Tag: waiting

The miracle of hearing at Pentecost

David HerbertLeave a comment

This is a sermon prepared for a small congregation in a small Warwickshire village. The reading for the day is Acts 2:1-21.

We’ve been watching the ITV drama Code of Silence. It is a vivid demonstration  that all of us hear differently.
Rose Ayling-Ellis plays the part of a deaf catering worker who has the gift of being able to read lips.
So, she can hear what others can’t.
She can hear what people are saying even though there may be a screen between them.
She can hear what people are saying in a crowded bar, or the other side of the room.
So long as she can see them she can make out what they are saying.

We all hear differently. 

All of us are listening for different things.
We listen for nuance, tone of voice.
There are things we are wanting to hear.
Each of you will hear this sermon differently.
You may hear a word that sets you off on a train of thought and you lose the track of the rest of the sermon.
You may listen to every word because there is a word you are desperate to hear.
And the word you’re desperate to hear may well be different to the word the person next to you is desperate to hear.

Some will hear nothing.
Either, I the preacher have been so poor that I have failed to engage,
or we are so frazzled and preoccupied that nothing gets through.

Some may be so physically deaf that all they have to read is body language.
What is the bearing of the preacher?
Is there encouragement? Do I count? Is this good news?

Different generations will hear differently.
Young children will get it differently to those who have grown old and tired.
Men and women may listen for different things.

Those who are first have always heard the gospel differently to those who are usually last and weakened by the ways of society.
Those who usually come first and feel entitled, will be offended by the gospel.
Those who are the least and last, the humble and the humiliated, will feel encouraged, strengthened and empowered.
Those who are prosperous will hear the gospel differently to those who are poor.
Those who suffer pain or grief,
Those who have been wronged will hear differently to their wrongdoer.

And here we are – a few of us in this little place, joining the gathering of Christians across the world, of all ages, races, languages and walks of life, each of us having heard the apostles’ teaching in our own way – and all of us drawn, in some form or fashion, to the way of Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

Here we all are, across continents and centuries, hearing so differently from each other, yet all of us hearing God speak the language of our hearts – and all of us drawing closer together as a result, in spite of the many barriers we’ve built between us down the ages.

That is a miracle!
The one who tells the story of Pentecost in our reading from Acts describes the bewilderment of the crowd “because each heard their language being spoken”.
It’s a miracle of communication,
a miracle of hearing,
a miracle of understanding.

The author tells us that the disciples were all together in one place.
These are the same people whose failings have been highlighted throughout the gospels. Again and again we hear of their misunderstandings, their lack of faith, their betrayals. Even after the resurrection, they still don’t understand.
Jesus tells them to wait.
Not to act, not to preach, not to fix it all.
Just wait.

Their wait ends at the festival of Pentecost, 50 days after Passover, just when Jews have flocked into Jerusalem for the ancient harvest festival of Shavuot.
Originally it was the celebration of the grain harvest – a time of thanksgiving, but by Jesus’ time it had become something more. It had become a celebration of the giving of the Law and the harvest of God’s word.

And on that day, the disciples finally discover what they’ve been waiting for.
They were waiting for understanding.
They hear in their heart, deep in their bones, that all those moments of doubt and failure hadn’t disqualified them, but actually prepared them to be vessels of grace.

It turns out that they were waiting to become the Church,
a people breathed on by the Spirit
and set on fire with a purpose of God’s own making.

And the crowds heard them – not just with their ears, but with their hearts.
They heard in their own languages – not the language of religion or power, but the language of their deepest selves.

It was a miracle.

Not that the disciples spoke, but that the people truly heard.
They didn’t hear a lecture.
They didn’t hear a scolding.
They heard the wonder of amazing grace poured out in all flesh –
sons and daughters, old and young,
rich and poor, insiders and outsiders.

That is still the miracle of Pentecost.
The same Spirit who moved in Jerusalem moves here too –
in our waiting, in our words, in our worship, in our hearing.

Even in our misunderstandings and failures, the Spirit can breathe life and make meaning.
Whether we hear clearly or faintly<

Whether we are full of faith or full of doubt,
the Spirit comes to stir us to love, courage and hope.

We may not speak many languages, but the Spirit speaks ours:
the language of fields and farms,
the language of family and loss,
of longing and gratitude.

If we wait, if we are willing and listening,
the Spirit still comes even here, even now.
Thanks be to God.

Who do we see on our way to worship? A reflection on Acts 3:1-10

David Herbert1 Comment

This is part of a series of reflections inspired by readings from the Book of Acts. This time the focus is on a scene at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple in Acts 3:1-10. The text is included at the end of the reflection. You might want to read that first because, after all, this is just a reflection. This is the part of the passage where I started:

One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the hour of prayer … And a man lame from birth was being carried in. People would lay him at the gate of the temple called the Beautiful Gate so that he could ask for alms from those entering the temple.

And this is the question my reading left me with:

Who do we see on our way to worship? Who don’t we see?

The beggar isn’t named but I want to find a name for him. He is sitting at the Beautiful Gate and has his eye on all those going into worship, including Peter and John. They recognise him though they might not already know him. They see him as he looks at them.

Who do we see on our way to worship? Who don’t we see?

Willie James Jennings, in Acts, writes “At the doorway to worship are those whose very presence should discipline praise and guide hope. Before praises go up to God the poor and lame, the sick and pained must be seen.” (p41). Luke has already given his readers the story of the Good Samaritan featuring the pious hypocrites who fail to notice the needs of the wounded in the gutter.

Who do we see on our way to worship? Who don’t we see?

There is a lot of seeing in this passage. The lame man “saw Peter and John”, Peter “looked intently at him” and said “look at us”. Those in need need to be seen. So many in need remain invisible in corridors of power – being seen by those on their way to worship is their hope.

Who do we see on our way to worship? Who don’t we see?

The lame man, the beggar, probably didn’t know that he too was on his way to worship. Peter and John tell him to look at them. And Peter said to him: “I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give you; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk”. (Acts 3:6). His feet and ankles became strong and he was able to jump up, stand and walk, entering the temple with Peter and John, “walking and leaping and praising God”. (Acts 3:8)

Who do we see on our way to worship? Who don’t we see?

Jesus sees himself in the prisoner, the hungry, the stranger and the sick. In a parable the king curses those who gave him no food, no welcome, no clothing and no companionship. Those guilty ask the king, “When was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and did not take care of you?” He answers them: “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to the least of these, you did not do it to me.” (Matthew 25:31-46). Do we see Jesus in and with the vulnerable or do we overlook them?

Who do we see on our way to worship? Who don’t we see?

Perhaps we see Israel. From the beginning Israel walked with a limp. It might not be stretching imagination too far to see here those who inherited the name Israel from the patriarch Jacob who was called Israel because he wrestled with God. Israel is the Hebrew name that stands for those who wrestle with God. Israelites are bound by the injury and blessing of that wrestling and struggle. Jacob’s hip was put out of joint and he always limped after that. (Genesis 32:24-30). Is this who Peter and John saw? Perhaps significantly, we’re told that the man is more than 40 years old (Acts 4:22). 40 years is always the length of time that Israel waits. Did Peter and John see this man as Israel, limping and lame from the start, and now standing and leaping and praising God? If this is Israel, is this the Jewish people so often overlooked by Christians on their way to worship?

Who do we see on our way to worship? Who don’t we see?

Or, is this the church (or us), lying there lame in our excuses for mission and our attempts at Jesus begging for the power of the Holy Spirit.

Who do we see on our way to worship? Who don’t we see?

I said I wanted to find a name for the man born lame – we have a choice: he is the man born lame, he is Christ, he is Israel, he is church, he is us – all needing to be seen on the way to worship. Whatever his name, he is one who has been lame from the beginning and he is vulnerable. He begs to be seen and he begs to be seen by us, even on our way to worship. We need to make peace with him and take him with us in our hearts and imagination into our worship. If we don’t then our worship is hollow, hypocritical and unacceptable to God.

Who do we see on our way to worship? Who don’t we see?

Here’s the passage:

Acts 3:1-10
One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the hour of prayer at three o’clock in the afternoon. And a man lame from birth was being carried in. People would lay him at the gate of the temple called the Beautiful Gate so that he could ask for alms from those entering the temple. When he saw Peter and John about to go into the temple, he asked them for alms. Peter looked intently at him, as did John, and said, “Look at us.” And he fixed his attention on them, expecting to receive something from them. Peter said, ” I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give you; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk.” And he took him by the right hand and raised him up, and immediately his feet and ankles were made strong. Jumping up, he stood and began to walk, and he entered the temple with them, walking and leaping and praising God. All the people saw him walking and praising God, and they recognised him as the one who used to sit and ask for alms at the Beautiful Gate of the temple, and they were filled with wonder and astonishment at what had happened to him.

New Revised Standard Version, Updated Edition. Copyright © 2021 National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America.

Mission that ends ends: preaching from Ascension to Pentecost

David Herbert4 Comments

This is a sermon preached at Holy Trinity, Leamington for Easter 7(A), the Sunday between Ascension and Pentecost. (I am hoping it will be the first in a series of reflections inspired by readings from the Book of Acts.)

The text is Acts 1:6-14.

When we were finding our way round, when we moved to Leamington nearly two years ago, people kept telling us, “you don’t want to go to Coventry”. 

Apologies to those of you who live in Coventry. Never mind. People will be flocking to Coventry if they beat Luton in the play off final next Saturday, possibly taking the place of my team in the Premier League.

It was a punishment to be “sent to Coventry*. Being sent to Coventry meant people turned their back on you, refused to talk to you, shunned you. 

The origin of the sentence probably dates back to the 1640’s to the English Civil War. Royalist troops captured in Birmingham were taken as prisoners to Coventry which was a parliamentarian stronghold. They were not received warmly by the locals. That’s what happened when they were sent to Coventry.

Samaria from this morning’s reading is the Coventry of its day. “You don’t want to go to Samaria” would have been the equivalent for the Jewish people who found a way round Samaria rather than going through it. Part of the power of the parable of the Good Samaritan is that the hero is a Samaritan and that there was a Samaritan that could be called good.

But Jesus puts Samaria on the mission map, along with everywhere else that was considered off limits.

According to Luke, these are the last words of Jesus before his ascension: You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.

Yes – to Samaria, and to the ends of the earth!

Before this, the disciples ask Jesus this question: Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel? Jesus refuses to give a direct answer. It was an old question, reflecting the old troubles of nationalism brought on by too narrow a view of God’s love. 

Instead of a direct answer to their question, Jesus gives them his last word: a promise of power as witnesses, not just in Jerusalem and Judea, but even in Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.

These last words of Jesus are the first words in the beginning of the church’s missionary journey, a journey which takes us further that we could ever imagine, and a journey which undermines any boundaries which prevent God’s love reaching where God desires, to the ends of the earth.

To the ends of the earth – that is beyond the boundaries, the borders and margins of our current imaginations, undermining any attachment to nationalism, undermining the certainties and conservatism of our belief systems. Guy Garvey of Elbow sings (in Come On, Blue), love transcends anything that ever ends. Love transcends anything that ever ends, including the ends, limits, boundaries set by our imaginations and culture. 

Jesus’s words, to the ends of the earth, would be far too one-dimensional if we were only to think geographically about the extent of God’s mission, as if the first disciples had a map of the world at their disposal.

To the ends of the earth is about love’s reach. Think sociologically, think psychologically, not just geographically, think musically, think any way you can – to the ends of the earth, as far as your eye can see, and further – that is where the love of God goes, that is where the love of God comes again and again.

Think psychologically about the ends of the earth, those who are on the very edge, those in the darkest places, those in self harm’s way, those bombarded with cruel internal voices – this is where God’s love goes.

Think as peacemakers – or, better, live as peacemakers. Who have we made enemies? This is where God’s love takes us.

Think socio-economically about the ends of the earth. Who are in the margins? Who’s all at sea unable to make safety on land? To the ends of the earth – encompassing all ages, including children and young people (and it was good to hear about our partnership with Thrive from Ryan last Sunday), including those in their dying days. To the ends of the earth – encompassing enemies, strangers and those we’ve thought beyond the pale. Think the extent from cradle to grave, from prison cell to hospice bed, from palace to hovel, this is where God’s love goes.

To the ends of the earth is the scope of God’s love and the measure of God’s desire. Love isn’t just for Israel but for everyone in God’s creation. Love reaches far beyond our borders and boundaries, undermining those borders and boundaries, challenging wherever we draw the line between who’s ruled in and who’s ruled out, who’s right and who’s wrong.

The Book of Acts is often described as a book of beginnings. Our reading comes from the beginning of this book of beginnings. They are Jesus’ last words which become the first words of mission. To the ends of the earth – anything less doesn’t do justice to the desire and power of God. These are Jesus’ last words which last till the end of time, to the ends of the earth.

Acts reports the early days of mission, on the troubles Jesus’ followers got into on this journey. In the beginnings of this mission Luke shows us all the old certainties being cast to the wind, to the violent wind of Pentecost. He excitedly shows us people of all sorts being joined by the Holy Spirit, their differences and disputes being resolved by the wisdom and love which constitute God’s mission. 

He shows us what these first words of mission means as he spotlights the boundaries undermined by God’s mission and those affected by them. These include boundaries of gender, sexuality, ethnicity, class and religion.

Love still struggles against the same borders and boundaries we see beginning to be undermined in Acts, which is why I suggest these days of our lives are still the first days of mission. 

This is the beginning where we have to cast our old certainties to the wind, one of the old certainties being that we aren’t fit for such a tall order of mission. Who am I for such a thing? We are bound by the voices which say we’re not good enough, we’re not clever enough and we know we’re not confident enough.

BUT. Luke tells the story of two men in white who ask the disciples, “why do you stand here looking at the sky”. The disciples had seen Jesus ascend, they’d seen him go. But they kept on looking where he’d gone, where he was no more. The two men in white redirect the gaze of the church. They’re saying, don’t look where he’s disappeared, look for where he comes again.

It’s seeing where he comes again which encourages us and heartens us. 

It is when we see him coming again as we break bread together, as we listen for his word in preaching, teaching and prayer, as we see the wonderful work of reconciliation that we become inspired for the joy of mission, and joined by

the Spirit who makes herself known as the strengthener, the encourager and the comforter, empowering us to reach beyond our comfort zone.

We never know how we are going to be turned out. There isn’t one way of joining mission. There’s no stereotype. 

Paraphrasing Paul, there’s a whole variety of gifts, there’s a whole variety of services, there’s a whole range of activities in the mission of God so some of us will turn out to be wise counsellors, others will become healers, others will have gifts for administration, some will become great encouragers, some will become teachers, or nurses, or the sort of heartening person we are always delighted to meet on our streets, or the shy person who thinks deeply and critically about the way things are. 

When praying in God’s mission none of us ever knows who we are going to turn out to be.

Going back to Coventry. The night of November 14th/15th 1940 must have seemed like the end of the world as 30,000 incendiary bombs were dropped on Coventry, destroying 43,000 homes, 71 factories, the city centre, 2 hospitals, 2 churches, killing 560 people and injuring over 1000 more. 

The Provost of the ruined cathedral, Richard Howard, witnessed Jesus’ words as he chalked his words Father, forgive them on the Cathedral’s sanctuary walls. 

He can’t have known how that would turn out to open up a whole ministry of reconciliation with what happened in Coventry as its capital. Nor could he have known that his words, (Jesus’ words) would be the first words of a missionary journey that has taken the Coventry Cross of Nails to the ends of the earth, to so many situations of conflict.

In those days, the days of prayer between Ascension and Pentecost, the disciples, the men and women gathered together, didn’t know how they were going to be turned out, and how their mission would turn out. Neither did Provost Howard. Neither do we as we wait and pray, with our eyes trained not on where Jesus has disappeared, but on where he comes again in the triumphs of love as well as our falls from grace.

Acts 1:6-14
So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” 7 He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. 8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” 9 When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. 10 While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. 11 They said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”
12 Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a Sabbath day’s journey away. 13 When they had entered the city, they went to the room upstairs where they were staying: Peter, and John, and James, and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of[a] James. 14 All these were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, together with certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers.

Note: Acts 1:1-11 is read in churches on Ascension Day and Acts 1:6-14 is read on the 7th Sunday of Easter (Year A)

Ero Cras

David Herbert1 Comment

The Antiphons are one of the cool features of Advent prayer as Christians look forward to the coming of the Kingdom of God. There are seven Antiphons. They all begin with “O”, which is then followed by a title or attribute of Christ. There is one antiphon for each day of the week from December 17th. The Christian faith is spelled out in the initials of the Latin titles in the antiphons. Each title is drawn from Isaiah’s prophecy. Here’s the list (thank you wikipedia), together with reference to Isaiah:

  1. December 17th: O Sapientia (O Wisdom) – Isaiah 11:2f; 28:29
  2. December 18th: O Adonai (O Lord) – Isaiah 11:4-5; 33:22
  3. December 19th: O Radix Jesse (O Root of Jesse) – Isaiah 11:1 and 10
  4. December 20th: O Clavis David (O Key of David) – Isaiah 22:22, 9:7 and 42:7
  5. December 21st: O Oriens (O Dayspring) – Isaiah 9:2
  6. December 22nd: O Rex Gentium (O King of the nations) – Isaiah 9:6 ; 2:4
  7. December 23rd: O Emmanuel (O God who is with us) – Isaiah :14

The initials read backwards from the 7th to the 1st antiphon. They spell out ERO CRAS which means “Tomorrow, I will be there.”  This faith in tomorrow is borne out of the compassionate response to the realities of the present tense/tensions which are rightly seen as lamentable. Richard Beck, in an Advent meditation, describes Advent as  “sort of like a lament. Advent is being the slave in Egypt, sitting with the experience of exile. Advent is about looking for God and hoping for God in a situation where God’s promises are outstanding and yet to be fulfilled.” In a world where everything is “now”, we sometimes lose patience and sight of the fact that now was never intended to be the time, when our churches were to be full, when kingdom was to come in all its fullness. Now is a time of exile, a time of alienation, a time for not being at home in the world, a time of waiting for tomorrow, a time of lament, a time for hope.

Enya captures the spirit of waiting and the hope of tomorrow as she sings the 7th of the antiphons – part of the hymn O come, O come Emmanuel .which paraphrases the seven antiphons.

You may be interested to read about the long now.

Mary’s YES

David HerbertLeave a comment

“According to ancient Christian writers, God waits for Mary’s yes; creation waits; Adam and Eve wait, the dead in the underworld wait; the angels wait; and so do we. With Mary’s yes, hope is enlivened and history is changed. There is an unimaginable future for all people, a future that comes from God. All nations assemble in justice, compassion and gratitude. Salvation is created among us, and the fate of history is altered by a godly presence. This salvation resides in the hearts of those who believe in the gift and who stay awake eagerly to know it is coming. With David we await it, with the nations we long for it, and with Mary we behold it.”

Dianne Bergant