Courage in adversity

Matthew 24.9-13

On March 7, the Church remembers Perpetua, Felicity, and their Companions, perhaps not widely known saints of God, but whose courage in adversity was in important factor in the life of the early Church.

Perpetua was a young, married noblewoman of Carthage and Felicity was her personal slave. Along with a small group of companions, they were arrested by the Roman authorities. When in prison, Perpetua had a vision in which she climbed a great ladder into paradise.

They were condemned as Christians and sent to the public arena for execution. All survived the mauling by wild animals, and so were killed by the sword. Before their deaths, they exchanged the kiss of peace and affirmed their faith in Christ, the Son of God.

The story of what happened circulated widely in secret throughout the Christian congregations, encouraging their fellow Christians in the face of suffering and adversity. They were martyred for their faith on this day in the year 203.’

The courage of these early followers of Jesus Christ is astonishing, as is the courage of the countless Christians who have suffered and died for their faith in the past two thousand years. Sadly, Christians continue to die as martyrs in countries across the world, rather than deny their Lord.

We should not be surprised. Jesus himself told his followers to expect persecution in his name, saying: ‘They will hand you over to be tortured and will put you to death, and you will be hated by all nations because of my name . . . But the one who endures to the end will be saved’ (Matthew 24.9-13).

Nevertheless, it is a disturbing and challenging thought for all who live the Christian life. God’s love for us is freely given and unconditional, but the responsibility is then ours to live out our lives according to the values of the kingdom that was ushered in by Jesus Christ.

Such values will sometimes conflict with the values of the world, requiring us to stand up for them and face the consequences. Thankfully we’ll not be thrown to wild beasts or killed with the sword like Perpetua, Felicity, and their Companions, though there will be a price to pay.

Standing up for our faith will bear a cost. Misunderstanding, ridicule, prejudice are just some of the negative responses we might face from others for holding our ground. There will be occasions when it seems as though we are swimming against the tide of popular opinion because of the choices we make.

When such times come, don’t be discouraged. Instead draw strength from the example of all those who have gone before us, and especially from the martyrs. For nothing can separate us from God’s love, not even the very worst that the world can throw at us. Following the example of Perpetua, Felicity, and their Companions, may we find courage in adversity.

Don’t be afraid, just ask

Mark 7.24-30

This story about a Syrophoenician woman making a request of Jesus is, on first impressions, difficult to hear. It casts Jesus in a somewhat disparaging light due to his attitude towards the woman. She was a Gentile and, at this point in the gospel, the focus of Jesus was on the people of Israel but, nevertheless, his words still sound harsh.

The woman was desperate to find help for her daughter, who was possessed by an unclean spirit. On hearing that Jesus was in the vicinity she made her way to him and begged for his help. Jesus’ sharp response was: ‘Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.’ To call someone a dog was a considerable insult, and there might well have been some within the Jewish community of the time, who would have had no hesitation in describing those on the outside as dogs.

As a product of his culture and society, maybe this was how Jesus himself was responding, though his ministry broadens to include all people as the gospel account progresses. But equally, Jesus might have said what he did to the woman with a smile on his face and with a sense of irony, having already moved on in his own mind beyond the parochialism of some sections of first-century Judaism, and was testing out the woman’s response.

Maybe Jesus clearly saw that, for the woman, it was irrelevant whether the person who could bring about healing for her daughter was Jew or Gentile. What mattered was her love for her daughter. So she responds to Jesus with the words: ‘Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.’ Jesus replies: ‘For saying that, you may go – the demon has left your daughter.’ The barrier between Jew and Gentile was broken down, and God’s healing power demonstrated as something that cannot be contained by human prejudice.

We should not underestimate the boldness and courage of the Syrophoenician woman in approaching Jesus as she did then as an outsider. Now we know that for Jesus there are no outsiders, and the story is a reminder to us that the love, compassion, and healing power of Jesus are available to all who are open to receive it. Whomever, whenever, wherever. No exclusions, no exceptions.

For anyone needing the healing touch of Jesus in their lives, all that is needed is the courage to step forward and ask. Don’t be afraid, just ask.

Courage through a painful chapter

John 12.20-26

Today (May 4), the Church of England commemorates the English Saints and Martyrs of the Reformation, remembering all who witnessed to their Christian faith during the conflicts in church and state. These conflicts lasted from the 14th to the 17th centuries but were at their most intense in the 16th century.

The reform movement was aimed chiefly at the excesses of the papacy, but many holy Christian men and women suffered for their allegiance to what they believed to be the truth of the gospel. As the movement grew, it suffered its own internal struggles, with one group determined that they were keepers of the truth and that all others were therefore at best in a state of ignorance and worst heretical. Tragically, Catholics and Protestants alike suffered martyrdom at each other’s hands for holding fast to what they deemed to be the truth.

In the 20th century, ecumenical links drew the churches closer to each other in faith and worship and all now recognise both the good and evil that evolved from the Reformation Era, that painful chapter in the history of the Church long since closed. We do, however, remember the courage of all who suffered martyrdom during that time, and the legacy of their faith to future generations. How we die, as well as how we live our lives matters, the most important thing in both cases being our faithfulness to Christ – something to which the gospel reading points.

In relation to his own impending death, Jesus uses the analogy of a seed: ‘Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life will lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honour.’

The 2nd century Church Father, Tertullian, spoke of the blood of the martyrs as being the seed of the church. There is then, something profound about a person’s willingness to lay down their life for the sake of the gospel, and through God’s providence, what seems to the world like loss is a gain for the kingdom of God. Martyrdom is not something to be sought out but is, for some the price of remaining loyal to Jesus Christ, when faced with those whom they believe would seek to obliterate all that he stands for.

And so, albeit from a painful chapter of church history, it is right that we remember the courage and faith of English Saints and Martyrs of the Reformation, as well as Christian martyrs of every age – even our own.

Have courage, and don’t lose heart

Luke 21.20-28

By the time Luke’s gospel was written, perhaps around 85AD, decades had passed since the death and resurrection of Jesus. Also, the destruction of Jerusalem and the Jewish Temple had taken place at the hands of the Romans in 70AD. Luke and his contemporaries had come through a time of immense upheaval, political and religious, and were still living in dangerous and uncertain times. Persecution was a fact of life for those early followers of Jesus, their values and beliefs perceived as a threat to Imperial Rome and also to the Judaism from which Christianity emerged.

This was the context in which Luke set out his record of the life and ministry of Jesus, and it no doubt helped to shape his recollection of all that Jesus spoke about during his lifetime. In today’s gospel reading, Jesus warns about the impending destruction of Jerusalem and all that it would mean for those caught up in it. Knowing the dangerous political turmoil of the time, and the tendency for Rome to crush opposition mercilessly Jesus knew what was coming; his words were not so much prophetic as reading the signs of the times. The authenticity of Jesus’ words would have been even more apparent to Luke in the aftermath of Jerusalem’s devastation, and it is important for us to bear in mind that, in the first instance, these verses speak of the events of that first century.

There is also, however, a legitimacy in using these words of Jesus in relation to the anguish and turmoil of our world, not just the world of first century Palestine. There is, indeed, ‘much foreboding of what is coming upon the world’, as Luke puts it. The very same fears and anxieties about the future of which Jesus spoke in relation to what lay ahead for Jerusalem manifest themselves today as we look at current events. How will the war in Ukraine end? What will happen to the planet if we fail to address the climate emergency? How will the poorest members of society get through this cost-of-living crisis? The list goes on, and it would be easy to become overwhelmed with all that confronts us in the world, in our nation, and in our local communities.

In such times, we do well to listen again to the words of Jesus as an encouragement to us, as they were to those hearing them for the first time in Luke’s account. After speaking about the trials and tribulations that the people of his day would face, Jesus said: ‘Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.’ In other words, have courage and don’t lose heart. We are held safely in God’s hands, and whatever this world brings will never separate us from God’s love: not even death, as the resurrection of Jesus testifies. God has things under control, and one day all will be well.

As we enter the season of Advent on Sunday, we will reflect again on our Lord’s first coming, and also on the promise of his second coming in glory. We don’t know when that will be, but the signs that we see in our world and the turmoil that surrounds us are a constant reminder for to us to live our lives in faithful service to our Lord. Let those things be an encouragement to live every day as if it is our last before we come face to face with the Lord in glory, not least because one day we will be right.

Taking stock

Deuteronomy 30.15-end; Luke 9.22-25

As we head into Lent, for the third year running we are once again facing unprecedented challenges. In 2020 and 2021 our lives had been interrupted in ways that none of us could have imagined as Covid-19 brought devastation to the world. Now, in 2022 and with the pandemic still far from over there is a dreadful war in Europe, the ramifications of which cannot be overestimated. Now, perhaps more than at any other time in our lives, Lent invites us to take stock of what really matters.

Always a season for reflection upon our life and an opportunity to take our spiritual temperature, this year we must also incorporate into that period of self-examination the impact of the events in Ukraine, and the existential threat post to us all by the evident instability of President Putin. How, I wonder, has our faith been disturbed, challenged, rocked, or maybe even strengthened through all that has taken place over the past 12 months, and particularly as a result of the Russian invasion of Ukraine?

As always, we can turn to the Bible for encouragement and inspiration. Both of today’s readings remind us that being faithful to God requires us to make choices in the midst of whatever life throws at us, including the unexpected things that come our way, even a pandemic, even wars and rumours of wars.

In the eucharistic readings set for today, the first from Deuteronomy recalls the words of Moses to the people of Israel as he conveys the implications of God’s renewal of the covenant. At the end of a long and eventful life that knew much hardship and suffering, Moses exhorts the people to be faithful to the commandments of the Lord, thereby choosing life and blessings over death and curses.

The point Moses was stressing was that life would bring distractions that would often seem to be the easier option but which would have disastrous consequences if following them meant turning away from God. Choose life, he urges.

In the gospel reading from Luke, Jesus declares to his followers what will be required of them if they choose to follow him. It will mean taking up their cross daily, and even being willing to lose their life for his sake. What will it profit them, he says, if they gain the whole world, but lose or forfeit themselves in the process?

What both readings point us to is a simple, yet profound truth for life, and it is this: What matters more than anything else is our faithfulness to God because from that, everything else flows. It will not always be easy and sometimes it will be costly, but living as the people God calls us to be enables the love of God to flow in us and through us to others and that, ultimately, is the source of our contentment and happiness.

Being faithful to God’s call upon us is also the source of our hope, certain in the knowledge that whatever the future holds, nothing can separate us from God’s love for us in Jesus Christ. And that is what we can be at such a time as this: carriers of hope into a world where there is so much fear and despair.

This Lent faces with another challenge that none of us could have anticipated a year ago, and that is to walk our journey of faith resolutely through this dark season of sorrow and suffering. Trusting in the mercy and compassion of God to help us travel through this Lent with courage for the present, hope for better days, and making the everyday choices that enable us to grow in faith and love.

So as we head into this great season of Lent, may we recommit ourselves to take stock of our lives and our relationship, to take up or cross daily and, in all things, to choose life.

Remembering Archbishop Luwum

John 12.24-32

Today (February 17) in the calendar of the Church of England we remember Janani Luwum, Bishop of North Uganda from 1969, and then Archbishop of Uganda from 1974 until 1977. For much of the time that he was a bishop, Uganda was ruled ruthlessly by Idi Amin, a British-educated army general who seized power following a military coup in 1971.

Amin’s rule was undemocratic and harsh to the extent of torture and the execution of anyone with the audacity to oppose his regime. Following the publication of a critical letter from the bishops that condemned Amin for the murderous actions of the state, Archbishop Luwum and two of Amin’s own government ministers were initially stated as having been found dead following a car accident. What emerged soon after was the fact that they had been killed on the implicit instructions of the president.

Janani Luwum is now remembered as a Christian martyr by the Anglican Church, one who gave his life for what he believed in, which was to follow in the footsteps of Jesus Christ by living courageously and selflessly in the face of evil and on the side of justice. His statue has a rightful place among the Twentieth Century Martyrs on the façade of Westminster Abbey.

In the gospel reading set for the day, Jesus is speaking to his disciples with his own impending death very much in mind. While not seeking martyrdom Jesus knew that what he was saying and doing by challenging the oppressive powers of his day would bring him into conflict with the authorities, and that there could only be one outcome if he stood firm. The cross loomed.

Jesus uses the imagery of a seed falling into the ground and dying, but which through dying bears much fruit, to encourage his followers (and probably himself as well) of the need to stand firm in their faith in the face of evil, even if that meant suffering and death.

Tertullian, an early Christian writer once wrote something, since paraphrased as ‘The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church’. While not an encouragement for any Christian to actively pursue martyrdom, the point being made was that the testimony and witness of those who have been killed for living their lives as faithful followers of Jesus Christ by those opposed to his message, remain as an in inspiration to all who come after.

Across 2,000 years and down to the present day, countless Christians have stood firm in the face of the most fierce persecution the world can throw at them, even at the cost of their very lives. Inspired by those who had gone before, and firm in the hope of eternal life they became like those seeds of which Jesus spoke, their lives not lived in vain but bearing much fruit.

One of those seeds was Archbishop Janani Luwum, martyred for his faith on this day in 1977, aged 55. Let us remember his life and legacy with thankful hearts, and draw strength from his courageous witness to the love of Jesus Christ.

As our Lord said: ‘Very truly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.’

Courage to ask

Mark 7.24-30

The story of the Syrophoenician woman’s faith in Mark’s gospel is, on first impressions, difficult to hear. It seems to cast Jesus in a somewhat disparaging light due to his attitude towards the woman. She was a Gentile and, what is important to remember at this point in the gospel, the focus of Jesus was very much on the people of Israel.

Nevertheless, his words still sound harsh. This woman had a daughter who was possessed by an unclean spirit and she was desperate to find help. On hearing that Jesus was in the vicinity she made her way to him and begged for him to rid her daughter of the demon.

Jesus’ response was: ‘Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.’ To call someone a dog was a considerable insult, and there might well have been some within the Jewish community of the time, who would have had no hesitation in describing those on the outside as dogs.

A product of his culture and society, maybe this was how Jesus himself was responding, though his ministry broadens as the gospel account progresses. But, equally, he might have said what he did to the woman with a smile on his face and with a sense of irony.

Perhaps Jesus had already moved in his own mind beyond the parochialism of some sections of first-century Judaism, and was testing out the woman’s response. Maybe Jesus saw clearly that, for her, it was irrelevant whether the person who could bring about healing for her daughter was Jew or Gentile. What mattered was her love for her daughter.

So she responds to Jesus with the words: ‘Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.’ Jesus replies: ‘For saying that, you may go – the demon has left your daughter.’ The barrier between Jew and Gentile was broken down and God’s healing power demonstrated as something that cannot be contained by any walls that human beings might build.

We should not underestimate the boldness of the Syrophoenician woman in approaching Jesus as she did then as an outsider. We know now that for Jesus there are no outsiders and the story is a reminder to us that the love, compassion, and healing power of Jesus are available to all who are open to receive it. Whomever, whenever, wherever. No exclusions, no exceptions.

What is needed is simply the courage to step forward and ask.

God is still with us

Luke 15.1-10

I wonder how all that is taking place with regard to the climate emergency is affecting you at present. The COP26 conference in Glasgow is in full swing and, understandably, information is coming at us in copious amounts from all directions. Every news bulletin, every newspaper headline, every social media channel is full of comments, statements and projections about whether or not the leaders of the nations will take the right decisions to help ease the crisis.

The heating up of the planet is, of course, the most pressing concern of our time and greater, even, than the Covid-19 pandemic which is still far from over. It is only right that we are all informed and encouraged to take whatever steps we can to safeguard the earth for our children and grandchildren, and for generations yet to be born. That said, we must be careful to look after ourselves at this time because it would be very easy to end up feeling overwhelmed and lost, swept along by currents over which we have little or no control.

Perhaps now, more than ever, it is a time to remind ourselves that God is with us in the middle of the frightening turmoil that surrounds us. We are not alone and we are not lost. The Risen Christ remains beside and present with each of us in whatever circumstances we find ourselves. He is with us in what sometimes feels like a desert of uncertainty about the present and fear for the future.

Today’s gospel reading is, I believe, a timely reminder to us to have courage and not be afraid. Two short parables about being lost and found: The Parable of the Lost Sheep, and the Parable of the Lost Coin.

The first parable speaks of a shepherd with a hundred sheep. On finding that one is missing, he leaves the 99 behind and sets out to find the lost sheep. In terms of shepherding it is an unlikely story as, no doubt, wolves would take their pick of the 99 left unattended. The point being made by the parable was that every single sheep matters to the shepherd. Without it the flock is incomplete.

The second parable tells of a woman with ten silver coins who loses one. She lights a lamp and searches diligently to find the lost coin. Again, the emphasis is on completeness and the longing to find that which is lost.

In both cases, with the shepherd and with the woman, there is rejoicing when that which was lost is found. The parables are images of God’s longing to gather in all who are distant from knowing God’s love for whatever reason. No-one is beyond the reach of that love and God never ceases to search diligently for those who are feeling lost and afraid. There is always a way back home.

So, as we move ahead in the weeks and months and years, living with so much uncertainty and apprehension about the climate changes that are already affecting our world, as well as what might still lay in store for us, let us not become lost in any desert of despair but open our hearts for God’s love to find us, as God surely will.

May these two parables speak to us in the depths of our being to remind us that God is still with us. God knows us; God knows where we are; God knows the anguish of our hearts. This day, may we know and trust that God is right beside us, and will never leave our side throughout this tumultuous time for our planet; and from that conviction may we find the courage and determination to play our own small part in bringing about the changes that are needed.

St Simon and St Jude – faithful followers

John 15.17-27

If I were to ask you to name the 12 apostles of Jesus as recorded in the gospels, my guess is that names such as Peter, James, John, Matthew, Thomas, and perhaps Judas Iscariot, would come to mind more readily than the two whom we celebrate today: St Simon and St Jude.

They have less press coverage, as it were, in the pages of the New Testament than some of their more famous colleagues from within the apostolic band. Nevertheless, they are part of that small band of followers who stayed close to Jesus through his earthly ministry – except from the period of his arrest and crucifixion, when most made themselves scarce – so it is right that we remember and honour the life and legacy of Simon and Jude to the Church.

Simon was known as ‘the Zealot’, not necessarily a description of his character but probably because he belonged to a resistance movement that resented and opposed the occupying forces of Rome. As the gospels were all written well after the crucifixion of Jesus there is no way of knowing for sure whether Simon left the Zealot party after becoming a follower of Jesus, or whether he remained a member and saw it as part of his response to proclaim the kingdom.

Luke describes Jude as the son of James, while the Letter of Jude has him as the brother of James, both of which could be true as the name was not uncommon. Jude is also known as Thaddaeus, which may have been a last name. Perhaps due to the similarity of his name with Judas Iscariot, the betrayer of Jesus, it seems that Jude was rarely invoked in prayer and only as a last resort. Jude thus became known within the Christian tradition as the patron saint of lost causes.

We have no way of knowing for sure exactly what befell Simon and Jude, though the most commonly accepted tradition is that, after Jesus’ ascension, Simon and Jude travelled and preached the gospel separately, before jointly evangelising in the Mediterranean and the Middle East. They were martyred around the year 65 thought it is not sure where exactly, with claims made for Lebanon, Persia, and Armenia.

Simon and Jude are commemorated together on October 28 because a church which had acquired their relics was dedicated to their memory in Rome on this day in the 7th century.

What we do know for sure about these two men, is that the words spoken to them by Jesus – including what is recorded by John in today’s gospel – took root deep in their hearts and shaped the future direction of their lives. Their faithfulness brought with it the persecution and suffering foretold by Jesus, even to the point of death.

For all of us who follow Jesus Christ there is a cost, and even though for most that does not mean martyrdom, for all of us our faith will make demands upon us as we seek to embody and live out the values of the kingdom of God in a world which often marches to the beat of a very different drum.

So, when we are finding it hard to be faithful followers of Christ in a hostile world, may we look to such heroes of faith as Simon and Jude, and be strengthened in our resolve.

St Simon and St Jude, pray for us.

Courage and lament

Around the middle of Luke’s gospel, in chapter 13.31-35, is a short section that captures something of a twofold nature in the ministry of Jesus. He confronts the threat of the powers that are moving against him, and laments over those whom God has called but who have turned away.

Interestingly, in verse 31, it is some of the Pharisees who come to warn Jesus of the danger from Herod who is seeking to kill him. The Pharisees, religious leaders, get a bad press in the gospels though clearly not all of them were hostile towards Jesus. That is the danger of generalisations.

Jesus’ reply to these Pharisees was courageous. He tells them to report back to Herod, ‘that fox’ as he describes him, that only in his own good time will he move on, having accomplished the mission to which he was called.

Then Luke records Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem: ‘Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!’

It is a powerful image. Tom Wright speaks of instances where in the aftermath of a farmyard fire, those clearing up have found live chicks sheltering under the wings of a scorched and blackened dead hen. Such is the love of God in Christ for God’s people, as would become evident supremely in the death of Christ on the cross.

Those two emphases in this brief gospel passage, courage and lament, reveal two important, inter-related insights into Jesus’ life and ministry and, by extension, our own as those who are his followers.

Much will come our way life that is disturbing and frightening that will challenge our faith to the core. Hostility towards what we believe, illness, bereavement and other losses, to name but a few. Standing firm in faith, drawing strength from the example of Jesus Christ, is the source of our courage not to give in or give up.

Coupled with that, and often the driving force, for how we live out our faith authentically is the power of lament. Essentially, that is how we are moved in the depths of our being to sorrow for our suffering world and, through it, inspired to action in bringing about change.

That might be in the context of personal relationships, church congregations, local community issues, national concerns or global needs. Lament is not something passive, but a deep experience of the heart and mind which becomes the catalyst for action, and a rich source of courage not to turn away from the flames of opposition that come our way in life.

May we follow faithfully the example our Lord in lamenting for the pain and suffering of the world and confronting courageously the causes of such.