A day to remember. Malachi 2

The Apostle Peter wrote, we have the prophetic word confirmed, which you do well to heed as a light that shines in a dark place until the day dawns and the morning star arises in your hearts.

Advent is a time of great expectations, a time to wait and a time to prepare for a Day to Remember. Peter encouraged the early church to take particular note of their scriptures, the words and work of the prophets, being as relevant to their day as they are in ours. We too in our day have the prophetic word confirmed as a light that shines in a dark place until a Day to Remember dawns. So let’s examine what the prophet Malachi had to say to Israel in his day, and what he has to say to us in our day.

The people of the Malachi’s day, in the 5^th century BCE, were encouraged to prepare for a Day to Remember. So says the Lord, See I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple. But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can endure his Day to Remember?

Malachi, and the prophets before him, spoke about a Day of the Lord. There will be a Day, a day of reckoning reserved at God’s own choosing. In Old Testament times, that Day was expected to be a divine visitation within history, and in later New Testament times, particularly as expressed in Paul’s letters, the Day of the Lord was also understood to be the time of the end of history as we know it, when Christ will return to put all things under his feet. But in the immediate context, and this is Luke’s take on it in his chapter 3, the Day of the Lord meant the day of his visitation within history, the first Christmas Eve.

Malachi says there will be a messenger who will prepare the way, and that the Lord himself will suddenly appear in his temple, in person, the Day of the Lord within history. And Luke, being the careful historian he is, pin points that day to be in the year 29 CE, the fifteenth year of Tiberius Caesar.

Luke and the other gospel writers clearly identify Malachi’s messenger to be John the Baptist, who preached repentance as the required preparation for the Lord’s appearance in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. And then of course one day the Lord did visit his temple, and what did he find, or more to the point what did he not find? He did not find it as a house of prayer, but as a house of commerce. Then as you all know Jesus proceeded to throw everyone out.

Just imagine it, a bright sunny Sabbath morning in Jerusalem, verger is polishing the pews, sacristan is getting the goats ready, the exchange rate is decided – no Roman denarii welcome here only shekels will do, welcomers are ready at the door, and suddenly God himself walks in. He looks round and asks what do you think you’re doing? This is my house, not Wall Street. Everybody out! The verger goes up to God and says excuse me would mind leaving, you’re creating a disturbance. But God turns round and says, on the contrary, you’re the ones creating a disturbance, and it’s not your temple, it’s mine.

The Day of the Lord actually happened in history, in the year 29, and God actually visited his temple, just as the prophet Malachi said he would. The year 29 was during the Roman occupation of Israel, and the people’s great expectation was to see God’s justice, to set the captives free, bind up the broken hearted, the poor are blessed and not trampled under foot by Roman tax collectors.

Now, we need to ask, what is justice? Is it a lust for retribution, eye for an eye, stiffer sentencing? Or perhaps a longing to see just deserts? If it’s a longing for just deserts and the like, none of us would be able to stand before a perfect and holy God. Which is why Malachi says of the Day of the Lord, who can endure it, who can stand? Yes, there will be banishment from God’s presence of those who refuse him, of those who scoff and mock, of the fools who say in their hearts there is no God. But then fools will not follow the cross of Christ. And the cross is where justice is to be found.

After Jesus cleared the temple, that was the beginning of the end game, as it were, for Jesus. The temple authorities began to plot how to get rid of him. Let’s get rid of God. We don’t want him visiting in our temple again. Let’s sell him out, and 30 pieces of silver later that’s exactly what they did. Money changes par excellence. They exchanged God for money with the help of the insider trader. And with it they nailed God to a cross.

But there were those who mourned and wept at that; there were those who fled in fear; there were those who honoured him by anointing his body with very expensive myrrh and burying him in fresh new tomb fit for the rich. And there were those who kept watch at the tomb early on the Sunday morning, and were rewarded with seeing his risen self.

Did not Jesus say, blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted; blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God. These are the ones who are made right with God, who are justified before the Lord. That’s why they are blessed. God’s justice is about the raising up of the faithful obedient to eternal life. They are the ones who shall see God on the Day of the Lord. They saw him risen and they shall see him again in his glory when the last day of history arrives, the Great Day of the Lord, the final Day to Remember.

So getting back to Malachi’s words. There will be a day within history when God’s justice will be seen, and a messenger will precede it. That messenger of course was John the Baptist in 29 CE. Malachi also says, as I’ve already mentioned, there will a question of endurance, a question of who can stand when the Lord appears. And then Malachi goes on to say he will be like a refiner’s fire and like a launder’s soap. He will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver until they present offerings to the Lord in righteousness.

Now Malachi, in the context of his own time, was referring to the old priesthood, which had become corrupt and therefore no longer effective. But by the time John the Baptist comes along, Malachi’s words are now coming to pass in history. John the Baptist, Malachi’s messenger preparing the way, says of Jesus, he will baptise you with the Holy Spirit and with fire, and that he will exercise justice by separating out the good from the bad and the ugly. In other words, Jesus brings not only God’s justice and the cross, but also a time of refining fire and separating out of the good from the bad and the ugly. And since God’s justice is found at the cross, so is the refining fire for those who would be faithful and obedient to the end.

The cross will more than likely take you, for a time, where you don’t want to go. For there is a time to tear down and a time to build; a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance; a time to be silent and time to speak. The place where the cross takes you may be emotional, relational, a lonely place, an anxious place, a fearful place, a powerless place. But wherever the cross takes you, God is there with you, as Psalm 23 expresses so beautifully, even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, you are with me, your rod and your staff comfort me.

Why does the prophet advocate a spirituality of struggle before the Day of the Lord? Why must a messenger come to prepare the way?

The essence of struggle, in whatever form it takes, is not found in endurance without hope. Unrelenting endurance can drain the spirit and drive a person away from God. Where’s the justice in that? That doesn’t raise up the faithful. Those who mourn don’t look very blessed like that. Rather, the essence of a spirituality of struggle is your decision to say yes to God in the face of that struggle. It is an opportunity to grow in relationship with God. That’s why the messenger Malachi spoke of had to come. The voice of one crying in the wilderness, prepare, turn and be baptised. Get ready because the opportunity for your yes to God is at hand.

The essence of struggle is God’s opportunity for a new creation in you. Are you not a new creation in Christ? Is God not the potter and are you not the clay? Be assured, God is not in the business of driving people away from him. Does his word not say I will not contend forever, nor will I always be angry. For the spirit would grow faint before me, the spirit of man whom I have created? God is in the business of creating afresh faith obedience for his children as they await the Day of the Lord.

God is not going to leave you to your own devices, to your own fate, to struggle on ad infinitum until there’s nothing left of you. God is all about building you up, not tearing you down. He’s there, and the psalms are rich in that testimony. Jesus has already been to the cross for you. He knows what it’s like to be crucified, and you can’t get much more forsaken and in despair than that. Through him, God knows what it’s like to be human. He knows we are faint of spirit, and we are not abandoned as if a lost cause. But try telling that to outsiders. Show them a cross and tell them about the narrow way and hard yards, and they’ll say no, we don’t want it. What we want is the bells and whistles of religion and the wide road that goes with it. And they will choose poorly.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to break down and a time to build up; a time to mourn and a time to dance.

Those words from Ecclesiastes reflect a spirituality of struggle and endurance, with hope. They are the times when faith obedience is forged ready for the Day of the Lord. Such faith obedience can stand sure and secure when the Day of the Lord comes calling. Then will those who mourn turn their mourning into dancing; those who are broken will be lifted up; and they shall all be blessed. The righteous ones; the justified ones. And it shall be a Day to Remember with great expectations.

Philip Starks

Published under Creative Commons Copyright Licence

Astonishment and tears. Luke 5. Luke 7

The two stories this morning are stories of something hidden, something for which a deep longing has been held, and now has at long last been shown. Tears are shed in astonishment and gratitude, former things have passed away and all things are made new.

Years ago our family had a holiday near Lake Eildon. One hot afternoon my brother and I took our fishing rods and some tackle down to the water’s edge to see what we could catch. There we were puddling around the edges of the lake all afternoon, and what did we catch? Nothing. So when I read the story of the miraculous catch of fish, I have some idea how Peter and his comrades might have felt, having fished all night in the shallows and caught nothing. But I have no idea how he felt when Jesus produced an astonishing catch the next morning. And this is what interests me in the story: Peter’s response. If it were me, I would have shaken Jesus by the hand, offered him a stubby and been beside myself with glee. But what was Peter’s response? Go away from me Lord for I am a sinful man. Why? Why did Peter want Jesus to go away?

As with anyone who encountered Jesus then, and does so today, Peter did not remain unchanged. It was not a case of as-you-were. The astonishing catch of fish was not simply a display of divine power for its own sake. Its purpose was to disclose Jesus for who he really was, the divine son of God, and in doing so was meant to draw those who saw it into a closer relationship with God. Indeed, this was the purpose of all the supernatural acts of divine power that Jesus did. Miracles were done to open eyes, incline hearts, and order steps in the ways of God. And another supernatural act of divine power granted by Jesus was the miracle of forgiveness, for example to the woman who wept at his feet. Let’s call her Lady Picasso.

But, you say, are not miracles all about healing, feeding crowds, providing wine at weddings, and raising the dead? What’s this about the miracle of forgiveness? Well consider this: those miracles were all about God providing for his people in abundance, and the healing of body and spirit – the whole person. Were they not gifts from a heavenly father? So what do you think forgiveness is all about? Did not Jesus often say when he healed someone, your faith has healed you, your sins are forgiven, go in peace, or other words to that effect? And do you not think that forgiveness is God’s abundant provision of restoration to himself? That’s why Lady Picasso lavished so much love and attention on Jesus, for her many sins were forgiven. And besides, is not the miracle of forgiveness one of raising of the dead in spirit, or the dead in sin?

As I’ve read the text of this morning’s gospel readings and listened to them being spoken to me by my audio bible, I’ve tried to imagine myself in the stories as an observer of the characters; a 21^st century fly on the wall, as it were. There I am in the boat when Peter saw the miracle and how he fell at Jesus knees, so overwhelmed he must have been by what he had just witnessed. I see utter astonishment on Peter’s face as he stares at Jesus. Who is this man? What has happened?

Peter is afraid of it and realises he is standing in the divine presence. An overwhelming sense of his own sinfulness engulfs him, and he tells Jesus to go away. He doesn’t just ask Jesus to go, he pleads for him to go. Luke here is bringing out the intensity of Peter’s response to the moment. How does Jesus reply? Does he say, go away from me Peter for you are a sinful man? No. He replies, do not be afraid. Peter’s confession of his own wretched state before God enables his relationship with God to come into its own. Jesus draws Peter to himself, which was the purpose of the miracle. Peter underwent a healing of his soul and of his humanity. The sinful and wounded soul is healed, therefore the relationship with God is healed.

Confession is absolutely necessary because it releases the soul from its prison of self-absorption, guilt, and pain of separation from God. Confession is a very positive thing, because to harbour self-righteousness is to lock yourself up in an endless void where you cannot hear God’s voice, where you cannot smell the air perfumed with his breath, let alone see the love that sits in his eyelids if only you would not stand opposed to him.

People say, I have no need of thee because we are righteous ones in our own eyes. So God goes away from them. But to him or her who says go away from me Lord for I am a sinful one, God says do not be afraid. Come to me you who are heavy laden and I will give you rest.

Lady Picasso also had a healing of the soul. She knew what she was and so did the Pharisees. So why didn’t she go to them to have herself cleansed according to the law? Because the Pharisees had no mercy, and neither did they have the power to forgive sins. Somehow our Lady knew this, and that’s why she sought Jesus out.

Let’s put ourselves in the picture here. I’m a 21^st century fly on the wall in that first century room. I see Lady Picasso enter the room with her jar of ointment and stand behind Jesus. The Pharisees bristle and you can cut the air with a knife. They know what she is, but they do not know who she is. And that’s because their interest lays in what the law says about her, not who God knows her to be.

She begins to cry, just standing there weeping slowly, tear drop by tear drop until they begin to wet Jesus’ feet. It’s an intense emotional response of godly sorrow. Then the lady begins to wipe Jesus’ feet with her hair. The Pharisees are scandalised. Firstly she is touching and kissing a man who is not her close relative. Secondly she is using her long hair, which was supposed to be a mark of a woman’s finery, for what they see as an act of debasement. And on top of that, she begins to anoint Jesus’ feet with very expensive oil. Extravagant waste they think. Can’t they see what is going on? Not at all. As far as they’re concerned, this should be a case of go away from us for you are a sinful woman. But Jesus sees it differently. Lady Picasso loved the Lord her God with all her heart, soul, mind and strength. She was ever hearing, seeing and seeking, and so she turned and was healed. To her was the promise of our Lord, anyone who comes to me I will never drive away.

You see, it’s all about the extravagance of God’s healing and restitution for the soul that yearns for righteousness. For the one, the astonishment of God’s abundant provision of a catch of fish brought Peter to a moment of a personal one on one between himself and God in Christ. In that moment, Peter the fisherman became Peter the Apostle. And in that moment when Peter was afraid and pleaded with Jesus to leave, he was given words of assurance not to be afraid, because in the event of godly sorrow and confession, as I mentioned earlier, God will never drive you away. For the other, the extravagance of God’s love brought Lady Picasso to tears such that she could only respond in kind. To her were the Lord’s words of reassurance, go in peace for your faith has saved you.

Both Peter and the Lady did not leave their encounter with Jesus the same as they were before they met him. It was most definitely not a case of business as usual, as-you-were. The former things had passed away; the new had come. Both were at that point called to a life of discipleship. One followed Jesus in the close company of twelve, the other followed through a changed conduct of life into whatever relationships she went on to find and make.

You see friends, in encountering Jesus Christ as God, we have to move into a new kind of relationship with him. The old has gone; the new has come. And we have to allow our experience of that to restructure our lives, their meaning and their point. For Peter and the Lady, the promise of Jesus was theirs: I have come that they may have life, and have it more abundantly.

Philip Starks
Published under Creative Commons Copyright Licence

A conversion of consciousness. Luke 13

We heard in our gospel reading this morning of Jesus’ lament over the City of David. God’s chosen place unable to recognise her own messiah, and the religious leaders, who are supposed to be shepherds of God’s people, unwilling to accept and believe in the one whom God sent to them. Jerusalem, a place that stones and prophets and kills those sent to her; Jerusalem, the place where God choses to dwell with his people, the place where those people are supposed to be blessed and who are supposed to declare Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.

The temple was God’s house, and a city that hosted God’s house was under the protection and blessing of that god. But in the climate of religious politics and lack of faith of his day, what does Jesus say? Look your house is left to you desolate. And 40 years later that’s exactly how the Romans left it when they destroyed Jerusalem in AD 70.

What happened?

God’s sorrow over the loss of Jerusalem and of the faith of his people is clear. Through the prophet Jeremiah 600 years earlier, God asks What fault did your fathers find in me that they strayed so far from me?  In other words, what have I done to deserve this from you? I brought you into a fertile land to eat its fruit and rich produce. But you came and defiled my land and made my inheritance detestable. In other words, I gave you the best in generosity and plenty. So why have you trashed it and thrown it all away? And Jesus’ own lament over the loss of Jerusalem, reflecting his Father’s sorrow, cries how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you are not willing.

Why? Why was Israel not willing?

Let’s put it this way. The human heart, left to its own inclinations and devices, demands its own way and does not want to surrender itself to the ways of its creator God whose ways are not the human heart’s way and whose thoughts are not its thoughts. The human heart left to itself stands steadfastly opposed to God. That’s made pretty darn clear many, many times throughout the pages of scripture. Indeed, Israel’s heart is described as hard and calloused in Isaiah chapter 6, her ears dull and her eyes closed.

If you think I’m singling out Israel unfairly because of what scripture says about her ancient history, St Paul says the same thing in his letter to the Roman Gentiles, of whom you and I are the cultural heirs and successors. The human heart and mind left to itself, is dark, hard and closed to God. Tragically, it says no to God. And that’s what sin is: your no to a perfect and holy God who is your creator, and who as the only God has the perfect right to your worship and glorification of him.

Holiness is a fundamental part of God’s nature, and as such so is the worship and glorification of him. 

But as we all know, the human heart and its attendant ego will always seek to glorify itself.

You cannot live in fellowship with a holy God, yet remain in a state of sinful hardness of heart towards him. It is death and it has to be atoned for, that is to say, it has to be made amends for. It’s like I offend a close friend. If I want to be reconciled with that friend, I have to go to him or her and make amends. It doesn’t work to simply say, never mind it doesn’t matter. It does matter, especially where God’s holiness has been trampled on and trashed.

Where then does that leave us today? What is to be done with the hardness of the human heart towards God?

There needs to be a conversion of consciousness, that is to say, there needs to be a whole new opening of the heart’s awareness of who God is and what it means to be in fellowship with him. There’s got to be an awakening and a thawing of hearts and minds towards God’s presence in human life. There’s got to be a Yes response to the good news message of the gospel. And this conversion of consciousness can’t be taught. It has to be experienced, like an “Ah” moment, or when a point of meaning gradually “dawns” on us. Teaching and preaching can lead to it, but the Ah point itself is the work of the Holy Spirit.

St Peter wrote about this in his second letter to the Christians in Asia Minor. In it he advocates the study of scripture until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts as a light shining in the darkness.

Now we’ve all seen brilliant dawns when the sun is moments away from peeping over the horizon. The sky is a navy blue, no longer dark and black, with perhaps a wisp of white cirrus cloud capturing a golden tint as it anticipates the sun’s rising. Or you may have seen a fine crescent moon against the navy blue sky, with Venus hanging just underneath it like a brilliant white diamond in the sky, the morning star rising in the heart, the light dawning through the darkness of the heart.

That’s what a conversion of consciousness is like. It takes time; it’s now but not yet, and may come about in many and various ways. St Peter wrote of its coming about through study of the written word, receiving it, listening to it, and pondering it slowly until that day dawns and that star of the Ah moment rises in our hearts.

Why is Peter so concerned about the heart? Because in Middle Eastern culture the heart is the centre of consciousness, not so much the mind as Western Greek and Roman culture. Intellectual assent is not by itself a sign of conscious state, but words that come from within one’s heart and being are. And that’s what God is tuning into when he searches and examines us, as it is written in psalm 139. Search me O God and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. The mind doesn’t tell you how you feel or how to respond to something, but the heart does.

How do you feel when you read and listen to God’s word? How do you respond to it? Do you simply hear it, in one ear and out the other? Do you merely give a nod of mindful assent, or do you spend time allowing it to sink down into the centre of your being? How much time do you spend with God alone in prayer telling him what really matters to you and how you feel about it? Or do you give him one hour a week on a Sunday morning and then go home?

Do you lay your sorrows before your God who knows all too well what sorrow and lament is all about, or do you play the blame game with him?

Friends, we are in a time of parish renewal. Parish renewal is not just about how we can improve the work and outreach we do in our community and in the global village, important through they of course are. Parish renewal is also about a conversion of consciousness in each and every one of us. There is ample opportunity to explore a conversion of consciousness: quiet times in our church midweek; places to sit or walk in prayer; chewing things over with God. Or perhaps a room in your home set aside where you can go in, shut the door and pray to your Father in heaven who sees what you do and will reward you with that wonderful presence of fellowship that the Holy Spirit endows us with.

Then shall the morning star rise in your hearts and the new day dawn. Then shall you say Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Then shall you be transformed in the renewing of your mind. Then shall you declare My heart is stirred by a noble theme.

The conversion of consciousness.

Philip Starks
Published under Creative Commons Copyright Licence