Unconquerable

Here's my article for February:

This February, the seventh Invictus Games will be held in Vancouver and Whistler. The Invictus Games were founded by Prince Harry as an international multi-sport event for wounded, injured and sick servicemen and women, both serving and veterans. They were first held in London in 2014 and speaking at the launch, Prince Harry said that the Games would "demonstrate the power of sport to inspire recovery, support rehabilitation and demonstrate life beyond disability."

The word 'invictus' is Latin for 'unconquered' and according to the Invictus Games website “The term embodies the fighting spirit of the participating men and women, as well as their motivation to move on with their lives, to gain a new place in life, and to not let themselves be defined by the trauma they have suffered.”

'Invictus' is also the title of a poem by the Victorian poet William Ernest Henley that is closely linked with the Games – the 2016 hosts Orlando said “the 16 short lines of the poem encapsulate the indefatigable human spirit, which is at the heart of the Invictus Games.” The poem is an example of stoicism in the face of the author's medical difficulties, including the amputation of his leg as a teenager due to complications from tuberculosis. He talks of his “unconquerable soul” and that despite his circumstances he has not “winced nor cried aloud,” his head “is bloody, but unbowed.” It ends with the famous defiant cry “I am the master of my fate / I am the captain of my soul.”

This is not just stoicism but it is a belligerent declaration of individualism and self-determination. The 'fighting spirit' that motivates the competitors to move on and demonstrate life beyond disability is very commendable, but in this poem it takes a dangerous turn into arrogance and hubris. Henley disregards “whatever gods may be,” only thanking them for making his unconquerable soul, and also disregards any consequences of his actions either in this world or the next.

This is partly because he doesn't believe in God and therefore this life is just a “place of wrath and tears” and after death is only “the Horror of the shade.” Contrast that with the view of the Apostle Paul: “We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself...But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead” (2 Corinthians 1:8-9. Paul lists the things he suffered in 2 Corinthians 6:4-10 and 11:23-27.) Suffering and adverse circumstances will make us either rely on ourselves or turn to God for help. Paul says that God is the one who can raise the dead, who can bring something good out of something bad and that because eternal life exists, this life as meaning and purpose. What good is it to be captain of your own soul if you don't believe there is a destination to sail to?

Reindeer names and nicknames

Here's my December article:

You know Dasher and Dancer, and Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid, and Donner and Blitzen, and you will also know Rudolph. But do you also know about Flossie and Glossie, and Racer and Pacer, Reckless and Speckless, Fearless and Peerless, and Ready and Steady? In 1823, the poem “A Visit from St Nicholas” made famous the first set of reindeer (minus Rudolph who wasn't created until 1939.) Almost eighty years later, L. Frank Baum (who wrote “The Wizard of Oz”) wrote a book called “The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus” and gave the second set as Santa's reindeer. We don't know why he decided to use different names, but it shows that Christmas traditions are not set in stone!

The reindeer names are probably meant to tell us something of the character of each of them, even if their characters aren't developed in the stories, and this is a common feature of story-telling. It also happens in real life as we name pets and even give each other nicknames based on character or skills.

In church there are many Christmas traditions, and we hear familiar readings from the Bible telling of the preparation for Jesus in the Old Testament and the accounts of the events around his birth. Some of these readings give nicknames for Jesus that tell us important things about who he is and what he came to do.

Perhaps the most famous is the titles Jesus is given in Isaiah's prophecy in Isaiah 9:6 “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

'Wonderful Counsellor' tells us that Jesus is wonderful in the sense that he arouses in us a sense of wonder and awe and marvel. As we approach Christmas, familiarity blind us to the amazing events surrounding Jesus' birth, like the angels, the star and the virgin birth itself, so we need to recover our wonder at the very coming of Jesus, how “...within a manger lies / he who built the starry skies.” As Counsellor he imparts wisdom and truth to us, not as just one more voice among many but as the one who has the words of eternal life (John 6:68), who is Wisdom (1 Corinthians 1:24) and Truth (John 14:6).

The name 'Mighty God' has overtones of powerfulness and strength particularly in battle, and this reminds us that Jesus didn't just come to do miraculous deeds, or give amazing teachings, but that he came to fight the spiritual enemies of sin and death. To call Jesus “Everlasting Father” reminds us of his eternal, divine nature and also that his character is father-like. His government will not rule by fear and oppression but will be characterised by peace, justice and righteousness, and he is also the 'Father' of our redemption (Hebrews 2:10-13 and 12:2).

Jesus' title of Prince of Peace is probably one of his best known and reminds us that through his death and resurrection he brings peace and reconciliation between humanity and God (Romans 5:1) and therefore also the possibility of peace between people.

But there are two more names that sum up what Christmas is all about: Gabriel tells Joseph “to give him the name Jesus, [which means the Lord saves] because he will save his people from their sins.” And Matthew tells us “All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: 'The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel' (which means 'God with us')” (Matthew 1:21-23). So this Christmas why not find out more about the God who comes to us as a baby to save us from our sins?

Photo by Norman Tsui on Unsplash

Should we still remember?

Here is my sermon from this year's Remembrance Sunday service at Broughton:

It's now over one hundred years since the first Remembrance Sunday took place at the end of the First World War; this year we commemorated the 80th anniversary of D-Day; next year we'll celebrate the 80th anniversary of VE Day – and very few of those who remember those events are still alive today. So it might be reasonable to ask the question, do we still need to carry on remembering? After all we don't still remember the battle of Waterloo in the same way, and that too was a war to stop a dictator taking over Europe.

It seems to me that Remembrance Sunday is important especially for those who don't believe in God but still want to hold on to the idea that there are moral absolutes – that some actions are right and others wrong; that some actions are good and others are evil. Without God to define what is right and what is wrong it is necessary to come up with another standard for morality and so the moral and ethical code for many in our society is summed up in the golden rule: “Don't be like Hitler!” And so Remembrance events are annual reminders of that secular basis for morality.

This, however, makes our sense of good and bad a matter of comparison: “I may not be perfect but I'm not as bad as Hitler”! As the old joke says, if you're in a place with bears you don't have to be able to run faster than the bear, you only have to be able to run faster than your companions! As long as you're not the slowest, you'll survive. And that's the way morality is seen too: as long as I'm not the worst I'm OK. We compare ourselves with others, even those around us, and as long as we are better than they are, we satisfy ourselves that we are good. And even if we've got no-one around us who is worse than us, we are still good because we're not Hitler.

In our second Bible reading (Mark 10:17-27), a man comes up to Jesus to ask a question and calls him “Good Teacher.” “Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except God alone.” In doing so, Jesus was making a point about himself – in calling him 'good' the man recognises that Jesus is divine; but Jesus is also making a point about us – we are not good. Even if we obey a lot of the Ten Commandments like the man had, we are still not good. The man was relying on his good deeds for his salvation, for his reputation of being good, but Jesus reminds him and us that it is impossible for us to be saved, to be good by our own actions.

The problem is our perspective. When we compare ourselves with others we will always find people worse than ourselves: even Hitler thought he was morally better than others – which is why he put so many into death camps. Unlike the Mitchell and Webb comedy sketch, the Nazis didn't look at themselves and ask “Are we the baddies?” - they thought they were the goodies. We may think that morally we are as far away from the Nazis as we are in distance from Australia, but we are looking at it from ground level. Jesus reminds us that the moral standard is God himself – only he is good. And when we compare ourselves with him, we are as far away from him morally as we are in distance from the edge of the universe. And from the edge of the universe, the distance between us and Australia is ultra-microscopically small. Compared with God we are as bad as Hitler.

A film came out last year called “The Zone of Interest” about Auschwitz commandant Rudolf Höss and his wife Hedwig who strive to build a dream life for their family in a house and garden beside the camp. But what makes this film different to other Holocaust movies is that instead of getting us to identify with the victims, it wants to show us our similarities with the perpetrators.

So while Remembrance events are good for reminding ourselves to not be like Hitler, it is Remembrance Sunday that teaches us the most important lesson: peace will never come through human effort. Because all of us share that inner sinfulness that is only a step away from committing the horrors we see in war. We need to be reminded not to be like Hitler because we are like Hitler. The Commandments Jesus doesn't mention in his list are Commandments about putting God first in our lives, and by failing to do that our inhumanity towards humanity will continue. But the good news that introduces the Ten Commandments (Exodus 20:2) is that that God saves us not on the basis of our good deeds but on his love for us – which is shown supremely in Jesus' death which takes the punishment for our sins and attributes to us a goodness that we could never achieve ourselves.

Our first reading (Isaiah 2:2-5) tells us that one day those who are willing will learn God's ways and walk in his paths, and that is a good thing to start doing now. But it is only through Jesus that peace will come because he is the good one who will judge between the nations and settle the disputes for many peoples. That is why he is called the Prince of Peace; that is why the peace doves we have here today come out from the cross.

Facing the empty chair

Here's my article for November:

The Prayer Spaces that we'll be running this month in the schools will be themed around 'Remembering' – not specifically on wars and conflicts, but more generally on remembering loved ones and others who have died. One of the activities will be around an empty chair representing the gap that is left in our lives after the death of someone close. The children will have the chance to express a bit of how they feel, and reflect on the good memories, but it also allows for, and affirms, the sad ones.

The grieving process is different for everyone, and there are many rituals and practices that are recommended by different people to aid the process. Some of these are more helpful than others, some are well-intentioned but actually hinder healing. It seems to me that the most unhelpful ones are those that encourage our natural desire to 'hold onto' our loved ones and in some way to deny the reality of death – a desire that Canon Scott-Holland parodies in what has now become the poem “Death is nothing at all.”

It is very common to 'talk to' loved ones who have died, and there is nothing necessarily wrong in doing that. However, if we expect a response from them we turn a cathartic action into one that keeps the wound open. I sometimes stand at the graves of my predecessors and 'ask' them about what's happening in the parishes, but I don't expect them to answer, and nor do I even think they can hear me. I talk to them in the same way I talk to objects – not to communicate with them but just as a sounding board to express my thoughts.

The recent popularity of letterboxes for “Letters to Heaven” is a practice that treads this distinction. Carrying on the habit of sending letters and cards, at least shortly following a death, can be cathartic, but it seems to me that if it is done so as not to let down or disappoint the one who has died, it becomes something that hinders the process of letting go. And for children it might be especially unhelpful if because of a lack of reciprocal cards they think their loved one does not love them any more.

I've written previously of the dangers of mediumship as it opens us up to malevolent spiritual forces beyond our control, but it is also unhelpful because it falsely claims that the dead can communicate with the living.

So what can we do when faced with the empty chair? Recalling memories, both happy and sad, is a very important part of the grieving process, but the aim of the process is to let go – to be grateful for life whilst acknowledging the reality of death. However, our deep desire that life continues after death should point us to the One who offers exactly that: Jesus promises: “Those who believe in me will live, even though they die; and those who live and believe in me will never die.” (John 11:25-26).

Humans, not other animals

Here's my sermon from the Broughton Civic Service 2024.  The readings were Psalm 8 and Luke 12:4-7.

At school, one of my favourite lessons was Latin, and so I'm really enjoying teaching it to my own children. I mention this because we are here at our Civic Service, and the word 'civic' is derived from the Latin word civis which means 'citizen.' And so this reminds us that whenever we talk about 'civic' things we are talking about people; we're not talking about positions or committees, except insofar as they are focused on people. Civic amenities, civic duty and civic authorities are all there to serve the common good; they're there to serve the people. And so at the heart of the Civic Service should be the celebration of the people, their achievements and their good works; as well as a dedication of ourselves to work for the benefit of all members of the community.

But the question this raises is why? Why should those in positions of power use that power for the common good? Why do we feel that with great power comes great responsibility? Indeed why should any of us spend our time and energy doing things for other people? If someone asks for our help, why don't we respond with the phrase that I'm told the young people like to use: “That sounds like a you problem!”?

The reason we do care for others is because we believe that they are worthy of our care because they are fellow human beings. As the Universal Declaration of Human Rights says: all members of the human family have an inherent dignity, and equal and inalienable rights. This dignity and these rights aren't given to us by the UN, or by governments; we don't get them on the basis of our achievements or what we contribute in economic terms; we don't get them only if we're healthy or wanted; from the moment of our conception this dignity and these rights are ours inherently and inalienably: they are ours simply because we are humans.

We believe this because this is what the Bible tells us. Right at the beginning of the Bible we are told that God has made us male and female in his image and likeness. Alone of all the animals and the rest of creation, he has made us in his image and put his breath within us. As our first reading, Psalm 8 says, he has made us a little lower than the angels and crowned us with glory and honour. We are both lesser than the angels and also greater. Not only that, he gives us dominion and responsibility for the rest of creation under his rule. But best of all he cares for us – for each one of us, for each of you; as Jesus says he knows how many hairs are on our heads and cares for us above all the rest of his creation!

And he continues to care for us even when we fail to treat each other as fellow image-bearers; even when we fail to live the way God wants us to; even when we don't believe in him at all. He still cares for us. And he cares for us so much that in Jesus, he became human to share our humanity and to die to take the punishment for all our failures, so that through repentance and faith in Jesus that image of God that we mar through our failures can be restored. So if you want to know how valuable you are, the answer is: you're worth as much as God's own blood!

This vision of humanity as having inherent dignity and inalienable rights only comes to us through the Bible. In no other religion is humanity made in God's image, and in no other religion does God become fully human, and in no other religion does God die to save us. And nor can our human rights be established through scientific investigation or reasoned thinking, because on any rational comparison every human being can be ranked according to size, strength, intellect, popularity, wealth, power etc. etc. therefore we can all be said to be better than others but there is no rational basis for saying that we all have an equal dignity and value. The scientific and rational evidence shows difference and hierarchy not equality and parity.

This is what made the fledgling Christian communities an object of derision to the surrounding Roman culture and society. To the Romans it was ridiculous to think that women were equal to men; that children were as important as adults; that slaves were as valuable as freemen; that barbarians had the same dignity as Roman citizens.

If you believe that all humans, whatever age or ability or status, have an equal dignity and equal rights, but you don't believe in the God of the Bible, you have made a massive leap of faith. Only Jesus can give firm ground for believing that you, me and our fellow human beings are worthy of care and respect.

We are always tempted to return to those pre-Christian beliefs that some people are better and more valuable than others; that some people have less dignity and fewer rights. But today we celebrate and honour all those who instead embrace the biblical values of caring for and working for the good of all people in the community. And we pray that you will come to know and believe in the God who makes sense of that civic duty.

Harvest Sacrifices

Here's my article for the October magazines:

Harvest time often brings back fond memories, including memories of the hymns and songs sung at this time, many of which are well-loved favourites. Although not strictly a harvest hymn, I have fond memories of being in the school choir singing John Rutter's setting of “For the beauty of the earth”, and it's always a sadness when it's sung to a different tune!

The words were written by Folliott S. Pierpoint (great name!) in the spring of 1863 as he sat on a hilltop outside his native city of Bath mesmerized by the beauty of the countryside that surrounded him. As we now sing Pierpoint's words, in response to the wonderful things around us; in nature, in human relationships, and other blessings from God, we raise a joyful or grateful hymn of praise, or in Pierpoint's original lyrics, a sacrifice of praise.

The idea of a sacrifice brings us around again to the harvest theme. Although the Harvest Festival as we know it only developed in the mid nineteenth century, many cultures have rituals around the agricultural year stretching back to the beginnings of human history. A lot of these rituals involved making sacrifices to the deities they thought responsible for the weather and the growth of crops. Sacrifices of food, drink, animals and even humans were made to curry favour with these deities or to appease them when their displeasure was shown through things like adverse weather or crop failure.

The harvest rituals in the Jewish tradition, however, were of a different kind. There was an acknowledgement that “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it” (Psalm 24:1) and therefore “Everything comes from you, and we have given you only what comes from your hand” (1 Chronicles 29:14). We cannot give sacrifices to God because he owns them all already! Instead, the harvest sacrifices were demonstrations of faith and trust in God – they were to give the firstfruits of the crops (Exodus 23:16) trusting God that he would provide the rest of the crop. They weren't to give the surplus or the left-overs but what, at the time it was given, was the only crops they had.

Our Harvest Festivals give us a chance to raise a sacrifice of praise to the God who continues to provide for us through the labours of others and the wonders of creation – not in order to appease or pacify God but in response to his generosity to us. This generosity is seen most of all in Jesus who on the cross offered for all time one sacrifice for sins (Hebrews 10:12) so our sins could be forgiven. The proper response to that generosity is praise, repentance and faith in Jesus.

Tents and eternity

Here my September article:

Many people will have spent time this summer under canvas: whether that's camping holidays, festivals, events with marquees or blanket dens. And for many being under canvas is a happy experience or evokes nostalgic memories of care-free childhoods – though for others it can evoke traumatic memories!! Last month my family and I spent time at a Christian festival, staying for the week in a tent and listening to teaching and worship also under canvas. And so it was rather appropriate that on one of the days we were there, the church recalls the Transfiguration of Jesus.

This episode in Jesus' life is recounted in the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke; and John also alludes to it (John 1:14). Jesus takes Peter, James and John up a mountain to pray and while he was praying he was transfigured: his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Then Moses and Elijah (who had both died hundreds of years previously) appeared and talked to him. Peter said “Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters – one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah” (Matthew 17:4). Then the voice of God the Father endorses Jesus and his ministry before everything returns to normal. The Transfiguration was a demonstration of Jesus' divine glory as well as the affirmation by God the Father and the Old Testament scriptures (symbolised by Moses and Elijah) of the mission he'd just revealed (his death and resurrection).

The reason this was appropriate is that the word Peter uses that's translated 'shelter' also means 'tent.' Peter recognised that to be in the presence of the glory of God was a good place and so wanted to stay there. But Jesus knew that the time was not right: they must go down the mountain and head towards Jerusalem where he would fulfil his death-and-resurrection mission.

Holidays can be great times of relaxation, and we often wish we could stay on holiday forever – but we have to come 'back to reality'; back to the responsibilities and demands of normal life. However, that glimpse of peace points us towards that eternal rest that Jesus won for us by his death and resurrection; that existence in the presence of God 'lost in wonder, love and praise.' Christian festivals often give us a foretaste of that 'good place' and so should worship in our local churches. But like the Transfiguration experience for the disciples, we sometimes treat those heavenly experiences in church as shelters to escape from the difficulties of daily life rather than oases to fuel us through the difficult times, whilst reminding us of what we're journeying towards.

So if you're finding life difficult and struggling to see the purpose of it, come to the oasis of church for a foretaste of the eternal life God is inviting you to – but let's also remember that until Jesus comes to take us into his eternal presence we have his work to do down the mountain.

Image by JTD444 from Pixabay