It can be harder to get a new message through to those who are comfortable with how things are than to those who suffer at the hands of a currently unjust situation. Many of the poor in the old DDR of Eastern Germany were very keen to see reform, but the more equal members of the party were not so keen, and you only have to speak to a Romanian over the age of about fifty five to hear the same thing about that nation, and thank God they rejected the chaotic nationalism offered to them at the most recent election. A Muscovite influencer may also extol the current regime, whereas a different story is heard in Tiksi, where Moscow is but a distant rumour. We find the same here as well, as the recent council elections have shown, to the feigned shock of our own elite. This all has as much to do with deeply felt political beliefs as it has to do with how hungry people are and on occasion, how much people who have disenfranchised themselves feel that they have been disenfranchised by others. But the hungrier you are, the keener on change you will be. It is a commonplace that most of those who were first attracted to Christianity were from the hungrier parts of their society. ‘Consider your own call’, St Paul wrote to the Corinthians, ‘not many of you were wise, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is weak, what is low and despised in the world’.Most of those who wrote the books of the New Testament, however, were a little better fed, for they had obviously had enough of an education to enable them to write in more or less correct Greek. The exception to this is the Book of Revelation, from which today’s second reading is taken. In the third century, a learned Egyptian bishop knew that some people in the church rejected this book, considering it to be unintelligible and illogical. It was not a revelation, that is to say, an unveiling, at all, they said. Rather it was itself veiled by a great thick curtain of unintelligibility and even now, it divides people, particularly along the line of biblical inerrancy, which is a foolish title for those who believe that everything in the bible happened exactly as it is written and will occur exactly as it is predicted, even when the entire book begins with two contradictory creation narratives and ends with a cast of thousands of monsters and seas of blood. Nothing is impossible for God of course, not even that He might often speak in allegory or, indeed, parable.Denis of Alexandria was clear that the book was inspired by God, even if he hedged his bets about it being one long vision given to John on Patmos, although he did strongly suggest that its author could not also have written the Gospel or the letters of John, which themselves seem to form one canon of literature quite separate from the Revelation. One of his rationales is that whereas they are written in Greek that is eloquent and certainly learned, the language of Revelation is vulgar and often utilises poor grammar. Yet, if the author of Revelation cannot write without showing himself to be reasonably uneducated, he also shows himself by the standards of that time to be financially poorly off as well, however and this is a big and important however, in what he wrote we are able to glimpse how the Gospel of Jesus Christ transformed his life and outlook. That is, the Revelation is written by someone who knows the Gospels well and has a strong faith, which is worth more than education and wealth.This same Gospel informs the authors strong belief that life is simply not just to be lived as a rite of passage to Heaven, where divine opiates wipe away all pain. The acceptance of the Gospel opens his eyes to the wickedness and injustice and oppression of the world he lives in, as it should do to ours as well. While this fills him with anger, it also fills him with hope, with the confidence that human society, not beyond the grave, but in the here and now, can be and will be transformed into the just society God intends it to be.In the Holy city, come down out of heaven, to the earth, there will be no avarice, no oppression of the poor, for the baubles and the precious metals that the rich like to grasp to themselves will be as common as dirt in the street. And there will be no need for a Temple in this city, for the city itself will be the dwelling of God with human beings and the Temple in Jerusalem, home of avarice and theft, can assume the insignificance that it its due – earthly things may pass away, but the new Jerusalem, the heaven come to earth, is eternal.In the Gospel of John, Jesus says that the time will come when God’s true worshippers will worship him neither on the mountain of the Samaritans, nor in the temple in Jerusalem, but will worship him in spirit and in truth. The John of Revelation longed for the coming of that moment, when God will dwell with human beings, not in a temple, but in love and truth, two virtues so deeply lacking in he world. He has seen what will come to be if human beings will allow that divine Love to come into their hearts and change them. He has seen the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down, out of heaven, to the earth, and he is telling us, urgently, to get ready for it.
It might not feel it, this beautiful morning in the beautiful season of Easter, but in the Gospel it is a dark night, and the darkest of all nights, the night of the Agony in the Garden and the abandonment of Jesus by His Disciples. The Gospel reading begins ‘When Judas had gone out’. There is a direct correlation between Judas going out and the darkness and the shadow of the coming evils of the trial and death of Christ and the knowledge that love conquers evil and the Son of God illuminates even the darkest night.We are reminded of the words of Jesus, ‘The light has come into the world and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil’. So the darkness is to be dispelled by a new commandment ‘that you love one another as I have loved you’. But what is new about it? And why does this commandment remain new for the world two thousand years later? Why do we come here to this building to worship the source of love and to offer ourselves to the love that overcomes death and darkness?First of all, because love is more than a commandment — it is a gift and it points to the gift of Jesus to the world by his Father. It’s a gift that we are asked to offer to each other here as well, and to model beautifully, in whatever way we can. Doing things lovingly is reflects the glorification of Jesus through his passion and death and passes that on to us and our children, and through his passion and death we too will be glorified with the glory given by the Father to Jesus. But more, through this the Father himself will be glorified. This is the point of our love, to glorify God in and through each other and to enfold ourselves into that love. In a short while we will have our Annual Parochial Council Meeting at which we look at what happened last year, elect new officers for the coming year and, above all, seek new ways to love one another and our community. This is the guiding principle of our faith and our existence here – to love.Secondly, the new commandment of love is the expression of a covenant made with the world through the shedding of the blood of Jesus. The distinctiveness of this covenant is that it is an act of total self giving, an act of sublime generosity which reveals to us the Father’s generosity in giving us his Son.If we keep this covenant of love, we are told, ‘all will know that you are my disciples’ — so we will in fact make the Spirit of Jesus present for all time to and within the world and specifically here, in this place. But we need to ask, how do we show this love? How are we changed by it? How does it make its home within us?We need to reflect upon how John seems to understand the Trinitarian life of God, the relationship of the Son to the Father, and the relationship of the Father and the Son to the Holy Spirit. The Trinitarian life of God is not something ‘static’ — it is intensely dynamic. The Father sends the Son, and through them both, the Holy Spirit. In Baptism we receive the Holy Spirit and, as it were, make a return journey. Through the Holy Spirit we are united with Jesus and we ‘return’ with him to the Father. There is a processionality of love, through the creation wrought by the Father, the incarnation of the Son and the life of the Holy Spirit, living and moving in each other and catching us all up in that complex but infinitely simple dance of love, or hope and of new creation and creativity, in which we all find our home and our gifts may be used to the full, holding nothing back, not even our own selves, but giving ourselves to each other in a ceaseless act of love and surrender to the greater, cosmic, divine heart.We are brothers and sisters of God and like Jesus we can call God ‘Abba’ Father; and we are made divine, not by nature as with Jesus, but by the gift of the new covenant of love which is greater than any other covenant and remains new and is made anew in every sacrifice of praise on our altar and on the altar of our heart.When we love deeply, we know the sensation of that love with reciprocity. Likewise with God, this occurs through the Word of God, the life of the Church and through the Holy Spirit constantly making us new and calling us to life in Him and with each other. This love makes it possible to show the love of God to the world, because we will bear it so clearly in our own lives that it cannot be hidden, if we will just allow ourselves to be lost in love.We become a light that dispels the darkness of evil, a light to the world. ‘By this will all people know that you are my disciples.’ But it will cost, as it cost Jesus, as there is no love without the cross, but this easter, we can rejoice that He has overcome the world and all things can be made new. Here is love, offered to us, all we have to do is take it.
This Sunday we call ‘Good Shepherd Sunday’ and for good reason, but it is also sometimes reduced to a plea for clerical vocations, which debases the readings we hear and leads us on to the dangerous clericalism that equates clergy with shepherds and everyone else as sheep. It is not to be so with us! The early church used the Good Shepherd, rather than the Cross, as its symbol and it is certainly the best known image in the New Testament with roots deep in salvation history: David, the boy shepherd, was chosen to be king of Israel; he was the anointed leader of the people of God, to guide and lead them towards God and his kingdom.The same early Church in its ministry of living the Good News of the Kingdom of God had perhaps encountered difficulties - what is true and what is false teaching. Great concern for the people of God is expressed; if the people are misled, if they are persuaded by a false voice, they could be prevented from attaining the Kingdom of God – in other words, how do we know, in the midst of the confusion of this world and its many competing voices even in the wider church, if it is the voice of Christ we hear most clearly?This concern was expressed also in last Sunday’s Gospel, when Our Lord appeared again to the Twelve after his rising again from the dead. The answer we were given is love. If you love me, you will feed my sheep, and the answer is so critical that Peter is made to give it three times, the third of which contains his confession of faith ‘you know everything’ – ergo, you are God. Last Sunday’s Gospel was also about the large catch of fish and about eating; Jesus prepared fish and bread and invited them to eat, this reminds us that the shepherd leads his flock to where they can eat, grow and develop, not to infantilise or spoon feed them.The Apostles would also remember the last time they were with Jesus before his death, when they were with him on Holy Thursday, in the upper room for the last supper and the first Eucharist; he fed them, they were in communion with him, united. They would also, however, remember their subsequent behaviour, because Judas betrayed him, Peter denied him, and the apostles abandoned him. When Peter was asked three times if he loved him, he would have remembered that he denied him three times. There were problems in the early church as there are problems now, and they revolve around shepherds who are wolves, priests and bishops who had accepted the call to be shepherds and betrayed the trust placed in them. This great scandal reminds us of the universal call to share in the shepherding, the guiding of the Church, and that we are called to lead and serve at the same time, to be involved in the world as it is and to point it to how it could be, but to do so authentically, not as an elite semi removed from it. Smell of the sheep, as Pope Francis often said, be together, be one.When Pope Saint Gregory the Great was elected Bishop of Rome, he shrank from what he called ‘this intolerable burden’. But he did accept and became a great pastor. We now know that some who undertook the great responsibility of pastoral care were quite unworthy, that they betrayed the command given to Peter and the apostles to guide, lead, teach and cherish and led into darkness. Do not let this happen to you, question your shepherds and make sure you share that burden with them, you are not only sheep, but you are also shepherds, we are all partly sheep because we follow Christ, who gave us all a charge to love each other. I was so happy to hear Pope Leo XIV on Thursday night, when he said, ‘To all of you, brothers and sisters of the whole world, we want to be a synodal Church, a Church that walks, a Church that always seeks peace, always seeks charity, always strives to be close especially to those who suffer’. Well, may God bless him and keep him.And as for wolves and predators, well, Jesus did warn his disciples that he was sending them out as sheep in the midst of wolves. And we have always suffered from a double danger, liable to attacks from the outside from wolves and robbers and from false shepherds or leaders within, who have agendas that are theirs and not Gods. You see, the Bible doesn’t say that bad things won’t happen to Christians. It’s not ‘if I walk through the darkest valley” but “Even though I walk I through the darkest valley” which seems to suggest that it is more of an occupational hazard than a rare occurrence.Don’t treat the Good Shepherd as one of the Emergency Services coming to our aid when we’re in a bad place. Our Good Shepherd is with us as we wander through the green pasture as well, and life is so much more blessed when it’s lived in the knowledge that God’s presence is with us always and when we love each other.‘And surely I am with you always,’ says Jesus in Matthew 28. ‘..to the very end of the age.’ And as Pope Leo said, ‘This is the peace of the Risen Christ: a disarming peace, humble and persevering, it comes from God, God who loves us all unconditionally. God loves us, God loves you all, and evil shall not prevail. We are all in God’s hands. Yes, we are all in the hands of the Good Shepherd and we are all called to share in that work.
The setting is familiar, the Sea of Galilee, a place that echoes with memories of the disciples’ first call. Yet now, they are in a very different situation. The risen Christ has appeared to them, and still, they seem unsure of their next steps. Peter, perhaps reflecting on his denial of Jesus, returns to what he knows best, fishing. The others join him, but their efforts yield nothing. It’s in this moment of fruitless labour, when the night seems longest and the nets are still empty, then at that moment, that the risen Lord appears on the shore. And isn’t that often the way with us too? It’s often when we most feel like giving up, when work is getting us nowhere, when relationships are strained or faltering, when health is failing or finances feel stretched to breaking, it’s in those quiet, weary spaces that Christ draws near. Not in the glare of certainty or strength, but in the soft light of dawn, on the shoreline of our lives, when we are most aware of our need. Reading this Gospel takes me back to my first year of ordination as a Deacon. My theological college, St Stephen’s House had arranged a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and one morning, we too set out on a replica fishing boat to sail the waters of Galilee. It was an unforgettable experience… the waves lapping gently at the shore, the silhouettes of the hills that have stood unchanged for centuries, and the sense of, in this case, sailing, where the disciples once had.At the end of our time on the water, we gathered on the shore for a fish breakfast. Sitting there, we read this very scene from John’s Gospel. What struck me was the timelessness of it all. The landscape remains largely untouched, and those same hills would have witnessed Peter and the others hauling in their miraculous catch… a moment when exhaustion gave way to abundance, and failure turned to fulfilment.Our New Testament tutor reflected on the words of a theologian called Albert Schweitzer and his well-known phrase: “He comes to us as one unknown.” Words inspired by our Gospel, and are taken from the closing lines of his seminal work ‘The Quest of the Historical Jesus’. His phrase reminds us that just as the disciples on the shore of Galilee initially failed to recognise the risen Lord, so too are we often slow to recognise Christ’s presence in our own lives. Yet, like the disciples, we are invited to discover Him afresh, not as a distant figure of history, but as the living Lord who meets us in the ordinary, everyday moments and calls us to deeper relationship.And so the call to follow is not a one-time event, it is a continual process of renewal, of returning to Christ, especially when we feel lost or uncertain. Discipleship is not about having all the answers, but about remaining faithful to the Lord who calls us. Like Peter, we may falter, but Christ’s grace restores and renews us, equipping us to begin afresh.For me, this Gospel is a story of fresh starts, something we all need from time to time. For Peter, this moment was deeply personal. After his threefold denial, he is given the opportunity for a threefold affirmation of love. ‘Do you love me?’ Jesus asks, not to condemn, but to restore. This speaks of a moment of healing, where the risen Christ reaches into Peter’s heart, not to dwell on failure but to renew his sense of purpose... ‘Feed my sheep.’For us, too, Christ offers fresh starts. There are times in life when we feel like the disciples, returning to old routines, uncertain of the way forward. Perhaps it’s the weariness of daily struggles, anxiety, the slow mending of a fractured relationship, or the quiet ache of feeling adrift. But Christ comes to meet us in those moments… not only offering forgiveness, but the grace to keep going, to begin again.Think of the times in our own lives when we’ve needed a fresh start: the first day in a new job after the old one ended in disappointment, the patient, the hope-filled act of trying again after failure, the long, slow work of rebuilding trust after words were spoken in haste. These moments mirror Peter’s encounter with Christ… reminding us that we are never beyond the reach of God’s renewing love.For the early Church, this Gospel would have resonated deeply. In Acts, we see the apostles boldly proclaiming the risen Christ, even in the face of persecution. Their courage and conviction is rooted not in their own strength, but in their encounter with the Risen Lord… the same Christ who had met them, in their weakness, by the lakeside, and commissioned them to continue His work. For the early Church, this was a genuine, living source of hope, assuring them that their efforts, however small or humble, were part of a much larger plan.Today’s Gospel invites us to recognise Christ’s presence in the ordinary. Just as He met the disciples on the shore, He meets us in the familiar rhythms of life… in the beauty of creation, in the kindness of a friend, or the quiet strength of a whispered prayer. The resurrection is not just an event to remember, but a reality to live. The Risen Christ continues to come to us, often in ways we least expect.Here at St. Stephen’s, the Eucharist is our ‘shoreline’… the meeting place where human need and God’s grace touch. Here, at the altar, Christ feeds us with His very self, and sends us out, once again, to be His witnesses in the world. And just as those hills around Galilee remain unchanged, so too does Christ’s love endure, offering us the ability to begin again, again and again.As we reflect on this Gospel in the days ahead, let’s hear Christ’s invitation to cast our nets once more… even if the night has been long, even if the nets feel empty. Let’s embrace the fresh starts He offers, and follow Him with renewed hearts and minds. Amen.