We heard in our first reading that Amalek came and waged war against Israel, and we are used to the waging of war, both in the Bible and the news, are we not? What we are not told is that Israel had just invaded them, so the waging of war is perhaps a slight exaggeration. The biblical scholars tell us that Amalek was a nomadic tribe that lived on the borderlands between the desert and the Promised Land, rather like Cumbria between Scotland and Lancashire. It’s not hard to imagine why the sudden arrival of Israel in their territory might have concerned these people. Where resources are scarce, a new competitor represents an existential threat to the community, as we are told daily by Nigel Farage and other people who are profiting out of the current situation. It is not surprising, then, given the circumstances, that the Amalekites might try and drive Israel away before the people of God could establish themselves and it is, anyway, their land, a fact which the reading today seems to forget. Over the centuries, Christian and Jewish thinkers have perceived a deeper significance to Amalek’s ancient struggle with Israel. As the first enemy to attack the Israelite people after their escape from slavery in Egypt, Amalek came to be understood as a symbol or a sign of every enemy of God’s people, every danger, force, idea, or group that might seek the destruction of God’s children. Thus our first reading has been understood to recount more than just a fight between competing nomadic tribes in the desert: it is an image of a more profound struggle between the People of God and the forces of evil that seek our destruction both communally and individually. Who owns land? Whose earth is it? Where is God in the movement of peoples? It is significant, then, that our first reading describes Moses sending a young man named Joshua, son of Nun, to lead Israel into battle. The English names ‘Joshua’ and ‘Jesus’ are in fact different versions of the same name in Hebrew: ‘Yeshua’ was a common alternative to ‘Yehoshua’. Indeed, the ancient Greek translation of the Hebrew bible which was very familiar to so many of the first Christians even translates Joshua’s name as ‘Iesous’ – ‘Jesus’. The first Greek speaking Christians would therefore have read this text and seen that a man called Jesus led Israel into battle against Amalek; a man called Jesus overcame this first enemy of Israel that was a symbol of all that is evil; and a man called Jesus symbolically anticipated the victory of Jesus Christ over sin and death on the cross. Jesus (Joshua) son of Nun conquered Amalek, the symbol of all that is evil in a battle in the desert, the symbol of those who stood in the way of the people and therefore plan of God. Jesus, Son of Mary, Son of God conquered the reality of evil through his death, resurrection and ascension. Jesus Christ conquered not just ‘Amalek’, a symbol of evil, but sin and death itself. The movement of peoples was and is here irrelevant, what mattered and matters is our relationship with God which not only transcends, here, time and the borders of nations, but indeed life itself. Any Christian people will see salvation and eternity first and other matters second. This victory of Christ is shared with us through our Baptism, and yet it is at the same time still to be fully accomplished in our lives. Jesus Christ has given us the victory, yet for now we still find ourselves in a struggle against the sin of the world and our most powerful weapon in this fight is prayer. We heard in our first reading that the first Jesus, Joshua, gains the upper hand in the battle against the Amalekites as long as Moses prayed with his arms stretched out in the sign of the cross. In our Gospel reading, the widow never tired of demanding justice from the unjust judge and so she too was ultimately vindicated. Both readings point us to the utmost importance of persevering in prayer. If our life is a struggle, we must know that in Jesus the victory has already been won. To be in the struggle is to be winning the struggle because we rely not on our own strength but on the cross of Christ. As long as our hands are raised in prayer, then in this life or the next we will share in Christ’s victory, raising of flags might make people cheer, raising of prayers might unite us to heaven, where there is no borderland, just eternity with God or without Him. Jesus’s listeners would have known the prophets and the law, at least vaguely, and within both, justice for orphans and widows and the strangers in our land (as one day we will be in His) in particular was a constant theme. So a good judge, for Jesus’s listeners would have been one like God who judges well, and with mercy. This is our faith. Prayer, given that we naturally are social beings and are redeemed as a new people should involve the prayer of the Christian community, part of our daily living. If our work, family life or leisure are not done in humility, compassion, integrity and the seeking of true peace, then we will find it difficult to set aside moments of prayer. To pray constantly is to live a Christian life humbly before God, seeking to love our neighbours as ourselves. By doing this, our will becomes aligned with the divine will and our prayer is constant. This is faith on earth. Put up the flags of faith to let people know that we are a people of love, and prayer, and faith.
If you’re a driver – you know when you stop and let another car out of a junction, or allow someone coming in the opposite direction to turn right, in front of you? Isn’t it nice when that person indicates their thanks to you. But don’t you find it somewhat irritating when they don’t? Even a nod of the head or a small indication of the hand – something which shows acknowledgement of your courtesy. It’s being courteous in return. Showing gratitude – a really small gesture but one which can make a huge difference.In our gospel reading today, Jesus heals 10 people of leprosy, but only one of them shows any sign of gratitude. Because of their condition, these lepers will have been shunned by society, ostracized with absolutely no interaction with anyone except other lepers. But once they implore Jesus for mercy, He takes pity on them and facilitates their healing – all of them. Now I’d like to think that if I’d been one of those lepers that I would have shown gratitude to the man who has just freed me from my social prison, rather than just walk away as if I’d just been given something which I believed was owed to me. But with the exception of one man, that is exactly what happened. The nine were indeed healed of their leprosy and will, as Jesus instructed, have gone to be ceremonially cleansed by the priests. They were free of leprosy externally, but what about internally? Were they still effectively leprous in their hearts, having given no indication of thanks to Jesus? The one who came back did show gratitude and is told by Jesus that his faith has healed him. So, he didn’t need to go to see the priests; his faith, his show of thanks had assured him of his total cleansing – inside and out. This man was thankful, in the midst of thanklessness.We still live, today, in a thankless generation; a generation which expects, oftentimes expecting the undeserved. But Jesus is merciful to us all, even the underserving. And by being thankful, by showing gratitude – this is a way in which we worship Him, a way that we worship our God. It doesn’t take much, hardly expends any energy, but a small gesture of thanks can make a world of difference. In a thankless generation, we can be thankful. “A thankful heart is one of the primary identifying characteristics of a believer. It stands in stark contrast to pride, selfishness, and worry. And it helps fortify the believer's trust in the Lord and reliance of His provision, even in the toughest times. No matter how choppy the seas become, a believer's heart is buoyed by constant praise and gratefulness to the Lord” (John MacArthur in Grace to You Newsletter, March 2009.)We have so much to be grateful for. The many blessings that God bestows on us every single day. Far too many to number and yet so many we simply take for granted. When God blesses us, whatever He blesses us with, we should be sure to thank Him. And most especially when He blesses us with something for which we have prayed, the first thing we should do is to be sure to show gratitude. We cannot ‘be’ without God’s good graces, not least the perfect balance of the elements around us which ensure the sustenance of life. And gratitude does not have an expiry date. We should never cease to be grateful, for whatever good graces we receive day in day out, we should continue with our expression of thanks.Paul instructs the Colossians to be ‘overflowing with thankfulness’ and warns that one of the signs of the last days is unthankfulness (2 Timothy 3:2).And Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote ‘In ordinary life we hardly realise that we receive a great deal more than we give, and that it is only with gratitude that life becomes rich.’So let us think about when we last stopped, just stopped, and were thankful for our blessings. When we last just spent time with God, being thankful for what He has done, even without our asking. Let us live with an attitude of gratitude and make the world just that tiny bit better.
When I was asked to write Thought for the day for 5th October, I realised that the reading from Luke was particularly relevent to me because it concerns being anxious about faith; that our faith is not sound enough. We feel guilty that we sometimes have doubts.Luke tells us that even the apostles, who left everything to follow Jesus, got to a point of asking him to help them have more faith. But apparently they are told that even faith as tiny as a mustard seed is enough because if we have faith enough to ask for more, we already have enough.Jesus compared The Kingdom of Heaven to a mustard seed that grows to form a huge tree that gives shelter to all the birds.Faith includes being conscious of your innermost anxieties and also noticing what is going on in the world around us, with all it's chaos and patiently waiting for the light to return. Placing your hopes in Jesus even when things are very dark around you. St Mark says, "Lord I believe. Help my unbelief."St Augustine, said "Crede ut intelligas'', Believe, so that you may understand. A few centuries later, St Anselm famously wrote, 'I do not seek to understand in order that I may believe, but rather I believe in order that I may understand'.During those times when I wrestle with my belief I concentrate on the most important message that Christ brought to the world. That we were to love God and our neighbours. That we share our love with everyone we meet. Not an easy task sometimes and one that requires patience, forgiveness and understanding. In fact, we trust that Jesus will forgive us when we pray to The Lamb of God for mercy in the beautiful Agnus Dei. St Paul writes to the Corinthians of the 3 important rules in following Christ; faith, hope and love and reminds us that love is the most essential.The message is clear and simple and dispels all doubts, for who can argue with this.
A while ago I was shopping in Home Bargains, like everyone else, I’d been caught in a sudden shower, and as we queued, damp and bedraggled, I noticed a man a couple of places ahead. When he reached the till, he leaned over quietly and asked the cashier if he could pay for the lady behind him as well. She was a stranger, no fanfare, no fuss… just a genuine act of kindness. You could see the surprise on the lady's face; his kindness lifted the mood. That small moment of generosity came back to me as I read today’s Gospel. We are given a most striking of parables... a rich man, clothed in purple and fine linen, feasting every day whilst Lazarus, poor, covered with sores, is lying at his gate. When they both die, their fortunes are reversed. Lazarus is carried to Abraham’s side, the rich man finds himself in torment, still blind to the chasm between them.This parable is not just about the life to come it is about how we see and respond to those around us today. Scripture is full of God’s concern for the poor, the overlooked, the forgotten. Amos warned against those who lounge in luxury while others suffer. And today Jesus asks us... who is at our gate? As a hospital chaplain, I often meet people who are alone, no visitors, no family, sometimes even no one to be present at their funeral. Yet every person has a story, relationships, experiences, each one matters. Today’s Gospel tells us that no one is invisible to God. God sees Lazarus, God sees each of us.Loneliness and poverty aren’t only end-of-life issues. Here in Blackpool and across the Fylde there are people in our own streets, in bedsits and flats who live alone, who rarely see a visitor, who feel forgotten. The Beatles once asked in the song “Eleanor Rigby”: ‘All the lonely people, where do they all come from? All the lonely people, where do they all belong?’ Eleanor Rigby, ‘who died in the church and was buried along with her name,’ stands for countless people whose lives pass unnoticed. Yet the Gospel tells us that every name is known to God, every life held in his love. In the hospital I see how God raises up people who notice. Take for example our Chaplaincy Volunteer Team, many from local churches, including St Stephen’s, they walk the wards, offering conversation, prayer, or simply a listening ear. Their love in action reminds patients… you matter, you belong, you are seen.The same is true in parish life, our Friday afternoon gatherings in the church hall might seem small... cups of tea, chat, cake, music, laughter. Yet for some they are a lifeline. In those simple moments Christ is present, quietly transforming lives. This Gospel also points us beyond our town, think of when we witness natural disasters, wars, or injustice, so often we also see hearts moved to generosity. Appeals are launched, donations made, prayers offered. Organisations like Christian Aid remind us that compassion can take root and change lives, tackling not just emergencies but the deeper causes of poverty. The vision of our own diocese puts it well: “Healthy Churches Transforming Communities.” The Good News of Christ is not only about words but about action... bringing hope, dignity, and healing, especially to those whom society overlooks. The witness of history shows what can happen when faith awakens compassion. Think of Desmond Tutu confronting apartheid, William Wilberforce opposing the slave trade, or the slum priests of the Anglo Catholic Oxford Movement, walking the streets of Victorian London. Each began with noticing those whom others overlooked. So today, the parable of Lazarus comes as both a warning and a promise. A warning not to let our eyes be closed. A promise that God sees us and invites us to see with him.This week, we have met a rich man clothed in purple, blind and indifferent to the need at his gate, unable even to share the crumbs from his table. And yet, in Jesus we meet another who was also dressed in a robe... not of splendour, but of mockery. in John 19:2, 5 we read... “And the soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head and arrayed him in a purple robe. Pilate went out again and said… ‘Behold the man!’” Jesus is the one who sees deeply into the mixed motives of our humanity, who knows the depth of our need. he does not give us scraps, he gives us himself, a total outpouring. On the cross he empties himself completely, and here at the altar he feeds us with his very self, the bread of heaven.
