On Lament in the time of Covid-19

Originally written 29 April 2020
It’s been nearly two months since I’ve given a sermon, and I have no way of knowing when our world will be in a place where I can preach again, but I wanted to share some reflections. At the moment I’m studying Psalms, and in particular I have been looking at Psalms of Lament. So often in our society, especially Christian society, we avoid the topic of lament. We want everything to appear joyful, perfect, and painless. But that’s ignoring the very real circumstances of the human condition. Humans are not perfect, and our world is far from it. There are situations of injustice, pain, suffering, and death that give rise to emotions of anger, sadness, despair, and hopelessness. And that’s okay.
It’s human. It’s human to be outraged when we see the oppression of populations. It’s human to be devestated when someone we love has died. It’s human to be angry with God, accuse God of being absent, scream and cry at God for an apparent impotence or lack of empathy. The Psalms of Lament bring out all this human emotion. But, they also look back to the joys of life. In remembering the goodness, perhaps we can move beyond our current tragedy. That doesn’t mean you can’t be angry, or question God. Instead, it is encouragement to move forward from that place, but it’s important to note that there is no time frame on grief. Many of us are in a time of grief, whether that be for the loss of a holiday or the death of a loved one. Though the former may seem trivial, it is no less valid. Because all human emotion is valid, and that is why we must embrace lament along with joy.
Today marks day 40 that my family has been in quarantine. This is a momentous amount of time for Christians, as we remember the 40 days Jesus spent in the desert and the 40 years the Israelites spent in the wilderness. Following on the theme of lament and inspired by the Psalms, I have written a poem of lament reflecting on 40 days in isolation.
Forty days in the desert,
and no oasis in sight;
Forty days of isolation –
where is the end to my plight?
I call out to God for salvation,
but feel her face has turned away.
Where has my loving Mother gone
who nurtured me from my first day?
A babe, abandoned, naked,
in the wilderness.
There is no light,
I’m consumed by darkness.
I cling to hope of new tomorrows,
desperate for the end of sorrows.
No more tears, pain is gone,
anger fades, and death is done.
It feels eternal, this new norm,
but in glory I shall go back home.
With arms wide open, divine embrace,
the death of darkness will have no place.
For now in desolation I weep,
though I know this night will soon pass by.
A new day will dawn, filled with hope.
A rainbow of love will paint the sky.

Sermon on Mental Health (The Prodigal Son)

Sermon on Mental Health (The Prodigal Son)
Given on 10 February 2019 at Studley Centrepoint
This guy’s walking down a street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep, he can’t get out. A doctor passes by, and the guy shouts up, “Hey you, can you help me out?” The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a priest comes along, and the guy shouts up “Father, I’m down in this hole, can you help me out?” The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on. Then a friend walks by. “Hey Joe, it’s me, can you help me out?” And the friend jumps in the hole. Our guy says, “Are you stupid? Now we’re both down here.” The friend says, “Yeah, but I’ve been down here before, and I know the way out.”
I first heard this story on The West Wing several years ago. It is told by Leo McGarry, who is a recovering alcoholic, so he knows all about the depths, and he is talking to Josh Lyman who is suffering from PTSD. I love this story because it perfectly illustrates what we can do when someone is battling a mental health disorder. We are not experts, but we don’t have to be. Even if we haven’t personally experienced the dark hole, we can stand by someone who is suffering through the thick of it. In fact, our Christian response can be highlighted with the reading we heard today of the Parable of the Prodigal Son. There are three main characters in this story: The Prodigal Son, the other son, and the father. Each of these characters represent respectively low mental health, society’s general reaction to mental health problems, and how Christians can best respond when someone is struggling with their mental health. Let’s first look at the Prodigal son himself, I’ll call him Joe.
Joe has taken his share of his father’s money and wasted it all so that he doesn’t even have food. Starving, alone, and in despair, Joe first turns to strangers for charity. He ends up sleeping with pigs who have more food than him. He has undeniably hit rock bottom and is the epitome of someone with low mental health. In the end, Joe decides to return to his father’s house in a last attempt for survival, with no expectation of love or kindness from his father. We don’t know whether he is truly sorry or just hungry, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.
On the other hand, we have the brother, or the other son. I’ll call him Jim. Jim doesn’t have the same struggles as Joe, and whenever Joe finally returns home, Jim is very judgemental. In many ways, Jim is the embodiment of how society views mental health issues. Some would say “you reap what you sow”, so if you have problems, then it is your own fault. I grew up being instilled with the bootstrap philosophy – no matter how challenging things were, you could always pull yourself up by the bootstraps. What I did not learn and have only discovered over time is that not everybody has bootstraps, through no fault of their own. The fact is, and it appears society is finally just starting to accept it, it’s okay to not be okay. Nobody wants to be in a deep, dark pit of hopelessness, feeling vulnerable and alone. And it’s easy to point fingers and say how you would have done things differently, but that’s not constructive or helpful, and it isn’t the Christian way.
That brings us to the third character from the parable – the father. Of course this character is a representation of our loving Father in heaven. It does not matter what Joe has done or what decisions he has made, all that matters is that Joe has come back home. As Christians, this is how we should aspire to be. When our brothers and sisters are hurting, we must run to them with open arms, and open hearts, and open ears. We must love them and be present with them. We must not judge, but instead celebrate when they come back from the darkness. It is not easy to climb out of that hole, but by the grace of God and with the support of friends, anyone can come back to the light.
Now I’ve talked about what to do to help someone who is struggling, and I’ve talked about how we should respond as Christians, but we must also address the fact that it is okay if you are not okay. I am a devout Christian, and I accepted Jesus Christ as my Saviour eight years ago, but I have struggled with depression since I was a teenager. My depression manifests itself with extreme, debilitating sadness and angry, uncontrollable outbursts. It is a demon I battle almost every single day in some form, but that does not mean God loves me any less. That does not mean I have any less of His grace and forgiveness. The idea that we should somehow be perfect beings because we love God and He loves us completely ignores the fact that we are and always will be human. We are flawed and imperfect and endlessly make mistakes. But that is okay. Because it’s okay to not be okay. Because God will always love you regardless. And if nobody else will, God will pull you out of that pit of despair. He will open wide His arms and embrace you with love and acceptance. He will run to meet you on your path back to Him.
If you are in that hole, I pray for healing and strength to come out of it. If you know someone in that dark place, I pray for strength and courage to pull them out. Above all, I pray for kindness. Be kind to each other, and be kind to yourselves. Amen.

Sermon on Matthew 22:15-22

Sermon on Matthew 22:15-22
Given 22 October 2017 at Studley Parish Church
Have you ever lied? How can you call yourself faithful if you have lied? Because the 9th commandment says not to bear false witness against your neighbour (Exodus 20:16). Do you love your neighbour as yourself and do you pray for those who you don’t like? Because how can you call yourself Christian if you don’t love your enemies? Since Christ did say “…love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” (Matthew 5:44) If God is all-knowing, then why did He put the tree of knowledge in the Garden of Eden? I mean, He should have known Adam and Eve would eat from it causing the fall of Human (Genesis 3:3). And if God is all-loving, why did he let my friend Rachel die from colon cancer at the age of thirty?
I actually have my own answers for all of these questions, though these topics are a bit too deep and complicated for a ten minute sermon on a Sunday morning. So the real question I have is how many of you have confronted these types of questions when you reveal to people that you are a Christian?
The first verses of today’s reading are about the Pharisees trying to trap Jesus into saying the wrong thing. Many times people will try to trap us in our faith and trick us into giving what they think to be the wrong answers. Many non-believers are so arrogant in their non-belief they want to catch us out, make us doubt, or convince us we don’t really know our faith.
But not only do we encounter personal trials of trying to justify our beliefs and evading tricky and complex topics among friends and family, we also have to navigate a world that is incessantly trying to trap us. The fact is that the world is of the flesh, and as Christians we are instructed to battle against the flesh.
See, the trickery of the world is to convince us we are not ENOUGH. Not smart enough, not slim enough, not healthy, funny, or talented enough. Just look at any newsstand and you can see that they’re selling the idea YOU are not enough, but according to the world, these people on the cover of the magazine are. You are not enough, but you can spend your money to find out how the world thinks you can become enough. Spend your money to find out how to get perfect abs, a perfect sex life, the perfect job. Spend your money to find out what perfection looks like.
But let me save you a few quid: To find perfection, simply look in a mirror. If we know that God is perfect and we know that we were created in His image (Genesis 1:27) and He doesn’t make mistakes, then it logically follows we must only look to our true selves to find perfection.
Which brings me back to today’s reading: “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s and give to God what is God’s.” I hope we all pay our taxes and follow the laws of the land, but do we know what belongs to God? If coins are made by Caesar, what is made of God? Well, obviously, the answer is everything, but especially us.
God created each one of us uniquely as individuals with our own talents and gifts. We all have different abilities that we are called to use to the glory of God. In Paul’s letter to the Romans he says:
“We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your faith;  if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach;  if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead, do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.”
To summarise, we have all been perfectly created by God with special gifts that only we can give. When Christ commands that we give to God what is God’s, the expectation is that we give ourselves; the understanding is that we are more than enough.
Each of us has a calling, something that we were quite literally made to do. Sometimes our calling is not only apparent but easy to follow. Other times the path to our calling is challenging and it may seem easier to turn away from it. But if we turn away from that which God created us to do, then we are denying ourselves and denying God. When we ignore our calling, we are not giving to God what is rightfully His, that which he made us for.
Sometimes, the trickery of the world will lead us away from our calling, but with vigilant prayer we can remind ourselves of our reason for living as Christians. That is to fulfil our God-given purpose and thereby give ourselves to God.
As we navigate the flesh of this word, we must always keep our hearts on Christ. In our daily lives as we try to model a Christian life, we will inevitably fail from time to time. As we are only human we will get caught up in the distractions of Satan. And that’s okay. As long as we come back to Jesus, all will be forgiven. We must only give to God what is God’s, which is our whole heart and soul by doing that which He uniquely created us to do.
So my challenge for you today is to make that commitment. Open your heart to the will of God. Listen to His instruction for your life. When the Lord says, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” Be like Isaiah and respond, “Here am I. Send me!” With all the blessings God gives us, the only payment we must give to God is ourselves. Amen.