Crook Churches Together

Week of Prayer for Christian Unity 2012 -

Day 7: Changed by Feeding   - 

John 21:15-17 Feed my sheep

An address by Revd Ray Anglesea


This year in the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity we have been looking at some words of St Paul who proclaimed “We shall be changed,” (by the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ -1 Corinthians 15 v57). The victory envisaged is not the result of force but achieved by the Son of Man who came not to serve, but to serve, as St. Mark tells us, was prepared to suffer for those whom he served, as we read in the letter of Peter. Victory is not to be expectedly immediately. Those who seek must wait patiently as Revd Vince Fenton reminded us on Wednesday, it is to be a victory of good overcome by evil with good, as Capt Mark Adamson reminded us on Wednesday, it is brought about by the peace of the risen Lord and established by God’s steadfast love as Sister Lucy reminded us yesterday. And it bears fruit in care for those in need, feed my lambs, feed my sheep as I shall be reflecting today. This vision of Christ’s victory is not brutal and coercive. There is no need to fear it as arrogant or threatening. On the contrary it is rooted in service and the readiness to suffer, and in patience, peace and love.

To feed. We can read that verb on various levels. There is some truth in the English proverb that a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I married a beautiful wife who loves cooking, the kitchen is my wife’s province, now semi retired I tread carefully in her territory, her roast beef and Yorkshire puddings, trifles, Christmas puddings and chocolate cakes are beyond compare, her sea food pasta, profiteroles and sticky toffee pudding make my mouth water. With such a large and extended family, daily meals were prepared as for an army, friends, family and student neighbours would gather around the table for birthdays, celebrations and anniversaries, 19 I think we had in one famous sitting. 30 or so years of married bliss tired of sitting on an assortment of chairs and stools we have just acquired a new dining room table – it came with 10 matching chairs. My third son, Tom, has taken up cooking as a career, preparing fancy meals in a variety of restaurants around the world, London, New York, Toronto, Sydney, for such well known chefs, Heston Blumenthal, Gordon Ramsey, Thomas Kellar. Last year he worked in the restaurant voted the best restaurant in the world, Noma, Copenhagen. Pete my fourth son has too joined the catering world, opening a cafe Flat White in Durham. When the Lord prepares a table before me as we heard in that well loved psalm 23, I like to imagine that it will be groaning with luscious and extravagant food, the heavenly banquet, like the Harvest teas we had at St Andrew’s many years ago, but perhaps without a whiff of autumnal Chrysanthemums.

Jesus instructs his disciples to feed and care for the world’s poor and hungry, this we do in a variety of ways through many relief organisations. But we can read this passage at a more profound and deeper level.

Three times at the lakeside Jesus asks the question ‘Simon, son of John, do you love me?' There's a memory of the first time Peter set eyes on Jesus; how he looked at him and said: ‘you are Simon, son of John'. Three times Peter replies in the affirmative. Three times Jesus charges him to care for his flock. Three times, for each of the three times Peter had denied him on the night of the passion. Jesus in his gracious forgiveness gave Peter the chance to wipe out the memory of the threefold denial by a threefold declaration of love. Jesus reinstated Peter. If you love me, Jesus said, then give your life to shepherding the sheep and the lambs of my flock. We can only prove that we love Jesus by loving others. Love is the greatest privilege in the world, but love also brings the greatest responsibility in the world. Love brought Peter a cross – later Jesus goes on to predict that Peter too will lay down his life for the sake of the Good Shepherd whom he follows. For where Jesus has gone is precisely where Peter must also go for love of him. It will be the cost of discipleship for Peter, of saying yes to the summons of the risen Lord, ‘follow me'.

‘Simon, son of John, do you love me?' ‘Yes, Lord, you know that I am your friend'. To be a friend of Jesus means loving him personally, passionately, and publicly, because that is the way he loves us. It means embracing the price of friendship, not caring about my life so much that I wouldn't be prepared to give it up for him. It means imitating the Good Shepherd not only in caring for his people, feeding his flock, but in laying down his life for them.

In the power of the resurrection Peter can now put Maundy Thursday behind him, when he so dismally failed the test of friendship. Easter has transformed and changed the coward of the courtyard into the loving friend of the lakeside. And I dare say that of all the disciples, his journey is most like ours, for we too need constantly to be enticed from the twilight of half-commitment into the full day of loyal love, ‘out of darkness into his marvellous light' as a Letter of Peter says. We need to be able to say: ‘yes Lord, we are your friends'. We need conversion of life, we need to be transformed, turned round, not once but each day we live.

Jesus asks us to live and die for him, just as he died and lives for us, even if it takes us where we do not wish to go. Perhaps on good days we can begin to wish to go there for his sake, for where the Master is, there will his servant be. And whatever awaits us on that road, we know that we must embody and express our love of Jesus by feeding his sheep. For Peter and for us, that includes living within the circle of love we call the Christian community. But love always looks beyond itself. To be friends of Jesus means being friends to those he especially cherishes: the vulnerable and voiceless and poor, those whom he calls his brothers and sisters, those to whom we are instructed to feed.

Once Peter said, when Jesus asked if the disciples would abandon him: ‘Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life'. Perhaps the words came too easily. Sometimes they do in a fit of enthusiasm. ‘I will lay down my life for you' he'd exclaimed in that moment of heightened intensity in the upper room, hardly knowing what he was saying. But he knows now. At the lakeside Jesus puts the test once more, and this time he rises to the challenge. ‘Lord, you know that I am your friend. You know I could not love you more.' On the other side of the passion he understands what this means, what it will cost him. It is his greatest moment. I ask myself, and I ask you, whether ours is yet to come, and how passionate we shall be when it does.

Paul may have been the great orator who voyaged and adventured far in the mission of the gospel, John, theologian and writer it appears had great insight into the mind of God, but it was to Peter who was given the role of the Great Shepherd of Christ’s people. It was Peter who had the honour and the lovely task of being the shepherd of the sheep of Christ. And here is where we too can follow in the steps of Peter. We may not be able to think like John or go to the ends of the earth like Paul. But each of us can guard someone from going astray, and each one of us can feed the lambs of Christ with spiritual and physical food.

Amen

A Tyrant's Lair

A sermon preached by Revd Ray Anglesea at St Andrew's Dawson Street, Crook and at Trinity Methodist Church, Spennymoor, Sunday 8th January 2012


Accordingly to church historians the pro-Roman King, Herod the Great, was a nasty piece of work. King of a small Jewish state he was by all accounts an insecure tyrant; he employed mercenaries and secret police to enforce order; a madman he trusted no one, not even his wives (of which he had ten) or his many sons – he executed one spouse and three of his boys because he feared they were plotting against him. Encouraged by his Roman masters, Herod believed in singling out individuals for public execution as well as the mass slaughter of opponents; any threat of an uprising was put down with brutal and bloody ferocity, so much so that his excessive brutality was condemned by the rabbinical court of judges, the Sanhedrin. Herod's paranoia about keeping power and his ruthless suppression of dissent earned him a well deserved place alongside the great dictators of history. Not a name you would find in the Jerusalem New Year’s Honours List. But like Herod the world is not immune or unaffected by political tyrants.

The death of Kim Jon II of North Korea last month, self-styled superior and dearest leader, great man who descended from heaven, saviour, Highest Incarnation of the Revolutionary Comrades, Great Defender, Guiding Star of the 21st Century, just a few of his many titles, ended a dismal year for the world’s tyrants and dictators. His 17 years of grotesque tyrannical misrule ensured him the top place in most rankings of the word’s autocratic despots. Combining absolute rule Kin Jon II achieved even greater catastrophe for North Koreans than suppression and mass starvation; he has left a population of some 24 million people physically stunted owing to malnutrition, and emotionally and intellectually impoverished. Close behind came another tyrant and oppressor, Gaddafi of Libya, who was ousted in August and killed in October. Murbarak of Egypt was ousted in February after 30 years in power and is on trial with his son, Gamal. In January last year Tunisia’s President ben Ali fled to Saudi Arabia after a mere 24 years of plundering and repression. Syria’s revolution is expected to topple President Assad in the next 12 months ending four decades of tyranny since 1971. It is estimated that three dozen dictatorial regimes still ensure that nearly two billion people around the world are denied their basic human rights. While Putin, the prime minister in Moscow has yet to earn the title of dictator the phrase Russian democracy is in danger of becoming an oxymoron as he prepares to return to the presidency next year.

And just when Herod the Great felt his great building projects were under control, the temple in Jerusalem, his military fortifications at Herodias and the construction of the port at Caesarea Maritima news arrives of the coming of a rival king who heralds a different kind of political reality. Wise men with ostentatious and extravagant gifts led by a star come to his lavish fortress palace at Herodium, they are Gentile astrologists/astronomers from outside the Jewish tradition, clever, devious, complicated, nervous learned men, they are late arrivals at the scene. They do not bring this year’s apple merchandise, iPad 2, iphone 4S, iPad touch, but gold frankincense and myrrh. These wise ones come with their scientific enquiry and enquiring minds and announce to Herod that a new King is to be born; telling Herod about the Christ child they provoke the massacre of the children in Bethlehem.

What Matthew is at pains to tell us is in the opening chapters of his gospel is a story not written to satisfy astronomical curiosity or a kind of cosy picture-book story we have created for ourselves; what he is telling us is political dynamite. Jesus, Matthew is saying is the true King of the Jews. Herod is the false one, a usurper, an impostor. Matthew introduces us to something which Matthew wants us to be clear about from the start. If Jesus is in some sense King of the Jews that doesn’t mean that his rule is limited to the Jewish people. At the heart of many prophecies about the coming king, the Messiah, there were predictions that his rule would bring God’s justice and peace to the whole world.

But what is it about the resourceful and clever wise men with their supposed wisdom, that they arrive at the wrong door and in so doing create confusion and mayhem, havoc and destruction – the slaughter of the innocents. It’s as if the wise, the devious, the resourceful, the political strategists can’t help making the most immense mistakes of all. Here we are with our modern 21st century minds and with our technology, knowing more and more, yet stepping deeper and deeper into military, economic and political tragedy. Communications are more effective than ever in human history, analysis of national international situations become ever more subtle; intelligence and surveillance provides theoretical perspectives on human behaviour, individual and collective. And still the innocence are killed, in Iraq, in Afghanistan, in Egypt, Libya, Congo.

And yet – here is the miracle – Christ is born in a country occupied by a tyrant and a ruthless confused dictator, born in a humble feeding trough in some Jewish backwater of a village. And here is another miracle - the three wise men with their massive foolishness and thoughtlessness are welcomed at the manger door. They are not turned away. Here amongst the tyrannies of the world’s wise men, wise people are to be found, they do not turn away. They are, as Matthew tells us, part of God’s justice and peace plan for the world. In the suffering and political struggles, peaceful demonstrations one day and violent suppression the next, and the massacres that we see daily on our screens, there we find wise people who in their struggles against tyrannies search for the truth, for liberation and freedom; in Lybia, in Syria, America and London where our times are not quiet times of contentment and shared prosperity; there is a deep sense that something has gone tragically wrong as we ponder with the Occupy London protests the gross inequality and injustice throughout our world.

Last month two modern leaders died: Vaclav Havel, former president of the Czech republic and Kim Jong II, the leader of North Korea. Kim Jong ruled by fear, suppressed freedom, murdered dissidents and encouraged a cult of personality. Vaclav Havel on the other hand inspired his contemporaries to fight against totalitarian rule, against tyrants and though he too faced a seemingly impregnable enemy, soviet communism, he knew that freedom is not won by numbers but by courage, physical, intellectual and ultimately spiritual. He once said: “As soon as man began considering himself the source of the highest meaning in the world and the measure of everything, the world began to lose its human dimension, and man began to lose control of it.” In other words we have to live for something greater than ourselves if we are to win the freedom to be ourselves. Havel called his most famous essay “The Power of the Powerless,”......... freedom can defeat ruthless power. It needs a few dedicated people with the inextinguishable courage to light a candle of hope in other people’s lives and together we can change the world.

And it was Mohamed Bouazizi, the humble Tunisian fruit seller whose fight for justice created history and was named the 2011 Times Person of the Year. His courage inspired the oppressed masses of the Arab world the right to determine their own destiny. His self lit

oppressed masses of the Arab world the right to determine their own destiny. His self lit candle of hope, his own body, burning himself to death, triggered an Arab uprising. 2011 turned out to be a year of a million heroes of Arab men and women who took to the streets demanding their liberty, dignity, economic opportunity and the right to choose their own lives. Thousands paid for their temerity with their lives, but with enormous courage these nameless and faceless heroes have toppled some of the world’s dictators and autocrats, the Herod’s of the world. Does the nature of Bouzazi’s immolation remind you of another martyr?

As the wise men discovered on their long journey, coming to the Christ child isn’t always simple. I guess we might share the same experience. For some people, faith is difficult, hard, often God is remote, God appears on mute, most of the time we live in dry deserts, we run out of spiritual fuel. Many would admit they no longer have a vivid experience of God. What was bright and shiny is now tarnished and dull. What gave life and purpose has been reduced to disappointment and play acting. Christian people later in life quietly confide that they have lost the fire of their faith, and even sophisticated believers can lose their balance when faced with serious ill health. People journey late and arrive by roundabout routes to the stable door, with complex histories, sin and muddle, false expectations and perceptions and wrong starts. It’s no good saying to them, “You must become simple and wholehearted,” as this could be done just by wishing. The real question is “Can you take all your complicated history with you on your journey to the manger? Can you stop hanging on to the complex and the devious for their own sake, as a theatre for your own skills and recognise where the map of heavens points.

In a world in turmoil, the economic forecast for the New Year looks bleak, uncertain and frightening; particularly here in the North East which is probably back in recession where an embittering growing class of have-nots is beginning to emerge. Just look around the many private and public housing estates in Crook and Willington where there is now severe unemployment. One of my dreams this year is to set a soup kitchen here in church. On my daily walk to the cathedral I pass men sleeping rough in cold wet shop door fronts, graduates with 1st class honours degrees prepare sandwiches and serve at tables at my son’s cafe because there are no jobs for them, qualified planning students are returning to planning school because there has been no planning jobs advertised in the North East for the last two years; I too know the trauma and anger of being made redundant from a profession I loved. Journeying for me for such people as I have mentioned may be a tedious, dreary, dull and difficult journey to the truth. But on the way we must not deny the tangle and the talents, the varied web of what has made us, what has happened to us and who we are. Every step is part of the journey, even the false starts which move us on towards the truth. But we come as we are; room is made for us, healing is promised, even usefulness given to us if we are ready to make an offering of what W H Auden called “our crooked heart.”

In the straw of the stable, the humble and the complicated are able to kneel together, he is there in naked spirituality for the sophisticated and the troubled, those who had long and journeys, cold comings, to the stable. Let none think they are too tangled, too late and messy to be welcomed. Space has been made in this world for the Christ child, who comes amongst us in the real world of tyrants and dictators, politics and struggle, for God to make himself at home and to welcome all of us and use whatever we bring to him.


Ray Anglesea is a self supporting minister working in St Andrew’s Dawson Street LEP, Crook and in the wider West Durham Methodist Circuit

Sharing Salvation

A sermon preached by Revd Ray Anglesea at St Andrew's Dawson Street, Crook
Sunday December 18th 2011

A few years ago I had the privilege of conducting the funeral service of my wife’s midwife. Marie had attended my wife throughout her pregnancies; some of the children were born at home, some in the local hospital. Marie’s no- nonsense approach, her support and care, her professionalism was excellent in every respect. Having held my wife’s hand during the birth of our children I often wondered who whose hands Mary squeezed? Who helped Mary with her breathing exercises 2,000 years ago, who fetched the water, the towels and swaddling clothes? In an age when 1in 3 babies and 1in 4 mothers died in childbirth, giving birth must have been a frightening and dangerous procedure in 1st century Palestine (what a risk God must have taken!)

Early theologians of course were quick to defend the virgin birth - as well as conception – it was so easy. Alas for some conception is far from easy as Alex Smallbone, the longsuffering wife played brilliantly by Olivia Coleman from the BBC2 sitcom Rev is experiencing. Will St Saviour’s in the Marsh be blessed by a new baby this Christmas I wonder?

Early theologians, generally the fathers of the Church were less sure about whether Mary, or Jesus, really needed any help conceiving of giving birth. In classic Christian thinking, iconography and paintings, which we have looked at this morning, it is normal to see the infant Jesus as the saviour-in-waiting, with Mary as a worshipping witness rather than a woman who has just given birth. No one is there to really aid the mother and child. A midwife is not mentioned in the birth narratives, unlike the Hebrew midwifes at the time of the birth of Moses, who feared God and as a result “the people multiplied” says the bible and “became strong.” A Christmas card sent a couple of years ago from the synod moderator showing 1st century Palestinian midwifes attending the birth of Jesus created quite a discussion amongst synod ministers – it was a beautiful card from the collection of Barbara Marian’s Nativity Project - where in the birth narratives is a midwife mentioned? rather like the other presumed characters who appear at this time of the year......the innkeeper, soldiers, donkey, Little Drummer Boy, ox and ass, Cliff Richard, robins and Santa Claus. This year the synod moderator has sent to synod staff her Christmas card showing three wise women attending the birth of Jesus. I guess that will provoke comment too.

In the recently critically acclaimed exhibition at the National Gallery “Leonardo da Vinci: Painter at the Court of Milan,” the 15th century exquisite portraits of the Virgin, painted to convey a sense of awe-inspiring mystery gives no hint that Mary ever had a contraction, required gas and air......... the epidural must have been a knock out - literally! There she is in her classic blue gown, radiant with motherly bliss, baby Jesus sleeping peacefully, no crying he makes.

Well if childbirth as recorded in the gospel appeared a pretty easy and straightforward affair then at face value the complicated business of Jesus’ growing up appears equally uncomplicated. It must have appeared a doddle to the daily rollercoaster life of the Brockman family and their children Jake, Ben and Karen from the comedy sitcom Outrnumbered. The gospel stories inform us that Jesus' path and destiny from stable to cross is already marked out. The more spiritually alert folk - his mother, the wise men, Simeon and the shepherds - all seem to know what is happening. Salvation is coming through this one child sleeping tenderly in the manger: it will cost God everything, and you nothing. You cannot help God but he has come to help you.

But looking at the gospels closer they paint a more subtle picture. The bringing of salvation to the world, the title of another major exhibition some years ago at the National Gallery, London turns out to be a work in which the cost of salvation is shared amongst many. Other people are involved in the process. It’s not just all down to baby Jesus, sweetly sleep, do not stir. Mary the teenage mother must say "yes", the Annunciation is her sacrifice. Jesus escapes the wrath of Herod, but thousands of infants do not. Others, such as John the Baptist, lose their lives for Jesus before He can sacrifice his. God's salvation incurs sacrifice on behalf of other, it incurs cost.

And I say the cost deliberately. You may remember the Sunday School pneumonic – what does Grace mean – answer - God's Riches At Christ's Expense – well older and wiser now the pneumonic is not actually quite right. In bringing heaven to earth, light into the darkness, joy to the world – the Lord has come - Jesus' is not the only sacrifice. In short, God cannot do it alone; Mary's "yes" is of course needed, but help is needed too from the unknown helpers on the refugee trail to Egypt, the shepherd, the innkeeper, the wise men. God, in coming as a child, invites the many people who were around at the time, to help from the very first in the bringing of salvation.

And it is these people that the children so loving portray in their nativity plays every year, shepherds with tea towels, wise men in dressing gowns, Mary in her blue dress. The nativity players to be sure are characters and studies in Christian virtue, discipline and generosity which we may wish to look at during the Christmas season. (I always like Mary to have started her contractions on the 24th December before the church enjoys its nativity plays and the singing of Christmas carols). Some of the characters like the presumed innkeeper extends his boundaries to find one more room; very like the mansions of God, there is room. The wise men – or as the synod moderator would have it on her Christmas card – the Wise ones - bring extravagant gifts, speaking of the foolish generosity so rarely found in kingly power, but especially bestowed in God's kingdom now coming to birth.
People like the lowly shepherds, irregular temple worshippers who mirror the spontaneity and searching of Christ; you may find him, but he will come looking for you anyway. And the people of Egypt, this great ancient civilisation, too often unsung, are also part of the salvation adventure, they sustain the asylum seekers the holy family on their journey into their country. Small wonder that, as an adult, Christ preached on the importance of welcoming the stranger.

So, looking at this big complex word salvation in terms of God solely bearing the cost and not needing our help, is by no means simple and clear cut. The complicated Christmas salvation story is far richer in depth and meaning. Grace should really be seen as something that is expansive as it is expensive rather than costly. God involves many people in that work of "gathering up all things in Christ", as St Paul’s puts it, that great ambassador for the Gentiles, and allows all sorts of folk to participate in his saving work. Remember last year’s sermons from Matthew’s gospel. The birds of the air that make their nests in the mustard tree, the eagles, the wrens, the robins, people of all shapes and sizes, cultures, diverse backgrounds including the stranger - He invites his followers to share in the expenditure of salvation, and to distribute the rewards. We are partners in this extraordinary business, in which everyone can receive a full and equal share of God's riches. This is generosity defined.

The wonderful thing to remember on this the 4th Sunday of Advent, before Mary goes into labour and Joseph begins to panic is that in coming to save us, God reaches out to us, because God is partly dependent upon us to bring salvation to the world too, to bring his love for all humanity to share. In so doing we may not only receive the message but can begin to live it, even before we have understood it. This is God's true wisdom, coming to us as a helpless child who reaches out to us. The Christmas story is ultimately one of midwifery as it is the sharing of salvation.

Ray Anglesea

Advent: The coming of the Kingdom of God

An Advent Sunday illustrated sermon preached by Ray Anglesea at Sedgefield Methodist Church, Sedgefield, 27^th November 2011

For those who commute regularly on the East coast mainline to Kings Cross you will swiftly pass  some of England’s great churches. These spectacular historic buildings look like haunting and majestic apparitions as their towers and spires emerge out of the thick mist on dark November mornings. York Minster with its Saxon foundations and Benedictine community now a 15^th century architectural masterpiece;  St George’s, Doncaster rebuilt by George Gilbert Scott in the 19^th century; the parish church of St Mary Magdalene at Newark which has one of the tallest spires in England; the large medieval 13^th century parish church of St Wulfram, Grantham, built of Lincolnshire limestone and finally to Peterborough Cathedral, another Benedictine Abbey dedicated to St Peter, St Paul and St Andrew - the cathedral will shortly be celebrating its 900^th anniversary.   These historic and architectural significant buildings with vast spaces, filled with music reveal the human imagination at work on glass, stone, and other fabrics. The buildings are perfect stages for the contemplation of the ordered universe and the transcendent beauty of traditional holiness.

The best church I kept till last. Durham Cathedral, where I work and much admired by passengers – views from Durham railway viaduct reveal one of the photographic icons of north-east England. “Grey towers of Durham, how well I love thy mixed and massive piles, half church of God, half castle 'gainst the Scot, to quote Sir Walter Scott.” But of course, the view is not just admired by train passengers with Cannon cameras, it is well-liked by people across the world, many of whom see it as the greatest Romanesque building in Europe. The celebrated vista of Cathedral and Castle set on the acropolis of their wooded peninsular is unforgettable, as is the interior of this wonderful church. For this reason the UNESCO World Heritage Site, of which the cathedral and its environs are a major part, was one of the first to be inscribed. Epithets like “Britain’s best loved building” try to capture what it is that gives the Cathedral its unique place in the affections of so many. Its beautiful setting and its architectural purity, the spirituality imparted by the long history of prayer and worship certainly play a part.

These mainline churches were built as if to last for ever. They remind me of Ken Follett’s popular novel The Pillars of the Earth, set in the middle of the 12^th century. The novel traces the development of Gothic design out of the preceding Romanesque architecture and tells the fortunes of the Kingsbridge priory, Priory Philip and his master builder, Tom.  But do these buildings last forever? King Henry VIII set the administrative and legal processes in the sixteenth century by which he disbanded England’s monasteries, priories, convents and friaries – only the local ruins of Fountains Abbey, Finchale and Tynemouth Priories now remain. Many of our nonconformist chapels have been demolished or converted to furniture warehouse, carpet shops, antique sale rooms and restaurants. And if they haven’t been demolished or converted to other uses they may well have been robbed of their lead - payouts from metal theft from places of worship have increased by 70% nationally and are expected to reach £5.5 million by the end of the year. One of the Durham cathedral community members, the widow of the late Bishop of Peterborough, was in Christ Church Cathedral New Zealand in February this year when the earthquake destroyed the spire and part of the tower – and severely damaged the structure of the remaining building. She was shaken by the event but mercifully not hurt. The Cathedral in New Zealand was deconsecrated on Wednesday November 9th in an emotional ceremony as it was returned to secular use while long term options are considered.

 Listen again to the opening words of today’s Advent Sunday gospel from Mark. The disciples are admiring the splendour of Herod’s temple: ‘Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!’ And Jesus says to them: ‘Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another: all will be thrown down’.

It’s as a consequence of this alarming prediction that they question him further: ‘Lord, when will these things be, and what will be the signs of the end?’ The warning of this ‘little apocalypse’ is clear: be ready, for you do not know the day or the hour’. Taken at face value, these Scriptural images in this tense and edgy gospel with which we begin Advent - traditionally a time that reflects on the four last things: death, judgment, hell and heaven, make little sense to the 21st century mind. They are profoundly disturbing ones - signs in the sun and the moon; stars falling from the sky; the powers of heaven shaken and the Son of Man coming on clouds with power and glory. For most modern day Christians they bring us face to face with uncomfortable questions. How do we live with all this talk of judgement and the second coming? How can we relate to the call of the prophets that God might tear open the heavens and come down and cause the nations to tremble at God’s presence?

 It’s tempting to dismiss or ignore these images, or to moderate that language into something more palatable to modern thinking. But to do so is to lose sight of the difficult but vital truths those images convey. Paula Gooder, in the Advent book “The Meaning is in the Waiting” a line take from the Welsh poet R S Thomas poem “Kneeling,” which we read ealier in the service comments that only by engaging with what she calls the “end-time” theology of readings such as those we’ve just heard can we begin to understand the big Biblical themes of salvation, resurrection and the Kingdom of God. The big cosmic feel of Advent invites us into a world of unpredicted time and place which is unfamiliar and uncomfortable but which ultimately speaks across the centuries to those common human experiences of questioning and puzzlement in which faith is challenged and honed and brought to new realities and new understanding.

As we look back over the last Christian year no-one could accuse 2011 of being a slow news year. Some of a more radical disposition with end-time thoughts in mind might say it has been a year of disaster, catastrophe, a day of reckoning, judgement day. We have had protests and regime change in Tunisia, in Egypt, in Libya - not to mention political demonstrations in Jordan, Yemen, Morocco, and Palestine. We are beset with the on-going massive Eurozone debt crisis, with a bailout in Ireland, a bailout in Portugal - a second bailout in Greece, which appears to have been as inadequate as the first – and rumours of bailouts in Spain and Italy abound. 

Turning closer to home we have had - the slow and painful unfolding of a media phone-hacking scandal that not only beggars moral belief –but also has heralded the extraordinary spectacle of two of the most powerful media men in the world appearing before a Parliamentary Select Committee. There has been the explosion of rioting in numerous UK cities, motivated by little more than violence and greed. You might want to add to this potent mix - rape charges made and then dropped against the head of the IMF- a massive tsunami and fears of a nuclear meltdown in Japan - massive famine in the horn of Africa - a massacre in Norway- the killing of the world’s most wanted terrorist. And yes the church in the form of St Paul’s Cathedral has hit the headlines, built as it is on a deep theological fault line where the two powerful tectonic plates, God and mammon, meet right under Wren's magnificent baroque masterpiece." If cathedrals are seen as monuments to transcendent beauty and traditional holiness, then in the life of Jesus, holiness is redefined as justice. Rowan Williams in a speech to the Lord Mayors Banquet, London last week drew attention to the “alarming instability being played out in the cities across the world as the economic crises deepens and called for repentance as a way to restore trust or credibility.” 

But whatever we think of recent global events and the fear and uncertainty that they provide,  this dark and difficult passage is, let me remind you, about a building. Even the temple, says Jesus, will not last forever. When you visit Jerusalem, as I have done, and place your hands in the crevices of the western wall which is all that is left of Solomon’s magnificent and beautiful temple, and pray, you cannot help being reminded that man’s grandest designs are subject to the same law as everything else: earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Advent is the time in the Christian year when we come to terms with the facts of our human condition. Mortality is a fact not only of our personal social and economic lives but also of our institutions. And that includes church buildings. To take our Gospel reading literally this morning would imply that one day, inevitably, but hopefully not soon, not one stone of our great buildings will be left standing upon another? I think that the monks who put up Durham cathedral 900 years ago knew that while they built as if forever, it was not forever. They built for God and his kingdom; they knew from the rule they followed that his kingdom was not of this world. In this, it stood in sharp contrast to the earthly kingdom to whose ruthless power this cathedral was also a monument: the Norman conquerors. Like Herod’s temple, even the buildings that stand most powerfully for spiritual aspiration can also represent ambition, power and hubris.

I think this ambivalence is good for us. Listen to the voice of the New Testament. ‘The things that are seen are transient; the things that are unseen are eternal.’ ‘We have here no abiding city, but we seek that which is to come.’ In today’s passage from St Mark, we are faced with the stark realisation of how provisional everything is: our possessions, our relationships, our institutions, our achievements, our lives. All this, says the apocalyptic Jesus, will be swept away at the coming of God that will wind up history and bring in the reign of his kingdom. And even if we step back from the imagery and ascribe it, as we must, to the feverish, end-of-the-world milieu in which 1st century Christians believed they were living in, we can’t escape the vividness of Jesus’ teaching, its urgent summons to look afresh at things and consider what we rate as truly important in this life.

It is very good and sobering for people like me, a former URC synod Listed Buildings Advisory officer as well as Methodist property stewards and custodians of magnificent church buildings to be reminded every so often that there will come a time when not one stone will be left standing upon another. I pray that you and I never see it. And yet, doesn’t that prayer betray the possibility that I might love these stones too much, the symbol rather than what it points to, the creature rather than the creator?

The coming of God’s kingdom exposes to his just yet loving scrutiny all our fears and longings. Advent is our opportunity to cultivate what the gospel calls ‘purity of heart’. This means willing the one thing necessary for our happiness, for the salvation of our race, for the healing of our world. That one thing is God’s kingdom. It is the only hope we have. If we are true to the One who is not only in all things but above and beyond all things, then we shall have understood our great building aright, and shall cherish our stones all the more because of him for whose glory and kingdom they, and we, exist. And if one day tower and temple fall to dust, it is to make way for something greater, when death and hell have fled before the presence of Light and Love, and the holy city, the new Jerusalem has come, of which it is foretold: ‘I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the almighty and the Lamb. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God is its light.’

Isaiah 64: 1-9; Mark13: 1-8, 24-end

Ray Anglesea is a self supporting minister working in St Andrew’s Dawson Street LEP, Crook and in the wider West Durham Methodist Circuit

At the Cenotaph

A sermon preached by Ray Anglesea at a Civic Remembrance Day Service, St Catherine’s Parish Church, Crook.  Sunday 13th November 2011.

Remembrance Sunday is a symbolic day in the life of our nation. We remember and honour the lives of service man and women who, for our freedom, fell in the trenches and wastelands the length of the Western front; we remember and pay tribute to the memory of those who fell in the second global conflict that took such a terrible toll on humanity; we remember those who fought in more recent campaigns, Korea, the Falklands, Bosnia, Iraq and Afghanistan. And finally we remember those drawn into the maw of war from the Empire; we are proud to honour their citizen’s sacrifice for Britain. Today in this service and later, we honour and pay tribute to the memory of all the fallen and particularly those who fell in the line of duty from this town. The best tribute to those who died and are still dying for their country comes today around the town’s cenotaph. It will take the form of silent, reverential homage. In the words of Lawrence Binyon’s poem “For the fallen”.....we shall remember them.

But remembrance is not static – it’s a constantly growing and evolving action which gives us the opportunity to take hold of the past and transform it. As a result of military conflict and the horrors of war we humans have a choice, we can either generate destruction through the practice of hate or generate peace through the practice of love. Many of our fellow country men and women have chosen the latter way, to reach out with grace, understanding and healing, a way not of denial and revenge, but a way of love, of trying (and I like that humble little world) to love one’s neighbour. Such is the power of love that our fellow countrymen and women reach out with ever greater acts of love and compassion. And by their action life is regenerated and people miraculously thrive and are healed. So today, I with you, would wish to salute  and remember not only the fallen but to give thanks for the many individuals, groups and organisations who as a result of military conflict are making a positive difference to our world, our country and community, who are finding ways of providing healing, hope and peace.

 A way of love shown by the Royal British Legion which this year celebrates its 90th anniversary. To celebrate this milestone a new portrait of the Queen produced by Yorkshire artist Darren Baker has been unveiled. The painting shows the monarch seated in a blue dress – the Royal British Legion’s official colour, her watch set at 11am, she wears a spray of five poppies. The Royal British Legion is committed to the welfare, interests and memory of Service families. The current number of potential beneficiaries for the Legion’s welfare services is estimated at £9.5 million, reaching out to the 500,000 service personal that are in the greatest need. Over this year, the Legion aim’s to raise £90 million, £1 million for every year of its existence.

 A way of love shown by the organisation Help for Heroes, a British Charity launched in October 2007 to help British servicemen and women and founded by Bryn and Emma Parry. To date the charity has raised over £40 million pounds, £47,000 per day since it was launched. Prince William at the opening of the Hedley Court Rehabilitation Centre last year stated “very occasionally – perhaps once or twice in a generation – something or someone pops up to change the entire landscape. What has been achieved at Hedley Court, the defence medical rehabilitation centre is in truth the tip of the iceberg.”

A way of love shown by the inhabitants of Wooten Bassett; a royal title has been bestowed of the small Wiltshire market town. The honour came in recognition of the years when the bustle of everyday life stopped on 167 occasions to honour the repatriated bodies driven through its streets.

A way of love shown by the England football team’s personal response to wear poppies on their black armbands at yesterdays match against Spain.

Alas our country is still at war. Our nation is beset with deep uncertainties. Security pervades our daily lives on an unheard-of scale making us feel even more insecure; and if that were not enough, a global economic crisis that is probably the worst for more than a century and which will take years, maybe decades, to recover from. The world is not the same as it was. We live in precarious times which make us very afraid for the safety of our world and the future of our children.

 

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, a 20th Century Roman Catholic theologian, shifts our focus from why things happen to asking “how will we respond” to the sadness and destruction of war and to an uncertain and insecure world.  As we all know, enmity, hatred, revenge and bitterness are almost inevitable consequences of violence and war. Jesus Christ was the first human being in history to make the divine revelation: ‘Love your enemy, pray for those who persecute you.’ This might sound unrealistic, almost ridiculous and certainly extremely difficult to follow.  Every one of us has the choice: to surrender our hearts to anger and revenge, or to allow the risen Lord to help us fulfil His commandment to love our enemy and to remember always that love never falls. That is our choice: to repay evil with evil or to show the humility to repay evil with an act of love. The Royal British Legion, Help for Heroes, the inhabitants of Royal Wooten Bassett and countless thousands of individual members of the British public in their dedication and fund raising efforts have found another way, a way of love that leads to peace. Beloved Archbishop Desmond Tutu said, “Goodness is stronger than evil, love is stronger that death; victory is ours, through Him who loves us.”

To remember, then, is to engage in an activity that reconstitutes us. By recollecting and recalling, we make and pledge ourselves anew to each other, and to God. So remembering is not a dry duty. It is a vital and hopeful form of recall that reshapes us for the better. Remembering the dead is really all about facing the task of living anew. It is about hope, and about recommitment. However, there is a world of difference between reminding people of the past and remembering it. Reminders simply recall, and can all too easily lead, if one is not careful, to the perpetual contemplation of pain (and the anger that evokes). The wounds never heal; they are left open, and are prodded and poked on a regular basis, so that others may participate in the pain afresh.

But remembrance is different. It is a faithful and engaged act of recollection, which is both constructive for the present and hopeful for the future.

God is love and when we translate this love into action, we become rooted in God and God becomes rooted in us. We imitate the one whose words and works were life-changing for those on whom he turned the light of truth and looked with the gaze of love. For then we find that as his heart speaks to our hearts we begin to face the future with equanimity, and even with hope. In bewildering times, we are right to be suspicious of easy speeches, grand designs, quick fixes. If we think this is Christianity, we have not been paying attention. Yet we can be sure of Love’s great ways. We are more than conquerors through him who loved us. We remember. We do not loose heart.

As one Jewish sage put it, while dining with his friends and with his betrayer at hand: "Do this in remembrance of me."

Amen

Ray Anglesea is a self supporting minister working in St Andrew’s Dawson Street LEP, Crook and in the wider West Durham Methodist Circuit

Signs of love

A Baptismal sermon preached by Ray Anglesea at St Andrew’s Dawson Street, Crook, Sunday 16th October 2011.

Paul and Frances, your family and friends, welcome to church today for your darling infant’s son’s baptism. It is lovely to have you with us: I and the church here at Crook hope you have a happy and memorable day. Baptism can be a nerve racking experience for the family as well as at times for the minister – well at least the organist did not play the theme music from Jaws, I did not have to wear scuba divers outfit and the coast guard was not involved.

I wonder if you put your Sat Nav on to find the church this morning or followed directional signs? At my son’s recent wedding the vicar gave the happy couple the wrong post code for the church so that many guests arrived in somebody’s private drive. Signs are very much part of our lives - shop signs, lighted signs, advertising signs, neon signs, school signs, restaurant signs, toilet sign, speed limit signs, disabled parking signs, no parking signs as the parking attendant slaps a £30 parking fine on you windscreen. “What do you mean, sir, you didn’t see the double yellow lines?”

We too have our signs; we wear signs all the time. Perhaps the gentlemen in either their red and white, black and white football shirts might prefer some David Beckham lookalike tattoos, a crucifix on the back of the neck perhaps, a guardian angel between the shoulder blades and an angel on the right shoulder. The guardian angel is there to overlook the names of his three children, Brooklyn, Romeo and Cruz. Not quite sure what David will do for Seven his newborn daughter – will Prince William be a godfather we wonder. No David the minister will not use a flame thrower – it is not a baptism of fire! Perhaps the women would prefer signs of Gucci sunglasses, Vivienne Westwood jewellery, a naughty off the shoulder Armani something or other, Jimmy Choos nude shoes, a Mulberry designer handbag, why not go for something from the Sarah Burton Alexander McQueen wedding dress collection. Sorry.... that one is a one off.......... already worn!

As we look around us the church too is full of signs, a wooden cross on which Jesus died, a sign we say in church speak - a sign of our salvation, a rainbow arch around the organ, symbol of the church’s openness to diversity and inclusion, as well as a sign from a Genesis story, Judy Garland’s theme song, And of course a font where Jacob was baptised a few moments ago. Baptism is a sign too, it is also one of the sacraments of the Church; a sacrament is a sign also ‘an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace,’ as the old prayer book stated. In a nutshell, through baptism we’re made children of God’s grace, we become members of the Church. Jacob has been baptised as a Christian. This ceremony has obligations foremost of which is to live the Christian life. The sign at Jesus baptism in the River Jordan was a dove descending out of the sky and a voice from heaven which said: “This is my beloved son in whom I am well pleased, listen to him.”

Paul and Frances just as your wedding rings given in Cyprus on your wedding day is a sign of your enduring love for one another, so Jacob’s baptism this morning is a sign of God’s promise to Jacob. God will be with Jacob and his family forever. But more than that. God will love Jacob forever.

Paul and Frances – God is committed to the flourishing, well being and happiness of your family, you have embarked on this great journey of love, not only of loving each other but of loving Jacob. As parents you are going to be a sign, an electric spark to Jacob of what human love is like, you are going to be the role models of what God’s love is like. Having five children on my own you I can assure you will be in for some challenging times and experiences. Jacob may not need a media bedsit where he will have his own TV, internet, game consoles and a new apple iphone. But he will need you to be there for him, to support him, to run the line at the football match, to sit at the poolside during swimming lessons, to listen to him experiment with a drum set, to help with the maths homework, to let him borrow your car for the first time. You are going to be signs of love for Jacob. But like the BBC 1’s roller coaster life of Sue and Pete Brockman’s family from South London, you may be outnumbered! The Jake, Ben and Karen’s of this world will see to that.

Paul and Frances. You are surrounded by loving families with offers of help and support, sleep-over, shopping, and grandparents. Use them. We as a church are here to help you too, our doors are open, you have our telephone numbers, we too can provide help and support, education and teenage training. Alas human beings live in a world of good and bad and that makes our lives and relationships painful and complicated but not so with God. God will never give up on you, even if you run away from him. Paul and Frances never stop loving each other - you are for Jacob a sign of what human love and family life is like and can be for the rest of his life – he will learn from you, you will be his example. As the late Steve Jobs co-founder, chairman, and chief executive officer of Apple Inc said, “Have the courage to follow your heart and intuition, and as with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on.”  And so it is with our relationship with God.

And in all this we, as we are able, together, will do everything possible to keep our promises to love, help and support you.

So before we complain too loudly about David Cameron’s Downturn Abbey Britain, a world of Kelly Rowland’s x factor wannabees, (I wish she could pick me! ), the future of Arsene Wenger, the slow goodbye of Coronation Street’s Becky McDonald, the price of Apples’ new iPhones,  and Sienna Miller’s phone hacking payoff, we should remember today that we have cause for thanksgiving – God has committed himself yet again to one more human family, the Moore family here from Douglas Terrace, Crook, and in the lives of this lovely family with whom today we join in celebration, we see the sign of God’s embracing, renewing vision of God’s faithful love.   

Paul and Frances may God bless you on your journey, and may Jacob’s baptism be a sign to live the faith more fully.

Amen

Ray Anglesea is a self supporting minister working in St Andrew’s Dawson Street LEP, Crook and in the wider West Durham Methodist Circuit

Suffer Little Children

A Baptismal sermon preached by Ray Anglesea at St Andrew’s Dawson Street, Crook, Sunday 2^nd October 2011

Congratulations to Barrie and Joanne on Emileigh’s baptism. May the welcome your child has experienced today here in church infuse your family’s faith life for all time! 

Here’s a delightful story. At the recent wedding of Zara Phillips and Mike Tindall, the bride’s cousins, Princes William and Harry, read an extract from Margery Williams’ classic children’s story, The Velveteen Rabbit.        The story is about a boy who receives a Velveteen rabbit for Christmas.  The Velveteen Rabbit is snubbed by other more expensive or mechanical toys; they fancy themselves as real. One day while talking with the Skin Horse, the rabbit asks the horse what it means to be “a real person”. The horse replies that it means being loved. “It doesn't happen all at once. You become real. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.” “Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are real, you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand – once you are real, you can’t become unreal again. It lasts for always.”

Well it is a long time since I read that story to my children. Years later Hollywood still tells the same tale in children’s movies like Toy Story and Shrek, which is why they speak to parents as well as children. Love transforms. It makes us beautiful in the eyes of those who love us. It makes us real.

That is the great truth at the heart of the Christian faith. God’s love makes us beautiful in His eyes – and in ours when we see ourselves reflected in His. That is what makes us real: not physical beauty which fades over time, but spiritual beauty which can grow over time. We allow ourselves to be made real by God’s love, with all our imperfections, pain and limitations. It was the poet W.H. Auden who said:-

Beloved, we are always in the wrong, handling so clumsily our stupid lives................

One thing that always strikes me is how little Jesus himself has to say about sin. He seems much more concerned with lack of love. Perhaps that is really what sin is ultimately, the failure of love. It was at Jesus’ baptism in the River Jordan that God’s said “This is my son whom I love, listen to him.” Here was a moment of sheer intense intimacy, a moment in time when God’s heart was revealed to his son. God’s greatest command is that we should love one another. Where do we find love? In the tiniest hazelnut, says Mother Julian: it exists because God loves it. In the entire sweep of the universe, says Dante, because it is ‘love that moves the sun and the other stars’. But today love has a human face in Emiligh. And to her very young life we bring our own memories of those who have loved us into life, whose lives are interwoven with ours and made us what we are.

Barrie and Joanne – God is committed to the flourishing, well being and happiness of your family, you have embarked on this great journey of love, not only of loving each other but on loving Emiligh and Jordan. As parents you are going to be their role models of what human love is like, you are going to be the role models of what God’s love is like. Having five children on my own you I can assure you will be in for some challenging times and experiences. Let’s face it - recent UNICEF reports on the upbringing of British children are not very encouraging; Britain according to this international agency is the worst place in the developed world to be a child; parents and their children are locked into a consumption cycle where mothers and fathers rarely say no to their children’s’ demands; children sit in media bedsits where they have their own TV, internet, game consoles and phones. Oh really – is our popular modern British culture as bad as all that? As couples say in rocky relationships in popular B movies – it’s not us UNICEF; it’s you.

Well who said bringing up children would be easy? In every serious relationship there will be ups and downs, moments of tension, discord, in human terms there will be nights with a crying child, falling out, tears, naughty children may have to be disciplined, there will be  frustration about the lack of employment opportunities, insufficient funds and days when we just feel down, tired and bored. And with all the pressures of family life it is often difficult to make headway. But Joanne and Barrie you are surrounded by loving families with offers of help and support, sleep-overs, shopping, grandparents love giving their grandchildren back to parents. Use them. We as a church are here to help you too, our doors are open, you have our telephone numbers, we too can provide help and support, education and teenage training. Alas human beings live in a world of good and bad and that makes our lives and relationships painful and complicated but not so with God. God will never give up on you, even if you run away from him. Joanne and Barrie never stop loving each other  - you are for Emileigh and Jorja what human love and family life is like and can be for the rest of their lives – they will learn from you, you will be there examples. And in all this we, as we are able, together, will do everything possible to keep our promises to love, help and support you.

So today I want to give thanks for our popular modern culture, children no longer go to work up chimneys or go down mines when they are out of trousers, we do not require children to enlist as soldiers in military campaigns, work in sweat shops making trainers and clothes. I want to say a great yes for children growing up in a free Britain, in our welfare state, the greatest act of communal generosity in history. Here in Crook magnificent Sure Start Children's Centres provide a variety of advice and support for parents and carers from pregnancy right through to when children go into reception class.  Four/fifths of children are literate, 40% will go to university and many in Emileigh’s life time will live to be a hundred. We are a nation that gives ever more to charities, we are increasingly tolerant of class, colour, gender, race, religion and sexual preference, advances in medicine and scientific discoveries take our breath away, just think in Emileigh’s life time men and women may have reached and have set foot on Mars. But our greatest cause of thanksgiving this morning is that God has committed himself yet again to one more human family, the Rayner’s here in Crook, and in the lives of this lovely family with whom today we join in celebration, we see that embracing, renewing and hopeful vision of God’s faithful love, a love that like the Velveteen rabbit discovered makes us real.

One reason we find such children’s stories childish is that, in them, things work out the way we hope they will. The good win, the wicked are vanquished and the heroes live happily ever after. Life isn’t like that, we tell ourselves. But it could be less unlike it than it is. Which is why it is not naive to see the world through the eyes of love, for that is how God sees us.

May God bless you on your journey, and may your child’s baptism open your eyes to live the faith more fully.

Amen


Ray Anglesea is a self supporting minister working in St Andrew’s Dawson Street LEP, Crook and in the wider West Durham Methodist Circuit