“Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice: What I tell you three times is true.”        “The Hunting of the Snark” by Lewis Carroll

I am contractually bound to agree with that proverb – three times means it’s true – because when I was taught how to preach sermons (don’t say anything!) I was told, “Tell ’em what you’re going to tell ’em. Tell ’em. Then tell ’em you’ve told ’em.” The assumption being that if you tell a congregation something three times, there’s more than an even chance that they’ll hear it once. I leave you to judge if it has worked for you.

But what if a writer tells their listeners something four times, in the space of one story? Then you might suspect that another proverb comes into play; “Methinks he doth protest too much”. If you have to say it that many times, it feels maybe that you’re trying to convince yourself as much as persuade your audience. Either that, or you have a low opinon of the mental alertness of your readership.

Well, that’s what Luke does; in telling us about the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple today.

Mary and Joseph brought the child Jesus to the temple to “do what the law required.”

Four times Luke tells us that. They were doing what the law required. Not, as they entered, “what joy was theirs!” like the wise men, or “glorifying and praising God” like the shepherds. But, “in accordance with what is required by the law.”

Four times.

I think that the suggestion is – what Luke is inferring – is that they were “going through the motions.” It was all a bit wooden and two-dimensional. Yes, they were a good Jewish family who did their duty, but there was no expectation that anything out of the ordinary might be going to happen. Mary and Joseph were just getting on with the job of parenting a five-week-old baby, with all the stresses and anxieties that go with it, as well as fulfilling their religious obligations. I’m guessing it’s surprisingly easy to forget messages from angels and ecstatic shepherds when the baby is crying. I mean, Christmas seems a long time ago now even to us.

Which would explain why they were amazed at what was being said about the child by Simeon and Anna.

It was another Epiphany, a breaking through of reality into the mortal world, an experience of the deep stillness of the Kingdom erupting in the moment of Simeon taking the child in his arms. The skies could have been filled with a multitude of the heavenly host, a moment of God’s “I am.”

We can’t live permanently in those realms – not yet. And nor could Mary and Joseph. They had to treat Jesus as the ordinary (and naughty) little boy that he was and go on caring for him as an ordinary mum and dad.

But maybe – probably, in fact– they began to expect the unexpected, to see the light shining through when all is dark; and to live as mortals who know that the truth, true reality, is in those epiphanies. And that there’s more to life than doing what the law requires.

Which is worse – too eager, or too slow?

Hard to tell from today’s readings.

Samuel and Eli, in the reading from 1 Samuel, both appear to be hopelessly dense and half asleep – in their spirit as well as physically. They could hardly be slower in tuning in to God’s call. But Nathanael, in John’s gospel on the other hand, is the equivalent of superfast broadband; instantly reaching the conclusion that he has found the Messiah – a conclusion that it takes most of the other disciples the whole length of the gospel to reach.

The Epiphany for Samuel (hinted at in the lamp burning through the night) is pretty full on. Where else would a servant of the Lord expect to encounter God than in the Holiest of Holiest, in the midst of his temple? Would God’s voice calling actually sound enough like Eli, so as to confuse a young boy? But it’s Eli who really isn’t on the ball – for him it’s not “where?” would God speak, but “who?” – apologies, “to whom?”. There was Eli, there were priests and Levites – surely God’s message would come to them first? The boy Samuel ought to be way down the pecking order in the temple when it comes to epiphanies.

So if Samuel was slow to see a glaring light, Nathanael, by contrast, jumped instantly at a tiny flicker – so tiny that it’s hard for us to even see it. I can’t for the life of me see how Jesus having just spotted him under the fig tree can have been a life-changing epiphany for Nathanael. And nor could Jesus, to be honest. I think Jesus was somewhat taken aback. Disciples just weren’t meant to be in the fast lane.

So – to rephrase the question – which is better, slow or fast?

Well, on the face of it, if you follow the principal of “three strikes and you’re out,” Samuel only just gets himself up together in time – whereas Nathanael is on message from the word go.

So; fast is better.

But (I know, again!) – if you look further on in both stories, you might see it differently. Samuel receives a message from God – a very uncomfortable message – which he faithfully proclaims, and then faces the consequences resolutely and courageously. His obedience ultimately leads to Saul and then David being anointed king of Israel. He changes the course of history, even though he takes many a wrong turn on route. Nathanael seems so full of promise; just the kind of disciple Jesus needed, seeing the point and meaning in every parable and gesture. Surely (you would assume) he’s bound to be up there with Peter – first to volunteer for everything? But no. We hear nothing further about him – even if he is the same person as Bartholomew. That’s not to say he wasn’t a faithful apostle, but his Ferrari-style 0 to 50 in 3 seconds doesn’t seem to have given him a lead in the end.

So; maybe slow is better.

The fact is that we’re called to be both. Fast and slow, eager and cautious. The message of Advent just past is, “Be watchful, be wakeful!” be Nathanael; and the message of Lent soon to come, “Be measured, be deliberate”, be Samuel. We can often be slow to catch on – most disciples are, and God is always patient with us – but the momentum of our faith can pick up pace and give us tenacity. Equally, we need to respond to God with our whole being; joyously, unfettered – and God won’t hold it against us if, in our enthusiasm, we sometimes get our knickers in a twist.… Read More

There’s nothing wrong with the Collect for this Sunday (on the pewsheet). Signs and miracles are clearly a part of the message of Epiphany – God with us – revealing Jesus’ majesty. But in many ways, last week’s Collect (which just happens to be the best Collect ever, ever) would be more helpful for us in understanding the Wedding at Cana, today’s gospel.

“In Christ, you make all things new.” Last week’s prayer said, “Transform the poverty of our nature by the riches of his grace…”, and as well as being a prayer we can all relate to, it also describes what is happening in those stone water jars. Christ’s presence is making all things new.

Once, when the priest who trained me as a curate was preparing me to take my first baptism, I asked whether he was comfortable with the idea of “holy water”. Someone had asked if they could fill a bottle from the water in the font when it had been blessed. “All water is holy,” he replied.

Then, after I’d celebrated the baptism a few weeks later, he added, “What changes is the way you look at it.”

My hunch is that, “transforming the poverty of our nature” is 95% about transforming how we look at it – how we see things. Since God deliberately created me to be me and you to be you, it’s unlikely that he would want to change any of us beyond recognition. In fact, God simply wants us to be our true selves – and that is about clarity of vision; seeing life through heaven’s eyes. And what transforms the way we see things? Christ’s presence. If he abides in us and we in him, all things are made new – seen anew.

So: Jesus is present at the wedding, and it’s likely that things will be made new. But does he say to the water in the big jars, “I don’t want you to be water any more, I’m transforming you into a totally different substance.”? I hope not, because then he might also say to me, “I don’t want you to be Rod anymore…” But what if he says, like my wise training incumbent, “All water is holy – and you’ll be surprised by what it tastes like if I transform the poverty of your nature so that you see and hear and taste everything anew.”

I think it is wonderful that none of the guests except Mary and the steward knew that anything was different. The joy of the wedding just carried on; no one knew that anything or anyone had been transformed. It’s just that Jesus was there.

The same might be said of the bread and wine at the Eucharist. For centuries, Christians have argued whether or not the bread is physically changed into Jesus’ body at the consecration – “Transubstantiation” it’s called (and any concept that needs as big a name as that is likely to be dodgy). But if it’s our vision that is transformed, there’s no need for complex theology. “What changes is the way you see it.” It’s just that Jesus is there.

So as we journey through Epiphany towards Lent, limping a little as we have done this past year, struggling to see the world as a good, safe and wholesome place to be, we come back to the words of Julian of Norwich which I quoted in my very first Reflection, when churches closed last March: “All shall be well.”

Not because the vaccine is here. Not because we’ve got viruses beaten. Not because there aren’t huge challenges ahead for Joe Biden and you and me.… Read More

When you  know a story well, on second reading, the frightening and confusing elements fade into the background because you know how it’s going to turn out. The immediacy is lost – you know what’s coming, whether it’s good or bad.  Real life’s not like that and just now, Covid-19 make us painfully aware that we do not “know” what is going to happen next. Nor can we put this particular story aside – it’s ours, and even though this is version 3 of Lockdown, we cannot shake off its challenges or ignore our fears, simply because we’ve been through it twice before.

Christians have just celebrated Christmas and are in the season of Epiphany.  The stories of this season tell us of “God with us”, part of humanity, and they promise the revelation of God’s love to each one of us, regardless of all our differences and unworthiness.   Can these frequently recounted passages from Scripture help us now, during a pandemic?  Can they awaken or reawaken our sense of God’s presence in our daily lives and in our world?  Can they help us tell the story of God’s love to each other?

Today’s readings certainly get off to exciting starts – we are reading from the first words of the Bible in our Genesis passage and from the very first words of Mark’s Gospel.  The context of both passages is not entirely reassuring, though.   In Genesis, the earth is a “formless void” and there is profound darkness.  God’s spirit sweeps across waters in which earth seems suspended or drowned.  Mark’s Gospel begins in the Wilderness with a lone, maverick proclaiming “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins”.  John’s  dress and diet are just as wild as the rest of him, but needy people, in despair about the state of their world, are flocking out to him in droves.  At Jesus’ baptism, as water closes over his head, the heavens are torn apart.  Neither description is without its dangerous and disturbing edge.

Yet, what comes out of both passages is the loud assertion of God’s presence – all the time, from beginning to end. God is in control of the disturbing elements in both stories. In Genesis, God creates light and the balance between night and day.  Throughout this creation story, God is creating what is best for the universe, earth, creatures, and humans. What’s more, from the start, God delights in this creation.  In the Gospel, Mark presents us with John the Baptist, God’s chosen messenger, foretold by the prophets of old. This is Mark’s first hint that everyone is called to proclaim God’s love, in every age and time. John the Baptist’s words create suspense about the imminent coming of someone who will demonstrate God’s presence more effectively than all the prophets who have ever been – once again, as always, God is creating what is best for his world.  As Jesus emerges from the water, he is affirmed by God’s Spirit, coming down with the white brightness of a dove and, once more, God rejoices in what he has made, describing Jesus as his beloved son. God is there, in Jesus, the man; just as God was there for Mary and Joseph, the shepherds and Magi – in Jesus, the baby in the manger. God is there, at every twist and turn, and sheds his light on the darkest, formless places in our lives.

Throughout today’s readings, love is proclaimed – love, making things come into being, love, seeking good things to give and love, meeting the deepest needs of those with whom it engages. Mark is convinced that this is the love of God, fully revealed in a human being, in his Son, Jesus.… Read More

Dear Friends at St Andrew’s and St Nicholas’,

Hardly the start of the new year that any of us had been hoping for! I think we’d all had enough of this  by the summer, and each additional restriction since have been more and more of a struggle. And now we’re hit from all sides with schools closed and the anxiety of a new variant that is sending the infection rates soaring.

But there are, at least, more reasons to be hopeful this time. Most importantly, the end of these restrictions is a reality, not wishful thinking, because of the vaccine. Secondly, support bubbles can continue: and I would urge all of you living alone to find someone to share with in such a bubble if you haven’t done so yet. This will be at least a 6 week lockdown, and human company is very precious. We have people in the congregation willing to help if you don’t have an obvious candidate. Thirdly, places of worship are able to remain open for which we are very thankful. This is partly in recognition that churches, mosques and synagogues, behaving responsibly, have not been the source of any major spreading of the disease; but also recognising that, for people of faith, to be able to worship is as important as having food on the table.

I do entirely understand and respect those of you who have decided to worship at home until you have been immunised, and clearly, if you were told to shield last time, you should do so again and not attend church until 3 weeks after you’ve had the vaccine. But the fact that the church is open is symbolically a recognition of our being together in worship even if you aren’t able to attend. There is also the option to pay a visit to the church during the week if you make it part of your daily exercise. You will probably have the building to yourself and so be very safe.

For those of you who would like to continue coming to worship, we will adhere strictly to the new procedures we adopted last week for Tier 3. I’ve copied those changes again at the end of this message in case you didn’t receive them.

If you chose to come, the encouraging thought is that because we are all required to stay at home, none of us pose a severe threat to each other when we do gather on a Sunday. Compared to going to a supermarket where hundreds of people from around the area will have been there in the course of a day, the 50 or so very responsible people you would be sharing worship with represent a good option.

We will continue to provide liturgy, readings and prayers each week for those not at church, (as we have since Passion Sunday last year!) and telephone contact from a member of the congregation for all who live alone and are isolated. If you haven’t had anyone contact you, and would like that support, do please let me know and I will arrange someone to offer it for you.

I still remember the question someone asked back in the March lockdown, “Am I the only one who isn’t coping?” and the answer is, no, you’re not. If you need help or support through this hard journey, please, please do ask – there is no shame in it. In fact the opposite is true – it’s not right to suffer in silence. “We are here to help each other walk the mile and share the load.”

God bless and much love,

Rod x

Email sent out last week:

2nd Jan 2021

Dear everyone,

Tomorrow will be our first Sunday worship in Tier 3, and the wardens and I feel that we should change some of the procedures to take account of the increased rate of infection that we are now sadly experiencing in Chippenham.… Read More