Many people, maybe most people, spend their lives training, getting ready for a thing that may never happen, without getting ready for the one thing that surely will. Many athletes will never win a gold medal, many soldiers will never fight in a war, many political candidates will never win an election – but none of this matters, and certainly none of it cheapens or denigrates the efforts they put in to their work. In fact, we are a better society because of it, in one way or another. When the hour comes, they would have been ready and willing to step up to the mark, and that is what matters. In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells His disciples that His hour has come ‘the hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.’ He has the sense of destiny that you would expect of the Messiah, forged in the desert and shown to people through His earthly ministry. However, this is not the first time that Jesus speaks of His hour. The first time is at the Wedding Feast at Cana, when Mary tells Jesus that they have no wine, to which Jesus says ‘Woman, what have you to do with me. My hour has not yet come. – but He still provides an intimation of His divinity as well as some powerful practical teaching about the keeping of covenants. Maybe this is the time we live in now?We probably all ask ourselves, ‘what would it have been like to have been in the gospels, to have seen Christ face to face?’ Today we get our question answered to as full an extent as we are able to. We came to know Jesus not by having met him during his life on earth. Rather we were introduced to him by reputation, the ‘doxa’ I spoke about last week: those who formed us in the Christian faith told us about him. Having heard about him and having believed what we have heard, ultimately, we wish to see Jesus.When Jesus hears that there are some Greeks wanting to see him, his reply is not directed just at them, but it is a reply to you, to me and to all who have idly wondered ‘what do they do in that building?’. Up to this point in St John’s gospel, we are repeatedly told, ‘his hour had not yet come’, even though there are plenty of signs of that hour coming. Now, things change. Now, Jesus says:‘The hour has come for the Son of man to be glorified.’And once the voice of the Father has thundered from heaven, the gospel seems to shift up a gear. After years of preaching and working of miraculous signs, the Passion of the Christ begins: the whole sequence of events that we commemorate over the next two weeks. That’s why we veil our images in church today, not because we want to make the place look gloomy – in fact quite the opposite, we want to see His glory, and that glory, that doxa, is brought in front of our noses, we want to see Him, and here He is, in the events of Passiontide and Holy Week which make us bear the name ‘Christian’, like Christ, if we actually believe.But remember what it is that triggers this momentous change: the arrival of some unnamed Greeks, hiding in darkness and the seemingly innocuous request, ‘we wish to see Jesus.’ The Shepherds came to the manger to seek Him, the Magi were led there, now the Greek world, representing the rest of humanity, ask to see Him and that simple request is answered in the fulness of the plan of redemption. If you don’t feel your prayers are being answered, maybe just ask to see Him, to know Him, to walk these two weeks with Him. The consequences of such a simple request probably surprised the Greeks, and might surprise us when we ask as well, but the life of Christ, the discipleship of His Church, this way to life is one that must be seen by the whole world. Maybe we like singing the hymns, maybe we like the smell of the incense, maybe we like the social side of community, and there is nothing wrong in any of that, but the fact is that the mission of Christ is shown here to those who seek Him, and it requires change from us, and a missionary zeal like His. What do people see of Him in us when they seek Him in our hearts, in our building and in our manner of life?Sometime later in St John’s Gospel, when Jesus’s disciples urge Him to go to the feast of Tabernacles in Jerusalem to display His works, He again alludes to this hour when He replies to them ‘My time has not yet come’. When Jesus eventually goes to the feast, He proclaims in the temple ‘I have not come of My own accord; He who sent Me is true, and Him you do not know. I know Him, for I come from Him, and He sent Me.’ Because of this, we’re told that the authorities wanted to arrest Jesus, but no one laid hands on Him because His hour had not yet come. Then, on another occasion, Jesus tells the Pharisees within the temple treasury ‘You know neither Me nor My Father; if you knew Me, you would know My Father also.’ But again, Jesus is not arrested because His hour has not yet come. Now we know Him, now we see Him, now the hour has come for the Church of God to be like Him, so people can see Jesus in us. If we are Christians, they will see Him before they see us.
At last, the gloom is lifting! Three weeks of Lent, the darkness of the vestments and the tone of the hymns is changing slightly, reminding us that even though this might all Be Good For Us, it isn’t always much fun and another week of hymns reminding us how bad we are would have thrown me over the edge even more than I already am. We get happy words today, even if they are couched in metaphorical and nocturnal darkness. One of the most important words in St John’s Gospel is ‘glory’; right at the beginning we read that ‘the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son…’ Jesus Christ is the revelation of the glory of the Father. And that glory is beheld especially when Christ is ‘lifted up’ on the cross – that’s very Lenten, and very Johannine, the idea that glory comes from suffering, so maybe there is a point to Lent after all.In this idea of glory, John is changing the meaning of the Greek word that he uses. Changing or transforming things is a hallmark of our faith. That word is ‘doxa’, and in the normal Greek of the time it referred to your reputation, being well-thought of, or ‘fame’ or of course, the opposite, being thought of as a pain in the neck, or constantly dragging others down to shore up your doxa! It’s something to do with what people say about you, something noisy, creating a persona from your energy or negative energy. Whereas in the Gospel, glory is something not noisy (can you imagine that the Transfiguration made a noise?) but shiny, glorious in a still, golden way. This is the Jewish notion of glory, the visible manifestation of the greatness of God. Moses saw the glory of God on Sinai, and later that same glory was seen to enter into the temple that Solomon built for the Lord in Jerusalem.So divine glory is not about reputation, which is second hand. It’s not about what people say about you, which may or may not be true. It’s not something you can find on Love Island or I’m a Celebrity – it’s a lot more beautiful than that. Divine glory is something self-evident, something that stares you in the face. You can’t miss it because it’s not like anything else, and we can occasionally sense it right here, because we come to find it.Saint John has found this doxa and he’s quite clear about it. At the beginning of his first epistle he says that what he’s talking about is ‘what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands…’ and he makes us aware that when the doxa, the glory of God drops itself into our field of vision, we cannot ignore it – that’s why we come back, isn’t it? Kind of chasing the dragon, looking for the way we felt when we first really believed, but also knowing that we are not expecting to find that again, the gift has been given, and discipleship does not entail a continual opening of presents, but a time when we start to give them to others, to give out what we have received. That’s why this glory, this doxa, is incompatible with the Greek idea and indeed our modern idea, of fame and celebrity – Kylie Minogue, for all her undoubted good points, does not demand a life changing decision from you, nor expect you to give away your concert tickets. Indeed she would be quite content for you to be completely indifferent to her – you have no need to choose to be for or against her. Although you may feel differently about the Kardashians.However, you are required to make a choice about faith, about God, about this Christ who is lifted up, because He has not only redefined the meaning of ‘glory’, but also redefines how this doxa/glory can be revealed in a most dramatic way – on the cross. The crucifixion is the moment of decision – a decisive moment for him, of course, when he made the choice of obedience and thus proved himself indeed to be the Word made flesh. But a decisive moment for us also, the time to choose between good and evil, light and darkness in a decisive moment when the Father allowed the Son to be raised up, and that lofty vantage point between light and darkness, good and evil, the garden of Eden and the dead land of Calvary says to us ‘open your eyes, share my vantage point, look at what I look at’ because as St Paul says ‘God has raised us up with him’.We share therefore in that glorious light of the world, and the Church, our Mother, guides us in that work, not seeking her own glory, not seeking to be greater than anyone else, but calling us to share in that one equal light that we share, that one equal glory that we share with this man on a cross, giving ourselves for others, living in the light, and no longer chasing the dragon of our first belief, or of fame or noisy fortune, but finding our home in this hose of doxa, this house of Glory, our mother church and our family unit.Bring us, O Lord God, at our last awakening into the house and gate of heaven, to enter into that gate and dwell in that house, where there shall be no darkness nor dazzling, but one equal light; no noise nor silence, but one equal music; no fears nor hopes, but one equal possession; no ends nor beginnings, but one equal eternity: in the habitations of thy majesty and glory, world without end. Amen.
As Father Paul is preaching in church today, I thought I’d write about money. That may well mean that you stop reading here, but if you do so, you’ll never know if I’m talking about the need for it to look after our buildings, or if we are giving it out. We actually do give money out reasonably regularly – occasionally in cash or buying a product or service to give to someone in need, or in having the heating turned on, or having insurance, or one of a number of myriad ways that we pay out so that those who worship with us can do so without stress or worry. I hope that we would not have our tables turned over in our temple, as so often, the money seems to go another way entirely!Every week in churches throughout the world as we do here, baskets of money will be carried up the aisle. Sometimes they are presented to the priest who presides at mass, although I find this as toe curlingly embarrassing as when people bow or curtsey to me – I had a lot of curtseyers in London, and every time I would try and steady them and say ‘oh dear, is it your arthritis?’ until this habit ceased! There are many variations in the way this collecting and presenting of money is done but anyone who was completely ignorant of Christianity might think that money was, because of the way it is collected and processed, pretty central to Christian worship, and I think in some churches it probably is. Yet in today’s Gospel, Jesus overturns the money changers tables, and throws them out. Has something gone badly wrong with our liturgy? I don’t think it has. There is a difference between the offertory procession and the actions of the money changers, but it is a subtle one but one worth knowing. In the early Church, it would be easier to see the difference since the offertory procession would mean bringing up bread and wine for the Eucharist made in the homes of the people, as well as food for the poor. It would also include money and here we should be clear. There are plenty of verses which clearly look on money with a scornful eye. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains. (1Timothy 6:10) If then you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? (Luke 16:11). Judas betrays Jesus for money. Still the fact that these works are uncomfortable with Judas having so banal a motive as a desire for money, shows that we all have an uneasiness about money. Really, the amount of money that Judas betrayed Jesus for was a small amount, tokenistic, you might say, of his decision to switch camps and work for the oppressor once he realised that the Messiah was not going to be quite what he was hoping for.We may hope for enough money to pay our bills, to feed us, to keep our church open, to have enough left over to help others do the same as well, and hope here is a virtue, as long as we also work towards that hoped for outcome. Hope without God as its object though is merely an emotion, and it can be a very destructive emotion. It is this emotional hope which makes people preoccupied with money for its own sake, which makes them compulsive gamblers, which makes them always look for a new partner, who will bring them happiness. The keynote of this hope is to look not at what we have but what we don’t have. Happiness is always around the corner, but there is always another corner. So Christ clears the temple of those who have lost sight even of the hope offered by the old covenant. They were in the temple of God and they were thinking of everything except God. In effect they weren’t really in the temple, because the Temple is the presence of God and they sought another idol.The virtue of hope this Lent is maybe based in the Cross, in the actions and reactions that led to it, and in the offering made upon it, for us and for all humanity. Love and hope became entwined on that tree and if we hope to keep our church open, and if we hope to have enough left to help others live as we live, then we do so out of love not of money but love of our neighbour, love of God. This is why we give to the church that gives to us, and why that money is set aside, taken into the Sanctuary, because unlike the Temple in those ancient days, we are using these offerings to bring hope to people out of love for each other, not out of love for money – however, if you do find yourself loving money, the best remedy is certainly to give it away!
It’s not very easy to have a mental picture of the Disciples, or the Gospel stories. I suppose I would set them in the only hot, dusty place I know well, which is Cyprus in October, when the harvests have been taken in and the land is barren, maybe just some olive groves yet to harvest and turn those black, bitter pearls into rich, golden olive oil. Maybe I can picture Jesus and His disciples there, by the ‘Coca Cola’ sign advertising the Steni Taverna, the view from which is like nothing other than the opening scenes of the original Star Wars film, and you half expect Han Solo to come walking in, ordering a round of drinks. I can picture them in the Taverna as well, ordering food, eating and drinking – because they surely must have done – and the looks from the other customers – I wonder if as many wanted to sit near them as wanted to sit away form them? It would be easy to extend this mental fantasy to the time after the Ascension, before they went their own way, excitedly but reluctantly maybe breaking up the followship to take the Good News of what they had heard and seen all over the world, Thomas to quite different landscapes in India, Luke to Cyprus, John to his prison in Patmos. They may have laughed, teased each other, remembering the old days and by their words, beginning the long and complex process of the Gospels being written, woven from fragments of conversations, and lived shared experiences into these words that mean so much to us.Then, after the lamb and flatbreads are eaten, one of them looks at Peter and says, “So Peter, tell us about the day you rebuked Jesus!” Another joins in, “I wonder how did that work out for you?” Another, “What were you thinking about, Peter?” Peter begins to speak, “I just didn’t like the whole suffering and dying conversation. I didn’t get it. That’s not what I signed up for. That’s not who I thought the Messiah would be.” The others become quiet. They recall that day like it was yesterday. They begin to realize that Peter didn’t say anything they weren’t thinking and maybe Peter didn’t say anything we haven’t thought or even wanted to say. Jesus has a very different understanding of discipleship than what most of us probably want. If we are really honest haven’t we, at some point, disagreed with Jesus, asking why he doesn’t do what we want? Why won’t he see the world our way? It all seems so clear to us, with the sight that we have of the world that we live in and help to create.If he can cast out the demons surely he could silence the voices that drive people so deep into themselves that they cannot find the way back. If he can heal Peter’s mother-in-law why not those we love? If he can cleanse the leper why does our life sometimes leave us feeling unclean and isolated? If he can make the paralytic walk why are so many crippled by fear, dementia, or addiction? Yet they rage on, violence, war, poverty. If he can feed 5000 with a few fish and pieces of bread why does much of the world to go to bed hungry, crying at the end of the day?I have wondered about these things. I have been asked these kinds of questions. I know some who have lost faith and left the Church over these things. These are our rebukes of Jesus. Our echoes of Peter. He is not being or acting like we want either – and nor do we act like Him. Peter has an image of what the Messiah is supposed to do and who the Messiah is supposed to be and we like that image because it gives us what we want.Jesus will not, however, conform to our images of who we think he is or who we want him to be. We either choose ourselves and deny Jesus or we deny ourselves and choose Jesus. “If any want to become my followers let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” I suspect that is not what Peter had in mind when Jesus said, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” The Messiah is supposed to offer security, protection, and put Israel back on top. Faith in Jesus, Peter is learning, is not about the elimination of risks, and the ability to control. Instead, Jesus asks us to risk it all and relinquish control to God. That is what Jesus is doing and it’s slightly terrifying.As long as we believe our life is about us, we will continue to exercise power over others, try to save ourselves, control our circumstances, and maybe even rebuke Jesus. Jesus rarely exercised power over others or tried to control circumstances. He simply made different choices. Discipleship is not about being out of control or powerless. It is about choosing a different, greater power.Jesus chose to give in a world that takes, to love in a world that hates, to heal in a world that injures, to give life in a world that kills. He offered mercy when others sought vengeance, forgiveness when others condemned, and compassion when others were indifferent. At some point those kinds of choices will catch the attention of and offend those who live and profit by power, control, and self-preservation They will not deny themselves. They will respond. Jesus said they would. He knew that he would be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes. It happens in every age for those who choose the path of self-denial. When it happened for Jesus, he made one last choice. He chose resurrection over survival. It’s a brave, difficult path we tread, and we tread it together because not one of us can manage it on our own.
