Video worship – The Baptism Of Jesus As His Ordination And Ours

Here’s the video for this week’s devotions. A text version of the talk is below.

Mark 1:4-11

My ordination service was memorable for all the wrong reasons. For one thing, I never experienced the spiritual exhilaration that others report, only a sense that at last I was no longer under suspicion from the church authorities.

For another, my sister and brother-in-law weren’t there. They had been invited, they had booked into an hôtel, and they had ordered a buffet there afterwards for a family celebration. But there was no sign of them.

You have to understand that this was in a time when few people had mobile phones. So my father went outside to look for them. When they didn’t arrive for the service, we decided afterwards to find a phone box. Then we discovered that they had been to a wedding the day before, and my sister had suffered a fish bone getting stuck in her throat at the wedding breakfast. They had tried to get a message to me, but it hadn’t got through.

I have often viewed the baptism of Jesus as his ordination service. Here is the public confirmation and commissioning of the ministry to which he had been called since before the beginning of human history.

And like our ordination services, the place of the Holy Spirit is significant here. At an ordination, we often sing the ancient hymn ‘Veni Sancte Spiritus’ (‘Come, Holy Spirit’) and we lay hands on the ordinands, praying that the Holy Spirit will equip them for their calling.

So in this talk, I want to reflect on what the descent of the Holy Spirit on Jesus tells us about the public ministry he is about to begin.

10 Just as Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. 11 And a voice came from heaven: ‘You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.’

These words are loaded with scriptural resonances from elsewhere, and when we realise that their significance for the ministry of Jesus will become apparent.

Firstly, Jesus ‘saw heaven being torn open’ (verse 10).

When heaven is opened in the Scriptures, it usually means God is about to reveal his glory and his will. Ezekiel’s inaugural vision that makes him a prophet begins when ‘the heavens were opened and [he] saw visions of God’[i]. Stephen the martyr, on trial for his life and facing stoning, saw ‘heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.’[ii] The revelation Simon Peter receives to mix with Gentiles and ultimately proclaim the Gospel to them begins in a trance when he sees ‘heaven opened’[iii]. There are at least eight examples in the Book of Revelation itself[iv]. And so on.

Therefore in this incident the Father is telling Jesus that something important is about to be communicated.

We may think that such spiritual experiences are rare, unusual, or even non-existent for us. However, there are occasional times when we are conscious that the presence of God is close or even virtually tangible. It does not feel like the sky has a ceiling and our prayers bounce back down to us without reaching heaven. We have those times when we know the lines of communication are clear.

If we do, then this passage tells us to pay attention. God may be opening heaven to say something important to us, or to do something important with us.

I wonder whether we stand to attention at such times?

Secondly, Jesus saw ‘the Spirit descending on him’ (verse 10). This has echoes of the creation story in Genesis 1, where ‘the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters’[v] before the six days of creation begin.

So here too God is about to begin a work of creation. Except creation already exists! With Jesus he begins the work of the new creation. Through Jesus all things will be made new.

This shows us that Jesus is way bigger and more important than the ways in which we often treat him. For all our confessions of him as Son of God and Saviour, there are too many times when we treat Jesus as if he were someone who helps us to improve our lives, or who mentors us in good ways of living. We treat life with Jesus as some kind of deluxe addition to life.

But that is not why Jesus came, it is not why he ministered, and he will not have it. Jesus came that we might say goodbye to all that is old, decaying, and twisted due to sin and instead to welcome in a world where not only are we individually made new in our lives, but that all creation will be made new. Even our bodies will be made new at the Resurrection.

Following Jesus is not like buying a new car, where we look at the specifications and say, I’ll add on some extra features, like a parking camera to help my reversing, and a heated driver’s seat to keep me comfortable.

No: the ministry of Jesus is one where our old life is put in the grave and we are raised to a completely new life. It is one where we look forward to the old world going and living in the new heavens and new earth.

To welcome Jesus into our lives, then, requires that we are willing to sing the words to the old chorus ‘Spirit of the living God’: ‘Break me, melt me, mould me, fill me.’ When we allow him to do that in our lives, he will make us new and make his world new.

Thirdly, Jesus saw ‘the Spirit descending on him like a dove’ (verse 10, italics mine).

That the Spirit descends like a dove takes our last thought further. The most obvious biblical precedent here is of Noah using a dove to find out whether the flood waters had receded[vi].

This is an indication, then, that as Jesus comes to make his new creation, he does so as One who rolls back the damage of the past, and who shows that the judgment of God no longer pertains to all who own the name of Christ. Yes, ‘Break me, melt me, mould me, fill me’ can be challenging, disconcerting, and disturbing, but Jesus also comes as the gentle One who restores where we have been broken by the actions of others and who tells us that no longer have to live under our past, because through him God has offered us forgiveness.

If you are already broken, let Jesus put you back together in a new and beautiful way. Maybe you think that the brokenness will still show. Maybe in this life it will, but don’t let that daunt you. After all, the risen Jesus showed his scars to the disciples.

Think if you will about the Japanese art of kintsugi. This is the practice of putting broken pottery pieces back together with gold. Even the flaws and imperfections are beautified, to make a more attractive piece of art. See that as a picture of what Jesus wants to do in your life. Why not invite him to do his work of restoration in you?

Fourthly and finally, verse 11:

And a voice came from heaven: ‘You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.’

The first thing that has always struck me here is that the Father proclaims his delight in his Son before he has even begun his ministry. It is a powerful statement of unconditional love.

But if we want to dig into the biblical background here, then the obvious stopping-off point is the so-called Servant Songs in the Book of Isaiah, especially the first of those songs[vii]. It begins with the words,

‘Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
    my chosen one in whom I delight;
I will put my Spirit on him,
    and he will bring justice to the nations.’ (Verse 1)

The main difference is that whereas in Isaiah the designation ‘servant’ is used, here in Mark it’s ‘Son’. We draw the conclusion that God’s own Son came as the Servant of the Lord. The Son of God is the Servant.

Later in Mark Jesus will tell his disciples that servanthood rather than status is what matters in the kingdom of God, and that even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many[viii].

But it’s established right here at the beginning of the Gospel that Jesus will carry out his ministry of salvation in the form of a servant. The Son of God will bring in the new creation and all heal the broken not in the way that many assume an Almighty God will do, with force and irresistible energy, but by treading the path of servanthood.

And so he comes to serve – not in the sense that he waits on our every indulgence but that he provides our every need and he knows that the only cure for the wounds of he world lies at the Cross.

When we receive that, he then enlists us to serve him by serving others that they may see through us the nature of God’s transforming love. That is what Jesus is ordained to do. This is what all his followers, reverends or otherwise, are all ordained to do as well.

[i] Ezekiel 1:1

[ii] Acts 7:56

[iii] Acts 10:11

[iv] Revelation 4:1; 5:3; 8:1; 10:8; 11:19; 13:6; 15:5; 19:11.

[v] Genesis 1:2

[vi] Genesis 8:8-12

[vii] Isaiah 42:1-7

[viii] Mark 10:35-45

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Second Sunday of Christmas: The Mystery of the Incarnation (John 1:1-18)

Here’s this week’s video devotions, followed by the text of the talk.

Seasoned Methodists may wonder why this isn’t a Covenant Service on the first Sunday of the New Year. Both my churches are in Tier 4 and have chosen to close for gathered worship, and I’d rather keep the Covenant Service until we can renew our commitment to Christ face to face with each other. Besides, it’s a long and complex service, and these video devotions need to be shorter than the usual act of worship.

However, if you’d like a Covenant Service sermon, you can search this blog and find quite a few.

John 1:1-18

The Christmas decorations came down earlier in our house this year. The tree was in the place where Debbie had had her home office set up for working from home during the pandemic, so things had to be put back to normal sooner than usual.

Nevertheless, I still want to wish you Happy Christmas, because we’re still in the Christmas season, according to the rhythms of the Church. And of course, I also want to wish you Happy New Year – a happier year than last year, I pray.

Our famous reading from John chapter 1 is known as the Prologue to John’s Gospel. Sometimes, when it is read at carol services or in the Christmas season, the reader will introduce it with words such as, ‘The mystery of the Incarnation.’

Of course, it’s about more than the Incarnation, but for these thoughts I’m going to pick out three themes that John relates here to the Incarnation.

Those themes are light, glory, and grace and truth (which are a pair that go together).

Firstly, light.

John talks about Jesus as being the light of all (verse 4) and the light in the darkness (verse 5) even before his birth. Then, after John the Baptist witnesses to the light (verses 6-8) Jesus the light comes into the world (verse 9) but he is neither recognised (verse 10) or received (verse 11) except by a few (verse 12), and they become children of God (verses 12-13).

Strange, isn’t it? The people that were walking in darkness had seen a great light and yet few recognised and received that light. For Israel, it was the darkness of occupation by Rome. But perhaps they didn’t receive the light because it came in a form they didn’t recognise or indeed want. They wanted the darkness dealt with in a different way.

We may battle with different forms of darkness, but the danger is the same for us. We have our fixed ideas about what God should do about the darkness and how. When he doesn’t deliver, then some people stop believing in him. But of course what they’ve done is find that their own picture of God is faulty.

For what Jesus shows us about the light is he hasn’t come just to banish darkness with a click of his fingers and the flick of a switch, but rather by walking into the depths of darkness and shining his light there. That’s what ties together the Incarnation and the Cross. It’s what his whole life is about.

I recently read an article entitled ‘4 Myths Christians Should Stop Believing About Depression’, written by a professional Christian counsellor who has herself suffered from depression. If ever something is an experience of darkness, depression is.

And one of the most telling statements in the piece for me was this sentence:

Depression has nothing to do with lack of faith, in fact, for me—it has been the catalyst for even deeper faith. Because some days, in the hardest moments, faith was the only thing I had.

Do you see? She found Jesus, the light, in her darkness. That’s where he was.

In 1983, fifteen years before the Good Friday Agreement, a book was published about Christian reconciliation work in the Troubles in Northern Ireland. It was called ‘The Darkness Where God Is’. That’s how Jesus is the light in the Incarnation. He comes to be light in the darkness.

So when we encounter darkness, let’s look for Jesus there.

Secondly, glory.

Just as Jesus brings the light of God in an unexpected way, so also he shows the glory of God in an unforeseen manner. Verse 14:

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

We see his glory through the fact that ‘The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.’

How would a Roman emperor have shown his glory? In the majesty of his court and the humiliation of his enemies.

How does the Son of God display his glory? Paradoxically, by leaving it all behind in heaven. He comes into a poor family and lives among the poor. ‘Emptied himself of all but love,’ as Charles Wesley put it.

Or as recorded in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus put it this way: ‘The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.’

That is the glory of God. Putting aside status to live humbly, serve, and give up his life for the salvation of the world.

Those who are impressed by shallow things and shiny trinkets will never see such glory and will miss their way to the kingdom of God. But for those who have eyes to see, this is God’s glory, the shining of his splendour.

How might the world see the glory of Jesus today, then? When his people decide that hob-nobbing with the rich and powerful is not the way to go, and choose instead to serve the poor, the last, and the least. As one Internet meme puts it:

Want to put Christ back into Christmas? Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, forgive the guilty, welcome the unwanted, care for the ill, love your enemies, and do unto others as you would have done unto you.

That was what Jesus came to do. That is how his glory was seen. It’s really quite straightforward for us to do the same. Isn’t it?

Thirdly and finally, grace and truth.

We just read that Jesus ‘came from the Father, full of grace and truth’ (verse 14). John goes on to tell us that in doing so, he brings ‘grace in place of grace already given’ (verse 16) and that whereas Moses brought the law, Jesus brought grace and truth (verse 17).

In the Old Testament, God is shown to be a God of grace, not least when he saves the Israelites from Egypt and Pharaoh. He then gives Israel his law to keep as a response to that grace and as a sign that they are the People of God. God continues to show grace to his people, even when their sin and rebellion require discipline and punishment. Jesus comes to bring grace on top of all this grace. He brings not only grace, but truth.

So the Incarnation of Jesus says this to us: just when you thought God could not be more gracious, he sends his Son to show grace in person. Now his grace saves us not simply from other people’s wickedness but from ourselves, for our sins would have cut us off from God eternally. It’s a grace that goes all the way from the manger to the Cross.

John is telling us that Jesus was born into this world on a mission of mercy. It is those who recognise their need of mercy who find fulness of life and a place in his family. Those who consider themselves good, decent, upright, upstanding members of society will never see Jesus for who he is. Only those like the publican in the Temple staying at a distance praying, ‘Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner’ understand the Christmas story.

And if we are to live the Christmas story ourselves today, we need to be people who speak about God’s grace and who demonstrate God’s grace. Who needs to hear about a God of grace and mercy? Who will only understand that if his people today show grace and mercy in their actions?

Can we think of one person who would be set free from their personal prison if they knew about a God of grace?

Can we think of one person to whom we need to show grace and mercy?

To conclude, the revelation of Jesus as bringing light, glory, grace and truth at the Incarnation is wonderful, but it is also challenging, because there are implications for us.

The Christmas story encourages us to find the light of Christ in the midst of our darkness.

The Christmas story challenges us to show the glory of Christ not in conquest and arrogance but in humble service.

And the Christmas story calls us to embrace the message of grace for ourselves and spread it by speaking of grace to others and showing grace to those who need it.

The Christmas season may be about to end, but there is no reason for its message to fade away.

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Christmas Day Morning Service

COVID-19 and Tier 4 (UK readers will understand) mean no gathering in our buildings on Christmas Day, so I have put together a video service as a substitute.

Thanks go to many groups who have made their material available for free at this time, including Engage Worship, the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity, and the Trustees for Methodist Church Purposes.

A very Happy Christmas to you all, even in our current straitened circumstances.

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Worship in the Waiting 4: Awe-struck anticipation, The Magnificat (Video devotions and text of sermon)

It’s the last in the Advent series. Here’s the YouTube of the entire devotions and below you’ll find a text version of the message.

Luke 1:39-56

You will know how many of the Christmas carols have alternative words. As a child, I always found it amusing to sing

While shepherds washed their socks by night
They watched the BBC.
The angel of the Lord came down
And switched to ITV.

Then there’s the Basque Carol, with its poetic narrative of Mary and the Annunciation, every last line being ‘Most highly favoured lady’ but sung by many as ‘Most highly flavoured gravy.’

And it’s that carol which builds on an image of Mary that our reading today of her great song, the Magnificat, challenges. We sing,

Then gentle Mary meekly bowed her head

It feeds into this popular image of Mary as a sweet, demure teenage girl.

Sure, she accepts the will of God, but Mary is no passive believer who finds it easy to trust God. Before she gets to that stage, she questions the angel, just as Zechariah did when the angel told him that his wife Elizabeth would fall pregnant at an advanced age.

And here, when Mary rushes off to see her cousin Elizabeth and sings her song, we get feisty Mary. We get Mary the Revolutionary. We get Mary who sings of the radical kingdom her Son will bring in.

So on this Fourth Sunday in Advent, when we celebrate the obedient faith of Mary, let’s join with her in celebrating the world-changing nature of the coming baby and his coming kingdom.

Various writers from William Barclay onwards have talked about the Magnificat as a moral revolution, a social revolution, and an economic revolution. I’m going to follow them.

Firstly, a moral revolution. Mary consistently extols the humble in her song. ‘He has been mindful of the humble state of his servant’ (verse 48) and ‘he … has lifted up the humble’ (verse 52).

Now while ‘humble’ here may mean a humble social position, it also takes in those of a humble attitude and spirit. In doing this, Jesus reverses the values of his day and the values of our world. It is not the proud, look-at-me-and-see-how-amazing-I-am types that are exalted in his kingdom, but the humble.

Perhaps we shall see this mostly clearly in Jesus’ adult life when James and John squabble to have the seats either side of him in his kingdom. It becomes the time when Jesus teaches that servanthood is the sign of greatness.

Jesus comes to bring in a kingdom where it’s not all about me-me-me but about God and then others coming first. It’s the old saying that JOY stands for Jesus, then Others, then You.

How might we do that at Christmas? One (admittedly large) Baptist church in the United States has a campaign every year at this time called ‘Giving to Christ at Christmas’. Their senior pastor writes,

Over the years, the gifts given through Giving to Christ at Christmas have allowed [us] to help rebuild orphanages, supply relief to hurricane survivors in North and Central America, provide safe houses for girls rescued from human trafficking, and help the poor and needy in our city.

We express some of this through food banks and clothes banks. But not everyone can be involved in those and indeed the Knaphill clothes bank can’t operate at present in the pandemic.

So it’s worth all of us asking, how are we demonstrating Jesus’ moral revolution of humility by living for him and for others before ourselves?

Secondly, a social revolution. This rather follows from the moral revolution. It’s linked to it, because in verse 52 when God has lifted up the humble, it is preceded by saying that ‘He has brought down rulers from their thrones.’

In earlier generations this could be seen quite dramatically when a sermon in the pulpit of certain churches on Sunday could lead to a Government minister’s resignation on Monday. These days not even a thundering media campaign can dislodge some of our political leaders when their moral recklessness is exposed. Instead, we put them in Downing Street or the White House.

But kingdom power is still at work, because what we may not be able to change by public campaigning due to the declining influence of the church in society we can still alter by the power of prayer. When I see the wickedness of the Chinese government towards Christians, Uyghur Muslims, and the people of Hong Kong among others, I pray that God will put President Xi and his cronies on a slippery slope, as Psalm 73 says. The kingdom of God still rises up against social evil, it’s just that sometimes it does so in a subversive way.

And not only that, in dethroning rulers it correspondingly lifts up others.

A Christmas carol that has become increasingly popular in recent years is ‘O holy night’. I chose a version of it for our video carol service that was published on Friday, and was pleased to find one that contained this verse:

Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is Love and His gospel is Peace;
Chains shall he break, for the slave is our brother,
And in his name all oppression shall cease.

It’s French in origin, but when it was translated into English it became popular among American abolitionists. And even though the French poet who wrote the original words was an atheist and the American who translated it into English was a Unitarian, not a Christian, the words reflect the social revolution of the Magnificat. The early church understood this when it chose not necessarily to make its leaders solely from the educated, wealthy, and influential classes of society. Rather, some of the earliest bishops were slaves or former slaves.

Do we live out such a social revolution as Christians today?

Thirdly and finally, an economic revolution.

He has filled the hungry with good things
    but has sent the rich away empty. (Verse 53)

Two weeks ago, the BBC showed a piece about two ministers in Burnley, Pastor Mick and Father Alex, called Poverty and the Pandemic: Burnley’s Front Line.[i] There is an accompanying piece on the BBC website, entitled Burnley’s Pastor Mick – from dangerous drug dealer to lifesaver. It’s powerful, heart-breaking, and yet also uplifting coverage.

How so? Father Alex is the local Anglican priest, and Pastor Mick is from an organisation called Church On The Streets. He is a former drug dealer from a damaged background and a history of attempted murders, attempted suicide, and a wonderful conversion to Christ.

But in Burnley, a town of much deprivation, they have seen far worse damage from coronavirus than other places. As Pastor Mick tells the reporter,

“Politicians say that it’s a leveller, this coronavirus. It’s a lie, because if you’re poor you’ve got no chance.”

He and Father Alex pack boxes of food and other supplies for people, some of whom haven’t eaten at all. Mick takes volunteer NHS nurses with him to treat some medical conditions. He meets a woman with cancer who should have monthly blood tests but hasn’t had a test for six months due to the pandemic. Another woman confesses that her daughter has taken her own life. Others are short of basic household equipment, and Pastor Mick manages to find some for them. Another man is in debt to payday lenders, and over time Mick is helping him to get out of debt.

It is an utterly grim picture of life in Britain today. But it is uplifting, because here are Christians ‘filling the hungry with good things’. Pastor Mick says it is “the people of faith who are stepping in and making a massive difference”.

There is so much more I would like to relay to you of their stories, not least Pastor Mick’s account of meeting in adult life the man who began his descent into darkness through child sexual abuse.

But I’ll have to draw things to a conclusion here and just pose the question: this Advent, as we come so close to Christmas, are we being revolutionaries as Mary prophesied in the Magnificat? Are we part of a moral, social, and economic revolution in which God lifts up the poor and the humble and takes down the proud and the mighty?

Or are we just applying a religious veneer to our lives?

[i] The link takes you to the footage on iPlayer.

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Start Your Weekend With A Carol Service!

My two churches have combined to help produce a video carol service. In a year when the traditional gathering in the church building under candlelight was either impossible or impractical, various people offered to read the traditional lessons and be recorded on video.

Meanwhile, I downloaded some videos of carols from Engage Worship – their offer of these videos was really the genesis of the project. I added a humorous video from the Bible Society which has a timely word for this season of the world that we have been enduring.

So put aside sixty-seven minutes and twenty-one seconds, kick back, and enjoy these carols and the message this service brings.

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Video and Text Of Sermon: Third Sunday Of Advent, Hope-Filled Anticipation

Here’s the video of this week’s act of worship, followed by the text of the sermon.

Matthew 11:2-11

From time to time, I have told you little episodes from the bigger story of how God led me to an Anglican theological college in Bristol when I was exploring what my sense of calling was.

A significant part of that story concerns the fact that in those days we were still in the time of educational grants for further education. My Local Education Authority turned me down for a grant.

I lodged an appeal against that decision. The college gave me a deadline to guarantee to them that I had the funds for my first year.

Forty-eight hours before their deadline expired, I learned that I had lost my appeal.

Forty-eight hours to go, and no money. Of course, I had been saving every month, but on its own it was nothing like enough for tuition and accommodation.

You can imagine that in that situation I started to wonder whether I was called to college after all. I had a collection of all sorts of notes of Bible verses, things trusted friends had said to me, and passages from books that had jumped out at me, which collectively pointed the same way.

But now it was all collapsing. Like I said, forty-eight hours to go and no money.

I’m sure you can see some similarities with the story of John the Baptist here.

He has been so sure of his calling. He has preached his heart out, without fear or favour. He has heralded his cousin Jesus as the Messiah.

But no longer. He’s in prison. Soon he will be executed. And so our reading begins,

2 When John, who was in prison, heard about the deeds of the Messiah, he sent his disciples 3 to ask him, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?’

Note how two things here conspire to lead to John’s sense of doubt. One is that he’s in prison. The other is that he asks these questions ‘When … he heard about the deeds of the Messiah’. It’s as if what he hears Jesus is up to doesn’t fit with his ideas of the Messiah’s job description.

You wouldn’t think that someone with John the Baptist’s calling would be so full of doubts, but he is. The negative circumstances push in on him and create doubt.

Does that in any way sound familiar? Are there bad events in your life that have had an effect on your faith? The loss of a job which had seemed so right for you. An early bereavement. A child going off the rails. A significant injustice. A beloved church leader falling into serious sin. A great dream for your life manifestly not coming to fruition.

If you are struggling in some way like that this Advent, then consider with me what Jesus offers in this passage in response to John the Baptist’s dark night of the soul.

Two things. Firstly, focus on Jesus.

How does Jesus respond to John’s disciples when they come to him with their leader’s questions?

4 Jesus replied, ‘Go back and report to John what you hear and see: 5 the blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor. 6 Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me.’

Look at what I’m doing, says Jesus. I’m fulfilling prophecy. This is straight from Isaiah 35, which is the Old Testament Lectionary reading paired with this Gospel reading.

Listen to Isaiah:

5 Then will the eyes of the blind be opened
    and the ears of the deaf unstopped.
6 Then will the lame leap like a deer,
    and the mute tongue shout for joy.

It corresponds closely with what Jesus describes himself doing here, and other parts of what Jesus says here show him fulfilling parts of Isaiah 61.

And if you started singing ‘O for a thousand tongues’ when I read those words from Isaiah 35, then bonus points for you, because these were part of Charles Wesley’s inspiration for that hymn.

Now these were probably not the verses John the Baptist had in mind for his cousin Jesus. He had described his cousin in quite fierce terms at times, and he might have wanted to go just before the healing of the blind, the deaf, the lame, and the mute in Isaiah 35:5-6 to the preceding two verses where the hearers are told not to worry, because their God will come with vengeance.

And John might have expected Jesus to go beyond the part of Isaiah 61 about proclaiming the good news to the poor to subsequent verses that talk about the day of vengeance of our God.

But as we know, Jesus postpones the talk of vengeance to the Last Judgment. It is there in his teaching, but he is clear that his incarnation, which we celebrate at Christmas, is about coming with the offer of salvation.

I don’t know, but maybe John could have done with a bit of vengeance as he sat in the dungeon of Herod Antipas. Perhaps it was easy to lapse into that way of thinking given the popular expectation of a military Messiah.

But sometimes what helps us when we are in our metaphorical dungeon is to be able to see a different part of Jesus’ character or ministry. Essentially, that’s what Jesus does here. Roughly speaking, he says to the disciples of John, look at the evidence and see that I’ve come to bring the promised salvation. That’s what my advent is about.

There is always more to Jesus than we have fully appreciated. The part of Jesus’ ministry to which he refers the disciples of John may not be what helps when we are in darkness because a loved one has not been healed. At those times it may be the way Jesus embraced human suffering himself that brings light to our darkness. Or the wonder of the Resurrection may be what brings us hope when we walk in the valley of the shadow of death.

More Jesus is always a good thing. We might want to read the Gospels more fully. We might find that a trusted Christian friend leads us to the aspect of Jesus that we need to lift us during our troubles.

The late Dr W E Sangster, the famous minister at Westminster Central Hall, once wrote that the Gospel is like a many-faceted diamond. We need to find the facet that shines the Good News into our particular situation.

We could adapt that very slightly and say that Jesus too is a many-faceted diamond, and that we simply need to find the facet of his Person and Work that shines his light into our situation.

Secondly, focus on Jesus’ estimation of you.

7 As John’s disciples were leaving, Jesus began to speak to the crowd about John: ‘What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed swayed by the wind? 8 If not, what did you go out to see? A man dressed in fine clothes? No, those who wear fine clothes are in kings’ palaces. 9 Then what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. 10 This is the one about whom it is written:

‘“I will send my messenger ahead of you,
    who will prepare your way before you.”

11 Truly I tell you, among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist; yet whoever is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.

Undoubtedly in Jesus’ eyes, John the Baptist was the one prophesied by Malachi to be like Elijah come again as the forerunner to the Messiah, or the messenger in Isaiah who prepares the way. In other words, he was someone who had a profoundly important rôle in God’s plans.

Yet matched with that greatness was the humility of his standing, where even the least in the kingdom of God was greater. John was familiar with the humility needed, for as he had said of Jesus, ‘He must increase, but I must decrease.’

In other words, John was exactly who he thought he was before his crisis of faith. His call remains. God’s estimation of him remains.

How might this apply to us? I don’t know the calling of every individual who watches this video. I can’t even tell who watches it, only the overall numbers who do so.

But what I can say about all of you is that what hasn’t changed even when you had a crisis of faith, even when you doubted the very goodness of God, is that you remain beloved of him. You are still made in his image, carrying special dignity and responsibility for him in the world. You are still one for whom Jesus Christ came, lived, died, and rose again, that the barrier of sin between you and God might be removed and you be usefully employed in the service of his kingdom. You remain one whom your God will never forsake.

Your circumstances may make you question God’s love and God’s purposes for you. But remember that even Jesus expressed a sense of God-forsakenness on the Cross, and what could be darker than that? Yet his Faither brought him through that, using the Cross for good, and vindicating him in the Resurrection. Wait through your night for the dawn that God will bring.

The Christian writer Ann Voskamp says,

Christ-followers do more than believe some things are true, they trust that SomeOne is here.

She goes on to say,

This is a heart-broken planet, but this is not a forsaken planet. …

What electrifies all the dark is that Emmanuel is with us, and the current of His love holds the power to transform the darkest parts of our story into light.

His Withness heals all this brokenness.

May that be our hope this Advent and Christmas.

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Video sermon And Text: Active Patience (Second Sunday Of Advent)

This week, having realised that the copyright fears that led me not to post my videos these last couple of weeks were groundless, I’m going to give you both the video and the text of my talk.

2 Peter 3:8-15

In my teens, one of my favourite pop songs was ‘I’m Not In Love’ by 10cc. It was cleverly arranged and produced, and it had wry and touching lyrics that even clicked with a fifteen-year-old.

However, I heard both the single version and the album version on the radio. The single was a four-minute butchered edit of the full six-minute album track, and so I saved my pocket money to buy the album.

The album – ‘The Original Soundtrack’ – also contained much darker material, not least a song called ‘The Second Sitting For The Last Supper’ in which the band mocked the Christian hope of Christ appearing again in glory.

Two thousand years and he ain’t come  yet
We kept his seat warm and the table set
The second sitting for the Last Supper

It’s a hope for which many people mock us. It’s a hope with which numerous Christians struggle.

Perhaps sometimes it touches on those never-quite-disappeared childhood traits, remembering the times as little ones that we sat in the car while our parents drove, and within five minutes were asking, ‘Are we there yet?’

The third chapter of 2 Peter can give us help in understanding God’s purposes and responding appropriately. What these verses tell us is that when we understand God better, we shall also understand better how to live.

So firstly, understanding God better:

8 But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: with the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.

This verse, which takes some words from a psalm, tells us two things about God which get taken up in the next two verses. If a thousand years are like a day to the Lord, then he acts over a long period of time. But if the reverse is also true, that a day is like a thousand years, then God also acts suddenly and quickly.[1]

We see the long-term patience in verse 9:

9 The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.

The slow – to our eyes – acting of God is a mercy to the human race. He doesn’t want to wrap things up without people having a full opportunity to repent and put their faith in his Son, Jesus.

So if someone mocks us as Christians for the fact that Jesus has not returned, we can remind them that he is hanging back to give them the chance to hand over their lives to him. ‘Why hasn’t he come?’ we might reply. ‘Because he’s waiting for you.’

They may or may not appreciate that answer! But it is consistent with the merciful and gracious character of God. The offer of salvation is not a quick, instant, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it event. It is there on the table and stays on the table even for the most recalcitrant of sinners.

God is patient. Jesus hasn’t forgotten to come again, because he hasn’t forgotten the sinners he loves.

But as well as the long-term patience of God there is also his ability to act suddenly and quickly. Verse 10:

10 But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything done in it will be laid bare.

God may be patient, but he will not suffer mocking. He will ‘come like a thief’. Christ appearing again ‘like a thief [In the night]’ is a common New Testament image for his return in glory. No-one expects that a thief is coming: you need to be prepared in order to avoid suffering loss.

It’s no good, then, having a casual attitude to God which says, ‘I’ll live just how I like, and then I’ll repent at my leisure on my deathbed.’ That is to treat a patient and merciful God with contempt, and to forget that he is also holy.

And – although in some cases it can be emotional manipulation – the old line of the evangelists that asked, ‘If you were to be hit by a bus tonight, do you know what would happen to you eternally?’ makes a good point to those who would be casual with God and disregard the fact that he can act suddenly and quickly.

So I think we can put these two apparently contradictory elements of God’s character together and see where that leaves us with our Advent hope. God is patient, because he longs for everyone to repent. Yet he will not be mocked by those who treat him casually, and one day he will come both suddenly and quickly. He will even do that before the end in individual people’s lives.

Therefore secondly, we look at understanding better how to live:

Just as there were two elements to understanding God better, so there are two corresponding ways to live in the light of that as we await our Advent hope of Christ’s appearing again in glory.

In response to God’s sudden and quick action, not least in his glorious return, we read verses 11 to 13:

11 Since everything will be destroyed in this way, what kind of people ought you to be? You ought to live holy and godly lives 12 as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming. That day will bring about the destruction of the heavens by fire, and the elements will melt in the heat. 13 But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells.

Forty years ago, I went to Spring Harvest for the first time. On the first evening, a preacher named Stuart Briscoe said that he believed in 2 Peter 3 when he saw the atomic bomb fall on Hiroshima. Then he knew it was possible for the heavens to be destroyed by fire and the elements to melt in the heat (verse 12).

But we do this a dis-service if we think that Christ’s sudden and speedy return is only about destruction. For we go on to read of the hope expressed elsewhere in the New Testament, not least by Paul in his letters and John in Revelation, that Christ’s goal is to bring ‘a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells’ (verse 13).

This is why Christ will come again in glory: to bring a new creation, where righteousness dwells.

And so the way to live in the light of that is to live in righteousness now. Christ calls us to live now as a sign of his new world that is coming. Live according to the new creation, not the surrounding culture.

What would it mean to live in righteousness now? Well, the English word ‘righteousness’ might be a little misleading here. Often we take it just to refer to matters of personal morality. But the Greek word means not only personal righteousness but social righteousness – justice, if you will – as well.

So our personal moral conduct needs to come more closely in line with what Jesus calls it to be. But so do our actions in society.

Abraham Kuyper was a Dutch Christian theologian and politician – in fact, he became Prime Minister. He put it this way:

‘There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry, Mine!’

Is there any part of our lives where we don’t want Christ to cry, ‘Mine!’?

And then there is the way we live in response to the patience of Christ. This comes at the end of the reading:

14 So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him. 15 Bear in mind that our Lord’s patience means salvation, just as our dear brother Paul also wrote to you with the wisdom that God gave him.

‘Our Lord’s patience means salvation.’ As we saw earlier, that patience means salvation in the opportunity for repentance, and so another way we live in the light of Christ’s coming is to offer the Gospel.

But it’s also the climax of our own salvation. For our salvation is not just the forgiveness of our sins through the Cross, it is also the transformation of sinful lives by the Holy Spirit into those that live righteously as we’ve just been saying.

And it is also that our salvation will be completed when Christ appears in glory. For when righteousness dwells, sin will be abolished. Peace will reign. All shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well, as Mother Julian of Norwich said. This is part of our great hope.

To conclude – Christ’s appearing in glory seems to be a long time coming, but it is because God is patient. The chance is there for repentance, and the Church must announce that.

But Christ will still come suddenly and quickly. Let us be prepared by living according to the pattern of his great future.

[1] My understanding of these two contrasting elements is owed to Ben Witherington III, Letters and Homilies for Hellenized Christians Volume II, pp376-8.

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Sermon: Holy Suspense (Advent Sunday)

As with last week and throughout Advent I won’t be able to post the video of my devotional talk for the week. However, here is the text as I explore the Lectionary Gospel (Year B) and tackle that sense of suspense and tension that confronts us at Advent and throughout our Christian lives.

Mark 13:24-37 NRSV

In the lead-up to family birthdays and to Christmas, there is a noticeable difference between the males and the females in my immediate family.

My wife and daughter cannot stand not knowing what their presents will be. They want to know in advance. In particular, I often subjected to intense lobbying from my daughter to know what we’ve bought her.

My son and I are different. Both of us are content to wait and find out on the day. That’s part of the pleasure for us. If we knew in advance, it would be an anti-climax.

Advent – and particularly Advent Sunday itself – is about how you deal with suspense. That’s why this week’s theme in the series I’m following is called ‘Holy Suspense’.

We are living in between times in a sense of tension and hope about what is to come, not satisfied with life as it is and longing for it to be different.

We are in the hour before dawn, the time when the temperature is usually at its coldest, but when the complete darkness begins to be replaced by a blue light. As twilight before dawn beckons, indirect light from the Sun below the horizon takes on a blue shade. It is sometimes called ‘blue hour’.

The ancient Celts used to talk about living in ‘The time between the times’, and while some of their expressions of that would not be helpful to us, I think we can at least affirm those words.

For that is where the holy suspense of Advent, in the hour before dawn, places us: in the time between the times.

But what times are we in between? There are two in Mark chapter 13.

You may be surprised to hear that, because for a long time people have wrongly assumed this chapter is entirely about the Second Coming and the events leading up to it. However, there is a real tension between two ‘comings’ in this chapter, and the Lectionary verses we have today give us the cusp between the two.

So – what is the first coming in Mark 13?

You might assume it is Jesus’ first coming, the Incarnation, the great event to which we are building up.

But you would be mistaken.

24 ‘But in those days, after that suffering,

the sun will be darkened,

   and the moon will not give its light,

25 and the stars will be falling from heaven,

   and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.

26Then they will see “the Son of Man coming in clouds” with great power and glory. 27Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.

Now some of you will jump on that language and say it’s talking about the Second Coming. My one-word answer to that is ‘no’, but bear with me as I explain what it is.

For one thing, language about the sun being darkened, the moon not giving its light, stars falling from heaven, and powers in heaven being shaken is not to be taken literally. This is neither Carol Kirkwood giving the weather forecast on BBC Breakfast, nor is it Brian May or Brian Cox describing an astronomical event on The Sky At Night. This is special language that we call ‘apocalyptic language’, which was a veiled way of speaking so that enemies like the Romans would not understand what they were on about.

But, you say, the verses go on to speak about the Son of Man coming in clouds and sending his angels to gather his elect from the four winds. That must be the Second Coming, mustn’t it?

Only if you don’t recognise your biblical quotes, I respond. ‘The Son of Man coming in clouds’ is a direct citation of Daniel chapter 7. In that chapter the Son of Man does indeed come in clouds – but not to earth. He comes to the Ancient of Days, that is, Almighty God.

It would seem therefore that what Jesus is talking about here isn’t his first coming, nor is it his return, but his ascension to the right hand of the Father, where, as it says in Daniel 7, he receives the kingdom.

And Jesus’ statement

30Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place

makes it quite clear he is talking about an event that is very close at hand, not in the distant future.

What then about the Son of Man sending out the angels to gather the elect? That surely is the evangelistic mission of the church that Jesus commissions his disciples to undertake. He gives that command just before he ascends, and it begins at Pentecost.

Hold onto those thoughts for a moment, while we ask – what is the second coming in Mark 13?

Well – er – it’s the Second Coming! Not that the Bible ever uses that expression. Normally it uses a word that means not ‘coming’ but ‘appearing’ or maybe ‘presence’. Jesus will appear again on earth after his ascension, and we need to be ready.

That’s why he tells the little vignette at the end of the reading about the master who goes away (the ascension again) and leaves his slaves in charge of his property. However, those slaves need to be ready for whenever the master returns. They don’t know when that will be, so they need to be ‘on the watch’ and ‘keep[ing] awake’ (verses 32-37).

That’s all rather more straightforward than what I called the ‘first coming’, isn’t it?

The only strange thing about as far as I’m concerned is that all of Jesus’ teaching in this chapter is a response to him prophesying that the Jerusalem Temple will be destroyed, and Peter asking him when this will happen and what the signs will be (verses 1-3). So why would Jesus go on to talk about his return in glory?

I think it must be something like this: Jesus has solemnly spoken about the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple as a sign of judgment. But he goes on to warn that a greater judgment is waiting in the wings for the end of time.

Right – now that I’ve outlined what I think is the right way to understand this passage, we can answer some practical questions about how we live during holy suspense.

For the suspense in which we live is this: at the ascension, Jesus sat down at the right hand of the Father and was given the kingdom of God. He reigns.

Yet not all is well, and we await his appearing (a.k.a. the Second Coming) when everything will be put under his feet.

Just as the Queen reigns but not everyone obeys the law of the land, so we live in a time like that. Jesus is in charge of the universe, but not everyone acknowledges that. Such a state of affairs creates a sense of tension for us as followers of Jesus.

Two applications, then:

Firstly, the gathering of the elect: because not everyone willingly lives under the reign of King Jesus we are given the Great Commission to proclaim the Gospel. In the Roman Empire when a herald came announcing ‘good news’ it was usually the good news of a new Emperor or of great victories.

Well, that is our message in the Great Commission. There is a new king on the throne, and his name is Jesus. What’s more, he has won the greatest victories of all time – over sin and over death.

As we live with this great tension between Jesus receiving his kingdom and it being completely fulfilled, we call more people to bow the knee to King Jesus.

Secondly, the slaves staying alert and awake in the master’s house: because Jesus will appear again and everything and everyone will acknowledge him as Lord and King, we need to be ready for that. In other words, we need to live as if that future is already here. The call to obey Jesus now is critical, because it’s the consequence of proclaiming the Good News that he is King and has won those victories over sin and death.

Now that creates more of the tension with the world we live in, where to live like that may not be popular. But discipleship is not an option. And if we proclaim to the world that Jesus is King, then a necessary part of our witness to back up our words is to live as if Jesus is King. Which he is.

To conclude: do we know what our present is on the Great Day of Christ’s Appearing? Yes and no. Yes, we know in general terms that his new creation will be full of truth, beauty, and love, and there will no longer be anything to spoil it.

But also no, because how can we imagine such a gift with accuracy and detail? We might just as well also be surprised.

What we know is that Jesus will reign without any further opposition.

Meanwhile, we live as citizens of his kingdom and proclaim his reign, even though that brings tension.

But one day, the suspense will be over and all will be well.

That is the Advent hope.

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Sermon: The Sheep And The Goats Revisited

There is no video version of the sermon this week, and probably no more video before Christmas. I’ve begun a series that uses some copyright material I’ve bought but I think I would infringe that copyright if I shared it here.

So it’s back to the old ways and a text-only version of the sermon this weekend.

I might be able to separate out my talk and just post that part of the video, I’m not sure (I’ll need to check what my WordPress account allows.) But I can’t do that this week, as I’d deleted that video before thinking of that possibility!

Anyway – here is what I hope to be a fresh take on Jesus’s story about the sheep and the goats.

Matthew 25:31-46

This is one of those passages where we think we know what it means, but the popularly accepted meaning is a bit off-kilter.

We’re used to hearing that this is about how at the end of time Jesus will judge everyone on the basis of their treatment of those in need, and that this is important because Jesus is present in every human being.

Unfortunately, there are a lot of misconceptions in that summary, and the popular interpretation needs a fair bit of tweaking.

I’m not about to say that we’re going to be let off treating the poor and the suffering with dignity – nothing of the sort! – but just as your car may need tuning up and cleaning at its MOT and annual service, so there are some things to clear away and see better in this story.[i]

Firstly, let’s not call this a parable. This isn’t the most important point I’m going to make, but just to clear this up at the outset: we often call this ‘the parable of the sheep and the goats’, but there is no parable language here. Jesus’ characteristic expression, ‘The kingdom of God/heaven is like …’ is absent. There is nothing ambiguous here about the meaning. The meaning is not hidden from the hearers.

Some writers have called this a ‘vision’. What we can be sure of is it’s not a parable. For simplicity, I’ll call it a ‘story’.

Secondly, when is this happening? We are used to saying that this is a scene of the Last Judgment. It’s certainly true that this leads to eternal consequences, for the story ends with the goats going away to eternal punishment and the sheep to eternal life (verse 46).

However, we also need to pay attention to the beginning of the story:

When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. (Verse 31)

We have assumed that this means the Son of Man (Jesus) coming again. But this is language based on Daniel 7 where the exalted Son of Man comes not to earth but to the Ancient of Days (Almighty God). It is language not about the Second Coming but the Ascension. Jesus is already reigning from heaven.

You may think that is just a technicality, but it has an important application. Yes, there are eternal consequences to people’s actions, but know that even at this moment Jesus is watching and judging. The Last Judgment is merely the climax of the judging Jesus is doing even now.

So that means – well, what specifically? Hang on while we clean up a few more parts of the story, and eventually we’ll have a fuller picture.

Thirdly, who is being judged?

All the nations will be gathered before him (verse 32a)

We assume from an expression like ‘all the nations’ that this means everybody. This is how everyone will be judged.

But not so fast. ‘The nations’, or ta ethne in the Greek, is a technical expression. The Greek translates from Hebrew the way in which Jews talked about everyone who was not part of Israel. It’s close to saying, ‘The Gentiles.’

That would mean that here we have in view how Jesus will judge those who are not part of the People of God. And when we put that in the context of Jesus’ whole teaching, it would mean not so much ‘The Gentiles’, that is, all non-Jews, but rather, those who are not a part of his reconstituted Israel, namely, his disciples.

If that is true, then this story is about how Jesus judges those who are not his disciples.

How is he going to judge them? Let’s keep going, and things will become clearer.

Fourthly, who are ‘The least of these brothers and sisters of mine’? We have commonly taken ‘The least of these’ to mean all the global poor and suffering.

But that is to wrench these words out of the context of Matthew’s Gospel. For this is an expression Jesus uses more than once to refer to his disciples. He expects that his followers will end up as hungry, thirsty, strangers, naked, ill, and imprisoned. He has a lot to say about the cost of discipleship.

If you doubt that, come back from here, which is the climax of the fifth and final teaching block in Matthew’s Gospel, to the beginning of the first teaching block, namely the Sermon on the Mount. There, where Jesus addresses his disciples, he describes them in the Beatitudes as poor in spirit, mourning, meek, hungering and thirsting for righteousness, merciful, pure in heart, peacemakers, and persecuted. (Matthew 5:1-12)

The way of Jesus is not easy. It has a price.

Hence, when Jesus says to the sheep,

Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me. (verse 40)

he is saying, ‘you did this to my people’. That’s what ‘you did for me’ means – not that Jesus lives in all human beings, but that he is with his people.

So the nations here are being judged by how they treat the disciples of Jesus.

It’s consistent with what Jesus says elsewhere in Matthew’s Gospel:

And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward. (Matthew 10:42)

Of course, it all rather assumes that we Christians are actually living as disciples of Jesus, proclaiming the kingdom of God, calling people to repentance, ministering to the sick, the demonised, the poor, and so on. The nations are being judged on how they respond when they see the People of Jesus living like that.

This is not about whether the Church is accorded political privilege. It is not about Western Christians rushing to scream ‘Persecution!’ the moment we don’t get our way. Nor is it about the world legitimately criticising the Church when she has done wrong, such as with child-abusing clergy and officers.

The point is: when Christians act like Christ, how do the nations respond? Because Jesus is watching and judging.

…

Right, I think we’ve tuned up our understanding of the passage now. Where does this leave us?

We have a picture where the Last Judgment has begun, even now. Jesus is watching and judging from his heavenly throne. What people do now will seal their fate for eternity.

The story emphasises how he is watching those outside his disciples for how those nations treat his followers. Perhaps these include those who – despite, perhaps encountering Christians – never really hear the good news. They will be judged on the light they have received, seen in how they respond the disciples of Jesus.

We can be sure that Jesus is watching as China under President Xi arrests and unjustly imprisons Christians. He is doing the same as North Korea persecutes and often kills Christians. He is watching as the Iranian regime locks up Christians, and as Christians in Pakistan are subjected to spurious charges of blasphemy against Islam, while Imran Khan’s government does nothing. However much these nations get away with their violence now, Jesus is sealing eternal judgment for them at this very moment, if they do not repent.

But Jesus is also blessing those who stand up for his people, especially the suffering church. And on this front, it is worth us praying and campaigning that Boris Johnson will replace Rehman Chishti MP, who resigned as his Special Envoy on Freedom of Religion or Belief in September. So far, there is no known movement. Under Theresa May’s premiership, her Foreign Secretary Jeremy Hunt received the Mountstephen Report on the persecution of Christians and started to act on it. How will Jesus judge our nation?

All that said, although there is a specific focus of this story, that doesn’t mean I’m saying Christians don’t have to care for the poor. There are plenty of Bible passages to make it clear that’s a priority for us. What I’m saying today isn’t a ‘Get out of jail free’ card on that one.

In our case, Jesus calls us into his kingdom through repentance and faith in him, based on his work at the Cross. Then, having received his free grace, we respond in gratitude by aligning our lives more closely with his kingdom. And that includes our care for the poor, the sick, the hungry, the thirsty, and the imprisoned.

So even as we learn that Jesus has a way of judging those who are not part of his people, it is also worth us reflecting on whether we are showing our gratitude for the love of Christ by living in his kingdom ways, giving prime concern to the last and the least.

[i] My sources this week include Michael Green, Matthew For Today; Tom Wright, Matthew For Everyone Volume 2; G R Beasley-Murray, Jesus and the Kingdom of God; Ian Paul, The ‘parable’ of the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25.

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