Who should we expect? Matthew 11

We have just been through an election, and we might well ask of the winner, are you the one or should we have expected someone else? What did we go out to the ballot boxes to see? What kind of candidate did we expect on the ticket? Well, we all know that a candidate won’t get too far in politics unless they have presence, unless the voters are wowed with promises, glitz and a social media frenzy to boost their image. In other words, you are not a vote winner unless you are a winner. Meek and mild-mannered losers need not apply. Or at least that is the perception generally held by the electorate.

But on the other hand, what is a real people leader like and how do they end up? I can’t think of too many examples. Aung San Su Ki, Nelson Mandela, Gandhi perhaps? You might think of others. And the common thread that runs through these three, if my memory serves, is that none of them became leaders through popular glitz, social media glamor, and playing power politic for their own sakes. All of them have been recognized as leaders because they exercised a servant heart for their people. They worked to set captives free, to raise up the poor, and worked for a just society of the common good. The power politic of their time tried to silence them. The people of their day might well have asked, are you the true leaders we have been looking for, or should we expect someone else?

Likewise, John the Baptist was preaching a charismatic message of the coming of God’s messiah, and he recognized who Jesus was when he baptized him. But when John found himself in prison, he must have thought to himself, what have I been preaching? Have I been totally mistaken? This Jesus I have known is not exactly the charismatic type of messianic leader I expected. He isn’t thumping the Pharisees or driving out the Romans, and there’s no sign of any power politic to restore great Israel as it was under David. So he sends messengers to ask Jesus, what kind of messiah are you? Not exactly what we expected. Perhaps we should look for someone else.

Jesus sends John’s disciples back with a message of hope, affirmation and encouragement. He says, if you want to know what kind of messiah I am, see and hear what I am doing, and call to mind what the scriptures say about it, the prophets like Isaiah and Micah who centuries earlier wrote about one who would come from God and do exactly what you see and hear of me doing now.

What do think about it my good and faithful messenger, who has prepared well the way before me? See, the blind receive sight; the lame walk; the deaf hear; the dead are raised back to life; good news of the nearness of God is proclaimed to the poor. And blessed is anyone who is not scandalized by me, who does not take offence at me because I am ministering to those who contemporary society has rejected as unworthy and unclean. These are the people my Father welcomes into his house, not you Pharisees and Sadducees who condemn the unclean and the unworthy.

I am not a messiah who plays power politic. That is not how the Kingdom of God comes about. My role as messiah is to set captives free, raise up the poor and dejected from the dust to give them hope and a future, knowing that there is a God who is on their side.

Now, there is another level of understanding that Matthew wants to get across to his readers. He’s not just saying that Jesus is here to fulfil what the old prophets wrote about him regarding making people see and hear again. Yes, Jesus could do that in the time when there were no cataract operations, bionic ear implants or heart defibrillators like we have in our time. Jesus’ work was truly miraculous. But there is another even more truly miraculous opening of eyes and ears and raising of the dead that this points to. And it is the reason why Jesus often told those whom he healed not to say anything about it to all and sundry.

The problem was that all and sundry did get to hear about Jesus as a miraculous healer, and as a result he had to confine much of his ministry outside the major towns because the crowds there would seek him out as a miraculous healer. But how many of them wanted HIM? Did they want to enter into a committed covenant relationship with the Son of God for better for worse, for richer for poorer, rather than just for material gain and relief from physical ailment?
We see an example of this in the ten lepers who Jesus healed. Only one of them came back to give thanks. The other nine went on their merry way all clean and healed. But that one came back seeking relationship with the one who could heal, not just his physical ailment, but his relationship with God, one who could make him clean and guilt free before a holy and loving Father God. And he expressed that in gratitude.

There are three verses in chapter one of St Paul’s letter the Ephesians that explains: I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may KNOW HIM BETTER. I pray that the EYES OF YOUR HEART may be enlightened so that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and the incomparable great power for us who believe.

The key point here is opening the eyes of the heart that it may be enlightened. Jesus’ healing of eyes and ears is not just the physical but also of the heart. An enlightened heart that sees and hears God speaking to it, is also a heart that speaks to God in communion with him. An enlightened heart wants Jesus for who he is, not just relief from physical ailments. Jesus always looks for faith first; always looks for the one who desires a relationship with him first. Then he commends that one by saying your faith has healed you, as we often read in the gospels. And it only takes a mustard seed’s worth of faith. God is satisfied with that.

In Hebrew thinking, a person is an integrated whole. Body, mind and spirit are not considered separate categories. The heart is the center of our being, not the brain or the mind as they are in our Greek inherited western thinking. It is the heart that sees (perceives) and hears (understands) and desires communion (speaks). So when Jesus commends those who come to him in faith with an ailment for healing, he is healing their whole person, opening the eyes and ears of their hearts so that they may know the God who has done this for them.

Why do you think Matthew writes of the time when two blind men cried out to Jesus, Lord Son of David have mercy on us? Jesus stopped and ask them, what do you want me to do for you? Their answer? We want our sight. Jesus had compassion on them and they received their sight and they followed him. Matthew is telling his readers that the miracle of sight is more than physical. The men asked for mercy first. They wanted Jesus first, to see him. Then the eyes of their hearts were opened and they received their sight.

That is the gift of discernment and of new life in Christ, the gift of eternal life, the raising of one who was dead to Christ and the things of God. And it is worth everything. Life can begin again. That is the great hope we Christians have. That indeed is wonderful news for those who by faith put their trust in God, and stick to it regardless of what they look like to outsiders and without counting the cost of it.

You see, the Kingdom of God has a heart for God’s people and comes in unexpected ways and from unexpected quarters. Just like Nelson Mandela who had a heart for his people, the downtrodden of South Africa. Who would have thought that when he began a life sentence on Robbin Island, that one day he would be President of South Africa. The ruling National Party would have laughed at that – dream on. But history have proven that hope for the poor and the oppressed did indeed come from an unexpected quarter.

Likewise, Jesus said to the crowd, when you went out to see John the Baptist, what did you expect? The ruling class in fine clothes on a day trip out from their palace? No. You saw a prophet wearing poor clothes and living off the land. And yet he is the one who is my messenger. A prophet of God indeed announcing the advent of the Kingdom of God from an expected quarter. And then there’s the circumstances of the arrival of the messiah himself as a baby lying in a horse trough because all the hotels in town were full. Not exactly what we would consider as appropriate for the Son of God’s arrival into our world. Totally unexpected.

Now the thing is, those whose eyes and ears of the heart are closed to the things of the Kingdom will never discern those things of their own accord. They are firmly focused on worldly standards and values and that’s that. The riches and values of the Kingdom are hidden from them because they have closed hearts, eyes shut and ears stopped. And that is because they don’t want to know. But the one who cries out have mercy on me O God, I want to see you, will be given that wonderful gift of sight and hearing that enables him to recognize the Kingdom of God coming from those unexpected quarters and times and places.

So as we move through this season of Advent and our theme of hope, let’s ask the Lord our God to open hearts and minds, and help us to guard against complacency. Through prayer and praise and study of the scriptures, the eyes and ears and voices of our hearts will stay open and ready to receive whatever good gifts our Father God give us.

So let me finish with the words of our Lord from verse 15 whoever has ears, let him hear.

Philip Starks

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Caring for the natural environment. Genesis 2 Leviticus 25

At Alpha the other week, one of the participants on my hosting table happened to have read the story of Noah and the flood and asked the question, what has a rainbow got to do with the story of a flood? Very good question from a young lady seeking a connection. And it put me on the spot for bit fumbling for a quick answer to a profound question. I said something like, ancient Middle Eastern people didn’t know about rainbows being caused by rainwater droplets acting as prisms to split sunlight up into its seven component colours. They thought about them as the sign and seal of a covenant between God and his creation after the catastrophic flood. Well at least the ancients correctly associated a rainbow with the clearing rain storms.

Had I thought quickly enough, I might have commented that the story of the flood, and its associated promise of a never-to-be-repeated global flood, together with the sign of a rainbow, is an apology against the widespread ancient worldview that the gods are at war with the earth, whereas Israel’s god, the one and only true and living Yahweh, is not at war with the earth. In fact he has bound himself to it in covenant promise, signed and sealed to preserve it as his own. It is a good creation, a good natural environment, and God is not hostile towards it.

The land is God’s gift. It is not ours to own, but to tend and take care of it, made clear in Genesis 2.15 and Leviticus 25.23-24. The land is given to support us, and if we use it responsibly it will support us. We are not to consume, abuse and exploit it. Would you consume, abuse and exploit your own home? Of course not.

These are the words in Leviticus 25.23-24, the land is mine and you are but aliens and my tenants. Throughout the country that you hold as a possession, you must provide for the redemption of the land. This is as good as God saying to us, be careful what you do on and with my land. This sets up a relationship between ourselves as tenants and Yahweh as owner-landlord, and this in turn sets the framework of our ethical thinking about it, that is to say, the way we think through our decisions and choices regarding our use of the natural environment.

To love God means to value what God values. Conversely therefore, to collude in the abuse, pollution and destruction of the natural order is to trample on the goodness of God reflected in his creation. It is to devalue what God values, to mute God’s praise and to dimmish his glory.

Israel was dependent on the land for her livelihood, and that is why the law provided for harvest festivals of ingathering and first fruits. They were festivals of thanksgiving to God for his provision of land and produce. I remember as a boy at Church of England primary school in the village of Hazelmere, harvest festivals in the church next door. The altar would be piled high with farmers’ produce in thanksgiving to God. Those local farmers knew where their livelihood came from, and in gratitude they offered the first fruits in worship of their divine provider.

Perhaps if we were to suggest a harvest festival of first fruits to the farmers of here in Lara and Little Rive, we might get a response. Perhaps they would appreciate it if their local church (us) recognized the contribution they make to the community and the fact that their land feeds us. 

There is in Genesis chapter 3.17 a statement to Adam (in the story that explains the how mankind and God relate to each other, or not) that sets out one of the consequences of mankind’s sin against God as being, cursed is the ground because of you. What this tells us is that mankind, because he is out of harmony with God, is also at odds with the earth from which he was taken (made). And you don’t have to look very far to see that.

When I see land abused, used as a dumping ground, logged until there’s nothing left but dead stumps, untended and weed-ridden, it takes on what to me is an unhappy ambiance about it. It’s a sad land, a cursed land to use the language of the ancient writers, which if it could speak would say something like, what have I done to deserve this from you? But land that is tended, watered, and cared for flourishes. Forests provide homes for birds and animals; flowing rivers water the land and so on. It takes on the ambiance of a blessed and fruitful land.

Living in harmony with the land includes being aware that we are not the only created beings on this earth. In the creation story, we share the sixth day with other life forms. God formed the animals and birds from the ground, just as he formed humans from it. In other words, we share the land with fauna and flora, and that means it devalues the glory of God to abuse, destroy, make endangered or, the ultimate, to cause extinction of God’s good created things.

So when you visit a wilderness park, think about these points of biblical ethics. It’s God’s beautiful creation, so give thanks to him for your visit. Leave it as you find it. I remember one of my bush walking trips to Sealers Cove at Wilsons Promontory, a ranger happened to be making his rounds, and I commented that there weren’t any rubbish bins at the campground. He said yes, that’s because what you carry in you can carry out again. Point taken.

I’m also reminded of how indigenous Australians have known how to live in harmony with the Australian landscape for thousands of years. They use only what they need and leave the rest alone. They belong to the land, whereas we think the land belongs to us.

So what can I say to sum up before we break into our chat groups? Well, it occurs to me that since God is a god who provides for all our needs, he is a servant god. Christ is our servant king. Think about it for a moment. God provided our relational way back to him through the death of our Lord Jesus Christ; God provides the land to meet our needs of sustenance, recreation, and aesthetical appreciation. It’s a beautiful creation and it’s provided for us out of God’s generosity. And since Yahweh is the god who serves us in this manner out of his great love for us, it is our bounden duty towards him, in reciprocal covenant love, to use it responsibly and sustainably, and to take care of it.

Philip Starks

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The power of the prophetic call. Jeremiah 1

What are your signature moves? That is to say, actions that are hallmarks of who you are, born out of defining moments in your life. Signature moves can be forms of self-expression because like other forms of self-expression, they enable you to live out who you are. For example, expressing myself through practicing my clarinet, spending adequate time in prayer and preaching, and loving my wife-to-be, all find their genesis in defining moments across my life’s history.

God has signature moves as well, but they are not born out of defining moments in his life’s history because God has no history; he is eternal. God’s signature moves have their genesis in eternity. God is a speaking god, so we can expect one of his signature moves to be the calling of things into existence, such as at creation and the call of a chosen person into a faithful relationship with himself. It happened to the prophet Jerimiah in the year 627 BCE when God’s word came to him saying, before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.

What strikes me about these words is that they are determined in eternity. They did not come from an invitation of the synagogue, or something Jeremiah had done, something he had earned or a successful job application. But rather, God chose, consecrated and appointed Jeremiah before he was born. These are the perquisites for the job: God’s full and complete knowledge about Jeremiah – more than he knew about himself, and his election to God’s purpose. That’s what made it Yahweh’s sovereign choice. And it is for this reason that God’s signature move of election and calling carries the power and authority to speak and to act in his name.

What were the marks of Jeremiah’s call? God knew him, meaning that he chose to enter in to a deep, personal commitment with Jeremiah, Jeremiah belongs to God; God set him apart, meaning that Jeremiah was made holy and distinguished for service to Yahweh; and Jeremiah was appointed, meaning that he was given to the task. In other words, God had got his custom-called Jeremiah for his purpose.

Now Jeremiah, being a human person existing in space and time like the rest of us, did not have the whole of history open to his inspection. He saw things from where he was and from his own perspective. He saw himself as too young and inexperienced to be God’s foreign secretary on the world stage – the prophet to the nations. But God pre-empted Jeremiah’s perspective by putting his calling into another perspective.

When I was learning to ski, I would hang on to the lift tows for dear life, bent forward desperately trying to stay upright. You can always spot a learner skier because they are bent forward on the ski tows – as I was. Then one day a ski instructor said to me, you’ve got to shift your centre of gravity. It is too far forward and that’s why you keep falling of the lift. Bring it back into your pelvis where your natural centre of walking balance is – your natural centre of gravity. Then just stand there and let the tow do the work of pulling you up the mountain.

So when I listened to that and tried it, low and behold it worked. I was able to stand upright and relax while enjoying the ride up the mountain and being able to look around at the scenery at the same time. My centre of gravity had shifted, producing a whole new perspective on the matter of skiing. My use of the ski tow improved 500 percent, not because of my ability as a skier, but because of the instructor’s skill in knowing more about me on the slopes than I knew about myself.

Jeremiah at first could only see things from his own perspective, but God shifted Jeremiah’s centre of gravity – as it were – away from himself and on to God’s foreknowledge and elective purposes by saying, before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I consecrated you. Nothing to do with Jeremiah’s ability to speak or any self-confidence he might have had to go and shirt-front Jehoiakim and Zedekiah, kings whom he had to deal with when Jerusalem was finally captured by the Babylonians in 587 BCE.

Now why did God have to shift Jeremiah’s center of gravity like this? Well he’s not just answering the prophet’s objections and encouraging him to build some self-confidence. These are typical of human nature aren’t they. But this signature move call of God doesn’t have its genesis in human nature. It is the power of God given so that, as St Paul puts it in his letter to the Philippians, I can do all things through him who gives me strength, to which there is only one response needed: awed acceptance, obedience and gratitude.

God’s choice of Jeremiah was less about the prophet’s ability, but much about his availability. Yahweh’s gracious touch of Jeremiah’s mouth was as dramatic as the seraph’s cleansing of Isaiah’s lips. The word that God put in his mouth burned its way into his heart and made itself an indispensable and irresistible part of the prophet’s existence. And that’s why the prophet Isaiah said of God, my word shall go forth and not return to me empty.

So where does this leave us today?

Well the prophets of old have long since disappeared into history, yet God has not left himself without a witness of old. There is a witness, one with the prophetic role of advocate, counsellor and guide. One whose existence is grounded in eternity, who is - yet has already been, and who will be - yet has been before. And his name is the Holy Spirit.

Friends, it makes sense to me that if we immerse ourselves in prayer with the Holy Spirit, our centre of gravity – as it were – will shift away from self-focus to being more God-focused. We will experience a fresh perspective in our home lives, our working lives, our ministries, and our understanding of time.

A shift in our centre of gravity from self-perspective, limited by space and time, to God’s perspective, which is not limited by space and time, will open up new possibilities, new ways by which God will do new and surprising things. He is not limited the way we are. That’s why Jesus promised that whatever we ask for in prayer in his name, and believe it, we shall receive. Nothing is impossible for God. Or as God said through his prophet Isaiah, is my hand too short that it cannot redeem? Or have I no power to deliver? In other words, surely you don’t think I’m a powerless god, do you?

Ok. So we have the Holy Spirit as witness to God’s word and activity, and we have the promise that nothing is impossible for God. But what about God’s church today? What about God’s community on earth today? What should we do? Does the church have a prophetic role to call out Kingdom ethics that need to be called out, to tell the good news of Jesus Christ and what he has done for lost mankind?

Friend’s, the church faces a world that is hostile to God, a society that seeks to silence the church and pressures it to compromise its Kingdom ethics message. The voice of authority is being replaced by the voice of opinion; proclamation is replaced by discussion; the Word of God is replaced by words of men; the call to faithfulness to Yahweh is turned into religion; the kings of the earth do not worship the Lord their God. In other words, the church is losing its prophetic voice. It’s increasingly being sidelined as irrelevant to today’s post-modern living. What are we to do?

Well, ladies and gentlemen, let us not loose hope, even in our small corner here in Lara and Little River. Remember that we have the Holy Spirit as God’s witness to who he is and to his action in our lives. Jesus called his church into existence, beginning with his chosen apostles, and that call did not have its genesis in any man or woman, but in eternity, God’s eternity, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.

Remember that by the power of the Holy Spirit, we have the authority to speak of what we know, what we’ve heard, and what we’ve seen. And that means we, who are the church, have a prophetic role in society today. We won’t always be listed to; we will suffer the world’s attempts to silence us; our message of Kingdom ethics will be opposed, but we must continue to speak and not be afraid to do so.

Brothers and sisters, the church’s message, our message, is organic, that is to say, we witness in our own time to the redemptive work of God in our lives. Tell your story.  Our message is theocentric, that is to say, it bears witness to humanity’s need for God’s forgiveness, wisdom, revelation, blessing, protection and rule. Without those, mankind is indeed lost, anxious and does not know to whom it belongs or where its real security is to found. Our message is also progressive, that is to say, it is like a seed that germinates, grows and develops.

Now I think we’re making inroads in our parish on this score. Groups of us are engaging with Alpha, a program that tells the story of Jesus Christ, who he is and what he had done; people seeking a connection with God have recently joined us; our three-year mission action plan is about to explore other ways of our church’s call to prophetic work in our local community. And with prayer in fellowship with the Holy Spirit, our work will be a seed that germinates, grows, and develops.

What about you?

Philip Starks
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Their master's voice. John 10

In Myer’s café Melbourne for a lunch time coffee one day, I was looking at a baby in his pram. Shopper’s voices everywhere yap yap yapping away loudly, and baby looking blankly straight ahead. That is until he heard his mother’s voice and then straight away his eyes and ears were fixed on his mum and her attention fixed on him. The two engaged, mum talking to her little lad, and he flapping and kicking in response.

On another occasion at Werribee zoo one afternoon, I was watching a young girl playing in a sandpit. Her attention was very focused on what she was doing, quite oblivious to the voices of others around her. Then to my left came a voice, Lucy! And immediately Lucy recognized her mother’s voice, dropped what she was doing and ran towards her mum.

Then there’s a short video clip of a deaf baby being fitted with a hearing aid. Up until that point, his life was one of silence. Imagine being the mother or father, knowing that your child can’t hear you. Anyway, as soon as the doctor turned on the hearing aid and mum said baby’s name, the child’s eyes and full attention turned to mum. He heard sound for the very first time, his mother’s voice for the very first time. The expression of amazement in the child’s face says it all. It was a moving moment for both mother and child. Mother knows her child so well that hearts and minds are desiring of relationship. That’s what makes it work. She is the shepherd and he is her little lamb.

Jesus talked about himself as being our shepherd and we his sheep knowing his voice. As Lucy at the zoo, and baby in Myers, recognized their mother’s voice, so we too recognize our Lord and master’s voice when we hear it.

One of the Bible’s answers to the question of personal identity is that human beings are those who are known by God. And when a person is drawn into a covenant relationship with God through Jesus Christ, that takes on a deeper and more intimate meaning. Let me put it this way: a mother and a father know their own child in a deeper and more intimate way than they would someone else’s child. So it is with those who have become children of God. And it is they who know their master’s voice, just as a child knows its mother’s or father’s voice and responds to it.

Being known by God meets our need to be recognized and acknowledged in the most profound way. Who am I? I am known and loved by God; I belong to God; I am no longer an autonomous self, but rather I am found in Christ. And that’s why I recognize my master’s voice. It is not a question of I think therefore I am, as Descartes’s dictum says, but rather I am known therefore I am.

Let’s now consider how we recognize God’s voice and what sort of response that might produce.

As the writer of the letter to the Hebrews reminds us, God speaks in many and various ways. And no doubt every one of us here this morning has a story to tell about how that goes for us. But some things I have noticed over the years appear to be common ground. One thing we cannot do is simply switch on the sound and expect God to be there on our terms. It doesn’t work like that. God is encountered and heard by disclosing himself in thought, word and deed. Only then will we be able to discern his voice.

It’s a gift that matures as the years go by through our participation in, and experience of, that covenant relationship we are in with God. That’s why Jesus said MY sheep hear my voice. They (we) are in that special covenant relationship with him. Those who are not won’t recognize it. That’s why Jesus said to the Pharisees, you don’t believe me because you are not my sheep. And it’s why none of the other kids in the zoo’s sandpit batted an eyelid when Lucy’s mum called out.

There’s also the problem of other voices demanding to be heard and consuming our attention, and they are a loud cacophony. One of them is Mr Busyness. Always insisting there is something else to occupy our time. Never stops. Far too busy to attend to the things of God and be present in his house.

Another is Mr Worry. Always pointing us to the next thing to worry about. Always shouting, Oh dear what if. And soon we are too tired and drained to attend to the things of God and be present in his house.

And by far the loudest voice is Mr Myself. I am first; it’s all about me; I can do it my way, and so and so on. Always appealing to the centre of self. And soon we are slaves of the advertising industry. God is pushed out the front door. And when God is pushed out the front door, what climbs in through the windows? The ghosts of loneliness accompanied by Mr Worry.

So what can we do about all this? Is there a solution?

Well yes there is. And it’s found in the book of 1 Kings: Elijah’s experience of a still small voice. Recall the story of how Elijah was on the run hiding in a cave. There was a loud and powerful wind, but the Lord was not in the wind. Then there was a noisy earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. Then there was a raging fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. All those noisy competing voices. Then after the fire came a gentle whisper, and when Elijah heard it he pulled his cloak over his face and stood at the mouth of the cave. He had heard and recognized the still small voice of God.

That’s one of the keys, ladies and gentlemen. The use of silence to pay attention and hear God’s voice in whatever way or means he comes to you. That’s why Jesus said when you pray go into your room and shut the door. Get off the noisy street. It’s why the rule of St Benedict has a chapter on the use of silence for the monks and nuns of his order. Its why clergy go on silent retreats. Shut out the noise and the cacophony of competing voices that seek to drag you away from the Lord who knows you by name, by name.

As I said earlier, God can speak to us in many and various ways, but the place where we really learn to listen is when we listen to his word in the scriptures. This is the best school for learning how to tune in to him in other contexts. Are you reading the bible during a time of anxiety, or thanksgiving, or when you are facing an important decision?

Reading for listening is not the same as reading for content. We all know what the content is, but have we asked ourselves how we respond when we hear a bible verse or passage? How does it affect us? Do the words we hear resonate with us in some way, as in give us a heightened sense of alertness or attention? Or perhaps they disturb us emotionally. How tuned in to that are we? Did not the two who met Jesus on the road to Emmaus comment afterwards, did not our hearts burn within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the scriptures to us?

That’s why the lessons are read aloud on Sunday mornings. And they have to be read well. Are you excited by what you hear? Is your spirit quickened when you hear? Do you turn towards God? Is your attention focused on what you are hearing, just as baby heard its mothers voice for the first time?

Does not your heart burn within you when you encounter God in the quietness of your sacred space?  God is the solution to the loneliness of the human spirit. I am known therefore I am. And when God speaks in to that, nothing else matters.

So when we are reading to listen (it’s called Lectio divina, or sacred reading), we need not be afraid to let our hopes and fears become part of our reading as we strive to understand what God is saying to us. It helps us tune in to the heart, which is the place where the Holy Spirit dwells within us.

Mary Magdalene wept at Jesus’ tomb thinking his body had been stolen, her hopes dashed and her fears realized. But then in the early morning light, Jesus appeared alive and well, although at first she didn’t recognized him, that is until he called her by name. At that point the voice of the shepherd entered in to Mary’s heart, opened her eyes, aroused her senses, and affected her in such a way that she could do little else but surrender herself to him in adoration and worship, knowing that her lord and master was alive and knew her by name. She had heard her master’s voice.

Ladies and gentlemen, when you retire to bed this evening, I encourage you to think about how God speaks to you, and how you might hear and respond to your master’s voice.

Philip Starks
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Jesus lament over Jerusalem. Luke 13 Matthew 23

God’s distress over his people and the role of lament in Christian living.

Aw, there there. Look on the bright side of things. It’s not so bad. How about a nice hot cup of tea to calm the nerves? The last thing I want to hear when I’m in distress is how about a nice cuppa tea. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often have I longed to gather you as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings. But you are not willing. Look, your house is desolate. How about a nice cuppa tea? That doesn’t make the suffer feel good at all. But it does let the observer avoid an uncomfortable moment. Is that a good response to anyone in distress? Of course not. Jesus isn’t just feeling bad about himself, and the last thing he wants is a cuppa to calm him down. So what is Jesus doing when he laments over Jerusalem?

Notice that Jesus’ words have a direct link to those of the prophets (particularly Isaiah and Jeremiah) who lamented Judah’s lack of faithfulness to their covenant with God, and since the words of the prophets and those of Jesus himself are the words of God, the lament is actually that of God’s distress over his people, and especially over Jerusalem, the City of God, the seat of his presence with his people.

Jesus’ lament gives voice to his desire for justice and the making of things right between man and God. God has a covenant relationship with his people, not a simple transactional relationship. A covenant relationship goes deep, and so it is out of the depths of God’s heart, a heart filled with pain, that God laments.

Now what’s this about God’s heart is filled with pain? Well there are innumerable places in the bible that talk about God’s love for his world and his people, particularly in the writings of John. For example in his first letter, John writes, how great is the love the Father has lavished on us that we should be called Children of God. And in another place he writes that God is love. It’s God’s very nature to be the divine one who loves. So when people turn away from him, that one who loves is grieved, as the writer of Genesis put it, the Lord saw how great man’s wickedness on the earth had become. And the Lord grieved and his heart was filled with pain. That’s what Jesus, as God in person with us on earth, is lamenting. To lament is to taste the tears of God.

Jesus’ love for the world is deep, as we are reminded in the song, “how deep the Father’s love for us, how vast beyond all measure. How great the pain of searing loss, the Father turns his face away, as wounds which mar the chosen one bring many sons to glory”. We also see Jesus’ grief and anguish for the world when he visits the garden of Gethsemane the night before he died. Luke describes that experience being to the point of sweating drops of blood. So intense is his love and therefore his grief over what must be done. But notice that when all is said and done within that experience, Jesus hands the situation over to his Father, not my will be done but yours. In other words, Jesus is able to relinquish his circumstances and his grief over the world only after the struggle of lament and petition is done.

And I think it is the same for us when we are in the midst of a lament of affliction. That is to say, we are crying out to God in times of need, be that for ourselves or others. When we have given voice to our feelings and desires for justice, help, or relief for whatever situation we are in, when we have struggled with that, when we have turned to God with that, then we find ourselves free and able to relinquish it all to him and find that peace with him that passes all understanding.

Lament is a very powerful expression of empathy. Empathy being the way one comes alongside another in times of trouble. And it’s not to say, there there have a nice cuppa tea. Empathy of course is part and parcel of one’s emotional intelligence. It is sensitivity to another’s feelings and concerns. It is taking the perspective of where the other is at. But with lament for another, you are going further. You are coming alongside another person in a deeper way, wanting to share their feelings and concerns to the point where they cause you distress on behalf of that other.

Lament is also a very powerful form of intercessory prayer, because it brings before God the suffering and afflictions of others for whom you are greatly concerned. It allows the language of affliction to be expressed. It enables us to stand in the breach, as it were, lamenting for them and with them. The psalms are replete with examples of this, a treasure trove. They are the Hebrew prayer book.

Lament is a legitimate part of our Christian faith. It gives proper expression of anguish and desire for restoration of relationship. That’s why our expression of remorse for sin brings sorrow. We are expressing our desire for restoration of relationship with our heavenly Father, are we not? And that’s why confession has such an important place in our spiritual lives. To confess is to seek restoration. A soul that cannot express itself in lament and confession is a soul in exile. And I can’t imagine anything so awful as a soul in anguish because it is not reconciled with its creator, the Father in heaven.

Now we, in our western church, have a problem with lament. In our church lives, lament has almost disappeared in favour of praise worship, although we do have confession in the lead up to the Eucharist. But we forget that there is a time to weep and time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance. And just as we are called to confess sins, so we can be called to lament. It is a cry for deliverance, a cry of empathy, a cry for justice, and an acknowledgment that we have been damaged by the sins of others.

Lament has a very valid place in worship, and we would do well to factor it in to our Sunday times, and indeed in to our daily quiet times. The psalms of lament are a wonderful trove and expression of prayer in response to suffering. That’s why there are provided for us. They teach us to pray; they enable us to give voice to our difficulties before the Lord. That’s one reason why the Benedictines use them extensively in the daily office. It is the “work of God” as St Benedict put it. The monks and nuns are praying for the world; they are lamenting its situation and bringing it before God.

So, suppose we have an altar call where any of us can approach the Lord’s table and lament for some situation or someone? Suppose we cry out and raise our hands and voices? Or throw dust in the air? What do you think Ash Wednesday is about when we are marked with the sign of a cross in ash on our foreheads? Or will it be an uncomfortable moment where we just want to say a quiet prayer and leave it at that?

We need to see God’s faithfulness afresh, but we won’t if we bottle up our hurts, anguish and concerns, or pretend they don’t exist. They do. We need to lay our inner trials and concerns for others before the one who can change both them and us. And in doing so, we will be taken into a deeper, growing trust in God.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Just one other point before I finish. Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem is not only sorrow for the lost people of Israel, it’s also a prophetic cry for justice. Remember, God is holy and you cannot turn away from him and expect all will be well. It doesn’t work like that. Jesus knew that all too well because he knew what closed hearts mankind has, and the house of Israel was no exception. That’s why he said look your house is desolate, and you will not see me again until you say, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.

That’s why we Christians need to engage in lament for a lost world. Its house is desolate, and it won’t see God until it says blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. And it won’t say that unless we show it what the name of the Lord is. Hence our empathic entering into the lost world for its sake, and because God is love and his heart is filled with pain, and because Jesus grieved in Gethsemane, and because he went to the cross for that lost world so that one day it will say blessed is he who comes.

Philip Starks
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The Transfiguration. Matthew 17 Luke 9 Mark 9

The Divine Encounter

Who do people say I am? Some say I’m a librarian, others say a musician. But who do you say I am? That question is best answered, not by giving a resume of what occupies my time - librarian, musician - but by relating stories of the milestones that have shaped me personally and formed me spiritually. Peter, James and John, who became the leading apostles of the early church, also had their spiritual and personal formation shaped by milestone experiences, one of which was the transfiguration of Jesus in their presence.

Now what do people say the transfiguration was? Some say it was a vision, others say an illusion. But what do you say the transfiguration was? Any serious student of the gospel accounts will recognise that Matthew, Mark and Luke have recorded a time when Christ’s divine nature was shown to Peter, James and John for what it was. The bible describes the event as a complete and thorough transformation real in space and time, not a vision or an illusion. And in Matthew’s version, a moment is recorded when Jesus had to come over and touch the three disciples during the experience to reassure them that what was happening was very real indeed. A vision or an illusion can’t come over and physically touch you.

In the course of human history, Jesus was unique; two natures in one person, a mysterious union that we can never fully understand. And since his nature in person was unique, so was his transfiguration. No other figure in human history has ever been, and will ever be, shown in real space and time to be fully human yet fully divine, accompanied by a clear audible testimony from God the Father. This is my son whom I love. With him I am well pleased. Listen to him. That’s the point the gospel writers are making in their re-telling of the story. They want their readers – and that means us today - to understand just who Jesus actually was.

How did the experience contribute to the spiritual formation of Peter, James and John? James never wrote anything about it, but Peter and John did. Here’s what Peter wrote in his second letter. We did not follow cleverly invented myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus, but we were eyewitness of his majesty. For he received honour and glory from God the Father when the voice was spoken to him by the majestic glory saying ‘This is my Son whom I love, with whom I am well pleased. We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven while were with him on the sacred mountain. And here’s what John wrote about it at the beginning of his gospel. The Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.

Both writers are emphasizing their role as eyewitnesses to the full nature of Jesus the Son of God. They were to become the leading apostles of the early church, and a primary function of their ministry was to bear eyewitness testimony to who Jesus actually was. And we might also include here St Paul’s experience of the glorious risen Jesus the Son of God on the road to Damascus. Definitely a milestone experience in Paul’s life that totally transformed him from radical persecutor of Jesus to radical evangelist and apostle, and whose primary function was also to bear eyewitness to who Jesus was, is, and always will be.

Peter, James and John spent an extraordinarily special time alone with the Son of God high on a mountain away from the madding crowd of the anxious world below. It shaped them personally because the divine encounter showed them that God is a god of self-disclosure by his own choice, and therefore is he is the god who risks.

God is a lover who seeks a response from us, his loved ones. Therefore it is necessary for God to disclose himself to us. How can a love response relationship exist unless each side is prepared to open themselves up to the other. God is open to being delighted or grieved, depending on the response he gets from us. Our love for God is fickle because we are imperfect human beings. But God’s love for us is perfect and constant; it is not occasional or depends on God’s mood. That is why we can depend on it. And we must learn to depend on it, learn to not seek our own way, learn through prayer and soaking ourselves in his word.

We have a choice; we can accept or refuse God’s love for us. And the risk God takes in disclosing himself, in offering us the opportunity for a relationship with him, is that we will choose to say no. When a person refuses God’s presence, or attempts to replace it with something else, the human condition suffers. If we do not soak ourselves in the peace of God by spending time alone in prayer and presence with him, we begin to suffer from What If disease, otherwise known as anxiety. A craving for meaning of life sets in, and we fill it with anything and everything we hope will satisfy the god shaped hole within us, but it never does. When you push God out the door of your life, the ghosts of worry climb in through the windows.

Those who inoculate themselves against God with everything else under the sun are constantly anxious for the next dose of soul satisfaction. But what if it is all taken away from you one day? What then becomes of your meaning of life? Who then do you say that you are? The answer is summed up in the words of St Paul’s sermon to the Athenians, In God we live and move and have our very being. It’s that yearning for God which cannot be satisfied outside of a relationship with him, whether people recognize it or not. 

We can’t all experience mountain top appearances, Damascus Road conversions, or hear God as an audible voice. God forms each one of us as he chooses. But it occurs to me that a common factor among all who God chooses to shape and form for purpose is their spending time alone with him. It was for Peter, James and John on that high place. It was for Jesus himself when he spent 40 days in the Judean desert entirely alone with his Father, preparing for his ministry to mankind and the extreme suffering he had to bear for our sake.

And so it is with us and the What Ifs of everyday life, the distractions, temptations and demands of the daily routine. Time alone with God is to me an essential ingredient in spiritual formation and the maturing of my relationship with him. With God I learn to look at my anxieties and What Ifs and say to them, the Lord watches over my going out and my coming in; the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.

As we move through this season of Lent, I would encourage you to reflect on what the milestones of your journey with God are, and how they have formed you in your relationship with God. Consider also the opening verse of psalm 121. If we take our eyes off the transfigured Lord on the mountain and look to other mountains, then the mundane, the ordinary and the what ifs will find us and strike us. So let us keep our eyes on the risen, glorified and transfigured Christ, and he will indeed keep watch and guard over us.

Philip Starks

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Aslan is not a tame lion. Luke 2

Christmas day

Away in a manger no crib for a bed,

The little Lord Jesus lays down his sweet head.

The stars in the bright sky look down where he lay,

The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.

Isn’t it lovely? Nice cute little baby, warm soft nativity scene, peace and quiet, takes me back to a Christmas eve in England one year. Dad came home from work and it was dark outside and snowing heavily. But inside the central heating was on, mum had dinner ready, and we kids couldn’t wait for the morrow. It was idyllic, picture postcard stuff.

Well every year we all look forward to celebrating the birth of the Christ child. The story is retold and retold in soft colours, quiet carols playing in the background, and the smell of roast dinner wafting through our houses (unless it’s a stinking hot Australian summer’s day in which case it’ll be the smell of cold chicken, salad and beer). And it’s good to celebrate the coming of our Lord; it’s right and proper for us to do so.

But it does occur to me that our traditional view of Christmas has become rather domesticated, fuelled by relentless commercialism and the festive mood of the holiday season. Now while there’s nothing wrong with the mood of a festive holiday season, I think the traditional view of Christmas has long lost sight of how it actually was 2000 years ago, and the significance of it in terms of who God is, what he has done, and how we are to respond. So I want to pick up the thought that Christmas could be less a holiday for us Christians and more a holyday. And it’s a holyday that should not be taken lightly.

On the one hand, Christmas is a time for refreshment, restoration and re-creation, but on the other hand, for me it is just as solemn an occasion as Good Friday and Easter, the other principle Christian time of observance. Why? Because without Christmas there would have been no Good Friday, and without Good Friday there could have been no Easter, and without Easter there is no hope of eternal life for any of us. So I want to suggest to you this morning another aspect of Christmas to think about. My thoughts come from two points: Psalm 97, and something Mr Tumnus said to Lucy in the Narnia stories of C.S. Lewis.

The original Christmas night and the months afterwards could not have been more difficult for the holy family with Mary heavily pregnant riding on a mule all the way from Nazareth to Bethlehem, which was a three-day journey. Now ladies, can you imagine being nearly nine months pregnant bouncing up and down on a mule along hot and dusty roads for three days? And when you finally arrive in town every where’s booked out! Plus, for the first-time mother there’s the risk of unknown complications with no medical assistance on hand, except perhaps a few helping hands from older women who may have been nearby at the time. Mary could not have had an easy time, and she would have been a tough young lady to have coped with it. The infant Jesus didn’t have an easy time either, because two years later Herod heard someone had been born to take over his kingdom, and he wasn’t about to let that go unchallenged.

On many a Christmas morning we get the story of three wise men visiting the baby with expensive gifts, but how often do we get the story of how Herod set about killing all baby boys under two years old in his attempts to get rid of the rival king because those three wise men had told him why they’d come visiting. (Not very politically astute of them to inform the Roman puppet king that you’ve come to worship his replacement). And so the holy family had to flee for their lives into Egypt, and only after Herod died was it was safe for them to return. Thus Jesus was born under difficult circumstances into a hostile world.

Now, back to where my two main points of thought have come from: Psalm 97 is the appointed psalm for Christmas morning this year. It starts off “The Lord is king! Let the earth rejoice; let the many coastlands be glad.” And rightly so, the Lord is indeed king, born to us this day. But the next four verses remind us that the baby king’s reign is not going to be a nice soft cuddly one. What does it say?

Clouds and thick darkness are all around him; righteousness and justice are the foundation of his throne.

Fire goes out before him, and consumes his adversaries on every side.

His lightnings light up the world; the earth sees and trembles.

 Why are we given this psalm on a day when traditionally we celebrate all things soft, warm, glowing and peaceful? Well I want to suggest to you that those who decided Psalm 97 be included in the readings for Christmas day are telling us that there is an untamed side to the Christmas coin. Not only was Jesus born under difficult circumstances into a hostile world, he was born to carry the toughest most extreme job ever undertaken by a human being; so extreme that only a divine human being would be up to it.

Baby Jesus didn’t stay baby Jesus. He grew up to die for sin in our place so that the world he was born into might be reconciled with God. God in Christ substituting himself to face judgement where man ought to, because man has substituted himself for God where man ought not to. That is the essence of sin. And it’s a very merciful and loving God who provided the Christ, born into our world on Christmas eve, to face for us what we could never face on our own, that is, the right and just judgment of sin. And as such, clouds and thick darkness were all around him. Righteousness and justice are indeed the foundation of his throne. Fire does go out before him, and will consume his adversaries on every side. And at the end of time when he returns to our world, his lightnings will very much light up the world and the earth see and tremble. Nothing tame about it. That’s why for the Christian, Christmas is a holyday to be taken soberly and seriously.

We’ve largely turned the night when the Christ child came into our world into Christmas for kids and the family gathering dreaming of a white Christmas; very domesticated. Now don’t get me wrong here, I’m not against involving children participating in re-enactments of the nativity, or families re-uniting at end of year festive seasons. It’s good that we teach children what happened on the original night of Christmas eve; it’s good that families renew ties at least once a year. But what I am suggesting here is that we be mindful of the temptation of actually wanting to tame the Lion of Judah through this domestication of Christmas (understand Christ is also known as the Lion of the tribe of Judah).

 My thought point for this comes from the English theologian C.S. Lewis who wrote the Narnia Chronicles with a Christian point to make. You may remember towards the end of one of the stories when Lucy, who had an idyllic relationship with Aslan, and Mr Tumnus were watching Aslan walk off across the beach. Mr Tumnus turned to Lucy and said “he’s not a tame lion”.

For those of you who don’t know the Narnia stories, Aslan is God the lion of Narnia, just as in real life God come to our world as Christ the Lion of Judah. So Lewis is telling his readers the lion of Narnia (let the reader understand Lion of Judah) is not a tame one who can be domesticated. That’s something Lucy had to learn, and so must we.

Born into a difficult and hostile world, and it’s still a difficult and hostile world, but Christ Jesus our king was born to give us hope, and that hope is our eternal life with God. It’s not hope as in, with any luck it might happen. It’s hope as in, we know we have eternal life because of Christmas eve - and Easter morning - and that eternal life is guaranteed for all who believe in the name of the Lord. Hope therefore is what we know awaits us at the end of time. That’s why Christmas is a season of hope, it’s a hope of the guarantee, not of the possible maybes.

And there’s one other point about hope: Christmas is often said to about peace on earth, goodwill to all. But those who leave their Christmas at the foot of a nativity scene usually want peace on earth on their own terms. In other words, they want a tame and inert Lion of Judah, and do not want to face up to who he really is. His righteousness and justice and peace for our world resides in himself and not in us; it is not on our terms. For if it was, our world would be eternally lost. As it is, when we do finally see the guaranteed goal of our hope, we will see righteousness and justice and peace for our world manifested in perfection, something a tame lion of Judah could never bring about.

By all means celebrate the birth of our Lord this morning in whatever way you do. Enjoy family, friends, fellowship, gift giving and receiving, food, drink and re-creation. But as the party begins to wind down and you return to your homes and your quiet times, remember both sides of the Christmas coin: Away in a manager no crib for a bed, the little Lord Jesus lays down his sweet head, hark the herald angels sing, glory to the new born king; but on the flip side, Aslan is not a tame lion.

So can I encourage you all this year to look at Christmas with a fresh perspective. For many, Christmas is a holiday, and we all need holidays and times of refreshment and restoration. But for the Christian, Christmas is also a holyday. For me, it’s becoming an opportunity for rest and re-creation almost in a sacramental sense, especially on Christmas eve. I’ve long since chucked out the Kmart tinsel and plastic tree. Instead, my home is decorated with the fragrance of real frankincense and real myrrh standing next to a cross of real gold, and I have three candles burning in glass holders for God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, the light come into the world.

Don’t leave Christmas at the foot of the crib with infant holy and lowly; Christmas leads to the foot of a sin bearing cross with saviour suffering and dying in our place. And because of that, there is no way in heaven or on earth the Lion of Judah could possibly be a tame one.

Philip Starks

Published under Creative Commons Copyright Licence

Hannah's lament. 1 Samuel 1.

Pouring out your soul to the Lord.

I’ve got a short series of videos of the Archbishop of Canterbury speaking about prayer, and in one of them he begins by saying that prayer is not polite. It is respectful and awed, but not polite. Christian prayer, he says, often expresses lament, sorrow, rage and protest. I can just imagine tens of thousands of church goers marching along Swanston Street yelling, what do we want? Prayer! When do we want it? Now!

Today’s readings from 1 Samuel, and the story of Hannah, is one example of such prayer. Let’s look at it, noting how lament and sorrow can turn in to joy and celebration. It is the story of a relationship between a woman of great faith and God; a journey of travail and grief leading to transformation. It also records Israel’s origin of kingship in that Samuel, Hannah’s son, becomes the king maker.

Children are a blessing from God, certainly the game of the day at any baptism. Celebration, families, everyone dressed up to the nines for the occasion. And why not? The arrival of children to parents has been a cause for celebration for millennia, and ancient Israel of 3500 years ago (when Hannah lived) was no exception. In those days motherhood and fatherhood were signs of prosperity and of being in favour with God. So what became of men and women who had no children? For a woman it was a disaster. Hannah endured the sorrow of childlessness in a culture that defined a woman’s significance in terms of motherhood. She was exposed to ridicule, gossip, and rejection.

Hannah’s grief at not having children was very strong, and this is reflected in the story as she weeps in bitterness of soul. Yet she doesn’t turn her distress into anger and lash out at all and sundry, not even towards Peninnah, who was her main antagonist. But what does she do? She’s found in God’s house at Shiloh bringing her sorrows to him in fervent prayer.

Now what’s notable about Hannah’s prayer is this: she doesn’t question God and ask why me? She doesn’t accuse God of being unfair. You can never accuse God of being unfair, and those who do have the temerity to assume they know the mind of God and can instruct him in each and every situation. But Hannah’s prayer is simple yet profound: remember me, and that meant asking God to act in mercy and graciousness.

It’s not bargaining with God, or reminding him of whatever, or claiming some sort of merit which she thinks she’s entitled to. No. She simply pours out her heart to God with tears in honest and open dialogue, laying out her feelings in no uncertain terms and in (respectful) rage and protest. Where are you God? Don’t you see my distress? Can’t you see my tears? It was focused, intense personal petition to the point where she uttered silent prayer – only her lips moved. A rare form of prayer indeed in those days. Even the local priest didn’t recognise what was going on. Today we might say she was on mute, but far from it was the truth.

That’s the kind of prayer that goes straight up to God’s ears. Why? Because God’s name means the one who is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. Also, God has a heart that can feel pain and the sorrow of his loved ones, and there’s more than one place in scripture that tells us so. God knows our tears and sorrows. And as any caring parent knows when their child cries out in real distress, what do they do? They’re right there at the child’s side.

Hannah turned first and only to Yahweh, the one and only God, not to the gods or gurus or the other peoples around her. Why? Because she knew that her strength and salvation lay in God alone, as it does with us today in our century. And anyone who has been through lament in prayer knows the futility of trying to prevail by one’s own strength and power. It’s human, it’s limited and it’s feeble. Why would you rely on your own hopeless puny attempts when you have direct access to God through our Lord Jesus Christ in the presence of the Holy Spirit?

When was the last time you laid bare your heart and soul and feelings before God? What was it like? What was the outcome? What’s your testimony to that? Were you open to change, new possibilities and a new disposition towards God and life?

Hannah remained faithful to God despite her circumstances, and in the end she experienced his mercy and graciousness towards her, turning her lost years and grief into a time of fulfilment and joy. And that’s what the Song of Hannah celebrates at the start of chapter two.

Now the Song of Hannah is not only her expression of profound thanks and praise to God for hearing her laments, intervening in her circumstances, and granting her request for children, it’s also a testimony to how she has changed. You see, prayer changes us. It doesn’t change God. God is who he is. That’s his name, I Am Who I Am. We can ask God to intervene in whatever our circumstances might be, lay before him whatever is troubling us, but prayer doesn’t make God see things our way so that we somehow enable that change to happen within him. What prayer does do is change us so that we see things his way. And when Hannah came out the other end of her struggle, she was a profoundly different person for the better.

Firstly of course, she was given the gift of pregnancy. It was a blessing then, and is still a blessing for parents today. The Lord Jesus had a lot of time for children and taught the value of them within the Kingdom of God, didn’t he. Let the children come to me. Do not hinder them because theirs is the kingdom, he said.

How else was Hannah changed?

Lament gives suffering the dignity of language. It won’t stay silent. It’s the language and heart of movement towards God. God’s heart towards us is soft, empathic and loving, and when ours is hard, stoic and unloving, God finds himself shut out from us. Now I’m not saying Hannah was hard and unloving, but in her distress, she could easily have become like that. The passage does say she wept in bitterness of soul.

However, by reaching out to God in such a state of anguish, Hannah experienced what it’s like to open herself up to God and become emotionally vulnerable. That is to say, it takes considerable personal courage when confronting issues to be open in a relationship that is honest and authentic, for hearts to soften, and for the stoic in us to dissolve. Real connectedness between people lies not in the mind, but in the felt experience of the heart. It’s a trust building process between partners that becomes safe within the relationship. That’s why God wants soft hearts. God is patient, and he will lead us through hard yards if he has to, but the reward of a restored relationship with him in the end is second to none.

What’s another point of change that happened to Hannah?

We Anglicans have this line in our prayer book, “the peace of God which passes all understanding, keep you hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God”. The Song of Hannah celebrates Hannah’s move from hopelessness to renewed confidence. She said this, there is no one holy like the Lord; there is no one beside you; there is no rock like our God. And a few verses later, he raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap.

Seems to me that Hannah experienced a deep peace within herself that transformed her circumstances, and it’s not a peace that the world can give, but one that can only come when you give yourself to God with all heart, mind, soul and strength, and allow him to accompany you in your times of distress. And the thing about this God given peace is that times of distress will not overwhelm you. Not at all; they won’t defeat you. How can they when you have a God who is a sure solid rock.

Let me give you a quick illustration. When I was much younger and visited the beach more often than I do now, I would wade out in the sea, stand still and note how the wave action sucked away the sand under my feet until I fell over. Then I stood on a submerged rock, stood still and the wave action couldn’t shift me. Hannah’s worldview around her was like the sand always undermining her. But when she found peace with God, she stood on the rock, as it were, and she was no longer assailed by the culture and worldview of her day.

So, ladies and gentlemen, to sum up: there are valuable lessons to be learned from Hannah’s experience. Children are a gift from God to be thankful for and to praise him for. They are of great value in his kingdom. Also of great value in God’s kingdom is the softening of the human heart towards him, and that softening is learned through the tears of lament and sorrow, rage and protest. And that is why we Christians can give thanks in all circumstances, be they happy times or sad, joyous times or sorrow, anxious times or peace filled.

There is a time and a season for everything: a time for happiness and a time for sadness; a time for joy and a time for sorrow; a time of anxiety and a time for peace. And God will bring all things under his watchful eye as he cares for us. But he’ll do it his way.

Philip Starks

Published under Creative Commons Copyright Licence