the word ‘interwoveness’ with ‘Jesus Christ’.

Jesus Christ is constantly moving forward, he does not like stagnation.

Jesus Christ is only content when everyone’s on board, when no one’s left behind.

Jesus Christ means that everyone and everything is as they’re supposed to be.

 

Christ is our weaver.

“I am the vine.”

 

Perhaps we don’t always realise that we’re interwoven but we are, the last decade has made that abundantly clear.

So question is, how interwoven do we feel? How interwoven are we willing to be?

‘I want to be interwoven’ or ‘I am interwoven, you are interwoven, we all are interwoven’ could perhaps be a good message on our social media, or as a button, or on a T-shirt.

 

After all, Christ did not say, I will be the vine, you will abide in me, my Father will be glorified. No, he said, I am the vine, you abide in me, my Father is glorified, etc. We must remember that we are already interwoven, because as with everything with God, God always takes the first step, usually without us deserving it, asking for it, or even realizing it.

That’s called grace. It’s a grace that throws our arrogance and selfishness and exclusivity on a pile and burns them. The ashes then serve to fertilize the vine and its branches, to grow together as one vine.

 

3 You have already been cleansed by the word that I have spoken to you. 4 Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. 5 I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.

All interwoven like branches on a vine.

 

Examples like a Pride weekend, a cultural history months, or open days in our neighborhood churches and businesses, and so on, remind us that we’re all connected, from the very local to the internationally, and perhaps even to the interstellar.

We cannot pick and chose the parts of the whole we wish to engage with, because we will be confronted with their existence one way or another. We cannot shut parts of the whole out or banish them from sight, from existence, merely because they don’t suit us, our sensitivies, our belief systems, our politics, and so on. People who complain that ´you didn’t see or talk about those things beforé, or ´ they’re shoving it down our throats’, are most likely only content when society looks exactly like they do and like they want it.

 

The pandemic petered out and is now a containable disease, like flu. The container ship was pulled free and sailed on. The cycle of interwoveness continues.

Easter Four : Good Shepherd Sunday

 

[Acts 9:36-43; Ps. 23; Jn. 10:22-30]

 

Peace to all of you who are in Christ. Amen.

  

So, this is our scene:

It’s winter in Jerusalem, and it can get cold there, even snow a little in the hillside. It’s the period of the Festival of Dedication or Festival of Lights (khanukah), a Jewish celebration marking triumph over foreign invaders and occupiers centuries earlier.

Jesus is walking in the Portico of Solomon, on the eastern side of the Temple… He is walking in His Father’s house.  

Jesus is calling all us to be his sheep; not that that means we should be a bunch of mindless, submissive creatures, but that we should accept that as far as God is concerned we are all equal and equally important, and he is our Good Shepherd, we don’t shepherd ourselves.

Jesus is calling out to us, not screaming or commanding, but in an intimate, ‘knowing’, manner, calling out for us to believe and follow Him, through a life close to him and close to the Father, close to others, all the way to an eternal life of Resurrection.

 

Today, the fourth Sunday of the Easter season is often known as Good Shepherd Sunday because of the assigned Gospel reading: “I am the good shepherd.” said Jesus.

In many churches it’s also known as Vocations Sunday, when prayers are offered for new vocations, for new shepherds in the Church of Christ, for people -men and women- we can trust to guide us on a spiritual level, people we can trust to guide us on our journey of faith.

 

The Greek word for trust is pistis; it also means ‘reliance’.

It’s this word we find in the New Testament and which is usually translated with ‘faith’.

It has become to mean an agreement to a certain set of faith rules or expressions; while this is important too, it’s not exactly what the authors of the Scriptures were trying to say: it’s far more about letting go and letting someone else be in charge, about relying on them to envision only the best for us and truly act with our best interests at heart.

James Allison, a Catholic theologian describes faith as relaxing, in the way that you relax in the presence of someone you’re certain is fond of you.

Someone we want to spend time with and someone who’s fond of us and wants to spend time with us, who wants to make us lay down in green pastures and lead us besides still waters.

 

Psalm 23 interestingly reads like a kind of creed, like a kind of affirmation of faith.

It’s a poem, a song about trust and care, about spending time with our heavenly Father, with our Creator, our Good Shepherd.

 

He leads me in right paths...

God is enough, our Good Shepherd is enough.

God is the source of all existence, God ís all existence, our Alpha and Omega from whom all things flow and to whom all things will return.

This is why we can take a deep breath and let go.

 

We can be still -not to mean that there’s no volume- but we can be still in our souls, in our lives. We can leave behind all that pressures us, all that makes us feel hunted.

Anxiety, depression, pride, self-pity, and so on... we can leave it all behind.

But that’s so difficult, isn’t it, to surrender everything in to God’s hands, to let God take care of everything, because we human beings so love to be in control...yet, if we’re truly honest with ourselves, when are we really ever in control?! When do we really ever trust?!

 

Martin Luther, the German Reformer in his Commentary on this Psalm wrote:

“If you wish therefore, to be richly supplied in both body and soul, then above all give careful attention to the voice of this Shepherd, listen to His voice, let Him feed, direct, lead, protect and comfort you. That is: hold fast to His Word, hear and learn it gladly, for then you will be well supplied in both body and soul.”

God is greater than our hearts, Saint John writes, we don’t have to be afraid to let go, to take that leap of faith, that leap of pistis.

 

That’s the message of hope and love Psalm 23 insists on: that darkest valley cannot win, death -be it physical or spiritual death- has lost its sting.

No, life isn’t perfect, life’s hard, but anything which seems closed off to us, any situation which we don’t seem to be able to get out off -even as sealed as a tomb- God will break open to let light and life in, to let new opportunities in, every single day.

 

He restores my soul...

These are opportunities to make something of our lives, to mean a difference for good in the lives of others.

It’s not always easy, people aren’t always easy to like and often we don’t actually like ourselves very much.

Fortunately, God does like us, else He wouldn’t have commanded us to love our neighbors as ourselves.

 

Psalm 23 is a literary reminder of a God who cares, who is engaged and concerned.

It reiterates time and time again that God is present, keeping a watchful eye on Creation, like a good shepherd.

God is present, also in Communion which we will be celebrating in a few moments time.

God is abundantly present.

...my cup overflows...

 

 

We too are called to be the shepherd in the Psalm.

We too are called to lead others by still waters, to bring peace to their lives when they’re totally overwhelmed.

We too are called to be present in the dark hours and dark places of others, to bring resurrection light and to hopefully bring some kind of healing, some kind of anointing to them.

This isn’t just a suggestion, to be nice to people, even the people we prefer to avoid; it’s God who asks this of us and God’s requests always have purpose -they’re not there to annoy us- they always have meaning.

We’re called not to shame other peoples’ pistis in us.

The Church, Christianity as a whole has a bad reputation for lettings people down in their trust and reliance, and it’s time that we really take the task which Psalm 23 sets before all of us genuinely to heart.

We all must be better shepherds! Isn’t that a good reminder on Good Shepherd Sunday.

A difficult task for sure, but we have the best example there could possibly be: Jesus, our Good Shepherd.

...goodness and mercy shall follow me...

 

The Easter season is a time for regeneration, for restoration, for all things new.

Psalm 23 can be our daily guide in this, our daily prayer also.

When our trust, our pistis doesn’t seem enough, we can find courage and energy in these words; we can be reminded that God does watch over his flock, that God does walk with us.

...and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord my whole life long. 

Amen.