Click here for Astrid's video messageMatthew 20:1-16 Jonah 3:10 – 4:1115th Sunday after TrinityOn a cold winter’s morning the bishop stood by the roaring log fire in his palace. His first son, a rural dean, came down for breakfast.‘Good morning!’ said the bishop. ‘How did you sleep?’‘Very well, Father. In fact, I dreamt of heaven.’‘Really? And what was it like?’‘Wonderful! Just like home!’The bishop gave him a kindly smile and the two men stood by the fire, warming themselves. Soon, the second son – a canon – arrived.‘Good morning!’ the bishop greeted him. ‘Sleep well?’‘Marvellous, Father’ said the canon. ‘I dreamt of heaven!’‘You too?’ laughed the bishop. ‘And what was it like?’‘Wonderful! Just like home!’After many more minutes, the third and youngest son arrived, bleary-eyed. He was the black sheep of the family, an actor and a deep disappointment to his father.‘How did you sleep, my boy?’ asked the bishop.‘Dreadful,’ replied the youngest son. ‘I dreamt of hell.’‘Oh dear!’ said the bishop. ‘What was it like?’‘Just like home. I couldn’t get near the fire for all the clergy.’ *Jokes often bring home a truth in a roundabout way – and the way they are put helps us remember. The same applies to parables. Jesus told them, not as cute little bedtime stories, but rather to overturn people’s preconceived ideas. The parable of the labourers in the vineyard is a deliberate challenge to conventional views of just reward. We may sympathise with the workers who received their wage last after a long day of labour. But the economy of grace in God’s kingdom is much wider than we often wish to understand. Firstly, the wages were as agreed; it should have been no surprise, really. The labourers of the first hour started their workday content, in the knowledge that they would be able to bring something home.Secondly, the employer was of course allowed to do what he chose with what belonged to him. It was in his right to exceed conventional expectation.And thirdly, there’s something else to consider: that God’s grace is freely given, and does not depend on our own merit. We do not earn more grace because we are either more pious or more generous than the next person. In fact, why compare ourselves to others at all, except to realise that we are all sinners saved by grace alone.And then this: the other workers, those who started their work later and later in the day had had many hours to spend dreading the end of the day, at the prospect of having nothing to take home. Those who hear and respond to the Gospel last don’t have it any better really than we do; rather, they are without hope.Think of Jonah, the reluctant prophet, who ran a mile and was swallowed by a whale before obeying God’s word to him to warn the people of Nineveh of their doom unless they changed their ways. Jonah was more concerned with himself and his own reputation than with the plight of many, who, as God said, didn’t know their right from their left.And the letter to the Romans, chapter 9, verse 15: For [God] says to Moses, ‘I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion.’So, as the parable ends, ‘the last will be first, and the first will be last’; may those words help us understand, so that we may not trip up by our own complacency but rather rejoice in God’s compassion. In other words: don’t get too close to the fire; it may not be the kind you’re expecting… Amen.*From: ‘Bats in the Belfry’ by Murray Watts
Click here for Astrid's video messageMatthew 18:21-35 Genesis 50:15-2114th Sunday after TrinityToday’s message is following on from last week’s word about reconciliation. It’s all to do with forgiveness, and that’s not an easy subject. We know all about it, I’m sure. And especially we know when others have wronged us. When my children were young, they would have disputes often enough. Their quarrels could reach high peaks, when either one or the other would come to me in an exasperated rage, claiming justice, or I simply had enough of their bickering, and told them to stop. The classic, ‘He started it!’ – ‘She was goading me!’ – ‘It’s all her fault!’ – ‘He hurt my arm!’: And another classic: ‘It’s not fair!’ I think it’s all too familiar a picture of the way siblings can behave. But make no mistake: adults can do the same and worse. And when the argument is so heated that there doesn’t seem a way back; when hurtful words turn into physical damage, then often something can literally break. What’s to be done? How do we turn the tide? How can it ever be ‘fair’?Peter, in today’s Gospel thinks he’s worked it out: forgive, yes, but up to a point. Seven times should be enough, he suggests. Seven, after all, is a perfect number, and if one has been able to do it seven times, they should receive a medal for displaying such geniality and goodness. But it turns out that Peter has been too short-sighted when it comes to forgive someone else: Jesus’ reply is much wider in showing mercy: ‘Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.’ In other words: don’t count; don’t keep a score of wrongs, but forgive from the heart, each time the offender says ‘sorry’. Of course, forgiveness is never cheap. We know that sometimes an apology is offered insincerely: ‘Sorry if I have done/said those things.’ A ‘sorry’ that says ‘if’ is no real apology at all. It is in effect saying that ‘actually, I don’t think I did anything wrong, so the offense is in your imagination.’ And that is no apology. Also, it’s very difficult to forgive if there’s no apology at all. And still, it is important to forgive. Why? Well, here’s a few observations:One of the most important things we can do for others is to forgive their wrongs. And it’s also the most difficult. We’re often so full of the pain and injustice that has been inflicted upon us that we even say, ‘I can forgive, but I cannot forget.’ Hmm. I wonder, if that’s the case, many a time when forgiveness has been professed, while deep down in the heart of the person saying the words, there is a lingering resentment at having to let go. Because forgiving means letting go. Letting go of the pain and refusing to let the power of the wrong continue to hurt any more. What many don’t see is that failing to forgive is giving power to the wrongdoer to continue to hurt, even long after the incident. It is in fact damaging yourself.Somebody has said that whenever we point the finger at someone, three fingers are pointing back at ourselves. And that’s not clever. Forgiveness sets people free. Especially when it is freely offered, without restrictions. The illustrations of the story of Joseph and his brothers in Genesis 50 and the parable that Jesus told about the king who forgives a huge debt but his servant does not forgive a fellow servant’s minor debt – all help us see the wideness of God’s mercy that we are called to reflect in the way we treat others. It’s often ‘not fair’, although, if you think about it: The Lord’s Prayer says,Forgive us our sins/trespasses, as we forgive those who sin/trespass against us.It is saying that we ask to be forgiven to the measure in which we ourselves forgive. And that means that if we forgive little, we are asking to be forgiven little. That can’t be what we want, can it? Nor is it what God set out to do when he sent his Son. We have received life – LIFE! – through what Jesus did for us. How much more, then, should we be prepared to forgive others. And be set free.Let us pray:Heavenly Father, help us to forgive, especially when we find it hard to let go, so that we too may be free and rejoice in the life that you give. Asking it in Jesus’ name. Amen.
Click here for Astrid's video messageMatthew 18:15-20 Romans 13:8-end13th Sunday after TrinityThere’s an interesting juxtaposition in today’s readings: Matthew’s Gospel and the letter to the Romans talking about what it means to love in the Christian sense, one from the point of discord and one from the point of harmony.Jesus’ words from Matthew 18 tell us that a dispute among believers should be handled with care and compassion, but, equally, that there is no remedy for those who don’t wish to accept responsibility for their actions. That there is a limit to grace if it’s not accepted.Paul, in his letter to the Romans chapter 13, speaks about the love we owe to one another: ‘Love does no wrong to a neighbour’. And then he finishes this part by saying that we need to live responsibly, as if always in the light.Love, dispute, how do they relate? And what do we learn from all this?It’s always struck me that the best stories are those about redemption. Where everything goes wrong at first, but turns out well at the end. How people are coming through pain to perfection. Sometimes with the scars to prove it, but scars that have turned into signs of hope.I have to confess that I am not a fan of soap operas. For one, I can’t believe the slow pace of some and why the characters would do certain things. And I marvel at the patience of others, who are happy to watch how, after twenty episodes, they are still only at their second cup of tea. But then, I am probably being unkind. And I have learned that these stories do have something helpful to say.First of all, they often include scenes of conflict: painful disagreements between family members and close friends, who then find that the solution to the problems is honestly opening up the situation by talking things through. This requires courage in laying it out on the table. Then, once all parties have been able to explain, confess and forgive, there is a way forward, in the renewal of relationship. Reconciliation is possible when two people or parties address a situation with honesty and humbly take responsibility. It’s what Jesus talks about in the Gospel, and what is also addressed in the epistles of the New Testament. Perhaps we could say: it’s the whole issue of humankind and what the Bible has been written to address, reconciliation mainly between God and human beings and between people.Secondly, stories of redemption, including the soaps, offer a view of what it means to love. They say that love heals all wounds, in the course of time. I don’t want to overemphasize sentimentality, and I recognize that we can see those things in ways that are too simplistic. But we can see that living in the light means living in love. That means giving up on selfish desires that hurt others as well as ourselves in the long run. It means forgiving and moving on.Reconciliation is a huge issue at the moment. On the larger scale, in society, but also in smaller communities and in families. Black Lives Matter; Extinction Rebellion; civil unrest and refugees trying to escape death. Destitution, poverty, abuse, inequality – where does it all end? Maybe we should ask: where does the end begin? Maybe it begins here:‘Where two or three are gathered in my [Jesus’] name, I am there among them.’ ‘If two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven.’ ‘Love the Lord your God, and love your neighbour as yourself.’ ‘Love is the fulfilling of the law’. I didn’t think this up myself, and all the soaps in the world couldn’t say it better. But we would do well to listen, and see where the word of God himself is pointing: a new way of living, in harmony and peace, with him and our neighbours.Let us pray, in the words of the hymn:Lord, make me a channel of your peace.Where there is hatred, let me bring your love.Where there is injury, your pardon, Lord,And where there’s doubt, true faith in you.O Master, grant that I may never seekSo much to be consoled as to console;To be understood, as to understand;To be loved, as to love with all my soul.Amen.
Click here for Astrid's video messageMatthew 16:21-28 Romans 12:9-21The cost of following JesusThere’s a saying in Dutch that says, basically, ‘only the sun comes up for nothing’. In other words: you have to pay for everything except the sun; that’s for free. It’s somewhat equivalent to saying that there’s no such thing as a free lunch. I suppose we’re all pretty smart when it comes to appreciate cost; we tend to put a higher value on things that are rare and therefore more expensive. Those who attend the Antiques Roadshow or Flog It bring their items, sometimes to learn more about them, but also because they want to know ‘what’s it worth!’. And there it becomes important to know whether something is the real thing. So, how do we know? Do we know it’s real because we paid a lot of money for it? Or do we know it’s real because others would like to have it? In trade the rule for assessing value is desirability that pushes the price. But when it’s not about an actual object, how do we decide? It’s not my aim to go deeper into the intricacies of economic value and trade, but we have seen some peculiarities about it in recent times: remember toilet paper? How many people saw the beginning of lockdown as a cue for hording loo rolls? Then there was the apparent shortage of flour – for baking. The more people had to stay at home, the more they began to bake. It was probably lovely to taste all those new cakes, but it might not have done much for our waistlines. Or, perhaps I should say, it’s done a lot to our waistlines…!In any case, there’s a cost to be paid for everything, and we tend to be fine with a higher price for a greater gain. How different, then, do Jesus’ words sound from the Bible passage for today from Matthew 16! Here, it’s all upside-down: to save your life you need to lose it; to follow Jesus you need to deny yourself and take up your cross. And the reason is this: there is no price that we could ever pay in order to become a disciple of Christ. There simply isn’t enough money in the world to cover the cost of discipleship, or better put: discipleship has no price that could be paid in monetary terms. Nor can we ever be saved by doing ‘good things’.That could be a bit of a blow to some. Wouldn’t it be much easier if we could just ‘pay’ in some way to become a Christian? Would it not be more sophisticated to be known as a follower of Christ because we were willing and able to lay out the cash? Well, that would make the Church a place for the elite; and it certainly wasn’t God’s plan to organise the Church like that at all. Neither money nor good works can get anybody to heaven. It reminds me of what military marches would sometimes sing, with the leader singing a line, and the others echoing it::Leader: No, you can’t to heaven – (group echo) no you can’t go to heavenIn a baked bean tin – (echo)‘cause a baked bean tin – (echo)Has got baked beans in – etc.And you can’t go to heavenIn a white sports car‘cause a white sports carWon’t get that farYou could continue that song with all sorts of images like that. There’s no way you could find your way to heaven without Jesus. The last shall be first in the kingdom of God. Jesus again turns things upside down. He confounds the wishes of His closest friends, so as not to be tempted to take the easy way out. Peter didn’t understand it – we wouldn’t have either. For who can understand without the enlightenment of God Himself, after the events that were to follow.Take up your cross and follow me, Jesus says. And that’s how you will find your true life. How can this be? Taking up your cross means accepting and being committed to doing God’s will, even when you don’t understand where and how He is leading. It means being active, not passive, in expressing our faith in engaging with the needs of others. It also means obedience and trust.Follow me, says Jesus. The baked bean tin, the white sports car, but also the paper boat (won’t stay afloat) and any other surrogate or escape route we can think of, will not work. Only Jesus works. And when we work with him, we can see the Son of Man in his kingdom as, through faith, communities are changed. Amen.
