St. Stephens Blog

It is an interesting story, this one concerning Naaman. Naaman was, apparently, a mighty warrior of the Aramean army. It would appear he had no weaknesses except one, he suffered from leprosy.

It was a humble Israelite servant girl, who isn’t even given a name, the handmaid of Naaman’s wife, who had been captured by Naaman on one of his raids upon Israel, tells her mistress that there is a prophet in Samaria who could heal her husband of his leprosy.

So Naaman’s wife, apparently passes the message onto Naaman who promptly goes to his king, who then sends him, not to the prophet, but to the king of Israel. Naaman is given a letter to take with him to the king and he takes with him 10 talents of silver, 6 thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments – presumably as gifts.

When Naaman arrives before the king of Israel he gives him the letter from his king, which reads, “When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his leprosy.” The king of Israel’s response is probably not what Naaman was expecting. The king of Israel interprets the letter of the king of Aram as negative, “he is trying to pick a quarrel with me,” and he tears his clothes.

The prophet Elisha hears of what has taken place and he sends to the king of Israel to ask why he is so offended, “Why have you torn your clothes?” Elisha requests the king to send Naaman to him, so that he may know that there is a prophet in Israel.

So Naaman travels to Elisha’s house in all his pomp and status. But Elisha does not even go to meet him or see him. He sends a messenger down to tell him to “go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh will be restored and you shall be clean.”

Naaman wanted some kind of magic, or an incantation, or a calling down of God. So he was angry. He had come all this way, with his gifts, I presume, he hadn’t even seen the prophet, and all he got was a message to go jump in a scummy little river, not just once, but seven times. The rivers at home were better than this little polluted creek.

It was Naaman’s servants who approached him. “If you had been told to do something difficult you would have done it. Why won’t you do what is simple, go and wash and be clean.” So he did and he was restored to health.

It is unfortunate that the reading today does not include the outcome of these events. For in his cured state, Naaman returns to Elisha and confesses, even in a limited understanding, that “there is no God in all the earth except in Israel”. And on Elisha’s refusal to accept his gifts, he asks for two mule-loads of earth, so he can worship the God of Israel back home in Aram.

The story of Naaman is, I think, a story of proud hearts getting in the way of what God wants. The proud heart of Naaman stands in contrast to the humble heart of the captive handmaid of his wife. This nameless servant does not let any resentment of her captivity get in the way of a foreigner receiving healing. She believes it can be done and she recommends the course of action.

We have, I think, much to learn from the servant girl in this story. All too often we are too proud, think too little of ourselves, are too full of resentment regarding choices made or other people, that we miss out on how God can use us and how we can be of service to God.

Naaman’s proud heart gets in the way of him being able to receive. Firstly, he expects something big to happen. We, too, can be proud in this way; we look for amazing, big miracles, and miss the miraculous in the ordinary. And if something big did happen, we would probably poo-poo it, anyway. Secondly, his pride is revealed in the gifts he takes with him, to pay for the services he receives. But this gift of healing comes not out of what somebody else does for him, but his willingness to be humble and obedient.

And the king of Israel stands as proud, in this story. Albeit, his enemy, comes to him with a request for assistance, and his pride takes it as some form of affront. His pride does not accept that he could be of service to God, offended at the idea that he is expected to have the power of God in him.

Even Elisha smacks of pride. He calls for Naaman to come to him, not so that he might know the power of God, but for his own self-glorification; that Naaman may see that there is prophet in Israel. And when Naaman does come, Elisha does not even favour him with his presence, but sends a servant to speak with him.

Both pride and false humility are obstacles for work of God. The hero of the story is, I think, the captive Israelite slave, who, was not too proud to speak up, to act, despite her lowly position, and believed that even she could be of service to God. We ought to be encouraged by this story to learn that we, even we, are ministers of God. I wonder if our pride or our false humility might be getting in the way.

There are two ways that we can approach the Holy Trinity. We can, as has often been done, try and explain the how of a God in three Persons, understanding that persons of course does not mean three distinct people, nor is God somehow suffering from some kind of multi-personality disorder.

This was attemoted by Athanasius in his confession of the Christian faith we call The Creed of Saint Athanasius.

Read Creed of Athanasius or at least begin to.

Now you get it. That all makes perfect sense doesn’t it. If Athanasius can’t make it make sense, what hope have we got.

But this is to miss the point. Fundamentally, ‘how?’ is not the correct question. All too often we modern thinkers fall into the trap of asking post-enlightenment, post-modernity questions of how. We approach the Bible in the same way; asking how God created the heavens and the earth and all that is within them. ‘How?’ is not a question of writers of the Bible or those who proclaim the faith. The questions we want to be asking are ‘Why?’ questions. Why did this happen? Why was this event understood in this way by those who witnessed it? Why am I being told this story?

Athanasius is quite correct though, Christian faith must involve an understanding of one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity, concluding with ‘which except a man believeth faithfully, he [sic] cannot be saved.’

There are, two essentials that define Christian faith, according to Athanasius, and I agree with him. Essential number one: God is Trinity. Essential number two: the Incarnation of God in the person of Jesus who has become known as the Christ. If anyone or any group claims to be a Christian these two essentials are the defining tests. Whether they call themselves Christian or not, they are not of the Christian faith if they cannot hold to these two basic tenets.

If this aspect of the one God as Trinity is so important to us, it is not that we are able to explain it or understand it that becomes important, it is what does it mean for our life as Christians.

The Godhead is a relationship of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit in perfect community. The Godhead is relational and, although the Trinity is relationally fulfilled in itself, the relational nature desires to open its community to the other, it desires to relate, the Trinity creates the cosmos including humans in order to have something outside of itself to relate to because the Trinity is relational. And the Trinity does this in an extraordinary way. It takes upon itself the stuff of its creation in the incarnational event. The incarnation of God in Jesus is the ultimate in the expression of the relational nature of the Holy Trinity.

That the church is in decline, suggests that it has forgotten this aspect of its image and likeness in its creation. It has forgotten to be relational. It has forgotten to be incarnational. It has forgotten to relate to the world. I suspect this may have something to do with the fear of not being able to explain what it is that we believe about God. Fair enough, in this ‘How?’ world in which we live. But the point is not that we should explain it, but that we should express it and live it.

A Church that is living its faith in a God that is Trinity is a Church that is in the mission of building relationships. We have said it time and time again, our faith is a relational faith. It is not about rules and morality, it is about relationship with the living, risen, ascended Christ. If we are not nurturing our relationship with God we are letting the Father down. If we are not building relationships with one another we are letting Christ down. If we are not nurturing relationships with those who are the lost we are letting the Holy Spirit down.

God as one in Trinity is not to be explained; it is to be lived for it is our identity and it is our purpose.

Last week I introduced the idea that in order for people to be able to respond to Jesus for who he is, they need to find a place amongst those who are Jesus’ sheep; that is, they need to hang out with people who are hanging out with Jesus and hang out with Jesus themselves. So we heard Jesus say to those Jews who gathered around him in the Temple, in response to the question to state publicly that he was the Messiah, “I have told you, but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep.”

Today, from the book of Acts, we hear the account of Peter’s explanation to the leaders of the Church in Jerusalem why he went to the home of Cornelius, a Roman soldier. Cornelius and his family were converts to Judaism, known as devout and God-fearing, and gave generously to those in need and prayed to God regularly. (Acts 10:1-2) But even so, the believers in Jesus considered themselves a sect of Judaism, therefore Cornelius was still considered a Gentile with whom Jews could not associate. Besides, hadn’t Jesus told his disciples, at one stage, to go to no one but the lost sheep of Israel?

When Peter goes to Jerusalem, the leaders in the church criticised him, asking, “Why did you go to uncircumcised men and eat with them?” Peter tells his story of his triplicate vision and ‘the voice from heaven, “What God has made clean, you must not call profane,” of the arrival of the servants of Cornelius, that six fellow believers had accompanied hi from Joppa to Caesarea, and Cornelius’ vision of an Angel telling him that “[Peter] will give you a message by which you and your entire household will be saved.” So Peter went, because he believed that was what the Holy Spirit was telling him to do.

Peter explains that while he was telling Cornelius about Jesus Christ, his baptism by John, the work and ministry of Jesus, his crucifixion and resurrection for the forgiveness of sins, “the Holy Spirit fell upon them just as it had upon us at the beginning.”

When this happened, Peter recalls, “I remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said, ‘John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.’ If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?”

We ourselves would recall, as was important for Peter to include in his account to Cornelius, when Jesus was baptised, ‘the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”’ (Luke 3:21-22) The Holy Spirit does not appear again at Jesus’ transfiguration, when similar words to these are spoken, because Jesus has already been confirmed in his belonging to God at his baptism by the Holy Spirit.

The presence of the Holy Spirit is, therefore, fundamental to our understanding of belonging to Jesus, for ‘Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him,’ (Romans 8.9) and ‘it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God,’ (Romans 8.16) and ‘In him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit.’ (Ephesians 1.13)

There is, then a clear difference between belonging to the church, being one of Jesus sheep, and belonging to Jesus. It seems clear that Cornelius was one of those who belonged to Jesus’ sheep – he was open to God in prayer and responding to how he understood God to be, in generously meeting the needs of others. His belonging to Jesus became marked in the receiving of the Holy Spirit and they began speaking in tongues and praising God. (Acts 10:46)

This was enough for the leaders of the Church in Jerusalem, who were silenced in their criticism, ‘And they praised God, saying, “Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life.”’ Through Cornelius it was realised that Gentiles could also share in the fullness of belonging to Jesus, not just being God-fearers. God had challenged and transformed the values of the developing early church.

There are, then two forms of belong that are related to two works of belonging. The first is our work, our choosing to belong to the church, belonging to Jesus’ sheep, hanging out with Jesus and hanging out with others who are hanging out with Jesus. But we are not saved by our work, we are dependent upon God. God’s work in our belonging, is the gift of the Holy Spirit, it is the Spirit that enables us to belong to Jesus and participate in the Divine Godhead, ‘For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God.’ (Romans 8.14)

There is then, two aspects o our mission. One is enabling others to find a sense of belonging in our being church, to hang out with Jesus amongst those who are hanging out with Jesus, for the purpose of enabling them to find a sense of belonging to Jesus by his Spirit.

One of the things that give us a sense of belonging is our common values, those things that are important to us, those ideals that inform our priorities and choices. I have come to realise, in my study of how congregations operate, that some values, which may create a very strong sense of belonging for those who are a part of a parish and congregation, can mean that others feel excluded and unable to belong.

In our review of our mission action plan of 2007 we explored those things that we valued about St Stephens, the top 10 in order of importance were:
Loving People
Family
Godly Leadership
Biblical Teaching
Encouraging Others
Prayer
Forgiveness
Seeking God’s Will
Relationship with God
Evangelism
All these values are good, but it seems to me that, if we are going to ‘Grow a Christian Community for All’ there is something wrong with the priority of these values. Your Vestry simply identified and prioritised what they believed to be the values of St Stephens without looking critically at them. Relationship with God and Evangelism, for example, need to have a higher priority.

For the purpose, therefore, of creating a church with priorities to fulfil our vision, rather than hang on to the things we value, which are clearly not enabling us to fulfil the vision, we need to be creating values that will transform us as a church. If we are to be a church that is enabling people to have a sense of belonging amongst us, so that they can find belonging to Jesus, then we need to put in place values that will speak to that desire and motivate the strategies to fulfil this desire.

For this reason, as a part of our ongoing work reviewing our Mission Action Plan and its presentation, I will be asking Vestry to explore values that we need to have in order that we can fulfil our vision and mission. I know that some of these values will be different to the things that you value and this will create some tension amongst us, but, as the reading this morning shows us, God did not leave the early church in the values they had, but created in them new values to inspire their mission – and aren’t we grateful, because if God had not done so, we would not be sharing in the wonder of Jesus’ salvation of us.

For those of you who have not seen the film Avatar, I commend it to you. Even if you believe you do not like science fiction films, I still recommend it to you. Sandy is not a science fiction fancier – she won’t even sit with me and watch Star Wars, which I think verges on an act of heresy on her part, but Sandy was, for some reason, keen to see Avatar and I was even keener to go with her. We have a choice of viewing the film in 2D or 3D. As a testimony to Sandy’s enjoyment of Avatar, despite her lack of interest in Science fiction films, she enjoyed the 2D version significantly to be enthusiastic about going to see it again in 3D which of course we have done.

The science fiction part of the film is not easy to explain, except that it is set on the planet Pandora, which is inhabited by a tall, blue skinned, humanoid race, with their own language and culture, called the Na’vi. As a part of a study of the culture of the Na’vi, and a means for a mining corporation doing their capitalism, scientists have developed a genetic means of creating a Na’vi identity that is controlled by humans called and Avatar.

One Avatar controller Jake Sulley, infiltrates the Na’vi and, in the process, falls in love with the beautiful Na’vi, Neytiri, and Jake enters into a fight to save Pandora from the ruthless, capitalist, mining company.

In the process of the movie we are made aware of the depth of the pagan spirituality, culture and language of the Na’vi. In particular is the Na’vi greeting, “I see you.” It is explained to Jake by his Avatar driver colleague that this means more than, “I am looking at you,” but carries the sense that, “I see you for who you really are.”

A part of the conclusion to the movie is a scene where the Na’vi, Neytiri, sees Jake as the human he is, rather than as the Avatar which he drives. Jake says to Neytiri, “I see you,” to which Neytiri replies, in great acceptance despite his being a part of the humans that are destroying her planet. “I see you.”

This is the problem for Saul when he is confronted, on the way to Damascus, by the sudden light that caused him to fall from his horse. When the voice of the light says, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Saul responds, “Who are you, Lord?”

Saul does not see. He knows about Jesus, but he does not know Jesus, he does not really know who he really is. Jesus is simply a threat to Saul’s religion.

Compare this to the disciples who have gone fishing one night and have caught nothing. Jesus, although unrecognised by the disciples, is standing on the beach and gives them instructions to cast the net on the right side of the boat. Of course, when they do this, they catch 153 large fish. The disciple whom Jesus loved, probably John who is credited with writing this gospel, says to Peter, “It is the Lord!” There is no hesitation, Peter knows it also, dressing, he dives into the water and swims to Jesus on the shore, the other disciples follow in the boat dragging the full net.

When they get to shore, Jesus is already there with a fire, cooking some fish, and some bread. He invites them to breakfast. John writes, ‘Now none of the disciples dared ask him, “Who are you?” because they knew it was the Lord.’

There then follows an interaction between Peter and Jesus that seems to me to be reversing the Peter’s three-time betrayal before Jesus was crucified. But it is telling that Peter feels hurt because Jesus asks him three times, “Do you love me?” “Lord,” he replies, “you know everything; you know that I love you.”

Peter and the other disciples do recognise Jesus, the same but different through the resurrection. They see Jesus, and Jesus sees them.

The problem with Saul was that he did not see Jesus. He knew about him, he knew information concerning him, he may have even visibly seen him, but he did not know him, he did not see him.

We often speak about this part of Saul’s life as being a conversion. I the strictest sense, Saul does not change gods. However, Saul does make a leap in understanding about the person of Jesus in the God he belongs to. I can’t help wondering whether Saul is acting out of religious motives rather than faith motives here. We know he speaks of himself as once being zealous to the law. Now, clearly, this interaction with the risen Jesus, on the way to Damascus has brought him into knowledge of Jesus, ot just knowledge about him. Saul sees Jesus.

With the aid of a reluctant and fearful Ananias, through prayer, the Holy Spirit gives him understanding. Saul becomes Paul. The physical restoration of his sight, as something like scales fell from his eyes, is a metaphor that he sees Jesus. Paul, now no longer persecuting Jesus through his disciples, is baptised and goes out proclaiming that Jesus is the Son of God.

I am reminded of the parable of the talents (Matthew 25). The rich man leaves his three stewards a gift: one five talents, one two talents, and the last, one talent. Then he goes away. On his return he calls his stewards to give an account of how they have used a gift. The first two, five and two talent recipients, have doubled their money because they understood that they had been trusted with it. The third, the one talent recipient, simply returns what he had been given having buried it. The reason, he says, is because “he knew his master to be a hard man, reaping where he did not sow…” This parable seems to be indicating that our actions, with the gifts we have been given, will be determined by how we understand God to be.

I often hear stories about the members of certain churches, including our own, being full of people who lack commitment. I don’t think that is purely case. I think, the reason that people do not act and respond is because they do not, have not, yet come to understand the nature of God. They may know about God and they may know stuff about God and they may know the practices of their religion and tradition, but they do not know God.

The death of Jesus on the cross and his resurrection, speak to me about the extravagant generosity of God to us. When we get the enormity of what God has done, what God has surrendered, what God has given, because of and for us, then that will change the way we act and respond in the world towards God. Then we will be able to say to Jesus, “I see you,” as he says to us, “I see you.”

Revelation 7:9-17

I don’t think that I am an angry person. By this, I don’t mean that I don’t get angry; I do. Much to the frustration of my wife, I tend to begin by becoming quiet, withdrawn. Then, when I have worked out what it is that I am feeling, I like to think that I am emotionally intelligent, I may speak about my anger and what is making me angry.

Very few people have felt the brunt of my anger in full voice. I don’t know whether this means they should feel privileged that I trusted them with my anger, or probably more correctly, I have been feeling absolute exasperation with them because I have not been allowed to be angry, nor heard in my anger.

Yelling, screaming, arguing is, in itself, not anger. It is either a poor expression or recognition of our anger or it is the result of our feeling that we have not been heard concerning the issue that is causing us to feel angry. Yelling, screaming, arguing is a symptom of unresolved anger, not anger in itself.

I feel that I am angry about a lot of things lately.

Just yesterday, I was driving my wife to her shift at the hospital. We were travelling towards the city down High Street and the car in front of me wanted to turn right into Belmont Shopping Centre. They correctly indicated to turn right, moved over into the right turn slip lane, and as I was about to pass down their left, swerved left into the lane I was travelling in, in order to make their right turn. So I blasted them with my horn. That, in itself, is pretty outspoken for me. But as I passed and looked back in the rear vision mirror, the passenger in the vehicle was making the finger gesture at me, mouthing interesting words. To my shame, and here I confess before you and God, I returned the bird with my own expletive, heard only by Sandy. My wife’s response was, ‘You should see someone.’

I seem to be angry about a lot of things lately. Most of them unexpressed and no one to express them to that will make any release to my anger.

I feel angry about global warming, being concerned about the amount of electricity I use, thinking about each time I get into my car, each time I fill it with petrol. And then, in the wee hours of the morning, I hear some hoon, somewhere in Belmont, doing donuts around a roundabout or an intersections – burning both rubber in their tires and excessive fuel.

I feel angry, in the first place, that I am regularly awake in the wee hours of the morning to hear the hoon screaming around some roundabout, or youth having shopping trolley races down the street, or drunks having arguments outside the vicarage on the way home from the pub.

I feel angry about the drought. Worrying about how much water I am using, collecting buckets of water and carrying them out to the garden. Even when it is raining, I worry about not collecting water in the buckets, letting it go down the plughole.

I get angry in the supermarket, when the shop assistant packs my shopping into the grocery bags that I have taken to the supermarket. I take the food out of the trolley and place it on the conveyor belt so that cold things go with cold things, vegetables and fruit are together, soft things together, and bottles together. And yet they still pack stuff so that heavy stuff is on top of my tomatoes, and my mushrooms are not the same shape as they were when I put them in the bag, and the bread is no longer a square loaf.

I got angry when I took my empty shopping cart to the drop off point to find that people had not even bothered to push the carts together, and one of the carts was protruding sideways, out of the (whatever its called) to obstruct the parking bay beside it. I get angry when people cannot be bothered to take their shopping trolley to one of the bays at all and leave it to obstruct a car park, or be raced around the streets in the wee hours of the morning by some wayward youth.

I am angry that our puppy has developed this habit of sneaking off into our bedroom, taking the box of tissues off the bedside table, and gently pulling out tissues one by one. It is not that she is pulling the tissues out – that is kind of clever and even cute – it’s that I have lost trust in her and have to close up the bedroom to protect my things from her inquisitive cleverness. I am angry that it is, somehow, my dog that is determining how I behave in my home.

Not only do I feel angry, I feel guilty. I feel guilty that year by year I stand up here during Stewardship Month encouraging you to think about your giving, knowing that, based on current giving, 65% of that giving goes to employ me.

I feel guilty that I am not doing all the things that clergy have done in the past, knowing that if I do those things I will not have time to do the things that need to be done to enable the church to grow.

And I feel angry that I should be feeling guilty at all – except for the rude gesture in the car yesterday – I should feel guilty about that.

I feel angry about so many things in our society, because they are not what they potentially could be. Like that old movie, Network, I think it was called, people leaning out their windows yelling ‘I have had enough and I won’t take it anymore’, or words to that effect. I am angry, because the world I live in is not like the world as I think it needs to be. I feel like an alien in strange land, not belonging.

I feel angry because I believe it could be, and should be, different to what it is. I feel guilty that I have trivialised the things that I ought to feel angry about and I feel guilty, because I know, in hoping for the world to be as it should and could be, I am a contributing factor to its failure to reach that state of being.

I wonder of John of Patmos felt the same anger as he witnessed his vision, and wrote it down, of something hoped for and was not yet a reality. That the very thing he was hoping for was the cause of his exile. He became an alien because he saw another way. We get a glimpse of that vision in our reading from the book of Revelation today. A picture of what heaven, or more accurately, the kingdom of God, is like.

These are the disciples for Jesus, like the disciples of Palm Sunday, entering behind Jesus into Jerusalem, waving their palm branches declaring, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” (Luke 19:38; NRSV) Here are the resurrected ones, robed in white, with palm branches, this time crying out, “Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!” (Revelation 7:10; NRSV) And a glimpse of the kingdom of God in the promise, “They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the centre of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” (Revelation 7:16-17; NRSV)

My anger, unspoken and unexpressed, and also when I feel that someone has finally heard and responded to it, sometimes drives me to tears. The promise of Jesus and Revelation is there can be another reality other than the one we presently live in. That other reality is the Kingdom of God and the present kingdom, the world, is often out of kilter with God’s kingdom.

As Christians, we should naturally, intuitively, feel angry when our experience in this world does not match the reality of the kingdom of God. We ought to continue to listen to that anger, helpfully express that anger and creatively develop activities, programmes and lifestyle changes that enable God’s kingdom to become realised. Working toward that day when we will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike us, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the centre of the throne will be our shepherd, and he will guide us to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from our eyes.

It is common that I hear people saying that biblical interpretation is purely about individual interpretation.  One person believes that scripture says this and another person believes that the same passage of scripture says something else.

On one hand, I have some agreement with this approach to scriptural interpretation, because I think that the written words are only the carrier of the word of God. 

Before I go on, let me explain this to you.  I find it really irritating when I hear scripture spoken of as the word of God.  Firstly, the Word of God is what God has spoken, incarnate in the person of Jesus Christ.  The second person of the Trinity is the Word of God.  Secondly, if scripture is the word of God, I find this a terrible limitation on what God want to say to us.  The word of God is what God speaks and scripture, therefore, is a carrier of the word f God but is not, in itself the word of God.

So, scripture is the carrier of the word of God.  Therefore, in our personal reading and studying of scripture, we can hear what God is saying to us in the context of our life, what is going on in our life, our struggles, our celebrations, and our choices that may be life changing.  In this sense, scripture is not dead, like the Latin language, it is a living thing. 

Having said that, however, what I hear God saying to me as an individual may need to be tested to make sure it is God speaking and no just me, or even worse, the Deceiver.  Secondly, what I hear God saying to me as an individual may not necessarily what God is saying to everyone.  It may be that I have heard completely wrongly.

There is a story about a man who was having difficulty in his life and he wanted to find a solution to it.  He turned to the bible to see what it is that God may have to say to his situation.  He opened the bible and began reading, the story of Judas committing suicide after his betrayal of Jesus.  Naturally, he thought that this was purely a coincidence, so he closed the bible and opened it again, to read, “Go and do likewise.”  I would want to test my interpretation of scripture.

But this is not the only account of times I hear when people get it wrong.  I have often listened to sermons and discussion where scripture has been used to make an argument, but because it has been taken out of context, it has been interpreted.  Of particular note, the passage from Ephesians concerning women submitting to their husbands, but failing to read about the demands of husbands to love their wives.

And so often I find myself asking, and hear others saying the same thing, is this just me, is this just my interpretation of scripture, of the events, of the word of God?

It is with this question in mind that I hear the passage from Peter’s second letter to the church this morning, “We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain. So we have the prophetic message more fully confirmed. You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts. First of all you must understand this, that no prophecy of scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation, because no prophecy ever came by human will, but men and women moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God. (1:18-21)

The first thing that we notice about this reading is its plurality.  We ourselves have heard… so we have the prophetic message.  The hearing of the message, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased,” is not dependent upon a lone listener, but all those who were on the mountain with Peter, James and John, when Jesus was transfigured.  the account then has stronger validity, it is “more fully confirmed” more authenticate because it has been witnessed and heard by more than one person.

In my first curacy there were many people who were rather charismatic and assertive in their belief concerning things God had said to them.  When they felt that God was telling them something about the leadership of the Church, which was in contradiction to the vision and direction, my Rector used to respond, “That’s funny, God has not told me that.”   

Yes, we can feel more certain that what we have read and consequently heard is from God, but it is not until someone else says, “I interpret it the same way, or I heard, I felt, I saw the same thing!” that we feel confident in what we have heard.

Listen to what Peter says in verse 20 and 21, “no prophecy of scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation, because no prophecy ever came by human will, but men and women moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God.”  No prophecy of scripture is a matter of an individual’s interpretation.  It is not to be done alone, but with others.  We are told that this is because the prophecy of scripture is not of human origin; it is of the Holy Spirit that speaks to men and women in the plural.  Scripture, and its interpretation, is not a matter of an individual’s interpretation, but is done in the context of, and with, others, that is, the church.

This understanding of the interpretation of scripture in the context of a group, not on our own, should stir us into a response, “You will do well to be attentive to this,” writes Peter, “as to a lamp shining in a dark place.”

I have always been a little afraid of the dark.  As a kid, I would run from the bedroom light switch on the wall near the door, to my bed after turning off the light.  Even when I was older and had to go up to tend the farrowing sows, at night, having finished my tending, I would run back to the house.  I still find empty, dark churches rather creepy at night, particularly those old ones.  I don’t know where this had its origins, but I can imagine, if I was in a strange place, in the dark, one of the most important things would have to be my source of light. 

This is what Peter means, I think, as he says, “You will do well to be attentive to this, as to a lamp shining in a dark place.”  The lamp he is talking about, f course, would be an oil lamp.  To be attentive would involve topping up the oil and trimming the wick so as not to go out, lest we find ourselves plunged into darkness.  You might find yourselves drawn to the parable of the 10 bridesmaids, 5 wise ones tended their lamps, 5 foolish ones did not, and found themselves locked out in the dark.

So, Peter is saying, like tending a lamp, we must tend our reading of scripture, we must tend our interpretation of scripture.  We must test what we believe it is to be sating with others.

I think this is one of the reasons that God gave us the gift of Church and Christ called us into it.  We were never meant to do it, grow in our knowledge and love of God, alone; it was always meant to be in the context of others.  Coming to church, being a part of the church services does not make us a Christian.  We do not even have to go to church if we are a Christian.  But we do need to be a part of the church in order that we can discern with others the prophetic message of scripture and be more assured of its truth.

This is what is meant by the old catholic saying, “outside the church there is no salvation.” Its not that we are saved by our attendance at church, going to church does not, in itself, make us right with God.  However, without being attentive to our reading of Scripture, without being attentive to our faith, with others, we are putting our salvation at risk.

The words of The Prayers of the BCP read, “grant that all who confess your holy name may agree in the truth of your holy word, and live in unity and godly love.”  I don’t believe that this means that we will should simply agree on the interpretation of scripture, but that we will find agreement as we do that work of interpretation together, not individually.

Can I encourage you, because the preaching at worship services is a particularly one way street, and believe me I am no position stand above contradiction, I am happy if you want to have conversation with me about what I have said and you have heard,  to consider being a part of our house group ministry.  The importance of our house groups is to enable us to be in an environment where we can discern the prophetic message of scripture with others and not on our own.

I was amused, during the prerecording of an interview of me by Guryel at Rhema Christian Radio, that I as referred to as the Senior Minister of St Stephens Anglican Church in Belmont.  This was amusing because, compared to the usage of this phrase, St Stephens is a lone ministry, it is hard to be a Senior Minister when there are no ‘junior’ or ’subordinate’ ministers.  I was tempted during the process of preparing for the interview to correct Guryel, but I found myself liking the description.  Except for the ‘corporate church’ implications of Senior Minister, and perhaps there is a better phrase that could be used, the reality of the Church is that all members are meant to be ministers.  IN this sense, then, I could be described as the Senior Minister.  So, I live with it.  I would love to hear from you if you have a suggestion of a title for ordained ministry that does not sound like corporate jargon and affirms that every member of the Church is a minister.