Sermon: 9th Sunday after Pentecost

 Sermon: 9^th Sunday after Pentecost

25 July 2021 – Archdeacon Mark Long

Ephesians 3:14-21 ; Psalm 14; and John 6:1-21; NRSV

As you may already have realised, the Gospel of Mark is this year’s Lectionary focus. The Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke alternate within our three year Lectionary cycle and they are known as the Synoptic Gospels, which is a Greek phrase meaning in essence that these three Gospels contain many of the same stories often in a similar sequence and with similar wording, although their individual focus and audiences are different. Occasionally – as we do today – we break away from the “Gospel of the Year” to spend some time with a contrasting perspective from John’s Gospel, this time a five week focus on John chapter 6. 

We launch into this diversion with one of the few stories in John’s Gospel that is also found in the other three Gospels: the feeding of the five thousand. I invite you to take a moment to bring to mind what you know about this event {silence} … a number of aspects may have come to mind … hungry crowds … a few loaves and fish … Jesus blessing these … food shared and people fed … lots left over. Now think back to the Gospel reading as you heard it read this morning … while it has probably melded in with your general awareness of the story there are some significant differences to the way it is told in comparison to the other three Gospels. In the Synoptic narratives Jesus’ compassion for the crowd is a highlight, the disciples handing out the bread and fish to the crowds, left over food being collected afterwards doubtless to be shared again with others. It’s big picture stuff, painting a broad overview of the purpose of God’s kingdom in the world. In John’s Gospel the focus is a little different, and a little more intimate and a little more specific, and focused on Jesus rather than the hungry crowd, and it’s context is in relation to the upcoming Passover celebration. The bread is not just bread, it is Barley bread; the fish are dried fish [this is lost in the English translation]; it is not the disciples that distribute the bread, it is Jesus; the edge is not just taken off the crowd’s hunger, their hunger is satisfied. The testing question Jesus asks of Philip is not an exam question with a pre-decided answer, but one that requires Philip and the other disciples and ourselves as we hear the story again today to see more than just the feeding of this crowd; it is for us to acknowledge Jesus as the Bread of Life, to recognise God in Jesus giving God’s-self to us, intimately, personally, satisfyingly. 

And just in case we missed all this, John immediately follows up with the Jesus walking on water … a wonderful insight I think into John’s sense of humour! 

In John’s Gospel the feeding of the five thousand is a sign[1], an activity not just to be celebrated for the wonder of a God who cares deeply for the physically hungry, but of a God who cares for the fullness of creation; a God who has power over the elements and an ability to multiply these as Jesus does with the Barley bread and dried fish, or to use them differently as Jesus does in walking on the water. Our humanity responds to these physical events, and – certainly speaking for myself – longs for similar power. However John also comments on the nature of this power and we need to heed his insight: this power is not used to control. Jesus uses this power to serve, and does so intimately, demonstrating the depth and wholeness of his humanity in this moment. John underlines this commitment by noting that when the crowds having had their hunger satisfied move to make him King, Jesus hot-foots it into the distance. The English translation politely says he ‘withdrew’; the Greek word would better be translated as ‘fled’! John makes it abundantly clear that Jesus’ did not seek to hold political or economic power. The reference to the upcoming Passover Festival accentuates this, a reminder that God is committed to our physical liberation from all that seeks to hold us captive in this life, and to resource us for the journey. However, the power that God exercises – an power in essence is the ability to act – is one that seeks at all times to make space for and to build wholeness in community, and where those spaces are constricted in any form, especially with the purpose of exercising power to control and even oppress others, God acts to liberate. Too often we trip over our ideas of what that liberation may look like, and miss the salvation God is offering. 

In 1994 we experienced and celebrated the political liberation of South Africa, and while we knew there was work ahead we too easily accepted the miracle of 1994 as essentially sufficient. In recent years many, and most notably those born after the birth of Democracy in South Africa, highlight for us that political liberation was never meaningfully translated into the economic and social spheres of the South African experience. The  #FeesMustFall movement speaks to the ongoing economic oppression of the poor in our country, and the #BlackLivesMatter movement speaks to the social inequalities that continue to ravage our Nation. While we are realising these issues are not endemic to Southern Africa, nonetheless we need to acknowledge the need for ongoing social and economic renewal and transformation, and awaken afresh to this being a legitimate focus for people of Faith. Whatever your interpretation of recent social unrest in KZN and Gauteng may be, we cannot deny the underlying frustration of South Africans with the present status quo. Just as Jesus’ feeding of the five thousand in John’s Gospel is a sign, so these events are one of the signs in our time; and while we like Jesus need to flee any attempt to become politically and economically aligned – and clearly we don’t control the political, economic, and social arenas – we are not without influence and agency. 

My question this morning is how do we as people of Faith apply the lessons of today’s Gospel message in our broader context? As described in all four Gospels, responding to and meeting the immediate needs of the people is unquestionably legitimate, but not sufficient. John reminds us of the importance of ensuring our action doesn’t just touch on the problem, but meets the need in such a manner that people are content. Jesus exercised his agency in this, and the structures of his day sought to limit his influence, and failed. Our lives are embraced by the same Spirit that filled Jesus, and we need to trust that while the signs of our times often appear to ask more of us than is possible, God knows what he is going to do. In response to Jesus question, while Philip saw all the difficulties, Andrew looked around to see what resources they had. Their resources were woefully lacking, but in Gods hands they proved not only fruitful, but satisfyingly so. 

We all have agency; let us offer that to God. We all have resources of some form; let us offer these to God. We often feel overwhelmed – at least I do – by our situation, be it personal or societal, and the disciples clearly felt overwhelmed by the needs of the crowds before them. Let us take heart that God acted then, and will act now. Let us trust that God supplies us with sufficient resilience to act in the present, and that no matter how limited we perceive our agency or resources to be, in God’s hands they are abundant! 

Let us pray, 

I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, [God] may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through [the] Spirit, and … that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.[2]

Amen.

---

[1] Sermon Brainwave https://www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/794-9th-sunday-after-pentecost-ord-17b-july-25-2021

[2] Ephesians 3:16, 19b

Sermon: 6th Sunday after Pentecost

 Sermon: 6^th Sunday after Pentecost

4 July 2021 – Archdeacon Mark Long

2 Corinthians 12:2-10; Psalm 48; and Mark 6:1-13; NRSV

In this season that follows on from Pentecost we are exploring what it looks like to live the Christian faith, and one of the best ways to explore is to ask questions. Any question is useful if it helps us broaden or even change our perspective, if it helps us be more open to participating in what God is up to in our world, and if it increases our willingness to be progressively welcoming and inclusive. 

In today’s Gospel narrative we find Jesus in his home town teaching in the Synagogue, and the people asking questions that steadily limit their openness to what God is up to among them in the person of Jesus, to the point where Mark reports that Jesus is amazed at their unbelief. Interestingly this lack of openness, this lack of trust, does not stop Jesus healing a few local people, but does limit the village from experiencing any act of power; they remain blinkered to the opportunity in their midst. 

Jesus clearly doesn’t hang around to persuade them differently, and Mark immediately reports that Jesus moves on to other villages in the area. This opens up an important perspective: sharing the Good News is not to be done at all costs, and specifically not if there is disinterest. This is evident in Jesus subsequent instruction to the disciples as he sends them out: they are not to waste time with those who are unwelcoming and more specifically also unwilling to hear; they are instead to shake the dust off their feet and move on. The disciples go out to call people to repentance. 

What are some of the questions we are asking at the moment; and are these questions ones that open us up to what God is doing in our time, or are they questions that keep us asleep to God’s presence and purpose for us? And of course, how do we know the difference? In Jesus’ home village the questions they asked kept them asleep to what God was doing despite their initial amazement at Jesus’ wisdom. They were quickly scandalised and chose to not allow this wisdom to change their outlook. They were discomforted by Jesus’ prophetic presence and chose to not be changed by it. Perhaps our discernment needs to reflect on how we respond to discomfort, and on how we may adapt our questions to ease any discomfort we experience? 

What does it mean to repent? In terms of today’s Gospel reading it is to wake up to God’s presence; it is to really hear what God is saying and calling us to; it is being open to having our perspectives changed by what we both hear and see. However, it’s not about change for the sake of change; rather it is a setting aside of attitudes and perspectives and resulting actions that keep us at a distance from God and from other people, that maintain our independence and invulnerability. Repenting is to be open again to the power of God and the power of God’s word, both Biblical and prophetic; to being guests of other people’s hospitality where we lay aside our own desire to control our social context and be willing to hear the pain of other people’s lives even in the midst of our own struggles; to welcome people whose practices or belief systems may appear different to ours, and engage in meaningful dialogue; and in doing so to share prophetic hope.[1] 

As Jesus sends his disciples out he also gives them authority over unclean spirits, and we hear that not only do they call people to repentance, but they drive out demons and anoint and cure many who are sick. One way in which we deal with our discomfort is to demonise that which discomforts us. If we are to share a prophetic hope, we need to be cognisant of this strong human tendency, and open to God’s activity in setting us free from it.  A chapter earlier in Mark’s Gospel we hear how Jesus cleansed the demoniac of Gerasa, chasing a legion of unclean spirits into a herd of pigs. Not only was this man set free of the evil that had controlled him, but for Jesus’ disciples who likely held the common orthodox Jewish hostility for the Hellenistic culture of the Decapolis there was a symbolic cultural cleansing that altered their perspective and allowed for people of that region to be a welcome part of the crowds that subsequently followed Jesus. 

And so what does it look like to live the Christian faith in this post-Pentecost season of the Church year? I believe it is to allow the Spirit of God to work deeply within us, giving us the courage to confront our own demons; it is to repent and recognise afresh the presence of God in our lives and world; it is to be healed of that which afflicts us; it is to see the world differently, to see the world and others from God’s perspective; it is to acknowledge the image of God in every person, and see the potential for good in every cultural context; it is to be indiscriminate in the manner in which we share the bounteous love of God at every opportunity. It is to be humble, dependant, and vulnerable before God, the Source of all Being, and before one another; always. It is finding the courage to say, “With God’s help, we will!” 

Let us pray,

                … Jesus, …

               you turned,

               and spoke words of

               togetherness

               in the places of the torn.

               May we always find

     words to hold,

     especially in times

     when the world

     harms.

     Because sometimes

     words can

     heal.

     Amen.[2]

---

[1] Sermon Brainwave #791, https://www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/791-6th-sunday-after-pentecost-ord-14b-july-4-2021

[2] Pádraig Ó Tuama, Daily Prayer with the Corrymeela Community, page 53

Sermon: Trinity Sunday

 Sermon: Trinity Sunday

30 May 2021 – Archdeacon Mark Long

Isaiah 6:1-8; Psalm 29; and John 3:1-17; NRSV

I last preached two weeks ago in that liminal space between the Ascension and Pentecost and made the comment that faith is primarily about relationship. Today’s focus on the Trinity continues this theme, asking us to reflect on God’s Kingdom, present in our midst, as primarily about relationship and interconnectedness. The symbol for the Trinity, the Trinity Knot or Triquetra, with its triangular shape of a continuously interlinked line woven into a cirlce is a far better description of what we believe when we speak of God as Trinity than words can ever paint. It did, after all, take the Church close on three centuries to refine the Christian understanding of who God is, and the various Creeds we use – particularly the Apostles, Nicean and Athenasian – reflect this ongoing discussion from the 4^th to 6^th centuries after Constantine in the Edict of Milan in 313 CE decreed tolerance for Christianity in the Roman Empire. The Athenasian Creed quite tediously but importantly reminds us that while the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are all God, at the same time they are not each other. It is their relationship in the fullness of the Godhead that keeps them interconnected and united in their diversity. Trying to describe and/or understand this relationship through either the written or spoken word can be mind-numbing, whereas the image of the Trinity Knot woven into a circle gives space for our awareness to contemplate the relational and interconnected reality of the God we serve.

What I have said so far may already be leaving you somewhat confused, and our understanding of the Trinity is one of the more complex Christian teachings. It may be helpful to recognise in the Gospel account of Jesus’ interaction with Nicodemus that we are not alone in our confusion. We can be quite critical of Nicodemus, but he was a respected Jewish scholar and leader of his time, and even he struggled to understand the nature of God and God’s purposes for us in this life. We need to acknowledge Nicodemus’ courage in approaching Jesus, even if it was in the darkness of night, and entering into conversation with him. Nicodemus sought to understand Jesus’ insight into the very nature of life, and we see something of Jesus’ understanding of the roles that he, the Father, and the Spirit play in ensuring we are physically and spiritually alive.

It is important that we grapple with the teachings of our faith, but it is even more important that we experience our faith, particularly what it offers in terms of our daily experience of life and relationship. Rowan Williams helpfully reminds us in his book God with Us that through the Easter journey we are invited into the very heart of the Godhead, into the very heart of the relationship shared by the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. This is an amazing thought, because we acknowledge God as Creator, as the Source of all Being; we acknowledge through our celebration of the Ascension that Jesus is the Eternal Son, restorer of relationship; and the Holy Spirit is the sustainer of all life, and so much more. We are invited to participate in the interconnectedness of all that God is, to ourselves be co-creators and sustainers of life, committed to the important ministry of restorative justice and hope.

Which part of the Godhead are you drawn to? Perhaps reflecting on your favourite hymns will give you an inkling? If I offered you the choice of “Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise,” or “What A Friend We Have in Jesus,” or “Spirit of the Living God”, which one would you choose and why? And what does your choice say to you about your relationship to the Trinity; about what you are attracted to in God? And then of course, how do you live this attraction out in your relationships with other people, and with Creation itself? To some degree our personalities and life experience will define the direction of our attraction. However, we also need to remember that relationship and life itself is a journey, the call of our faith is into an ever increasing wholeness. It’s important to remember that we are called into relationship with the fullness of God, not just a part of God. Which parts of God do you need to know better? In recent years I have found myself really attracted to God as the Source of all Being, the creative fullness of God; as a teenager it was all about Jesus; and then as a young adult it was the Spirit that particularly drew me. Our recent Lent and Eastertide journey has awoken within me a desire to revisit my relationship with Jesus and the Holy Spirit, and to do so in such a way that my relationship with Jesus and the Spirit is congruent with my understanding of God as the Source of all Being. I’m recognising that there has been too much disconnection in my relationship with the various persons of the Trinity, and I need to embrace a more whole relationship that builds a new consonance in my awareness of the role God plays in and through my life.

 

How is God prompting you today? Perhaps in recognising which aspect of God you are presently attracted to there is a need to explore this aspect further? Or perhaps like me, you may feel a prompting to a greater congruence in your relationship with all aspects of God? Or even the need just to explore another aspect of God? There is no one answer and no one response; and God will be prompting you in a way unique to who you are, and where your relationship with God presently resides. There are also no easy or quick answers: it is always a journey. It is also a collective journey, even while our individual journeys continue, and while we explore our own personal relationships with God, with God’s kingdom, and with Creation itself, we also need to be asking these questions of ourselves as a community of Faith. What are we hearing God, Source of all Being, Eternal Son, and Holy Spirit, saying to us all today?

Let us pray,

               As we seek to be human together,

               may we share the things that do not fade:

               generosity, truth-telling, silence, respect, and love.

 

               And may the power we share

               be for the good of all.

 

               We honour God, the source of this rich life.

               And we honour each other, story-full and lovely.

 

               Whether in our shadow or in our shelter,

               may we love well

               and fully

               with each other

               Amen.[1]

---

[1] Pádraig Ó Tuama, Evening Prayer with the Corrymeela Community

Sermon: 7th Sunday of Easter

 Sermon: 7^th Sunday of Easter

16 May 2021 – Archdeacon Mark Long

Acts 1:15-26; Psalm 1; and John 17:6-19; NRSV

Today we walk that liminal space between the Ascension that we celebrated this last Thursday and the gift of Pentecost that we will celebrate next Sunday. Ascension reminding us not of Jesus absence, but rather of Jesus filling all creation, permeating the Cosmos and contemporary to every moment of existence, of all that is – in the words of the Nicean Creed – seen and unseen; and the gift of the Spirit at Pentecost a reminder of this Cosmic presence finding reality in the human experience. Today’s Gospel reading accompanies us in this transitional time between these two important celebrations of our Eastertide journey. What does this Gospel offer us?

Today’s Gospel[1] offers us the crucial reminder that faith is primarily about relationship, and we find Jesus in deep relational conversation with the Father, praying not for himself but for us that God would care for us and protect us in the complex intersection of faith and life. Jesus phrases this in terms of relationship and belonging and unity between himself and God, and our invitation into that unity; a unity in which we are drawn into and blessed by divine holiness, and ourselves carry the name God bestowed on Jesus. This name speaks of healing and wholeness, and is a mark of our belonging to all that is good, godly, creative and life-giving.

This name brings us into conflict with all that has disassociated itself from healing and wholeness, from all that embraces destruction and seeks to deface the image of God in our world. Jesus’ use of the word world here does not refer to the earth as we know it, but to a world of relationships that reject the wholeness of life that Faith calls us to, and that sees life purely in terms of power and control, a game to be played with little or no respect for the Other. It is a world Cláudio Carvalhaes, associate Professor of Worship at Union Theological Seminary in New York, describes as “… that part of our planet that lives in patriarchal structures, necropolitics, police violence, prisons, militarization, attacks on the poor, closing of borders, some rich people getting richer while everybody else becomes poorer, and the whole destruction of the earth.”[2] Just as this world rejected the light Jesus sought to shine into its darkness, so it rejects us, too. More subtly, it seeks to undermine our commitment by infiltrating our belief systems and disfiguring the love we seek to share; and thus our need as people of Faith to be committed to a penitential life-style that keeps us aware of our own fragility and need for God’s forgiveness and healing if we are to be effective agents of hope in our world.

Despite the challenges we experience at the intersection of faith and life, there is a wonderful affirmation of our obedience and belief in the opening verses of today’s Gospel reading, “… they have kept your word [,] … and they have believed that you sent me.”[3] Jesus’ reference here to our belief is again a relational statement and it is not one of institutionalised belief. Poet and philosopher, David Whyte,[4] reflects on what happens when belief loses its relational nature, and quite baldly states that, “The most tedious thing you can find out about another person is what they believe.” This specifically in the context of beliefs held in what David refers to as the strategic-competitive mind, which focuses on preservation and survival. The institutionalised Church all too often these days finds itself in this mindset, seeking to maintain itself in a world that all to often has the Church on the back foot; a Church seeking to survive and forgetful of its mission and purpose, offering a system of belief void of relationship and all to often caught up in abstract conversation. David Whyte speaks further of the need to move from this space into one he describes as the poetic mind, which focuses instead on a communal life of mutual celebration, a space where we can rest into the central tonality of the divine pattern, a constellation of belonging, a place of real conversation.

You’re quite possibly feeling a little overwhelmed by all of that. In essence, the more abstract we allow our belief systems to become, the more survivalist our actions, the more room we allow in our world for hurt and destruction; the more space we give for real conversation where our belief systems are moulded by our relational experience, the more room we allow in our world for healing and restoration. This requires us to be awake: awake to the world of destruction and awake to the call of God; awake to the nature of our conversations and awake to whether these conversations are destructive or creative; awake and willing to end all conversations that are not committed to healing and wholeness; and open to starting new and creative conversations that enable forgiveness, restoration and hope, and that are in every aspect life-giving.

Many of our conversations at the moment revolve around the ongoing pandemic, our frustration with our curtailed lives, and the resultant irritations; this is certainly true of many of mine. The third wave of COVID-19 infections has started in Southern Africa, and we’re heading into winter. On a more primal level winter has always been and remains a time for hibernation, for slowing down, for stopping. It’s a time in which Creation itself embraces stillness, silence, and solitude. Let us, as our act of worship, as our act of obedience to God, join Creation on this journey. Let us stop our conversations, our busyness, our noise, our continuous desire for entertainment.

Let us embrace stillness, silence and solitude, and reflect through the course of this winter; and awaken to Spring ready for new and creative and hope-filled conversation. 

I close today with a brief poem by David Whyte,

Just beyond

yourself. 

It's where

you need

to be.

Half a step 

into 

self-forgetting

and the rest

restored

by what

you'll meet.[5]

---

[1] John 17:6-19; NRSV

[2] Cláudio Carvalhaes, Commentary on John 17:6-19, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/seventh-sunday-of-easter-2/commentary-on-john-176-19-5

[3] John 17: 6b, 8b; NRSV

[4] David Whyte, Finding the new courageous conversation in times of uncertainty, https://soundcloud.com/coachesrising/54-david-whyte-embracing-the-unknown-times-of-uncertainty

[5] David Whyte, The Bell & The Blackbird and David Whyte: Essentials, https://davidwhyte.com/pages/writing

Sermon Notes: Ascension Day 2021

Sermon Notes: Archdeacon Mark R D Long

 

Address: Theological Dialogue & Practical Ethics

 LAUNCH OF PLATFORM FOR THEOLOGICAL DIALOGUE & PRACTICAL ETHICS

Celebrating the Historical Meeting between His Grace Pope Francis & Grand Ayatullah Sestani on 6 March 2021

Ahlul Bait (AS) Foundation of South Africa

Address by the Venerable Mark Long, Chairperson of the WCRLF | 27 April 2021

 

Mowlana Haider, Archbishop Brislin, fellow guests and people of Faith

 

In my capacity as the Archbishop of Cape Town’s representative on the Western Cape Religious Leaders’ Forum (WCRLF) I bring you greetings from his Grace, Thabo Makgoba. Together with his Grace, Archbishop Brislin, they are both valued Patrons of the WCRLF. As Chairperson of the WCRLF I bring you all greetings this afternoon from the various religious groupings and organisations that we represent.

 

Thank you for the generous invitation to address this important gathering today as we celebrate 27 years since the advent of democracy in South Africa, and in the context of this gathering as we celebrate the historic meeting of the Grand Ayatullah Sestani and his Holiness Pope Francis earlier this year. I am thankful for their courage and their example of reaching out to each other, and for this opportunity on the tip of Southern Africa to begin our own journey of theological dialogue and practical ethics. Thank you, Mowlana Haider, for motivating this engagement and for your personal commitment to this journey.

 

We have been asked to consider the important document on Human Fraternity for World Peace and Living Together, signed by Pope Francis and Mufti al-Tayyib of Al-Azhar University in February 2019, as a potential basis for our ongoing dialogue and practical implementation. I was struck in the introduction to this document by its focus on the safeguarding of creation, of the entire universe, of all persons (especially the poorest and those most in need); and its emphasis on seeking to attend to the issues of our times, the consequences of the arms race, social injustice, corruption, inequality, moral decline, terrorism, discrimination, and extremism; and that this is placed at the centre of inter-faith dialogue with an invitation to all people who have faith in God and in human kinship to work together in advancing a culture of mutual respect among all human beings based on the gift of divine grace. This focus is without doubt relevant to our Southern African context, the broader Western Cape, and the more specific challenges of Cape Town. The document itself goes on to commit to a culture of dialogue as the path, mutual cooperation as the code of conduct, reciprocal understanding as the method and standard.

 

We are here today to celebrate a wonderful and amazing willingness by the leaders of dominant world Faiths to set an example in reaching across the inter-faith divide for the greater good of humanity and the wider creation that sustains us. While this example is without doubt inspiring, it is meaningless if it doesn’t find traction at grassroots. My prayer is that today’s launch will give traction to a renewed commitment in our context, and that we will build on the evident openness of the religious sector in the Western Cape towards an increasing commitment to working together to address the common challenges we face, and through theological dialogue to identify the common principles of our divergent faith perspectives in ethically addressing the needs of the poorest in our society in practical and life-sustaining ways.

 

There are a number of initiatives already taking place in identifying the issues various faith-groupings and organisations are already addressing in our communities, and opening opportunities for dialogue and support in addressing the multitude of issues that plague our communities and broader society. Housing, gangsterism, gender-based violence, the rollout of Covid-19 vaccines being a few of those concerns that all too easily come to mind, often exacerbated by corruption, inequality and injustice. These initiatives align with the purpose of today’s gathering and underline the importance of a platform such as this.

 

The Western Cape Religious Leaders Forum has no hesitancy in aligning itself with this important and critical initiative.

 

Again, thank you for the invitation to be present and for the opportunity to address this gathering. Please be assured of our support going forward as together we seek with God’s help to address the critical issues of our time. And in the words of Archbishop Thabo Makgoba, “God loves you and so do I. Amen.”

Sermon: 4th Sunday of Easter

 Sermon: 4^th Sunday of Easter

25 April 2021 – Archdeacon Mark Long

Acts 4:5-12; Psalm 23; and John 10:11-18; NRSV

What does love look like? I have had the joy of solemnising the marriage of three couples in the Parish over the last four weeks, and love has been physically visible in the body language and responses of the couples to one another. Despite the nervous excitement of the moment each couple have radiated a confidence in their shared love, and I was particularly struck by the breadth of the groom’s smile on Friday afternoon. The nature of love expressed so powerfully in marriage is is based on a firm faith by the couple in one another, and a concrete hope in the resurrection gift of possibility and potential.

What does love look like? Today’s Gospel reading expresses it in these words, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.”[1] Love here is expressed in this image of Christ’s unending and unfailing care for all God’s people, just as shepherds in Jesus’ time would have cared for sheep out in the wilderness, facing down predators at the possible cost of their own lives.[2] Love is also visible in Jesus words that there are other sheep that belong, too, although they belong to another flock; and that a time will come when there will be an easy diversity in our belonging – one shepherd and one flock.[3]

What does love look like? Today’s reading from Acts expresses it in these words, “There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among mortals by which we must be saved.”[4] Love here is expressed in the sufficiency of Jesus’ name, and more specifically in the power of Jesus’ name, based in the reality of death and resurrection, in the possibility and potential for the renewal of our lives and relationships, and the healing of the brokenness and heartache we experience in our broader society.

What does love look like?  Today’s Psalm expresses it in these words, “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.”[5] A beautifully simple reminder that in the Hebrew understanding of God, Yahweh satisfies every need. And more than that, God’s love provides for us in every aspect of life, and is never conditional. We know and love this Psalm through the poetic beauty of the King James’s translation, and are often comforted by it in the context of death, embedded as Psalm 23 is in our funeral rite. A more accurate translation of some Hebrew phrases reminds us that this Psalm is about an active journey through life, one where the green pastures and still waters are a brief respite on a journey where we continually seek to return into God’s presence, pursued only by goodness and mercy along paths of righteousness that are more game tracks through dark valleys of difficulty than my imagined highways of righteousness leading to eternal bliss.[6] This is what love looks like: life’s journey with God ever present providing all that we need on the demanding and difficult rutted pathways we often find ourselves traversing.

This is what love looks like. And this is the love you and I are called to make visible. When we look with honesty in the mirror, when we look around us in the more intimate context of family and friendships, and when we gaze out on society our love lacks so much, and is a very muted expression of the love today’s Scriptures reflect. Our love is insipid in comparison to God’s, our lives and love often so self-focused and conditional, our desire to have others conform to our will so dominant, that God’s love is diminished and disfigured in our living of it. And yet this is the call of Eastertide: to sacrifice what we have made of love that it may die, truly die; that out of the devastation of death our love may be resurrected, embraced in the fullness of God, restored and transformed, renewed into the fullness of all that love and life has been created by God to be. This is the Easter love we are given freely without any strings attached, a love we are invited by God to live not in our own strength alone, but in the strength and resilience of the Holy Spirit of God.

We need to live intentionally, awake daily to the potential and opportunities for living life creatively and fully, vulnerable before God and one another, sufficiently courageous to acknowledge any failure and open to God’s forgiveness in such a manner that our lives and relationships are continuously formed, reformed, and transformed; embracing one another across the diversity of our religious, cultural, and gender differences. Jesus’ resurrection is a constant reminder of the potential for new beginnings for ourselves, for others, and for our world. Each new beginning requires us to take a step in faith, trusting in God being ever present in our lives, the Good Shepherd continuously caring for us, resourcing us, loving us. This is the love we are called to live. Let’s live it!

Let us pray,

Jesus,

You sought to seek love

in all you did:

your friendships, your critiques

of yourself, your critiques of

abusive power, your critiques of

halfhearted work. It was love

that you followed, and love

that you did.

 

Help us to remember that there is

no place where love cannot be sought.

And if we find such a place, remind us

that you, too, went there, seeking

for the love that was waiting there

to be found.

 

Amen.[7]

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[1] John 10:11; NRSV

[2] Gennifer Benjamin Brooks, Commentary on John 10:11-18, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fourth-sunday-of-easter-2/commentary-on-john-1011-18-5

[3] John 10:16; NRSV

[4] Acts 4:12; NRSV

[5] Psalm 23:1; NRSV

[6] Joel LeMon, Commentary on Psalm 23, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fourth-sunday-of-easter-2/commentary-on-psalm-23-25

[7] Pádraig Ó Tuama, Fourth Sunday of Easter, https://www.spiritualityofconflict.com/pdfs/readings/308_fourth-sunday-of-easter.pdf