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.

What the gladsome tidings be: Angels as messengers

Here's my magazine article for December, which is also the first of my Advent reflections:

Our Advent Evening Prayers will be looking at different features in the Christmas story, and our news sheets will have a more in-depth look at another feature: angels. This week we're looking at angels as messengers.

It wouldn't be Christmas without angels. Whether they're sung about in carols, depicted on Christmas cards, or played enthusiastically by children in Nativity plays, they seem to be everywhere. And that's quite appropriate because angels are all around us, and not just at Christmas!

Angels have become increasingly popular with New-Age spirituality as being a bit like fairy-godmothers – quasi-divine spirits that can grant wishes, or as guardian angels, which act a bit like your own personal deity. These beliefs have grown out of the biblical record about angels, but have been severed from the biblical worldview so they can be made to fit into any and all spiritualities and faiths. So what does the Bible tell us about angels?

Firstly, we do not become angels after death. The Bible tells us that we were made a little lower in status than the angels (Psalm 8:5) , but unlike angels we can be saved and we will ultimately rule over the angels (Hebrews 1:14 and 1 Corinthians 6:3). Angels are one of a number of spiritual beings mentioned in the Bible (including cherubim and seraphim), and although we tend to class them all as angels, it is probably more correct to see these names as being different job titles for these spiritual beings. For example seraphim have a particular rôle in the worship in heaven (Isaiah 6).

This leads us on to what angels look like. Our image of angels probably owes more to pagan gods or fairy folklore than the Bible. Cherubim are often shown, e.g. in the Renaissance, as chubby little children with wings, but this is more like the Roman god Cupid than the biblical description in Ezekiel 1. Indeed nowhere in the Bible are angels, unlike cherubim and seraphim, described as having wings – there appearance is more like humans which is why they often get mistaken for humans, which would be unlikely if they had wings!!

However, more important than what the look like is what they do. The word 'angel' means 'messenger' and in the Christmas story this is their important task. Gabriel (one of only two named angels in the Bible) brought the message of the coming birth of Jesus to Mary (Luke1:26-38) and, we assume, to Joseph (Matthew 1:20-21) and the shepherds (Luke 2:8-12). Then after the single angel had announced the Saviour's birth to the shepherds, a great company (or army) of angels appeared praising God and saying ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favour rests’ (Luke 2:13-14).

This is the great message that the angels bring, that God should be praised because there is now the possibility of peace 'to those on whom his favour rests'. We often see on Christmas cards the words 'Peace on Earth' taken from the angels' words, but the angels were not expressing a vague wish that things would get better on earth, but announcing that peace had already come because of the birth of Jesus. And this peace is not the absence of war but a peace, a reconciliation, with God. We are separated from God because we have rebelled against his rule in our lives, but the good news of Christmas is that God himself came to earth in Jesus, so that through his death the punishment for our rebellion would be taken, and therefore we can be reconciled to God. Will you hear the angels' message this year?

Advent Reflections: Peace

A couple of years ago we looked at the four traditional themes of Advent: Death, Judgement, Heaven and Hell ('The Four Last Things'). This year we're going to look at another set of Advent themes: Hope, Peace, Joy and Love. As the theme of this year's Advent course is Hope (and it was the theme of my November magazine article!), we'll look at the other three. This week it's Peace.

The song that the host of angels sang in the presence of the shepherds is almost inseparable from Christmas. Even in the secular celebrations “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favour rests” (Luke 2:14) rings out, often shortened to “Peace on Earth” on Christmas cards and decorations. The coming of Jesus is the coming of the Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6).

We often think about 'peace' as being the absence of war and conflict, but the Hebrew word 'shalom', which we translate as peace has a much deeper meaning than that. In Jesus' day, and still today in Middle Eastern cultures, 'Peace be with you' is a greeting and a blessing. It expresses not just a desire for the absence of strife but a positive desire for the wholeness and well-being of the person you greet. In this sense an engine 'at peace' is not one that is not going but one that is working properly. So 'peace' describes having contentment, completeness, wholeness, well-being and harmony. To say that Jesus is the Prince of Peace is to say that Jesus is the ultimate, and ultimately the only source of contentment and wholeness.

This is a very controversial thing to say. It might possibly be acceptable to say that Jesus is the 'Prince of Peace' because he was a wise teacher who taught people to love each other, but even that might be too exclusive for the non-believing world. However, we only have to look at Jesus' life to see that Jesus didn't necessarily bring peace through his life. He himself said “I did not come to bring peace, but a sword” (Matthew 10:34). Jesus was always a divisive figure: for a while he was popular but in the end he was hated and was so threatening that the only way to deal with him was to kill him.

The message of the angels tells us how peace can be gained: peace will come to those on whom God's favour rests, or as the King James version of the Bible puts it “on earth peace, good will toward men.” It is not, as commonly said, 'peace to people of good will', i.e. if we all get along there will be peace, instead peace has something to do with how God relates to us. St Paul wrote “we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 5:1), echoing Isaiah's prophecy “he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). The peace we really need is the restoration of our relationship with God that has been broken through our sin. Jesus' death was the punishment we deserved so that by faith in him we can be forgiven; God's favour will rest on us; God shows good will towards us. It was not through his life and teaching that Jesus brought peace but through his death.

Advent provides a time for us to think about our sins that separate us from God and to repent of them, so that we too can have that peace which Jesus came into the world to bring us.

Christmas Playlist. 3: The angels' song – How did God come?

Four songs that bring you to the heart of Christmas

3: The angels' song – How did God come?

This Advent in our weekly sheets we're going to be looking at the four songs of the first Christmas, which were heard before, during and after the birth of the baby who lies at the heart of the real Christmas. The reflection will be adapted from Alistair Begg's book, 'Christmas Playlist' (buy it here). This week we're looking at the angels' song – How did God come?

There are many ways to announce the birth of a child and these days social media seems to be the most popular. The birth of Mary's baby, however, was announced by an angel to shepherds (Luke 2:8-14)! The angel described the baby's job - “Saviour”: Redeemer. He announced the baby's title - “Messiah”: God's King promised for centuries to his people, promises recorded for us in the Old Testament. And he revealed the baby's identity - “the Lord”.

And that word, “Lord,” is making a staggering claim, because it is the word that was used by Greek-speaking Jews to translate the Hebrew word “Yahweh” - the personal name of God. God's name is Yahweh, and it's what he told his friends, his people, to call him. In other words, here's the deal: good news, great joy for all the people, has come because a Redeemer, the Ultimate Ruler, has been born. And he is God Almighty.

On the first Christmas night – and this is the heart of the Christmas story, and the heart of the Christian faith – God took on flesh. The voice that made the cosmos could be heard crying in the cradle. The hands that placed each star in its place grabbed hold of Mary's fingers. Her son was fully human, and fully God. In this man, divinity met humanity.

Perhaps this is where you struggle with the Christian faith. You are prepared to accept Jesus as a great teacher, a religious leader, or a brilliant philosopher. You are prepared to accept that he spoke for God, perhaps. But you struggle to accept that he is God – that as Mary and Joseph peered into the manger, they were looking at the eternal Son of God. You struggle with the idea of a virgin birth and a miraculous incarnation.

God the Son taking flesh is a mystery we will never understand. But not being able to understand how God became one of us is not proof that he did not become one of us. Here is the answer to the human predicament, the solution to our slavery to sin and our separation from God. God bridged the gap by coming from heaven to earth. This is how much the mighty God cares about us.

Then a choir of angels declares what this baby will achieve: “on earth peace”. The peace of God that invades a life is based on the discovery of peace with God. No matter how well we do at trying to establish peace with each other, until we discover what it is to have peace with God, we're not going to discover the peace of God. And since we are separated from God – since we have declared our independence and rebelled against our rightful Ruler – this is a peace that can only be brought about by the intervention of God himself. We may try to find peace without God in our own way – peace through power, possessions or popularity. We may try to find peace with God through our own strength – peace through obeying religious rules or through being “good people”. But the truth is that only God can give us peace with himself.

But it's a peace that so many miss out on because they fail to make room for the one who brings it. Remember why the God of heaven was in a feeding trough? Because there was no room for him anywhere else. He made the entire universe. He came into his universe. And there wasn't a place for him.

Let's be honest; in the lives of many of us, it's no different. We have no room for him either – not if it makes life uncomfortable for us, not if his presence brings any inconvenience to us, not when his actions and words surprise us. But our response does not change the truth. God has visited this world. He has come as one of us, to bring peace to us by redeeming us from our sins. Will you say to him, “No room”?

I'm dreaming of a hygge Christmas

Here's my article for the December magazine:

Each year the Collins dictionary announces its top ten 'words of the year'. Unsurprisingly this year's Word of the Year is 'Brexit' but also in the top ten was the Scandinavian word 'hygge' (pronounced hue-gah), which they define as “a concept, originating in Denmark, of creating cosy and convivial atmospheres that promote well-being.” Hygge is particularly felt around Christmas when we have images of candles, roaring fires, meals shared with loved ones. Christmas music also, perhaps unconsciously, taps into this concept of hygge: think about chestnuts roasting on an open fire; corn for popping and lights turned way down low; faithful friends who are dear to us gathering near to us once more.

Other cultures have similar concepts to hygge and in Hebrew the word 'shalom' captures some of the essence of hygge. Shalom is usually translated as 'peace' and is commonly used when greeting or saying goodbye to someone, however it also describes a feeling of contentment, completeness, wholeness, well being and harmony. It is this word, shalom, that is meant when Jesus is described as the Prince of Peace and when the angels sang ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favour rests’ (Luke 2:14).

To say that Jesus is the Prince of Peace is to say that Jesus is the ultimate, and ultimately the only source of contentment and wholeness. We get a glimpse of this through a concept like hygge – well-being is found not through power, status, money, beauty, productivity or other things we often spend our life trying to achieve, but through relationship. Ultimate well-being is found in a relationship with the Ultimate Being, God himself. As St Augustine famously said, our hearts are restless until the find their rest in God.

However, this relationship with God has been broken by our sin, by our turning away from God to follow our own desires. That's why the birth of Jesus is truly worth celebrating because he came to die to take the punishment for our sins, so now we can repent and turn away from our sins and have peace with God. We can be reconciled to him and our relationship with him is restored. To be reconciled with God is to know deep in our hearts his boundless love for us, to feel his favour resting on us, so we don't need to strive for acceptance through material possessions and status, in short we are content and made whole.

“Love and laughter and joy ever after, ours for the taking, just follow the master”

So this Christmas whether you're having a hygge Christmas or not, in the name of Jesus the Prince of Peace, “The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face towards you and give you peace.”

What we still need to learn from the Battle of the Somme

Here's my sermon from this year's Remembrance Service at Hibaldstow (the reading was Luke 21:5-19):

Jesus said “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom” words that are as true now as when he first spoke them, indeed they seem to have been true for the whole of human history. But out of all the many wars that this world has seen, what was it about the First World War that has left such a permanent mark on our psyche and collective memory? Why is it that it is this war that spawned and indeed is still the focus of Remembrance Sunday?

It seems to me that the answer may have something to do with the Battle of the Somme, the centenary of which has been commemorated this year. The Somme features many of the common images of the First World War: trenches, mud, barbed wire, machine guns and so on. But it also highlights some of the themes of the war: industrialised mass slaughter; tiny gains at a massive cost; conscripted young men, promised glory but sent to their deaths by old commanding officers. By the end of the four and a half months of the offensive, the Allies gained 12km of ground at an estimated cost of 620,000 casualties (420,000 British, 200,000 French). The Germans lost around 500,000 men.

The Battle of the Somme also seems to represent another feature of the First World War that has made it so outstanding, and that is that it was the end of the idea of human progress, that humanity is getting better and better, that the world is improving. What the First World War demonstrated was that history wasn't inevitably improving, because so many civilised nations ended up fighting each other - the only progress that was made was our ability to kill more people, more efficiently.

The destruction of the view of the inevitable progress of humanity has had bad consequences for us all. Since then, without the feeling that we're working for a better world, we've become self-centred, out to get the best for ourselves no matter what it takes and no matter who suffers as a consequence. With no hope for the future we become people who live only for the present.

Remembrance Sunday is a day to recall the consequences of war, not just in terms of the people who died, who were injured or who lost loved ones, but also in terms of its effect on us as a society. More importantly, remembering the past must lead to learning from it, otherwise our remembrance is pointless.

We no longer share the naïve optimism of the Victorians and Edwardians that humanity is marching to a glorious future by its own efforts. But that shouldn't mean we should only think about the present and what we can get out of it for ourselves. The First World War reminds us that we have an almost limitless ability to be cruel to each other especially when we believe we are in the right. Our present time reminds us that we will do almost anything if it makes us happy, regardless of its effect on others.

There is a hope for the future but it lies outside of humanity. Yes we should do all we can to make this world a better, more peaceful place, but ultimately only God will bring a lasting kingdom of true justice and peace. Jesus came to announce the coming of that kingdom, but he also came to die so that those self-important and self-centred desires can be forgiven and changed. And he promised that one day he will return to make all things new and those who believe in him will share in that glorious future.