Sermon on Acts 10:44-end and John 15:9-17

Sermon on Acts 10:44-end and John 15:9-17
Originally given 05 May 2024 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

Lately I have been thinking about the idea of belonging. What does it mean to belong? Why is it important to belong? I have spent a lot of my life feeling like I don’t belong. As the baby sister, my brother, who I adore, would keep me out of his friendship circle when we were growing up, because I was too young and a girl, so I didn’t belong. At school, I was academically gifted, but I struggled to create friendships with people who looked down on my working-class background, pointing out my non-branded clothing, a visual sign that I didn’t belong. Growing up in the ‘Bible Belt’, I struggled with my sexuality, because it was made clear by the Christians around me I would only be accepted if I was in a heterosexual relationship with someone who was cis-gender, so as someone who was made with open attractions I didn’t belong. As an immigrant in this country, I regularly meet people who hear my accent and ask about where I am ‘really’ from, a question that suggests I am in a place where I don’t belong. According to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, ‘belonging’ falls right in the middle of what a person needs to survive and thrive. It is not as important as basic physical and safety needs, but it is necessary in order for us to develop our self-esteem and to experience self-actualisation. So psychology tells us that we have to belong, or feel accepted and loved by others, before we are able to fully accept and love ourselves. 

Both our readings from today talk about belonging in some way. In Acts, it is about the Gentiles belonging to God and the community of believers, and in John it is about belonging to God and each other. The reading from Acts describes how the Gentiles experienced the Holy Spirit when they heard Peter preaching. The Gentiles, who were seen as outsiders by the circumcised believers, were filled by the Holy Spirit and began speaking in tongues and extolling God. This group of people do not fit the expectations of those following Peter, so Peter has to explicitly order that these Gentiles be baptised. He recognises that in the holy waters of Christ, there are no outsiders. And so this group of Gentiles, who were once on the outside, move into the acceptance and belonging of Jesus through the waters of baptism. This group of Gentiles, who faithful followers said did not belong, were overcome by the Holy Spirit. Because every single person belongs according to the Holy Spirit since we were all made in the image of God. And to be clear, that image is not a set criteria, but rather a plethora of images which we see reflected in the diversity of the human race. 

We then have the message from the Gospel reading, which is quite clear: love one another, just as Christ loves you. Loving others and feeling loved by others is the basic definition of belonging. And the love from Christ which we are told to express for each other is not something superficial, but a deep bond, one in which we abide with Christ. We live in Christ, and Christ lives in us through his love for us and our love for him. But that love is only fully expressed through loving each other. Loving each other, allowing for each of us to feel that sense of belonging, is what shows our love for Christ. It is impossible to love Christ without loving each other, and if we do not love each other, then we do not love Christ. 

I appreciate this can be a difficult idea to accept, especially when you come across challenging people. You may be familiar with the saying, ‘you will never look into the eyes of someone God does not love.’ I often turn to this saying when I find someone challenging to love. But I also remember that not only does God love the person I find challenging, God also loves me, with all my flaws and imperfections. God actually sees me, and all people, as perfect because we were all made in God’s image. And it is because of this unconditional, unfailing love from God that I am able to feel like I truly belong somewhere. I may be an outsider in various ways, but when it comes to the love of God, I know I am always on the inside, I always belong. I know that the love of God lives inside of me. And I know that the love of God lives inside each one of you, my sisters and brothers.

Let this be a reminder: If ever there is a time when you feel like you don’t belong, when you are told by people, or institutions, or governments that you are not allowed because of who you are as a person, whether it’s because of your gender or race or sexuality or ability or immigration status, remember who you are. Remember you are the beloved child of God, made in the image of God, and you belong to God. You will always belong. And because you always belong in the love of God, then all who you meet also belong in the love of God. It is through God’s love that we love each other, so we not only belong to God, but we also belong to each other. And we show that belonging through loving each other. Because the greatest command is to love God and love each other. So let us rise up as one church and go out to fulfil this command: Love!

Sermon on John 10:11-18 (The Good Shepherd)

Sermon on John 10:11-18
Originally given at Holy Cross Wyken, Coventry on 21 April 2024

Whenever I hear today’s Gospel passage, I’m always taken back to when my first born was 2 years old, and his favourite song in the whole world was ‘The Baa Baa Song’. For those of you who have not had the joy of hearing ‘The Baa Baa Song’, or even better seeing the video for it, it is based on today’s Gospel reading, reminding us that Jesus is the Good Shepherd. The lyrics for the chorus are, ‘Baa baa, He’s the Good Shepherd, anywhere I go he knows. Baa baa, He is my Saviour, I will follow where he goes.’ It might not be on par with the likes of Charles Wesley or Matt Redman, but it has got some good theology, especially for a two-year-old. 

Honestly, I think one of the best parts of today’s Gospel passage is its accessibility. So often we have to do a kind of deep dive into the parables of Jesus and even need further interpretations of his explanations. But the parable of the Good Shepherd is fairly straightforward, if you’re familiar with sheep and shepherds. And that is exactly the audience Jesus was talking to two thousand years ago, a group of people who knew very well the job of a shepherd, the status of a shepherd, and how a shepherd could do his job well. 

But, on the other hand, maybe two thousand years later, living in an urban setting, we’ve become a bit too disconnected from our agrarian roots to appreciate what Jesus really means in saying he is the Good Shepherd. Furthermore, I’m not sure we can appreciate the social commentary Jesus is making by comparing himself, the King of Kings, to a shepherd, the lowest rung on the social ladder. So how could we modernise and urbanise the idea of the Good Shepherd?

What if I were to say Jesus is the Good Politician? I appreciate that politicians don’t tick the box for being of low social status, but I think they are almost universally viewed as being the lowest on the moral ladder. So going with this analogy, Jesus is the ‘Good Politician’. He knows all of his constituents by name and knows what they desire from the system. He fights for each of their best interests, even if it means an end to his political career. He puts their needs above his own.

Another thought – the Good White Van Man. The idea of ‘the white van man’ is so wrapped up in layers of stereotypes and assumptions, and regardless of how many good, hard-working men (or women) you meet who happen to drive a white van for their job, I’ve discovered that society in general seems to have a low opinion of the idea of ‘the white van man’. So let’s say Jesus is the ‘Good White Van Man’. He knows the appliances of all his clients. He ensures none of his clients ever have to wait for a call out, and he doesn’t charge extortionate rates for repairs, even if that means his business will fail. He puts the needs of his clients above his own.

I think both of these analogies, while perhaps more understandable to modern urban ears, fall short of a key aspect of the idea of the Good Shepherd that Jesus is for us. The fact that he would, and in fact did, lay down his life for his sheep, his followers. The loss of career or business is hard, but it is not comparable to willingly sacrificing your life for the people you love, so that they themselves can have an abundant life. 

Now I say Jesus gave up his life for his followers, but in the Gospel Jesus also mentions other sheep not of this flock. So this makes the love of Christ even more magnificent. He freely gave everything not only for those who loved him, but also for those who didn’t know him yet. This is the awesome promise of the Kingdom of God, that we will be joined together with all of our loved ones. Because Jesus didn’t die for some of us. Jesus didn’t die for an exclusive club of people that follow strict laws. He didn’t die for an inside group of a few people. He died for every single one of us. Even the people you don’t like, or the people you don’t agree with, or the people you don’t understand. Jesus knows each of his flock by name, but he also knows the name of those outside his flock. Those who he will one day bring into his fold, so that Jesus will be one shepherd, guiding one flock.

Going back to the lyrics of the ‘Baa Baa Song’, I think we can understand the first part of ‘He’s the Good Shepherd, anywhere I go he knows’, but what about the next half – ‘He is my Saviour, I will follow where he goes.’ We know that as the Good Shepherd, Jesus went to his death on the cross in order to prepare a way for each of us, but are we willing to follow Jesus to the cross? We are fortunate to live in a country where we are free to worship and express our faith without fear of the threat of violence or death, so maybe it feels unrealistic to ask in our context whether we are willing to follow Jesus to the cross. So let me clarify that following Jesus to the cross isn’t just about a violent, physical death on a bit of wood. It’s about living a life that reflects the radical love of Christ for everyone. It’s about unlimited hospitality to your neighbour who doesn’t look like you, or think like you, or love like you, or live like you. Truly following Jesus is meant to be the most challenging experience of your life, because it is so subversive and counter-cultural. To follow Jesus, you are asked to unconditionally love everyone. Not because you’re the Good Shepherd, but because the Good Shepherd unconditionally loves you.

Sermon on John 3:14-21 (Mothering Sunday)

Sermon on John 3:14-21 (Mothering Sunday)
Originally given 10 March 2024 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

The other week, I attended a church as a guest and heard a sermon that could be described as exclusivist. In the context of Christian theology, an exclusivist is someone who believes that only Christians have salvation. I was surprised to hear the teaching in a sermon, because I couldn’t imagine I would ever preach that one must be exclusivist in order to be Christian. If for no other reason than because there is an accepted theologically wide spectrum on the idea of salvation for Christians, which ranges from exclusivist to inclusivist to universalist. So I don’t think it’s appropriate to say you should follow one school of thought over another. 

I think most of you probably know me well enough to know I do have opinions on the subject, and some of you may have been able to figure out where I stand on the matter, but I don’t think it’s my job to tell you what you should think when it comes to your personal faith. In fact, I was so shocked about the sermon I heard, that I flat out told Barney I would never preach on that topic. So, knowing God’s sense of humour, of course today I find myself preaching on exclusivism. Well, not explicitly on exclusivism, but the ideas about salvation within Christianity and why our Gospel reading today can be seen as controversial.

On the surface, as believing Christians, we might think it’s obvious that Christ is our guiding light. But this becomes a bit more problematic when we consider the billions of people who follow a different faith, the billions of people who still follow the command of Christ to love your neighbour as yourself but do not believe in Christ as the incarnate Son of God. And this is why there is debate among Christians concerning salvation, and why there is a wide spectrum of belief on the idea of salvation which ranges from exclusivist to inclusivist to universalist.

An exclusivist would say John 3:18 is clear – nobody can enter the Kingdom of heaven unless they believe in the only Son of God. An inclusivist could be described as slightly less restrictive, but is still quite a broad spectrum itself. They would generally say that people of other faiths might not be condemned per se, but they will only secure salvation through belief in Christ. Finally, a universalist would say that all are saved regardless of belief because of God’s limitless power and love for all. They might point to the verse we read today from Ephesians that says, ‘For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.’ 

I’m not going to tell you what you have to believe, but I will say that whatever you believe, you can still treat everyone with respect and love your neighbour as Christ commanded. Now, I’m a big fan of the show Call the Midwife, and this show is brilliant at showing what Christ’s love looks like. It’s one of those shows that usually leaves me crying, sometimes bawling, and more often than not asking why I put myself through such an emotional roller coaster every week! In any case, I would highly recommend it to you if you haven’t seen it, because it always has a positive message that reminds you of God’s love. This past Sunday was the finale, and it did not disappoint. I’m guessing the writers knew it would fall just before Mothering Sunday and so the plot involves a ‘Best Mother’ competition. 

I just need to pause to say that I appreciate Mothering Sunday is not historically about mothers, and I have preached before on the secularisation and Americanisation of this church day. But, although it’s not historically meant to be a holiday to celebrate mothers, that is what Mothering Sunday has become. So, I am going to talk about mothers, but please do not despair because, like Call the Midwife, I recognise that motherhood can come in various forms.

Based purely on the name of the show Call the Midwife one might assume that it is only about traditional, biological mothers. But throughout its history, the show has shown various aspects of motherhood. There is even one character who is a step mother, adoptive mother, biological mother, and foster mother all in one, who has also battled with infertility, and whose children simply view her as their mother without any qualifiers. In addition to so many other stories of mothers, the show often tells stories of the women who were forced to give up their children because they lived in a time that did not allow for single mothers. But the best part of the finale for me was that the person who won the best mother competition was Sister Julien – someone who would not identify herself as a mother because she has never reared children of her own. But throughout the show, Sister Julien has always shown the love of a good mother in her interactions with others with patience, kindness, and grace. She has been a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. She has given words of consolation and wisdom. She is the calm and steady rock through the many storms that have come to the show’s streets of Poplar. 

On this Mothering Sunday, I think we could all learn something from the character of Sister Julien. You don’t have to give birth to someone or have a legal right over someone to be their mother. You don’t even have to be older than someone to be their mother. Being a good mother is simply loving others as Christ so loved us. This is the love that every single one of us has been given. The grace of God, meaning undeserved favour. Each of us is so completely loved by God, that it only makes sense to share that love with others. 

So wherever you fall on the spectrum of thought concerning salvation, you have the opportunity to share the love freely given to you by our Almighty Mother God. God, the exemplary example of what love is.

Sermon on John 2.1-11 (wedding at Cana)

Sermon on John 2.1-11 (wedding at Cana)
Originally given 21 January 2024 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

Audio for sermon

‘Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.’

Whenever I read this quote from Jesus, I find it somewhat confusing and, as a mother, slightly irritating. If Jesus says ‘my hour has not yet come’ then why does he end up performing the sign of turning water to wine? And does he have to get so mouthy with his mother about it? If it’s not time for the rest of the world to know who Jesus is, why does he end up fixing the problem of the wine running out?

Before answering those questions though, let’s back up a bit. Four weeks ago, we celebrated the birth of Christ, and in today’s Gospel reading, we heard about the beginning of Christ’s ministry…Kids really do grow up quickly, don’t they? Joking aside, I wonder what Mary must have thought about the start of her son’s ministry, and if she questioned his seeming shortness towards her. In John’s Gospel we don’t have the angel Gabriel’s visit to Mary, or the birth narrative, or the song of Simeon. The wedding at Cana is the first time we are told of the mother of Jesus, and she’s not even given a name. My time in theological college taught me that remaining nameless in John’s Gospel is meant to be an honour, so we shouldn’t take it as an insult that Mary isn’t named here. But I do find it interesting that she’s only mentioned twice in the Gospel of John: The first time in today’s reading, with the wedding at Cana being the start of Jesus’ ministry, and the second time at the foot of the cross, the end of Jesus’ ministry. And at that point, along with the disciple whom Jesus loved, she is still nameless.  

So we find the mother of Jesus at the start and end of his ministry. You could say she forms the bookends for Jesus’ ministry, and as a book lover I can tell you there is a foundational necessity for bookends. I admit, I am quite a fan of Mother Mary, partially because I view her as a raging feminist like myself. I don’t buy into the culture of Mary meek and mild, because I don’t think you could be meek or mild to say yes to God, facing the possibility of public shame or death. Another reason to celebrate Mary, besides the obvious that she is the Christ-bearer, is that we could say she was the first disciple. Of course she wasn’t called by Jesus like Andrew or Peter or Nathanael, but she was already a follower of Jesus before his time had come, before anyone else knew who he was. When Mary said yes to God in her Magnificat, she was saying yes to following God and yes to following Jesus. This would make Mother Mary a model disciple.

So what does a model disciple do? She tells Jesus the wine is running out. Mary identifies a problem, and then goes to tell Jesus the problem. She doesn’t instruct Jesus as to what the solution might be, she just observes there is a problem and tells Jesus knowing that he will have the solution. In fact, she is so confident that Jesus will have a solution that she tells the servants to do as he says. There is no doubt for Mary that Jesus will fix this problem. And the cheeky response doesn’t even make her bat an eye!

Some of you have heard me talk about my church dad who my boys called Uncle Tony. Uncle Tony was a faithful Christian and a model for my own faith. He once told me that when he was younger if he faced a difficult situation he would always sing to himself ‘What a Friend We Have in Jesus’. This song says all our troubles can be taken to Jesus in prayer. So Uncle Tony and Mother Mary both knew that for any problem, Jesus was the solution. Or, as Karl Barth is claimed to have said, ‘Jesus is the answer, what’s the question?’

In any case, we know that we must bring it all to Jesus. We must tell Jesus the wine is running out. But where is the wine running out? Is the wine running out in your home? Is it running out in the Church? I think we can all see the wine is running out in the world. This week is the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, and it feels like now more than ever the world needs both prayer and unity. From natural disasters to war-torn countries, the world is desperately thirsty for Jesus. So what can we do? Well, like Uncle Tony, take it to the Lord in prayer, and like Mother Mary, tell Jesus the wine is running out.

Of course, Jesus may not respond how you’d like. He might say that it’s not yet time. This is hard to hear. They say the three answers to prayer are ‘yes’, ‘no’, and ‘not yet’. Anything other than an immediate yes is hard for us to hear, because we have our own time for things, what we think is the correct time. And our time is not always the same as God’s time, but rest assured, God is always in time. God knows when the time is right, even if we may feel a bit impatient. At the wedding at Cana, Jesus provided the wine at a time when the steward commented that the good wine was saved for the last, so Jesus knew when the most effective timing would be. As it is with all things in life. All we have to do is take our troubles to Jesus, and he will have the right solution at the right time.

Go tell Jesus the wine is running out, and he will make sure the best is yet to come.

Sermon on John 14:1-14 (Coronation Sunday)

Sermon on John 14:1-14
Originally given 07 May 2023 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

Audio for Sermon

As I get closer to my due date, I think more and more about space. Of course the baby will share our room at the beginning, so we’ve got a bedside cot and a changing table in our bedroom with our king size bed and double wardrobe and night stands. In one room we’re trying to fit all the baby stuff in with our stuff, and it does feel like a bit of a squeeze. We are fortunate to have more than just one room though – the boys also share a room. They have the smallest room, but it fits a bunk bed, a wardrobe, and a bookcase that’s also a display cabinet. And then we have the spacious guest room. Although it’s technically a spare room and if space gets tight we can use it, we feel strongly about keeping it as a guest room. With all our family living a distance, we always want them to have the option to stay with us, especially since we haven’t always had that option in previous houses we’ve lived in. But we also want to show hospitality for friends and family, allowing them to feel at home whenever they stay. Ensuring that in our house there is always room.

With the space in our house seemingly decreasing, it’s hard to imagine a house that has space  for everyone. But as it’s the weekend of the Coronation, I suppose Buckingham palace, with over 200 bedrooms, is a good starting place for the imagination. According to Google, there are 52 guest and royal bedrooms, as well as 188 bedrooms for staff. I wonder how these rooms differ. I wonder if the beds are of different quality depending on if it’s for a guest or for a staff member. I wonder if there’s different linen used for guests or staff. I wonder how many bedrooms have an ensuite; or a nice view out the window. I wonder if the guest rooms have a facility for ringing servants like on Downton Abbey. I wonder about all these things about a house that exists, because I find it so hard to imagine the house that Jesus tells us about in the Gospel.

Depending on the translation of the Bible you read, Jesus talks about many rooms, many dwelling places, or even many mansions. And then he says each and every one of us will have one of these rooms, dwelling places, or mansions prepared for us by Jesus. This Gospel reading is often used at funerals as a reminder that this life does not end in our mortal death, but rather we go on to that place that Jesus has prepared for us. That place beyond our imagination. I wonder what kind of place Jesus has prepared for me? As God, who knitted us together in our mothers’ wombs, knows our innermost workings it must be a place that reflects our innermost desires. How indescribably joyful to imagine a place that is set specifically to all our wants and needs. Jesus describes just this place, and then our friend Thomas asks the crucial question, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’

The next verse is seen as foundational to Christian belief, but it is also one of the most controversial statements, debated among Christians for centuries. Jesus responds, ‘I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through me.’ On the surface, as believing Christians, we might think this is an obvious Christian truth. We have accepted Christ Jesus because we know Christ to be the way to our salvation. We know the way to the unimaginable Father’s house in heaven is through following the way of Christ. But this becomes a bit more problematic when we consider the billions of people who follow a different way, the billions of people who still follow the command of Christ to love your neighbour as yourself but do not believe in Christ as the incarnate Son of God. And this is why there is debate among Christians concerning salvation, and why there is a theological wide spectrum on the idea of salvation which ranges from exclusivist to inclusivist to universalist.

An exclusivist would say John 14:6 is clear – nobody can enter the Kingdom of heaven unless they accept and follow Jesus Christ as the one true way. Exclusivists might also point to the verse from Matthew 7:14 that says, ‘small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it,’ as a way to illustrate that not all people will have a place in the Father’s house. An inclusivist could be described as slightly less restrictive, but is still quite a broad spectrum itself. They would generally say that people of other faiths might still be able to find a place in our Father’s house, but they will only secure salvation through belief in Christ. Finally, a universalist would say that all are saved regardless of belief because of God’s limitless power and love for all. They would point to the verse from 1 Timothy 2 that says God ‘desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.’ The bottom line of this thinking is that because God loves every single person and wants everyone to be saved, then all people will have space in our Father’s house. 

I’m not here to tell you which of these three is the best way to believe, or even which one I think is the most correct. I don’t have all the answers for how people should live their life or practise their faith. What I will say is that during the Coronation service, our King Charles prayed to God, ‘Grant that I may be a blessing to all children of every faith and belief.’ So whether or not people have a Faith or not, we can still love all people. And whether you identify as exclusivist, inclusivist, or universalist, you are still fully and completely loved by God. And I believe whether you have fully accepted Christ into your heart or are still on a journey to knowing Christ better, you are still wonderfully and fearfully made by our Creator God who loves every single hair on your head. As Jesus said, ‘do not let your hearts be troubled’. You are loved, and there is a room prepared for you.

Sermon on John 10:1-10

Sermon on John 10:1-10 and Acts 2:42-47
Originally given 30 April 2023 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

Human nature seems to gravitate toward false gods. I don’t think we do it on purpose, but often these false gods offer something easier or more appealing. The most obvious false gods are things like ‘get rich quick’ schemes or ‘lose weight fast’ fads. But with elections approaching, I can’t help but notice false gods among politicians. And as an American-born British citizen, there are disturbing similarities on both sides of the pond.

Now before I go on a political tangent, I have to address the fact that people will often say clergy and politics don’t mix. In recent news, when Archbishop Justin Welby spoke out against the inhumane government refugee policy, he was met with criticism to stay in his lane. A few years ago, after the murder of George Floyd, our own Bishop Christopher and Bishop John took a knee in the Cathedral ruins as a sign of solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement, which ruffled more than a few feathers. Personally, I often preach against racism, sexism, and homophobia as well as all other forms of prejudice which have been politicised, and on my social media account I ensure everyone knows I wear red on election day. In response, I have had a handful of critics reminding me that it’s not my place to be political. 

I have to say, I don’t quite understand how someone can come away from reading the Gospel and suggest religion and politics don’t mix. In our Acts reading today we heard that the life of the new believers involved selling all their possessions and redistributing their wealth for those in most need. This suggests that the early church was, shall we say, almost Communist, or at least Socialist. And in the Gospel reading when Jesus referred to thieves, he was making a veiled attack against those in power. In fact, in all of Jesus’ teachings he is critical of the establishment and seeks to bolster the marginalised. The Gospel message is a political one; the Good News is about subverting authority and giving power to the lowly. As we see from the Beatitudes in Luke’s Gospel, those who are poor, hungry, weeping, and hated are the ones that Jesus speaks blessings to. So since I believe as a Christian leader it is in fact my place, and even responsibility, to speak into political situations, I’ll return to these false gods within politics.

Politicians seem to have a way with words, and quite often also a way with the truth. Our Gospel reading talking about sheep and shepherds reminded me of a cartoon that highlighted this fact about politicians. In August of 2016, The New Yorker printed this cartoon from Paul Noth.

It shows a wolf on a billboard proclaiming, ‘I’m going to eat you’ and a few impressed sheep underneath explaining, ‘he tells it like it is.’ By razzle dazzling the sheep with his honesty, the wolf is able to escape any scrutiny concerning his policy of eating sheep. Of course the sheep will die, but the wolf can’t be blamed since he was telling the truth, or rather ‘telling it like it is’. Political honesty is a very complicated false god, and one could easily use the metaphor of a wolf in sheep’s clothing to understand this concept of political honesty. It’s the corruption of politics dressed up with the morality of honesty, making it difficult to discern our own best interest. So the easy way is to just listen to what sounds like truth from the political mouthpieces. It’s much more difficult to research actual platforms and policies. The easy way is to vote for policies that sound like we will personally benefit the most. It’s more difficult to vote for policies that benefit all people. The easy way is to ride along with the status quo. It’s more difficult to challenge unjust structures of authority.

When we properly look at all the false gods of wealth, health, and politics, I think the overarching false god is that of ease or comfort. I’ve quoted before the former Archbishop Michael Ramsey who once said, ‘the duty of the church is to comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable,’ and this is what I am pushing for. As people of the Church, if we feel comfortable with our lifestyles, something must be out of place. Or rather, if we feel comfortable, but our sisters and brothers who are our neighbours both near and far are struggling with poverty, war, prejudice,  then we cannot remain comfortably silent. When you go to the polls on Thursday, I remind you to bring your ID, but I also encourage you to vote in a way that will comfort the disturbed, a way that will subvert the false god of power and uplift the marginalised. I encourage you to do the hard work of researching the policies and seeing past the wolf’s false honesty.

But what’s all this got to do with Jesus as a shepherd? At the time of Jesus, a good shepherd, among other things, would lay across the sheep’s pen to act as a gate, preventing wolves and thieves from getting in. Jesus is our shepherd, and we are his sheep. Jesus protects us from the wolves and thieves, from those who use trickery to scam us and those who use power to subjugate us. But it is our responsibility to listen to our shepherd, to listen to Jesus. To recognise his voice over the shouts of false gods. It may not be easy, but the path to abundant life is through our true, good shepherd, not the false gods that give us false hopes.

Guest Preacher’s Sermon on John 20:19-31 (Doubting Thomas)

On Sunday, 16 April 2023, my first born child gave a sermon on John 20:19-31 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry. It was his eight birthday. Below is his written sermon.

Dear Heavenly Father, may you bless me and my church family as I speak. Amen.

Today, I will be talking about the story of ‘Doubting Thomas’. Thomas, who was also known as Didymus, was one of the 12 disciples, but during the time our Gospel reading takes place, there would have only been 11 disciples since Judas Iscariot had betrayed Jesus at this point. This reading happens after the crucifixion and resurrection. But the disciples did not all know about the resurrection at first. They were together in a locked room, but Thomas was not there.

Thomas was not just a doubting person. In other verses in John he is brave, curious, nervous, sad, all sorts of things. Thomas is mentioned seven times in the New Testament: three times in the Gospel of John, and once in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and Acts. The times he is mentioned outside of John, we only hear his name in a list of disciples, which makes him look less special because it doesn’t help us to really know about Thomas. But in the Gospel of John, we hear more about Thomas and his personality.

The first time we meet Thomas in John’s Gospel, is chapter 11 verse 16, “Then Thomas (also known as Didymus) said to the rest of the disciples, ‘Let us also go, that we may die with him.” This was when Jesus wanted to go back to Judea to heal Lazarus, even though he had just left because they wanted to stone him. The other disciples tried to stop Jesus from going to Judea, but Thomas decided, ‘let us go with our Lord and die with him.’ This shows that Thomas is a brave person and that he had really strong faith in Jesus, who was also a friend.

The second time Thomas speaks is John chapter 14 verse 5, “Thomas said to him, ‘Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” At this point, Jesus has said he is going to his Father’s house and telling his disciples that they know the way, and Thomas curiously asks Jesus where he is going. This shows Thomas is not only curious, but possibly a nervous person too because he didn’t know what was going to happen.

Finally, the third time Thomas speaks is what we heard in today’s Gospel reading, and this the reason why Thomas is called ‘Doubting Thomas.’ As I have already said, Thomas is not only doubting, he’s also brave, curious, nervous, and in this morning’s reading he is a mixture of emotions, too. He is sad because he was mourning and missed Jesus. He was brave because even when the Jewish leaders wanted to possibly kill the disciples, he didn’t stay locked in the room with the other disciples. But because of this, he did not believe the other disciples when they said Jesus had appeared. That is not all of his emotions in today’s passage though. He also must have been shocked when he did see Jesus and think, ‘oh my goodness! It’s a ghost!’ But finally, after he put his hands in the wounds, he believed. But the main thing Thomas is, is faithful. He is a good role model for our faith because he followed Jesus completely, he was even willing to die with Jesus, and in the end he fully recognised Jesus as ‘My Lord and my God!’

Today I spoke a lot about Thomas, and how he had many different emotions, not just doubt. It is very normal to doubt, but sometimes when you doubt you won’t be able to accomplish anything. It’s normal to have questions and not understand, but it’s important to not stay in doubt. Instead, learn from Thomas and when we see Jesus in our life, bless him.

Sermon on Mothering Sunday (Colossians 3:12-17 and John 19:25-27)

Sermon for Mothering Sunday (Colossians 3:12-17 and John 19.25-27)
Originally given 19 March 2023 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

Everybody wants to save the world. Nobody wants to help do the dishes…or the laundry, or the cooking, or the cleaning, or the endless list of domestic chores that often (but not always) fall on a mother. Perhaps these two ideas seem so laughably disconnected, but are mothers not part of the world. In helping just one person you can help save, at the very least, their world…just like the starfish I talked about a few weeks ago.

I’ve started with talking about mothers because today is called Mothering Sunday. But Mothering Sunday isn’t about mothers. At least, not historically. Historically it was simply a day in the Church that people would return to visit their ‘Mother Church’, which was the church where they were first baptised and officially became part of the church family. Despite the historical origins, the day has morphed into something quite different, and perhaps more American and more secular. It’s a day when children are expected to tell their mothers how wonderful they are. But what if their mothers aren’t wonderful? Or what if their mothers are no longer on this earth to be told how wonderful they were? It’s also a time when mothers get to feel special for the life they’ve been able to give to another human. But we don’t talk about the childless mothers. The people who struggle with infertility, or the people whose children have died. We don’t talk about the babies that were born sleeping or the babies that were never even named. We don’t discuss the pressure from society that if you do have a child or children after a loss, you’re meant to somehow move on from or even forget about the one or ones that are no longer with you, or the one you never got to hold. Because all these conversations are just a bit too uncomfortable. In church, there seems to be a pervasive belief that we’re meant to talk only about the joyful things, leaving no space for lament.

I don’t think that’s what Jesus wants for us though. In today’s Gospel reading he addresses his mother and his beloved disciple, naming these two as each other’s son and mother. He knew the deep grief his mother and his disciple would feel at his death, and so he gave them to each other for comfort in their time of sorrow. And the brilliant thing about the beloved disciple is that they remain nameless. So the beloved disciple works out as anyone who Jesus loved, or anyone who Jesus loves. So you are the beloved disciple. And therefore you have a mother to love and comfort. A perfect mother who loves and comforts you. Jesus does not expect us to avoid grief or mourning, but Jesus gives us a path through that grief. And when that grief feels overwhelming, we have the knowledge that we are surrounded by the beloved disciples to carry us through when we have no strength for the journey. That doesn’t mean we pretend we’re not hurting. To be human is to experience pain, which Jesus knows only too well. But when we openly lament, when we openly grieve, when we openly hurt, we can then open ourselves to the love of Christ to start to heal with the help of the beloved disciples whom Jesus has given us in our lives.

This takes us to the Colossians reading, full of advice for how we should live in faith and how we should help others to live in their faith. Verse 15 tells us, ‘Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace.’ The Christian faith is not an isolated island. We are a community. We celebrate Holy Communion together not only with all who are present in this specific location and time, but also with all around the world, with all who have come before us and with all who will follow after us. The Christian faith is about relationship. Yes, our personal relationship with God, but just as importantly our relationship with each other. So we see in verse 14 it says, ‘And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.’ The law given by Jesus is to love God and to love each other, and both of these together form the entire law. One is not greater than the other, and they are one in the same. In loving God, we love each other, and in loving each other, we love God. In this we are acting as the beloved disciples, and we are also acting as mothers. 

So as we come to this Mothering Sunday, I implore you, do not let your hearts be discouraged. We all come with our different stories and different experiences. Some of you may be joyfully looking forward to celebrating this day with your biological mothers or your biological children. Or maybe you’re looking forward to honouring someone who has filled the role of mother for you. Some of you may have come dreading this day due to estrangement or bereavement. But know that whatever your earthly experience is, we have a hope that is greater than this. In Christ Jesus, we know we are all the beloved disciples, loved by our perfect Mothering Father. And in our Christian faith, we know we all take on the caring, nurturing, and loving role of a perfect mother for their child. So I say to all of you, look at each other, this is your child. And look at each other, this is your mother. And above all else, look to the Lord your God, who is always with you through the people who are beside you in your journey, the people who love you, the people who mother you through God’s perfect love.

Homily for Ash Wednesday (John 8:1-11)

Homily for Ash Wednesday (John 8:1-11)
Originally given 22 February 2023 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

I recently read about a common Christian confusion between optimism and hope. Optimism is saying everything will be okay despite all your struggles, that your struggles will make you stronger. Hope is recognising that regardless of your struggles or triumphs, you will one day return to dust. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. It’s not a very cheerful concept, recognising our mortality, but it’s important that we do so. We are not immortal. We are not God. We are but dust.

In a few moments, when you come up to receive the ashes on your forehead I will say to you, ‘Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return. Turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ.’ On this day, we remember our fleeting presence on this earth, and we are reminded how we should use that time – ‘turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ.’

Some things are easier said than done. All of us struggle at times to turn away from sin. And even if we try to avoid personal sin, we are surrounded by corporate, systemic sin in the form of unjust structures enabling sexism, racism, homophobia, ableism, and all other forms of prejudice. It can feel overwhelming when we consider we are part of an entire system that is broken. 

But although it can feel overwhelming to look at the whole picture, we can still make a difference by looking at one piece at a time. One small act of justice. One embrace with a grieving friend. One piece of rubbish picked up off the street. One kind word to the person checking our groceries. In the Gospel, one by one, each individual person reflected on their own sins and walked away. They were individuals, but with their single action, the woman was saved from being stoned.

Everyday we are given the opportunity to take a single action that causes a ripple of difference. The other day Reverend Zoe reminded me of the starfish story. For those not familiar with the story, it’s about a young girl walking along a beach upon which thousands of starfish had been washed up. When she came to each starfish, she would pick it up, and throw it back into the ocean. Then a man approached her and said, “Little girl, why are you doing this? Look at this beach! You can’t save all these starfish. You can’t begin to make a difference!” So the little girl bent down, picked up another starfish, and hurled it as far as she could into the ocean. Then she looked up at the man and replied, ‘I made a difference for that one.’

Everyday we are surrounded by starfish waiting for us to make a difference for them in our small actions. Everyday we have the chance to turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ in our actions. Because there will come a day when we will no longer be able to act, when we will once again turn to dust. We are but mere mortals. But our actions of mercy, justice, and Christian love are immortal and will change the world. 

So look with hope to the future in which we are all again dust, but the legacy of the Gospel lives on.

Sermon for the Service of National Mourning for Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II

Sermon originally given 11 September 2022 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

No matter how old someone is, I don’t think we can ever be fully ready for the death of someone we hold dear. And although it really makes no sense that so many people could be heartbroken over the death of a person they didn’t actually know personally, I know countless people are grieving at the death of Her Majesty, the Queen. Some might assume that as American-born, I would be a raging republican and unattached to the death of a person some saw as a symbol of imperialism. But Her Majesty was for me a symbol of so much more. On a personal level, she was the Queen I swore allegiance to when I became a British citizen and when I was ordained. She was my Queen. Two days after the attack on the twin towers in the United States 21 years ago today, the Queen instructed the Royal Guard to break tradition and play the American National Anthem at the changing of the guard to show her support for and solidarity with grieving Americans. This is only one of many stories where the Queen showed her support for people from around the world, so as French President Macron said, for the world over, she was THE Queen. And most of us have only ever known a world with Elizabeth as the Queen. There were people who saw her as just a symbol of monarchy or leadership, but in her life she was not only Queen, she was also a devoted wife, a loving mother and grandmother, and, perhaps most importantly for her, a faithful Christian. This is the image of the Queen that remains the strongest for me. The countless times she referenced her faith and belief in Jesus Christ, and the way she showed her faith in kindness and warmth with the millions of people she would meet. 

When the sad news broke about her death, I’m sure many of you noticed a rainbow appeared over Buckingham palace and Windsor castle. A rainbow, a reminder for Christians of God’s promises. How truly appropriate. On her 21st birthday, the then Princess Elizabeth made a promise to serve her people throughout her life, and she renewed that promise at her coronation. Over the course of her 70-year reign, she strove to live up to that promise. She didn’t necessarily get everything right, but she always tried to do the best with the situations she faced, and tried to be a servant to and for the people. During her Christmas messages over the years, she would often point to her model of servant leadership, Jesus Christ. The King of Kings, who Queen Elizabeth explicitly spoke of time and again as the rock of her faith. Her life of service which we can hear reflected in the Gospel reading when Jesus says he came to fulfil the will of his father. The Queen tried her best to also fulfil the will of God, loving her neighbour and carrying out her duties to the best of her abilities. 

In our Gospel reading, we also heard about the bread of life. This does not refer to literal bread, but the nourishment we receive from our faith in Christ Jesus. This is the nourishment which sustained the Queen throughout her life, and the nourishment that we Christians gain through our faith especially in challenging times, such as times of loss and grief. There are references throughout the Bible to the sustenance we gain from God, including from our Old Testament reading today, which says ‘The Lord is my portion’. If we just hold on to our faith, we can be supported through all the trials of life. 

My heart goes out to the royal family at this time. It must be incredibly difficult to continue with their daily business, unable to properly stop and have some space for themselves. I can’t imagine having to move on with business without a second to mourn the loss of their beloved matriarch. But for all who grieve, comfort can be found in God’s promises. ‘I will raise you up on the last day.’ This is not the end, and we will meet again one happy day. And her Majesty can at long last lay down her crown at the feet of our heavenly King.

But for now, we look to the future, to a new world where the Queen is no longer. I pray that King Charles III will follow closely in his mother’s footsteps, that he will use her as a model of Christian leadership. I pray that he will practice servant leadership, and that he will find sustenance in his Christian faith. All things come to an end, and we grieve the loss of our Queen. But let us look with hope to the new day that has come. 

God save the King.