Paying homage: offering worship

Preached as a sermon at Croydon Minster on Sunday 5 January, 2020, kept as the Feast of the Epiphany, readings: Isaiah 60.1-6; Matthew 2.1-12.

‘On entering the house, they saw the child and Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage’ (Matthew 2.11)

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Familiar yet strange. The account of the journey and arrival of the Magi at the stable of Bethlehem, is both a very familiar scene and a rather strange one.

The very familiarity of the scene of the Magi entering the birthplace of Jesus, as represented in our crib, can make us miss some of the things that are going on and the things our imaginations add in.

For a start, the child is not a 10 day old new-born by the time the Magi arrive; the shepherds have long gone; St Matthew’s Gospel does not give us a number of how many Magi there were, although we know there were three gifts; the Magi are not actually described as Kings.

Being familiar with a scene also means we miss things that are there in the text. And tucked away in St Matthew’s account of the Magi is a little word that is really quite significant in the passage, appearing, as it does, three times.

The Magi say to King Herod: ‘Where is this child who has been born King of the Jews? For we have observed his star at its rising and we have come to pay him homage’ (Matt 2.2)

Herod responds: ‘Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage’ (Matt 2.8)

St Matthew describes: ‘On entering the house, they saw the child and with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage’ (Matt 2.11)

The recurring word is homage. Homage is a rather strange word for us today. It tends not to trip off the tongue or be used in ordinary speech.

It’s a word that seemingly belongs to medieval novels or Arthurian legend, with liege men paying homage to their lord or king. It lingers on in the British coronation rite when the bishops and lords pay homage to the newly crowned Sovereign.

But, as is the way when we read the scriptures in translation, we find that the original word used conveys something different and, usually, something more.

The word in the original Greek text of St Matthew’s Gospel is proskuneo. St Matthew’s Gospel, like St John’s, uses it a great deal, in different contexts.

The literal root meaning of proskuneo is ‘to kiss toward’. From there the term developed the sense ‘to fall down or prostrate oneself’ (as in kissing the ground), and hence ultimately ‘to worship’ or ‘adore.’

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The Magi arrive in Jerusalem at a royal palace; the natural place to look for a king to whom to pay homage: except this is the palace of a tyrannical, sadistic, puppet king, Herod, not the newly born king of the Jews. They’re in the wrong place; their expectations are off beam.

There is no reason to assume they consider Jesus anything more than a king. The proskuneo they want to pay is homage in the sense of acknowledging a royal presence.

Herod’s expressed desire to perform proskuneo is not a respectful, stooping kiss towards Jesus; but rather than infanticidal lunge to kill him. The only echo of a kiss in Herod’s desire is akin to Judas’s death kiss that consigns Jesus to arrest and trial.

So far, then, the homage of the Magi and of Herod is an empty gesture of ingratiation and nothing more.

But there is a transformation. Something moves the Magi’s proskuneo from courtly homage to reverent, worshipful devotion.

And Herod gave the game away. He asked the scribes and priests about the Messiah. For the first time the Magi heard of the promise of the One True God - the King of kings and Lord of lords - as articulated in scripture by the prophet Micah. This was the promise that the Messiah would arise in Bethlehem. The star told them about a king, the prophet told them about a promise they had never known before.

The Magi were to find something for which they had not knowingly been looking, but which their hearts longed and ached for: the Hope of the Nations, of every race and people and not solely the people of Israel.

That’s why the Book of Common Prayer calls the feast of the Epiphany, ‘The Manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles’. That’s why today is a day when we should pray for spiritual seekers, that they may find the desire of their restless hearts in the Living God.

This is the attractive and attracting light of God, of which Isaiah speaks in our first reading: ‘nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn. (Isaiah 60.3). This light transforms; this light converts; this light warms hearts.

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‘On entering the house, [the Magi] saw the child and Mary his mother; and they knelt down and did him proskuneo’ (Matthew 2.11)

Entering a house, not a palace, and seeing a child with his unsophisticated mother, far from home and with no regal trappings, completed their transformation.

The expectation of the Magi, the spiritual seekers, is transformed. If they were seeking a king of the Herod mould, then Jesus was not it: courtly homage would be pointless.

So the Magi kneel, fall down, prostrate themselves, showering kisses before offering any of their gifts: of gold, frankincense or myrrh.

That is our primary proskuneo to open the treasure chest of our hearts. I know as I have got to know people here that there are many treasures to our Christ. For some it may feel that the lid hasn’t been opened for a while, is a bit creaky, but still we open it up. We open the treasure chest to give and to receive.

The Magi first give proskuneo to the King of kings. And so can we! As Christ, manifest in the sacrament, in bread and wine, is held before us we sink to our knees to receive him; receiving his offering of himself to, and for, us.

Falling to our knees in adoration, bending our hearts in devotion is not a transaction but an act of love. We don’t pay homage to Christ; we offer and give worship to him. It’s what prompts St Paul’s magnificent assertion that, ‘At the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth’ (Philippians 2.10).

May we bend our knees and hearts in adoration, hope and love.

Standing up straight & praising God

Preached as sermon at Croydon Minster on Sunday 25 August, Tenth Sunday after Trinity.

‘When Jesus laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God’ (Luke 13.12)

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This morning’s gospel reading tells us about an encounter that is both beautiful and disturbing at the same time.

Beautiful: because in it a woman who has been bowed down for eighteen years regains her stature and dignity of herself in in the sight of others.

Disturbing: because the reaction to this act of restoration and healing sparks indignation from those who should be most joyful that another human being has her dignity restored.

The woman typifies those who are bent over and weighed down, physically yes, but psychologically or spiritually too. This isn’t just physical: how often are the physically afflicted spiritually upright?!

This crippling aliment, described as a ‘spirit’ by St Luke, but not defined by him, has oppressed her for eighteen years.

The period of eighteen years will have had interesting connotations for the people gathered in that synagogue on that Sabbath Day.

In the book of Judges it was for eighteen years that the Israelites had to serve the foreign king Eglon of Moab (Judges 3.14) and for eighteen years the foreign Ammonite kingdom ‘crushed and oppressed’ the Israelites (Judges 10.8). The number eighteen is associated with oppression and being crushed down.

Intriguingly also, according to the Jewish numerological tradition, the number eighteen also signifies ‘life’, ‘alive’ or ‘living creature’.

So a woman oppressed for eighteen years, becomes a newly ‘living creature’ who can stand up straight and praise God.

Beautiful.

The fact this took place on the Sabbath Day is also deeply resonant and filled with meaning.

Observing the Sabbath is a good thing. A day of rest, a day when the pace of life changes, a day to know the gift of life; a day to honour God our Creator: it is telling that our society in all its turmoil and dis-ease neglects Sabbath.

But we miss the point of Sabbath if, like the synagogue leader, we cannot show mercy and loving kindness on that day. If we cannot show it on that day can we ever show it on the other six?

The Creation begins on the first day as God says ‘let there be light’ (Genesis 1.3) and unfolds over six days. The Sabbath is the seventh day of the week when God rested, seeing that all was good.

Yet the creation is marred and disfigured. People are oppressed, bowed down externally and internally, physically and mentally, and in the words of the hymn ‘Just as I am, without one plea’, we come to Jesus, the Lamb of God,

…tossed about

with many a conflict, many a doubt,

fightings within, and fears without’

We, like the woman, come to him now. And he beholds her; he beholds you; he beholds me.

To Jesus Christ we are not problems to be manged we are living creatures, who are loved, to be restored to life, to be released from all that bows us down.

So this act of restoration on the Sabbath Day anticipates the eighth day of creation, the first day of the new week, the Day of Resurrection, the Day of Life, the day of the New Creation, a day that has dawned today.

In the act of restoring that woman to dignity the crowds came to see that God’s priority is the lifting up of people from the dust, the gutter and into life.

The action of baptism is the Church’s sacramental sign that raises up men, women and children sharing in the raising up of Christ through his Resurrection.

‘If you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God’ (Colossians 3.1)

Being baptised is an act of restoration and with this gospel reading we learn how we might approach God and our neighbour.

As Christians we should not be able see another person without beholding them as Christ does. In a brief walk outside this church we will see many people bowed down in spirit: Christ raises them up when they are freed from addiction, poverty, pain and we respond to them with kindness, hospitality and love. That is a sign of the Kingdom of God.

And what of our approach to God? This question comes not least in relation to the first reading today concerning the awe and majesty of God which perhaps prompts us to fall to our knees in reverence and humble devotion. Kneeling is a right and proper posture in God’s presence: just as how we bow reverently before the cross; bend our knee in genuflection at Christ’s presence in the sacrament; or kneel to receive Christ in Holy Communion.

But that is not the only posture of a Christian. Christ says, ‘stand up’ to the woman, ‘reclaim your dignity as a daughter, a child, of the Most High. Our Eucharistic Prayer says, ‘We thank you for counting us worthy to stand in your presence and serve you’ (Common Worship: Services and Prayers for the Church of England, Prayer B). Standing as a posture of prayer bespeaks dignity, presence and attention.

In church standing when a priest enters is not about doing the priest honour but rather saying that together with the priest we are the church, ‘a royal priesthood, a holy people’. Worshippers are not spectators but participants.

We are citizens of the Kingdom not consumers of it. As Jesus says, ‘Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near’ (Luke 21.28).

Of course kneeling or standing is not easy for everyone, or not for prolonged periods of time. But even in sitting we can sit in an anticipating way, a receptive, attentive way, with open hands and relaxed shoulders; or we can choose to button up, with our arms folded, and sit as if at a show.

Liturgy is not a performance; we are all ministers of it. Never allow your posture to turn you into a spectator whatever is going on in front of you, because in worship we are in the presence of the Living God, just as the letter to the Hebrews describes:

…since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe; for indeed our God is a consuming fire. (Hebrews 12.29)

It is for this that we are made, to praise and glorify God in the gift of life given to us by birth and renewed in baptism: ‘When Jesus laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God’ (Luke 13.12)

'A posture of expectation' an Advent Sunday sermon

A sermon preached at Croydon Minster at the Eucharist on Advent Sunday, 2nd December.The readings were Jeremiah 33.14-16; 1 Thessalonians 3.9-13 and Luke 21.25-36.

‘Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near’ (Luke 21.28)

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Most families have their own quirky phrases. One of the phrases in my family is addressed to someone who is slumping in their chair or not standing up straight: ‘posture police’.

In other words stand up straight, get your posture right!

The season of Advent is a season of watching and expectant waiting. If you are watching and waiting expectantly, you are on the lookout, so your posture has to be alert and upright.  

Advent is a season when we are called to adopt a posture of expectation. We need this posture throughout the year, of course, so that we are alert to Christ’s presence in the world, in word and sacrament day by day: watching and expectant waiting is for life; not just for Advent!

Our patron saint, John the Baptist, didn’t use the phrase ‘posture police’, but figuratively speaking, that’s what he was saying: ‘gird up your loins’; ‘be watchful’; ‘posture police’.

John the Baptist adopted the posture of expectation because he was watching and waiting expectantly for the coming of Christ day by day. That’s why he was ready to see, recognise and point out Jesus Christ in his midst.

There was John, out in the wilderness, baptising countless people yet he sees Jesus. John the Evangelist records it in a quite prosaic way, ‘the next day John saw Jesus coming towards him and declared, ‘Behold! Look! Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!’ (John 1.29)

That is the posture of expectation. A life attuned to seeing Christ in our midst and proclaiming him to all.

That is why John has such a high profile in Advent.

Another aspect of our tradition that raises its profile in Advent, and actually should throughout the year, is the reading of the Old Testament. Most obviously at this time of year we can draw on the promise given to our ancestors in faith, the Patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, Moses and Deborah and Sarah - and the prophets – most notably Isaiah, Micah, Zephaniah.

But the Old Testament is not there simply to be appropriated when it suits us. Reading the Old Testament throughout the year is to read a collection of books that witness to the posture of expectation and God’s faithfulness, because read through Easter eyes they point us to Christ: incarnate, crucified, risen and ascended: Adam’s ‘no’ to God in the garden of Eden points to Christ’s ‘yes’ to God in Gethsemane; Noah’s deliverance from the flood prefigures baptism; Abraham’s abortive sacrifice of Isaac points us to the Lamb of God, the sacrifice God provides for his people; Hannah’s yearning and rejoicing in her child inspires Mary’s Magnificat, her song of praise to God; Jacob’s twelve sons become God’s people, Israel, the forerunners of the twelve apostles and God’s people the Church: the people yearn, expectantly for the coming Messiah of God.

Expectation and yearning, ‘O Come, O come Emmanuel’: come ‘God with us’.

Posture is important. It is said that over half of human communication is non-verbal, in other words, body language. A key component of body language is posture, and you can read it all too well.

Try these. [Arms folded] this posture is defensive; [clenched fist] this one aggressive; [yawning, looking around] this one switched off, [eyes open hands outstretched] this one engaged.

Posture tells us what’s going on inside and helps us become something we are not yet.

I am not asleep! And I can’t go to sleep standing where I am. Bring me a duvet and pillows, let me lie down and I have adopted a posture for sleep, I will become a sleeper. Likewise prayer is more likely to bubble up in me if I adopt a prayerful posture, attending to my hands, considering whether I kneel or stand, breathing deeply and meditatively.

So the Advent posture is one of watching and expectant waiting: a posture of expectation.

When a church adopts a posture of expectation things happen. We don’t make them happen, God does, but our posture is ready for God to act, and, like John the Baptist, we see Christ, we proclaim Christ and others are attracted to Christ.

This Advent let’s shape our habits around expectation.

In Christian liturgy body language and posture are used and matter – over half our way of communication, remember. We stand, kneel and sit; we stretch out our hands to receive.

In many ways it is sad that the most expansive gestures and posture seen in churches are those of the priest: [open arms] ‘the Lord be with you’ [orans] ‘let us pray’[extended hands] ‘send your Holy Spirit’.

So this Advent in our worship let us be alert, upright, ready to see the Christ who comes to us as his word is opened up, as bread is broken, as he promises. In our prayer let us adopt a posture of expectation: not praying by clasping our sinuses, but by kneeling in our adoration; not by praying as if we are blinding ourselves, but joining our hands in supplication or stretching them out to receive; not by slumping into our pew but setting ourselves expectantly; not by sitting back for a performance of words and music, but expectantly engaging with the Lord who comes to us.

This is what the scriptures call us to: in Jeremiah’s words, ‘the days are surely coming says the LORD, when I fulfil the promise I made to Israel and the house of Judah’. This shapes us, as St Paul in the first letter to the Thessalonians says, that we may ‘abound more and more in love’.

The Lord is near. Now is the time to restore what is lacking in our faith. Now it is time to wake up, sit up and take notice. As Jesus says in the gospel: ‘Be alert at all times…’ (Luke 21.36)

The days are surely coming, so let us be watchful, expectantly waiting for the Lord who comes: ‘Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near’.

© Andrew Bishop, 2018