Preached at the
Church of St. John the Baptist, Eltham
at Parish Mass
on December 1st, 2019
‘Salvation is nearer to us now
than when we
became believers.’
X
INTRODUCTION
So, once again, we begin the
Season of Advent – four weeks of waiting and preparing to celebrate the
enfleshment – the in-breaking of God – into our world. Each year we return to this theme, and those
of us who’ve celebrated this event many times may wonder at the way it all
comes round again so quickly. Is there
anything more one can say or anything more to experience?
Well, yes, of course there
is. Until we welcome Jesus when he
returns; until we see him face to face; until we know him and greet him as our
saviour; until we realise him in everyone we encounter; until our hearts have
become His home we need these weeks to reflect on how we will respond to his
coming.
This year it’s Matthew whose
writings announce this new Year of Grace; whose Gospel will open to us the
mysteries of Christ throughout Ordinary Time.
The writer may have been that tax collector whom Jesus called, but we
cannot know for sure. Many see in his
writings the hand of a thinker aware of the debates within Judaism in the
period when he wrote – possibly between AD 80 and 100 – who wanted to present
the person of Jesus as the fulfilment of His religion. Jesus is the one in whom the Reign of God
reveals itself – the one whom the prophet Isaiah spoke about: O house of Jacob come; let us walk in the
light of the Lord! (Is.2:5) Certainly,
his gospel gives us far more of the words of Jesus than any of the others
and someone called Papias (c.60 - 163 AD), one of the earliest Church historians, records that "Matthew collected the sayings of Jesus
in the Hebrew tongue." What,
then, of today’s gospel reading as we begin this new year?
THE
COMING OF MESSIAH
Well, firstly it recounts the way
Jesus reflected on the end of the old world with the coming of the Messiah, the
anointed one, who would herald a new order.
Reading through this passage takes me back to walking on the Mt. of Olives
in Jerusalem and looking out over the Dome of the Rock and the Old City.
It’s a remarkable sight made the
more startling by the fact that the best view is from the vast Jewish cemetery
on the eastern slopes of the Kidron Valley, facing an equally enormous Muslim
cemetery on the other side. And the
reason why these cemeteries exist is because both Jews and Muslims share the
same faith – the faith that we, Christians, also proclaim – that the Messiah
will return to Jerusalem to begin this new world order. It’s something we affirm each time we recite
the Creed – the ‘official’ statement of our Christian Faith: ‘He
will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will
have no end.’
Now I
realise how the question of our being judged can raise problems. Most of us don’t like being judged, and some
(often the same people) are quick to judge others. Yet the great religions of Judaism,
Christianity and Islam all affirm that there will be a judgement at the
end of time. And whilst it may be
uncomfortable to have to include this as a statement of Faith, it’s nonetheless
a corrective to that thinking which speaks of rights and not responsibilities;
where many feel they can ‘get away’ with lying, misrepresentation and
wrong-doing without recognising that there’s a price that will have to be
paid. When, in what is being called a
‘Post-truth’ society, some believe they have a right to stir up fear and hatred
without bothering with the consequences which often means suffering for
others. In the end it’s only Satan, the
master of deceit, who benefits. So, at
this time of discerning for whom we should elect to parliament, the honesty,
truthfulness and integrity of candidates must inform our choice.
THE JUDGEMENT
OF GOD
Now one of the great traditions of Advent is to
consider what are known as the ‘Four last Things’ – Death, Judgement, Heaven
and Hell - as we prepare for the coming of the Christ. Whilst for many this pre-Christmas season is
about the fripperies of it all – chocolate Advent calendars, putting up the
decorations and buying the presents – the Church asks us to consider the real
consequence of the advent of God among us.
These four weeks are meant to be a kind of ‘wake-up’ call; a time when
we take stock of our lives and consider how we would respond when we meet God
face to face. How, as we encounter a new
day, we might cloth ourselves in the garments of Christ. And then how we would react to having our
lives laid out before him.
And none of us have lived blameless lives. None.
So Advent, like Lent, is a season for repentance (which is why the
colour of the season is purple) and why we are urged to make our Confession as
we prepare to welcome Christ. I
mentioned that last week because the Sacrament of Confession is one many
Anglicans ignore but which is a real means of deepening our relationship with
God – and offers a corrective to the way we can ignore our sinfulness – it is a
means of cleansing our lives and starting again each time we seek absolution.
THE
JUSTICE OF GOD
But lest we consider the One before whom we kneel
for forgiveness is a stern, condemning judge we need to remember that His
nature is to be merciful and compassionate.
I
‘ve come to realise that this matter of judgement is for my good – that God
wants me to see myself as I truly am so I can face up to the truth of
myself. And, in so doing, seek to be
remade and re-clothed in those garments which will help me to live in the light
of Christ – the armour of light, as S. Paul says. That’s something which makes Christianity
unattractive for some, for the coming of God in human form is to enable us to
be remade in His image and likeness. ‘O
God, you search me out and know me’ wrote the psalmist. God searches us out to ‘find’ us – help us
become the real person we are being created to become.
I have always been saddened by
the knowledge that not everyone wants to grow up. Growth, as we all know, means change, yet
some have stopped growing. They have
become trapped – and that applies to Christians as well. Too many of us have settled for less than God
wants for us. So to all of us Paul says those
words: ‘now is the moment for you to wake
out of sleep. For salvation is nearer to
(you) now than when you first became (a) believer.’
But salvation, of course, depends
on our realising that we need to be saved – saved from our past and present
errors, saved from settling for less than we can be; saved from our tendencies to turn
from light and life. Saved from sin, our
turning from God. Salvation is what God
offers us through the coming of the babe of Bethlehem, who is also our
Judge. As a priest I once knew said in a
sermon:
“Judgement
is not so much something that happens in the future, but rather something that
happens all the time. In S. John’s
Gospel Jesus says: ‘this is judgement, that he light has come into the world,
and men loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.So, in
our heart of hearts, we know we judge ourselves daily by the choices we make; one way or another we all choose between light and darkness, good and evil,
love and selfishness. Day by day these
may well seem very small choices of no great significance, but by these choices
we build up our personal histories and we choose which side was shall take at
the end of the day. Ultimately we are
built up or diminished by these apparently insignificant choices.”
Soon we will be attending to the
message of your heavenly Patron who, recognising that God’s coming was close,
cried: ‘Repent, for the Kingdom of God is
at hand!’ The message is the same;
we need to turn around and face the light of God, our merciful judge, that is
constantly shining upon us. Need to turn
around – repent - and confess our sins to the One who is all-merciful. And then to wrap ourselves up in the clothing
of Christ so that we can say, with S. Paul:
‘it is
no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me.’ (Gal.2:19f)
For at the end of this year, as
the leaves fall and the frost creeps over the land, we're invited to awaken to
the coming of Christ.
He will come
like last leaf’s fall.
One night when the November wind
has flayed the trees to bone, and earth
wakes choking on the mould,
the soft shroud’s folding.
One night when the November wind
has flayed the trees to bone, and earth
wakes choking on the mould,
the soft shroud’s folding.
He will come
like frost.
One morning when the shrinking earth
opens on mist, to find itself
arrested in the net
of alien, sword-set beauty.
One morning when the shrinking earth
opens on mist, to find itself
arrested in the net
of alien, sword-set beauty.
He will come
like dark.
One evening when the bursting red
December sun draws up the sheet
and penny-masks its eye to yield
the star-snowed fields of sky.
One evening when the bursting red
December sun draws up the sheet
and penny-masks its eye to yield
the star-snowed fields of sky.
He will come,
will come,
will come like crying in the night,
like blood, like breaking,
as the earth writhes to toss him free.
He will come like child.
will come like crying in the night,
like blood, like breaking,
as the earth writhes to toss him free.
He will come like child.
– Bp. Rowan
Williams, An
Advent Meditation
No comments:
Post a Comment