Sunday, January 10, 2021

What for?

 

A Sermon preached on Epiphany I January 10, 2021 at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden

Genesis 1:1-5, Acts 19:1-7, Mark 1:4-11

If you are having a sense of déjà vu after hearing today’s Gospel, that is only to be expected as you heard some of this reading about John the baptizer almost exactly a month ago, on the 2nd Sunday in Advent. And you would be forgiven for thinking that you had been caught up in a temporal anomaly – to use Star Trek language – or in “a big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey wimeystuff" – to quote Dr. Who, as our chronology is currently all mixed up: Christ’s birth was followed only 3 days later by the murder of the Holy Innocents, after another 4 days by the feast of the Holy Name, recalling his public naming and circumcision. But then we had the flight to Egypt, followed by the appearance of the three Magi (who were the reason for the flight), and now today we have fast forwarded to Jesus’ Baptism at age 30 …. what is going on?

It has to do with how we read scripture. During the special seasons: Advent, Christmas/Epiphany, Lent, and Easter, we focus on special events and on passages that help explain and understand the message of that particular season. During what we call Ordinary Time, which this year is only two Sundays in February, and then the long period after Trinity Sunday until Christ the King, Gospel extracts will tend to follow the events as the Evangelist Mark wrote them down. The big theme of Epiphany, meaning revelation, appearance, or manifestation, is just that: revealing who Jesus is, manifesting his divinity, grasping his mission, and disclosing his power. In his Epiphany message, Bishop Mark wrote that Epiphany is the moment when Jesus is both manifested and recognized as the fulfilment of God’s promise to come and live among us.

To make very clear that the “us” in that promise is inclusive, the story of how Jesus is revealed to the gentiles, as represented by the pagan magi, is followed by the account of the revelation to the people of Israel of Jesus’ intimate relationship with God, as represented by the “people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem” who witnessed his baptism. And over the next weeks we will hear more about how Jesus reveals his mission to the disciples, as he calls them to follow him, and how his power is revealed in acts of loving healing before this season finishes with the Transfiguration, a final confirmation of Jesus’ divine nature and calling before his Passion. Then, on that mountain top, we will hear a voice from the cloud say, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” (Mark 9:7) echoing the words we heard the voice from heaven saying today, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:11)

But apart from the chronology, our 30-year time jump, Jesus’ Baptism by John presents us with another problem, why? “John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness,” we heard, “proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” (Mark 1:4) But surely Jesus does not need to be baptised, he is sinless, we are taught, and therefore in no need of either repentance or forgiveness. On the contrary, he constantly dispenses the latter!

The Evangelist John is so embarrassed by this that he carefully does not directly refer to Jesus actually being baptised in his account of the event. And Matthew has John trying to prevent him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” (Matthew 3:14) But Mark has no time for that, Mark does not interpret much – he reports: “In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan.” (Mark 1:9)

In his commentary on Mark’s Gospel, the Scottish theologian and Bible commentator William Barclay writes that for Jesus, his baptism was indeed not about repentance or forgiveness, but about decision, identification, approval, and equipment. 

Except for a childhood appearance in the Temple, we hear nothing about how Jesus grew up – especially not in Mark’s Gospel that begins with the Baptism! As God came into the world as a human baby, he had to grow up first, be trained, experience life and then – according to Barclay – “Jesus knew when John emerged that the moment of decision had come. Nazareth was peaceful and home was sweet, but he answered the summons and challenge of God.”[1] If you were baptised as children, your parents took that first decision for you. But the fact that you are here today, or watching today, shows that you too have decided to answer the summons and challenge of God. Quoting our bishop again, which is always a good thing to do: “Epiphany is that moment in the annual cycle of enacting our faith that calls us forth to meet the world. It is our inherently evangelical feast; we are the ones now called on to manifest God’s purposes on earth, so that others will see, and come to, the light.” That is the Epiphany summons and challenge - to manifest God’s purposes on earth – that we have all decided to accept with our baptism and active membership of the Church.

The Incarnation is also about identification, about God choosing to fully identify with and share the lives of the one God created in God’s image. Jesus did not need to repent from sin, but Jesus wanted to identify himself with this movement of people back to God again. We too are called to identify with people in vastly different conditions than our own. The poor, the persecuted, the homeless, the refugee, the sick, the lonely. We do that not for our sake, but for their sake and for the sake of the one who sends us.  We would be poor Christians if we only looked out for ourselves and our own needs, and only mixed with one another.

Barclay also calls the baptism a moment of approval: “Jesus had decided on a course of action, and now was looking for the seal of approval from God.”[2] Did Jesus need approval? How much Jesus knew about who he was and what he was called to do at the beginning of his mission is one of the big theological questions. Was the divine hidden or dormant? In his letter to the Philippians (2:6-7), Paul writes that “Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness.” And yet, as Mark’s Gospel will go on to show, the divine shines through in Jesus’ teaching and actions, and here in that voice from heaven calling him Son, Beloved, with whom God is well pleased. I don’t know if Jesus really needed approval, but we do! The good news for us is that we already know that we are God’s children, God’s beloved. That is what Jesus came to tell us, to remind us of, and to call us all to act accordingly, as we are created to be. God loves us unconditionally, let’s live up to it.

And because that is not as easy as it sounds, we need to be equipped for the task, just as Jesus receives the Spirit, described as descending like a dove on him, at his Baptism and like John’s disciples in Ephesus, in the episode described in Acts, who receive the Holy Spirit when Paul lays his hands upon them. We too are equipped at our own baptism, but also whenever we read or hear God’s word, and especially at the Eucharist when we receive the bread of heaven and the cup of salvation, whether physically or spiritually. Sharing in Christ strengthens and renews us and equips us to be as Christ in the world.

Amen.



[1] The Gospel of Mark, William Barclay (Westminster John Knox 2001), 21

[2] Ibid, 22

Sunday, January 3, 2021

Alle Jahre wieder

 

A Sermon preached on Christmas II January 3, 2021 at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden and at the Christophskirche in Mainz

Jeremiah 31:7-14, Ephesians 1:3-6,15-19a, Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23

There is a lovely German Christmas carol called “Alle Jahre wieder” or in English, every year again. 

Alle Jahre wieder kommt das Christuskind
Auf die Erde nieder, wo wir Menschen sind.
Kehrt mit seinem Segen ein in jedes Haus,
Geht auf allen Wegen mit uns ein und aus.
Steht auch mir zur Seite still und unerkannt,
Daß es treu mich leite an der lieben Hand.

Every year, the text tells us, the Christ child comes down to earth to be with us, to bless us, to accompany us, and to guide us: again and again. And every year we hear the angel say, “Do not be afraid; for see – I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”

But sadly, the episode we heard today – the flight to and return from Egypt – is also part of the Christmas story every year, as is the bit that was left out, verses 16 – 18, the slaughter of the innocent children of Bethlehem:

“When Herod realized that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi. Then what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled: “A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.”

This section is read on December 28, what we also call the Feast of the Holy Innocents.

Regrettably, it seems that not only the good of Christmas is repeated each year, but also the bad, the evil all done in what was a vain attempt to stop the good coming into the world, to stop God coming into the world. Herod saw Jesus as a threat to his power and wanted him dead, just as the Temple authorities and Romans occupying powers did 30+ years later. The first time, Jesus’ parents fled with him to Egypt to save his life – as we just heard. The last time, his mission on earth completed, Jesus resisted the temptation to flee and instead waited to be taken prisoner in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Matthew includes this episode for another reason: Egypt has a symbolic meaning for our Jewish brothers and sisters who were the first Christians. Egypt stands for refuge, the place Israel found refuge in in Joseph’s day when there was a great famine, and here the Holy Family finds refuge while Herod rules. Egypt also stands for oppression; it was the place Israel escaped from and were then led back to the promised land by Moses. Those are the connections we are supposed to make here too: Jesus stands for a new exodus from human oppression, Jesus is a new and greater Moses, Jesus is the son called "out of Egypt.”

So, this episode makes the Jewish experience of exile, living as a stranger in a strange land, part of Jesus’ identity and part of our identity as Christians too.

I’m certain most of you remember Moria, the name of the refugee camp on Lesbos that was burned down last year. But how many of you recognise the name Kara Tepe? That is the name of the new camp that was built to replace Moria. It was supposed to be better. There will be no more Morias, the EU Commissioner for Home Affairs, Ylva Johansson, said back in September: “Conditions in Moria, both before and after the fire, were unacceptable. Men, women and children living in overcrowded camps with poor sanitation and little access to health care.” I hope she meant what she said, but she – and we – did not achieve it. According to Caritas International conditions are worse than before – there is not enough food and water, there are not enough showers, and toilets. There has been severe flooding, and an infestation of rats. This is not due to incompetence and is not because we do not have enough money. As this last year has shown, we have a lot of money to spend if we really see a need, if it benefits us! No, in part this is a deliberate policy, not to do anything good, not to improve the horrific conditions so that they act has a deterrent. But as it turns out, closing borders, scrapping official sea rescue missions, preventing private initiatives, and not dealing with people’s cases in a fair, transparent, and timely manner, does not act as a deterrent. According to a recent report from the UNHCR we have more refugees than ever before, around 10 million more than 2019. Refugees are fleeing from things, not to things: from danger, from persecution, from war, from famine, from hopelessness.

What do we do? Is this just part of a pattern - Alle Jahre wieder – that can’t be avoided, and that we just have to accept, something we can really change and just need to manage? I find it ironic that in both English and German the word for someone who does good has taken on a negative connotation: Gutmensch or do gooder has become an insult, people whose actions to help others are exaggerated and whose motivation can be questioned. Instead, we try and accommodate the viewpoint of those who do not want to help at all. To use a recent example from Bosnia, we leave refugees to freeze in buses because a mob will not let them be moved to a disused army base. And we had similar cases in Germany in 2015 and 2016 and we allow Hungary and Poland and Austria to use similar tactics at a country level. This is simply wrong.

Every year it seems the Christ child is born anew into a world that is different, but which hasn’t changed. There are different problems, different plagues, different issues, different wars, the camps have different names, but at the core we are dealing with the same darkness, trouble and strife. This is wrong. Jesus came to bring light, hope, and change. Our world can be changed: it already has been changed by the birth of a child who embodies our unconditionally loving God and calls on us to follow and imitate him, to welcome Jesus into our hearts and to allow him to bless us, to accompany us, to guide us and to change us.

“Alle Jahre wieder,” every year again an ecumenical Bible initiative chooses the so-called Jahreslosung – a Bible quote and watchword. The word for 2021, which was already picked a couple of years ago, is taken from Luke 6:36: “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”

Let us make this the motto of our lives – not just today, not just this year, but again and again. be merciful, be do gooders, Gutmenschen, in the proper sense of the word – what else after all are Christians but those who bring good news and live accordingly: alle Jahre wieder.

Amen.