Sermon on the first Sunday of Advent (Matthew 24:36-44 and Isaiah 2:1-5)

Sermon on the first Sunday of Advent (Matthew 24:36-44 and Isaiah 2:1-5
Originally given 27 November 2022 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

‘In the days to come…nation shall not lift up sword against nation;
neither shall they learn war any more…
    come, let us walk
in the light of the Lord!’

These words from Isaiah are incredibly powerful, but in our modern world, shockingly unbelievable. To imagine a day in the future with no violence, no war, a day where we all walk in the light of the Lord, seems not only unimaginable, but even naive. Just turning on the news and looking at the state of the world we currently live in could easily leave us feeling… hopeless.

But today is the first Sunday of Advent, the Sunday of hope. And Isaiah gives us an image to hope for – an image of turning swords into ploughshares and spears into pruning hooks. Now of course we no longer use swords and spears as much as guns and grenades, but the metaphor can still work. The future hope for weapons of destruction is that they become tools for creation. The hope is that we all contribute by walking in the light of the Lord, loving all our sisters and brothers. That instead of tearing each other down with words or actions, we will build each other up.

In the Gospel reading, Jesus tells us to be always prepared because we do not know when he will return, he tells us to stay awake. To keep hope, because Christ will come again at an unknown day and hour. Now this thought may fill some people with anxiety because of the unknown. People generally like to plan. But it’s okay when things don’t go exactly to plan, and it’s also okay if we don’t know the exact plan. We don’t have to worry about the unknown, because God knows. And truly God is the only one who needs to know, because God can make all things work for good. And whether or not we know the ins and outs of all of God’s plans, we still need to continue to carry the hope, the light, of the Lord. But in a world filled with darkness, what does that even look like?

I recently came across a sermon looking at the term ‘woke’ and comparing it to Jesus telling us to be awake. Terms like woke, and political correctness, and virtue signalling have been tossed around so much in the past few years, but whenever I’ve heard Christians use these words it’s more often than not in a negative sense. I once heard a Christian minister say woke was basically political correctness on steroids, to which other ministers responded with eyerolls and chuckles. In the era of ‘Me too’ I’ve heard many Christians say the movement is just political correctness gone mad, as they don’t see any big deal with ‘innocently’ touching someone…with or without permission. And I’ve heard the term virtue signalling used countless times as an insult against fellow Christians who are pointing out injustices, whether that’s highlighting racist institutions, criticising the treatment of refugees by the government, or wearing a rainbow flag in support of the LGBTQ+ community, just to name a few things. So, although I thought I had a general idea to their meaning, I decided to look up the definition for each word:

Woke – alert to injustice in society, especially racism

Political correctness – the avoidance of forms of expression or action that are perceived to exclude, marginalise, or insult groups of people who are socially disadvantaged or discriminated against.

Virtue signalling – the action or practice of publicly expressing opinions or sentiments intended to demonstrate one’s good character or the moral correctness of one’s position on a particular issue.

When I look at these definitions, and look at the Gospel preached by Jesus, I can’t help but think Jesus was woke and politically correct and accused by the Pharisees of virtue signalling. Jesus called out injustices, he ate with the excluded, and spoke with the marginalised, and publicly called out the Pharisees for immoral actions that harmed so many people. So if Jesus was the epitome of these terms, why have so many Christians come to look at them as a stumbling block in society? As something to ridicule and mock instead of aspire to?

I think we might be afraid of being woke. I think when we hear Jesus say to stay awake, to always be prepared, it can be quite intimidating. It’s difficult to carry the light of hope at all times, especially when we feel so surrounded by hopelessness. And it’s difficult to challenge the status quo, especially when it’s all we’ve known our whole lives. But I think the readings today are asking us to face those difficulties full on with the support of God. The Isaiah reading calls for us to walk in the light of the Lord, and the Gospel tells us to stay awake. Surely that means to notice injustices and call them out. To see people who are hurting and bring them comfort. To listen to the marginalised and let their feelings be heard. The first Sunday of Advent is about hope, and if Christ taught us nothing else, it’s that the Gospel message is for everyone. So this Christian hope is for everyone. But we can’t bring it to everyone if we cling to what makes us comfortable. Sometimes stepping into the light of the Lord means stepping into discomfort. And staying prepared, staying awake, means being woke to injustices even if we are the only voice speaking against them. 

So on this first Sunday of Advent, I encourage you to walk in the light, to shine with the light of God’s hope, to be woke and shine a light on injustices, knowing that you are walking with the Lord.

Ordination Sermon (Isaiah 43:1-2; John 15:16)

Ordination sermon on Isaiah 43:1-2 and John 15:16
Originally given 03 July 2022 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

‘You are mine’ and ‘I chose you’

These are the two phrases from today’s readings that have been going through my mind for weeks. I started this sermon weeks ago, because although I’ve preached several dozen times here at St. Alban’s, I knew today would feel much different, both emotionally and ontologically.

I actually chose the readings for today, because they are special verses for me. They appeared on my ember cards from last year and this year. Last year I found great comfort in the Isaiah passage, ‘Do not fear…you are mine.’ In many ways this verse has given me the strength to get through the challenges of this year. Although anytime I read the words do not fear, or fear not, or be not afraid in the Bible, I honestly can’t help but be, at least a little bit, scared. I’m not sure if it’s like wanting to touch a hot iron that you have been told not to touch because the temptation is just too much, or if it’s more the thought process of, ‘well, I wasn’t really scared until you mentioned it!’ In any case, when these words crop up in the Bible, they are quite often followed by a reason to be scared. Whether it was Mary being told she would bear the Son of God, or Moses being chosen to lead the people of Israel, whenever God says not to be afraid, there is usually a good reason to be afraid. But in this case, the Isaiah verse tells us to not be afraid because we belong to God. 

Being an immigrant is not easy. Ten years ago I left my home country and everyone and everything I knew and eventually settled here in England. I have since become a dual British-American citizen, but sometimes there is still an internal turmoil when it comes to belonging…or not. I’m still treated as ‘other’ when I meet someone new, because they are always so curious about my accent. An accent which has faded over time because of my own insecurities about not belonging. But God says, ‘you are mine.’ Regardless of our birth certificate or passport or accent, regardless of if we came to this country on an aeroplane, or in a dinghy boat, every single one of us belongs to God. We belong to the family of God and we are all worthy of God’s love.

‘You are mine’ and ‘I chose you’.

Very often I am utterly perplexed as to why God would have chosen me for ministry. I have been known to drink more than the recommended weekly units, I often swear enough to make a sailor blush, and I find it difficult to restrain my opinions… if my mouth doesn’t say it, then my face or wardrobe choices definitely will. On top of these, what some may deem, flaws, there are many people, even today, who would suggest that I am unfit to lead and preside at a church service simply because I am a woman. After all, it’s been less than 30 years that women have been ordained to the priesthood in the Church of England, and not even a decade since the first woman became Bishop. But in spite of this, I, a drink-loving, sweary, vocally opinionated woman, was called by God. I have been appointed by God to bear abiding fruit. So what exactly is that fruit?

I suppose my abiding fruit this past year has been walking with people in their grief and sharing my own grief so they know they are not alone. It’s been preaching about social justice issues such as racism, sexism, and homophobia, and encouraging people to tackle their own prejudices in order to create a world reflecting God’s Kingdom. It’s been making deliberate and visible choices to reduce my paper usage, thereby defending God’s creation, albeit in some small way. It’s been being vulnerable about my battles with mental health and being honest about my queer identity, reflecting the diversity of God’s love and showing that God loves every part of who we are. It is terrifying to be so open about who I am, but I believe God chose me because she knew the fruit I would bear, that I would be a model of an imperfect human who is completely loved by our perfect creator.

Sometimes it is difficult to be in the Church of England. Like any institution, it has its imperfections. But I firmly believe change comes from within, which is one more reason I feel chosen for this role. To push for the change to ensure the Church embodies the greatest command to love each other as God loves us.

‘You are mine’ and ‘I chose you’.

When I began the discernment process many moons ago, I received a prayer that said, ‘it’s okay to be scared, God’s not.’ In some ways I feel like that prayer all those years ago was leading to this day, to the moment when I first preside at communion as a priest. I know I didn’t get to this point on my own. Along the way God provided support and encouragement and giants who came before me. My family, Alex, Franklin, and Andrew, have supported me from day one on this journey. Many of you will have heard me talk about Tony and Jane, and although Tony isn’t here in person, I know his spirit is with us, giving me strength to continue, and Jane is here to encourage me just as she has done for so many years. In 1994, Angela Berners-Wilson along with 31 other women were finally able to become a priest in the Church of England. These are the giants, along with our very own Reverend Lesley, on whose shoulders I am proudly able to stand today. 

I know that God does not make mistakes, and although people and institutions may put up stumbling blocks, God has a special plan for each of us. So we can go forward in the knowledge that we all belong to God. God has a place for every one of us. And I challenge you to discover what God has chosen you for. What will be your abiding fruit in this life, in the work of God’s Kingdom?

Sermon on Mark 1:1-8 and Isaiah 40:1-11

Sermon on Mark 1:1-8 and Isaiah 40:1-11
Given 06 and 08 December 2020 at St. Chad’s, Rubery

May the God of hope enliven us through the words of my mouth. Amen

Today is the Second Sunday of Advent, which is traditionally the day we light the Advent Candle representing peace. But when I began writing my sermon for today, I based it on hope. I could say that I did this on purpose, because right now a bit more hope in the world is something we could all cling to. To be honest though, I simply got my Advent Sundays mixed up and I didn’t realise it until rather late in the day. In any case, I decided that right now we can’t get enough of it, so on this Second Sunday of Advent, I’m going to speak about hope.

Hope can be difficult to reflect on during a global pandemic. At this point in time all the typical stresses and worries of life become compounded because we carry not only the burden of our own lives, but also the burdens of those around us and worldwide. But I do hope the words of this reflection will bring you peace if you are experiencing distress, but challenge if you are experiencing plenty.

The Gospel reading introduces us to John the Baptist, who it is said was sent to prepare the way for Jesus. Preparation and hope work well together, because the definition of hope is the expectation of a desired event. We prepare because we expect Jesus to come again. We prepare because we expect a new heaven and a new earth.

Hope is not an empty wish. We find hope in the words of Isaiah – ‘Comfort, O Comfort my people.’ There is hope in the message brought by John the Baptist in his proclamation of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. The refugees fleeing persecution, the children with rumbling tummies, the marginalised protesting injustices all have hope. Hope is about promise, it’s about a future. Our preparations through Advent, and through our lives as Christians, are not about an insurmountable goal that we may or may not achieve. We have hope because of the knowledge that a new day will come. This is not a maybe or a perhaps. This is a certainty.

Now this doesn’t mean there is no challenge in hope. There can still be pain, confusion, or disenchantment in the waiting. There is also struggle, disappointment, despair, and loneliness. The path we are meant to prepare is not an easy one. Isaiah describes that there are deserts needing straight highways, valleys to be lifted, mountains made low, and rough places that are to be made plain. But these challenges are not in vain. Each stumbling block is a step closer to the Kingdom of God, because Jesus promised us in the Sermon on the Mount ‘Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness.’

Former Archbishop Michael Ramsey once said, ‘the duty of the church is to comfort the disturbed and to disturb the comfortable,’ so it is my hope that I am able to do just that with these words. The comfort for those who are weary and in desperate need is that you are not alone. You have a family through Christ who will give sustenance to ease your burdens. There is never a reason to be without food, clothes, shelter, or companionship. And this is the challenge for those of you who have more. It is your responsibility to support your brothers and sisters in Christ. And although we are all weathering the same storm, we do not all enjoy the same boat. There are some of us in dinghies with our heads just above the treacherous seas, and others who are coasting by in ease. This is a difficult time for everyone around the world, but for those who can do more, we must do more. We are called to do more, for we are our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers. Each one of us individually can make a world of difference, because even in the most consuming darkness, a single candle can light a path.

At this time of preparation, we prepare for the way of the Lord by doing his will. When we pray ‘thy Kingdom come’ we do so with the intention of making the kingdom of God here on earth right now. Of course you can’t feed hope to a starving child, but hope is made tangible in our actions. It is because of hope that we do feed the hungry, clothe the naked, give shelter to the homeless, and visit the lonely. Through hope we create a world where we give voice to the oppressed and empower the vulnerable. Now more than ever, we must be the representatives of Christ, bringing to all people the Good News. Now more than ever, we must bring hope.

So go, prepare the way. Make straight paths, lift valleys, and flatten mountains. Give hope to the hopeless, give peace to the troubled, give love to the hurting, and give joy to those in despair. Let us embody the spirit of the Gospel brought to us by Christ Jesus. As we wait in this Advent season, let us show hope is an expectation, not a wish. Go, bring the love of God to a world waiting in hope for a new day to come. Amen

Sermon on Prophesying the Birth of Christ, and His birth (Micah 5:2; Isaiah 7:14; Jeremiah 23:5; Luke 2:4-6; Matthew 1:22-23; Isaiah 9:6-7)

Sermon on Prophesying the Birth of Christ, and His birth (Micah 5:2; Isaiah 7:14; Jeremiah 23:5; Luke 2:4-6; Matthew 1:22-23; Isaiah 9:6-7)
Given 10 December 2017 at Studley Parish Centre

When Alex and I lived in Jakarta, we once met with our vicar to have a bit of a theological discussion. At the time I had accepted a challenge from an atheist friend of mine. The plan was to read the Bible over the course of a year and make commentary daily on what was read to show our differing perspectives. I had lofty hopes of helping my atheist friend see the love of God through the words of the Bible. She was likely hoping for a conversion to her way of thinking. We were both either naïve or arrogant… five years later and she’s still an atheist and I’m still a Christian. But I’m not worried… I know that God does everything in His time!

And while the challenge itself didn’t produce the fruit I had prayed for, it did lead me to the discussion with my vicar that I wouldn’t have otherwise had. I was hoping to create a solid argument for the side of the believers and wanted to get some tips from someone I considered a pro in the field. Looking back at our discussion I can only remember a few things he said, and one bit of insight that I won’t forget is his advice to not throw the baby out with the bathwater when it comes to the Old Testament – something many Anglicans, myself included, have been guilty of.

When speaking to new Christians or non-Christians, it just feels easier to focus on the loving figure of Jesus as opposed to the fire and brimstone, wrathful, vengeful God that seems to represent the Old Testament. But this one-sided focus falls apart quite quickly when we analyse the faith. Without the perspective of the Old Testament, Jesus was just a Jewish carpenter who did unbelievable things and had a massive following. If that’s all Jesus was, we could say Harry Houdini did unbelievable things and had a massive following, but most people accept that Houdini stayed dead.

See, we need the Old Testament because Jesus is more that a magician. He is the One who is called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God; Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. This is from Isaiah, the Old Testament. The Old Testament which tells HIS story. And as followers of Christ, we must know His story to understand our story.

Our story is that we believe Jesus is the Messiah who was foretold by the prophets. His birth which we celebrate every year at this Christmas time can be found in the writings of the Old Testament. Messiah. We call Him this, but are we just going through the motions, or do we know what Messiah means?

Shakespeare said a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet, so what’s in a name? Well, Messiah is actually the Hebrew for Christ, and Christ is a Greek word meaning “Anointed One”. So Christ by any other name, such as Messiah, is still the one chosen by God. What other names are we told in the Old Testament? Isaiah 7:14 says the son born to the virgin will be called “Immanuel”. Immanuel translates as “God with us”. How does God with us connect to Jesus, the name Joseph was told to give to the son born of the virgin Mary? Let’s break it down: The name Jesus translates as “salvation”. Being in a state of salvation means being saved from sin, so if we accept that sin is separation from God, that means we are with God when we are free from sin. So we are with God when we are in a state of salvation. Therefore, “God is with us” means “salvation”, or, in other words, Immanuel means Jesus. He really did think of everything! And we are once again shown how the Old Testament is a vital part of our story as Christians.

Concerning our Christmas story, the Old Testament also makes reference to the birth of Christ in Micah 5:2. This very reading is what the priests and teachers looked to when King Herod asked where the Messiah would be born. So all that we need to know about Jesus, to declare he was the Messiah or Christ, our Immanuel, can be found in the Old Testament.

Some of you have heard about Franklin’s aspirations to become our vicar. While I don’t think we want to wait twenty years to have a vicar, I must say I would highly recommend Franklin, and not just because he’s my son. While other kids are pretending to be dinosaurs or princesses, Franklin is practicing his sermon. He’ll stand on our staircase and say, “Good morning, people”, and I’ll ask if he’s giving his sermon. He’ll respond with “yes” and then say at the top of his voice, “Jesus is King”.

While it makes me incredibly proud, I don’t think Alex and I can take credit for it. Instead I think Junior Church has done a stellar job! With that being said, Franklin’s “sermons” succinctly bring together the Old and New Testaments. Isaiah 9:7 says “…He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom…”and Luke 1:32 tells us “The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David.” Yes, Franklin, Jesus is king, the King of Kings, and we know this because we have His story in the form of the Bible comprised of Old and New. All the details of his birth told thousands of years before his arrival although His origins were “of ancient times”. This, our once and future king of all time, born to a virgin in the little town of Bethlehem. This child we come to rejoice in. As we come together in this waiting period before we celebrate the birth of Jesus, we can find our Christmas story not only in the New Testament, but also in the Old Testament. We can celebrate the birth of a King, our King, and know that His story began from time immemorial.

As we reflect on this ancient story let us have the peace of God in our hearts to know that the whole story is His story. He is with us and so let His love shine through us as we bring His word to those who don’t know it. Let us challenge ourselves to find Christ’s love not only in the stories we know from the New Testament, but also in those we may be less familiar with in the Old Testament. As we celebrate the birth of Christ, let us pledge a renewal in ourselves to see His whole word and to use it all. Let us not throw the baby out with the bathwater, but instead keep him in His manger, watched by his virgin mother, as was foretold by the prophets.