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.

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.

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.

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.

Video Sermon: What Is Your Verdict On God? (Joshua 24:1-28)

We’re jumping from Joshua 3 a week ago to the final chapter today. Why? I suspect it’s because many people are uncomfortable with the Book of Joshua.

I offer some brief responses to those concerns in this video, and then I go on to the way in which Joshua prosecutes for a verdict from Israel in favour of renewing their covenant with God.

Joshua 24:1-28

Finally, there are some prayers for Remembrance Sunday.

Video Sermon: You Have Never Been This Way Before – How To Face New Challenges

I wrote and recorded this week’s video a week ago, so it was before last night’s announcement by the Prime Minister that England is being placed in another lockdown from Thursday coming.

Joshua 3 has been significant for me for a long time as a guide to how we face new challenges in life. And we certainly need that help right now.

I hope this helps you, too. If it does, please share this on your socials.

Treasure in Dark Places: Interview with Liz Carter

Two years ago, I read Liz Carter‘s stunning and challenging book ‘Catching Contentment: How to be Holy Satisfied‘. Her insights into finding peace and joy in God with no help from life circumstances made it my book of the year. It found an instant place in a collection of books I dub my ‘Pastoral First Aid Kit.’

Now Liz is back with a new title, ‘Treasure in Dark Places: Stories and Poems of Hope in the Hurting‘. Written mainly during lockdown and enforced shielding, and my copy arrived on publication day, last Saturday.

I’ve had the pleasure of interviewing Liz by email about her life situation and her writing. Enjoy.

Tell us a bit about yourself.

I live in Shropshire with my husband Tim, a vicar, and my two young adult children. I’ve been writing for most of my life – from a young age I knew it was what I wanted to do.

How long and in what ways has chronic illness affected your life?

I’ve been ill since infancy with a rare lung disease. I was the sickly child, the one always missing school. The disease is degenerative, so over years has taken more room in my life than I would wish. As a youngster I often felt different; a weakling, an object of scorn when I struggled once again in a PE lesson, someone who simply wasn’t trying hard enough, according to some of my reports. As an adult my illness arrested a teaching career after only five years, leaving me unable to work outside the home at a fairly young age. I was left feeling as if I had nothing to give, as if I was a failure, at life and at faith – surely, I thought (and some people said), I should have been healed, by now? I’d had enough prayer for healing through my lifetime – but it hadn’t happened. I’d only got sicker. Nowadays, I am often hospitalised with pneumonia, and struggle with multiple infections a year, leaving me in a constant state of fatigue and often breathlessness and pain.

Self-isolation during the COVID-19 lockdown must have been distressing. What was it like for you, and what got you through it?

When I received the shielding letter in March I was shocked and fearful. The words haunted me: I had been identified as someone at risk of severe illness if I caught the virus. I had to go into extreme shielding, away from my family, cut off in my room. I did not hug another human being for almost five months, and it was tough. I thought at first I would be okay with it, being used to some periods of isolation due to the infections I catch. But I wasn’t really okay at all, I found. Days were long and nights were sleepless, I was sad and I was scared. I’d been writing a book I thought I would finish, but the words stopped coming. I knew I needed to stop, to allow myself to admit this experience was painful, to sit within it a while. As I did so I found other words beginning to flow; words of honest poetry and re-imaginings of encounters with Jesus, words that took me closer into the depths of God when my own depths seemed fathomless. As I wrote, I found that God’s depths were even deeper still, and more than that, God was abiding there in those depths with me, holding me, in a way no other could.

Your first book, ‘Catching Contentment’, was about being content in Christ regardless of whether someone’s life circumstances were favourable. How did you first learn that for yourself?

To be honest, I’m still learning it – definitely a work-in-progress! It’s been a long journey over years, but the last few years in particular has led me to a greater peace in who I am and my situation, as I’ve delved deeper into what the Bible says about contentment – and how it doesn’t promise a pain-free life for those who follow Jesus. I loved reading more deeply around the words of St Paul, who said he’d found the secret to contentment, and wrote so profoundly of the truths he had discovered, of dying to self and rejoicing in all circumstances, of setting his mind on Jesus and living in the glorious hope we have been given. The more I read of scripture the more I can catch hold of the contentment not found in my wholeness, but in God’s holiness.

In your new book, ‘Treasure In Dark Places’, you are also tackling the question of suffering, but using other modes of creativity, such as poetry. How did you decide to approach this important theme from such a different angle?

I think that sometimes it’s difficult to capture something of the depths of pain and the breadth of hope in prose alone. The book of Psalms is my favourite book of the Bible because it expresses in such beautiful poetry something of the truth of who God is and how God loves, and I think that we need such forms today, as well. Often words of poetry will resonate and comfort deeper places where other words might not reach.

Can you share a short piece from ‘Treasure In Dark Places’ with us, please?

Yes, of course!

I wrote this one early on in the pandemic, when there was much talk of how the vulnerable and shielded would be placed at the bottom of the list for treatment when healthcare became overwhelmed. It was a response born of emotion but also of lament for all those who are suffering through illness or disability, and have been made to feel lesser in these times:

#SHIELDED

So what am I worth

in this scourge of the earth

it seems I am cursed

as my body is worse

than the young and the fit

I’m a number, an it

I know I’d be missed

but I’m on The List

condemned in a letter

until the earth’s better

I’m measured as less

in infirmity’s mess

But my value’s in more

than my CFS score

worth beyond age

or words on a page

more than a look

at lines in a book

a flawed reflection

of holy perfection

a new creation

of glory’s narration

loved beyond measure

in deep sacred treasure.

You’ve written these books despite the tremendous difficulties of your personal circumstances. Are people with chronic illness undervalued by the church, and if so what can we do to put that right?

Sometimes, yes, I’m afraid so. The undervaluing is expressed in 3 different ways, in general:

1. Sick people who have not been healed do not show enough faith, and therefore we should invest more in those who do.

2. People with chronic illnesses often cannot come to church, or to meetings, or can be ‘flaky’ and drop out far too often, therefore can be difficult to involve fully in the life of the church.

3. People who are long-term ill can be incredibly inspirational and brave, but we shouldn’t ask them to do anything because they probably don’t have enough energy.

All of these make assumptions: unless we are asked, we do not have the choice to say yes or no. Unless we are invited, we cannot grow into the calling God has upon us – for ministry, or hospitality, or anything else. Unless reasonable adjustments are made for our mobility needs and also for the fact that we do ‘flake out’ a lot, we are left on the edges, looking in to where it’s all happening without us.

I think that the pandemic has exposed something of this and many churches have responded so well, offering more and more content online to those who are housebound, and involving these people in leadership more. Churches will do well to keep up online worship when everyone else goes back to normal and sick people are left back in their isolation – I’m so glad my own church is being very pro-active about doing this.

With regards to those churches who assume lack of faith, that’s a simple case of re-examining some of the theology and bringing more compassion and understanding to the table. I’d love to see more of that!

Do you have any particular words of hope or encouragement for others who, like you, are enduring chronic illness or a life-limiting condition?

I find such great hope and glimpses of light when I reflect upon Jesus’ own life, suffering, death and resurrection. The more I think upon it, the more I am amazed at his outrageous and astonishing love for me, and the more this hope shines through the darkness. I would also want to add that it’s okay to release yourself from the bonds of feeling as though you have let God – or others – down, by continuing to be ill, whether physically or mentally. We must find space to be honest before God and others, to share our lament and our sorrow, and it’s in that place of honesty God so often does his redemptive work in our lives.

What is the main message of ‘Treasure in Dark Places’ and who should buy it?

Treasure in Dark Places is a collection of poetry and short stories that point towards hope, especially when it hurts. Its message is a reminder of God’s grace, love and supernatural peace, and a call towards the heart of God, to encounter more of God in our own depths and to lay out our own pain in candour and relief, as God meets us within our own dark places. It’s for everyone who sometimes finds life tough going – not only for those who live with illness, but for people who struggle in any way – I think that’s all of us, really.

Thank you so much, Liz.

I warmly encourage you to buy Liz’s books, Treasure in Dark Places and Catching Contentment.

You can also follow her blog and her YouTube channel.

Finally, here’s another poem from Treasure in Dark Places:

Video Sermon: How Do We Understand The Presence Of God?

Continuing with the story of Moses and the Israelites, this week we arrive at Exodus 33:12-23.

However, rather than explore this story, I’m taking up one important theme in it – the presence of God – and giving a sketch of that subject as it appears through Scripture.

I hope you find these thoughts helpful in your own life.

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