Principles of Giving (2 Corinthians 9:6-15)

2 Corinthians 9:6-15

There is a certain cluster of topics that a minister can preach on and will know they are likely to provoke guilt feelings in the congregation. One is evangelism: which of us truly is a good witness to Christ? Another is prayer: can any of us say we pray enough, or are close to God?

And another is today’s subject: giving. How easy it is for a preacher to lay the guilt on thick when it comes to money. You may have had someone use emotional manipulation to obtain greater giving from you, either in the church or in the world. You may have been sucked in by the consumerism of our culture. If I had wanted to do that here, I would have preached this sermon before our annual Gift Day, not after – as is the case.

In our reading, Paul is not talking about regular giving. He is organising a collection among the early churches to support those in Jerusalem who are suffering from a famine. What he’s promoting here is closer to the one-off gifts we make when a natural disaster hits somewhere in the world, and the Disasters Emergency Committee springs into action with TV adverts.

One or two of you will say, so why don’t you go to the Old Testament teaching about tithes and offerings, then? Isn’t that about regular giving? If we did a series of sermons on the subject, I would cover it. But at this point I will just say that tithes and offerings are more complicated than some Christians think. Translating them to our situation is not that straightforward.

But in today’s passage, even though it is about one-off gifts, Paul goes back to basic Christian principles about giving to make his appeal here. Those same basic principles should be at the foundation of all our decisions about giving. So let’s explore them.

Firstly, Generosity

6 Remember this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously.

Now this is a verse that has been abused by some Christian leaders. They have made false promises to congregations on the basis of this verse that if they give a lot of money, then God will bless them with a lot of money. They have appealed to the base instinct that wants to get rich and said, if you want to be wealthy then ‘sow a seed’ – usually into that preacher’s ministry. Sure enough, the preacher then gets enough money to fly everywhere in a private jet, while those who give find no improvement in their financial position and may even be driven into poverty. I think there is a special place in Hell for such preachers.

But there is still an important principle here, and that is the call for the Christian to have a generous character. There is only one way to develop a generous character, and that is to be generous.

We have good reason for doing this: we follow a generous God. I shall have more to say about that in a few minutes, but for now let’s note that Paul ends this passage on that note:

15 Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!

God’s indescribable gift is Jesus! How generous was God in giving up his only begotten Son to take on human flesh and die and rise again for the salvation of the world? We seek to give generously, because we love and serve a God who is the supreme generous giver.

What kind of earthly parent would ask, how little can I get away with giving to my children? We know instead that loving parents give to their children at their own expense. This is what God has done for us. This is why we are called to be generous givers.

So a question we need to ask of ourselves when assessing our giving to the church is not, ‘How little can I get away with?’ but ‘How much from my income and in my circumstances would constitute generous giving?’

Remember: this is about the growth of Christian character. Do I desire to be like our generous God?

Secondly, Cheerfulness

7 Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.

‘God loves a cheerful giver.’ The late American Baptist preacher and sociologist Tony Campolo put this verse into practice. When driving on a toll road and coming up to the toll booth, he would wind his window down, give money to the clerk on duty, and say to them, ‘This is for me, and also for my friend in the car behind.’ Then, as he drove away, he would watch in his rear view mirror the ensuing conversation between the toll clerk and the next driver. You’ve guessed: Campolo didn’t know the driver behind him from Adam, but he took joy in his giving.

Your trivia fact for this week is that the Greek word translated in English as ‘cheerful’ is hilaros, from which we get our word ‘hilarious’. Does God love a hilarious giver? Why not? Tony Campolo had much hilarity in paying for the driver behind him. And is not God full of joy and hilarity?

So I’m very much trying to avoid making this sermon one of those gloomy ones that load more and more guilt on people. As I said at the beginning, the moment people hear the sermon is on this subject, the risk of ladling guilt on people is high.

And I hope you heard that in Paul’s language, much as he wants the Corinthians to give generously, there is no emotional manipulation here: the decision on how much to give should not be made ‘reluctantly or under compulsion’.

What if Christians are reluctant to give? When [my predecessor] John Illsley began his ministry in Sheffield, the local Anglican vicar was Robert Warren. He was in charge of a massive church with several satellite congregations across Sheffield: St Thomas, Crookes. They saw four-figure attendances on Sundays, and due to their growth had held several appeals to support more building. Warren said in a book that if people did not want to give, the answer was not to make them feel guilty. Rather, it was to give more grace. It is when we truly understand how gracious and merciful God has been to us in Christ that we shall want to give. Then it will be a freewill decision, and it will be joyful.

Thirdly, Trust

8 And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work. 9 As it is written:

‘They have freely scattered their gifts to the poor;
    their righteousness endures for ever.’

10 Now he who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will also supply and increase your store of seed and will enlarge the harvest of your righteousness.

Giving is an act of trust. I confess that for a long time I had trouble believing in a God who was a generous Father. My human father certainly showed me love, but my upbringing was one where for the most part my parents didn’t have it easy financially. I would always be the child in the class at school who received the cheapest Christmas presents. I overheard conversations between Mum and Dad about how they were going to manage their money.

But I learned an amazing lesson about the generous Father I could trust when I wanted to go to theological college and explore what God’s call on my life was. It was near the end of the days of student grants, not student loans, and the college that accepted me did not qualify for mandatory grants. My Local Education Authority took that as reason to deny me a grant.

The college told me I needed to guarantee my funding for the first year, and I appealed against the refusal to give me a grant. Forty-eight hours before the deadline the college gave me, I still hadn’t heard about my appeal. Phoning up, I was told, ‘I’m sorry, Mr Faulkner, there is a letter in the post saying we have rejected your appeal.’

It was at this late juncture that people suddenly started giving me money. My parents rediscovered a long-forgotten savings account. A student who was taking a year out between Sixth Form and college to work and save money for a car felt prompted to give that money to me. That student’s boyfriend also felt prompted to give me some funds. As did two elderly ladies at church, one of whom wrote the most moving letter in which she said, ‘It seems like God is calling you to trust him to meet your needs. He will meet ours, too.’

The next Sunday evening I was preaching at another church in our circuit. I preached on ‘Give us this day our daily bread’ and said that God had met my needs for college. In fact, I only had three-quarters, but I didn’t tell them that.

After the service, a middle-aged single man invited me back to his flat for coffee. As we sat in his living room, he explained that he had planned a three-week holiday to New Zealand to see his auntie. But his auntie had since died, and he no longer felt like going. He had already exchanged his sterling currency for New Zealand dollars, but since doing so their dollar had been devalued. Holding onto the money in the hope that the dollar’s value would improve, in fact it kept declining. Now this money was just annoying him. Would I like to take this annoyance off his hands?

Before I could say anything, he had thrown some plastic Thomas Cook envelopes into my lap. I can still remember the precise amount. 2310 NZ dollars. My Dad worked for NatWest and got me a staff rate of exchange: £742.31. Our friend had originally exchanged £1000 – and we’re talking a few decades ago now!

God blesses us, not so that we can financially keep up with the Joneses, but so that we can bless others.  Let us trust him.  

Conclusion, Thanksgiving

11 You will be enriched in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion, and through us your generosity will result in thanksgiving to God.

12 This service that you perform is not only supplying the needs of the Lord’s people but is also overflowing in many expressions of thanks to God. 13 Because of the service by which you have proved yourselves, others will praise God for the obedience that accompanies your confession of the gospel of Christ, and for your generosity in sharing with them and with everyone else. 14 And in their prayers for you their hearts will go out to you, because of the surpassing grace God has given you. 15 Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!

Originally, I wanted to make a whole fourth point about thanksgiving, but time is not on my side and so I just want to emphasise that thanksgiving is the desired result of true Christian giving. The recipients of our generosity will thank God (verse 11). Their thanksgiving will overflow (verse 12). God will be praised, because people will see us living out our faith (verse 13) as we respond to his grace (verse 14). And as I noted earlier, this is all rooted in our thanksgiving for God’s giving to us (verse 15).

If thanksgiving is at the heart of our giving, then this is about worship. Our giving is not a subscription to a club or even fund-raising: that is why in a service, I refer to the offering, not the collection.

By the grace of God, may we learn to give as an act of worship.

Epiphany and Covenant Service 2025: The Magi (Matthew 2:1-12)

This is a revised version of a sermon I preached six years ago but which is not on the blog. The text that follows is how I preached it in 2019 and does not exactly conform to the video, because I paraphrased and added some material:

Matthew 2:1-12

Rumour has it that the Nativity Play was cancelled at Parliament this Christmas.

Why? Apparently, they couldn’t find three wise men.

OK, that’s a silly Internet joke I saw during the festive season, along with the cartoon where three wise women bring practical gifts such as a casserole instead of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

But I love the story of the Magi, and with Covenant Sunday falling this year on Epiphany, the feast where the wider Christian Church throughout the world and down through history celebrates the appearing of the Messiah to the Gentiles, we have a story that also says much to the Covenant theme of commitment to Christ.

Here, then, are three aspects of the Magi and their coming that speak to the question of our commitment to Christ.

Firstly, the Magi were Gentiles.

Yes, I know that’s stating the obvious, but it’s important. Matthew is the most Jewish of all the four Gospels, but no Jew comes to worship the infant Christ in his Gospel, only the Magi from the east – perhaps modern-day Iraq.

The Magi represent all that is wrong in spiritual practice in the eyes of faithful Jews. They were astrologers, and astrology began in ancient Babylon. When Israel was taken captive to Babylon, astrology was a common habit of the surrounding culture. In the parts of Isaiah that relate to that part of Israel’s history, astrology is condemned and ridiculed. It is not the way to find truth and purpose in life. For the Jew, that could only be found by following the one true God – as it should for us, too, and which incidentally is why no Christian should devote time to their horoscope.

It is these unsound, unclean people that come in the highly Jewish Gospel according to Matthew and worship the infant Christ. Matthew is telling us that the Gospel, while originating with the Jews, is for the whole world. It’s no coincidence that Matthew ends his Gospel with the so-called Great Commission, where the risen Jesus sends his followers to the whole world with the call to discipleship.

Therefore the first challenge I want to bring from the story of the Magi this morning to us on Covenant Sunday is our call to be bearers of the Gospel to all people, including those who are not remotely like us. Who are the people who to us are unclean or unsound? Who are the people whose lifestyles we would instinctively condemn? Christ lived and died for them, too. Who are the people with whom we would not naturally associate, the people we wouldn’t mix with at a social gathering? Again, Christ lived and died for them.

I’ve noticed that one of the most contentious issues among residents of Byfleet has to do with what happens when travellers come and pitch up on land in the village. I understand some of that reaction, given the mess they often leave and the inconvenience they cause. But one of the great areas of numerical growth in Christianity in the UK these days is among travellers and gypsies. Largely, the Gospel was originally taken to them by our Pentecostal friends. Now there are indigenous gypsy congregations and Christian conventions. We might not want to have too much to do with them. But God loves them and has reached out to them through other Christians.

So I’d like us to consider this Covenant Sunday whether there are any people we might naturally think are unsavoury, but who need God’s love in Christ to be shown to them. Does anyone occur to you?

Secondly, the Magi decided to go.

The Magi go on their long and arduous journey, and when the biblical scholars tell them and Herod that the Messiah will be born in Bethlehem, they are still the only ones who go. Those who apparently know their Scriptures do nothing.

Christian commitment involves hearing the call of God and doing something about it. This the Magi demonstrate in spades. They don’t even know the Scriptures, but they follow the call as they have heard it the best they can. The strange sign of the star, the biblical reference from the prophet Micah to Bethlehem, and finally the warning in the dream not to return to Herod. In all these ways they show the characteristic of true disciples: they hear and they go.

I sometimes fear that we in the modern church are rather like the biblical scholars whom Herod called. We have heard and read the Christian message over and over again down years and decades, but do we always allow it to have a challenging or transforming effect on us? Do we hear the Bible read and then move on? Do we just read it and then close it?

I may have told you before the story of the Argentinean pastor who preached on the same text every week for a year.

‘Pastor, when you are you going to preach on something different?’ asked one church member.

‘When you start obeying this passage,’ replied the pastor.

Something like that can be our problem. We are fed a diet of weekly sermons, we think we know the Bible and our faith quite well, but how much have we let it change us?

Yet along come the Magi and for all their learning in other areas they are simple when it comes to matters of faith. God shows them what to do, and off they go.

I believe that sometimes it’s the newer and spiritually younger Christians who come along, get hold of something basic about the faith, and run with it in ways that really the experienced Christians might have done.

One example of this would be the Addlestone (now Runnymede) Food Bank. The person who had the vision for this was a middle-aged woman who had only recently found faith through an Alpha Course, but she quickly grasped that following Jesus meant caring about the poor. Her professional background was as a stockbroker. She was used to managing accounts containing many millions of pounds. She used her managerial and entrepreneurial skills in the service of God’s kingdom to sell the vision of the food bank to the churches, to start it up, organise, and run it, before being snapped up by the Trussell Trust for a national rôle with them. As I say, she was young in the faith, but she heard the voice of God and ran with it.

What more might we do if we allowed ourselves to be that bit less jaded about all the things we have heard over and over again in the Scriptures and in the preaching of the word?

More specifically, is there one particular thing where you know God has been giving you a little poke for a long time? Wouldn’t the Covenant Service be a great time finally to say ‘yes’ to him, ‘I’ll do it’?

Thirdly and finally, the Magi decided to give.

So yes, here we’re onto the gold, frankincense and myrrh. Not a casserole dish in sight.

The popular idea is that gold is for a king, frankincense for a priest, and myrrh to mark death. It’s very appealing, it fits with what comes later in Jesus’ ministry, but Matthew makes no such connections. This interpretation first arose in the second century AD, courtesy of the church leader Irenaeus.

As the New Testament scholar Dr Ian Paul says [in the article linked above],

In the narrative, they are simply extravagant gifts fit for the true ‘king of the Jews’.

And it’s as simple as that. The ‘king of the Jews’ who will come to be seen in Matthew as the king of all creation is worthy of extravagant giving. The gifts presented are worth a lot of money and come on the back of the immense giving of time and energy the magi have put in to come this great distance and pay homage to Jesus.

I wonder whether as experienced Christians our whole approach to giving becomes jaded. The giving of our time and energy can feel no different from a job or from involvement in a social activity or a hobby. The giving of our money can seem like little more than a subscription to a favourite cause, like just another standing order or direct debit from our current account.

Does it take the passion of newer Christians to get us in touch again with what giving could be for disciples of Jesus? Younger Christians are often passionate and inelegant in their worship and their giving. We may look down on their uncouth offering. We may give them a withering look or damn them with faint praise. We may do something similar not just with new Christians but with new churches.

But rather than resort to dressing up cynicism in spiritual language, we might better ask how the giving aspect of our own discipleship might be freshened up. Maybe in our spiritual lives we are tired and worn out. So perhaps that means we need a renewed encounter with Jesus himself.

And surely the God of love and mercy wants to refresh our dry Christian lives. He would love to give us a new vision of his Son through the work of his Holy Spirit in our lives. He would love to bring us to the feet of Jesus again. For there we encounter the One whose whole existence is of self-giving love. He loved us enough to give up heaven for human life – and humble, poor, obscure human life at that. He loved us enough to walk the way of the Cross so that our woundedness might be healed, our sins forgiven, and the power of dark forces broken. He loves us even now so much that he longs to give eternal life and spiritual gifts and blessings.

Yes, when we encounter God the Giver in Jesus Christ, we shall surely be inspired into a renewal of our own giving.

What I’d like to note as we conclude is that in twelve short verses where Matthew tells the story vividly but concisely, the Magi who leave by dodging Herod are men who have been changed from how they were at the beginning of the account. They arrived through the dubious offices of astrology. But they left, having listened to Scripture, having met Jesus, and having listened to God in a dream.

So are we open on this Covenant Sunday to being changed, too? Who are our Gentiles who need the Good News? Are we just sermon-tasters of theoretical Bible students, or are we like the Magi ‘going’ – that is, putting what we have heard into action? And have we encountered Jesus the Giver, who stirs up the extravagant giving of our hearts?

Friends, we too need to be changed. May we be open this Covenant Service and this New Year to the transforming power of Christ through his Holy Spirit.

Paul’s Favourite Church 8: A Grateful Receiver (Philippians 4:10-23)

Philippians 4:10-23

Over the years, I have learned as a preacher that there are a few topics you can preach on that can easily make your hearers feel guilty. One is prayer: who can honestly say that they pray enough? Another is evangelism: many of us feel nervous about that and so it’s easy to ladle on the guilt.

And one other is giving: it’s easy to tug on the emotions on that subject. Just look at the highly emotive advertisements many charities produce, if you doubt me. Preachers can do something similar.

Well, today’s passage is about giving. But it’s in reverse. Paul speaks as the recipient, not the giver. And although elsewhere he quotes Jesus as saying, ‘It is more blessèd to give than to receive,’ here he tells his friends in Philippi about the grace of receiving.

It struck me that this would be a helpful approach to adopt. Some of us find it hard to receive. Others of us are rather too keen to receive!

So you’ve heard all those sermons down the years about being a cheerful giver; this is about being a gracious receiver.

I’ve identified three traits of a gracious receiver in these verses.

Firstly, thankfulness:

10 I rejoiced greatly in the Lord that at last you renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you were concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it.

Paul was so grateful that he ‘rejoiced greatly.’

I expect that when you were young you were taught to write thank-you notes to people who had given you birthday or Christmas presents. The age of the handwritten note may be fading away, but our kids still ask us for the mobile phone numbers of the people who have given them presents, so that they can send them text messages. In fact, every Christmas Day at present-opening time I sit there with sheets of paper, recording who gave what to whom, so these lists can be used for the thank-you messages.

How different this is from Trick Or Treat at Halloween, which is like a small-scale demanding of gifts with menaces. At least some things happen now to moderate that and to reduce the fear some elderly people have, by kids only going to houses with pumpkins outside. Whatever would happen to the economy of Rogate otherwise?

Thankfulness is an important discipline that reminds us all of life is a gift. We don’t need to wait for our annual harvest festival to affirm that ‘All good gifts around us are sent from heaven above.’

We may have saved for certain things. We may have earned them with hard work. But they are still gifts, because all that is good comes from the hand of God. We are dependent on the giving nature of our God for life itself and all its accoutrements.

God is a giver. The sun shines and the rain falls on the righteous and the unrighteous alike. In the Parable of the Sower, the farmer distributes the seed everywhere with an almost reckless extravagance.

Therefore thankfulness, especially when practised towards God, is a reminder of God’s grace. Whether he gives directly to us or through someone else, it is pure gift. It is not based on what we deserve, only on what we need and what he delights to give us.

We are thankful to a generous God. But this is something it took me many years to grasp. I came up in a family where the default financial atmosphere was one of struggle. That my parents couldn’t give my sister and me as much as our friends received from their Mums and Dads is something I carried over into my image of God. Yes, God the Father was a giver, but he only just about gave what we needed to scrape by.

I have learned differently since. I still affirm that God is Father, and not an indulgent grandfather. He doesn’t want spoilt brats for his children. But he is good, and he is generous, and these are all reasons for thankfulness.

In the ancient form of Christian prayer called the Examen, each evening we review the day that is about to pass, and we look back for where we can rejoice with thankfulness at what God has done. It’s an encouraging practice. I commend it to you.

Secondly, contentment:

Paul goes on to say,

11 I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. 12 I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. 13 I can do all this through him who gives me strength.

Remember, Paul is sending this letter from prison in Rome. In those days, prisoners did not have their basic needs met by the state. If one of your family was imprisoned, you needed to supply them with the basics of life, even including food and drink. This is why Paul depends on gifts like these ones from his friends the Philippians.

What a contrast this is from when he was Saul, the up-and-coming scholar who also ran his tentmaking business. He was probably quite comfortably off then. He has experienced such oscillations in his standard of living.

But in the middle of such tumultuous changes in his lifestyle over the years, he can affirm that ‘I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.’

I don’t know whether you have been through similar ups and downs. I am sure some of you have. I certainly have. As I said a moment ago, my upbringing was financially challenging. But then when I was working as a single person, things were a lot easier. They were fine when we first got married.

Until we had children and Debbie ceased from paid work. Well do I remember the year when we would not have been able to afford new school uniform for one of our two unless I had received a funeral fee. For at that time, our friends at HMRC had managed to double-count my income and deny us the Child Tax Credits we were entitled to. On more than one occasion we only got the tax credits we were due thanks to the intervention of our MP.

Yet – did God change during that time? I would say ‘No.’ We still had whatever we needed, even if sometimes it was by the skin of our teeth.

God doesn’t change in his faithfulness. He doesn’t guarantee us wealth, but he does commit to looking after us in what he gives us. Perhaps Proverbs 30:8 puts it in a balanced way:

keep falsehood and lies far from me;
    give me neither poverty nor riches,
    but give me only my daily bread.

When we live in such an acquisitive society with its desire for more, more, more, what could be a more countercultural sign of living under God’s kingdom than doing so with contentment, because God is faithful?

Thirdly, reverence:

I’d like you to notice how Paul describes the Philippians’ generous gifts to him in verse 18:

I have received full payment and have more than enough. I am amply supplied, now that I have received from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent. They are a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God.

This is the language of temple worship: ‘a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God.’ Paul sees the package Epaphroditus has brought from Philippi as way more than a food parcel. He treats the giving of the Philippians as being an act of worship to God. Therefore, he handles it with reverence. Their gifts are holy.

Now I am sure that in one sense that is exactly how the Philippians regarded their giving. To supply Paul’s needs was something they did as an expression of their faith. Their love for God is a response to God’s love for them in the gift of Jesus Christ.

Therefore, a fitting response of worship is for them to give. And just as the giving of sacrifices in the Old Testament often constituted support for the temple workers such as the priests and Levites who had no land of their own where they could farm animals for their food, so here the Philippians give as an act of worship to support a worker in the new temple, namely their apostle. Paul recognises what they are doing. It’s worship. Their gifts should be handled with holiness.

Some of you have heard me say that when I first wanted to go to theological college, I was denied a student grant. (Remember them?) God provided for me financially in a remarkable way. I cannot tell you the whole story now, but I want to pull out one example of the generous giving. An elderly and very prayerful single lady in the church gave me a cheque for a large sum of money. With it she wrote a letter. In it she said, ‘It seems that God is calling you to trust him to supply your needs. We will trust him to meet our needs, too.’ Those words told me that her giving was a sacrifice. It was an act of worship.

All this is why I’m not so keen to refer to the monetary gifts we bring forward in the service as ‘The collection.’ Collections are OK, if not good, such as when we hold a collection for a good cause. But what we give to the Lord is not a collection because he’s in need: he owns the cattle on a thousand hills, as the Psalmist says.

No: it’s an offering. We dedicate it. We treat it with reverence. We pray for those who will handle it. It’s part of our worship.

Conclusion

You may have seen the news story in the week about the death of the famous actor Timothy West at the age of 90. He had been married to the actress Prunella Scales for 61 years. And you may well know that in their final years together West was caring for his wife through dementia. One of the news reports showed a clip of them a year or so ago when they had reached their diamond wedding. The reporter asked what it was like being married for that long. Prunella struggled for words, but then planted a kiss on her husband’s cheek, and said, ‘Thank you.’ It was a beautiful moment.

There is a beauty in being thankful, being content, and treating gifts with reverence. It offers beauty back to the giver and gives glory to the Great Giver himself.

Sure, it is more blessèd to give than to receive. But this is one way in which that giver is blessed.

So let us never tire of being thankful. We have an eternity of thankfulness ahead of us.

Farewell 1: Keep On Keeping On (Acts 20:17-38)

This week I begin a series of three farewell messages before I move to another circuit. This one is for my Byfleet church.

Acts 20:17-38

Here we have a story about a church leader saying goodbye to a church he loves. Therefore you can see why I picked it for today.

I want to make it clear that I am not taking it any deeper than that. I am not comparing myself to the Apostle Paul. I am not expecting to go to prison when we move to Liphook. And I am not saying we shall never meet again.

And to reassure one person who saw this passage in this week: no, I am not expecting you all to kiss me before I go! For the ‘brotherly kiss’ of the New Testament, think something of the way the French greet one another. We are not in France.

No: let’s just keep this story on the simple level: a church leader saying goodbye to a church he loves. Just like Debbie and I are today.

And within that, some of the things Paul says to the Ephesian elders are things I would urge you to remember, too.

Just to keep you going in my absence, I have six things to share! But don’t worry, this isn’t a double-length sermon! I’ll keep each point brief.

Firstly: keep to the basics (verses 18-21)

Paul says he has kept to what is helpful to preach and that he has preached repentance and faith in Christ to both Jews and Greeks. While I don’t doubt he brought his great learning to bear on his treatment of the Scriptures, it’s clear he didn’t share the minutiae of some obscure PhD thesis (or the ancient equivalent). He kept things at the basic level.

It doesn’t matter how experienced we are as Christians, we often need to return to the basics rather than think we are above such things. Repentance and faith in Christ are not one-off decisions at the beginning of our Christian pilgrimage, they are lifelong practices. I suspect that the closer we get to Christ, the more we shall realise what needs changing in our lives.

It’s rather like something a wonderful Local Preacher in my home circuit used to say. “Have you been converted? I’ve been converted many times.”

Never think you are above such things. Let the Scriptures and the preaching of the Word keep bringing you back to the basics of Christian faith and living.

My home circuit once had an exhibition of resources for churches to share. My father promoted a Christian basics Bible study course. One sniffy lay leader at another church looked down his nose at it and declared, “We don’t need that stuff. We’re beyond that.” Please never take that man’s attitude.

Secondly: keep following (verses 22-24)

Paul knew he had to move on elsewhere. The Ephesians knew they had to stay put. Debbie and I know we have to move on, and most of you expect you are called to stay put.

Although the basics God calls us all to are the same, the details can be different. Be sure you know where and how God is calling you to follow him. Are you open to new ways and new surprises? Might he be moving you on? Could he be showing you something new in the place where you are?

Sometimes the basic message is to ‘Go’, as in the Great Commission of Jesus in Matthew 28. On other occasions, the command is to stay where we were when God first called us, as Paul says in 1 Corinthians 7.

Just remember, the core message of Jesus was ‘Follow me.’ Following him involves both what we do and where we do it. Could he be calling anyone here to something new or somewhere new?

What matters is that like Paul we aim to finish the task of testimony that Jesus has given us. What might that involve for you or for me?

Thirdly: keep watching (verses 25-31)

Paul calls the Ephesian elders to keep watch over the flock in place of him, who has done that by ‘proclaim[ing] … the whole will of God’ (verse 27).

That, he says, is how shepherds watch over the flock of God. They proclaim the whole will of God, because the ‘savage wolves’ (verse 29) who will come after the flock are men who ‘will arise and distort the truth in order to draw away disciples after them’ (verse 30).

So be on your guard. If anyone comes along, be they a preacher, a member of the congregation, or a friend, and urges you to do or believe something that you know is contrary to the teachings of Holy Scripture, then watch out. If you hear the seductive claims that you should follow the spirit of the age rather than the ancient wisdom handed down to us, then beware. This is how wolves snatch the sheep from the flock of God.

If they won’t accept correction, then complain to the Superintendent. Even if they are sincere rather than malicious, you still need to take action. Sincerity is not enough. I remember the story of an inquest after someone died on a hospital operating table. The anaesthetist had mistakenly administered the wrong anaesthetic, and this killed the patient. The coroner addressed the anaesthetist and said, “I have no doubt you sincerely thought you were giving the correct drug, but you were sincerely wrong, and it cost a life.”

It doesn’t matter whether someone is malicious or sincerely wrong, if they are trying to lead people down an unscriptural path they will take sheep from the flock. Keep watching.

Fourthly: keep giving (verses 32-35)

On the surface, here’s one way in which Paul practised ministry differently from us. He still engaged in his profession of tent-making, and used it to finance his ministry, which must therefore inevitably have been a part-time affair. In fact, he says he financed not only his own ministry but that of his companions, too. This model exists in Scripture alongside ones that are closer to our practice of setting ministers aside full-time.

But the point here is that we give in order to help the weak, because it is more blessed to give than to receive.

So I’m not talking about regular church weekly or monthly giving here. I’m asking that we continue to give in order to serve and bless the poor.

For example, here’s one thing I wish I’d thought of at the time. We’ve had the food bank running here for a few years now, and it’s wonderful that people from the village make contributions in the box at the Co-Op. It’s encouraging that people deposit gifts for it in the box in our foyer. It’s lovely when a local business or other organisation donates to us.

But why on earth did I not think of suggesting that we had a regular time when we as a congregation specifically gave to the food bank, more than the annual donations at harvest festival? I do know that individuals from the church family have given to it, and done so generously, but I should have thought of some way of building a rhythm of such giving into the life of the church.

We need to keep giving not just for the maintenance of the church, but so that we can bless the poor.

Fifthly: keep praying (verse 36)

Paul and the elders kneel together before he goes and he prays for them.

Here’s a thought for you: many of you will know that what I am paid is called a stipend, not a salary. Now stipend is not a religious word for a salary, it has a distinctive meaning. Whereas a salary is supposed to be a fair recompense for the job undertaken, a stipend is a living allowance. It is meant to be enough for someone to live on without being in need. The idea is that I am set free to pray. That I may prayerfully determine my priorities. That I may pray for my churches and my members. If the stipend were taken seriously, then prayer would be at the heart of what ministers do.

But we also need you to pray for us. I have been blessed over the years to have four people who have prayed daily for me. Three of them are now dead. There may be others praying for me that I don’t know about.

Prayer is not a mechanical thing that ‘works’, like pushing a button – and that’s why I don’t like the expression ‘Prayer works.’ Prayer is an expression of our relationship with our heavenly Father, and at its heart that’s what the Christian faith is – a relationship with God.

So the reason to keep praying is because it’s a fundamental expression of our faith. Prayer is not just a list of requests, although it includes that. It is time with our heavenly Father, mediated by Jesus and empowered by the Holy Spirit. Nurturing the relationship is as vital as filling up your car.

Sixthly and finally: keep loving (verses 37-38)

The weeping, kissing, and embracing tell us something about the strength of the love between Paul and the Ephesian elders.

Without love we are nothing. A church can have a mission statement but without love it is nothing. A church can have generous giving but without love it is nothing. A church can have wonderful building facilities but without love it is nothing. A church can have amazing worship music but without love it is nothing. A church can have exciting youth work but without love it is nothing.

Prioritise love for God and one another. When love grows cold, make sure you warm it up. When you fall out with one another, find ways to reconcile. When different personalities don’t understand each other, make sure you think the best of one another.

And I say this to you not because I believe love is absent here, but because it is present and you can build on it. I could think of many examples over the eight years I have been your minister, not least the way you have embraced your brothers and sisters when they have been bereaved. But one example is special to me, and that is the way you have taken my wife Debbie to your hearts.

It’s not start loving but keep loving. Not only will you make your church leaders happy, there will be joy in heaven as the Almighty and the heavenly host behold you.

A Godly Approach to Money and Possessions, Luke 12:13-21 (Ordinary 18 Year C 2022)

Luke 12:13-21

My paternal grandfather was one of eight children. There were six brothers and two sisters. By the time their parents had both died, so too had two of the brothers – they lost their lives in World War One. So when the estate came to be divided up, there were four surviving boys and the two girls.

However, the will left the estate entirely to the boys, with nothing for the girls. My grandfather thought this was unfair and said to his brothers that they should share the inheritance with their sisters.

But his brothers refused to share with their sisters. And moreover, for his troubles, my grandfather and grandmother, along with my father, who was a small boy at the time, were thrown out of the family home. They put their limited possessions in a wheelbarrow as they went to find somewhere else to live.

Where there’s a will, there’s a war.

A former Superintendent of mine told me that one skill he wasn’t trained for at college was breaking up family fights at the crematorium after a funeral.

‘Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me,’ says a member of the crowd to Jesus (verse 13).

If the person was not the eldest child, they might feel aggrieved. For in Jewish tradition the eldest son received the ‘double portion’ of the estate – twice as much as his younger siblings.

So surely this is a justice issue? And surely Jesus will speak out?

No.

Jesus knows something else is at work. Not justice, but greed.

‘Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.’ (Verse 15)

Well, how contemporary does that sound? And whether or not we are all wealthy, we are surrounded by it in our society, where much of our economy depends on people buying what they don’t need. And we’re certainly surrounded by it in Surrey, to the extent that when I first arrived in this area one of the other ministers asked at a staff meeting, ‘Is the Gospel against Surrey?’

And the indoctrination starts young. At our first Christmas here, our children felt the odd ones out because they didn’t go skiing in December. The next summer, our son was told he hadn’t had a real holiday because he hadn’t been on an aeroplane.

When we think life is about the abundance of possessions, we are saying ‘No’ to God. We are replacing the one true God with a rival false god called Mammon.

Make no mistake, a lot of the language in our society around possessions is religious. Think of all the times you have been told that a particular item is a ‘must-have’. Is it really? That’s the language worship and idolatry. God is our only must-have.

But, you say, there are certain possessions that we need in order to live and function in our world. I agree with you. We cannot live without material things. God made a material world and we are material beings. Of course we need certain things. I am not about to suggest that we should all sell up and disappear to become hermits.

It makes our use of money and possessions into a spiritual exercise. The way we use what is given to us needs to be as much a matter of prayer and discernment as anything else we do.

I want to suggest three principles we need to remember if we are to treat money and possessions in a godly way.

The first is stewardship. What do I mean by this? That what we have is not ours but on trust to us from God, and that we manage it on his behalf. I think this is the meaning of Genesis chapter 1, where God makes human beings in his image and tells them to rule over the earth. The earth does not become the possession of people, because God made it, but God makes human beings to be his stewards, his delegated managers, looking after it wisely for the Master.

You’ll notice I’m using the words ‘steward’ and ‘manager’ interchangeably. A steward is a manager. And the thing about managers is that they are not the people with final authority. They only have delegated authority from above. And that’s our position. Items do not ultimately belong to us. We manage them on behalf of our God, to whom they truly belong.

In that sense, it’s tricky even to use the word ‘possessions’, even though Jesus uses it. Because in the final analysis it is God who possesses them, not us. They are on loan to us from God, and we shall be accountable for our trust.

The farmer in Jesus’ parable takes no account of this truth. He is going to make decision about all the grain himself and for himself (verse 18).

In fact, if we’re not careful, the big problem is not that we possess things but that things possess us. How dangerous is that? We no longer have self-control, because other things control us.

And in that sense, we are involved here both in idolatry and in addiction, something the farmer accidentally confesses with his desire to ‘eat, drink and be merry’ (verse 18).

Are there any possessions in our lives where we need to hand them back to God? Do we need to say, Lord, I’m sorry that I have treated this item as if it were wholly mine. Here it is, I return it to you. If you let me keep it, I will use it for your glory.

When we came to Surrey we realised that there was a popular but expensive hobby: golf. However, I already had an expensive hobby, and that is photography. The cost of using what I consider proper equipment as opposed to a smartphone is high. It therefore means that I have to be careful with my spending on new equipment. Photographers talk about people who suffer from GAS – and before you think that’s an unfortunate antisocial bodily problem, I should tell you that GAS stands for Gear Acquisition Syndrome. Even unbelieving photographers know that the continual lust for just one more piece of equipment is misguided and dangerous. I have to be sure I am dedicating the gear I use to God and not to myself.

And that leads me to the second principle: prayer. How are we going to show we have regard for God in the use of those things he has entrusted to our care? Surely a major part of the answer is that we consult him. That means prayer. Tragically, the farmer in Jesus’ parable has no place for prayer. All he does is gather the grain for his own benefit. Think of the poor who would have suffered from not having what they needed, had this story been true.

We have a recent example of this on a major scale in our world with the Russian blockade of Ukrainian grain and the millions facing starvation as a result. That’s what happens when you think you can do what you like with worldly goods, and when your belief in God is either non-existent or mere lip service.

In some cases, God has already given us the wisdom we need in order to know what to do with material things. The Bible shows us plenty of things about his general will for life and the world.

But in other cases we need the step of discernment that prayer provides. Last week when preaching about the Lord’s Prayer I told a story about how some years ago I had been thinking about buying a computer but wasn’t sure whether to spend that large amount of money, until I received a word from God from a friend who had no idea I was contemplating this.

Recently we had to replace our big desktop computer in the study, because our old one was causing too many problems and it’s a necessary piece of equipment for my work and for modern life. But I also have a laptop computer that I take with me to meetings, and last year the manufacturer said that it was now too old for them to provide support for it if it went wrong. So I’ve researched what would be a good replacement, and I think I know.

However, even though I have looked at examples of my proposed replacement online and seen one or two go for attractive prices, I have not bought one yet. For every time I see a replacement I feel uneasy. Without a sense of peace from God I’m not happy to proceed.

Why? Prayer can make it clear it’s right to buy, it’s wrong to buy, or it’s right to wait. And that’s where I am at present, waiting. It’s God’s call, not mine. I can cope until then.

The third and final principle here is giving. In the parable, the punchline is that God castigates those who don’t give.

‘But God said to him, “You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?”

‘This is how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich towards God.’

(Verses 20-21)

‘Not rich towards God.’ Put another way, not a giver. Being rich towards God has echoes of Jesus’  language elsewhere about ‘treasures in heaven’, which we know means giving and other good deeds.

If we want a good way of dethroning Mammon in our life and worshipping the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, then giving will aid us in that goal.

Now just to raise the issue of giving is to risk navigating a tricky subject. Christians disagree about how much we should give. It’s also a sensitive issue at present with rising inflation and other bad economic conditions.

Some Christian argue we should all tithe, that is, give one tenth of our income. They usually say it should all go to the local church, and any other giving should be on top of that.

It’s tricky to translate tithing directly from the Bible, because it was not usually a tenth of income but a tenth of the crops they harvested. But what is clear is that our giving should be proportional to our income, because the Apostle Paul says as much in 2 Corinthians 9.

It’s certainly also important in biblical terms to give to the poor (or those working with them) and to the cause of Christian mission. You can see examples of these in the New Testament, notably the book of Acts but also in some of the instructions the Apostle Paul gives to those early churches in his letters.

Forgive me for not giving you a simple answer. I would simply say that giving is part of our stewardship and must also be approached in prayer. Just make sure that in praying about your giving you are not saying, ‘How little can I get away with giving?’ but ‘How much can I give?’ The former would be like the farmer; the latter would be like a Christian disciple.

Passion Sunday: Framed By The Cross, John 12:1-8 (Lent 5 Year C 2022)

John 12:1-8

You don’t have to be around my family long to find those of us who are passionate about photography. My daughter and I share a love for it, and it all began with my late father. He wanted to document his time doing National Service with the RAF and got the bug there. Belatedly, at the age of 21, I caught it off him. In his later years, few things gave him greater pleasure when we were with him than seeing our daughter’s latest photos.

So when Dad died, one of the things we spent some money from his estate on was a family portrait session at a studio we knew of in a nearby village. After the session, Debbie and I returned to the studio a week or two later to choose the photos we wanted.

But it wasn’t just about choosing the photos: we also had to pick frames for them from a selection we were offered. Some choices were easier than others: a portrait of our dog, who is predominantly black in colour, was paired with a black frame. It wasn’t always as straightforward as that, as we considered both the content of the photo and the colour of the wall where it would hang.

Our reading today has a frame. At the top and the bottom, the beginning and the end, we find the Cross of Christ. We have it in the beginning with the reference ‘Six days before the Passover’ (verse 1). For in chapter 19, as the Passover lambs die, so too will Jesus (John 19:14), the Lamb of God (John 1:29). Then near the end, Jesus says that Mary anointed him for his burial (verse 7). Who knows, perhaps she took what was left of the perfume she used here to the tomb.

The Cross frames our story. What Jesus has recently done for the siblings Lazarus, Martha, and Mary by raising Lazarus from the dead (verse 1) will be ratified by the Cross. Ultimately, it is the source of all our blessings.

And within that frame, we see in Lazarus, Martha, and Mary fitting responses to all that Jesus has done for them. The brother and his two sisters are all here examples of responding to the grace of God. They are examples of true disciples.

So in what ways do they respond to Jesus, and what can we learn from them?

Martha is first up in the text. John writes of her, ‘Martha served’ (verse 2).

This is very different in tone from Luke’s story of Martha and Mary (Luke 10:38-42), where we read that Martha was ‘distracted by serving’. Here it’s different. She is serving as her way of playing a part in honouring Jesus with this dinner.

Jesus had raised Lazarus back to life with no pre-conditions, but here is the natural response of someone like Martha. What can she do in gratitude? She can serve Jesus. On the surface it’s just a meal, but in John’s Gospel where even the most literal things are also symbolic, we see here an important spiritual principle for all of us.

We too have freely received from Jesus without any preconditions. He went to the Cross for us and offered us the forgiveness of sins. We owe him everything – and we cannot pay it. But we can offer to serve him in grateful response for all he has done for us. If we truly count our blessings we don’t merely end up writing a religious shopping list. Instead the cumulative effect of all those blessings is for us to say, ‘How can we show our gratitude?’

Serving Jesus is an obvious way to show our gratitude for the Cross and all it contains. And so we ask questions in prayer: ‘What do you need me to do, Lord? What would please you?’

Sometimes it will be obvious what we can do. There will be a presenting need. At other times we need to wait and seek God in prayer to know how he would like us to serve him. When the answer comes, it may be something we find pleasing or it may be something we find difficult.

It comes back to the Covenant Service, doesn’t it? ‘Christ has many services to be done. Some are easy, others are hard.’ For me, responding to the call to ministry was part of my way of serving Jesus in response to all he has done. Sometimes it’s rewarding and thrilling, but on other occasions it’s dull, depressing, or even frightening. But I carry on because this is a way in which Christ has shown me (and the Church) that I can serve him in response to his great love for me.

Can each of us name ways in which we are called to serve Christ in response to his grace and mercy to us?

Lazarus is next. ‘Lazarus was among those reclining at table with [Jesus]’ (verse 2)

‘Reclining at table’? Put out of your mind a typical dining table. In particular, stop thinking about Leonardo da Vinci’s painting of the Last Supper, where it looks like Jesus and the disciples are sitting down to a meal in the way we would.

Instead, remember that a Middle Eastern table was close to the floor. In order to eat, you would lie with your head near the table and your legs away, supporting yourself on your left elbow while using your right hand to take food. That is what ‘reclining at table’ was like.

And the point here isn’t that Lazarus is lazily enjoying the food and the company while the women slave in a hot kitchen. It’s more that this is a picture of intimacy. Perhaps on a day when we celebrate Holy Communion, intimacy at a meal table has special significance.

And so again, we have a response to what Jesus has done here. Jesus has brought his friend Lazarus back to life. In response, Lazarus wants to get close to him. You can imagine that Lazarus will be getting to know his friend Jesus better as they eat together.

We too can draw near to Jesus in response to all the wonderful things he has done for us. Don’t we want to know someone like that better? This is why we pray. This is why we read our Bibles. This is why we gather for worship. This is why we eat in his presence, not only in ordinary meals but also at the Lord’s Supper. It’s all about getting to know better the One who has been so full of love for us, sinners that we are.

Sometimes when a preacher reminds us to pray, read our Bibles, worship, and take the sacraments it sounds like a sergeant-major barking orders. But that isn’t the reason for doing these things. All these so-called ‘means or grace’ (or in other traditions ‘spiritual disciplines’) are there as ways of coming close to Jesus.

So I’m not going to harangue you today about your personal devotions. But I am going to say this: let’s ponder all that Jesus has done for us, and let that motivate us to use the means he has provided to come close to him.

Finally, the star of the show (well, apart from Jesus, of course): Mary. We know how Mary responds to all Jesus has done for her, Martha, and Lazarus:

Then Mary took about half a litre of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. (Verse 3)

If Martha responds by serving and Lazarus by intimacy, then Mary responds by giving. Her giving is generous and perhaps sacrificial. But it is so beautiful that ‘the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.’

That’s what true giving from the heart to Jesus in response to his love is like. There is a beauty about it. Mary is not paying a tax. Nor is she settling a bill. She is responding from the heart to the grace and mercy of Jesus. And everyone present can smell the fragrance.

Not only that, but we can also say her giving is prophetic. In the next chapter of John’s Gospel, Jesus will wash his disciples’ feet. But Jesus’ own feet don’t get a wash. Not that he needed to be washed clean of sin, of course. But his feet have already been washed here by Mary, who has anointed him for burial (verse 7) after the Cross.

The one who doesn’t understand this is Judas, whom John tells us is a taker to the point of being a thief (verses 4-6) rather than a giver.

Now when Christians give, we do not ultimately give to the church, we give to Jesus. When we give, we do not pay a subscription that entitles us to benefits from the church, we give as an act of gratitude and worship because Jesus has done so much for us and our lives are framed by his Cross. Some of you will recall that’s why I never refer to ‘the collection’ in a service: I talk about ‘the offering.’

I know I’m saying this at a time when giving of the financial kind is especially hard. Inflation is at its worst for thirty years and is poised to get worse; and on Friday we saw our energy bills leap by 54%.

But nevertheless we can ask the general question about giving. And we ask it not in a way that is designed to inflict guilt on people: rather, we say, have we truly taken into our hearts and minds the lavish and outrageous grace of God in Christ who went to the Cross for us? Have we caught a vision of just how much God loves us? In gratitude, what can we give of our money, time, talents, possessions, indeed of our very lives?

Can we make the atmosphere fragrant with the scent of our giving?

So – Passion Sunday, when we start to see that the Cross of Jesus frames not just this reading but our whole lives: can we sense how broad and deep and high the love of God for us is in Christ?

And if we can, then like Martha can we show our gratitude in serving, like Lazarus can we show our love in drawing close to Jesus, and like Mary can we demonstrate our response to that love in generous giving?

Orbiting The Son, Mark 12:38-44 (Ordinary 32 Year B)

Sorry, the out of focus problem is back – I thought I had all the settings correct to record myself!

Mark 12:38-44

The new pastor of a large independent church invited all the other local ministers to attend a concert being given at his church by a well-known Christian musician. He invited us not only to the concert, but to come and eat with the musician beforehand.

At the time I was single, and the thought of not having to cook and wash up for myself for an evening was appealing, so I went along beforehand. We had a very agreeable time over food, and then when it was time for the concert itself I noticed some people from one of my churches arriving and taking up some seats on the back row, so I went to join them.

After the gig, the pastor expressed surprise that I had sat at the back. “I had a seat for you on the platform with me,” he said. I replied that was very kind of him, but really there were times when I felt I was up front in the public eye more than enough, and it was a pleasant change for me as a minister to sit at the back.

Later events were to show that that incident was merely the tip of the iceberg when it came to the pastor’s attitudes. A few years later, his ministry at that church fell to pieces over issues surrounding the unholy trinity of money, sex, and power.

It’s so dangerous to invest our status, identity, and security in the wrong things.

And that’s what our reading is about today. I know I’m often critical of the way the Lectionary selects verses, but not this time. I find it helpful the way we get to read these two separate incidents together, because they both have a similar theme. I’m used to hearing the story of the widow’s mite on its own, but to hear it alongside Jesus’ earlier condemnation of religious leaders is illuminating.

Both of these stories show people with power and authority seeking a sense of status from public acclaim.

In the first story, the teachers of the law (who were not necessarily wealthy, well-paid religious leaders) enjoyed drawing attention to themselves by dressing in a special way and looking important in the synagogue and at banquets. They would have been on the platform at the concert I attended.

Me, me, me. Look at me, they say. It’s a warped and dangerous approach to power and authority, so far from the servant model that Jesus taught.

And because their approach to power and authority deviates from the way of Jesus, it becomes a dangerous exercise. When it’s all about me getting the attention, then the power available also gets used for – guess who? – Me.

We get a flavour of this when Jesus says,

40 They devour widows’ houses and for a show make lengthy prayers. These men will be punished most severely.

Jesus knew what he was talking about. The Jewish historian

Josephus (Ant. 18.81-84) tells of a Jewish scoundrel exiled to Rome who affected the ways of a scribe (“he played the part of an interpreter of the Mosaic law and its wisdom”) and succeeded in persuading a high-standing woman named Fulvia to make substantial gifts to the temple in Jerusalem. The bequests, however, were embezzled, and Rome – from Emperor Tiberius on to plebs in the street – was outraged.[1]

Since the scribes were largely dependent on gifts from worshippers and benefactors for their livelihood this would be like a minister today finding a way to exploit congregational giving to feather his own nest.

We may not all have a position of power and influence, but we all need to take heed of the dangers of wanting the attention to be on ourselves. What we see here is that when that happens, corruption follows.

We need to remember the way of Jesus, which is to be a servant, not an attention-seeker.

Each Sunday when I’m at Byfleet there is a small way in which I try to remind you and myself about that important truth. You will have noticed that at the end of the service I don’t process out down the centre aisle. I sneak off round the side, saying a quick thank-you to Vaughan or Peter on the laptop and to Adrian on the organ. I don’t want you at the end of the service to be thinking about the person who led you in worship; I want you to be thinking about the object of our worship, Almighty God.

What can you do to remind yourself Jesus is the centre of attention in the Christian life, not you?

In the second story, the crowds are depositing their gifts for the Temple at the treasury. But some are making a flamboyant song and dance of it:

Many rich people threw in large amounts. (Verse 41b)

Why throw the money into the receptacle unless you want to be ostentatious about your giving? Once again, it’s a case of ‘Look at me!’ Those looking on are meant to think, ‘Wow, what wonderfully generous people!”

Again, the concern is to bolster up one’s personal image. These are people who feel good about themselves when other people praise them.

I can’t help thinking that these people would be the sort who today would turn up on a TV telethon like Children In Need or Comic Relief with an oversized cheque clearly bearing their name or their company’s name, because they’re less interested in helping the cause than in getting their name before the public and gaining publicity for themselves.

It’s the widow who shows true faith in this story, of course. Hear again Jesus’ estimation of her when she contributes ‘two of the smallest coins in circulation’[2]:

43 Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, ‘Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. 44 They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything – all she had to live on.’

What’s the difference between the widow and the wealthy? The widow puts her whole life in the hands of God. The wealthy keep control for themselves.

Thus, it’s the widow who shows what discipleship is like, according to Jesus. True faith is not a lifestyle option from the glossy magazines with the Sunday papers. It is not a deluxe extra specification on your car. True faith is to say to Jesus, here I am with all that I am and all that I have. I put it all in your nail-scarred hands to do with as you see fit.

The widow would ask us whether we have put our entire lives at the disposal of our Lord. It’s a life of sacrifice in response to the One who would lay down his own life very soon. Just as astronomers discovered that the Sun does not orbit the earth but rather the earth orbits the Sun, so the widow teaches us that we are not at the centre where the brightest and best orbit us. Rather, we orbit the Son – the Son of God.

And as these two episodes conclude, so also concludes Mark’s account of Jesus’ public ministry. Everything else will be behind closed doors or in secluded places. What are we like where no-one else sees us?

In such locations, we cannot be attention-seekers. In such places, we are challenged to remember that we make Jesus the centre of attention, not ourselves, and that as he laid down his life for us so we lay our lives before him to be used as he pleases.

Let us always remember that we orbit the Son, not vice-versa.


[1] James R Edwards, The Gospel According To Mark, p379.

[2] Ibid., p381.

Sermon: The Aroma Of Extravagance

John 12:1-11

During our first summer as ministerial students, the college sent us all out on six-week placements in circuits. Because I came from an urban area of London not known for its wealth, I was not exposed to poverty as some students were. Instead of ‘Mission Alongside the Poor’, as a certain church campaign of the time was known, I was sent on what amounted to ‘Mission Alongside the Rich’ in Surrey. (So perhaps it was a good experience for our forthcoming move to that county!)

The church was large, and well-to-do. When I heard what the weekly offerings averaged, they dwarfed my home church.

Until I did some Maths, that is. I realised that in this wealthy church, the average giving per member per week was exactly the same as in my home church. It didn’t seem quite so impressive then.

It was a story that came back to mind this week as I read the account of Mary lavishing her expensive perfume on Jesus.

Imagine you are in the house where the incident happened. The first thing that would strike you would most likely be the aroma. A strong, pervasive smell has a powerful effect upon people.

When I visited the Holy Land on a special trip for theological and ministerial students, we were a mixed bag ecumenically, from free church types to bells and smells. One of our number was an Indian. He was a Syrian Orthodox priest who had been studying in the UK. One evening he took prayers in the chapel at the institute where we were based. Before the service began, the pungent smell of incense from the censers filled the chapel. I found it so overpowering that I couldn’t stay for the service. As a result, a friend dubbed me ‘low church by reason of allergy’!

But other smells greatly appeal to me. Freshly baked bread. Our breadmaker has languished in the garage during our Chelmsford sojourn, but to set it to work overnight and come down in the morning to that aroma was a joy. Maybe in the new house?

I think we are meant to understand the aroma of Mary’s perfume as a beautiful sensory experience in this story. It contrasts with the stench present elsewhere. Firstly, it stands over against the thought of Jesus’ death. He says that

She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial (verse 7)

And you can see why it would be a contrast. The beauty of the perfume counters the smell of a corpse as it degrades. Remember that when Jesus brought Mary’s brother Lazarus back to life four days after his death, people were fearful of the smell that would emanate from the tomb. But here, the beauty of Mary’s act symbolically says that death will not end in defeat. Decay will not have the final word.

After all, Mary has only recently had a glimpse of what that might be, through the miracle of her brother’s return to life. In that story we learn that she and her sister already believe in the Jewish doctrine of the resurrection of the dead at the last judgment, but Jesus tells them he himself is ‘the Resurrection and the Life’, and then they witness him calling Lazarus from his tomb as a foretaste of what is to come. She may not have grasped that Jesus will be raised on the third day after his forthcoming execution any more than any of his disciples had, but she has had this glimpse of the kingdom coming. And the aroma of a perfume that quenches the stench of death is a suitable symbol. For that is what Jesus will bring to all who follow him.

Therefore we his disciples know here – as in so many places – that we need not be dismayed or discouraged by the prospect of death. There is plenty of stench around it for us, as we watch people suffer, or as we hear the taunts of militant atheists. But we have smelt a beautiful perfume – the Resurrection of Jesus – and we face death and suffering differently because of it.

That isn’t the only way in which the beautiful aroma of Mary’s perfume contrasts with a foul smell in the story, however. The miserable words of Judas, in despising her devotion, are words that stink, particularly when we hear what his heart was like when it came to money:

“Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) (Verses 5-6)

He hides behind a moral reason, but he isn’t going to get his hands on Mary’s cash, because it’s been spent on the perfume. It’s no surprise his loyalty will soon be bought for thirty pieces of silver. The perfume seems to represent the beauty of Mary’s devoted heart, in contrast to the polluted heart of Judas. Its beautiful smell here, then, becomes a warning that it is worth us examining our own hearts for unworthy motives that might grow into disloyalty to Christ. The story calls us to simple, whole-hearted commitment to our Lord.

Then there is the stench of the chief priests, so angry that people are beginning to follow Jesus because he raised Lazarus that at this point they don’t merely plan Jesus’ death, they plan an execution for Lazarus (verses 9-11). Here too are poisoned hearts, experienced religious people whose commitment has been twisted from the kingdom of God to personal empires. Why else would they be worried about desertions to Jesus? It’s like the spiteful comments you hear about different Christians and their churches in some parts of our religious world. Again, the contrast is with a woman who – by virtue of her sex – will not have had the education of these chief priests, yet she can outshine their commitment in one simple, beautiful act. All of which should make us pause to consider what our priorities are.

The second aspect of this story I’d like us to consider is that which strikes us so powerfully apart from the aroma. It’s the extravagance of Mary’s gesture. Her extravagance shocked people then, just as extravagant acts of devotion to Christ shock religious people today.

For example, you have heard me talk about a project I was involved in ten years ago. An Anglican rector I worked with in the last circuit had a vision for celebrating the Millennium. He wanted all the churches in Medway to close and gather together in Gillingham FC’s Priestfield Stadium to worship Jesus. I was one of a number of local church leaders who were willingly co-opted onto the planning group for the project.

From beginning our plans to the date of the event was two and a half years. We held a morning service with an orchestra formed from local Christians and masterminded by a local Salvation Army musician. The late Rob Frost came to preach. We brought a Ugandan gospel choir over to sing (and tour Kent). In the afternoon and evening we planned a concert with leading Christian musicians such as Noel Richards, Ishmael and Phatfish, with Roger Forster as the preacher. In the event, about two and a half thousand people attended that concert, and in the morning six and a half thousand local Christians gathered for worship. Of the ninety churches in the area, over seventy closed their doors that Sunday morning for that united service. A few insisted on keeping their doors open, one at least saying they were doing so ‘in case a visitor turned up’.

The budget was somewhere around two hundred thousand pounds. Fifty thousand pounds of that was for a special covering over the pitch to protect it, which we had to hire from Wembley Stadium. The debt was not cleared by the day of the event – that took the best part of a further year.

Some scoffed at this enterprise, and some of the reasons given – apart from the church that wanted to stay open for the mythical visitor – were rather like Judas Iscariot’s protests about giving money to the poor. But my rector friend kept coming back to this story: sometimes it is simply the right thing to make an extravagant act of devotion to Jesus Christ as a sign of our love for him. It is one aspect of loving the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength.

We do not stint from showing extravagant love to other human beings on certain occasions. I was utterly moved by the gifts and special things arranged by Debbie and my children for my recent fiftieth birthday. In one respect they really didn’t need to do it, and I would certainly have been happy with less than what they did. Yet somehow the fact that they went to such expense and effort was a touching sign of their love. Might something a little bit similar be true of our relationship with God?

Maybe part of the problem is that extravagant giving and devotion challenges us. The other day, I was reading another minister’s blog. She was reflecting on this passage, and included a powerful story. She told of a grumpy missionary surgeon who was invited to lunch by a lady on whom he had operated. The woman and her husband were poor. They owned an angora rabbit and two chickens. The woman combed the rabbit for hair and span it to sell for income, and their diet was the eggs from the two chickens. What went in the pot for the meal? The rabbit and the two chickens. Truly a ‘widow’s mite’ story, and also one of extravagant love, just as Mary spent a year’s income on the perfume (verse 5).

And I think the reason these examples are challenges to us is that they make us feel uncomfortable about our own grudging love for Jesus Christ. How many times have I heard people with an amazing testimony to God’s forgiving and transforming grace be dismissed as nutters or patronised as immature by other Christians? Too often, I’m afraid. Is Judas alive and kicking in some church circles? I fear he is.

What’s the difference between extravagant Mary and her detractors? Mary has not lost her simple, passionate devotion to Jesus who will die for her and be raised from the dead for her. Judas may well have started out with a commitment to following Jesus, but he found other things more attractive – money, for one. The chief priests have become devoted to religion and the institution, much in the same way that many of us become caught up with maintaining a building.

All of which amounts to a warning for many of us. Mary’s despisers were consumed with the very things that dominate our thinking at Church Councils and the like – finances and institutional matters. But Mary kept the main thing the main thing. For her, faith and live were about unswerving devotion to Jesus. May that be true of us, also.

How To Celebrate Your Birthday

Tomorrow, I shall do something I never achieved when batting at cricket. I shall reach a half century. After receiving an email from the Causes application on Facebook, I wondered about asking my friends to donate to a good cause. To cut a long story short, I couldn’t find any of the officially supported causes that would be just right.

However, here is a fantastic story of a man (admittedly with more abilities and connections than me) who was inspired to do something amazing for others through social media when he reached forty. Read the story of Danny Brown and be inspired. There is no hint this guy is a Christian, but there is so much we could learn from him.

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