Reading the Bible and learning from lessons – a sermon for Bible Sunday

October 29th 2023

The last Sunday after Trinity – also Bible Sunday. The readings for the day are printed below: Leviticus 19: 1-2, 15-18 and Matthew 22:34-end

Today is Bible Sunday. My aim in this sermon follows the words of our collect for Bible Sunday. We pray to God, who caused all holy scriptures to be written for our learning. My aim is to encourage you to confidently expect to learn from the Bible and that we can confidently expect to read, mark, learn and inwardly digest them.

My first point is simple. The Bible isn’t one book – seeing it as one book would make it daunting and off putting. It’s a library and a boxed set. For most of our centuries most of the readers of scripture have been people who couldn’t read or who didn’t like reading. They will only have heard scripture being read. They certainly would never have had their own copy of the book version. That only became possible with the invention of the printing press – until then you could buy a house for the cost of a Bible.

The Bible and Christianity isn’t for the clever. In Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians he reminds his brothers and sisters: “think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong”. (I Cor 1:26f).

It’s not about being clever, influential or posh. In fact, the clever, influential and posh are going to be the last people to “get” scripture. Hear Mary singing in her song we call the Magnificat of the rich (presumably the rich and clever) being turned empty away while he lifts up the humble and fills the hungry with good things. (Luke 1).

It’s not about being clever. It’s not the clever writing clever things for clever people. It’s people who share the experience of being bruised and battered helping those who are poor in spirit get through the experiences of being bruised and battered – and those who go to their aid. You don’t need a degree. Jesus didn’t teach in a university. He taught in the heart. 

And he taught in the heart of a people who were bruised and battered by centuries of bitter experience of empire. They’d been enslaved, persecuted, occupied, exiled, crucified. The conflict we are witnessing in Israel and Gaza has a long and complicated history and we do well to remember that Jesus taught at the heart of this history.

Those of us who read the Bible who have never known exile, persecution, poverty or who have never been at the wrong end of identity politics do well to remember that we are reading the scriptures of those who have. We read over their shoulders – at best, as their guests.

A large part of our scriptures is focused on Jesus – even a lot of the Old Testament is about Jesus, and the books of the Old Testament were Jesus’s scriptures with Psalms being his prayer book. Jesus is always understandable. He made it so. Even his enemies understood him and that is why they were so infuriated by him.

He was always casting around for images that would speak to people about his passion – his passion for the kingdom of heaven. He spoke of things his followers would know, of seeds and weeds, of leaven in loaves, of losing things and finding them again. He aimed to be understood.

The difficulty of following Jesus isn’t that he is hard to understand. The difficulty in following Jesus is facing the challenge of his teaching and accepting the cost. The response of those who want to hear Jesus has never been that they have felt mystified and lost, but have been amazed and felt found.

Today’s gospel (at least the first half) is typically simple and straightforward. A lawyer, a Pharisee, asks Jesus what the most important commandment is. (There are 613 commandments in the Old Testament.) It wasn’t hard for Jesus to choose because the answer was well known. It was what they were told to talk about at home, when they walked along the road, when they lay down and when they got up. They impressed it on their children. It was wrapped around their heads and hands and pinned to their doors, and it’s a verse from Deuteronomy: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” The lawyer gets a straightforward answer to a straightforward question, until …

Jesus adds a second which twists the meaning. Again he answers from scripture – it’s the other reading we have had, from Leviticus: “a second is like it” he says. “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.”

That’s not hard to understand is it? But it’s hard to put into practice isn’t it? The lawyer will have known where the reference came from and what the commandment spells out. We’ve heard it ourselves this morning (from our OT reading from Leviticus) what loving your neighbour means “you shall not render an unjust judgement; you shall not be partial to the poor or defer to the great: with justice you shall judge your neighbour. You shall not go around as a slanderer among your people, and you shall not profit by the blood of your neighbour.”

This is where it gets more difficult as we deal with culture and context that isn’t ours. It all needs translating for us so that each of us hears in our own language – which is God’s intention made plain at Pentecost when everyone heard the preaching of the apostles in their own language.

Scripture always raises questions and those questions are taken up by scripture itself in many cases. Jesus adds the second commandment about loving our neighbour to the first and then says everything, the whole law and the prophets, hang on these two. But then the question is raised (in Luke’s gospel) “but who is my neighbour?” How do we translate that?

Jesus translates for us by drawing a picture of a man, bruised and battered lying in a gutter. He takes three people by this helpless victim and asks which of them was the real neighbour. The answer we all know to be the one who stopped and so generously and tenderly helped. And that person turned out to be a Samaritan – who the Jews despised. Jesus gave that lawyer and all who have shared that story ever since, a new meaning, a new twist, a new challenge and new translation to the question of “who is my neighbour?” – something along the lines that you don’t really know who your neighbour is until you’re in trouble and that your neighbour can be a total stranger reaching across all sorts of barriers.

We might argue that Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan doesn’t have the same impact on us as it would have had on those who first heard it because they were Jewish people caught up in the prejudice against the Samaritans. 

We might also be tempted to think about who we are good neighbours to – who is going to receive our kindness and generosity. Our own national history tends to cast us as winners, generally not knowing exile, occupation or poverty, so our focus may be on the helper rather than the victim. So, we could tell the story differently – such as imagining you’re in the metaphorical gutter, bruised and battered, you don’t know where to turn. You have neighbours but they don’t know you and you don’t know them. They are no help. You have family, but they’re all busy with their own lives and they’ve mostly moved away. But there was one person who saved me – and here we full in the blanks. S/he was a ——- I’d never met them in my life. They were so brave. They never left my side. There was nothing that was too much trouble.

We never know who is going to come to our help do we? And we would turn none of them away would we? And we would be forever grateful to them wouldn’t we? And we would call them our neighbour, our good samaritan. In that one person we come to understand what it means to be a neighbour – and nothing less will do.

Jesus makes it easy for his followers to understand his teaching about the kingdom of heaven. He was hardly going to make it difficult was he? He’s a teacher who loves his followers, and his followers love him for his teaching.

For those whose heart is set on God’s kingdom the Bible is easy reading and those who are powerful, rich and clever according to the kingdoms of this world are always going to find our scriptures mystifying unless they have a change of heart.

I want to finish with a word for those who read our scriptures in our worship on Sundays.

First of all, do you realise that Jesus was also asked to read scripture in worship? You’re on the same rota. So much depends on the public reading of scripture. 

Our attitude to the Bible is shaped by the way the Bible is read in worship. Those of you who take on the role of readers are translating the text from the lectern into our hearts and minds. Every word counts and will carry its own resonance, so each word needs to be heard. 

It’s important to be as inclusive as possible for the sake of the hard of hearing and the sake of those easily distracted. It’s important that the language we use is as inclusive as possible – try not to use exclusive language. Yes, at one point, “men” and “brothers” may have been inclusive terms but they no longer are and exclusive language is offensive because we can do better if we care. Our call is to love our neighbours, not to unnecessarily offend or exclude them.

Our great translators have loved us with their efforts to bring God’s word alive. It cost some their lives. We owe a huge debt to our translators. Those who read in public worship are our translators. They need our prayer. I’ll ask them to stand while we pray for them.

Let us pray: 

Loving Lord, in Jesus you make plain your word,
we pray for our readers,
that you may give them boldness of spirit
to compensate for shyness and self-consciousness.
We pray that you will be with them in their preparations
that they may translate the word of the page to the heart of our communities
through love for our neighbours,
so that all of us come to help one another
to hear, read, mark and inwardly digest
your word of salvation.

Leviticus 19: 1-2, 15-18
The Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
Speak to all the congregation of the people of Israel and say to them; you shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.
You shall not render an unjust judgement; you shall not be partial to the poor or defer to the great: with justice you shall judge your neighbour. You shall not go round as a slanderer among your people, and you shall not profit by the blood of your neighbour: I am the Lord.
You shall not hate in your heart anyone of your kin; you shall reprove your neighbour, or you will incur guilt yourself. You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people, but you shall love your neighbour as yourself: I am the Lord.

Matthew 22:34-end
When the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, and one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. ‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’ He said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’
Now while the Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus asked them this question: ‘What do you think of the Messiah? Whose son is he?’ They said to him, ‘The son of David’. He said to them, ‘How is it then that David by the Spirit calls him Lord, saying,
“The Lord said to my Lord,
‘Sit at my right hand,
until I put all your enemies under your feet’”?
If David thus calls him Lord, how can he be his son?’ No-one was able to give him an answer, nor from that day did anyone dare to ask him any more questions.

Do I look good in this? Thinking about the wedding guest who got kicked out

This is a sermon on the parable of the wedding banquet (or the wedding guest) from Matthew 22:1-15 (the text is below).

Do I look good in this?

You all look very well turned out, if I may say so.

But not a patch on how people dressed for worship, say 50/60 years ago. Then people had their “Sunday best”. If you saw someone in the street in their Sunday best you knew they were on their way to the church.

What was that all about?

Was there a sense you had to look your best? Who for? Was it that you had to look your best for the neighbours (or look better than the neighbours, or look better than you really were)? Or, was it looking your best for God?

By and large God doesn’t do clothes.

In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus taught his followers not to worry about what they should wear. “Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow, they neither toil or spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these.” (Matthew 6:28f) When Jesus sent out the 70 he told them not to take purse, bag or sandals. Adam and Eve didn’t wear so much as a stitch. It was only when they started to be ashamed that they put something on. Their clothing, which didn’t hide much, is associated with shame.

But then there is the guest who turns up at a wedding without a wedding robe. He sticks out like a sore thumb to the king who had invited him. He is thrown out. Not just thrown out, but bound hand and foot, thrown into the outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. He’s not just thrown out, he’s thrown out, out. He’s not thrown out into the dark where there would still have been some light coming from the windows. He’s thrown out into the darkness beyond that, where there is no light and just the piercing screams and howling and the sound of weeping and gnashing of teeth. In other words, this was a serious expulsion.

For wearing the wrong clothes? I don’t think so!

This was a wedding feast the good, the bad and the ugly had been invited to. These are the ones who accepted the invitation that others had refused. They weren’t the first to be invited, they were the last to be invited, as is fitting for the rule of the kingdom of heaven which puts the last first and the first last.

Think who they might have been from the streets of Leamington, this mixture of good and bad. Borrowing from Ralph McTell, have you seen the old man from the closed down market, the old girl, dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags? The street vendors, Big Issue sellers, the Deliveroo guys, the shoppers, the drunks, the pensioners who usually meet on one of the benches, children and their harassed mothers …….these are the people the king chooses to invite – anyone they met on the street, the good and the bad who happened to be there.

Maybe the custom was for the host to give the guests a wedding garment – sort of overalls – and this man had refused and made an exception for himself. Could this parable be a judgement on the “exceptional man”, those who think they can be an exception to all the rules, including the rule of the kingdom of heaven which puts the first last and the last first? We’ve known political leaders and serial abusers like that haven’t we? And the outer darkness is where they need to be.

Maybe the garment has greater meaning. What if the wrong garment was not so much about wearing the wrong clothes but other things he had on?

For example, did he have a cob on? What was the bearing he was wearing? What if he had a face on? What if he had a face on him which showed his disgust for the host, the king, who had invited the good, the bad, the ugly off the streets?

In which case, this parable becomes a judgement on judgement itself.

Of all the wrongdoings of those partygoers the only crime that is singled out is judgementalism. It’s the judgemental one who is cast out. All the others remain, the whole company, good and bad. The disgusted face was a face set against his fellow guests.

The face he had on him was the face of hypocrisy – accepting the invitation of the king for himself but throwing it back in the king’s face. It’s the face of one who is hyper-critical of the king. And if it is the kingdom of heaven the parable is likening the wedding feast to, then the king the guest is offended by is none other that the ruler of the kingdom of heaven.

Is it the judgemental (and their air of arrogance and superiority) who are singled out for that outer darkness? Is that place of outer darkness where the judgemental are – where the light of grace cannot pierce because of the pride at their heart? Was it his blasphemy against the spirit of the king?

We don’t always know what Jesus means in his parables. As disciples we are always looking to understand, with our ears, eyes, minds and hearts open to the challenges of the life of the kingdom on earth, as it is in heaven. We have to have a go at what this parable means for us.

Here’s my go.

Remembering that the last are first in the kingdom of heaven and the first last we can assume that this is a celebration for those who were invited last, not first. It’s for down to earth people gathered from the streets and we are to assume that we are amongst them, as one of them, the last chosen.

It’s about the bearing we’re wearing. It’s a lot more than clothes. It’s about our attitudes, particularly whether we show grace and mercy. It’s about how we set our faces to our neighbours, both the good and the bad. It’s about how we honour the host, the king and ruler of heaven. It’s about our love and understanding.

Have we got it in our locker to avoid the fate of the guest who was bound hand and foot and cast into outer darkness?

The language of clothing can be helpful. The parable uses the language of the wedding garment. Religious garments are often called habits. As novices for the kingdom of heaven, what habits do we need to put on? What habits do we need to have to grow as disciples? What are the habits that are going to set our faces right? What is the lifestyle we need to in-habit to help us fit the company God has chosen.

We’re best letting the host of the wedding feast choose for us. Listen to him as he says “put this on”, “put this on”, “try this”. Paul, in Galatians 3, talks about us being “clothed with Christ” so that we are all one in Christ and there are no longer the divisions of Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female. We could say it’s cross-dressing. The author of the letter to the Ephesians talks about us putting on the whole armour of God for our struggle against the rulers and authorities of this present darkness – the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the helmet of salvation.

Jan Richardson has this prayer for getting dressed:

In your mercy
clothe me

in your protection
cloak me

in your care
enfold me

in your grace
array me.

With your justice
dress me

for your labour
garb me

by your love
envelop me and fit me
for your work.

Matthew 22:1-14
Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: 2‘The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. 3He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. 4Again he sent other slaves, saying, “Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.” 5But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, 6while the rest seized his slaves, maltreated them, and killed them. 7The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. 8Then he said to his slaves, “The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. 9Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.” 10Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.
11 ‘But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, 12and he said to him, “Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?” And he was speechless. 13Then the king said to the attendants, “Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” 14For many are called, but few are chosen.’