Destined for Salvation: Sermon Preached on 19th November 2023 (Second Sunday before Advent)

The Parable of the Talents (2013), © Andrei Mironov

Preached at Holy Cross, Seend and St Peter’s, Poulshot

Readings – 1 Thessalonians 5.1-11; Matthew 25.14-30

“For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night.”

So, Jesus Christ will return like a thief in the night to judge the world, and He told a story about what that judgement would be like that ended with a poor servant of a harsh man being thrown out into the outer darkness—where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. I have to be honest, this morning’s readings make me uncomfortable, and I suspect they made most of you uncomfortable too.

Partly, I think, our discomfort come from not wanting to be like those Christians, you know, the ones who are very sure that they are going to be Jesus Christ’s personal hitmen when He returns, when they’ll happily help Him out as He casts a few wretches into the outer darkness. We’ve all met a few of them in our time. It is right that we don’t want to be like those Christians, far too certain for their own good that they have this Christianity business nailed down – and far too inclined to forget that Scripture is clear that judgement belongs to Christ and Christ alone, and not to them nor anyone else.

The Parable of the Talents (2013), © Andrei Mironov
The Parable of the Talents (2013), © Andrei Mironov

But unless we ourselves are also too certain for our own good that we have this Christianity business nailed down, we should accept that if the Gospel is worth believing, it must be capable of disturbing our comfortable certainties. If Jesus Christ is going to actually come back in glory to judge the world – and He repeatedly stated that He would – that means He’s going to come back to judge us. And we all know that we aren’t quite the lovely people we like to pretend we are for public consumption – certainly, I know that I’m not. Quite apart from that, few of us could mount a case that we have made the spectacular 100% Return on Investment from the talents God has given us achieved by the profitable servants in this morning’s Gospel. I don’t know about you, but I haven’t solved many wars, ended many famines, or brought many people to Faith.

When I hear readings like these from the Bible, at first blush I can find myself thinking that God may be a being I need to fear, but He’s hard to love, and I even wonder sometimes if want to associate myself with this Jesus Christ fellow and His tales of mistreated servants.

But let’s dig a little deeper into the readings, because there are a few points that can be easy to miss, and which are far more hopeful.

Read more

The Workless Labourers: Sermon Preached on 17th September 2023 (15th Sunday after Trinity)

The painting entitled the Parable of the Labourers in the Vinyeard (1880) by Lawrence Ladd

Preached at St Mary’s, Potterne

Readings – Philippians 1.21-30; Matthew 20.1-16

“…he said to them, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’”

Gerry Lynch standing in front of a table groaning with labelled bottles of various types, which was a tombola competition.
What does tombola have to do with eternal life… well, we’ll come to that folx.

Yesterday, it was the Michaelmas Fayre in the Devizes Corn Exchange organised by the charity linked to St John’s Church, Omnes ad Unum. I was manning the tombola stall, and took in a healthy amount of cash, so felt very pleased with myself. At the end of the day’s trading, I wandered around bragging rather insufferably. Now, I didn’t give any of the prizes, except for a can of chickpeas and a can of chopped tomatoes, both from the highly-regarded Lidl own brand range. Somehow I don’t think those were exactly what pulled the punters in! My success was entirely dependent on the generosity and kindness of people who had given the prizes, and those who had organised the event.

Indeed, ultimately, whatever success I may have had depended entirely on God.

The parable of the workers in the vineyard is so familiar that we can sort of surf through it in our minds when it’s being read in church. Yet sometimes there are little details we notice for the first time. When I read it to prepare for preaching this morning, it hit me that none of these workers had any other work. Four times after the start of the working day, the land-owner sees men standing idle in the marketplace because nobody has hired them. Presumably all these men had families to feed.

So, this isn’t just a matter of whether the people who worked all day have been treated fairly. The land-owner’s decision to pay a full day’s wage to those who have worked for only a short time has more profound implications for them, and their loved ones, than we perhaps noticed. It might even be a matter of life or death for some of them.

The painting entitled the Parable of the Labourers in the Vinyeard (1880) by Lawrence Ladd
The Parable of the Labourers in the Vinyeard (1880) by Lawrence Ladd. Now hangs in the Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington, DC.

This is the last parable Jesus tells in Matthew’s Gospel before he begins his final journey to Jerusalem, so it must be one of great significance. That journey will be a matter of life and death for Him, and for us who share the Christian faith, it is a matter of eternal life and the destruction of death itself. Like the land-owner, Jesus Christ offers the same wage for those who work for him, whether they do so for their whole lives or just for a short time – and that is eternal life.

The land-owner doesn’t short change anyone – he gives some of his workers a fair days wage for a fair day’s work, and some of them the full days wage they need to survive, even though they have only been able to find an hour of work. This is something he does out of his own generosity. So it is with God – He offers us eternal life, not as a reward for good behaviour, but because He loves us.

Read more

Reflection on ‘Betrayal’ for Holy Week; Wednesday 5th April 2023

Given at Christ Church, Bulkington

Matthew 26: 20-25, 36, 47-50

Betrayal provokes emotions in us that are perhaps more disturbing than those that result from any other human experience. In that light, it is perhaps understandable how Judas has, in countries with a Christian cultural background, become a synonym for a particular type of wickedness. To call someone a Judas is one of the worst things one can say about them.

It is one thing to be attacked or undermined by an enemy, a rival, or even a random stranger — but when a trusted friend turns against us, the direct impact of whatever wrong they have done to us is often eclipsed by the feelings left by an abuse of trust, friendship, and love.

Being betrayed can, understandably, leave people very bitter. For all that such bitterness might be understandable, it is also dangerous. Bitterness is an emotional and spiritual acid; it risks corroding our humanity if we allow it to fester.

Read more