Sermon from 29th October 2006

As part of a Vocational Roadshow, we had a guest speaker, Chris Chapman, at St. Paul's this week. So, our Vicar, Cameron Barker only preached at the 9.30am service at St. Saviour's. Here's his sermon for those who missed it.

‘If you want to avoid an argument, don’t discuss politics, sport, or religion.’ … Does that saying sound familiar? Have I started a sermon that way before?

Well, I have, in fact! That’s how I began my sermon on the second prediction that Jesus made about his forthcoming death. Today we’ve heard the third prediction Jesus made about his death. And I could preach pretty much the same sermon today as I did about the second prediction. I could do that because many of the themes in Mark 10 are very similar to those we find in chapter 9. And, not coincidentally, they’re not very different from the themes that run through Jesus’ first prediction of his death in Mark 8 too!

The details are different on each of the 3 occasions. And it’s worth noting that they really are 3 different occasions. Each time Jesus reveals a little more detail about what’s going to happen to him in Jerusalem. But the disciples clearly didn’t learn the lessons that they needed to. Each time they responded to Jesus’ words in entirely the wrong way. First it was Peter; then it was all 12 of them; and this time it’s James and John who miss the point – swiftly followed by the other 10, it must be said! Even so, Jesus still tried to teach them what they really should’ve grasped already: that his way is truly different. Here again Jesus said, ‘If one of you wants to be great, you must be the servant of the rest’.

Now I don’t intend to preach the same sermon again. Yes, these are important lessons for us to learn too. And, like the disciples, we also may need several goes at grasping this truth: ‘if one of you wants to be great, you must be the servant of the rest.’ So if you missed it last time, do go and read my earlier sermon on our blogsite, or ask for a paper copy. But this time I want instead to focus on just one verse from this reading. It’s a verse that’s absolutely foundational to the Christian faith. It tells us, in his own words, exactly what Jesus was doing and why he was doing it. It tells us why Jesus went so willingly to Jerusalem, to endure what he did – and what that means for us today.

So I need to start this sermon (if not my time!) again, now like this. I’ll begin with an invitation to sit quietly for a while and examine what comes to your mind when you think about – or try to picture – Jesus’ crucifixion. I will offer a range of possible options, but consider it first; and then see which image you might identify with …

The first option is that this exercise hasn’t done anything at all for you! That could perhaps be because you don’t think in pictures. Or it could be because you don’t think that this story is relevant to you. But for many it is. So maybe for you it brought to mind a memory of being here, or in some other church. Perhaps it’s at a Communion service – or on Good Friday, maybe. Did you think of some of the hymns or songs we sing – traditional ones like ‘There is a green hill far away’, or ‘When I survey the wondrous cross’; or of more modern ones, like ‘How deep the Father’s love for us’, or ‘Jesus Christ, I think upon your sacrifice’? And how singing them makes you feel: from sad to happy, and back.

It’s also possible that you pictured an image of a cross, a wooden or metal one, or in a painting. Maybe that spoke to you of suffering and sorrow – but perhaps in a way that helps you to cope with your own difficulties. Or is it that thinking about the cross confronted you with the brutality of it – as Mel Gibson’s film portrayed so well? Did that force you to think about the cruelty and brutality in today’s world? Yes, it’s usually out of our sight, but it’s there unavoidably – in places like Iraq and Darfur, and elsewhere.

But maybe in your imagination you placed yourself even closer to the story. So were you there, amongst the crowd at the cross? Did you see the mixed responses: the anger of the religious leaders; the mockery of those passing by; the indifference of the Roman soldiers; and the shocked disbelief of the small group of Jesus’ family and followers? And who were you with? What were you doing? And what did you feel as you observed this horrifying scene?

Of course you may have pictured something quite different to any of those. But, if you did, that makes the point just as well – that different people respond differently to Jesus’ death. Mark knew that was so, as he prepared to write about the crux of the gospel story. We need to note the place we now are in the story – which is right near the end. If we look at Mark’s next chapter heading we’ll see that Jesus was about to enter Jerusalem for the last time. This third prediction of his death comes just days before Jesus began his final week – a fact he was very well aware of.

That’s precisely what Jesus had tried to tell his disciples – what was going to happen to him. He’d tried twice before; and now he was trying for the third time. But they weren’t hearing him – perhaps for some of those reasons that we explored last time. Regardless of whether they grasped it, though, it was going to happen. Jesus had known that it would be so, from at least his own baptism onwards. I’ve said here before that Jesus was born for one reason above all others – and that was to die. Jesus knew that throughout his earthly life, and he never shirked from it. Not in theory; and, now that the moment was almost upon him, not in reality either. Jesus was born to die; and this was the time.

Jesus was born to die – and he knew it. ‘The Son of Man did not come to be served; he came to serve and to give his life to redeem many people’. That’s how Jesus ended his final attempt to explain his mission to his disciples: ‘the Son of Man did not come to be served; he came to serve and to give his life to redeem many people’. This verse tells us everything we need to know about God, and about his son, Jesus. It tells us just how determined God was to un-do the separation that existed between himself and the people he had made. It tells us the lengths to which God was willing to go to solve a problem that wasn’t even his!

God made people to know him, to be in a relationship with him. But very early on, people decided we’d be better off on our own, doing our own thing. The Bible calls that sin – when we put ‘I’ in the middle of our lives instead of the God who made us. And the reality is that when we do that we cut ourselves off from God. We open up a chasm that we can’t cross. The bridge is gone, and we can’t build a new one. Instead, we’re left on the wrong side, where we must face the consequences of our own choices. We literally become slaves to sin, because we’re held hostage by it; we have been captured by an enemy far bigger than us.

There is no escape – or there wasn’t until Jesus died to make one for us. The language that Jesus used here about his own death is hugely rich in Old Testament imagery. We don’t understand that easily, any more so than many of Mark’s original readers would have done. So Jesus also used an image that First-Century people would have identified with: the language of slavery. Slavery was, of course, very common in the Roman world, so people then knew what the word ‘redeem’ meant. Again we need help to understand this idea now. What it meant was paying the price of a slave; not to own them but to buy their freedom. In Roman times you could redeem a slave: you paid the price for them – and then set them free, rather than owning them yourself.

That was the picture Jesus used to describe what he was about to do. He told his disciples that he was going to give his life – in that unbelievably humiliating and painful way – to ‘redeem many people’. It wasn’t that Jesus deserved to die. He was, and is, the only person who’s lived life as it’s meant to be: in a perfect relationship with God. No, Jesus chose to die. Why? Jesus chose to die in order to redeem, to buy the freedom of, all people who are enslaved to sin. That’s why Jesus was born – to die to do just that. That’s what he’d been trying to tell his disciples. As the Son of God he had the right to be served and treated with every respect. But he chose not to exercise his rights. Instead, Jesus chose to give them all up – to die like this!

Of course he told his disciples that this was the example they were to follow themselves. Jesus’ followers are meant to be willing to serve others as the way to true greatness. Jesus showed us how to do it by his own life – and then he did so much more besides. He went to Jerusalem fully knowing what was awaiting him there: betrayal by a friend; the death sentence on a false charge; mockery; beating and execution. No, that wouldn’t be the end of the story. Three days later he would rise to life again, to break the power of death. But there wasn’t a shortcut that bypassed the cross first. So Jesus chose to go through all this because of what it could and would accomplish – our redemption.

Now, of course this demands a response from us. Anyone who calls themselves a Christian will have made the first response already. At some point, and in some way, we will have chosen to accept that Jesus died to redeem us personally, to set us free from our sin. We’ll have admitted that we were on the wrong side of the divide, separated from God. We will then have accepted that Jesus died instead of us, and so have been restored to a relationship with God. For us, the gulf is closed: by his death Jesus has paid the price of our freedom. The challenge for us now is to live and grow in this new relationship. A large part of that is our calling to serve others, just like Jesus did.

But there will be others here who haven’t yet made that first response to Jesus’ death. If that’s you – and whatever your reasons are for not having done so – is today the day that you do? Having heard why Jesus died – to redeem you, to buy your freedom – will you accept God’s offer of his son’s death? Will you allow Jesus’ death to bring you into a right relationship with God? That is what God wants; that is why Jesus died – so you could be redeemed.

If you want to accept, there’s a simple A B C D that you need to follow. First you need to Admit your need of God’s help, that you are on the wrong side of the great divide, and why you are. Then you need to Believe that Jesus died for you, to redeem you from your sin, just as he said here. Do stop for a while to Consider how this can and will change your life – because it won’t be easy. If you still want to go ahead, there is something you then need to Do. You need to repeat the prayer that I’ll end with shortly – and tell someone that you have. Ask one of the prayer team to pray with you afterwards. That’s your first step into the new life that Jesus’ death has brought you. And, like any other Christian, of course you need to go home praising God for what Jesus has done by dying to redeem you. So let’s pray …

Sermon from 22nd October 2006

One of our Lay Readers, Adrian Parkhouse, gave us a very lively all-age service this Sunday.
Our reading was from Matthew 25:v31-45, Jesus’ parable about the sheep and the goats. Here’s Adrian’s talk – complete with stage directions!

1. Separating-out [an activity]

Pretend to have a box containing an important collection – all sorted-out – very fragile “Handle with Care”. Spill “the collection” of 100 coloured balls over the floor and get volunteers to help sort them out again into their colours – putting the reds and yellows on the left and the green and blues on the right.

How did we know how the balls were to be sorted? By their colours. Listen now to how Jesus tells us God will sort out the people of the world.

[Reading]

2. Sheep from Goats

The story that Jesus tells today is a very dramatic one: if you have seen the movies of Lord of the Rings, perhaps your imagination is helped to picture all the peoples of the earth gathered before the Son of Man (one of the names that Jesus used of himself) sat on his throne, surrounded by angels?

And then Jesus begins the task of judgement, separating out the people and putting them either to his left or to his right; a task that Jesus likens, not to separating out to balls of different colours, but rather to a shepherd separating out his sheep from his goats.

That will have been a familiar idea to the disciples. Even if they hadn’t done it themselves they had seen the shepherds in their villages returning from the hills in the evening leading their herds – which would have been a mixture of sheep and goats – animals that probably looked very similar, since we are not talking about the plump sheep or muscular goats of the English farmyard but the scrawny mountain animals that had to nibble enough to eat from the sparse coarse grass and vegetation on the Palestinian mountains. So they looked alike and could fend together during the day– but at night time the shepherd would have to separate them out. They had different needs. The sheep needed the warmth and shelter while the goats preferred the cool and the freedom to keep foraging. And anyway the sheep were more valuable and the shepherd wanted to make sure they inside the fold, safe from predators.

So the task is done, going through the flock and setting the sheep on one side and the goats on the other. What do you think the shepherd was looking for to tell them apart? [eg a beard; horns]

[Activity: how many goats can you see in this flock? With toy sheep – some dressed as goats]
[Then keep some of the little ones o make marshmallow sheep during the next bit]

3. Judgement

Jesus isn’t separating sheep from goats – but the blessed, the righteous - who will enjoy the Kingdom of Heaven: from the cursed who will go to eternal fire.

There is no doubt that for many of us this is an uncomfortable challenge –either because we don’t like the idea of heaven and hell; or because we don’t like the idea of judgment or of being judged.

It is worth putting the passage in its context: a few chapters ago, when Jesus had commented that the mighty Temple building in Jerusalem would soon lie in ruins, the disciples has asked him to tell them about the coming of God’s Kingdom – how would they know when it was coming? When would it come?

And so here in the dusk on the Mount of Olives, Jesus went on to teach them about the signs, the earthquake and the violence and the darkness; and then about the need to be ready because the timing is unknown but will be sudden (the parable of the wise and foolish bridesmaids) and the need to make sure we are worthy stewards of all that God has given us (the parable of the talents) so we can account to God when He comes back. And now this dramatic picture of judgement. Dramatic not least because of the contrast between the little, seemingly powerless, group gathered to listen, still to face the apparent defeat of Holy Week and the plain filled with people come to be judged.

Apart from the drama, there are two things that strike me about this picture:

· First the basis of judgment. We learn that the crucial issue will be whether our lives have reflected God’s love to us. Has that love been converted into practical love for others – the hungry, the thirsty, the lonely, the sick, the poor? Or have we been living as hypocrites – saying one thing but living differently? Note the separation was of sheep and goats not sheep and wolves: the people on the plain may all profess to have faith – the test is whether that has been real. This not a time for argument or for words but for a judgement of action towards those in need [or some would say, to the disciples and the church?]
· Second both sides’ surprise? When had they earned or failed to earn this reward? Jesus reply shows his complete identification with the needs of man – he is that fly-covered child in Dafur; that thirsty family in central Africa; the sick mother in our street; that shoeless, tattered tramp in the doorway near Kings Cross; the offender institutionalised by a life spent in children’s homes and jail. And “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers o mine, you did for me.”

So the lesson is not easy – but is clear: let our faith be real in the way we treat each other and the rest of mankind.

[Now the makers of the marshmallow sheep can be asked to give theirs to someone else]

Sermon from 15th October 2006

The Rich Young Man
This week, one of our ordinands in training, Michael Brooks, speaks about Jesus' encounter with a rich man who found that his wealth was too big a barrier to him following Jesus. The reading is from Mark 10: 17-31

May I speak in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

I would like us to start by stretching our imagination to the full. I want us to pretend England had won the world cup in July, and for the pedants gathered here, I mean that England had won the FIFA world football championships of 2006. And not only did we win, David Beckham scored three goals in the final. More amazingly, and this may stretch credulity too far, imagine that he had scored them in open play! Who would like to swap places with David Beckham now?

But keep your imagination running: imagine that life for this modern day Rich Young Man was not to be so happy. Later, retiring from playing football, he has seen the size of his waist increase and he has seen his hairline recede. He understands that all his wealth will not make him happy for ever, and that he is not going to live forever either. He has been told there are no pockets in a shroud and he thinks he knows what this means. He phones his manager in the middle of the night who arranges a meeting with the football club counsellor.

So David asks the counsellor, ‘how can I live forever?’ The counsellor replies by starting with Christianity to describe the beliefs of the major world faiths. David replies that he is not interested in what Christians believe. He explains that he has friends who have gone through four different religions in the past year. He wants to know what he would have to do, in other words how his life might change. What would it cost him in terms of his money, his friends and his public image. The counsellor says he will get back to him.

At the next meeting the counsellor has good news for David. He has done some research and found out that Christians are totally convinced that they live forever. ‘But how will my life change now’, asks David, and, unusually, he can feel himself getting just a little irritated. ‘Well not much change actually’, says the counsellor. ‘it appears that for most Christians living their faith means that they go to church on Sundays, unless they have something important to do like visiting old friends. In addition they seem to have adopted what they believe to be a practice of Judaism by giving away 10% of their wealth and keeping 90% for themselves.’ ‘Give away 10%!’ exclaims David, ‘Oh do not worry’, replies the counsellor, ‘you pay 40% of your income in tax and many Christians feel that this largely covers it.’ ‘Anything else?’, asks David. ‘Not really’, replied the counsellor, ‘they mostly seem to live exactly the same as their fellow law-abiding citizens, although there are a few exceptions.’ David and the counsellor agree to meet again.

At this final meeting David astonishes his counsellor by saying that he has read a commentary on Mark’s Gospel. He had seen the likeness between himself and the Rich Young Man. He has been completely astonished by what Jesus had told the Rich Young Man. David could not understand why Christians do not appear any different. He decided that the cost of discipleship was too great. He had concluded that being a real Christian was far too difficult, and he did not like half-measures.

The story that I read in the Gospel reading, is called the Rich Young Man. Whilst it is about wealth, it is also, given the context of where the story comes in Mark’s Gospel, about the cost of discipleship. I have a problem now in that I will be talking about how we might use our wealth or money. There are perhaps two sorts of people in this congregation. Some of you know, or suspect, that I am richer than you are and you might soon see me as a hypocrite. Others know, or suspect that I have less than you have and so you might conclude that it is easier for me to take such advice, since I have less to lose. Please, kindly, leave me out of your thinking. This is because I am not proposing myself as an example to be followed. But I can assure you that I am listening to this teaching of Jesus as much as you are.

So lets re-run the episode, and now we are back in first century Palestine. Although part of the Roman empire, actual Roman soldiers and Roman persons of authority are largely absent as control had been given to Jewish rulers who are obedient to Rome. In some translations the Rich Young Man is referred to as the Rich Young Ruler. And so this Rich Young Ruler must have taken some risk as he talked to Jesus, since he would not have wanted to be seen to associate with a leader of a movement that might become rebellious.

The Rich Young Man was probably used to talking down to people. Despite this he ran to Jesus, fell on his knees and called Jesus ‘Good Teacher’. He asked Jesus, ‘What must I do to inherit eternal life??’

Perhaps Jesus knew that the Rich Young Man had disguised himself with a poor attempt at showing subservience. Perhaps Jesus knew that the Rich Young Man was trying to disarm Jesus by flattering him so he could then debate with him on more equal terms. Jesus saw right through this and replied, ‘Why do you call me good?’ The Rich Young Man must have felt alarmed by this but Jesus enabled him to re-engage by reminding him of the commandments that were a central part of Jewish law. ‘You know the commandments’, Jesus says, and he recited the ones on murder, adultery, theft, false testimony, fraud and honouring parents.

The Rich Young Man says he has obeyed these commandments since he was a boy. The tone of the narrative changes at an instant, and this is characteristic of Mark’s writing. Mark writes, ‘Jesus looked at him and loved him’. Perhaps Jesus had some compassion for him because he knew what a lot he was going to ask of him. Jesus also invited the Rich Young Man to come and follow him. This was not always the case because although Jesus preached to many and healed many, he was selective about who he asked to become one of his disciples. Perhaps Jesus had sensed that the Rich Young Man wanted to become a disciple. Jesus was surrounded by those who had given up everything to follow him.

Jesus’ answer to the Rich Young Man’s question was devastating. ‘Just one thing you lack’, Jesus said, and perhaps the Rich Young Man was hoping he would be asked to make a special gift, but no, Jesus says ‘Go, sell everything you have and give it to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.’ At this the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth. The cost of discipleship was too much for the Rich Young Man.

Jesus then states how difficult it is for someone who is rich to enter the Kingdom of God and compares this to the difficulty of a camel passing thorough the ‘eye of the needle’. This image is so difficult to imagine that in the fifth century it was decided that the eye of the needle was a narrow city gate through which a camel could only pass once the cargo it was carrying had been removed. So this meant that it was OK to be rich provided that you got rid of everything at the end, perhaps in your will, I suppose. How we invent things rather than square up to the truth! Jesus really was comparing the difficulty to that of a camel passing through the eye of a needle. In the account of Mark the disciples were astounded by this and asked ‘Then who can be saved?’ Jesus’ reply was puzzling; he said, ‘What is impossible for mortals is possible for God.’ I can not solve this puzzle but there is certainly a message in this teaching about the cost of discipleship in material terms.

And this is a stern commandment to us all. Jesus defined generosity not in terms of what is given away but in terms of what people keep for themselves. And before dismissing such passages as idealistic words that Jesus may not have actually said, the Gospels were certainly written to be used by the early church. It is most unlikely that the Gospel writers would have included a whole body of teaching that was not part of the understanding of that early church. We would be most arrogant to think that we know better than people who had either known Jesus or known those who had known him. We would be foolish to accept Jesus as our Saviour but not accept him as a master to be obeyed. Think of the times in the Gospels where Jesus says ‘I have never known you’.

Now I do recognise that it is impractical for us all to become so impoverished that we become dependent on others. Jesus and his disciples were dependent on the generosity of those who provided them with food and shelter. But there is a strong message in the Gospels about personal responsibility, and the consequences of our actions. Remember the context in which we are reading this passage. Jesus was giving his disciples instructions as he made his way to Jerusalem and his death.

I am not saying that Jesus was primarily a social, economic or political reformer. But I do think it is not plausible, indeed it is ridiculous, to think that God would have taken on human form to then enter this world with the sole intention of restoring our spiritual needs. Jesus was a physical person who understood physical needs, and probably understood them better than most of us gathered here now. Jesus starts his teaching in Mark with the phrase ‘Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand’. The Greek word for repent is metanoia and this word means a complete change of heart and mind. God wants restoration in terms of our behaviour, morality and ethics. Jesus’ teaching in the Gospels creates and sustains this view. Jesus did not only tell his disciples what to believe, but he also told them how to behave. Being a disciple is about both belief and behaviour.

I am going to place some money here. [PLACES BAG OF MONEY ON LECTERN [ST S’S] OR STAGE [ST P’S] I have talked a lot about material wealth in this sermon, but we also own our time, our gifts and our talents. Let the bag represent what you own, let it represent the things and the money that you have, let it represent your time and your gifts and talents. As you come up to receive communion please think about all these things. Remember the cost of discipleship that the Rich Young Man was asked. What is the cost of your discipleship? Ask yourself, what is Jesus asking of you? Then look at the bread and wine and think about the cost of obedience that Jesus paid. Let us pray that God will help us all to be able to see clearly what is truly important. Amen

Sermon from 8th October

Today, one of our Lay Readers, Adrian Parkhouse, continues our study of Mark's gospel - the particular focus for us today is Mark 8: 38 – 50.


1. As we have a spare 15 minutes or so: what about English rugby? I mean who is fooling who, if they think there is any hope at all that England will retain the Rugby World Cup next year? What sign is there that the clubs and the RFU have built on the success in Australia to secure the future? How many players turned up for the squad training session last week, 18? 18 out of 32! What is going on? Do say, if you think differently.

To use the opportunity of the sermon spot to discuss such weighty matters is, of course, following the lead of the Vicar. Only last week he relied on sporting and political metaphors to engage our thinking. I take it only one step further.

But - to return to the topic for today. Obviously one theory about the decline of the game in England is the loss of Sir Clive Woodward, first to soccer (not sure he achieved all he might have done at Southampton?) and now to the UK’s Olympic Team. A motivational master; a man who was able to manage not just the players but also the back-room squad so that they peaked when it was needed. His team performed beyond what might reasonably have been expected from them as individuals: Woodward created self-belief, and self-confidence in the players as individuals and more so in the payers as a unit. Not an easy act to follow?

Can you imagine being in the locker-room ahead of the World Cup Final: about to walk out to face not only a highly talented opposition, but also a highly-biased home crowd. Sat there on your bench, concentrating on your role in the team: the first catch; the fist tackle, the first pass; get it right, you’re a professional, this is what it’s all about. Locked in your own thoughts.

2. And what would Sir Clive Woodward have added to these last few moments? Something like: “Whoever wants to be first, must be last,…the servant of all”, or “Don’t stop them…whoever is not against us is for us”; and “If your hand causes you to get it wrong, cut it off. It is better to play out the game with one hand.”?

3. Last week in our reading of Mark’s gospel we looked at the first of these teachings of Jesus. We saw how he addressed the quarrels among the disciples as to who would be top dog in the coming kingdom, by a challenge to change their thinking completely – to turn it on its head. To be first they had to be last; to be great they had to serve. It had to be their nature to welcome the least important in society as if they were Jesus themselves – like the child standing before them in the hug of Jesus.

4. I imagine our reading today as carrying on in the same scene: is John feeling awkward, because he can’t or doesn’t want to take on board what Jesus has said (remember later he and his brother renew the request for the best seats in the kingdom). Is he trying to change the subject with the boast about their policing of other exorcists? Or is a bit cross with them that they can do something the disciples had just found tricky (9:18,28). Has he perhaps understood that Jesus doesn’t want to hear about “me, me, me”, about their individual wants and desires; so instead he turns the topic to the team: “we told him to stop, because he doesn’t belong to our group/[ was not one of us].” To do so is very natural. My natural thinking can be diverted from my self; but when it is, it is usually transposed only to a “team” with which I am associated; my family, my firm, my friends, my church. And, thinking about it, it is often a direct transposition: the thinking is the same, though the object is not me but the team. Not me being the best, the most acceptable, the one who should get on, who should be defended at all cost: but my team being the best, the most acceptable, the ones who should get on, who should be defended at all cost.

5. John: we are special because we are with you Jesus.
Jesus: no you’re not. Anyone who, in my name (for I am special, I think we must read), does even the simplest thing – who because of me, gives only a cup of water, the simplest act, will be rewarded. And because it is in my name, we are all together, all as special.

And (Jesus goes on) while we are about it, it is very, very, very important that you take care not to be the reason why someone – this child here – doesn’t enjoy the kingdom of God, stumbles or sins. This is very, very, very important: understand? Very important.

6. This exchange raises a host of questions – not least interesting questions of literal interpretation, how many Christians over the years have maimed themselves in response to the closing verses?

But I want to go back to that locker-room and think some more about how we, the team, react to this motivational team talk. Here we are poised to go back into the world, part of Jesus’ team, and the what do we hear:
· Forget yourselves and be servants to everyone
· Your bit of the team ain’t that special
· Be careful, be very careful, not to cause harm, not to sin.

Motivated? You know, rather to my surprise, I am! I am not sure it would help me play a better game of rugby (already I am told off for being too nice to the opposition), but that isn’t what we are doing: out team is for a different game. Our team is about living the good news, the gospel, that the kingdom of God is here, that Jesus has won all people peace with God, that any barrier – of understanding, of guilt, of fear, of self-worth, of background – any block between any one and God the Father is cleared away. That the simple act of faith is all that is necessary to be part of Jesus’ team.

For that game, this team talk is one that Clive Woodward would envy:
· I hear that I can be that child, Jesus’ arms around me: it doesn’t all depend on me and my strength: I can always serve and that is what He wants.
· I hear that the team is pretty big: I may be saddened by the team’s tendency to argue amongst itself – but still it is a big team, all playing the same big game: what an honour!
· And I hear about the importance of avoiding hurting others: not easy, but I wouldn’t expect to play anything well, if it didn’t mean I had to train. Anything important needs some discipline. I understand that.

7. I re-read the first 9 chapters of Mark’s gospel this week, trying to re-live the experience from the perspective of the disciples. Not easy – there’s a lot of detail we are not told. I wanted to try and understand why, given the relatively rough treatment they get in these passages, they stuck around, why they continued playing hard. The best solution I found was that it comes down to what Cameron spoke of last week: once they met Jesus, once they had made that relationship, the changes He wanted to see in them were worth it: living with Him was worth all the mistakes.

8. OK, team? Let’s get out there and enjoy the game!

Sermon from 1st October 2006

Today, our vicar, Cameron Barker, continues our study from Mark's gospel. The reading, this week is from Mark 9: 30-37

‘If you want to avoid an argument, don’t discuss politics, sport, or religion.’

On two of those three fronts you may need to bear that old saying in mind before you dissect today’s sermon over Sunday lunch. But if you think you can guess which one of the three won’t feature, I’ll bet you’d get it wrong!

Today we’ll have - metaphorical - guest appearances from both numerous football greats, and Gordon Brown. So the one controversial area that won’t come up is religion; except to point out that in every sense that matters, Christianity is not a religion! This series from Mark began with Jesus expressing his view on the matter of religion, very clearly. And, although that’s not the main point to emerge from this reading, it’s very definitely (and uncomfortably) present again.

At its heart, Christianity is not a religion. What it is about is being in a real relationship with a living person: Jesus Christ. He’s a person who – as his disciples discovered in this passage – is well capable of turning our thinking up-side down. Jesus’ intended outcome is that our behaving is turned upside down as well – as it so often needs to be. So maybe there is a third health warning attached to the sermon after all: expect to be radically changed by Jesus!

As always, though, those comments need to be put in the context of the Bible passage we’re looking at. So first we need to fill in the holes. Not only have we skipped a week because of Harvest; we’ve also jumped forward a whole chapter! Two weeks ago Trevor spoke on how Jesus began to focus on his journey to Jerusalem – and the death that awaited him. The trigger for Jesus ending his mission in Galilee was Simon Peter’s realisation of who Jesus was. Once that penny had finally dropped, Jesus could begin to prepare his disciples for the vital change to their mind-set.

As Trevor said, Jesus’ attempt to re-educate the disciples began immediately. He told them exactly what would happen to him in Jerusalem. But they just didn’t get it! What then followed in the part that we’ve missed out, was a dramatic reinforcement of Jesus’ true identity as God’s Son. There’s a whole Sunday in the church’s year to look at Jesus’ Transfiguration. So we’ve gone on beyond that, to what happened after it. Today we are with Jesus and his disciples, on the road, out of Galilee, and heading for Jerusalem. Jesus’ main focus now is on preparing the disciples for what will happen to him all too soon. And it’s very clear that the disciples still need this preparation!

As they walked along the road, Jesus once again told the disciples what was about to happen to him. This time he added in an extra piece of information about it: that he was going to be betrayed to his death. But even that didn’t make any difference. His disciples still seemed completely unable to grasp what he was telling them. As we heard, Jesus couldn’t have made it any clearer. What is to mis-understand about, ‘The Son of Man will be handed over to those who / is going to be betrayed into the hands of men. They will kill him, and after three days he will rise to life.’

It sounds clear enough; and it is – to us. Of course we have the benefit of hindsight. We know what happened; so it is hard for us to accept that the disciples couldn’t hear what Jesus told them so plainly. In his commentary Tom Wright gives one possible good reason why the disciples might’ve struggled so much. In the early part of his ministry, Jesus usually taught in parables. He told simple, obvious stories, and then expected his hearers to look for the deeper true meaning of them. That’s what the disciples were used to from Jesus. So it is possible that they thought Jesus was saying something different to the obvious meaning.

Whatever the reason, they didn’t understand; and they didn’t dare ask Jesus to explain! Again, there is a possible good reason for that. The previous time Jesus had talked about his death, Peter had tried to talk more about it – and had got the hairdryer treatment! But Wright also points out that the disciples weren’t actually very interested in asking Jesus to explain himself for much less noble reasons. You see, the disciples knew what the Messiah was going to do. Even at this stage, and after all this time with Jesus, they still knew that they were headed for victory in Jerusalem.

The clue to that lies in the second part of the reading – which is where we’ll get to the politics. But first, the sport! As I say, the disciples knew what the Messiah was going to do. As with any good Jew of their time, they knew that the Messiah was God’s king. And for God to be king of Israel again, the foreign rulers first had to go. It was a simple and obvious piece of logic for the disciples. Jesus was the Messiah; he was going to Jerusalem; so he must’ve been about to remove the Romans. He couldn’t possibly have meant them to take his words about dying literally.

Dying wasn’t in the plan at all! It couldn’t be! That would be like (insert your football team’s key player) Steven Gerrard, Frank Lampard, Thierry Henry, Ryan Giggs, or Ronaldinho announcing that they were going to play the Champion’s League Final with their legs tied together! Of course, Jesus wasn’t really going to die in Jerusalem. The Messiah would surely never allow that happen. If he died, that would have been the end of God’s reign. Besides, if Jesus did die, what would that do to the disciples’ hopes for their own glorious futures? So perhaps the disciples didn’t understand Jesus because they didn’t want to understand. Maybe they preferred to hang onto their own preconceptions, because they were much more pleasant!

At least the disciples knew enough not to try and put Jesus right. They well remembered what had happened to Peter when he’d done that last time! But that didn’t stop them discussing the future as they walked along. And they had the same sort of conversation that is doubtless currently going on amongst the Brownites. Their man will be PM within year: who’s going to get the top posts in his team? They’ve all worked long & hard for many years, and have paid the price for their loyalty to Gordon. Now it’s almost time for the reward: who’ll be the next Chancellor; Foreign Secretary; Home Secretary? Many are hopeful, no doubt!

It’s a natural conversation to have in the circumstances. People close to the seat of potential power expect to be rewarded. And, as events proved, the disciples were no exception. They thought they’d been talking about this out of Jesus’ earshot; and they may have been. But even if he had not heard them, he still knew what they’d been discussing! Jesus gave his disciples the chance to own up. In verse 32 he asked them what they’d been arguing about on the road. Their response was silence – which rather suggests that the disciples knew Jesus wouldn’t approve! Mark doesn’t let them off the hook, though. He tells us why they’d argued – because they’d been discussing who was the greatest!

As so often, Jesus took this opportunity to teach. Sitting down – which shows that this was serious! – he first set out the spiritual principle. If you want to be first, Jesus said, you have to choose to be last. And that means being a servant to everyone else! How’s that for turning conventional wisdom on its head? That’s not the way the world works, is it? You get ahead in life by doing the important, visible jobs; being noticed by the right people; by making a noise; by putting yourself first. Maybe so: but that’s not how it works in God’s economy – as Jesus himself modelled. In his life and by his death, Jesus put others first. He truly was the servant of all – and with what a result for us!

In case his disciples had missed his point Jesus illustrated it for them. He had a child stand in front of them – and don’t forget that at that time children weren’t valued in the way they are today. The equivalent for us would be more like the person who empties our bins, or cleans the tube we travel on – someone virtually unseen & insignificant to our life. But these are precisely the people we are to welcome as if they are Jesus himself! Whatever we do for the least significant will be evaluated as if we had done it for Jesus! And of course that means as if we’d done it for God.

Jesus’ meaning couldn’t have been clearer. The disciples were all caught up with what was in it for them. Their focus was on the rewards they were hoping for – positions of power and influence in the new regime. But along the way they’d missed the key spiritual principle of servanthood. There’s nothing intrinsically wrong with being ambitious for God – unless we lose sight of who and what’s important to God. What’s important to God is how we treat the weak the poor, the insignificant. It’s not that we get to where we think we deserve to be. It’s that everyone gets to know, see and experience God’s caring love. And, if that’s to happen, then each of us has to follow Jesus’ example of servanthood.

Jesus never lost sight of his own primary purpose. He was going to Jerusalem to fulfil it – by dying on the cross. In doing that he’d be the servant of all, and open the way back to God for all people for all time. His disciples wouldn’t be able to understand fully what he did or what it meant until after his resurrection. Jesus still tried to prepare them for it, though – and to teach them this key spiritual lesson about what matters in God’s economy.

The disciples still didn’t get it – here, or even the third time that Jesus tried to teach them the same thing! And that could perhaps make us feel quite self-righteous – until we ask ourselves whether we have got this point ourselves. We have even less excuse than the disciples did. Not only have we heard the same things that they did. We do live after the death of Jesus, God’s suffering servant. So has that transformed the way we treat the insignificant people in our lives? Has that informed the jobs we do, and how we do them? Are we ambitious for God with an attitude of servanthood; or are we just ambitious for ourselves?

I’ve said before that being a Christian isn’t a matter of just doing the right thing. In that sense it’s not a religion. It is about being in a real relationship with this person Jesus who turns our thinking on its head. He wants to turn our behaving on its head too. So he is capable of challenging us about what we do and don’t do, and why we do and don’t do it – just as he challenged his disciples. When he does challenge you, do you have to keep silent, as the disciples did? Or can you look him in the eye and say that you’ve got the point because that is how you live – as Jesus did? ‘Whoever wants to be first must place himself last, and be the servant of all’. Let’s pray …