Homily on Matthew 6:1-6; 16-21 (Ash Wednesday)

Homily on Matthew 6:1-6; 16-21 (Ash Wednesday)
Originally given 14 February 2024 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

The other day I saw a meme that said for Ash Wednesday we rub dirt on people’s faces and tell them they’re going to die. I laughed when I saw it, because it is kind of true. When I put ashes on your forehead in a few moments, I will say ‘remember you are dust and to dust you shall return’, but that’s only half the story. How confusing this day must be for anyone who sees it out of context.

If we were to take today’s Gospel reading out of context, then the imposition of ashes in a few moments would be contradictory to Christ’s instructions, and we would in fact be hypocrites because we are not fasting and praying in secret. Walking around with a cross of ashes on our face is a very public declaration of our faith. But within the context of the whole gospel message, I don’t think that this passage is explicitly referring to one’s actions, but instead one’s priorities. It’s not what you do that matters as much as why you do it. In other words, why have we come to this service today to have dirt rubbed on our face and be told that we’re going to die? Is it because our priority is looking morally good for the world to see? Or is it because our priority is growing our relationship with God? 

‘Remember that you are dust and to dust you will return. Turn away from sin and be faithful to Christ.’ That’s the rest of the story. Yes, we are all going to die, but the real story is about how we live. It’s about making a deliberate choice every day to store our treasures in heaven. A choice to turn to Christ in our thoughts, and words, and deeds. In recognising our mortality, we recognise that we were created for a purpose. But it is our choice about what that purpose is. Will we choose to live the way of hypocrites, prioritising what people on the outside see and gaining earthly goods? Or will we choose to live the way of Christ, taking up the challenge to show unconditional love to all people and gaining treasures in heaven?

To be clear, the choices we make shouldn’t be made with any rewards in mind. In order to completely love God and love our neighbour, our motives must not be about what we get from it. In fact, along with praying and fasting in secret, we could be encouraged to love in secret. To commit anonymous acts of kindness in all that we do. Not for any reward, but for our choice to turn towards Christ. Our choice to love radically and live fully until we once again are dust.

Turn away from sin, and be faithful to Christ. Choose each day to make God your priority. Choose to fully live until you die.

Sermon on Matthew 17:1-9 (Transfiguration)

Sermon on Matthew 17:1-9 (Transfiguration)
Originally given 19 February 2023 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

Becoming
Beloved
Believing

As I read through today’s Gospel, retelling the Transfiguration of Christ, it was these three words that kept repeating in my heart: Becoming, beloved, believing.

A few Christmas’s ago, I received Michelle Obama’s autobiography, which is called Becoming. While the book itself is remarkable, it was first the title that I found to be incredibly moving and gave me pause for thought. This one word seems to perfectly summarise all our journeys in life. God knits us together in our mother’s womb, but we are not born as a final product. We begin life waiting to be shaped and moulded into the people we are meant to become. Our lives are not static, but constantly changing and growing. The very essence of who we are is not something we are born into, but rather who we become over time. When I started theological college, someone told me, ‘don’t fake it ‘til you make it, fake it ‘til you become it.’ I think that can be incredibly difficult and even terrifying. Because we never, in fact, fully become who we are until the day we die. 

In the Transfiguration, a few of the disciples got a tiny glimpse of who Jesus was to become. A figure clothed in blinding light, not meant for this world. Do you ever think about who you are becoming? Do you see yourself becoming a more perfect model of Christ’s love in the world? Do you see yourself becoming disillusioned with the lack of love in the world? We are called to love God and love each other in our life, so are we becoming a reflection of that calling? Are we fully embracing who it is we are meant to become?

Thinking of loving God and loving our neighbour, the Transfiguration also reminds us that God loves us. The Transfiguration is the second time we hear the voice of God saying, ‘this is my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased.’ The first time we hear this is at the baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist in the river Jordan. Jesus is baptised, the Holy Spirit appears in the form of a dove, and the voice of God declares, ‘this is my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased.’ Whenever I do a baptism, I always try to read the Baptism of Jesus as the reading for three main reasons. Firstly, in reading about the baptism of Jesus, we are shown a model of what we should do as Christians, which is to get baptised. Second, this is one of the few times that the trinitarian God is clearly present and allows for an opportunity to talk about our faith in a single, yet triune God. Thirdly, and for me the most important reason I read this passage to the people and families who come for baptism, is that we hear the voice of God saying, ‘this is my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased.’ I make clear that those who go for baptism are the beloved children with whom God is well pleased. Being beloved is not reserved only for Jesus Christ. Every single one of us is a beloved child of God. 

And as we reflect on whether we are becoming the people God has called us to become, we also have to reflect on whether we are showing all of God’s people that they too are God’s beloved children. Do the people on the street know how much God loves them by the actions of those who walk by? Do people in the LGBTQ+ community know they are deeply loved by God? Do people from the Black and Asian Minority Ethnic community feel the full love of God reflected on them through the Church? Do people who are differently abled know that they too are a beloved child of God exactly as they are? How much are we doing as people who love God to show every single person that God also loves them? That God loves every single part of them? Whether or not we humans understand each other, whether or not we agree with each other, God made every single one of us and loves every single one of us and commands that we love every single one of us, not in our words but in our actions.

At the end of today’s Gospel reading, Jesus says, ‘Don’t tell anyone what you have seen, until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.’ I wonder what the disciples made of such a bold comment? Surely they didn’t even fully understand what they had seen, so how could they have possibly relayed what they had seen to anyone else? In a few months’ time, we’ll hear the Gospel reading from John 20 when Jesus says, ‘blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.’ Those of us who claim Christ as practising Christians can count ourselves among the blessed who have not seen, insofar as we have not seen the Transfiguration. We have not seen Christ Jesus crucified and resurrected. We have not seen the nail marks in Jesus’s hands, feet, and side. 

But we are gathered here today because we have seen something or someone in our lives that leads us to continue believing. We are here because we have reason to keep believing that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. We are here because we keep believing Jesus was God incarnate who showed us how to love each other. We are here because someone else, believing in the Gospel message, showed us Christ’s love. We are here for so many different reasons, but all these reasons can be summarised in the fact that we know it is right to keep believing regardless of what the world or logic may say. It makes no sense that God chose a weak human body to show us love. It makes no sense that God allowed a brutal death on the cross. It makes no sense that we are called to believe without seeing. 

But we are here. We are on a journey of becoming the people who reflect God in our actions. We are here as beloved children of God who will show all the world they too are beloved children with our Gospel of love. We are here believing that God will continue to guide us on our journeys ever closer to God’s loving embracing.

Becoming
Beloved
Believing

Pre-ordination Homily

Homily before ordination to the priesthood (Matthew 7.21-end)
Originally given 23 June 2022 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

Yesterday was St. Alban’s day, the day we remember the martyrdom of Alban. Tomorrow is the festival remembering the birth of John the Baptist. Yesterday, today, and Saturday are the three Ember days for this season. So I really have a plethora of topics to preach on, but leading up to today, all I could think about is that the next time I preach in this church I will be a priest.

When I met with the Bishop a few weeks ago, we reminded each other that though we might become priests and bishops, we are still always deacons. I think St. Alban and John the Baptist could be used as models for what it means to be a deacon. St. Alban was so committed to spreading the gospel message that he sacrificed himself to save a priest who he thought would be able to go on to bring Christianity to more people. John the Baptist specifically came to prepare the way for Jesus Christ, teaching people how to live and encouraging people to follow Christ. While I wouldn’t recommend martyrdom, I think deacons should dedicate themselves to spreading the Gospel, and in spreading the Gospel message they make way for the love of Christ in people’s hearts. And as I go on retreat next Thursday, the days leading to my ordination into the priesthood will be a form of ember days, days taken to cleanse, to reflect, to pray that I come closer to God. So, tick, tick, tick; I’ve just managed to hit all three topics.

But thinking of St. Alban and John the Baptist and how they speak to being a deacon, I wondered, if deacons bring the Gospel to the world, what more are priests called to do? A few days ago on the school run, a drunk woman asked me if I could forgive her. I said, ‘of course you’re forgiven!’ I didn’t think 9am on a Tuesday with a drunk stranger was the appropriate time or place to discuss my ability to bless things and not people for the next week and a half. When I was practicing presiding for the Eucharist, Zoe talked about the Bishop giving me ‘magic hands’. While I do enjoy Harry Potter, I’m not entirely convinced of the reality of magic. So what sets priests apart? Is it blessing people or supernatural body parts? Definitely something to ponder, especially as I look to the next step of my ministry.

The reading today says the people were astounded by Jesus’s teaching. But it had less to do with the content and more with the delivery. They took note that Jesus spoke with authority. So perhaps, in order to be a good priest, all I have to do is kick my imposter syndrome and tell people like it is. Though I’m not convinced that’s what is meant by speaking with authority. I think speaking with authority means knowing in your heart the truth of the Gospel. Knowing that every person you meet is a beloved child of God. Speaking with authority means bringing others closer to Christ, not only with words of instruction, but also with actions of justice. Speaking with authority means recognising that I have been set apart to do God’s will, and accepting all the joys and challenges that brings. They say it takes a village to raise a child, and I would say it takes a parish to nurture a priest. So I ask for your prayers, especially over the next two weeks, for all of us responding to God’s call to ordination, that we may step forward into our new roles with the authority of the love of Christ.

Homily for Epiphany (Matthew 2:1-12)

Homily on Matthew 2:1-12
Given 06 January 2022 at St. Alban’s Church, Coventry

!Los Reyes han venido! The Kings have come!

A lifetime ago, I celebrated Epiphany in Spain, where it is commonly referred to as the Day of the Kings. Culturally it was more common for Spanish children to put out treats and drinks for the three Kings and their camels, as opposed to waiting Christmas Eve for Santa and his reindeer. An argument could be made that an Epiphany gift exchange is more biblically logical. After all, Epiphany is when we remember that the wise men brought gifts to Mary and Jesus after the birth. But my theological issue with this celebration is that the spotlight seems to be taken away from the main hero – Jesus Christ. Of course Christmas has also become incredibly commercialised, and most children would respond that Christmas is about Santa rather than Jesus, but at least Christ gets named in that celebration. For the so-called King’s Day, it’s about the wise men and their presents, but very little about the one true King.

When I read through these verses in Matthew 2, I actually have quite a few issues about the visit of the wise men. If they hadn’t got lost and ended up in Herod’s palace in the first place, then Herod wouldn’t have known about the birth of the Messiah which led to the brutal murder of all boys in Bethlehem under the age of two. Or if they had returned and simply said they never found such a child, that could have also averted such a massacre. And what about the gifts? Well, I assure you having experienced being the mother of a newborn, gold, frankincense, and myrrh isn’t very helpful. A baby can’t play with gold, nor can it be washed in the oils produced from frankincense and myrrh, and would likely respond quite negatively to their fragrances. But when I start getting worked up about my critical analysis of biblical stories, I realise it’s probably time to take a step back.

As the Vicar of Dibley beautifully explained, this is the greatest story ever told. And that’s what I need to check myself on – it is a story. And any story has plot devices to move the story forward, and perhaps even a few plot holes for those with a critical eye. But I think I should probably cut the wise men some slack. They are vital to this story because they show that Jesus Christ came not just for an exclusive group in a little town, but for all people in all corners of the world – north, south, west, and even east. Their gifts show that this helpless baby born to humble beginnings was true royalty, and that his life would be one of pain and sacrifice. But it is because of his sacrifice that each of us will have life eternal. 

So the real question about this story is what does it say to us as followers of Christ and what does it call us to do? I suggest that just as Mary welcomed strangers from the East to her home, we should also be open to everyone with hospitality. And although we aren’t able to bring gifts to the Christ child in the traditional sense, I think we can bring gifts to Christ every day we live our lives with love for our neighbour. Today as we celebrate that the kings have come, let us keep our heart on our divine King who came to serve us and still lives in each of our hearts today and evermore. 

Sermon on Matthew 22:1-14 and Philippians 4:1-9

Sermon on Matthew 22:1-14 and Philippians 4:1-9
Given 11 October 2020 at St. Chad’s, Rubery

May the God of love inspire my lips and open our hearts to receive your Word. Amen.

Today’s readings take us through a journey of faith. In the first reading, we heard about the peace of God which transcends all understanding. In the Gospel reading, there was weeping and gnashing of teeth. The first reading is about hope, prayer, and goodness. The second about God’s merciful invitation to all which is only accepted by some. There is an expanse of material here to delve into, but I’m going to focus on three verses that particularly stood out to me, which can be summarised in the words: invitation, prayer, and shalom.

The Gospel reading ended with ‘Many are called, but few are chosen.’

This verse has always bothered me a bit, because in my mind it suggested a form of predestination, as in, God will only choose some people to go to heaven. And based on the assumption that God would choose very devout Christians, I always knew I would not make that list. I drink too much, I swear far too much, and I have enough skeletons in my closet that, if they were real, would make for superb Halloween decorations. No, I was obviously not a choice for God. But that’s not actually what this parable says. In fact, reading the whole parable, God invites every single person. Some choose not to come, some aren’t prepared to come, but the choice is down to the individual. The invitation is God saying, ‘I choose you. Will you accept?’ It is down to us to decide how we will respond to God’s invitation. Will we be too busy chasing dreams of material wealth? Will we say we accept God with our lips, but not in our hearts? Will we be so fearful of what’s to come in the next life that we don’t live this life for God? Or will we take up our crosses and bear the burdens and joys of living out our faith?

Moving to Philippians, verse 6 says, ‘Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.’

I am a natural worrier. And the fascinating thing about that is God decided the best person to match me with, my husband, is also a worrier. Telling us not to worry or be anxious is like telling a fish not to swim. It goes against the very core of our beings. So the first instinct is that we’re not wired for following God, but then I found solace in stories from the Scriptures. You see, God is renowned for saying do not be afraid, or fear not, which means the people God chooses must usually be afraid or worried. Mind you, they had very valid reasons for worrying. Mary was unexpectedly carrying a baby, Hagar thought she and her son would die in the wilderness, Job lost his house and family. The list goes on, and my worrying about daily minutiae pales in comparison. But no matter how big or small our worry, this verse tells us every situation is worth praying into. The God who created us, loves us, and hears us. Though we may worry or be anxious or be afraid, God is not. So despite your worries, know that God will hear your prayers. And though you may not always get the answer you expect, God will always listen.

Looking back at Philippians, the reading today ends with, ‘Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.’

The Hebrew word for peace is shalom, which I find even more comforting, as its whole meaning is peace, harmony, wholeness, completeness, prosperity, welfare, and tranquillity. So the God of shalom will be with us if we choose to live out our faith. This is not a call to perfection. As humans we do and will make mistakes. Instead we must simply recognise what our faith teaches us and strive to do our best to follow it. As the saying goes, we must practice what we preach. If we say we are followers of Christ, then we must follow his rules. Put simply, we must love God and love our neighbour – our neighbour who doesn’t look like us, who doesn’t think like us, who doesn’t pray like us, who doesn’t love like us. All we are called to do is love. And through it all, God will be with us.

The three words today are invitation, prayer, and shalom. You have all been given an invitation from God, it is up to you to accept it. In every situation, for whatever worries you or makes you anxious or scared, through prayer God will hear you. And when you accept that invitation and make prayer part of your relationship with God, you will have the peace, harmony, wholeness, completeness, prosperity, welfare, and tranquillity of God. Shalom be with you. Amen.