When I was asked to write Thought for the day for 5th October, I realised that the reading from Luke was particularly relevent to me because it concerns being anxious about faith; that our faith is not sound enough. We feel guilty that we sometimes have doubts.Luke tells us that even the apostles, who left everything to follow Jesus, got to a point of asking him to help them have more faith. But apparently they are told that even faith as tiny as a mustard seed is enough because if we have faith enough to ask for more, we already have enough.Jesus compared The Kingdom of Heaven to a mustard seed that grows to form a huge tree that gives shelter to all the birds.Faith includes being conscious of your innermost anxieties and also noticing what is going on in the world around us, with all it's chaos and patiently waiting for the light to return. Placing your hopes in Jesus even when things are very dark around you. St Mark says, "Lord I believe. Help my unbelief."St Augustine, said "Crede ut intelligas'', Believe, so that you may understand. A few centuries later, St Anselm famously wrote, 'I do not seek to understand in order that I may believe, but rather I believe in order that I may understand'.During those times when I wrestle with my belief I concentrate on the most important message that Christ brought to the world. That we were to love God and our neighbours. That we share our love with everyone we meet. Not an easy task sometimes and one that requires patience, forgiveness and understanding. In fact, we trust that Jesus will forgive us when we pray to The Lamb of God for mercy in the beautiful Agnus Dei. St Paul writes to the Corinthians of the 3 important rules in following Christ; faith, hope and love and reminds us that love is the most essential.The message is clear and simple and dispels all doubts, for who can argue with this.
A while ago I was shopping in Home Bargains, like everyone else, I’d been caught in a sudden shower, and as we queued, damp and bedraggled, I noticed a man a couple of places ahead. When he reached the till, he leaned over quietly and asked the cashier if he could pay for the lady behind him as well. She was a stranger, no fanfare, no fuss… just a genuine act of kindness. You could see the surprise on the lady's face; his kindness lifted the mood. That small moment of generosity came back to me as I read today’s Gospel. We are given a most striking of parables... a rich man, clothed in purple and fine linen, feasting every day whilst Lazarus, poor, covered with sores, is lying at his gate. When they both die, their fortunes are reversed. Lazarus is carried to Abraham’s side, the rich man finds himself in torment, still blind to the chasm between them.This parable is not just about the life to come it is about how we see and respond to those around us today. Scripture is full of God’s concern for the poor, the overlooked, the forgotten. Amos warned against those who lounge in luxury while others suffer. And today Jesus asks us... who is at our gate? As a hospital chaplain, I often meet people who are alone, no visitors, no family, sometimes even no one to be present at their funeral. Yet every person has a story, relationships, experiences, each one matters. Today’s Gospel tells us that no one is invisible to God. God sees Lazarus, God sees each of us.Loneliness and poverty aren’t only end-of-life issues. Here in Blackpool and across the Fylde there are people in our own streets, in bedsits and flats who live alone, who rarely see a visitor, who feel forgotten. The Beatles once asked in the song “Eleanor Rigby”: ‘All the lonely people, where do they all come from? All the lonely people, where do they all belong?’ Eleanor Rigby, ‘who died in the church and was buried along with her name,’ stands for countless people whose lives pass unnoticed. Yet the Gospel tells us that every name is known to God, every life held in his love. In the hospital I see how God raises up people who notice. Take for example our Chaplaincy Volunteer Team, many from local churches, including St Stephen’s, they walk the wards, offering conversation, prayer, or simply a listening ear. Their love in action reminds patients… you matter, you belong, you are seen.The same is true in parish life, our Friday afternoon gatherings in the church hall might seem small... cups of tea, chat, cake, music, laughter. Yet for some they are a lifeline. In those simple moments Christ is present, quietly transforming lives. This Gospel also points us beyond our town, think of when we witness natural disasters, wars, or injustice, so often we also see hearts moved to generosity. Appeals are launched, donations made, prayers offered. Organisations like Christian Aid remind us that compassion can take root and change lives, tackling not just emergencies but the deeper causes of poverty. The vision of our own diocese puts it well: “Healthy Churches Transforming Communities.” The Good News of Christ is not only about words but about action... bringing hope, dignity, and healing, especially to those whom society overlooks. The witness of history shows what can happen when faith awakens compassion. Think of Desmond Tutu confronting apartheid, William Wilberforce opposing the slave trade, or the slum priests of the Anglo Catholic Oxford Movement, walking the streets of Victorian London. Each began with noticing those whom others overlooked. So today, the parable of Lazarus comes as both a warning and a promise. A warning not to let our eyes be closed. A promise that God sees us and invites us to see with him.This week, we have met a rich man clothed in purple, blind and indifferent to the need at his gate, unable even to share the crumbs from his table. And yet, in Jesus we meet another who was also dressed in a robe... not of splendour, but of mockery. in John 19:2, 5 we read... “And the soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head and arrayed him in a purple robe. Pilate went out again and said… ‘Behold the man!’” Jesus is the one who sees deeply into the mixed motives of our humanity, who knows the depth of our need. he does not give us scraps, he gives us himself, a total outpouring. On the cross he empties himself completely, and here at the altar he feeds us with his very self, the bread of heaven.
When I set out to write a sermon, I tend to go through the same few moves. First I check, for sure, what the readings of the day will be. And double check if the service, like today, is going to be slightly different, today also being our harvest festival. Then I read the readings to see what message leaps out at me. And then, because I don’t have the level of experience that someone like Fr Andrew has, I read a few commentaries or chapters/articles about the readings, usually the gospel. And I go from there. I pray, of course, frequently – asking God to guide which way I am to go. And a number of times I have gone off on one route only to get a sense that I need to do an about face.Now I have been constructively advised, occasionally, about trying to cram too much into a sermon and that I need to remember that less is more. So, not to try and get through the entire gospel reading with explanations or clarifications, but just to focus on one or two points and look at them deeper. But this one……..well, I guess the standout teaching from today’s gospel, at least at the end, is materialism. No-one can serve two masters; you cannot serve God and money. But the parable Jesus tells, the shrewd manager, has by some been labelled one of the most confusing of the parables. Jesus tells it, we are told, to His disciples, His followers, and therefore, also to us – we, too, being His followers.At first glance, I wondered why did the master commend the manager for apparently reducing the debts of the debtors? And I read commentaries which suggested that the manager was feathering his bed, so to speak, so that when he was jobless, at least the debtors will remember that he reduced their debts and would therefore look favourably upon him. And the apparent praise from the master? Jesus is saying that building relationships for future security is far better than building wealth. Even if building those relationships is done by less than honest means. Seems strange, coming from Jesus, but OK, good solid relationships will help us in this life and will also endure into life eternal. Fine. I get that, I thought. As the saying goes, about money, wealth ‘you can’t take it with you….’Then I came across another source which reckoned that this parable was perhaps one of the most confusing of Jesus’ parables. We need to know that in Luke’s time of writing, the manager was effectively an extension of the master. Whatever the manager did reflected upon the master. So, was the manager doing his master a favour? Was the master charging hidden ‘interest’ on the loans and the manager was taking off this interest making the master seem as honest as the day is long? Or was the manager deducting hidden interest that he himself had added to the debts without his master’s knowledge? Maybe the manager was deducting some of the original debts as a way of getting back at the master for sacking him. We don’t know for sure what the back story here is. But what we do know is that the master commended the manager for acting shrewdly. Understandable if the manager acted to cover up the master’s dishonesty; not understandable if the manager was doing the master out of some of his rightful debt. We just don’t know for sure, but I guess that is the beauty of Biblical hermeneutics – each one of us will interpret the same piece of scripture differently according to our lives, history, personality etc.But then Jesus goes on to explain that if you can’t be trustworthy with temporary, earthly wealth, why would God entrust you with eternal riches? If you can’t be faithful with what belongs to another, why would God give you your own? God demands exclusive trust. You can’t worship God on Sunday and then live for money, power, or pride the rest of the week. And it money that so often trips us up. I read during my research for this sermon, that in older translations the word ‘mammon’ was used regularly to denote wealth, money etc. According to a New Testament scholar the words for ‘faithful,’ ‘entrust,’ and ‘true’ in Hebrew and Aramaic all derive from the same root as ‘mammon’ – a word that means ‘that in which one places trust’ and is derived from ‘amen.’ So, Jesus is playing with words in the native language of his hearers. We may think of mammon as evil money, but it’s really whatever you trust when you aren’t trusting God. And here is, I think, where the main message comes in. We should not put our trust in the wrong things. Wealth, status, stuff may make us feel good in this world, but they won’t do us any good when God’s Kingdom is fulfilled and Christ comes in glory.I am as guilty as anyone when it comes to amassing ‘stuff’. I live in a reasonably sized house up near Anchorsholme Park, have been there 40 years now. I live alone with a cat, separated from my husband more than 20 years ago and my son flew the nest years back. And to be honest, I do not know how two other human beings fit into that house with me. I have exploded into it and have barely enough room for my own ‘stuff’ now. And oh, so much of it hasn’t been used, worn, read for years but I simply cannot get rid, can’t declutter. But what good will it all do me come the day of God’s Kingdom? Am I trying to serve two masters? God and my stuff?I heard a Catholic Priest preach recently about detachment. He said it is very important to have a light hold on the things of this world, if we are to have a spiritual life. But in addition to that, detachment brings not only a peace of mind, but also a kind of freedom in letting go. We should ask ourselves if we are hanging on this or that ‘stuff’, because it fulfils some worldly pleasure which only lasts for a moment (in the grand scheme of things), or are we attracted to whatever it is because it is a thing of God, helping to grow our spiritual lives? We should let go of the things, and not just physical things, which risk becoming a god to us (small g), things that we tend to worship – because we are commanded in the first of the Ten Commandments -You shall have no other gods before me.Money can so easily replace God in our lives. It can become our master. If we get too hung up on money, our possessions, then that is a distraction away from God. Money is, indeed, a hard and deceptive master; wealth promises power and control but to paraphrase a Beatle song ‘money can’t buy me happiness’ We may think that when we can buy what we want, that lovely new coat, that bigger car, the most up to date phone, that we will be happy. But are we truly, truly happy? And if we are, it is fleeting, until the next new fashion coat hits the shops, or Apple/Samsung or whoever releases the next phone upgrade. We should focus on eternity, look towards God for our happiness, sustenance. Let Him be our Master, so we can look towards peace of mind and security both now and into the life to come. But it is hard. Believe me, I know. Case in point, what I said earlier – I have way too much stuff that I kind of covet and cannot give away.So let’s not be slaves to two masters. That simply won’t work. Let’s not let money rule our lives, as Jesus teaches. We cannot serve both God and money. God is our Father, He will provide. We must have faith that He will; we must have belief in His goodness. And that involves prayer – we cannot let go of our materialism on our own, we cannot declutter our lives, our hearts without His help. We pray for forgiveness, and with that forgiveness, our hearts will heal. The manager in our gospel today was shrewd. Jesus calls His followers to use the same shrewdness, but in a way that reveals heavenly wisdom. We are called to apply shrewdness but for God’s Kingdom, by investing our resources in eternal matters and using what God has given us to ‘make friends’ for eternity, and for supporting causes that align with God’s purposes. Prioritising eternal gains over temporary ones reflects our hearts’ true allegiance and is a response to God’s generosity. Jesus invites us to accept Him as our only Lord and Master, so that we may have eternal life with Him in the Kingdom of God. But He also invites us to live into that kingdom reality here and now with eternity in our sights.
As you know, I am not concerned with keeping things ‘on the proper day’. Not because of any kind of flippancy about the events we commemorate, but because the days are, so often, guesses anyway and sometimes, given the time differences, simply wrong. Now and again, some self-proclaimed guru will give a date for the end of the world so often it’s Eastern Standard Time, rather than Greenwich Meantime or even Australian time. They must watch the day dawning from the other side of the globe and think ‘heck, only four hours until I’m found out’. The Proper Time of course, and the Proper Day is the time and the day when we accept the Christ is Lord and change our lives in time with His and mark His steps all our days – but these reminders of what goes before us helps us, I hope, on our way. Today we unashamedly recall historical events. Encouraged by his mother, St. Helen, the Emperor Constantine had the sites of Our Lord’s crucifixion and resurrection excavated, and churches built over them. These were dedicated in September 335, on the 14th, although we know not at what hour. The tides of history saw the Persian emperor sacking Jerusalem and removing the relics and then the Byzantine Emperor defeating the Persians and bringing the relics back and forth and to today when Jerusalem and the site of the Holy Cross as contested and battle weary as so many other parts of the world. It does matter where Christ was killed and it does matter where He Ascended to the Father, but only inasmuch as it sets the compass of our life to the ineffable mystery of faith which we celebrate here, today and always.Human beings live in time, space and society. Dates are important. The anniversary of a loved-one’s death weighs on us. Places are important. Few people do without a home; many have favourite places for meeting friends. The well-being of our communities is important. A nation’s sporting success affects the mood of many. The reroofing of a church takes on more importance than mere tiles and slates alone. Cooking for people we love is more than just giving them food. Put all this together, and the destruction, loss, restoration or recovery of some national symbol can be crucial, and the way we venerate the Holy Cross and use it in our lives is of great importance in showing how our faith is practiced. So the Word, who enlightens everyone, became flesh; Mary, her sister, Mary of Clopas, Mary Magdalene, and John, beheld his glory. By grace we can have friendship with God, supernatural light, an intimacy with God destined to grow into heaven’s clear vision; this is a higher sharing in the divine Wisdom.Like our natural light, it could have come to us in a secret, interior way. But no: this divine light comes to us in a more human way. God’s Wisdom was born of a particular Woman, grew up among particular relatives, taught particular disciples, and was nailed to a particular piece of wood. Those who witnessed His hour of glory, found His tomb empty on 5 April in the year 33 (or maybe 9 April in the year 30). From that single time and place, the Spirit flows to people of all times and places. None are excluded from grace; but its characteristic route is the sacraments. Through particular people’s gestures, Jesus of Nazareth reaches down to us through the centuries. We live out friendship with God in particular acts of care. We live out friendship with God both in communities and as a community, a Church. We work for visible unity. We try to ensure that the Church’s leaders live lives of moral goodness and we hope that we support them in that. We endeavour to influence public policy for the common good. We pray for the good estate of the Church; for grace builds on nature, and if the Church flourishes friendship with God is facilitated and those who bear the name ‘Christian’, who have the flag of the cross in their hearts or their hands bear it in the way that the Christ who was nailed to it bore it – as a sacrifice and self-offering for the sins of a broken world who had come to forget His Fathers covenant. The Holy Cross is a symbol of the universal love of God for every human being, who has been, who is and is yet to come, long before and long after our own tides and seasons and languages and customs and buildings have ebbed and flowed. What will be left behind of us, what will remain of us, is grace and love, for that is what remains of Him, bringing us life and hope, from a hill in Jerusalem two thousand years ago, not from a lamppost in Rotherham or a roundabout in Bispham.These are dark times for our world. In dark times, we are not cut off from grace, for grace comes through Jesus’ deliberate self-abasement. When the Emperor Heraclius carried the Wood of the Cross back in triumph after he defeated the Moors who invaded his land, he found he could not enter the Holy Places till he had taken off his crown, and robe, and shoes and humble himself before the King of Kings, who reigned on a throne of wood and of blood. In that sign of love, we conquer.
