By the rivers of Babylon. Psalm 137

Good Friday

By the rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept when we remembered Zion. There on the poplars we hung our harps, for there are captors asked us for songs, our tormentors demanded songs of joy. How can we sing the songs of the Lord in a foreign land?

In the year 587 BCE, Jerusalem was sacked and Israel sent into exile to Babylon. It was a complete disaster. Israel had lost the marks of her national identity, the land, the temple, the king, and psalm 137 expresses deep sorrow and lament. It’s not that God had abandoned Israel, but that Israel had abandoned her covenant with God, as the prophets warned over and over and over again. The prophet Isaiah in chapter 65, for example, spoke God’s word this way: All day long I have held out my hands to an obstinate people who walk in ways not good, a people who continually provoke me to my very face.

Do you not think this makes God weep? If psalm 137 cries lament to God over the disaster, I should think God cries lament towards Israel over that disaster. Perhaps it might be expressed this way: By the river of Babylon God sat down and wept when he remembered Zion. There on the cross he hung his harp, for there his executioners demanded a sign. They shook their heads in disbelief, he saved others but he can’t save himself.

The cross was God’s cry of lament and sorrow over his people. Mankind in general does not express godly sorry for sin, does not care about a relationship with God, and wants to replace God with himself as God. And that is the essence of sin by which mankind crosses the boundary of his own limitations, grasping for all knowledge of good and evil, grasping for all moral discernment without reference to God, mankind’s creator.

How terrible it was when the creature turned in disobedience against his creator, as told to us in Genesis chapter three where Adam and Eve coveted God’s place for themselves so that they could be like God. And the act of rebellious disobedience was done. The horror and blasphemy of it is unbelievable! That’s why sin is so dreadful. It cannot be glossed over as if she’ll be right mate. God is holy. His holiness is provoked by sin, and it must confront sin until it is destroyed. Otherwise God is not a god of justice, and is in contradiction with his own nature. God is holy equals God is love, and love has no truck with sweeping sin under the carpet as if doesn’t matter.

Now having set forth the seriousness of sin, and noted that God, in his holiness, must confront it for what it is, we are also given a picture of God as a waiting father. God has not abandoned his creation, as some might think. He waits with outstretched hands. All day long I have held out my hands. And the parable of the prodigal son that Jesus spoke epitomizes the waiting father. God waits; God longs for us to return to him in faith, trust and obedience. Let’s look at this a little closer in the context of Good Friday and the cross.

  

The cross is the place of exchange where the awfulness of sin is dealt with in a way that allows God to judge and condemn it as he must, yet at one and the same time to save and forgive because he so loves his world. It’s a beautiful solution to an otherwise impossible conundrum. And so long as a person looks at that by faith and says yes Lord it’s my sin that is judged and condemned for what it is, then blessed is that person whose sins are covered and atoned for. By faith the merits of Christ are transferred to him or her.

The logic of the cross, the beautiful solution, will never be understood by those who cannot say, Woe is me for I am lost. I am a person of unclean lips and I dwell in the midst of a world of unclean lips and unclean hearts; for my eyes have seen the Lord of Hosts! Or as St Peter exclaimed when his eyes saw the Lord of Hosts, depart from me O Lord, for I am a sinful man. In other words, the logic of the cross will never be understood by those who are righteous in their own eyes. Only when we see ourselves for who we really are before a holy god, will Christ’s acceptable and perfect offering of himself touch our lips and set us free. Only then will we hear those wonderful words, be not afraid, for I have overcome the world.

I mentioned earlier that God is a god who weeps and laments for his people. A god who cannot bear pain and shed tears over lost humanity is a god who cannot love, and is not a god I want to believe in. But a god who I see grieving for my return to him as a long-lost son, is indeed a god who I want to believe in.

I am also encouraged by these words from the letter to the Hebrews:

We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with confidence so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.

What this means is that we have a God who knows what it is to be human. He knows what social isolation is; to cry tears of grief over the death of a loved one – Lazarus. He knows our weakness when confronted with temptation – Jesus didn’t succumb to it himself, but he was nevertheless confronted with its power and subversiveness; and he understands our worries and anxieties, often speaking to his disciples about it.

Therefore, let us approach his throne of grace with confidence that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. And don’t we all need help at this time. At the outset of creation, God paused and reflected on his work saying, it is not good for man to be alone. And that not only means man and women sharing a life together, but people needing people, and especially people needing God.

So can I encourage you all this morning to reflect on your own need for God and approach his throne of grace, which is the cross, with confidence, knowing that God loves you, and by the merits of his son’s death (and only by those merits), are your sins forgiven.

Philip Starks

Published under Creative Commons Copyright Licence

 

Christmas peace ruling in your hears. Luke 2 Colossians 3

Christmas day

Angels announced on the first Christmas eve, peace on earth amongst all whom God favours, and the traditional understanding of that is that there will be peace on earth in our time, joy to the world, and goodwill towards men and women.

Peace in our time, joy to the world? Well that’s certainly a message of hope, and yes, the ancient prophets of Israel did look forward to such a time, but I don’t see much peace on earth in our time. The history of the world is littered with strife, war and conflict. World peace in our time is not happening. The crusades in the 12^th century, the Napoleonic wars in the 19^th century, two world wars in the 20^th century, and the wars on terrorism in this century do not make for a peaceful picture of world history. So either the message those angels spoke that night was a hopeless one of a false peace, or we need to understand their message in another way. What kind of peace were those angels announcing?

There is a point in Paul’s letter to the church in Colossae where he writes, the peace of Christ must rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. Paul puts his word must in a way that means his readers are to cultivate the discipline of it in their spiritual and interior lives. It is the peace of Christ, it’s not the peace of the world, because there is no world peace. It is the peace of Christ that reconciles mankind on earth with God in heaven, a peace that puts mankind at rest with God. Where does this peace reside? In the heart, which is the centre of your being, not the mind, because from the heart comes motivation, desire, convictions, emotions, intuition, holiness of life, and the fruits of the Spirit. The mind might work them over, but the heart knows them.

The peace of Christ is not some temporary escapism from everyday worries, or retreat into nostalgia for more happier carefree days. The Christian is not immune from the clouds of worry, anxiety and other such stresses that lurk at the doorstep of all who live in today’s world. How then does the peace of Christ rule in the heart of every believer? Consider this: it is written that fools say in their heart, there is no God. Fools therefore cry out, we have no God! We are orphans! We have no peace! But hear this: angels appeared to shepherds, fools and social underdogs of their day, to bring good news that there is a God. And now the peace of that God comes, which surpasses all understanding, keeping our hearts and minds in the love of Christ.

God came among us on that first Christmas eve because he desires a relationship with us that does not fear tomorrow. We are given the gift of peace with God, such that we who believe can rest secure in tomorrow, knowing that in all things God works good for those who love him. The great neutraliser of faith is fear. Recall when Jesus was asleep in the stern of a boat with his disciples on Lake Galilee when a storm blew up. The disciples woke Jesus up, frightened and expecting to go down with a sinking boat. But Jesus rebuked them and said, why are you so afraid? Where is your faith? A bit unfair you say, seeing that Jesus had the power to calm a storm and used it at that moment, whereas the poor old disciples had no such power. But on the other hand, God himself in the person of Jesus Christ was with them in the back of that boat, and they had direct access to him.

For us in our century, don’t forget that Christ is risen and alive, and he can sit in the stern of our little boat tossed about by world cares, anxiety and worries. We are so preoccupied with own way and our own advantage. Is that letting the Christmas peace of Christ rule in our hearts? I don’t think so. Why are we so afraid? Consider this: the one who invests the treasure of his trust in God’s house will never be defrauded or alone with no god, because that treasure is safe with God, whose eye watches over that one. How dreadful it is when a person no longer sees that, when his eye loses all sense of godly perspective of life, such that he regards the paltry pennies and miserable crumbs of his worrisome lot more highly than the hand of God that provides all he knows we need, not all we think we need. And being free to look to the hand of God for all he knows we need, rather than being slaves of worry for all we think we need, is one the great blessings of the peace of Christ ruling in our hearts, those faithful believers on whom God’s favour rests.

So, what is the peace of Christ? What peace was announced by angels on that first Christmas eve? Well what did the master himself say about it? My peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives. So, do not be let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. The peace of Christ that must rule in your hearts is not world peace in our time. It is peace between God in heaven and man on earth; man reconciled with God; the interior life with an inner composure of security with God, such that when you pass through the waters of chaos, God will be with you, and when you walk through the valley of shadow of death, you shall fear no evil. For Yahweh is the Lord your God, the Holy One eternal of Israel.

The peace of Christ to which we are called is a secure confidence that God is with us; Immanuel, God with Us, is the name given to the Christ child at Christmas. It is a secure confidence akin to a light shining in the darkness of our night. I recall once when I was on a bird research trip to Hey in NSW looking for Plains Wanders. Our task was to catch and tag the birds with radio patches so that their movements could be tracked and mapped. At night outback of Hey, it was very dark, no town lights, no moon light. Just pitch black, and as a city dweller, for me a bit disconcerting. A small torch light appeared on the other side of the camp, which brought reassurance that I was not alone. As the light of Christ has come into our world because of Christmas, we can rest secure in the presence of Christ, who comes to us in our dark nights of the soul. His is a presence that gives peace and stillness of heart in contemplative prayer and love of fellow man. It is not a stillness and silence that is an empty void, but rather it is a rich and vibrant presence. It is a stillness and silent presence that surrounds you, alive and living, such that you desire little if anything else. From the peace of Christ ruling in your hearts, flows peace among men and women, your fellow brothers and sisters in Christ upon whom God’s favour rests.

Friends, it’s God’s world, yet it is broken, strife torn, and imprisoned in its own worry. It’s a world that needs the peace of God surpassing all understanding, and if it doesn’t see that amongst we who are God’s church, we who have the peace of Christ ruling in our hearts, then it will cry there is no God, we are orphans, we have no peace, and why should we listen to those Christians in that church over there?

Does the Christmas peace of Christ really and truly rule in your hearts? As I said earlier, I don’t see world peace on earth in our time, and yet the old prophets of Israel did speak of such a time, and the book of Revelation foresees a new order where there will be no more pain and no more tears. But until then, peace in our time begins with us who are the church. It’s our mandated mission to show the world that there is a God who loves it and who grieves over its brokenness. So take heart and let the Christmas peace of Christ rule in your hearts. It begins with us.

Philip Starks
Published under Creative Commons Copyright Licence

Two moths and a sycamore tree. Luke 19

One night, two moths were sleeping in a bush, when one of them though he’d seen a light coming. Waking up his friend, they both flew up into a nearby sycamore tree to get a better view. The light was coming closer with more brilliance, and each of the moths began to dance and flitter about in their own inimical way.

In the tree was a wattle bird fast asleep, and when the moths come over, the wattle bird woke up rather annoyed.  Why are you two moths disturbing my sleep, the wattle bird demanded. We can’t help ourselves, said the moths. It’s the light. We’ve just got to be in it. And the more the light drew closer to the sycamore tree, the more the wattle bird reached across to draw his blackout curtain so he could go back to sleep. Whereas the two moths became ever more excited and alive. They wanted the light and they weren’t going to be disappointed.

Zacchaeus was like the moth sleeping in the bush, he just had to climb the tree and get a better look at the light that was coming by. For whatever reason, he couldn’t help himself. There was something about his growing interior life that was proving irresistible to the light of the passing Christ. What was it?

Now, before I suggest an answer to that, we need to look at some verses which are keys to Luke’s point in the story.

Jesus looked up and said, Zacchaeus, hurry down for today it is necessary for me to stay in your house. Jesus addresses Zacchaeus personally. It’s not, hey you in the tree get down now. It’s, Zacchaeus, friend and brother son of Abraham, make haste and do not delay – today is the day – now is your time. I must stay in your house and fellowship with you. For this is why I came, to seek and to restore.

Zacchaeus undoubtedly realised his material wealth did not satisfy. He was one seeking a connection, and so when one day God himself walked past and said I must stay in your house tonight, Zacchaeus hurried down and welcomed God gladly into the house of his heart, and would have sat Jesus down in the front room as an welcomed guest with food on the table, a bowl of water for washing a weary foot, and an ear to listen to whatever was going to be said in the ensuing conversation. That’s why Jesus exclaimed that today salvation had come to Zacchaeus’ house.

Zacchaeus had three things going for him that made him a person seeking a connection: a listening ear, an open mind, and a receptive, repentant heart. And when these three come together, that’s when Jesus invites you into fellowship with him. Today is your day. So rejoice and be glad in it.

Now, back to what proved irresistible for Zacchaeus to want to demean himself by scrambling up a tree like some street urchin, and not the rich man in fine clothes that he was. For Zacchaeus to do that, especially in the cultural context of his day, he wouldn’t have been simply curious. He could have just pushed his way to the front. There would have been a more fundamental need to be met in him. And I want to suggest to you this morning that it was the awakening of his fundamental need for God. All of us have something within that longs to be free of worldly anxiety, and to experience the silence and peace of the divine presence.

Some weeks ago in her sermon, our vicar showed us Maslow’s hierarchy of human needs. I noticed one missing: man’s basic need for God, which should be right at the base level of foundational needs. It comes even before bread and shelter. Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.

Our basic need for God is borne out of ourselves being created in God’s image. It’s a need expressed often in the psalms, which give us words to the effect of our souls thirsting for the Lord. Even one of our contemporary songs goes, ‘as the deer pants for water so my soul longs after you’. Jesus talked about himself being living water for thirsty souls. And does not our poor drought ridden country know all about water of life for thirsty creatures? It’s the same idea with Jesus being living water for thirsty souls.

Mr Maslow and his world of the psychologists seems to think mankind can do without God. Who needs him anyway? Well, when you push God out the door, what comes in through the windows but the ghosts of worry, anxiety, stress, drudgery and the like.

Human beings will fill the god shaped hole within them with anything but an encounter with the divine, and it never satisfies. Contemporary life so often reviews an endless parade of experiences to be consumed. The next, and then the next, and then the next. Not so with God. When you find yourself in a relationship with God, you don’t need to keep consuming the next experience. Your life with and in Christ is all fulfilling. You don’t consume it; you savour it. Come to me all you who are burdened and heavy laden, and you will find rest for your souls, said Jesus. He didn’t point his hearers elsewhere for fulfilment and the true rest of one’s soul; he pointed to himself.

Now this morning we have two little girls who are going to be baptised. I won’t say too much about baptism itself because you’ll hear all about that during the ceremony. Suffice to say here that baptism, as one of the two sacraments instituted by our Lord himself, is an outward and visible sign of something real and effective that God does for the interior life. It’s a witness, if you like, to the relationship of promise that the God, by his grace, is entering into with the girls. The outward and visible sign is the use of water and the signing of the cross using holy oil on the forehead. The something real and effective that God does for the interior life is the seal of his promise of eternal life for those who have come to him in faith and trust.

In baptism, the interior life becomes not just renewed, but re-birthed ‘in Christ’, that wonderful and mysterious way that the old interior life dies to sin and rises again to a new beginning. No one can know God without Christ; no one can know God expect by being in Christ. So when water is poured into the font, it not only represents the washing away of the sins of human nature, it also represents the quenching of the thirst for the soul that has come to God. And that is why salvation comes to the house of the baptised now – today.

The church welcomes the baptised person into fellowship with it; the baptised person gladly welcomes God into her life; and God welcomes the baptised into fellowship with him and into his house. That’s how it all comes together.

So, today salvation through baptism has come to the house of these two little girls, because they too are now daughters of Abraham – or they soon will be in few moments. And may they be nurtured and guarded in the faith so that in the fullness of time they will ask of the bishop for confirmation in the Holy Spirit.

Philip Starks
Published under Creative Commons Copyright Licence

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

Right and faithful worship. Isaiah 1

This morning’s reading from Isaiah is a bit rough. In fact it denounces Israel’s religious practices as utterly unacceptable to God, and he wants nothing more to do with them. Thus says the Lord, what to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? I’ve had enough of your burnt offerings. Incense is an abomination to me. Trample my courts no more. I cannot endure it. I will hide my eyes from you and I will not even listen to your prayers.

What’s gone wrong? Isn’t Israel supposed to be God’s chosen people? Aren’t they performing all the rites, rituals and ceremonies according to law? Why then is God so scathing of them?

In ancient Canaanite religion, the gods were invoked and presumed upon through the practice of the religious cult. If you wanted the gods’ approval and something done for you, you would perform the appropriate ceremony, sacrifice or ritual, and in return the gods would be obliged to grant your request. Very convenient because it put you in the hot seat with the gods at your bidding.

From human thinking it made sense. For example, you were dependant for a livelihood on the produce of a fertile earth, and if you wanted children a fertile wife too. So if you weren’t getting those, you had to call on the fertility gods, and off you went to visit the temple prostitute.

By Isaiah’s time in the 8^th century BCE, Israel’s worship didn’t look much different to Canaanite worship. The conquest of the land wasn’t as decisive and clear cut as it was supposed to be. Settlement of it by the tribes of Israel took a long time, and over the centuries, Israel’s religion, which was supposed to be exclusive to Yahweh, became infused with Canaanite religion. And so the covenant between Yahweh and Israel was in serious danger of becoming extinct, which was the situation in Elijah’s time. Remember the confrontation on Mt Carmel between Elijah for Yahweh and everyone else for Baal. Elijah of course was proved right, but at great cost to himself.

I suppose it was a bit like Christianity in the 4^th century when Emperor Constantine made it the official religion of the Roman empire. The church was allowed to take its place in the rites and passages of Rome, and over time it came to look like an empire church. If you look around a Christian church service today, you can still see remnants of that. Clergy and other sanctuary officials wear white to indicate they have an official office and role. That’s descendant from the white togas of Roman officials and senators. Why does the bishop have a posh special chair set aside just for him or her? That’s a throwback to the district Roman governor’s chair set aside just for him.

Fortunately, the Christian church remained mostly faithful to its Lord and God, unlike ancient Israel whose fidelity to Yahweh was all but gone. And that’s why the prophets were sent to call Israel back to right and faithful worship.

So, back to our question of why Israel’s worship was so unacceptable. It’s because God cannot be manipulated or presumed upon in a mechanical manner, such as performing a ritual in a certain way, or relying on objects to be sacred to which one’s god is obliged to respond. The real god doesn’t work like that. He’s not a credit card and all you need is the right PIN for him to dispense a solution to a problem.

It is all too easy for us in our day to attend religious service as a kind of insurance policy. I’ve done my Sunday morning hour and now I can claim God’s favour. It’s all about me. Then when God doesn’t pay out the claim, I lift my eyes to heaven and say it’s not fair after all I’ve done for you. It’s all about me. We can be very religious and yet be living lives of complete self-centeredness, never giving God a hearing let alone our due worthship of him (ie, our due worship of his worth).

So how does it work? How does a relationship with God work, and is it religious? Is Christianity a religion or a relationship? It certainly looks like a religion and is often treated like one. But is it? I don’t recall learning about Jesus setting up a religion in the image of Roman officialdom. But I do recall learning about him teaching in terms of relationships – love God, love others; being children of a heavenly Father; sharing in a wedding feast. All these things are in the language of relationship, not religion.

What Isaiah and all the Old Testament prophets kept hammering home was the point that access to God is not gained through sacred objects and rituals in themselves. Rather, access to God is found in response to acceptance and obedience to his Word, confession of faith, and adherence to the ethical demands of his Kingdom.

What does God require of us? The prophet Moses said Hear O Israel; and in our churches today after each reading, we are exhorted to Hear the Word of the Lord. Through the psalmist God says sacrifice I desire not, but mercy and a contrite heart. And through the prophets Isaiah and Micah we are told that God requires us to do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with our God, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow – the ethical demands of the Kingdom. These are all responses to what God has done for us. It’s all about the acts of God in human history, not the acts of mankind in history.

So where does that leave the rites, sacraments and ceremonies that happen in our church today, and how are we to approach them?

Well the first thing I want to say about this is that everything that happens in our services of worship in this parish is designed with one thing in mind, and that is the right and faithful worship of our God in spirit and in truth. The sacraments are not celebrated as points of religious duty to be performed as ends in themselves, and we should not think of them that way. They are marks of covenant relationship, tangible ways by which God ministers to us through the forgiveness of our sins and our penitent and contrite hearts.

There is music chosen as praise of God in song; there is opportunity for prayerful intercession for others; there is due honour and worthship of God offered in the prayers for Holy Communion; there is absolution pronounced for the forgiveness of sins; the scriptures are read aloud so we can hear the word of the Lord. It’s all about our response to what God has done for us. It’s not about what God is obliged to do.

Now I know we have things like votive candles, a couple of icons, and occasionally the bells and incense. There was a time no so long ago when I would have stayed away from them because I saw them as meaningless points of religiosity. And I wouldn’t have darkened the doors of Benedictine abbey to waste time droning through psalms multiple times every day.

Then I remembered what God has done for me, and I am happy to spend time in the psalms and in silence at the abbey. I am excited to be still in the presence of the Lord and know that he is God. The bells, incense, candles and icons have all become meaningful ways through which can I respond to God. They are certainly not mechanical means of doing self-justified duty, and then expecting God to do his. I do not come into God’s house asking what’s in it for me. But rather as the psalmist wrote, by your great mercy I come into your house. (Ps 5:7)

That, ladies and gentlemen, is right and faithful worship that the Old Testament prophets called Israel back to, and it’s also what our Lord and Saviour set before us in his parable of the penitent tax collector. God have mercy on me a sinner. I tell you this man went home justified before God.

It’s all about giving God the glory, and our response to what he’s done for us.

Ascribe to the Lord the glory due to his name;

bring an offering and come into his courts.

Worship the Lord in the splendour of his holiness;

tremble before him, all the earth.

Philip Starks

Published under Creative Commons Copyright Licence

Shrewdness for the kingdom. Luke 16

During the Second World war the Vatican was neutral territory, and by and large the Germans respected that. However, they knew that British airman POWs were using the Vatican as an escape route out of Europe, and that there was monsignor who was organising these escaping POWs. It’s a true story told in the film The Scarlet and the Black, with Gregory Peck as Monsignor O’Flaherty and Christopher Plummer as Herbert Kappler the German security chief in Italy.

O’Flaherty started his work with very little, and gradually over the months people put their money, their time and their homes at his disposal. They were investing in the allied war effort against Nazi Germany in whatever small way they could. O’Flaherty was totally entrusted with it, and he enlisted his diplomatic connections and friends in and around the Vatican to ensure the allied airman would remain hidden from the Kappler and his forces. The film tells the story of O’Flaherty’s ingenuity and shrewdness in how he used what was entrusted to him. He would rent property as safe houses to hide the escapes; he would buy food on the black market to feed them. And at the end of the war he was honoured for his services to the allies. O’Flaherty was faithful with little, therefore he was honoured with much.

Kappler, on the other hand, served another master. His wealth was obtained through extortion, demanding the local Jews hand over 100 pounds of gold in return for protection, which of course never eventuated. Where did Kappler end up after the war? A life sentence in prison for war crimes.

Kappler was not faithful with worldly wealth, so how could he expect true riches?

It’s classic, and the parable of the dishonest manger is all about how we use worldly wealth for Kingdom outcomes, with a warning that we should not allow worldly wealth to become our master. That’s why Luke writes his Greek as “unrighteous money”, in that only God is righteous and therefore only he should be our master.

Now this parable has often left Christians scratching their heads, because on a superficial reading it comes across as Jesus commending a dishonest manager who squanders his master’s property. The man is going to lose his job, so he goes round discounting his master’s debts to serve his own interests because he knows he is very shortly going to be homeless. Plus, at the end of the story, Jesus says, I tell you make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth. How are we going to unravel this? Obviously Jesus isn’t going to commend dishonesty. But what he does commend is the manager’s shrewdness, the way he used his smarts when faced with a challenging situation.

Let’s have a look at it: the first thing to notice is that the manager is moving towards the day of accountability, and what he has done has reached the ears of his master. What is this I hear about you? Give me an accounting of your management. And like the manager in the story, we all moving towards our own day of accountability for the stewardship of what we’ve been entrusted with, are we not? The manager goes out and calls in those who owe debts, and they are very large debts. It would take more than a lifetime for debts of those magnitudes to be repaid. Sons and daughters would have inherited the debts. Either that or they would have been sold into slavery for them.

Now it appears the manager is discounting his master’s debts, such that his master is losing up to fifty percent of loan earnings. But he isn’t, because those debts will have been in form of bonds stipulating a fixed amount of payment by a due date. So the real loan might have been 50 gallons of oil, plus some fee for the master’s return on his loan investment, plus the manager’s fee as the master’s agent. The bonds couldn’t stipulate a rate of interest because that would be usury, which was illegal under the Law of Moses. So lenders required borrowers to write IOUs or bonds. Hence the manager in the story got the debtors to write new IOUs without his own large fee as agent. And in the process the debtors would have seen both the manager and the master as very generous. New friends for life are made; a win, win situation.

Whether the manager proved himself at that point, or whether he still lost his job, Jesus doesn’t conclude the story either way. The story is meant to raise questions. It’s told to the disciples who are in training for going into the world with a message of good news that there is a god who wishes to redeem mankind from itself and its refusal of that god. In other words, the disciples are going to be charged with the responsibility of continuing Jesus’ ministry to the world after he has returned to the Father in heaven. And it carries a serious responsibility, one which they, and us as disciples today, are going to have to give an account of. What’s this I hear about you? Give me an account of yourself.

How have we as Christ’s followers used what he has given us in terms of worldly things? That’s the question the parable is asking. We in Australia are very wealthy. Most of us have jobs, leisure time, a house of some sort, the freedom to worship and proclaim the Christian message. It is not illegal to do that in this country.

Our own parish here in Lara has a lot entrusted to it. We have wonderful plant and facilities and an effective opportunity shop that provides a good and necessary income. Without it we wouldn’t have a full time parish priest who does an enormous amount of work for the good of the community at large, as well as for her own parishioners. We have generous donors to our food bank that feeds those who cannot always afford good food for themselves.

All of us have time. We are not without free time. All of us have something of ourselves to contribute to parish work and mission. The question is, how are you using those? How are you investing your time and availability for Kingdom outcomes? And are you using them well, being strategic and positive in thought about them? I tell you, use worldly wealth to make friends for yourselves, so that what it is gone you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.

It doesn’t matter how much or how little you have. What matters is how faithful you are in using it for Kingdom outcomes and your relationship with God. Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much.

Jesus isn’t condemning the possession of worldly wealth. It’s not a sin to be rich. The problem is what you do with it. Will it become your master, or will you be its master for Kingdom outcomes? This is the question Jesus raises at the end of parable, because he sees the Pharisees, who love money, listening in. They are double agents serving two masters. They keep the law of Moses, yet they also keep the law of worldly wealth. And you can’t serve two masters. Double agents in the world of espionage ended up getting shot on both sides. Poor miserable wretches they became.

To bring the point home, Jesus tells them another parable, the rich man and Lazarus. There’s a rich man who accumulates wealth for himself, and when he dies he finds himself outside eternal dwellings. Looking across the uncrossable chasm, he sees poor man Lazarus enjoying those eternal dwellings in the arms of Abraham. The fact that the rich man had wealth is the not the problem. Abraham was a very wealthy man, yet there he is in eternal dwellings. The reason Abraham is where he is, is because he was faithful with his wealth, put it at God’s disposal and did not allow it to master him. Not so the rich man across the chasm outside eternal dwellings. Message to lovers of money: this is where you will end up if worldly wealth becomes your master.

And there’s also the parable of the talents with the same message. You all know the story: three people are given a store of worldly wealth. Those who were given ten and five talents acted shrewdly and brought back a good return on what the master had entrusted them with. But the one who was given little just sat on it thinking it’s too little, too late, and I can’t do much with it anyhow, so I’ll just hand it back. At least it won’t be lost. But he was still called to account. What did he do with his worldly wealth? If he couldn’t be faithful with little, how then could he be faithful with much. And his talent was taken away and given to those who had acted smartly and invested for a good return.

For the past two years, this parish has participated in the parish renewal program called Pathways. It’s a program that trains parish teams in a method of appraising what they have, where they want to go (the focus group), and how to move along the path in the right direction. It’s all about strategic thinking for Kingdom outcomes. This parish has a focus group of people seeking connections. In other words, we are well aware of people in Lara who are disconnected, perhaps because of unemployment, recently retired struggling with transiting from an active working life, loss of a relationship, single parents, the aged, and any who are burdened by needs of many sorts such that they experience loneliness. Did not Jesus say, come to me all who are burdened and you will find rest for your souls. That’s why our parish renewal team in the program has chosen people seeking connections as our focus group. Many of them may well need to experience rest for their weary souls.

We are a parish entrusted with a ministry to the disconnected. So let us keep thinking shrewdly about how we use the resources we have. And the whole thing of course must be underscored with prayer. It is the Holy Spirit who brings people to us for help. Our job is to respond and to offer ourselves in his service.

So, the question for the week I want to leave you with this morning is: are we being shrewd and faithful stewards of this world for the next?

Philip Starks
Published under Creative Commons Copyright Licence