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Maundy Thursday Sermon 2019 – First of Three sermons preached by Revd. Canon Colin Williams – ex Archdeacon of the Diocese in Europe

It happened on a winter’s Sunday afternoon about fifteen years ago.  Quite a long time ago.  But still an occasion which I recall with relish.  At the time I was living and working in the NW of England.  I was an Archdeacon then too. But in those days my title was Archdeacon of Lancaster

 

In my official capacity as Archdeacon of Lancaster, I had  been invited to a special service at our local cathedral One of the privilege that I had been given for that afternoon was a parking space marked ‘Archdeacon of Lancaster’ So I drove round the car park until I: could find it . and then I moved into the space

Now my car wasn’t anything special  in fact it was small, it was a few years old  and certainly in need of a good wash.   The car park was being patrolled by a woman who turned out to be rather officious. And when she saw this dirty beaten up old car being driven into this special place she obviously thought I was some sort of yokel up from the sticks, trying to steal a place which wasn’t rightfully mine.

As I got out of the car she came to me and wagged her finer ‘You can’t park there she said, that’s reserved for the Archdeacon.

Well, the chance was too good to miss.  I took my time.  I turned away, locked the car, got my stuff out of the boot and then drew my self up to my full five feet 11 and a half, looked her in the eye and said something I had been dying to have the chance to say for years.  Madam, I said, Madam,  I am the Archdeacon.

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Trinity 25, 18th November 2018: Daniel 12: 1-3; Hebrews 10: 11-14, 19-25; Mark 13: 1-8

Fr James Harris

 

I want to take you on a journey of the imagination this morning. So, if you’re sitting comfortably, we will begin…

 

Our imagined scene takes place somewhere on the shores of the Sea of Galilee in the province of Judea in what today would be called the year 30 AD or what the Jews of the time might have calculated as something like the 3,791st year of the Era of the World – i.e. since Creation.

 

It’s a fertile place, not like the deserts down south; sheep and goats are bleating, the whiff of fresh fish coming on the breeze from the shoreline where the fishermen sort their catch. The small town of white, low rise buildings nestles on the hillside and this is where you, a faithful Jew, have grown up.

 

In the centre of the town is a small synagogue where, week by week, for as long as you can remember, you have seen the great scrolls unrolled and the scriptures read – wonderful, ancient, inspiring histories recounting God’s faithfulness to his people, and prophecies of the time when he will send his chosen one, his Messiah to save and to set free. Prophecies like that of Daniel who talks so powerfully of this moment when a new age will dawn for God’s people here on earth. It won’t be without drama – when is it otherwise with God? – but it will mean blessing for the faithful who endure. Daniel even talks about people rising from the dead on that day. Now that’s really weird; no other scriptures talk about that possibility. Earthly life – work, family, harvest – is where you hope for God’s blessing, not once you’re dead.

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