New Year’s Resolutions frustrate me. I never make them. Here are helpful thoughts from two authors on this subject:

So let’s make our annual, New Year’s “to do” lists. Desire, and even ambition, will lead the way. But if you want anything on your list to happen, add a good dose of discipline. Which means that along with your “to do” list, you’ll make a list of another kind. A “stop doing” list.(James Emery White)

You can know the reality of God if you like, for God will rejoice to assist and infinitely over-reward whatever effort you make. Resolution is the crucial point … From your prayers form simple resolutions – not, like the absurd resolutions of New Year’s Day, resolutions for the next 12 months, but for the next 12 hours. Make them few enough to be practicable, and obey them for the sake of God himself.(Austin Farrer)

Technorati Tags: newyearresolutions, JamesEmeryWhite, AustinFarrer

Matthew
2:13-23

Introduction
How did you spend Christmas? I spent Boxing Day and the twenty-seventh a
hundred miles away, helping my eighty-year-old father care for my mother. She
had had a fall ten days before Christmas. I got back to my wife, who had been
running a temperature all week. Our son had gone down ill that evening. The
next night, our daughter did.

However, that was nothing to Christmas Day. My first duty in
the Christmas morning service at Broomfield this year was to announce the
arrangements for a funeral. One of our elderly members had died in the early
hours of the twenty-third. Her husband, one of her daughters and sons-in-law,
and three grandchildren were in the congregation. I can’t imagine they felt
much like being there.

Then you come to our Lectionary Gospel reading for today,
‘the slaughter of the innocents.’ We’d like to pretend it wasn’t in the story.
But in the midst of Christmas joy is this tale of an ancient Saddam Hussein or
Robert Mugabe. It reminds me of the Dunblane massacre in
1996. The Sunday following that horrific crime was Mothering Sunday, and I
remember saying I ought to preach about it in the service, because people would
be talking about it and asking big questions of faith. One of my church
stewards was horrified. He wanted it reduced to a line in the prayers. I’m
ashamed to say I gave in to him.

This story forces us to confront the dark side of Christmas
and of life. It makes us face the very reasons God sent his Son into the world.

But how to preach about it? One of the keys to Matthew’s
interpretation of the story is in the three times he relates it to the
fulfilment of prophecy. The flight into Egypt is to fulfil the words of Hosea,
‘Out of Egypt I called my son’ (verse 15). The weeping of mothers for their
infant sons is connected to Jeremiah’s words (verses 17-18). And Jesus’
upbringing in Nazareth is said to be linked to prophecy (verse 23).

Yet Hosea, Jeremiah and the Nazarene prophecy (which
probably relates to Isaiah) would not have had these meanings in mind when they
first preached them. However, Matthew sees a deeper meaning in their words,
which can only be seen in the light of Christ’s coming. With that in mind, I
want to explore this troubling story, using the fulfilment of prophecy in
Christ as a way into some meaning.

1. Hosea
The first prophecy Matthew quotes is in verse 15, and comes from Hosea 11:1:
‘Out of Egypt I called my son.’ But he puts it in a strange place in the story.
At this point Jesus hasn’t come out of Egypt – he’s just gone there. Why make
this association with the Exodus?

I believe the answer is because Matthew is telling us he
sees several parallels between the experience of Jesus and that of Moses and
the Israelites. Jesus is having a Moses experience. There are many echoes of
Moses here. Both are rescued from a ruler intent on murdering infants. In both
cases, their deliverance is to some extent based on the actions of parents.
Jesus returns once Herod is dead, and Moses returned once Pharaoh had died.
Moses led his people to deliverance from slavery to the Egyptians; Jesus was so
named, because he would save his people from their sins.

And Jesus is the fulfilment of Israel’s story. When Hosea
originally said, ‘Out of Egypt I called my son,’ he meant Israel by ‘my son’.
Israel was called the son of God in the Old Testament. Jesus enters Israel’s
sufferings and victories. But unlike her, he will be fully obedient to the
Father’s will. He will therefore properly deserve the title ‘son of God’, on
grounds of that obedience as well as his conception.

What do I learn from all of this? I learn that Jesus is the
fulfilment of the Father’s plans. He is the climax of all God has done (and is
doing) in history. If you want the summit of the mountain, look at Jesus. We
see everything in the light of him. Even the bad stuff, like a cruel ruler
sending the death squads to take out toddlers, and the need to escape – look to
Jesus. Because Jesus is a threat to the unjust rulers of this world. They are
uncomfortable and frightened by him. They will lash out. But Jesus will win.
Let’s remember that next time we turn on the news and see atrocities, whether
it is

2. Jeremiah
Now we get closer to the pain of the story. We read of the slaughter. Scholars
reckon that given the likely population of Bethlehem in those days, Herod’s
henchmen probably murdered about twenty young boys. It’s entirely consistent
with Herod’s character: he had his wife and three of his sons killed, because
he felt threatened. However, by his standards, the death of only twenty boys
was small fry. That’s probably why the historians of his day don’t record the
incident. Nevertheless, that is twenty lives cut short, without flourishing and
fulfilling their potential. It is twenty families plunged into unimaginable
grief.

And in this context, Matthew quotes Jeremiah 31:15, where
Rachel is imagined weeping for those being taken into exile by the Babylonian
forces. It is a time of heartbreak, desperation and loss of hope from Israel’s
history. How the mothers of Bethlehem must have felt like that. No wonder
Matthew alights on this text about the weeping and wailing without consolation
in Ramah.

Coming to this story with our ears, we have questions about
why a God of love would allow this, especially to ‘innocent’ children. Alternatively,
we think of Christian testimonies where somebody explains how God delivered them
from a terrible tragedy. There was one
in last Thursday’s Essex Chronicle, about a man who survived the 9/11
attacks. Thankfully, he didn’t claim that he survived because of his faith and
others died because they didn’t share his faith. He simply said it made him
realise how important it was in life to have God, family and friends. I’m sure
he knew that other Christians perished on that terrible day.

So what is Matthew telling us? I think it might be something
like this. The scripture from Jeremiah 31 about the wailing of the exile is one
dark moment set in two chapters (30 and 31) that have traditionally been called
‘The Book of Consolation’ in Jeremiah. They are the short-term darkness in the
middle of long-term hope, just as the slaughter of the innocents occurs within
the joy of the nativity story. Moreover, although God delivers Jesus here, he
will not always be safe from harm. He will die a terrible death as an innocent
man on the cross.

Matthew, then, doesn’t tell us of a God who suddenly makes
everything right. He tells us of a God who works for good in the long term. He
tells us of a God who enters human suffering in order to redeem creation. He is
beginning a story that will embrace affliction but not end there. It will end
with resurrection and the command for the disciples of Jesus to preach this
good news. Our story today is part of a larger story: one of crib, cross and
empty tomb. And it is that story which gives hope and purpose to all who embrace
the central character, Jesus. If there were a deliverance from exile for the
people of Judah, there is a greater deliverance for humankind and even creation
brought by him.

3. Isaiah?
The last quotation is the difficult one. Difficult to identify, that is.
Matthew says that Jesus’ upbringing in Nazareth fulfils the word, ‘He will be
called a Nazorean’ (verse 23). The problem is this: there is no such verse in
the Old Testament. Even Matthew sounds a little coy. He doesn’t say it is the
word of a particular prophet, in the way he names Jeremiah. Nor does he say,
‘what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet’, as he does when he
introduces the citation from Hosea. He says instead, ‘what had been spoken
through the prophets’, a rather general statement.

There are two popular theories here. One is that Matthew
thinks Jesus will be an Old Testament Nazirite. However, Jesus never keeps
Nazirite vows, such as refusing to touch alcohol or a dead body. So that’s
unlikely.

The better theory is that Jesus will be a neser, the Hebrew word for ‘branch’,
which is used in a prophecy of the Messiah in Isaiah 11:1. If that is the case,
then Matthew gives us a pun on Nazareth to say that this vulnerable infant who
escaped the clutches of Herod the Great is the one in whom ‘the hopes and fears
of all the years are met’.

But here’s the thing. He is Messiah. However, he is Messiah
from an unpromising, obscure northern town. He isn’t from Jerusalem, the
metropolis. God works his salvation from the margins. He doesn’t go for the
bright lights, the power, the flash and all that so routinely impresses our
society. He starts not at the centre, but at the edges. He begins not in
Herod’s palace but a manger in Bethlehem. His favour falls on an obscure
carpenter and his teenage bride, not princes and celebrities.

It isn’t what a modern-day publicist like Max Clifford would
advocate at all. Yet it is from this place of weakness, not human power, that
the climax of God’s great plan is set into motion. ‘Can anything good come out
of Nazareth?’ Absolutely. Nazareth, in Galilee – ‘Galilee of the Gentiles’ –
will be the location. From here, God’s salvation will reach not only his chosen
people but also the Gentiles, the entire world.

Therefore, if you feel like you’re not in the limelight and
not earning the reputation you’d like in this world, rejoice! You are just the kind
of person God loves to work with! If you think Coggeshall is a small,
out-of-the-way backwater village drowned by Colchester, Chelmsford and worst of
all, London, be happy! This is the very sort of location where God sets up camp
and gets to work with his beautiful plans of grace. It’s what he did in the
sending of his Son to set down roots in Nazareth, in Galilee of the Gentiles. Thrill
to the ways of God, instead of being in thrall to the ways of the world.

Conclusion
Let’s summarise and then ponder what we’re going to do about all this. Firstly,
I suggested that Jesus is the fulfilment of the Father’s plans, and is a threat
to the tyrants of the world. Secondly, I offered the thought that God’s work in
Jesus shows how he is at work long term even in the suffering of the world, to
bring long-term resurrection hope. Finally, I argued that God places Jesus his
Messiah in what the world would consider an unlikely, unworthy locality to
begin the revolution of his kingdom, and that is cause for joy.

Frankly, it’s all a reason for celebration, isn’t it? But it’s
also a reason for something else. Three times in the first two chapters of Matthew,
including twice in our reading today, an angel of the Lord appears in a dream
to Joseph. Joseph’s reaction is consistent. When he hears the word of the Lord,
he obeys.

So what have you heard today? Is it a voice of challenge –
that Jesus, the fulfilment of the Father’s plans, makes evil powerful people
scared, and that he calls his followers to share in his ways? Is it a voice of
hope and comfort (for yourself or others), that God in Christ is at work even
in the suffering of the world to bring hope? Is it a word of encouragement
(again, for yourself or others) that just as God placed his Messiah in a little
known town, so he still enjoys using people on the margins for his sovereign
will?

Whatever kind of word we have heard today, will we – like Joseph
– obey?

Technorati Tags: slaugheroftheinnocents, Dunblane, Jesus, Moses, HerodTheGreat, Hosea, Jeremiah, Bethlehem, Ramah, 9/11, EssexChronicle, exodus, exile, Isaiah, Nazareth, Nazirite, Messiah, MaxClifford, SaddamHussein, RobertMugabe, Coggeshall, Colchester, Chelmsford, Broomfield

Matthew
2:13-23

Introduction
How did you spend Christmas? I spent Boxing Day and the twenty-seventh a
hundred miles away, helping my eighty-year-old father care for my mother. She
had had a fall ten days before Christmas. I got back to my wife, who had been
running a temperature all week. Our son had gone down ill that evening. The
next night, our daughter did.

However, that was nothing to Christmas Day. My first duty in
the Christmas morning service at Broomfield this year was to announce the
arrangements for a funeral. One of our elderly members had died in the early
hours of the twenty-third. Her husband, one of her daughters and sons-in-law,
and three grandchildren were in the congregation. I can’t imagine they felt
much like being there.

Then you come to our Lectionary Gospel reading for today,
‘the slaughter of the innocents.’ We’d like to pretend it wasn’t in the story.
But in the midst of Christmas joy is this tale of an ancient Saddam Hussein or
Robert Mugabe. It reminds me of the Dunblane massacre in
1996. The Sunday following that horrific crime was Mothering Sunday, and I
remember saying I ought to preach about it in the service, because people would
be talking about it and asking big questions of faith. One of my church
stewards was horrified. He wanted it reduced to a line in the prayers. I’m
ashamed to say I gave in to him.

This story forces us to confront the dark side of Christmas
and of life. It makes us face the very reasons God sent his Son into the world.

But how to preach about it? One of the keys to Matthew’s
interpretation of the story is in the three times he relates it to the
fulfilment of prophecy. The flight into Egypt is to fulfil the words of Hosea,
‘Out of Egypt I called my son’ (verse 15). The weeping of mothers for their
infant sons is connected to Jeremiah’s words (verses 17-18). And Jesus’
upbringing in Nazareth is said to be linked to prophecy (verse 23).

Yet Hosea, Jeremiah and the Nazarene prophecy (which
probably relates to Isaiah) would not have had these meanings in mind when they
first preached them. However, Matthew sees a deeper meaning in their words,
which can only be seen in the light of Christ’s coming. With that in mind, I
want to explore this troubling story, using the fulfilment of prophecy in
Christ as a way into some meaning.

1. Hosea
The first prophecy Matthew quotes is in verse 15, and comes from Hosea 11:1:
‘Out of Egypt I called my son.’ But he puts it in a strange place in the story.
At this point Jesus hasn’t come out of Egypt – he’s just gone there. Why make
this association with the Exodus?

I believe the answer is because Matthew is telling us he
sees several parallels between the experience of Jesus and that of Moses and
the Israelites. Jesus is having a Moses experience. There are many echoes of
Moses here. Both are rescued from a ruler intent on murdering infants. In both
cases, their deliverance is to some extent based on the actions of parents.
Jesus returns once Herod is dead, and Moses returned once Pharaoh had died.
Moses led his people to deliverance from slavery to the Egyptians; Jesus was so
named, because he would save his people from their sins.

And Jesus is the fulfilment of Israel’s story. When Hosea
originally said, ‘Out of Egypt I called my son,’ he meant Israel by ‘my son’.
Israel was called the son of God in the Old Testament. Jesus enters Israel’s
sufferings and victories. But unlike her, he will be fully obedient to the
Father’s will. He will therefore properly deserve the title ‘son of God’, on
grounds of that obedience as well as his conception.

What do I learn from all of this? I learn that Jesus is the
fulfilment of the Father’s plans. He is the climax of all God has done (and is
doing) in history. If you want the summit of the mountain, look at Jesus. We
see everything in the light of him. Even the bad stuff, like a cruel ruler
sending the death squads to take out toddlers, and the need to escape – look to
Jesus. Because Jesus is a threat to the unjust rulers of this world. They are
uncomfortable and frightened by him. They will lash out. But Jesus will win.
Let’s remember that next time we turn on the news and see atrocities, whether
it is

2. Jeremiah
Now we get closer to the pain of the story. We read of the slaughter. Scholars
reckon that given the likely population of Bethlehem in those days, Herod’s
henchmen probably murdered about twenty young boys. It’s entirely consistent
with Herod’s character: he had his wife and three of his sons killed, because
he felt threatened. However, by his standards, the death of only twenty boys
was small fry. That’s probably why the historians of his day don’t record the
incident. Nevertheless, that is twenty lives cut short, without flourishing and
fulfilling their potential. It is twenty families plunged into unimaginable
grief.

And in this context, Matthew quotes Jeremiah 31:15, where
Rachel is imagined weeping for those being taken into exile by the Babylonian
forces. It is a time of heartbreak, desperation and loss of hope from Israel’s
history. How the mothers of Bethlehem must have felt like that. No wonder
Matthew alights on this text about the weeping and wailing without consolation
in Ramah.

Coming to this story with our ears, we have questions about
why a God of love would allow this, especially to ‘innocent’ children. Alternatively,
we think of Christian testimonies where somebody explains how God delivered them
from a terrible tragedy. There was one
in last Thursday’s Essex Chronicle, about a man who survived the 9/11
attacks. Thankfully, he didn’t claim that he survived because of his faith and
others died because they didn’t share his faith. He simply said it made him
realise how important it was in life to have God, family and friends. I’m sure
he knew that other Christians perished on that terrible day.

So what is Matthew telling us? I think it might be something
like this. The scripture from Jeremiah 31 about the wailing of the exile is one
dark moment set in two chapters (30 and 31) that have traditionally been called
‘The Book of Consolation’ in Jeremiah. They are the short-term darkness in the
middle of long-term hope, just as the slaughter of the innocents occurs within
the joy of the nativity story. Moreover, although God delivers Jesus here, he
will not always be safe from harm. He will die a terrible death as an innocent
man on the cross.

Matthew, then, doesn’t tell us of a God who suddenly makes
everything right. He tells us of a God who works for good in the long term. He
tells us of a God who enters human suffering in order to redeem creation. He is
beginning a story that will embrace affliction but not end there. It will end
with resurrection and the command for the disciples of Jesus to preach this
good news. Our story today is part of a larger story: one of crib, cross and
empty tomb. And it is that story which gives hope and purpose to all who embrace
the central character, Jesus. If there were a deliverance from exile for the
people of Judah, there is a greater deliverance for humankind and even creation
brought by him.

3. Isaiah?
The last quotation is the difficult one. Difficult to identify, that is.
Matthew says that Jesus’ upbringing in Nazareth fulfils the word, ‘He will be
called a Nazorean’ (verse 23). The problem is this: there is no such verse in
the Old Testament. Even Matthew sounds a little coy. He doesn’t say it is the
word of a particular prophet, in the way he names Jeremiah. Nor does he say,
‘what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet’, as he does when he
introduces the citation from Hosea. He says instead, ‘what had been spoken
through the prophets’, a rather general statement.

There are two popular theories here. One is that Matthew
thinks Jesus will be an Old Testament Nazirite. However, Jesus never keeps
Nazirite vows, such as refusing to touch alcohol or a dead body. So that’s
unlikely.

The better theory is that Jesus will be a neser, the Hebrew word for ‘branch’,
which is used in a prophecy of the Messiah in Isaiah 11:1. If that is the case,
then Matthew gives us a pun on Nazareth to say that this vulnerable infant who
escaped the clutches of Herod the Great is the one in whom ‘the hopes and fears
of all the years are met’.

But here’s the thing. He is Messiah. However, he is Messiah
from an unpromising, obscure northern town. He isn’t from Jerusalem, the
metropolis. God works his salvation from the margins. He doesn’t go for the
bright lights, the power, the flash and all that so routinely impresses our
society. He starts not at the centre, but at the edges. He begins not in
Herod’s palace but a manger in Bethlehem. His favour falls on an obscure
carpenter and his teenage bride, not princes and celebrities.

It isn’t what a modern-day publicist like Max Clifford would
advocate at all. Yet it is from this place of weakness, not human power, that
the climax of God’s great plan is set into motion. ‘Can anything good come out
of Nazareth?’ Absolutely. Nazareth, in Galilee – ‘Galilee of the Gentiles’ –
will be the location. From here, God’s salvation will reach not only his chosen
people but also the Gentiles, the entire world.

Therefore, if you feel like you’re not in the limelight and
not earning the reputation you’d like in this world, rejoice! You are just the kind
of person God loves to work with! If you think Coggeshall is a small,
out-of-the-way backwater village drowned by Colchester, Chelmsford and worst of
all, London, be happy! This is the very sort of location where God sets up camp
and gets to work with his beautiful plans of grace. It’s what he did in the
sending of his Son to set down roots in Nazareth, in Galilee of the Gentiles. Thrill
to the ways of God, instead of being in thrall to the ways of the world.

Conclusion
Let’s summarise and then ponder what we’re going to do about all this. Firstly,
I suggested that Jesus is the fulfilment of the Father’s plans, and is a threat
to the tyrants of the world. Secondly, I offered the thought that God’s work in
Jesus shows how he is at work long term even in the suffering of the world, to
bring long-term resurrection hope. Finally, I argued that God places Jesus his
Messiah in what the world would consider an unlikely, unworthy locality to
begin the revolution of his kingdom, and that is cause for joy.

Frankly, it’s all a reason for celebration, isn’t it? But it’s
also a reason for something else. Three times in the first two chapters of Matthew,
including twice in our reading today, an angel of the Lord appears in a dream
to Joseph. Joseph’s reaction is consistent. When he hears the word of the Lord,
he obeys.

So what have you heard today? Is it a voice of challenge –
that Jesus, the fulfilment of the Father’s plans, makes evil powerful people
scared, and that he calls his followers to share in his ways? Is it a voice of
hope and comfort (for yourself or others), that God in Christ is at work even
in the suffering of the world to bring hope? Is it a word of encouragement
(again, for yourself or others) that just as God placed his Messiah in a little
known town, so he still enjoys using people on the margins for his sovereign
will?

Whatever kind of word we have heard today, will we – like Joseph
– obey?

Technorati Tags: slaugheroftheinnocents, Dunblane, Jesus, Moses, HerodTheGreat, Hosea, Jeremiah, Bethlehem, Ramah, 9/11, EssexChronicle, exodus, exile, Isaiah, Nazareth, Nazirite, Messiah, MaxClifford, SaddamHussein, RobertMugabe, Coggeshall, Colchester, Chelmsford, Broomfield

Matthew
2:13-23

Introduction
How did you spend Christmas? I spent Boxing Day and the twenty-seventh a
hundred miles away, helping my eighty-year-old father care for my mother. She
had had a fall ten days before Christmas. I got back to my wife, who had been
running a temperature all week. Our son had gone down ill that evening. The
next night, our daughter did.

However, that was nothing to Christmas Day. My first duty in
the Christmas morning service at Broomfield this year was to announce the
arrangements for a funeral. One of our elderly members had died in the early
hours of the twenty-third. Her husband, one of her daughters and sons-in-law,
and three grandchildren were in the congregation. I can’t imagine they felt
much like being there.

Then you come to our Lectionary Gospel reading for today,
‘the slaughter of the innocents.’ We’d like to pretend it wasn’t in the story.
But in the midst of Christmas joy is this tale of an ancient Saddam Hussein or
Robert Mugabe. It reminds me of the Dunblane massacre in
1996. The Sunday following that horrific crime was Mothering Sunday, and I
remember saying I ought to preach about it in the service, because people would
be talking about it and asking big questions of faith. One of my church
stewards was horrified. He wanted it reduced to a line in the prayers. I’m
ashamed to say I gave in to him.

This story forces us to confront the dark side of Christmas
and of life. It makes us face the very reasons God sent his Son into the world.

But how to preach about it? One of the keys to Matthew’s
interpretation of the story is in the three times he relates it to the
fulfilment of prophecy. The flight into Egypt is to fulfil the words of Hosea,
‘Out of Egypt I called my son’ (verse 15). The weeping of mothers for their
infant sons is connected to Jeremiah’s words (verses 17-18). And Jesus’
upbringing in Nazareth is said to be linked to prophecy (verse 23).

Yet Hosea, Jeremiah and the Nazarene prophecy (which
probably relates to Isaiah) would not have had these meanings in mind when they
first preached them. However, Matthew sees a deeper meaning in their words,
which can only be seen in the light of Christ’s coming. With that in mind, I
want to explore this troubling story, using the fulfilment of prophecy in
Christ as a way into some meaning.

1. Hosea
The first prophecy Matthew quotes is in verse 15, and comes from Hosea 11:1:
‘Out of Egypt I called my son.’ But he puts it in a strange place in the story.
At this point Jesus hasn’t come out of Egypt – he’s just gone there. Why make
this association with the Exodus?

I believe the answer is because Matthew is telling us he
sees several parallels between the experience of Jesus and that of Moses and
the Israelites. Jesus is having a Moses experience. There are many echoes of
Moses here. Both are rescued from a ruler intent on murdering infants. In both
cases, their deliverance is to some extent based on the actions of parents.
Jesus returns once Herod is dead, and Moses returned once Pharaoh had died.
Moses led his people to deliverance from slavery to the Egyptians; Jesus was so
named, because he would save his people from their sins.

And Jesus is the fulfilment of Israel’s story. When Hosea
originally said, ‘Out of Egypt I called my son,’ he meant Israel by ‘my son’.
Israel was called the son of God in the Old Testament. Jesus enters Israel’s
sufferings and victories. But unlike her, he will be fully obedient to the
Father’s will. He will therefore properly deserve the title ‘son of God’, on
grounds of that obedience as well as his conception.

What do I learn from all of this? I learn that Jesus is the
fulfilment of the Father’s plans. He is the climax of all God has done (and is
doing) in history. If you want the summit of the mountain, look at Jesus. We
see everything in the light of him. Even the bad stuff, like a cruel ruler
sending the death squads to take out toddlers, and the need to escape – look to
Jesus. Because Jesus is a threat to the unjust rulers of this world. They are
uncomfortable and frightened by him. They will lash out. But Jesus will win.
Let’s remember that next time we turn on the news and see atrocities, whether
it is

2. Jeremiah
Now we get closer to the pain of the story. We read of the slaughter. Scholars
reckon that given the likely population of Bethlehem in those days, Herod’s
henchmen probably murdered about twenty young boys. It’s entirely consistent
with Herod’s character: he had his wife and three of his sons killed, because
he felt threatened. However, by his standards, the death of only twenty boys
was small fry. That’s probably why the historians of his day don’t record the
incident. Nevertheless, that is twenty lives cut short, without flourishing and
fulfilling their potential. It is twenty families plunged into unimaginable
grief.

And in this context, Matthew quotes Jeremiah 31:15, where
Rachel is imagined weeping for those being taken into exile by the Babylonian
forces. It is a time of heartbreak, desperation and loss of hope from Israel’s
history. How the mothers of Bethlehem must have felt like that. No wonder
Matthew alights on this text about the weeping and wailing without consolation
in Ramah.

Coming to this story with our ears, we have questions about
why a God of love would allow this, especially to ‘innocent’ children. Alternatively,
we think of Christian testimonies where somebody explains how God delivered them
from a terrible tragedy. There was one
in last Thursday’s Essex Chronicle, about a man who survived the 9/11
attacks. Thankfully, he didn’t claim that he survived because of his faith and
others died because they didn’t share his faith. He simply said it made him
realise how important it was in life to have God, family and friends. I’m sure
he knew that other Christians perished on that terrible day.

So what is Matthew telling us? I think it might be something
like this. The scripture from Jeremiah 31 about the wailing of the exile is one
dark moment set in two chapters (30 and 31) that have traditionally been called
‘The Book of Consolation’ in Jeremiah. They are the short-term darkness in the
middle of long-term hope, just as the slaughter of the innocents occurs within
the joy of the nativity story. Moreover, although God delivers Jesus here, he
will not always be safe from harm. He will die a terrible death as an innocent
man on the cross.

Matthew, then, doesn’t tell us of a God who suddenly makes
everything right. He tells us of a God who works for good in the long term. He
tells us of a God who enters human suffering in order to redeem creation. He is
beginning a story that will embrace affliction but not end there. It will end
with resurrection and the command for the disciples of Jesus to preach this
good news. Our story today is part of a larger story: one of crib, cross and
empty tomb. And it is that story which gives hope and purpose to all who embrace
the central character, Jesus. If there were a deliverance from exile for the
people of Judah, there is a greater deliverance for humankind and even creation
brought by him.

3. Isaiah?
The last quotation is the difficult one. Difficult to identify, that is.
Matthew says that Jesus’ upbringing in Nazareth fulfils the word, ‘He will be
called a Nazorean’ (verse 23). The problem is this: there is no such verse in
the Old Testament. Even Matthew sounds a little coy. He doesn’t say it is the
word of a particular prophet, in the way he names Jeremiah. Nor does he say,
‘what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet’, as he does when he
introduces the citation from Hosea. He says instead, ‘what had been spoken
through the prophets’, a rather general statement.

There are two popular theories here. One is that Matthew
thinks Jesus will be an Old Testament Nazirite. However, Jesus never keeps
Nazirite vows, such as refusing to touch alcohol or a dead body. So that’s
unlikely.

The better theory is that Jesus will be a neser, the Hebrew word for ‘branch’,
which is used in a prophecy of the Messiah in Isaiah 11:1. If that is the case,
then Matthew gives us a pun on Nazareth to say that this vulnerable infant who
escaped the clutches of Herod the Great is the one in whom ‘the hopes and fears
of all the years are met’.

But here’s the thing. He is Messiah. However, he is Messiah
from an unpromising, obscure northern town. He isn’t from Jerusalem, the
metropolis. God works his salvation from the margins. He doesn’t go for the
bright lights, the power, the flash and all that so routinely impresses our
society. He starts not at the centre, but at the edges. He begins not in
Herod’s palace but a manger in Bethlehem. His favour falls on an obscure
carpenter and his teenage bride, not princes and celebrities.

It isn’t what a modern-day publicist like Max Clifford would
advocate at all. Yet it is from this place of weakness, not human power, that
the climax of God’s great plan is set into motion. ‘Can anything good come out
of Nazareth?’ Absolutely. Nazareth, in Galilee – ‘Galilee of the Gentiles’ –
will be the location. From here, God’s salvation will reach not only his chosen
people but also the Gentiles, the entire world.

Therefore, if you feel like you’re not in the limelight and
not earning the reputation you’d like in this world, rejoice! You are just the kind
of person God loves to work with! If you think Coggeshall is a small,
out-of-the-way backwater village drowned by Colchester, Chelmsford and worst of
all, London, be happy! This is the very sort of location where God sets up camp
and gets to work with his beautiful plans of grace. It’s what he did in the
sending of his Son to set down roots in Nazareth, in Galilee of the Gentiles. Thrill
to the ways of God, instead of being in thrall to the ways of the world.

Conclusion
Let’s summarise and then ponder what we’re going to do about all this. Firstly,
I suggested that Jesus is the fulfilment of the Father’s plans, and is a threat
to the tyrants of the world. Secondly, I offered the thought that God’s work in
Jesus shows how he is at work long term even in the suffering of the world, to
bring long-term resurrection hope. Finally, I argued that God places Jesus his
Messiah in what the world would consider an unlikely, unworthy locality to
begin the revolution of his kingdom, and that is cause for joy.

Frankly, it’s all a reason for celebration, isn’t it? But it’s
also a reason for something else. Three times in the first two chapters of Matthew,
including twice in our reading today, an angel of the Lord appears in a dream
to Joseph. Joseph’s reaction is consistent. When he hears the word of the Lord,
he obeys.

So what have you heard today? Is it a voice of challenge –
that Jesus, the fulfilment of the Father’s plans, makes evil powerful people
scared, and that he calls his followers to share in his ways? Is it a voice of
hope and comfort (for yourself or others), that God in Christ is at work even
in the suffering of the world to bring hope? Is it a word of encouragement
(again, for yourself or others) that just as God placed his Messiah in a little
known town, so he still enjoys using people on the margins for his sovereign
will?

Whatever kind of word we have heard today, will we – like Joseph
– obey?

Technorati Tags: slaugheroftheinnocents, Dunblane, Jesus, Moses, HerodTheGreat, Hosea, Jeremiah, Bethlehem, Ramah, 9/11, EssexChronicle, exodus, exile, Isaiah, Nazareth, Nazirite, Messiah, MaxClifford, SaddamHussein, RobertMugabe, Coggeshall, Colchester, Chelmsford, Broomfield

See this news story: Pakistani Christians Lose Hope of Equal Rights Following Assassination – THE PATH® Christian Radio: CDR Radio Network

Via the ‘Pakistan Christian Alert’ email update from CLAAS. It also reports 2007 as the worst year yet for human rights abuses against Christians in Pakistan.

Technorati Tags: BenazirBhutto, Pakistan, Christians, persecution, CLAAS

See this news story: Pakistani Christians Lose Hope of Equal Rights Following Assassination – THE PATH® Christian Radio: CDR Radio Network

Via the ‘Pakistan Christian Alert’ email update from CLAAS. It also reports 2007 as the worst year yet for human rights abuses against Christians in Pakistan.

Technorati Tags: BenazirBhutto, Pakistan, Christians, persecution, CLAAS

See this news story: Pakistani Christians Lose Hope of Equal Rights Following Assassination – THE PATH® Christian Radio: CDR Radio Network

Via the ‘Pakistan Christian Alert’ email update from CLAAS. It also reports 2007 as the worst year yet for human rights abuses against Christians in Pakistan.

Technorati Tags: BenazirBhutto, Pakistan, Christians, persecution, CLAAS

Luke 2:1-20

Introduction
The Archbishop of Canterbury got in trouble the other day in the press. Nothing
new in that, you might think. Perhaps you saw the story. He gave a radio
interview on BBC Five Live to Simon Mayo. Newspapers
screamed that he had denied
the Nativity Story, calling the ‘three wise men’ a ‘legend’. The poor man
hadn’t denied the biblical story at all, as even the Daily Telegraph’s website
admits, by publishing
the transcript. Mayo asked him,

And the wise men with the gold, frankincense, and Myrrh –
with one of the wise men normally being black and the other two being white,
for some reason?

Williams replied,

Well Matthew’s gospel doesn’t tell us that there were three
of them, doesn’t tell us they were kings, doesn’t tell us where they came from,
it says they’re astrologers, wise men, priests from somewhere outside the Roman
Empire. That’s all we’re really told so, yes, ‘the three kings with the one
from Africa’ – that’s legend; it works quite well as legend.

In other words, he only called the idea that there were
three kings from Africa and one of them was black a legend. He untied tradition
from the biblical account. He never denied Matthew’s Gospel.

Why talk about that tonight? Especially when the reading we
have heard is not about the Magi but the birth in Bethlehem and the visit of
the shepherds? Because I want to do something similar. Rowan Williams was disentangling
‘Christmas card Christmas’ from biblical Christmas. I want to take the account
from Luke 2 and suggest to you that we have read it wrongly for centuries. I
want to offer some different understandings of the story that might help us
engage with what was in Luke’s mind in writing his account of the Nativity.
What is this story really about, and what might it mean for us?

1. Protection
I think there’s a case for arguing that the trip to Bethlehem is about Joseph
protecting Mary. That may seem odd – how is taking your heavily pregnant
fiancée from Nazareth in the north of Palestine to Bethlehem in the south
protective?

I think it goes something like this. The census is the
issue. Most of our translations say it happened ‘while Quirinius was governor of
Syria’ (verse 2). However, it’s just as possible to translate it, ‘before Quirinius was governor of Syria’.
Not only does this resolve some problems of chronology, it is a way of saying,
‘This wasn’t the big census you all know about. This was the head tax, where
every able-bodied person between the ages of 13 and 62 had to register for the
‘render unto Caesar’ payment.[1]

Now if that is the case, why go to Bethlehem? Luke tells us
Joseph went there, because of his family tree. But that doesn’t mean every Jew
travelled to their ancestral home. I think it means Joseph went to a place
where he knew there were supportive family members.

Why is that important? Mary is pregnant outside marriage. It
is a scandal. Joseph has chosen not to reject her, but to stand with her in her
rejection. He wants her away from those who would pick up stones or say nasty
things about her. So he takes her back to his roots, to Bethlehem.

Later, according to Matthew, Joseph will protect his wife
and the baby from Herod by taking them away from his murderous intentions into
Egypt until it is safe to return. Joseph is protective of his family.

There will be other times in Jesus’ life when he is
protected. He slips through the crowd in Nazareth that want to throw him off a
cliff after his sermon in the synagogue. Other times he thwarts the religious
leaders. But he will not always be protected. He will end up on a cross.

At this point, however, God uses Joseph to protect Mary and
Jesus. God is protecting his rescue mission. Whatever opposition comes to the
kingdom of God, one thing is sure: God is ensuring that no one and nothing
derails his big plans. The purposes of God are secure.

Now isn’t that something to rejoice in at Christmas? I
repeat: the purposes of God are secure. Discouragement or opposition can suck
the spiritual life out of us. But the Christmas story assures us that the
purposes of God are secure. He will ensure that his will is done. He has
determined to send his Son. Whatever human beings do, God will overrule. Human
beings have free will, but God has greater free will.

So be encouraged this Christmas. Things may go wrong in your
life, in the life of this congregation, and even in God’s wider Church. But
that does not mean hope has gone. As Joseph protected Mary from scandal, so God
protects his kingdom plans and his great story of love and salvation. This is
Christmas Good News.

2. Provision
This is where I really get controversial. Despite being the father of a
primary-school-age daughter, what I am about to say probably ruins most school
nativity plays. It also undermines some of our popular approaches to the
nativity in church. But I think we have misunderstood Luke for centuries.
Ready? Here goes:

And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in
bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them
in the inn. (Verse 7)

Suppose I said that the familiar words, ‘no room at the inn’
were wrong. A mistranslation, in fact. Luke doesn’t use the Greek word for an
inn here. He knows that word, because he uses it later in the Parable of the
Good Samaritan. But he doesn’t deploy it here. He uses the word for a ‘guest
room’.[2]

In other words, all those plays you see where Mary and
Joseph go desperately from one Bethlehem inn to another, being told they are
all fully booked for the census, are mistaken. They owe more to mediaeval or
later English translators who knew the tradition of the wayfaring inn. The idea
that there is no room in the world for the Messiah is not what Luke is saying
here.

In fact, it is unthinkable that in Middle Eastern culture,
the family would not find a place for Mary and Joseph. They simply cannot
squeeze into the guest room. However, homes often had a cave at the back where
they kept the animals. This is where family members put up the young couple. As
Ben Witherington puts it,

This is not a story about ‘no room in the inn’ or about the
world’s giving Jesus the cold shoulder. It’s a story about no inn in the room!
It’s a story about a family making do when more relatives than expected
suddenly show up on the doorstep. It’s a story most of us can relate to in one
way or another. Jesus was born in his relative’s home, in the place where they
kept the most precious of their animals. One can well imagine the smell in that
room, and probably the shock of the Magi when they saw where the King was born.

Here, then, in the privations of a peasant family, God makes
provision for the care and nurture of his Son. Not in the wealth of a TV
evangelist. Nor in the extravagance of a Western Christmas. In basic,
subsistence-level living, God provides for his Son. In that respect, ‘no room
in the guest room’ subverts our Christmas and our lifestyle.

And it’s about how the family always takes the trouble to
make room and offer hospitality, however difficult the circumstances. So it is
also a call for us as the family of God always to make room for Jesus and not
push him out. It is the reminder that we can always say ‘Yes’ to Jesus, even
when the pressure is on. He will always accept our ‘Yes’ to him. There is
always space for him, even when we are stressed. In fact, in those
circumstances, he is perhaps at his most gentle and kind.

3. Privilege
I mentioned in the village carol service that society disdained the shepherds. They
were welcome to provide lambs for temple sacrifices, but the authorities
regarded them as ‘unclean’, and popular opinion viewed them as being like
common criminals. Yet they receive an angelic visitation. These people first
hear about the birth of Messiah. Not the religious leaders, not the
politicians, not the tastemakers and opinion-shapers. Despised shepherds. Theirs
is the privilege.

But it’s not the only way in which ordinary human
understandings of privilege are turned upside-down (or right side up?) in the
story. Privilege comes not in society honouring someone. It comes in the
shepherds responding to the announcement and visiting Jesus. It comes in them
telling everybody what the angels had told them – theirs is the privilege of
witness. It comes not in social recognition but in Mary treasuring the words of
the shepherds and pondering them in her heart. It becomes a privilege to praise
and glorify God for what he has done (and continues to do) in Christ.

So the Christmas story would have us ask the question, where
and why do we seek acclaim? Are we desperate to have other people like us? Do we
want social recognition? Would honour, promotion or a high public profile make
us happy? If so, there is a part of us that has not yet been converted to the
Gospel.

For the Gospel puts privilege, recognition and status in
radically different terms. Privilege comes in the call of God that has nothing
to do with social standing. God bases his call entirely upon grace towards
sinners, not the warped idea that he somehow owes us a favour. Privilege comes
in being a child of God, not by gaining what impresses the world. Privilege is
found in being a witness, telling the world what we have seen, heard and experienced
of Jesus. Privilege is expressed in treasuring the word and works of God,
especially as we see that work in others. Privilege is not in receiving
accolades, but in giving and serving. It is not in buffing up our image, but in
the worship of a God who has done his most revolutionary work in a weak,
vulnerable baby.

Conclusion
It’s not just, then, about turning upside down some traditional understandings
of this story. The Nativity Story itself upends so many of our values. The Church
may be in trouble in the West and some may have written her off, but God always
protects his ultimate purposes in Christ. There may have been no room in the
guest room rather than the inn, but that means Jesus can always find space in
our lives, even when we are at our most hassled. Finally, the Incarnation
entirely redefines privilege: rather than what we can gain for ourselves, real
privilege in Jesus terms is in what we can offer, give and serve.

In short, Christmas is a time for revolution: the revolution
of God’s kingdom as brought by Jesus. Here is where we sign up.

Technorati Tags: ArchbishopOfCanterbury, BBCFiveLive, SimonMayo, DailyTelegraph, magi, incarnation, RowanWilliams, BenWitherington, KennethBailey, DickFrance, RTFrance, shepherds, Joseph, Mary, Jesus, ColinChapman

Luke 2:1-20

Introduction
The Archbishop of Canterbury got in trouble the other day in the press. Nothing
new in that, you might think. Perhaps you saw the story. He gave a radio
interview on BBC Five Live to Simon Mayo. Newspapers
screamed that he had denied
the Nativity Story, calling the ‘three wise men’ a ‘legend’. The poor man
hadn’t denied the biblical story at all, as even the Daily Telegraph’s website
admits, by publishing
the transcript. Mayo asked him,

And the wise men with the gold, frankincense, and Myrrh –
with one of the wise men normally being black and the other two being white,
for some reason?

Williams replied,

Well Matthew’s gospel doesn’t tell us that there were three
of them, doesn’t tell us they were kings, doesn’t tell us where they came from,
it says they’re astrologers, wise men, priests from somewhere outside the Roman
Empire. That’s all we’re really told so, yes, ‘the three kings with the one
from Africa’ – that’s legend; it works quite well as legend.

In other words, he only called the idea that there were
three kings from Africa and one of them was black a legend. He untied tradition
from the biblical account. He never denied Matthew’s Gospel.

Why talk about that tonight? Especially when the reading we
have heard is not about the Magi but the birth in Bethlehem and the visit of
the shepherds? Because I want to do something similar. Rowan Williams was disentangling
‘Christmas card Christmas’ from biblical Christmas. I want to take the account
from Luke 2 and suggest to you that we have read it wrongly for centuries. I
want to offer some different understandings of the story that might help us
engage with what was in Luke’s mind in writing his account of the Nativity.
What is this story really about, and what might it mean for us?

1. Protection
I think there’s a case for arguing that the trip to Bethlehem is about Joseph
protecting Mary. That may seem odd – how is taking your heavily pregnant
fiancée from Nazareth in the north of Palestine to Bethlehem in the south
protective?

I think it goes something like this. The census is the
issue. Most of our translations say it happened ‘while Quirinius was governor of
Syria’ (verse 2). However, it’s just as possible to translate it, ‘before Quirinius was governor of Syria’.
Not only does this resolve some problems of chronology, it is a way of saying,
‘This wasn’t the big census you all know about. This was the head tax, where
every able-bodied person between the ages of 13 and 62 had to register for the
‘render unto Caesar’ payment.[1]

Now if that is the case, why go to Bethlehem? Luke tells us
Joseph went there, because of his family tree. But that doesn’t mean every Jew
travelled to their ancestral home. I think it means Joseph went to a place
where he knew there were supportive family members.

Why is that important? Mary is pregnant outside marriage. It
is a scandal. Joseph has chosen not to reject her, but to stand with her in her
rejection. He wants her away from those who would pick up stones or say nasty
things about her. So he takes her back to his roots, to Bethlehem.

Later, according to Matthew, Joseph will protect his wife
and the baby from Herod by taking them away from his murderous intentions into
Egypt until it is safe to return. Joseph is protective of his family.

There will be other times in Jesus’ life when he is
protected. He slips through the crowd in Nazareth that want to throw him off a
cliff after his sermon in the synagogue. Other times he thwarts the religious
leaders. But he will not always be protected. He will end up on a cross.

At this point, however, God uses Joseph to protect Mary and
Jesus. God is protecting his rescue mission. Whatever opposition comes to the
kingdom of God, one thing is sure: God is ensuring that no one and nothing
derails his big plans. The purposes of God are secure.

Now isn’t that something to rejoice in at Christmas? I
repeat: the purposes of God are secure. Discouragement or opposition can suck
the spiritual life out of us. But the Christmas story assures us that the
purposes of God are secure. He will ensure that his will is done. He has
determined to send his Son. Whatever human beings do, God will overrule. Human
beings have free will, but God has greater free will.

So be encouraged this Christmas. Things may go wrong in your
life, in the life of this congregation, and even in God’s wider Church. But
that does not mean hope has gone. As Joseph protected Mary from scandal, so God
protects his kingdom plans and his great story of love and salvation. This is
Christmas Good News.

2. Provision
This is where I really get controversial. Despite being the father of a
primary-school-age daughter, what I am about to say probably ruins most school
nativity plays. It also undermines some of our popular approaches to the
nativity in church. But I think we have misunderstood Luke for centuries.
Ready? Here goes:

And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in
bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them
in the inn. (Verse 7)

Suppose I said that the familiar words, ‘no room at the inn’
were wrong. A mistranslation, in fact. Luke doesn’t use the Greek word for an
inn here. He knows that word, because he uses it later in the Parable of the
Good Samaritan. But he doesn’t deploy it here. He uses the word for a ‘guest
room’.[2]

In other words, all those plays you see where Mary and
Joseph go desperately from one Bethlehem inn to another, being told they are
all fully booked for the census, are mistaken. They owe more to mediaeval or
later English translators who knew the tradition of the wayfaring inn. The idea
that there is no room in the world for the Messiah is not what Luke is saying
here.

In fact, it is unthinkable that in Middle Eastern culture,
the family would not find a place for Mary and Joseph. They simply cannot
squeeze into the guest room. However, homes often had a cave at the back where
they kept the animals. This is where family members put up the young couple. As
Ben Witherington puts it,

This is not a story about ‘no room in the inn’ or about the
world’s giving Jesus the cold shoulder. It’s a story about no inn in the room!
It’s a story about a family making do when more relatives than expected
suddenly show up on the doorstep. It’s a story most of us can relate to in one
way or another. Jesus was born in his relative’s home, in the place where they
kept the most precious of their animals. One can well imagine the smell in that
room, and probably the shock of the Magi when they saw where the King was born.

Here, then, in the privations of a peasant family, God makes
provision for the care and nurture of his Son. Not in the wealth of a TV
evangelist. Nor in the extravagance of a Western Christmas. In basic,
subsistence-level living, God provides for his Son. In that respect, ‘no room
in the guest room’ subverts our Christmas and our lifestyle.

And it’s about how the family always takes the trouble to
make room and offer hospitality, however difficult the circumstances. So it is
also a call for us as the family of God always to make room for Jesus and not
push him out. It is the reminder that we can always say ‘Yes’ to Jesus, even
when the pressure is on. He will always accept our ‘Yes’ to him. There is
always space for him, even when we are stressed. In fact, in those
circumstances, he is perhaps at his most gentle and kind.

3. Privilege
I mentioned in the village carol service that society disdained the shepherds. They
were welcome to provide lambs for temple sacrifices, but the authorities
regarded them as ‘unclean’, and popular opinion viewed them as being like
common criminals. Yet they receive an angelic visitation. These people first
hear about the birth of Messiah. Not the religious leaders, not the
politicians, not the tastemakers and opinion-shapers. Despised shepherds. Theirs
is the privilege.

But it’s not the only way in which ordinary human
understandings of privilege are turned upside-down (or right side up?) in the
story. Privilege comes not in society honouring someone. It comes in the
shepherds responding to the announcement and visiting Jesus. It comes in them
telling everybody what the angels had told them – theirs is the privilege of
witness. It comes not in social recognition but in Mary treasuring the words of
the shepherds and pondering them in her heart. It becomes a privilege to praise
and glorify God for what he has done (and continues to do) in Christ.

So the Christmas story would have us ask the question, where
and why do we seek acclaim? Are we desperate to have other people like us? Do we
want social recognition? Would honour, promotion or a high public profile make
us happy? If so, there is a part of us that has not yet been converted to the
Gospel.

For the Gospel puts privilege, recognition and status in
radically different terms. Privilege comes in the call of God that has nothing
to do with social standing. God bases his call entirely upon grace towards
sinners, not the warped idea that he somehow owes us a favour. Privilege comes
in being a child of God, not by gaining what impresses the world. Privilege is
found in being a witness, telling the world what we have seen, heard and experienced
of Jesus. Privilege is expressed in treasuring the word and works of God,
especially as we see that work in others. Privilege is not in receiving
accolades, but in giving and serving. It is not in buffing up our image, but in
the worship of a God who has done his most revolutionary work in a weak,
vulnerable baby.

Conclusion
It’s not just, then, about turning upside down some traditional understandings
of this story. The Nativity Story itself upends so many of our values. The Church
may be in trouble in the West and some may have written her off, but God always
protects his ultimate purposes in Christ. There may have been no room in the
guest room rather than the inn, but that means Jesus can always find space in
our lives, even when we are at our most hassled. Finally, the Incarnation
entirely redefines privilege: rather than what we can gain for ourselves, real
privilege in Jesus terms is in what we can offer, give and serve.

In short, Christmas is a time for revolution: the revolution
of God’s kingdom as brought by Jesus. Here is where we sign up.

Technorati Tags: ArchbishopOfCanterbury, BBCFiveLive, SimonMayo, DailyTelegraph, magi, incarnation, RowanWilliams, BenWitherington, KennethBailey, DickFrance, RTFrance, shepherds, Joseph, Mary, Jesus, ColinChapman