Monday, 15 January 2024

Come and See

 1 Samuel 3.1-10 Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.

John 1.43-51 Come and see, we have found the Messiah

 

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‘I have found something. I have found something so amazing, so life changing, so wonderful, that I just can’t keep it to myself. Come with me and see what it is.’

 

If I said that to you I wonder how would you respond?

 

If I said it was gold I had found, would you come with me?

 

If I said it was the most beautiful landscape or view in the world, would you come with me?

 

If I said it was the most amazing person, would you come with me?

 

And the other way round, if you had found something amazing, life changing, wonderful, would you be the one saying, ‘come with me and see what it is’?

 

It’s precisely what happened to Philip and Nathanael, not the most prominent of the disciples, by the Sea of Galilee.

 

Philip was called by Jesus Christ, and the first thing he felt compelled to do was to tell Nathanael who was, perhaps, his friend or colleague or brother: it doesn’t matter really, Philip just wanted to tell him.

 

And Philip’s invitation is ‘come and see’.

 

And the great thing is that Nathanael went and saw.

 

What Nathanael went to see was the fulfilment of all their hopes, the fulfilment of the deepest desires and dreams of their hearts: they had found the One who was utterly amazing, wonderful and life changing.

 

They’d found the promised Messiah of God.

 

The evangelical life, that is to say the life of living out and sharing the Good News (the evangelion, in Greek), is exactly this process of discovering something wonderful and of sharing the invitation.

 

That’s the Philip bit: ‘I’ve found it, come and see’.

 

The success of the evangelical life, if success is the word, is for the response to be for the other person to go and see: that’s the Nathanael bit.

 

The word ‘evangelical’ can be attached to a party or group in the Church, and you might say, ‘I’m not one of those’, but actually we are all called to be evangelical: our Christian life is incomplete if we do not say to others ‘come and see’.

 

Does that make you uncomfortable?

 

Does that excite you?

 

It certainly should make you re-examine the fundamentals of what faith is about: after all, Jesus’ Great Commission at the end of St Matthew’s Gospel is ‘Go therefore and make disciples of all nations…’

 

Going and telling, sharing and inviting is at the heart of what Christian disciples do.

 

I wonder, when did you last invite your ‘Nathanael’ – a friend, a colleague, brother, sister, son, daughter, spouse – to church, to ‘come and see’ Jesus Christ?

 

And why wouldn’t you?

 

Each of us baptised as a Christian has been commissioned to be a Philip, someone who knows Jesus Christ as amazing, wonderful and life-changing.

 

Similarly, my task as a priest is to be a ‘Philip’ to you and to wider society.

 

The priest, the baptised Christian, who does not do this - looking out for Christ, inviting others to Christ - is an Eli, as in our first reading.

 

It said that Eli’s eyesight ‘had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, [and he] was lying down in his room’ (1 Samuel 3.2).

 

This is not a moment for Specsavers. It is talking about his spiritual eyesight, his capacity to get up and see the presence of God.

 

Eli is the person for whom the light had shone but now is dimmed, flickering and dull. He is the grain of wheat that shot up and is now wilting (cf The Parable of the Sower).

 

An Eli is the person who came to church but has lost his sense of what it’s about, who has got cosy, who can’t see and can’t respond to the word and will of God. That becomes spiritually corrosive to the individual - they become grumpy, gripey, obstructive and joyless, always suspicious and jaded – and that is spiritually corrosive to the church community too.

 

Yet, when we read on, in the book of Samuel it says, ‘the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was (1 Samuel 3.3).

 

That means that ‘the light still shines in the darkness’ and Samuel’s eyes and ears are open, ready to see the light and hear God’s gracious call, even if the Elis of this world can’t, won’t or don’t.

 

Samuel has placed himself in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was: he is nestled in God’s presence, incubating his faith ready for God to call, and when God calls, Samuel, in the example of all the great saints and believers down the ages says, ‘Here am I. I am listening (1 Samuel 3.9). Let it be unto me according to thy word’ (Luke 1.38).

 

Samuel saw - his eyes were open to God - as were Philip’s, as were Nathanael’s, as weren’t Eli’s.

 

Speaking for my own life as a Christian with you and priest for you, I have to speak and live the words I began with, ‘I have found something. I have found something so amazing, so life changing, so wonderful, that I just can’t keep it to myself. Come with me and see what it is.’

 

This happens in preaching: preaching should always be an invitation to come and see.

 

This happens in the Eucharist: the Eucharist is always an invitation to the hospitality of God, to come and taste and see.

 

For when people come and see their eyes are opened, their hearts are warmed, their souls are saved.

 

So let’s all be Philips and Philippas, inviting others to come and see what we have seen in Christ.

 

Let’s all be Nathanaels, and whatever the female equivalent of that name is, let’s come and see and encounter Jesus Christ.

 

That gets us to him and, you know, the even more wonderful thing is when we meet him he says, ‘you’ve seen nothing yet! This is but the beginning: ‘truly, truly I say to you, you will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man’ (John 1.51)

 

Now that’s something to come and see!

Monday, 8 January 2024

The Spirit moves over the waters

Genesis 1.1-5 In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

Acts 19.1-7 They were baptised in the name of the Lord Jesus

Mark 1.4-11 ‘You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased’.

 

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth… And the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

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‘In the beginning…’

These words opened our Christmas gospel, as St John unfolded the mystery of the Incarnation and asserted that, in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, is the fullness of the presence of God, the Creator of all that is.

These words also open the very Bible itself, the Book of Genesis, which we heard in our first reading.

The phrase ‘in the beginning’ is the golden thread that links the Gospel to the Creation: after all, the Gospel unfolds the New Creation in Christ.

‘In the beginning’, as related by Genesis, the primordial waters of the Creation swirl and swell: ‘The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep’. (Genesis 1.2a)

In scripture such waters speak of chaos and danger.

The Hebrew word is ‘Tohu Va-Vohu’ (תהו ובהו)

Lashing rain, the present flooding, the storms along our coastline, and such like, remind us that water unleashed is not benign, but is, as in the flood of Noah, powerful and destructive.

The Great Flood ends with the dove over the waters, with an olive branch in its beak and a rainbow in the sky: hence the prayer that God would ‘drown sin in the waters of judgement’.

And recall, the Holy Spirit, in the form of a dove, descended on Jesus in the waters of the Jordan: connect that with Genesis, ‘the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters’. (Genesis 1.2b)

The Creator God, in Christ, steps into the chaos and danger, into situations of darkness, turmoil and doubt and the Creator Spirit descends to bring purpose, creativity, beauty and life.

The Spirit brings order to the chaos so that the Creation unfolds with purpose.

So we can say God’s Creation is not a meaningless soup of random happenings, not a ‘Tohu Va-Vohu’, but a gift of life, in which is revealed the face of God: the formless void is given form and is filled by the Creator Spirit.

In the spiritual life - our life committed to Christ - we should invoke the Holy Spirit to guide us through the turbulent waters of life, as we whisper in prayer: ‘Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, and lighten with celestial fire…’

This takes us, then, to the River Jordan.

In that river John had been baptising and using its waters to wash away sin for those who came to repent, those who wished to redirect mind, body and spirit away from the formless void of life without God, and find their lives healed, forgiven and restored.

Into that water steps the creator and true redeemer.

Jesus Christ plunges into the waters, signifying the New Creation to be inaugurated in human lives when joined with the life of the Holy Trinity.

This is the root of our forgiveness; the depths of his love.

As the Spirit moved over the face of the waters so the same Spirit descends upon Christ in the Jordan and the Father speaks - again.

In the beginning he spoke the words ‘let there be light’ now he declares to Jesus, ‘You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.”

The Baptism of the Lord inaugurates the New Creation.

And we are drawn into this New Creation through Christ, in the power of the Spirit.

By our own baptism we are plunged into the destructive-creative waters: waters that destroy sin and grant life.

So baptism is a gift and challenge.

It is open to all, yet it is also disruptive and purging.

It is a free gift, but not to be treated cheaply;.

This is the warning to us of what we heard from the Acts of the Apostles: don’t cheapen your baptism, but inhabit it, fulfil it, embrace it.

If we think baptism is a splash in some water and a nice symbol - as clearly some concluded, even from the baptism of John - then we find that the Holy Spirit of God demands more of us, drives us and confirms us in our faith.

When we leave the Holy Spirit out of our lives as disciples of Jesus Christ we make a mockery of the faith entrusted to us by the saints and we are destined to be tossed around in the ‘Tohu Va-Vohu’, the dark, swirling waters.

The Baptism of the Lord tells us that our own baptism is at the confluence of two mighty rivers: of repentance and of the strengthening Spirit.

It is where the nature of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity is revealed - Father, Son and Holy Spirit - and where we are incorporated into God’s life.

To be a Christian is to overcome, with Christ, the swirling waters of the ‘Tohu Va-Vohu’: anticipated by Jonah whose three days in the belly of the great fish prefigure Christ’s resurrection; like the disciples when the storm is stilled (Mark 4.39); like Peter who is commanded to ‘put out into the deep and let down your nets’ (Luke 5.4) so that the waters of creation are not a terror but fill the nets of our lives like the nets teeming with fish; revealed by Christ himself who walks on the waters and is not consumed by them (Matthew 14.25).

Let us pray, as we seek to be faithful to the implications of our own baptism, that the Holy Spirit would descend on us as we struggle in the swirling waters of life with our fragile grasp of faith, so that in the Name of Jesus we may hear the call of the Father, as did the Sinless One at Jordan’s River.