Depression...

I think I might have hit this stage of grief. Its been almost five months since King has gone, three months since Mark- and suddenly I've found that something inside me has died. Some spark, some life force - and I feel hollow.

Perhaps hollow is the wrong word, empty of meaning is probably more accurate because I am full of tears, its as if the dam wall that was holding back an ocean has burst and my eyes leak it out almost continually. Even when there's not actual water on my face it pours on the inside.

The irony is that amidst this space of pain and emptyness, I'm trying to write an essay on hope. Yes. Hope. A concept I believe in but feel little of at the moment. My brain is choosing to believe, choosing to pray, choosing to trust that God knows what he's doing - while my soul simply throbs in agony.

My hope at the moment? It will get better. There will be a time when I do not soak my pillow in tears. There will be a time when I can think of them without pain. I believe there is a light at the end of this tunnel. It's just pretty dark for the moment.

Anyone got a spare candle? Mine ran out.

Consider the Soldiers...

Our reading this morning, starts at the cross. Jesus has been tried, condemned, whipped, and crucified… Pilate as you know did not agree with the conviction and had washed his hands of the matter, handing Jesus over to the Soldiers and the crowd. And so we read in John 19: 19-24

 ¹⁹ Pilate had a notice prepared and fastened to the cross. It read: JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS. ²⁰ Many of the Jews read this sign, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and the sign was written in Aramaic, Latin and Greek. ²¹ The chief priests of the Jews protested to Pilate, “Do not write ‘The King of the Jews,’ but that this man claimed to be king of the Jews.”

 ²² Pilate answered, “What I have written, I have written.”

 ²³ When the soldiers crucified Jesus, they took his clothes, dividing them into four shares, one for each of them, with the undergarment remaining. This garment was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.

 ²⁴ “Let’s not tear it,” they said to one another. “Let’s decide by lot who will get it.”

   This happened that the scripture might be fulfilled which said,

   “They divided my garments among them
   and cast lots for my clothing.”^[a]

   So this is what the soldiers did. 

 My favourite Easter song starts with the haunting question of “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?” Peter Marshal wrote a sermon using those words as his title…

“Only as the nails were driven in did the shouting stop. There was a hush. Most of them were stunned … horrified … Even the hardest of them was silenced, and the thud of the hammer was faintly re-echoed from the city walls.

Mary the mother of Jesus, stopped her ears and closed her eyes. She could not bear the thud of the hammer. Simon of Cyrene from time to time wiped away his tears with the back of his hand… carrying a cross for the condemned changes a man. Peter stood on the fringe of the crowd blinded by hot tears that filled his eyes, while his very heart broke.

They hurled his own words back at Him, but they were barbs, dipped in venom and shot from snarling lips, like poisoned arrows.

“He saved others, But he can’t save himself. Yes he healed the cripples, yes, he gave sight to the blind. He made withered arms whole again. He even brought back the dead, but he cannot save himself.

Perform a miracle now miracle man! Come down from the cross and we’ll believe you. Aha, you would build the temple in three days… you who have nails in your hands, you have wood – go on and rebuild your temple.

If you are the Christ, come on down from the cross”

They shouted until they were hoarse.

The noise was so great that only a few of them standing near the Cross heard what He said when his lips moved in prayer: “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they do.”

Past his feet, through the blood and sweat that filled his eyes, he would have been able to catch a glimpse of a huddle of soldiers, and a flash of dice. The garment they played for would have been recognisable. His mother most likely would have made it for him as he left home, a seamless robe, worth gambling for.

The soldiers do not look up. They stop their ears to the shouts of the crowd, to the moans of the dying, to the cries of the family. This is just another day at the office.

Have you ever wondered how they could be playing in the sand while people die? Have you ever wondered how the soldiers could not have known what was happening? Have you considered the callousness that must have engulfed their hearts?

In looking at their reasons though, I found myself shocked that we sitting here this morning are perhaps not that different from those men.

 One of the soldiers, a tanned and well decorated man in his 40’s is bored. He looks at his friends around him and yawns. He was part of the contingent that arrested this man last night so didn’t get much sleep. The sun is baking down, and in their armour the sweat pools and glistens on their faces. “I hope they go quickly” he thinks, not from any sense of compassion mind you. An early day would be great; he barely saw his wife and children this morning and would love to get home to them. The others were squabbling over some of the condemned men’s clothes – and it looked as though they might even tear the one garment. “Wait” he says, “Lets Gamble for it” as he reaches into his pocket for dice, Gambling would at least kill some of the time. Crucifixions were common place. In fact when Jesus was a teenager, there was a rebellion in Jerusalem and the Romans in response crucified 15 hundred of the insurrectionist along the 15 kilometre stretch leading to Jerusalem, one crucified man per every 10 meters. The stench would have filled Jerusalem for days.

Boredom is what caused some of the men to not even notice the man on the cross, when I said it was another day at the office it truly was just that. Another day; another crucifixion.

I was privileged enough to go on a Mission trip from this church to Mozambique about 8 years ago. We travelled through remote areas of the country with a generator, a projector and screen, and then in open fields near villages we would set up the Jesus Film where hundreds would gather at night to watch it. These were people in extreme poverty that had never heard the story of Jesus let alone seen a film.

What was incredible to see though was their reaction to the scourging and crucifixion. Many of them would weep openly and some would get so angry that they would stand and shout at the screen. In seeing that I realised that I had even become blasé about it all. Yes Jesus got crucified, but after seeing it Easter after Easter, it does get a little done you know? Perhaps we miss the message and the wonder of the cross simply because we have seen it one too many times. Familiarity causes many to miss the wonder of Easter.

 A younger soldier spat to the ground in contempt. If he wins this garment he’ll burn it. The Jewish people disgusted him. His bitterness had grown up deep in his soul when his own brother, also a soldier was killed by one of these renegades when they knifed him in the street while he was on patrol. The instigators would often carry knives under their cloaks and cut soldiers as they brushed passed them in busy streets. He didn’t know what this Jesus character was all about – but hey, the more Jews they kill, the fewer that are left to despise.

Bitterness is a dangerous emotion. Scientists have proved that the emotion can actually produce a toxin in people bodies that make them sick. It often results in prejudice, resentment, racism, broken relationships, and ultimately anger at God.

In this soldier’s case, all Jews were evil because of what happened to his brother. And he was not alone as many of the Romans hated the Jews with a passion. Being posted to Palestine was seen as punishment… and many times it actually was. His hatred and prejudice led him to miss Christ, miss the wonder of what was happening in front of him. The most significant event in history was unfolding and he sat there seething.

Many of us too are holding onto some bitterness. Perhaps its anger at Christians because they have proven time and time again to be hypocritical and false. Perhaps its frustration with the Church for not doing things “right”, for not caring at a time when care was most needed. Perhaps it’s even anger at God for unanswered prayer, for pain, for loss. Bitterness clouds our view and can make us miss the wonders of Easter.

A third soldier’s eyes sparkled at the idea of gambling. He’d been eyeing the robe ever since they stripped it off the carpenter but knew that due to his rank he would never have gotten it. But now he was in with a chance! He crouched down with the others eyes fixed on the dice… it was his lucky day for sure.

Busyness is a major distraction from the cross. Our lives that are lived in pursuit of getting on top of things, getting ahead or even just getting by can make us miss the message of the cross. Can you imagine God, seeing grown men play in the sand while his son died for them? Can you imagine Jesus watching this charade through the blood in his eyes? When he prays for their forgiveness it’s not just for those he were hurling abuse at him. It was for those too busy to notice, those playing games and missing the immensity if the moment. It was for us as we get tied up in holiday plans, and work stress and dinner arrangements and let this season pass by without letting it change us.

There is a story of a Missionary to China, who was placed in prison for a number of years. Once released he and his wife and two kids were placed under house arrest for many months while people from his home country lobbied for his family’s release back to the UK. Finally one day a soldier arrived at their door and told them they would be flown out the next day, and could take 100kgs with them. Now realise that this family had lived there for over a decade and so much debate ensued about what to take. The Missionary desperately wanted his computer and his records, while his wife was trying to figure out which clothes they would most need. The children had their favourite toys and games, and so much debating and sadly at times quarrelling ensued for the next 24 hours until finally, they had exactly 100kg of luggage boxed and waiting.

The soldier returned the next morning to collect them and ask “Have you weighed out your 100kgs?” “Yes” they replied pointing at their boxes. “Did you weigh the children?” And suddenly the quarrels about clothes and computers were meaningless.

Our priorities are sometimes so skewed, but because they fit into society’s norms we don’t even notice.

Busyness is a silent stealer of time, priorities and devotion. 

A centurion stood watching these men as they finished up their game. Crucifixions had always bothered him, but were sadly part of the requirement for a soldier. Thankfully he had gotten to the stage where others could do the dirty work. This carpenter had unnerved him though. Perhaps it was something in his eyes, something in the devotion of his followers; he had heard him in the midst of pain murmur words of forgiveness for him, for those around. He stood there uncomfortably watching, waiting, wishing he could be anywhere else when suddenly Jesus opened his eyes and gave a loud cry. The gladness in his voice startled all who heard it, for it sounded like a shout of victory:

“It is finished. Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”

And with that cry the Carpenter died.

The Earth trembled beneath the Centurion’s feet and he found himself down on a knee with tears welling up in his eyes. He looked up at the dead man in wonder. “Truly” he whispered in horrified wonderment, “Truly, you are God’s son.”

 Romans 10:9 reads “that if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”

That centurion was never the same. His belief made him stand out among the soldiers, and he was the one who didn’t miss it. Many historical novels speculate how he became a follower and spent his life sharing that moment with others.

This about  about not letting Easter go by as just another holiday.

However if we allow boredom and familiarity to rob us of it, we will be looking at our watches instead of looking at the cross.

If we allow bitterness and prejudice to rob us of the devastation of Good Friday and the joy of Easter Sunday, we will be looking at others in contempt instead of at the Saviour in wonder.

If we allow busyness and distraction to rob us of the time of mourning and celebration, we will be looking at our mundane lives instead of worshipping a creator who loved the world so much that he sent his son to die for us.

This morning you have a choice of how you will approach the Easter Period. With Boredom, Bitterness, Busyness… or we can turn around like the Centurion and kneel at the cross in wonder, that it is God hanging there. 

Christmas Eve Sermon: The gift God gives

The Gift God gives.

“It all happened in a moment, a most remarkable moment. As moments go, that one appeared no different to any other. If you could somehow pick it up off the timeline and examine it, it would look exactly like the ones that have passed while I have spoken these words. It came and it went. It was preceded and succeeded by others just like it. It was one of the countless moments that have marked time since eternity became measurable.

But in reality, that particular moment was like none other. For through that segment of time a spectacular thing occurred. God became a man. While the creatures of the earth walked unaware, Divinity arrived. Heaven opened herself and placed her most precious one in a human womb.

The omnipotent, in one instant made himself breakable. He who was once spirit became pierce-able. He who was larger than the Universe became an embryo. And he who sustained the world with a word chose to be dependent upon the nourishment of a young girl. God as a foetus. Holiness sleeping in a womb. The creator of life being created.

God was given eyebrows, elbows, two kidneys and a spleen. He stretched against the walls and floated in the amniotic fluids of his mother. God had come near.

He came not as a flash of light or as an unapproachable conqueror, but as one who’s first cries were heard by a peasant girl and an exhausted carpenter. The hands that first held him were unmanicured, calloused and dirty. No silk. No ivory. No party. No hype.

Were it not for the shepherds, there would have been no reception. And were it not for a group of star-gazers, there would have been no gifts.

Angels watched in wonder as Mary changed God’s diaper. The universe watched in wonder as The Almighty learned to walk.”

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light, on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned… For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

My introduction this evening was written by Max Lucado in his book God came near. I love it because it brings that which is beyond our comprehension to language we can understand. It takes the nativity scene, so surreal and other-worldly and normalises it. It gives us a glimpse into the moment that changed everything.

The Christmas story in many ways has lost its rawness and its absurdity. Our Christmas cards more often than not hold pictures of snow-covered scenery, or cute animals wearing red hats. The more religious ones may hold a nativity scene where two well-adjusted adults with halos, kneel near a crib-like manger where an angelic babe sleeps. Clean, packaged, acceptable.

Yet us in our messy world look in and feel like it really can’t have too much to do with us. Our messy lives with pain, and dirt and disappointment. Our lives where we are not well adjusted adults and where things don’t always end up neatly packaged. Lives which search for meaning, for belonging, for guidance and for hope. What can this perfect picture possible have to do with our lives? How could this gift of a baby be relevant in our 21^st century. And so tonight, I hope to paint a slightly more realistic picture of what happened one night over 2000 years ago…  

Mary was a teenager. In our day and age where young people get pregnant out of wedlock frequently, we miss the force of this situation. In a close knit Jewish community in the first century this news would have been anything but welcome. The law regarded a betrothed women who became pregnant to be an adulteress, punishable to death by stoning. Interestingly enough it has been well speculated that into today’s society the baby would not have survived. A teenage unplanned pregnancy in a hostile society, no father and an extremely poverty stricken area would have given every reason necessary for termination… let alone the fact that the young girl showed psychotic tendancies by claiming that an angel spoke to her and holy ghost conception.

Consider Joseph, and his disillusionment when he discovers that Mary is with child. He is older than Mary and is looking forward to his marriage with high anticipation, when he finds she is carrying another man’s baby. He would have been hurt. Deeply hurt. Even so he decides to act with compassion to divorce Mary quietly rather than publicly as was the norm. But for God this is not enough and Joseph is told to take Mary as his wife regardless and protect her. How many times did Joseph second-guess his angel encounter as “just a dream” as he endured the shame of the village noticing the changing shape of his fiancé?

Nine months of awkward explanations, the lingering scent of scandal.

A male head of household was all that was required for a Roman census, and yet Joseph dragged his heavily pregnant wife alongside him. Could it be that he wanted to spare her the dishonour of a village birth?

And as they celebrated the arrival of their baby boy, amidst dirt and manure. Loneliness and obscurity – can you imagine the questions that ran through their minds? What now God? How are we meant to raise your son? Where to from here? What will the future hold? Am I up to this? Will I fail?

Confusion, uncertainty, fear, wonderment, bewilderment, exhaustion. This couple felt it all. And yet to them God presents a gift. A Wonderful Counsellor in baby form. Someone who would walk a path worth following. Someone who would speak words of comfort and wisdom into the most confusing circumstances. Someone who would understand and empathise with their pain, who would experience it all, and yet be without sin.

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathise with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are – yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence – so that we may receive mercy and find help in our time of need” (Hebrews 4:15, 16)

This evening perhaps you too are like Mary and Joseph. Perhaps there are circumstances which are troubling, uncertain, exhausting. I pray that you may receive the gift of a Wonderful Counsellor into your heart.

Somewhere to the East of this Cow shed, some men gazed in amazement at a star, which appeared in a form surprising and compelling.  These wise men would have been wealthy. The size of their gifts belied their ability to be generous and travel in those days was expensive and dangerous. They must have had time for leisure, or they would not have left on camel back for many weeks into the desert.

What was it they sought? Their words to Herod speaks of them looking for a King, a ruler… someone worth following. They needed to find someone they could trust, believe in and worship. Evidently they had everything they wanted and yet not what they needed. If their worldly comforts had satisfied they would have never left.

It is well known that many wealthy people, who have spent their lives amassing security and comforts battle with retirement. They have plenty to live on, but not enough to live for. A situation which confronts many, of all ages, especially in the community we live in.

It seems likely that these wise men were escaping their life that had been empty, always searching for something. The outside was well furnished and decorated but the inside needed a king to pull it together and give it meaning and worth. Someone who reminded them that life is more than getting and spending. That there is a bigger picture – a grander story that we get to play a part in. A way in which our lives can make a difference and be significant. Someone who will welcome us, with a “well done good and faithful servant”.

To these men God presents a gift. A Mighty God in baby form. A strong leader, a King worthy of worship and Honour. A God who is able to show them their place in the bigger story. One who can give meaning and worth.

“For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord. Plans to prosper and not to harm you. To give you a hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

This evening perhaps you find yourself in the place of these wise men. Recognising that for you it has been all about externals and little about internals. Perhaps you find yourself with little to live for. I pray that you may accept the gift of Mighty God, to be ruler and governor in your heart.

There were some on whom that night was another night at the office… although in this case the office consisted of a field of sheep. Working throughout the night to protect the animals, shepherds in the society and time of the nativity were nobodies in the extreme sense. They were outcasts in society, the lowest of the low. The reason they were out there and not in the town to be counted in the census is because they weren’t considered human enough. They had such a poor reputation that Jewish law lumped them in the category of ‘godless’ and restricted their access to the very outer court of the temple. They were deemed so untrustworthy that the word of a shepherd would count for nothing in a court of law. They were illiterate hirelings – didn’t own their own property or even their own sheep. The bottom of the proverbial food chain.

Perhaps you can identify with this feeling of being unwanted, unseen and belonging to nobody and nothing. Their self-esteem must have come purely from their company with each other for no one else wanted to have anything to do with them. God was distant, unknowable, unapproachable and inaccessible.

Amazing that God chose them, the humble, nameless group of shepherds to reveal his plan to. “I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Saviour has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord…”

A Saviour has been born to you, nameless lowly shepherd… and to all people.

To the lowly shepherd God presents a gift. An Everlasting Father in baby form. A heavenly family to belong to. An inheritance that never spoils nor fades. A place to belong and be known. To be named, and loved and accepted. “For all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” (John 1:12)

“How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God.” (1 John 3:1)

This evening perhaps you find yourself in the place of these shepherds. Perhaps you feel you are worth nothing, that no one cares or really knows you. Perhaps you have been trodden on and excluded and unwanted by people one too many times. I pray that tonight you may accept the gift of an Everlasting Father, to be the lover of your soul. That you may know yourself to be desired, and bought, and so valuable in God’s sight.

Jesus was born into an occupied and oppressed people group. The Jews were under Roman control and as such were abused by a system that simply worked for more wealth and power. Heavy taxes were imposed on all people, so much that many were starving. Those who couldn’t pay had their land stolen and their children taken for slaves.  Children’s rights, Women’s right, human rights did not exist. The story which never gets told on Christmas is how Jesus birth sparked Herod to kill all baby boys in the town of Bethlehem. Jesus and his family are refugees for years in a foreign land. Blood, tears, murder, hopelessness, chaos. Devastation reigned.

In our society today we sometimes feel that same way. We look at the poverty around us, the greed, the crime and violence, the abuse… and we cry out for help. We look inside ourselves and see the anxiety, the uncertainties, the losses and grief, the anger and unforgiveness, the fears. And we cry out for an end to this. We cry out for hope. The world groans in the turmoil.

“Peace! Peace!” we cry – when there really is no prospect for peace.

The world tries to get peace through conferences, coalitions and treaties. It protects its stability through armed forces and threats. It protects its sanity with psychology and drugs and escapism.

To the people of Bethlehem, God presents a gift. The Prince of Peace in baby form. The one who would bring peace not as the world gives – but a peace of relationships, a peace with our Maker. A peace that happens amidst the storms and the tears.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” (John 14:27)

Tonight maybe you are in search of peace. Whether it be peace because of turmoil around you, peace because of the turmoil within you or peace because of a World that is crying out for hope… I pray that you might accept the gift of the Prince of Peace. That you will know within your soul, the peace that passes understanding.

If you sought to give mankind this Christmas the gift it most needs, what would you offer? You would need to remember the many and special needs of the world. Millions are hungry or cold at this moment. Mighty nations, strong and proud are still afraid – and its citizens tremble. Factions struggle for supremacy on every corner of the globe. You need to consider all manner of people – those who are too secure and callous, those adrift and afraid, those ostracized and excluded, the old nearing the grave and the young still within the womb. At Christmas the reminder of loss and the bitterness of strife bring its sharpest pain. One despairing over an empty place at dinner and another rejoicing at a place filled.

What would you offer?

God gave us a baby. And in that he gave us himself. He gave us the ability to change situations and have hope and peace. A gift that would provide the power to make a commitment that would lead to forgiveness and reconciliation. A gift that removes guilt, removes shame and builds acceptance and love.

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

Tonight as we prepare for Christmas will you accept this gift? Will you prepare your heart for this baby, this child, this Jesus.

Wonderful Counsellor

Mighty God

Everlasting Father

Prince of Peace.