Here is tomorrow’s sermon. The relevant Bible passage is here.

Introduction
On Friday we were in Lewes to bury my father-in-law’s ashes,
following his
death in February. It was an unusual service for me to take – the family
had asked me to dress informally. So it was the first time I have officiated in
a cemetery wearing a polo shirt, chinos and trainers.

After the ceremony we
decamped to his favourite pub for
lunch. Over lunch I was sitting with Debbie’s nephews. One of them,
sixteen-year-old Ashley, is not enjoying this summer. And it’s not the heat.
It’s the wait until 24^th August for his GCSE results. He hopes to go
on to A-Levels. He can’t yet think about whether he might get to university.
His mother is rather more sure of his abilities than he is. The results of his
testing will soon be with him. And with it the next stage of his life.

Likewise, one of the
things that scares me as a parent not of teenagers but small children is just
how young the testing starts, with SATs kicking in at age seven. Our children
are now the political footballs of power-hungry Government ministers. And they
will feel like they can never get away from being tested.

Testing, then, is my theme
this morning. It is a test for me, John’s account of the feeding of the five
thousand falling in this week’s Lectionary after I preached [an old sermon]
on Mark’s account last Sunday night!

But seriously, the testing
centres on Jesus. He tests the disciples, and the crowd implicitly tests him.
As we reflect on this story, I hope we can gain insight for some of the tests
and trials we undergo. And I hope we can also pay attention to some of the ways
we find ourselves testing Jesus – sometimes unwittingly.

1. Jesus Tests The Disciples
This is one of those
stories where the reader is in on the secret that some of the characters don’t
know. Jesus asks Philip,

‘Where
are we to buy bread for these people to eat?’
[verse 5]

Philip says that even six
months’ wages would not be enough money to pay for the amount of food needed
[verse 7] and Andrew says,

‘There
is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among
so many people?’
[verse 9]

Philip and Andrew feel
hopeless and helpless. But they don’t know the secret that John has let us in
on:

[Jesus]
said this to test [Philip], for he himself knew what he was going to do.
[verse 6]

Have you ever been in that
situation? Not, perhaps, having to feed five thousand men, plus women and
children with five barley loaves (the bread that the poorest of the poor ate)
and two fishes. But you may have felt that you were up against the impossible
and wondered what God was up to.

The most spectacular time
for me was in 1986 when I was about to leave work and study Theology. This was
before I offered for the ministry. In fact I thought God was calling me to
something and the last thing it could be was ordained ministry.

I accepted a place at Trinity College, Bristol. This being
the days before student loans, I applied for a grant. On the day before I was
due to leave for a summer holiday I learned that I had been turned down. I
authorised my parents to make an appeal in my absence and to contact other
people for help. I told the college my predicament. They said, “We need you to
guarantee us the first year’s fees,” and set me a deadline in August.

Two days before that
deadline was due to expire, I got the result of my appeal. I had been turned
down. Forty-eight hours to go and no money – apart from my savings, and they
weren’t enough.

It was at this point that
I discovered, like Philip, Andrew and the others in today’s reading that Jesus
‘knew what he was going to do’ all along. My parents discovered a savings
account they had forgotten about and gave me the money. A student who had taken
a year out before college to earn money for a car gave that money to me
instead. Her boyfriend sent me some money, not knowing my situation. Two
elderly ladies in my home church gave me sizeable donations. One wrote in a
letter, “It seems that God has called you to trust him to supply your needs. He
will meet ours too.” Those words told me what a sacrifice her giving was.

These and other gifts came
in. By deadline day I had three quarters of the funds I needed. I rang the
college Vice-Principal and he agreed I could come. He promised help with
applying to charitable trusts when I arrived. However these proved to be trusts
that my parents had approached and I did not fit the criteria for any of them.

However God had other
ideas, anyway. A week or two later I was preaching one evening at another
church in my home circuit. Due to my experiences I decided to preach on ‘Give
us this day our daily bread’. In the sermon I simply recounted that God had
provided all I needed. I did not say that I was still short.

After the service a friend
invited me back to his flat for a coffee. There he recounted a story. He had
been intending to take three-week holiday to New Zealand to visit his aunt, but
his aunt had died and he didn’t feel like going any more. However he had
already changed his pounds sterling into New Zealand dollars. But since
doing so the dollar had been devalued. He had held onto the money in the hope
that the dollar’s value would increase again. However it continued to fall on
the currency markets and his money was worth less and less. The money had become
an annoyance. Would I like to take this annoyance off his hands?

Before I could answer he
had left the living room, gone to his bedroom, and come back with some plastic Thomas Cook envelopes bulging with notes.
He threw them into my lap. To this day I can recall the exact amount: two
thousand, three hundred and ten New
Zealand dollars.

At the time my father was
working for NatWest and he got a staff
rate of exchange on the money. Again, I can remember the precise amount: seven
hundred and forty-two pounds, thirty-one pence. We calculated that my friend
had originally exchanged one thousand pounds for spending money. (And remember
this was twenty years ago.)

Later a friend at church
who was a Barclays Bank manager set up
a fund so that anyone who wanted to give towards my support could do so
anonymously. Since I was also turned down for a grant for my second year and
got just one third of a full grant for my third year, this giving – along with
some other gifts – bridged the gap.

As I said, that whole
story happened twenty years ago. I haven’t known anything quite so spectacular
in my own life since, although there have been some less dramatic examples of
the same truth. I was in a situation where I did not have what was needed. Yet
I was called to go to college. But Jesus knew what he was going to do.

So let me tell this story
as an encouragement and a challenge. Is there some similar situation in your
life? Might it be in our church’s life? Could it be in your family, or at work?
Something where you see a need – for yourself or others – and do not have the
wherewithal to meet it. Yet despite your lack God is not letting you off the
hook. It is time to press forward. Jesus knows what he is going to do.

2. The Crowd Tests Jesus
John tells us that ‘the
Passover, the festival of the Jews, was near’ [verse 4]. Is that just
incidental detail to the story? No. Colin Kruse explains:

‘Passover
was a time when Jewish people recalled their deliverance from Egypt through
Moses and were looking for the Prophet like him who was to come. They expected
the Prophet to bring deliverance and provide ‘manna’ from heaven as Moses had
done (cf. 2 Baruch 29:3 – 30:1). It
was a time when nationalistic fervour was high.’
[Colin Kruse, John, Tyndale New Testament Commentaries, p
161.]

Now imagine the crowd of
thousands watching Jesus feed them with just five barley loaves and two fish.
Why, here is the man. The ancient story of the manna has been handed down to
us. Now, look at what we are witnessing! This must be the prophet whom Moses
told us to wait for. And we too are in slavery. We might be living in our own
land but under these wretched Romans we might just as well be back in exile in Babylon or in slavery in Egypt. And he has performed this
sign at Passover, the feast of deliverance. What else could it mean?

Hence verse 14:

When
the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, ‘This is indeed
the prophet who is to come into the world.’

Their limited assumptions
then become a straitjacket, for then we read in verse 15,

When
Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him
king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.

It’s that detail: they
wanted to take him by force. Oh,
Jesus was ‘the Prophet’ all right. He was king, too. But force was the very
opposite value of Jesus’ kingship. His is a kingdom of peace and
reconciliation, a kingdom where deliverance is brought not through war but
suffering. So he resists and escapes the pressing of the crowd, at least
temporarily.

Of course we don’t
straitjacket Jesus, do we? We might not want to wage war like downtrodden Jews
in the first century AD, but we might want to express our faith in unduly
militant ways in our culture at times.

Or we might want to impose
other expectations upon Jesus. Prayer becomes less a request and more an order.
Or it becomes the application of a formula and we expect him to deliver.
Perhaps most worryingly we bring the consumerism of our society into the
spiritual life. We are the customers and we are always right.

Now many of you will
protest that generally we don’t do that to Jesus. We have learned over many
years of Christian experience not to be so juvenile. Maybe so. But it comes out
in other forms, not always directly at Jesus but often at his Body, the Church.
So when the Church of Jesus Christ doesn’t supply what I demand it does, I
write a letter of complaint and I may well take my spiritual business
elsewhere.

I am not denying that
there are times when it would be right to leave a church for another one. And I
am not saying that we should accept any old rubbish in church life, either. But
I am saying we have got the spiritual life entirely wrong when we have
converted it to a list of our own demands. If we think we have the right to
test Jesus then we have got the relationship upside-down. If he is Lord (and
that is the basic Christian confession) then it is not whether he meets our expectations, it is whether we meet his. Of course, we don’t meet his
expectations, and that is where we experience the miracle of grace.

All of which means we need
to be gracious ourselves. For believe me, I have lived with hurt and disappointment
in the Christian Church long enough. But there is no Plan B with Jesus. We are
the Church of Jesus Christ – Jesus who is Lord and who
owns the Church, not us. We are a company of sinners who have been found by
grace. It is not for us to do the testing but for Jesus to test us graciously
with five loaves and two fish for the crowd so that our faith in him may grow.

 

Technorati Tags: John+6:1-21, sermon, feeding+of=the+five+thousand

Here is tomorrow’s sermon. The relevant Bible passage is here.

Introduction
On Friday we were in Lewes to bury my father-in-law’s ashes,
following his
death in February. It was an unusual service for me to take – the family
had asked me to dress informally. So it was the first time I have officiated in
a cemetery wearing a polo shirt, chinos and trainers.

After the ceremony we
decamped to his favourite pub for
lunch. Over lunch I was sitting with Debbie’s nephews. One of them,
sixteen-year-old Ashley, is not enjoying this summer. And it’s not the heat.
It’s the wait until 24^th August for his GCSE results. He hopes to go
on to A-Levels. He can’t yet think about whether he might get to university.
His mother is rather more sure of his abilities than he is. The results of his
testing will soon be with him. And with it the next stage of his life.

Likewise, one of the
things that scares me as a parent not of teenagers but small children is just
how young the testing starts, with SATs kicking in at age seven. Our children
are now the political footballs of power-hungry Government ministers. And they
will feel like they can never get away from being tested.

Testing, then, is my theme
this morning. It is a test for me, John’s account of the feeding of the five
thousand falling in this week’s Lectionary after I preached [an old sermon]
on Mark’s account last Sunday night!

But seriously, the testing
centres on Jesus. He tests the disciples, and the crowd implicitly tests him.
As we reflect on this story, I hope we can gain insight for some of the tests
and trials we undergo. And I hope we can also pay attention to some of the ways
we find ourselves testing Jesus – sometimes unwittingly.

1. Jesus Tests The Disciples
This is one of those
stories where the reader is in on the secret that some of the characters don’t
know. Jesus asks Philip,

‘Where
are we to buy bread for these people to eat?’
[verse 5]

Philip says that even six
months’ wages would not be enough money to pay for the amount of food needed
[verse 7] and Andrew says,

‘There
is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among
so many people?’
[verse 9]

Philip and Andrew feel
hopeless and helpless. But they don’t know the secret that John has let us in
on:

[Jesus]
said this to test [Philip], for he himself knew what he was going to do.
[verse 6]

Have you ever been in that
situation? Not, perhaps, having to feed five thousand men, plus women and
children with five barley loaves (the bread that the poorest of the poor ate)
and two fishes. But you may have felt that you were up against the impossible
and wondered what God was up to.

The most spectacular time
for me was in 1986 when I was about to leave work and study Theology. This was
before I offered for the ministry. In fact I thought God was calling me to
something and the last thing it could be was ordained ministry.

I accepted a place at Trinity College, Bristol. This being
the days before student loans, I applied for a grant. On the day before I was
due to leave for a summer holiday I learned that I had been turned down. I
authorised my parents to make an appeal in my absence and to contact other
people for help. I told the college my predicament. They said, “We need you to
guarantee us the first year’s fees,” and set me a deadline in August.

Two days before that
deadline was due to expire, I got the result of my appeal. I had been turned
down. Forty-eight hours to go and no money – apart from my savings, and they
weren’t enough.

It was at this point that
I discovered, like Philip, Andrew and the others in today’s reading that Jesus
‘knew what he was going to do’ all along. My parents discovered a savings
account they had forgotten about and gave me the money. A student who had taken
a year out before college to earn money for a car gave that money to me
instead. Her boyfriend sent me some money, not knowing my situation. Two
elderly ladies in my home church gave me sizeable donations. One wrote in a
letter, “It seems that God has called you to trust him to supply your needs. He
will meet ours too.” Those words told me what a sacrifice her giving was.

These and other gifts came
in. By deadline day I had three quarters of the funds I needed. I rang the
college Vice-Principal and he agreed I could come. He promised help with
applying to charitable trusts when I arrived. However these proved to be trusts
that my parents had approached and I did not fit the criteria for any of them.

However God had other
ideas, anyway. A week or two later I was preaching one evening at another
church in my home circuit. Due to my experiences I decided to preach on ‘Give
us this day our daily bread’. In the sermon I simply recounted that God had
provided all I needed. I did not say that I was still short.

After the service a friend
invited me back to his flat for a coffee. There he recounted a story. He had
been intending to take three-week holiday to New Zealand to visit his aunt, but
his aunt had died and he didn’t feel like going any more. However he had
already changed his pounds sterling into New Zealand dollars. But since
doing so the dollar had been devalued. He had held onto the money in the hope
that the dollar’s value would increase again. However it continued to fall on
the currency markets and his money was worth less and less. The money had become
an annoyance. Would I like to take this annoyance off his hands?

Before I could answer he
had left the living room, gone to his bedroom, and come back with some plastic Thomas Cook envelopes bulging with notes.
He threw them into my lap. To this day I can recall the exact amount: two
thousand, three hundred and ten New
Zealand dollars.

At the time my father was
working for NatWest and he got a staff
rate of exchange on the money. Again, I can remember the precise amount: seven
hundred and forty-two pounds, thirty-one pence. We calculated that my friend
had originally exchanged one thousand pounds for spending money. (And remember
this was twenty years ago.)

Later a friend at church
who was a Barclays Bank manager set up
a fund so that anyone who wanted to give towards my support could do so
anonymously. Since I was also turned down for a grant for my second year and
got just one third of a full grant for my third year, this giving – along with
some other gifts – bridged the gap.

As I said, that whole
story happened twenty years ago. I haven’t known anything quite so spectacular
in my own life since, although there have been some less dramatic examples of
the same truth. I was in a situation where I did not have what was needed. Yet
I was called to go to college. But Jesus knew what he was going to do.

So let me tell this story
as an encouragement and a challenge. Is there some similar situation in your
life? Might it be in our church’s life? Could it be in your family, or at work?
Something where you see a need – for yourself or others – and do not have the
wherewithal to meet it. Yet despite your lack God is not letting you off the
hook. It is time to press forward. Jesus knows what he is going to do.

2. The Crowd Tests Jesus
John tells us that ‘the
Passover, the festival of the Jews, was near’ [verse 4]. Is that just
incidental detail to the story? No. Colin Kruse explains:

‘Passover
was a time when Jewish people recalled their deliverance from Egypt through
Moses and were looking for the Prophet like him who was to come. They expected
the Prophet to bring deliverance and provide ‘manna’ from heaven as Moses had
done (cf. 2 Baruch 29:3 – 30:1). It
was a time when nationalistic fervour was high.’
[Colin Kruse, John, Tyndale New Testament Commentaries, p
161.]

Now imagine the crowd of
thousands watching Jesus feed them with just five barley loaves and two fish.
Why, here is the man. The ancient story of the manna has been handed down to
us. Now, look at what we are witnessing! This must be the prophet whom Moses
told us to wait for. And we too are in slavery. We might be living in our own
land but under these wretched Romans we might just as well be back in exile in Babylon or in slavery in Egypt. And he has performed this
sign at Passover, the feast of deliverance. What else could it mean?

Hence verse 14:

When
the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, ‘This is indeed
the prophet who is to come into the world.’

Their limited assumptions
then become a straitjacket, for then we read in verse 15,

When
Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him
king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.

It’s that detail: they
wanted to take him by force. Oh,
Jesus was ‘the Prophet’ all right. He was king, too. But force was the very
opposite value of Jesus’ kingship. His is a kingdom of peace and
reconciliation, a kingdom where deliverance is brought not through war but
suffering. So he resists and escapes the pressing of the crowd, at least
temporarily.

Of course we don’t
straitjacket Jesus, do we? We might not want to wage war like downtrodden Jews
in the first century AD, but we might want to express our faith in unduly
militant ways in our culture at times.

Or we might want to impose
other expectations upon Jesus. Prayer becomes less a request and more an order.
Or it becomes the application of a formula and we expect him to deliver.
Perhaps most worryingly we bring the consumerism of our society into the
spiritual life. We are the customers and we are always right.

Now many of you will
protest that generally we don’t do that to Jesus. We have learned over many
years of Christian experience not to be so juvenile. Maybe so. But it comes out
in other forms, not always directly at Jesus but often at his Body, the Church.
So when the Church of Jesus Christ doesn’t supply what I demand it does, I
write a letter of complaint and I may well take my spiritual business
elsewhere.

I am not denying that
there are times when it would be right to leave a church for another one. And I
am not saying that we should accept any old rubbish in church life, either. But
I am saying we have got the spiritual life entirely wrong when we have
converted it to a list of our own demands. If we think we have the right to
test Jesus then we have got the relationship upside-down. If he is Lord (and
that is the basic Christian confession) then it is not whether he meets our expectations, it is whether we meet his. Of course, we don’t meet his
expectations, and that is where we experience the miracle of grace.

All of which means we need
to be gracious ourselves. For believe me, I have lived with hurt and disappointment
in the Christian Church long enough. But there is no Plan B with Jesus. We are
the Church of Jesus Christ – Jesus who is Lord and who
owns the Church, not us. We are a company of sinners who have been found by
grace. It is not for us to do the testing but for Jesus to test us graciously
with five loaves and two fish for the crowd so that our faith in him may grow.

 

Technorati Tags: John+6:1-21, sermon, feeding+of=the+five+thousand

Further to my piece last Wednesday and Sally’s helpful comment on it, I’ve made a visit this morning to the ‘Guy Harlings’ Resource Centre and picked up some useful material. For the mission and vision course, I think I’m going to adapt the Anglican Mission-Shaped Church report for a Methodist audience. And although I thought the Emmaus Course was too long, I’ve now discovered some short Bible study courses they produce that could be just the ticket. I picked up David Day’s volume on Colossians, Christ Our Life. I’m going to pass that around and see what people think about it.

Having said that, I was particularly grateful for Sally’s reminder about the Beta Course. Last autumn I attended a theological lecture that should have been given by its author, Sara Savage, on her research into Generation Y (now published). (I say ‘should have’, because she was ill and had to email her lecture notes for someone else to give in her place.) At the time I picked up a leaflet about Beta. I can certainly envisage circumstances when I would use it, and having witnessed or learned about one or two personality clashes at church yesterday, I can well see its value! I think that especially with the cost of it I’d probably want to use it not simply in one small group but across a church, though.

Technorati Tags: mission+shaped+church, Emmaus+Course, Beta+Course, Sara+Savage

My main church, like a lot of British Methodist churches, has recently been studying the Time To Talk Of God book, which arose out of a report to Methodist Conference. The need for the book is itself a tragedy: it stems from the findings of The Church Life Census in British churches about three or four years ago, which examined the relative strengths and weaknesses of different Christian traditions. Although Methodists show well on all matters social and in our appreciation of the sacraments we are among those who find it hardest to speak about our faith. Thus the report – and, unusually, one that was widely welcomed across the theological spectrum.

When I first read the book, I must admit it seemed to have very little substance at all. I wondered what on earth the fuss was about. And more so when it was quickly apparent that the book had extremely limited aims: it only aimed to get Methodists talking with one another. But the fact that we have problems even with that is a further sign of the tragedy.

Nevertheless this apparently slight book was the key that unlocked some deep-seated feelings and some highly important observations about personal and corporate Christian life in our congregation. In this post I am sharing some of these in very general terms, and with the permission of the groups.

One joy for me was that although we had not even a third of the congregation in the groups, there has been a groundswell in favour of setting up small groups in the church as a result. When I saw the church profile before considering the appointment this appeared to be a gaping hole. The reasons for seeking the establishment  of more permanent groups amount to a collective cri de coeur, though. People needed a safe space in which to air their deepest questions about life and faith, and it seemed to them that no such sanctuary had existed before. It was not possible to have substantial conversations after Sunday worship – and maybe it was not desirable: another place and time was needed. Others felt that Sunday worship made little contact with the real world: the common Methodist practice of preaching from the Lectionary led to sermons that did not prepare people to engage in conversation with friends on the pressing ethical issues of the day, such as bioethics or environmental issues. Some would explicitly like to tie together small group material and the themes of Sunday preaching. Still others commented that they had not had any courses for mature Christian disciples during their journey of faith. The church membership classes and the like were the last courses some had done. Even for me to speak about some basic Christian spiritual disciplines such as fasting or solitude was new territory. And perhaps the most disturbing comment of all: how has the church made Jesus so boring?

So we have some challenges! But good challenges. I have the rest of the summer to start coming up with some suitable material! One constraint seems to be about the amount of reading that might be done as part of a course. Despite being located in an area that attracts professional, highly educated people there has been a nervousness in some quarters to studying a book such as Richard Foster‘s Celebration Of Discipline, because the chapters were about twenty pages in length. We need something more concise. (And the same reason rules out the Emmaus Course.) I have heard mixed reports of Rick Warren‘s The Purpose Driven Life: reviews I’ve read seem polarised. Either it’s adored or decried. The CPAS course Lost For Words would take us to the next step of talking about our faith with those who don’t presently share it. Nor do people want the kind of Bible study that is merely academic and enforces the division between church and reality rather than bridging it.

And those are just the immediate resources that occur to me. So, dear blog readers, what would you recommend? I am all eyes to read your thoughts.

Technorati Tags: Time+To+Talk+Of+God, Methodist, Richard+Foster, Celebration+Of+Discipline, Emmaus+Course, Rick+Warren, Purpose+Driven+Life, CPAS, Lost+For+Words, discipleship

Brilliant short article here on faith and consumerism. Briefly put, here are some of the highlights: if ‘consumption is a system of meaning’ (Baudrillard) then Christianity is seen as a brand, not a worldview. As a result, in the USA (and elsewhere, surely) Christians may simply transfer their consumption to Christian causes. American ministry is based on capitalism with pastors as the sales force and evangelism as the marketing strategy.

Technorati Tags: Christianity, consumerism, capitalism, ministry, Baudrillard

Last week I posted my Sunday sermon here as an emergency measure when I couldn’t upload it for a day or two to my other site, where I usually post them. Since a couple of you here appreciated it, I thought that at least for this week I’d again post it here.

To view the Bible
passage in a separate window, click
here.
 

Introduction
You’ve probably heard the famous story about the preacher
giving a children’s address.

“What’s brown, furry and climbs trees?” he asks the
children.

A little girl nervously raises her hand. “Please, I know the
answer should be Jesus but it sounds like a squirrel to me.”

How easy it is to get the wrong end of the stick.

So who is our passage about? Is it about Herod? John the Baptist?
Salome? Herodias?

I’m going to suggest that in the words of the little girl,
‘the answer should be Jesus’. The whole of Mark’s Gospel has Jesus as his
subject. The very first verse of the Gospel says it is the beginning of the
Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Even in this story, where the apparent
focus is upon the scandalous murder of his cousin John, Jesus is the theme.

1. Kingship
There’s a very revealing description of Herod in verse 14.
Coming after the positive response to the ministry of Jesus and the Twelve in
the Galilean villages, Mark says,

‘King Herod heard of it.’

So what? King
Herod, that’s what. This is Herod Antipas, one of the sons of Herod the Great,
who tried to murder the infant Jesus. And he is not a king. He is a local ruler
for Galilee and Perea appointed by the Romans.
He wanted the title ‘king’ and had even modelled his court after the imperial
pattern. But the Emperor Augustus denied him the title, and dismissed him from
office in AD 39, sending him into exile, for the cheek of asking. [William
L Lane, The Gospel According To Mark, p 211.]

Mark, I believe, is not lacking information when he calls
Herod ‘king’. He knows only too well that Herod had pretensions to kingship.
Mark is writing about twenty-five years after Herod’s dismissal from office by
Augustus.

And Mark’s readers know this, too. Mark almost certainly
wrote his Gospel to Christians in Rome
who were suffering persecution under the Emperor Nero. They know Herod was not
granted the title of king, too.

So Mark is using the title ‘king’ for Herod in an ironic, if
not satirical way. Here is a man who had pretensions to kingship. He gathered a
court. He liked power, titles and respect. But he wasn’t a king.

And more to the point, Herod was hearing about the one who
was truly king, Jesus, and who showed a radically different way to be king.
Here is one who gathers no court of snivelling admirers and grovellers for
favours. He has a motley crew of twelve men from dubious backgrounds and with
flaky characters. And he’s going to start a revolution with them.

And here is a king who doesn’t need to plead for the title,
because he knows who he is. He knows he is ‘Lord’ and yet he doesn’t ‘lord it
over others’. He comes not to be served but to serve. He makes a nonsense of
conventional airs and graces when he takes a towel and washes his followers’
feet.

Now where does that leave us? It leaves us in what one
writer called ‘The
Upside-Down Kingdom’. Wherever we are in the world, we are called to
reflect this. Following the model of Jesus our king, it will affect how we
work. Not for the Christian the model of creeping to those above us in the
hierarchy and trampling on those below us.

It affects the way we do church. I wear a dog-collar on
Sundays out of concession to those who would be offended if I didn’t, but to be
honest, I don’t believe in it. Dressing differently makes me look superior, and
I’m not. It’s a worldly way of thinking, whereas under the reign of Jesus you
don’t become important by having a title, qualifications or position. You are
important because you are human and because Christ died for you.

It affects the way we treat anyone. Other people are not
commodities. They are not resources. They are people to be served in the name
of Jesus our king. Understanding the kingship of Jesus leaves us not with a
superiority complex that we are in on secret truth but with a question about
who I can serve in his name.

2. Knowing Jesus
What were people saying about Jesus? Everybody had an
opinion:

Some were saying, ‘John the baptizer
has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in
him.’ But others said, ‘It is Elijah.’ And others said, ‘It is a prophet, like
one of the prophets of old.’
[verses 14b-15]

What strikes me in these comments is how little they knew
Jesus. If anyone thought that Jesus was John the Baptist back from the dead
they could not have known anything about either of them, ‘since they did not
know that Jesus was a contemporary of John and had been baptized by him’ [Lane,
p212]. If they thought Jesus was Elijah, then it sounds like they knew John’s
preaching but not Jesus’ – you could read that into John’s message but Jesus
clearly said John was the new Elijah. And the suggestion that Jesus is one of
the prophets of old is a similar idea.

The long and the short of it is that they had very little
appreciation of who Jesus was. Jesus’ own followers struggled to identify him,
too. And even when they got it right, with Simon Peter recognising him as the
Christ, it was immediately bungled by the denial that the Christ should suffer.
Remember that earned one of ‘gentle Jesus, meek and mild’s least pastorally
sensitive responses: “Get behind me, Satan”.

And lack of knowledge about Jesus is a contemporary theme.
Many of us are aware how little our friends outside church circles know about
him. Some might have an understanding of his centrality to Christmas, but it is
surprising to realise how few know that Jesus is central to Easter. There are
those who believe that John the Baptist baptised Jesus in the River Thames, and
so on.

For all these reasons and more, our forthcoming Holiday Club
next month presents us with an opportunity to share more of Jesus with young
hearts and minds. The relationships we build and the epilogues we prepare for
the weekly Craft Club are part of the same picture. So too is the wider
involvement of the Christian Church in education, and I shall be taking
assemblies at Little Waltham Primary School once a month from September.

But we also need to examine ourselves. It can be shocking to
recognise how little we know, and our Time
To Talk Of God course has shown that although most of us have been
Christians for many years there are many basic things we know little about –
some key Christian doctrines, some basic Christian disciplines and our general
biblical knowledge, to mention but three.

So when we read biblical stories like today’s and encounter
people who had a defective view of Jesus, and when we meet people in our
society who also know little about him, we need to be very careful about our
own reactions. Yes, we need to be positive in finding ways to help people not
only know more about Jesus but also to know him. But again we have to guard
ourselves against a reaction that comes out of a superiority complex. If those
of us who claim to be his present-day disciples know very little about him and
his ways then there is a clear call to apply ourselves.

In fact it may well mean that we need to reorder things in
our personal life and in our church life. If our current priorities are not
leading to a deeper knowledge of Jesus and practical response in our lives to
that knowledge, then some things need to change. We may need to make hard
decisions about priorities. We may even need to choose between priorities.

What we certainly need to do is put an urgent premium on
developing small groups where we can get to grips with some of these issues. We
can learn more about our faith, ask the difficult questions and cajole one
another into spiritual growth. It’s not simply about learning a collection of
facts that would enable us to be Mastermind
contestants, specialising in Christianity. It’s about the practical application
of our faith – loving God with heart, soul, mind and strength – seeing such
small groups as another way to act out our Christian service in the world.

3. Guilt
How does ‘King’ Herod react? ‘[W]ith an uneasy conscience
disposed to superstition, [he] feared that John had come back to haunt him.’
[Lane, p 213]

But when Herod heard of it, he said,
‘John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.’
[verse 16]

It’s amazing what a meeting of guilt with Jesus will do.
Herod is petrified. And in the rest of the story we get Mark’s account of just
why Herod has a guilty conscience. He has entered into an adulterous and
scandalous marriage to his brother’s wife, which John has rightly condemned. He
has presided over an undoubtedly debauched banquet at which his step-daughter has
pleased a crowd of dirty old men by dancing lasciviously. He has made a rash
vow that his angry wife has manipulated and which ends up with John’s
execution. Is that enough guilt?

And so Mark has given us a detailed account of John’s murder
by the authorities. He will later do the same in greater detail about Jesus
himself. It is not without cause that Mark’s Gospel has been called ‘a passion
narrative with a long introduction’. In our story today we get John the
Baptist’s passion as a precursor to Jesus’ passion. This is what guilt does: it
kills God’s messenger.

John is executed, Jesus will be. It looks like the triumph
of injustice and the failure of God’s kingdom. But, as Brian McLaren puts it in
his latest book,

What if the only way for the kingdom of God to come in its true form – as a
kingdom “not of this world” – is through weakness and vulnerability, sacrifice
and love? What if it can conquer only by first being conquered? What if being
conquered is absolutely necessary to expose the brutal violence and dark
oppression of these principalities and powers, these human ideologies and
counterkingdoms – so that they, having been exposed, can be seen for what they
are and freely rejected, making room for the new and better kingdom? What if
the kingdom of God must in these ways fail in order to succeed?
[Brian McLaren, The Secret Message Of
Jesus, p 69f.]

And only this – what the apostle Paul called ‘the
foolishness of the Cross’ – will deal with the guilt that persecutes and kills
God’s messengers and God’s Son. Our high and holy calling is not to proclaim
pop psychology with a religious veneer or a slice of self-help thinly spread
with God, however much the Gospel does wonders for human self-esteem. Nor is it
our rôle to baptise our favourite political creed whether of left or right and
claim that it will bring in the kingdom, however vital the message of social
justice is. Our duty and purpose is to present a cross-shaped message.

And within that comes a calling to live a cross-shaped life.
Ours too will be the call to say uncomfortable things to the movers and shakers
of our society, and they may no more like it than Herod Antipas and Herodias
did. The signs are there: to take but one recent example, little over a week
ago a Christian discipleship course in Dartmoor Prison was closed
because it offended against ‘diversity policies’. What was wrong with it?
Firstly, it taught the sanctity of marriage and that was deemed to be
homophobic. Secondly, it was not multi-faith but explicitly Christian.

Like John’s disciples we may have bodies to bury – I pray
not literally but institutions, assumptions and ways of doing things may be
buried as constraints tighten and opposition increases. Nevertheless we need to
persevere with the call to serve as our King himself did, to learn more of him
and put it into practice – which will doubtless mean a call to that self-same
service and proclaiming the Cross in word and deed even in the face of
opposition.

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