Preached at the Church of St. John the Baptist, Eltham
at Parish Mass on November 24th, 2019
Jer. 23: 1-6; Col. 1: 11-20 and Luke
23: 33-43
‘The days are coming, says the
Lord,
when I will raise up for David a
righteous Branch,
and he shall reign as king and
deal wisely.’ (Jer. 23 5)
ยช
Today is the last Sunday of the Church’s Year: next week we’ll be starting the season of Advent when we prepare for the birth of Christ. We give the title, Christ the King to this Sunday because it reminds us, at the end of the year, that we belong to Jesus. He is the One to whom our attention is to be given; who’s life must inform ours; who needs to reign in our hearts. He is that ‘Righteous Branch’ which Jeremiah spoke of, our leader who has adopted us as members of his reign. So, I want to reflect on some of the things that means: what does it mean that we are members of Christ; that we belong to the Church; that we are to invite others into his reign?
MEMBERS
OF CHRIST
The
primary thing for all of us is that we have been chosen by God: we are His
beloved. For whatever reason we are
members, not of some exclusive club (perish the thought) but of a divine body
of women and men around the world and down through time, one with the saints
who we have been reminded about over these past few weeks. We’re as much members of the whole Body of
Christ as we are of this particular church – something I was reminded of when
we were in Jerusalem with Christians from around the world – and with those who
have stayed faithful in that Land since the time of Christ. Who are so easily forgotten, not least by
those who support the State of Israel in its constant persecution of
Palestinian Christians (as well as Muslims), something the President of the
United States blatantly ignores.
LIFE
IN THE KINGDOM
And
being there also reminded me that we’re all part of the mystical body that has
existed throughout time – something that happens every time we celebrate the
life of a saint – with John the Baptist, Francis of Assisi, Elizabeth of
Hungary and Teresa of Lisieux – with the
martyrs of the early Christian era, the concentration camps of Nazi Germany or
the deserts of north Africa and Arabia today.
The heroes of faith who have gone before us and are part of the eternal
reign of Christ and with whom we are present as we celebrate this Eucharist.
The past
few weeks were, for a while, called the ‘Kingdom Season’ when we were
encouraged to remember that life to which we’re all – in the end – called. Today’s feast is the high point of that
season of remembrance and a final reminder of what it is we’re called to. We cannot see those who have gone before us,
but we believe that we dwell with them.
As St. Paul wrote in his Letter to the Colossians that’s just been read:
‘(Christ)
is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation: for in him
all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible …
He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the first-born
from the dead. … For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell …’ (Col.
1: 15-19)
Aren’t
they such hopeful and encouraging words!
A bold statement that was intended to remind those early Christians, no
doubt caught up in the issues of everyday life, of their amazing calling. It is all about glory: Christ’s glory and
ours. When life seems to be getting us
down, we need to remember these words, for you and I are ‘dust destined for
glory’. We have such a potential – and
yet are so often satisfied with less.
And, sometimes (dare I say it?) we act as though we were less than that
to which we are called. That’s why
making our confession is so important and something each of us needs to
consider. When did you last make yours? Or have you never made one? If not, maybe Advent is a time to consider
doing so for, as St. Paul went on to say: ‘God was pleased to reconcile to
himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the
blood of his cross.’ (Col. 1: 20)
PRAYER
IN CHRIST
In our
prayer we should always begin by recalling ourselves in the presence of, and
realise ourselves as part of, this divine body.
That’s why the opening of the Eucharistic Prayer invites us to lay aside
our earthliness and realise ourselves before God: Lift up your hearts, says the
priest. We lift them to the Lord you
reply and, in so doing, affirm that you desire to be one with Christ in
glory. And his invitation needs our
assent. It’s not a command; it’s an
invitation of love requiring our loving response. As St. Teresa of Avila wrote: “If you would
progress (along) this road (to God), the important thing is ... to love
much. Do then whatever most arouses you
to love.” (Int.
Castle: Ch.1)
The road
towards union with Christ our King doesn’t require us to pass any tests: it’s
the royal road of loving desire for at-one-ness with God. As St. Teresa’s great contemporary, John of
the Cross, wrote in the opening lines of his poem ‘The Dark Night of the Soul’:
On a dark night,
Kindled in love with yearnings
–
oh happy chance! –
I went forth without being
observed,
My house being now at rest
In darkness and secure …
In secret where none saw me
Nor I beheld aught
Without light or guide,
save
that which burned in my heart.
WE
BELONG TO THE CHURCH
The
trouble is, for many people, the church seems more like a club than a living
body seeking a loving union with God.
So, what does it mean to say: ‘we belong to the Church’?
Well,
yes, there is great comfort in belonging to something. To sense that we’re not alone but are part of
a wider body of women and men.
Loneliness is a terrible thing: as someone once said to me, one of the
reasons they came to Mass was to have someone hug them during the peace. At 80 – a widow without children – there were
few people who showed her intimacy. // Sometimes, people regard the Church as
exclusive – a club for like-minded people.
But we know differently! The
Church is as full of differences as the people who belong. And we’re not always going to see eye to
eye. Sometimes, we’re going to strongly
disagree with each other. As Bishop
Rowan Williams wrote:
“If
I conclude that my Christian brother or sister is damagingly mistaken in their
decision, I accept for myself the brokenness of the Body (of Christ) that this
entails. These are my wounds, just as
those who disagree with me are wounded by what they consider my failure or even
betrayal. … How do I relate to them? … I don’t seek
simply to condemn them, but to stand alongside them in my own prayer, not
knowing how, in the strange economy of the Body, their life and mine may work
together for our common salvation. …
And when
I stand in God’s presence or at the Altar, they are part of the company I
belong to.”
Thank
God you, clearly, constantly welcome new people into your midst. All are welcome, whether they’ve been coming
for 80 years or just arrived. We all
belong, and our differences enrich the body.
So, to
those who have belonged for many years I ask: “How many new people have you got
to know? How are you making them know
they belong?” And, to those who have
arrived more recently I ask: “How are you getting to know the wonder of
becoming part of the Body of Christ? How
are you inviting him into your life?”
INVITING
OTHERS INTO HIS REIGN
For the
church does not exist simply to serve the needs of those who belong, but to be
a herald of the kingdom – the reign – of God.
To be a sign of the depths to which God loves this, sometimes crazy,
world. When Jesus was dying on that
cross which bore the inscription, ‘This is the King of the Jews’, love was
crucified. And because it was love that
was being crucified it still embraced the stranger. To the dying thief who
asked to be remembered in the new age, Christ replied: “Today you will be with
me in Paradise.” A church that’s not
reaching out with that same divine love is always in danger of being what some
say we are – a club for like-minded people.
But the Divine Mystery we celebrate is not about what goes on behind
closed doors; it’s about the way the Sacred Heart our King reaches out and
enfolds the world in life and death and would draw all into His Reign.
CONCLUSION
In
realising our union with the saints of all ages within the body of Christ, you
can take heart from belonging to an amazing, living, diverse Body. And we will be known by that which we have
become: a member of that Body in whom people must find the invisible God.
Let me
end with a prayer of that great Carmelite saint whom I quoted earlier – Teresa
of Avila.
Lord Christ,
You have no body on earth but ours,
No hands but ours,
No feet but ours.
Ours are the eyes through which your compassion
You have no body on earth but ours,
No hands but ours,
No feet but ours.
Ours are the eyes through which your compassion
must look out on the world.
Ours are the feet by which you may still
go about doing good.
Ours are the hands with which
you bless people now.
Bless our minds and bodies,
That we may be a blessing to others.
Ours are the feet by which you may still
go about doing good.
Ours are the hands with which
you bless people now.
Bless our minds and bodies,
That we may be a blessing to others.
