HOLY SATURDAY 2020 - Sermon for All Saints, Blackheath

“Let him Easter in us,

be a dayspring to the dimness of us.”

X

INTRODUCTION

So wrote Gerard Manly Hopkins in his epic poem, The Wreck of the Deutschland, a ship that, in 1875, floundered off the coast of Harwich and in which five Franciscan nuns, fleeing persecution in Germany, were drowned.   ‘Let him Easter in us’

It is such an odd use of the word; surely ‘Easter’ is an event, not an experience; a noun not a verb?  Yet, here is Hopkins inviting us to let Christ ‘Easter in us’.   But it’s a great way to look at the truth, the transforming reality of Easter.  For Easter is about an activity that does not apply to something we do but something ‘he’ does in us.  Let Easter get into us.  Let Easter come and live where we live.  Let Easter permeate our souls.  Let him Easter in us; be as a new day to the darkness in us.  

Tonight we normally gather, after the long rigours of Lent and Holy Week, to do just that.  To let Christ ‘Easter’ in us.  Not to wistfully recall a long-ago episode, affirm our faith or even to worship at a powerful and moving Liturgy.  But to be present before the One who can Easter in our lives; we gather because we want to be transformed, given new life, find meaning and purpose.  Isn’t that what each of us longs for?  What we really want?  To know Easter in us.

Poetry, of course, takes us to places that prose cannot.  It is a way of painting with words and, like any painting it looses something when you try to explain its meaning.  Its power lies in the way the words effect the soul.  It’s the difference between the women described in tonight’s gospel reading from Matthew (28.1f) as running from the tomb with great fear and joy, and the description of Mary Magdalene, in the gospel for Easter Day (John 20.11), standing alone and encountering the risen Christ who forbade her to touch him: she needed to take that encounter to heart, not to make sense of it.

St. Paul in his Letter to the Romans hints at something similar: ‘For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his’ (6:5).  Hopkins, on the other hand, reflects that same faith in fewer words: ‘Let Him … be a dayspring to the dimness in us.’

So here we are, like Mary Magdalene, before the mystery at the heart of our Faith, a Faith that is not focussed on the way we should live, or on the quality of life; not on creating a particular social order or helping people deal with pain and sickness, though it involves all of that and more.  Rather, ours is a faith that is centred on the death and resurrection of Christ.  It asks you and I to stand before that one event (for the two are one, though separated in time) and gaze upon it with loving eyes in the belief that that which you desire, that upon which you set your heart, will change you.  ‘Let him Easter in us.’

BAPTISED INTO LIFE IN CHRIST

This year we’re unable to celebrate this mystery with symbols that speak to us about life: fire and light; bread and wine.   We can’t encounter these sacramentals, as Mary Magdalene encountered Christ, material things which don’t speak into our understanding, but into our heart.  Although there is one symbol we can use – water.   If you can, go now and fill a glass bowl with water … 

We use water to wash and cleanse, to drink and enjoy.  But water also ends life, as it ended the lives of those Franciscans – and it can restore to life.  It is the ocean of birth and the river of death.  Hopkins was moved by the drowning of those five sisters, but he understood their death to be the fulfilment of baptism into new life, their rebirth into Christ, so concludes his poem:

Now burn, new born to the world,

                                                Doubled-naturèd name,

                        The heaven-flung, heart-fleshed, maiden-furled

                                     Miracle-in-Mary-of-flame,

Mid-numbered He in three of the thunder-throne!

Hopkins saw in this wrecked ship the lot of a world gone astray.  He compares it with the ark of salvation, the barque in which we’re saved.  He saw in the water the womb of Mary and the birth of Christ, and beneath the waters of death saw the ground of our being – what he called the ‘granite of God’.   Tonight, we can affirm our own faith in the granite – the Christ-rock: just dip your fingers into the water and make the sign of the cross over yourself …

None of us are immune to the ravages of existence; all of us are at risk of infection.  Sometimes it can feel as if we, too, are drowning beneath the terror of it all.  There will be moments, maybe days or weeks, when we seem to be existing beneath a dark pall, when it seems as if the storms of life will never pass.  That is when we need to hold fast in Christ. 

Eventually the storm will pass and calm will come; it’s then we need to make sure that that which holds and carries us, the faith which we profess, the hope which we have and the love which holds us in his hands, lies at the heart of our attention.  And there will be moments when we just need to bask in the sun of God: ‘Let Him Easter in us, be a dayspring to the dimness in us.’

CONCLUSION

So, let’s live as Easter people!  Live the faith we profess tonight: Christ is risen. For “… if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.” (Roms. 8:5)

This is the night when first you saved our fathers:
you freed the people of Israel from their slavery
and led them dry-shod through the sea.

This is the night when Christians everywhere,
washed clean of sin and freed from all defilement,
are restored to grace and grow together in holiness.

This is the night when Jesus Christ broke the chains of death

and rose triumphant from the grave.

Christ is risen, and hell is cast down!

Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen!

Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice!

Christ is risen, and life reigns in freedom!

Christ is risen, and the grave is emptied of the dead!

Let him Easter in us as we gaze upon him, not seeking to hold him but, rather, to be held in him who is our life and who offers us Easter.

Alleluia!!

SERMON FOR THE BAPTISM OF CHRIST 2020

Sermon preached at the Church of St John the Baptist, Eltham

at Parish Mass on Sunday, January 12th, 2020

 Here is my servant whom I uphold,

my chosen, in whom my soul delights. (Is. 42. 1)

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INTRODUCTION

“Father, I’d like to have Jimmy christened.”  It’s a request I found was made from time to time when I was a parish priest although, like the 89 on Shooters Hill, they either all come at once, or there’s none for ages.  

Baptism is, of course, an important event in the life of a family, as well as the church.  For us it means another member has been added to Christ’s body; that the life of one more person can reveal the glory of God.  For the family, I guess, it means many things.  From “It’s what we should do for our baby” to “We want her to be blessed by God.”  Of course, it’s not just babies who are Baptised.  Many come to the Sacrament as adults – I was 17 when I decided to be initiated into the Faith and Jesus, of course, was baptised by John when he was about 30.  And we’re told that not only did that involve being plunged under water, out of which life comes, but that, afterwards, the renewing power of the Spirit descended on him.  Later the Western Church separated the one Rite of Christian Initiation into Baptism and Confirmation but still, in essence, they form a whole.

THE BAPTISM OF JESUS

Today the Church, as part of the three great Epiphanies of Christ, celebrates his Baptism by water and the Spirit, the second of the ‘wonders’ by which the glory of Christ – the beloved of God – was manifested.  Next week we shall celebrate the third – the changing of water into wine.  

Unusually all the gospels tell us that his cousin, John, presided at that event: Matthew tells us that John performed the Baptism in the context of calling people to repentance (3:10): Mark’s gospel immediately opens with this account (no Nativity scene for him) and speaks of the way people “confessed their sins” (1:5).  Luke tells us that John “went through the whole Jordan area proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” (3:3) whilst John the Evangelist, as respectful as ever, simply tells us that the Spirit descended on Jesus as the Jordan.  Baptism was – and continues to be – associated with a change of life.  It involves recognising the errors of one’s ways and desiring to amend one’s behaviour.   Now that, clearly, causes questions when we baptise babies.  They can hardly repent of their past life and the new life offered through Baptism is accepted on their behalf by parents and godparents. 

But today we also need to pause and ask the question, “Why was Jesus baptised if he was sinless?”  Well, the answer lies in the nature of this event.  What all the gospel writers also agree is that Jesus joined in a general movement that was occurring in Judaism that concerned how people could live out a ‘purer’ form of their Judaic faith.  It was, if you like, a reaction against the corruption of ‘official’ Judaism.  Groups such as the Essenes (of which John may have been part) were trying to live out their faith in a more radical way.   So, you could say that Jesus was ‘associating’ himself with this more radical form of Judaism.  But he was also, in a challenging way, associating himself with sinners, which didn’t go down well with some.   He embraced Jewish fundamentalism at a time when Israel was occupied by foreign troops and ruled by a puppet regime.  Sounds all too familiar!   And, if that were the whole truth of the matter, Jesus may have become just another radical preacher.  But we need to probe deeper.

JESUS AND THE HOLY SPIRIT

What all four gospels also agree upon was that the Holy Spirit descended on Jesus at this time.  In today’s reading from Matthew he tells us that: ^‘… when Jesus had been baptised, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him.  And a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with whom I am well pleased.”’ (Matt 3: 16/17)  So here we have Matthew writing of the way God proclaims Jesus as his Son.  Just recall those words and imagine a proud father telling the world – ‘hey, listen, this boy is my son!’ 

No doubt it’s what every parent feels as their child is baptised and shown to the congregation, but what we need to remember is that, more importantly, we’re made part of Christ’s body.  Isn’t that amazing?  To be made part of the Son of God, part of God’s self – do you ever wonder at that?  That’s why we should kiss each other at the Peace – to acknowledge Christ in our neighbour – and why we’re censed, because it’s a way of acknowledging that we reveal the glory of Christ.  Just let that sink in for a moment.

CONSEQUENCE OF BAPTISM

And that’s also why what happens after we’re baptised is so important.  Christenings may be wonderful occasions, but it’s how those involved go on to live out their promises after ‘the water has dried’ that really matters.   For Jesus. of course, there was no repentance for a sinful past; but there was a turning to the daunting task before him; a setting of his face toward Jerusalem where in about three years’ time he would fulfil his calling as Messiah – Saviour.  Christ’s Baptism represents a profound moment in his search for his personal vocation.  In those brief words, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with whom I am well pleased”, Jesus realised his identity.  So, this Feast also reminds us that each of us has been chosen and called as the beloved of God for a particular purpose.  This was his vocation.

VOCATION

Now I often say that a vocation is a way of becoming the person we’re called to be.  It involves a dynamic response, a personal “Yes”, to be moulded into what we have the potential to be.  The very word means ‘calling’ and involves listening, deeply, and responding to the movements which mould us.  Often, people speak of a vocation to be a priest or religious, doctor or nurse, teacher or artist.  But in the end, it’s about the way in which what we do with our lives expresses who we are.  And vice-versa.  And a vocation can be realised at any time in your life. 

As I grow older, I become more convinced there’s a vocation to be expressed through old age.   A calling to be receptive, more than active – receptive to God’s deepening call.  A call to prayer ‘in the depths’ – rather than a life spent mouldering in front of the TV, trying to re-capture our lost past or trying to look as if we’re 28 rather than 82!  A life to share, in whatever way we can, our Godly faith, hope and love.  I look at the wrinkled face of an old nun and that of some ‘glamorous’ celebrity and know which is more appealing ...

The remembrance of our baptism should spur us on to live out our own vocation.  To be Christ in our own way in our own place.  Every time we cross ourselves with holy water as we enter or leave church; every time we are sprinkled with holy water as happens today, we’re reminded of God's love, grace and forgiveness.  But we’re also reminded of our baptismal resolve to turn from evil and to follow Christ.

CONCLUSION

Two weeks ago, we relished the wonder of the birth of a baby: today we are faced with some of those consequences.    As the waters of Baptism and the oil of Chrism are poured over us in baptism, so we’re united in the death and resurrection of Jesus as he passed through the deep waters of death and rose into a new relationship with God.  The Spirit descended and a voice was heard saying: “You are my son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”  (3:22)   Today, that baby is revealed as a man who will gradually realise his unique vocation:

I have given you as a covenant to the people,
   a light to the nations,
   to open the eyes that are blind,
to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon,
   from the prison those who sit in darkness. (Is. 42: 6-7)

The rest of Jesus’ life will work out his response to that calling. As Henri Nouwen, a Roman Catholic priest, writer, and friend of the marginalized wrote:

"The one who created us is waiting for our response

to the love that gave us our being.
God not only says: "You are my Beloved".
God also asks: "Do you love me?
And offers us countless chances to say, "Yes."

JOURNAL of a PILGRIM to the LAND CALLED HOLY

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 2: Nazareth - Consider your Calling.

Today was the day we spent time in Nazareth, Considering Mary's - and our - call, as temp. climbed into the 30's.  Time at the Orthodox Church at Mary's Well before walking through the Old City and the souk to spend two hours at the Basilica of the Annunciation. Then time in Cana where people renewed wedding and partnership commitments.  Moving.  Eucharist back at the Convent of the Beatitudes.   Touched by deep sense of continuity as we encountered places still occupied by people over millennia.  Signs of Palestinian anger at Israel 's occupation evident even here.   We ended the day with moving hour of reflection in Chapel.   All early to bed tonight after not getting here until 2am this morning.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 3: Galilee - Living out our Calling.

Just back from our 'cruise' on the Sea of Galilee after Mass on the shore at the site of the Multiplication of the Loaves and Fishes.   This is the place where, sadly, Jewish extremists recently tried to set fire to the church but only a part of the cloister was destroyed.   I am told that there have been further threats to destroy churches unless the Pope abandons support for a Palestinian State and 'recognises' the areas occupied by Israel (i.e. the Territories which the UN confirms are illegally occupied by Israel).  Once again it is Christians who are caught in the middle of the struggle between Jews and Muslims.  O pray for the peace of Jerusalem!   And we have seen signs of the ongoing attempts at reconciliation.   So staying here seems very appropriate and we will have a time of reflection on the Beatitudes before supper.

So - Mensa Christi, Church of the Multiplication,  a visit to Capernaum and then a leisurely time sailing on the Sea/Lake.  And lots of silence between the laughter and liturgies.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 4: Mount Tabor and Jericho - the Passion begins.

Left hot and humid Galilee  (38c.) and drove to Mount Tabor to visit Church of the Transfiguration where we celebrated Mass.  Such a beautiful spot where heaven touched earth and glory shone out.   But love also made itself known at the Jordan where we

stopped at the newly re-opened Baptism site.   And here I was truly moved for after travelling down mile upon mile of barbed wire border fencing between Israel and Jordan here all bathed in the waters of the Jordan just 12 feet wide.  And who urged Israel to reopen the site for Christians?   King Abdullah of Jordan  (and  'some" foreign governments  - I dare not hope one might have been our Government - might we ever regain any moral authority  - or interest?). 

So here we are at the Lutheran Hostel in the Old City where the Dome's of Holy Sepulchre and the Rock stand out just a stones throw away.  Tomorrow the Via Dolorosa after Mass in the acoustically wonderful Church of S. Anne

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 5: 'Jerusalem, Jerusalem! '

Salve Regina sung in the most wonderful Church of S. Anne (at the request of one of the pilgrims)  whose acoustics are renowned; a Liturgy for Healing at the Pool of Bethesda; Stations of the Cross including prayers at Station 10 (the Coptic Patriarchate) beneath a banner in memory of the Copts murdered on the beach by ISiL, and walking down the Mount of Olives praying at the churches of Dominus Flevit, the Pater Noster until we reached the Church of All Nations and Garden of Gethsemane - a rich and full day.   At the heart of which - and the goal of this Pilgrimage  - to venerate Calvary and be present at Holy Sepulchre where we shall be at 6.45am tomorrow!  DV.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 6: 'This is my body, given for you.'

Awoken by the call of the minaret(s) from 4.30am!  These Jerusalem days start with invitations to pray which last until the booming bells of Holy Sepulchre begin 40 mins. later.   What to do apart from get up  - which 6 of us did - and go to pray with the Ethiopian's (and Copts, Latins and Armenians) in Holy Sepulchre. At least one can enter Christ's Tomb and pray there!

Later most of us attended the Eucharist at S. George's  (Anglican) Cathedral, which felt a bit like an Arabic outpost of the USA...  Good sermon from the Dean, Fr. Hosam, who preached on the text of the healing of the Syro -Phoenician Woman and drew out the parallels between the lengths she was prepared to go to have her daughter healed and the lengths Syrian mothers go to today to save their children.

After excellent buffet lunch at the College we split up for the afternoon with people visiting the Western Wall,  Armenian Cathedral (and how many people know of the Syrian Genocide of 1915?) etc.  I discovered that the S. Alexander Nevsky Church and Museum was open so visited there with some of the party - and was staggered to see a complete room from the days of Imperial Russia preserved there,  looked after by some young nuns of the Nursing Order founded by the Grand Duchess St. Elizabeth who was martyred in the Revolution.  And a solitary visit to Dormition Abbey and the State - run Chapel of the Upper Room.   Just a museum now...

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 7: Bethlehem - 'And we have seen His glory'

Today we're spending time in Bethlehem.  This meant passing through the Wall of Separation and considering what it means to be living in a virtual ghetto.  That's both Palestinians and Israeli 's for whilst the former suffer ongoing oppression and injustice (illegal Settlements, loss of  land,  destruction of property, curtailment of basic rights etc...) the latter are victims of their own violence and history.  

So, on the day we celebrated the Nativity of our Lord with Mass in the Shepherd's Fields we also reflected on how His members suffer today.  And, through an unfortunate event, we also experienced the way those members help each other when in need.   As we left the Fields one of our party talked of feeling unwell - and where should we be heading but to lunch at the (Christian run - but open to all) Arab Rehabilitation Centre in Beit Sahour, a centre which includes a hospital!!!  Immediately  (!) she was seen by a doctor, tests then carried out and results awaited.  Thankfully not serious and the doctors gave their all-clear 10 mins. before the pilgrims returned from visiting the Church of the Holy Nativity in Bethlehem. The angels were on our side!

But it gave me a chance to talk with the administration  manager who is Syrian Orthodox.  Having fled the Turkish Great Genocide (the generic name for that genocide which the Turks inflicted on minority religious groups in the region) in 1915 her family moved to Bethlehem and now fears the total destruction of their Church.  So many Christians leaving, little hope for the future in their countries, a minority Arab group amongst Arabs - who wants the Christians?  They are so grateful for our interest and support but now fear further take-over of their land - even in the Palestinian Territories - by the Israelis.  There was a deep and painful sorrow in her words and I remembered with sadness the way our government seems to have washed its hands of  (moral) responsibility to protect a deeply persecuted minority in this region.  God forgive our hardness of heart!

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 8th: The Desert

Phew - another hot one!  This was to be our 'Desert Day', and the temperature was forecast to be in the 40's. But, in the event,  the sun was hidden all day by the effects of the 'shakir', a combination of events which brings a smog-like atmosphere throughout the region as fine dust from Egypt fills the air.  So at 8.30am we walked the steep path down (and up) the Wadi Qelt to the Monastery of S. George where Elijah is reputed to have lived in a cave.   Women with dresses and men in trousers were allowed in, together with a large group of Romanians led by their priest (in cassock - I felt I'd let the side down, being a wimp in shorts and polo shirt). Some of our group were allowed in and two came out an hour later glowing with wonder having shared in prayers with the Romanian 's,  been given a tour of the monastery (including seeing the skulls of the monks martyred by the Persians in the 7th.c.), and talking with one of the five - young - monks who seem to form the community. Others less modestly dressed walked further down the Wadi and wondered at the sheer silence,  beauty and sense of remoteness of the place which, in reality, is only a few kilometers from Jerusalem.  Yet it wasn't completely silent as all the time we heard the song of scores and scores of birds.

By noon we had left and were at the site of another community - at Qumran - probably inhabited by the Essenes at the time of Jesus where John the Baptist may have spent time and which must provide one of the roots of early Christian monasticism.  Having considered some of their practices I was struck by certain commonalities, not least by the way we all practice ritualised washing - the Essenes with twice-daily purification baths; Muslims who wash before praying, and  Christians who, apart from the bath of Baptism 'wash' themselves with Holy Water on entering a church and then may throw it over people at Asperges!  

Finally we went on to wash ourselves in the waters of the Dead Sea - and smear ourselves in mud.  And our skin feels utterly renewed!

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 9: Ein Karim, Abu Ghosh - 'Did not our hearts burn within us!'

Today we journeyed to Ein Karim and Emmaus: the first the place of Visitation (between Mary and Elizabeth), the second where the eyes of disciples were opened on the day of Resurrection as they travelled, talked together and broke bread.

And that has been our pattern - to 'break bread' eucharistically (joyfully), break bread in shared meals and talk together.  So each evening - and all this afternoon - pilgrims have reflected silently, shared in pairs and then amongst us all as they have considered what this Terra Divina has communicated to us.  And today, after our Eucharist and lunch in the tranquil setting of the Convent of the Sisters of Sion (founded by a Jew who converted in 1845), we spent the whole afternoon in that simple exercise before attending Vespers in the glorious,  ancient, beautiful and sacred space of the Benedictine Abbey of Abu Ghosh, one of the sites of the village of Emmaus.  So our pilgrimage from the Annunciation to the Resurrection concluded with the haunting song ofFrench nuns and monks from le Bec Hellouin twinned, of course, with Canterbury Cathedral.

But our first stop at Ein Karim had seen us acknowledge the Visitation by singing the Magnificat and Ave in the beautiful church dedicated to that mystery and then walking through that - sacred - village, now haunted by the murder of so many Christians and Muslims in 1948 as Jewish brigades fought their way up to Jerusalem.  And houses once homes to generations of mostly Christian Arabs are now bijou residences for artists,  their Christian symbols defaced and the ancient mosque under threat of demolition.  One is never far from the realities of history and the pain of people's thwarted lives as one seeks to be open to this Land made Holy by God.

One final reflection.  Throughout it has become clear - by many conversations with different people - that it is not the obvious injustices carried out by those who exercise power and control but the gradual drip, drip of injustices - the development of illegal Settlements,  confiscation of small amounts of land, daily oppressive treatment of one people by another, obfuscation by the State - all this and more which is, slowly, wearing down a people until a sense of hopelessness sets in.  Or until people say enough is enough - which is when their pain and anger can erupt in violence.

We ended today's journey with a sense of sadness as we said farewell to Bassam Abdalla, our excellent Guide who, for nine days, had shared his faith and passion, as well as his wisdom, knowledge, hopes and fears for this Land.  Tomorrow our journey ends as we celebrate for one last time that meal which our Lord shared with His disciples in a room just metres from here.  And we shall take as our theme His Ascension which occurred from a spot we shall gaze upon from our roof top setting.  So finally we must say : O pray for the peace of Jerusalem!

LOVE ACTUALLY IS ALL AROUND

THE BAPTISM OF THE LORD (Yr. C)

Sermon preached in the Church of All Saints, New Eltham

at Parish Mass on Sunday, 13^th January 2013

X

INTRODUCTION

“Father, I’d like to have Jimmy christened!”

That’s a request I found was often made although, like buses, they either all came at the same time or there were none for ages.   It is, of course, an important event in the life of a family, as well as the church.  For us it means another member has been added to Christ’s body, the church.  For the family I guess it means many things.  From “It’s what we should do for our baby” to “We want her to be blessed by God.” 

Of course, it’s not just babies who are Baptised.  Many come to the Sacrament as adults (I was 17 when I made my decision to be Baptised and Confirmed) and Jesus, of course, was baptised by John when he was in his early 30’s.  Centuries ago the Western Church separated the one Rite of Christian Initiation into Baptism and Confirmation but, in essence they form a whole.

THE BAPTISM OF JESUS

Today the Church, as part of the Christmas cycle, celebrates that event, the Baptism and - in a sense Confirmation - of Jesus.  All the gospels tell us that his cousin, John, presided at that event.  Matthew tells us that John performed the Baptism in the context of calling people to repentance (3:10): Mark actually opens his gospel with the story and speaks of the way people “confessed their sins” (1:5).  Luke tells us that John “went through the whole Jordan area proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” (3:3) for Baptism was – and continues to be – associated with a change of life.  It involves recognising the errors of ones ways and desiring to live a new life.   Now that, clearly, causes questions when we baptise babies.  They can hardly repent of their past life.  Instead the new life offered through Baptism is accepted on their behalf by their parents and godparents. 

But today we also need to pause and ask the question, “Why was Jesus baptised if he was sinless?”  Well, the answer lies in the nature of this event.  What all the gospel writers are agreed upon is that he joined in a general movement that was occurring in Judaism that concerned how men and women could live out a ‘purer’ form of their faith.  It was, if you like, a reaction against the corruption of ‘official’ Judaism.  Groups such as the Essenes (of which John may have been part) were trying to live out their Jewish faith in a more radical way. 

So one could say that Jesus was ‘associating’ himself with this more radical form of Judaism; he embraced Jewish fundamentalism at a time when Israel was occupied by foreign troops and ruled by a puppet regime.  It all sounds very familiar!  And, if that were the whole truth of the matter, Jesus may have become just another radical preacher.  But we need to probe deeper.

WATER

First of all, all our readings concern, in some way, that most basic element – water.  Water brings life – and, of course, death.  It has come to symbolise starting afresh, and it has been used as the passage to eternity.  We might look at a perfect sunset over the ocean, but we know the destructive power of a tsunami. 

Water – life and death, hope and despair.  In a way, we have absolutely no control over water; some pray for rain, others pray for the rain to stop.  Like the air we breathe, water is something we long for, and something we fear.  Perhaps it’s those properties of water that make it such a perfect symbol of the grace of baptism.

Water is one of the most evident features in scripture.  From the opening words of Genesis, where the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the deep, through the story of Noah and the covenant between God and God’s people, to the Red Sea, and then to today’s anointing of Jesus’ ministry through his own baptism, water has woven the story of God’s life and ours together.

Baptismal water flows today: in our passage from Isaiah, we’re reminded that even as we pass through raging waters, God is with us.  Overflowing rivers will not drown God’s people.  And why?  Because the word of the Lord – those wonderfully reassuring words – through Isaiah says, “Do not fear not fear, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name, you are mine.”

Of course water here is an image.  Earthly water and fire – another image in today’s passage – can do us bodily harm.  Water and fire bring life and death.  But when we dig deeper we realize that God is reminding us that no earthly thing can keep us from the love and comfort of God.  Even if nature overwhelms our bodies, God’s spirit is with us.  God’s love comforts and heals.  This isn't just an historical telling of the start of Jesus’ ministry. This message is for us, too. But you might say, we know this story. We know it’s important to be baptized. But do we take our baptisms seriously today?  We certainly still take water seriously, its ability to affect both life and death, but if we really took our baptism seriously, wouldn’t our world and our church look different? 

Think about those promises we all made at our baptism, or were made for us – promises we renew each Easter at the Great Vigil Mass of Easter:

-           We promised to keep alive the apostles’ teachings and the prayers. 

-           We promised, as those people did at the Jordan, to acknowledge our sins, repent, and           return to the Lord. 

-           We promised to see Christ in each other and to respect the dignity of every human being.

-           We promised to work for justice and peace.

We didn’t promise just to think all these things would be nice.  We promised to DO something about them – to WORK for them.  That’s what we are reminded of today.

That is why we have a lectionary cycle.  It is why the church asks us to consider the story of our salvation, and everything that entails, over three years’ of readings.  It helps us to look at all God has done for us; to remember that no matter what, God cares deeply for us and promises to be our strength.  Hearing again and again the story of John and Jesus at the Jordan should cement in our minds that we must keep the mission and ministry of Jesus alive.

A RE-CREATING GOD

So we know it’s through Baptism we are to share in this new life in Christ.  And all the gospels recount that the Holy Spirit came upon Jesus.  Here is a new creation made possible by God.  And here is God saying to Jesus, and to us, you are my beloved.  Perhaps this is the most important message the church has to preach to our society.  We are loved more deeply and more intimately than we can ever imagine.  And the more we love, the more we reveal the glory of God.  I sometimes try and focus on this fact.  Walking down the street, travelling on the tube, sitting in the park – all this, all this abundance of life – is given because of love.  It can fill the heart with wonder.  The trouble is, most of us, most of the time, don’t even notice. 

In a society where makeovers appealing to our insecurities and doubting our worth, occupy the TV networks to an alarming extent, we need to shout out to people that they are beautiful in the sight of God.  Open your eyes and see the signs of glory in your lives.

CONCLUSION
Today, in churches around the world, people are still being baptized, still being washed in the living waters, still thirsting for God's grace and a word of forgiveness and life, still waiting to be included, to find their place in the story of healing and salvation, still longing for the chance to start their life again.  And there is that voice constantly speaking to each of us: ‘You are mine, and I love you.’

It’s easy to feel that things are getting worse and wonder what God is doing, but this Feast, together with last week’s celebration of the Epiphany, proclaims the manifestation of love.  Divine Love in the darkness.  Love actually, as the film maintained, is all around, creating, sustaining and revealing.  For all men and women – and the whole of creation – is God’s beloved.

Amen.

EASTER 4 - Sunday, May 3rd 2009

INTRODUCTION

Now the bright morning-star, Day’s harbinger,
Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her
The flowery May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.
Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire!
Woods and groves are of thy dressing;
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

So wrote John Milton, one of our greatest 17th century poets. May is a month that many of us love above all others for it heralds the end of winter and the coming of summer. May is the month when our landscape changes, our gardens come into flower and the trees are newly clothed in green. The American author and philosopher, Henry Thoreau, put it even more succinctly when he declared: “Spring - an experience in immortality.”

Today, as we continue to celebrate the joy of the resurrection and our desire that Christ might Easter in us, “be a dayspring to the dimness within us”, we are presented with three focii for our attention. Firstly, Jesus’ gospel affirmation that he is the Good Shepherd. Secondly, the Baptism of Alfreda. And finally, the Crowning of Mary on this, the first Sunday of Mary’s month of May.


CHRIST, THE GOOD SHEPHERD
“I am the good shepherd.” said Jesus. “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” Shepherds, of course, are few and far between in Romford these days! I guess few of us will have ever met one. And as to talking about people as a lot of sheep, well, that could be thought of as highly insulting. When I lived at Hilfield Friary, in Dorset, my room overlooked the next-door farm and, at this time of the year, I had to put up with the sound of sheep bleeting away all night long. During the day, all they seemed to do was to aimlessly wander around the pastures chewing on this or that piece of grass.

And the shepherd who looked after them couldn’t have been further removed from the image we often have in the bible – someone who searches out good grazing on the barren hillsides of Palestine. This one used to whiz around the hillsides on a noisy four-wheeled motorbike!

“I am the good shepherd.” said Jesus. The emphases here is not on the sheep but on the shepherd and it’s one of the great “I am” statements that St. John places on the lips of Jesus and which he concludes by saying: “I lay down my life of my own free will and … I have power to take it up again.” St. John’s focus is on Jesus and on that dynamic of letting go and raising up, abasement and glory. The sheep in the parable need to be understood in relationship to the shepherd, and because of his power to bring new life they trust him and follow where he leads. The Good Shepherd will lead them into fresh, life-giving pastures.

But there’s more to the parable than this. The Israelites were a nomadic people whose wealth lay in sheep-rearing. This distinguished them from other nations, such as the Egyptians, and gave rise to the concept of the ideal leader as a Shepherd-King, an ideal focussed on David. The Shepherd-King not only provided pasturage but liberation from foes and protection from danger. Hence Isaiah prophesied that God would call the Persian King, Cyrus, “my Shepherd” because of his role in liberating Israel from Exile.

So for Jesus to say “I am the Good Shepherd” was for him to claim to be the Shepherd Israel sought – a claim which was political as much as a religious.

In the Old Testament Ezekiel had railed against the shepherds of Israel and prophesied that Yahweh Himself would take the role of Shepherd once more: he would rescue them, gather them in and give them good land for grazing:
“I will search for the lost
recover the straggler
strengthen the sick
leave the healthy and strong to play
and give them their proper food.” (Ez. 34: 16)

We’ve moved a long way from those insipid Sunday School pictures of Jesus: here he is projecting himself as the true leader for Israel. And, more than that, just a few verses before, Jesus had said: “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep.” (Jn. 10:7) Shepherds in his day literally slept in the entrance to the sheepfold, both to protect the sheep from scavengers and to prevent them wandering off at night. Nothing could get in or out unless without permission of the shepherd.

Last week I asked how we ‘enter’ the Church – the people of God, or the ‘fold’ if you like – and the answer, of course, is through Baptism. Baptism into Christ enables us to become part of Christ’s fold, his Body.

Today we are welcoming Alfreda into this fold and the one lesson I hope her parents and godparents will take from our readings today is simply this – the she will need to keep her eyes fixed on Jesus – the Good Shepherd. And she will be helped in doing this if you, her parents and godparents, set the example. There is so much in the world that invites our attention, but keeping one eye firmly focussed on Jesus will make sure that the way we view and respond to life is through his eyes and heart. The Church, the fold of Christ, is there to nurture and nourish her. Here we are fed through Word and Sacrament: our Good Shepherd offers us His life and assures us that he will never desert us. We only need to look to Him.


MARY’S MONTH OF MAY
And, in all this, we have the example of Mary, the Mother of Jesus. She who said: “Do whatever he tells you.” (John 2:5)

This month, which is about new-birth and new creation, has long been called ‘Mary’s Month’ because Mary, like the season, was pregnant with new life. So that wonderful phrase of Gerard Manley Hopkins, ‘Let Him Easter in us’ has a very particular resonance. Let Christ’s life, pregnant in Mary, be realised in us. Let His new life, pregnant in the world, Easter in us! As Hopkins wrote in another poem:
Ask of Her, the mighty Mother.
Her reply puts this other
Question: What is Spring?-
Growth in every thing… (The May Magnificat)

At the end of Mass we shall crown the statue of our Lady and salute her as our Queen and Mother. She who carried the seed of new life reminds us of the way in which each of us is invited to bring new life into the world. Each of us is called to be creative, like Mary, and make our own ‘yes’ to God. To offer ourselves to be bearers of His life and His love in the world.

CONCLUSION
So let today recall us, in all these different ways, to the new beginnings, the ‘green shoots’ of new life, which the Christian Faith seeks to affirm and nurture. Christ calls us to Himself, the Good Shepherd, and invites us into relationship with Him. To turn our gaze to Him as sheep to the shepherd, or a child to its Father.

To look to Mary and find, in her, encouragement and inspiration as we seek to nurture the life of Christ within us and within the world.

Holy Mary, now we crown you
Honoured queen of all our race
Noble Virgin, may our tribute
Win your love and gain us grace.

Queen of heaven, while creation
Speaks the grandeur of God's love,
Mould our hearts to seek his glory;
May we see the Shepherd’s face.

Amen