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.

But, who knows, for the God who miraculously rescued your forebears from slavery in Egypt by making a way through the Red Sea, maybe even resurrection is possible. Never say never, where God is concerned.

 

And, goodness knows, you could do with a liberator right now. This peaceful idyll has been occupied by the Romans for the best part of a century now. Raucous soldiers on leave disturb the peace in the market place and the tax collectors at their booths are a permanent reminder of the dues you are forced to render to this remote, invisible Emperor who they claim is a God and lives in untold luxury hundreds of miles away, luxury earned on the back of your hard graft.

 

***

 

Now, fast forward three years or so – and it’s almost Passover. Your favourite time of the year. Time to make the usual trip to Jerusalem to celebrate. The journey there is part of the experience, walking together, singing psalms of praise to God as you climb up and up to the great city. ‘I was glad when they said to me, let us go into the house of the Lord.’ What a classic. That’s what it’s all about – to visit the Temple where God’s presence is housed.

 

Look, you can see it from miles away before you get anywhere near the city walls – it’s the biggest, most lavish building you’ve ever seen, planted high on the rock, the centre of your faith and tradition.

 

[By the way, at this point, I do hope even the least imaginative of you is not having trouble picturing a large, impressive temple on a high rock!]

 

And this year, it’s going to be even better because you’re going with the new teacher who’s arrived on the scene – Jesus, he’s called. He’s changed everything ever since the day he looked you in the eye while he was teaching and said – ‘Who do you think I am?’ His gaze was so penetrating and the question seemed so huge. People were offering different answers but before you knew it, you were agreeing with Peter, that hothead fisherman – ‘You’re the Messiah, the Son of God,’ you heard yourself replying.

This is the moment. This is the time that the Prophets wrote about. As you go through the gates the city, he gets onto a donkey and crowds of people acclaim him and children wave branches. Stuff your distant Roman dictator – this is the King you’ve been waiting for; that those ancient prophets wrote about.

 

And now, here you are outside the Temple – what a sight it is up close – and you say to him: ‘Look at this place, Teacher – look at the size and grandeur of it. Look how it speaks to us of God’s greatness!’

 

And you wait for his response… his agreement… his encouragement… This must be the time!

 

And then…

 

‘This is not the time. And this great building, this is not the place. It won’t last.’

 

What does he mean? If not now, then when? And how will you know?

 

‘Not yet. This is not yet the time. All sorts of things will happen and not all of them pleasant. Those will not be signs of the time either.

 

‘Not yet.’

 

‘In the meantime: keep calm. Carry on. Guard your faith. Do the things I have authorised you to do in my name. Care for each other. Tell others. The Kingdom of God is on its way but the fulfilment is not yet and not in the way you think.’

 

***

 

As we leave that scene and come back to reality in 2018, we can say form history, of course, that the Temple was in fact destroyed 37 years later in 70 AD but by then, it was clear to some, if not all, that the world-changing act of liberation that had been so long awaited had occurred on a barren hillside outside the city walls as the Son of God was executed among common criminals on false charges. But even that was only the start.

 

So often, not unreasonably perhaps, we expect God to act in grand, dramatic, unmissable gestures worthy of a King when the truth that those first Disciples has to understand, just as we do as we sit at the feet of Jesus today, is that the work of the Kingdom is rarely grand and dramatic; it’s often very missable and in fact goes unnoticed by most; it is certainly humble, often dirty and gritty, involves personal sacrifice and cost, and is concerned with the very mundane stuff of day to day life.

 

As we sit here today, the church in this place, we sit, as Tom Wright describes it, where the purposes of God and the pain of the world intersect. In the now-but-not-yet. And it is our God-given mandate to occupy that place and to bring the one aspect – the pain – into conversation with the other – the transformative purposes of God.

 

There are many ways we do that but, in order to do any of it effectively requires, at least until that day when the Lord does return, that most earthly and mundane of resources – money.

 

Money is one of the tools God has provided in order to advance his Kingdom and the bottom line is that, here at St Paul’s, we need more of it.

 

As some of you will have heard Fr Leonard say a few weeks ago, St Paul’s has a good track record of engaging in Kingdom work but the Church Council is concerned that our income is dropping and that the continuing life of the church in this place demands that we fund our common life more generously and more imaginatively. The Council needs your co-operation on this and has agreed a very simple programme to increase our income. We say ‘simple’ because it’s not rocket science, but we acknowledge that it is complicated too, because we know how hard life has become for many in Greece in these days.

 

Here is the programme:

 

• We need all church members to contribute financially to the church every week. No amount is suggested; it must be what you can honestly and realistically afford.

 

• We ask you prayerfully this morning to complete one of the yellow forms in your order of service, pledging whatever the amount is that you will graciously give towards the life of the church. This then becomes your ‘covenant’ with God.

 

• Most importantly, we ask you to opt to give this amount on a monthly basis using the envelope scheme, thus prompting each of us to give what we have pledged on a weekly basis even if we may physically be away from Athens for many weeks at a time.

 

• If you’re unsure how the envelope scheme works, or if you would find it better to make your weekly or monthly donation by bank transfer, please talk to the Treasurer who will be available after the service.

 

• We are also introducing Thanksgiving Offering envelopes, a suggestion that came from our African Council members. If there is a special occasion, an anniversary perhaps, or any blessing for which to give thanks, then these envelopes will be available every week so you can show your thankfulness for God’s bounty in our lives. If friends or family join us on these occasions, they can also be given one of these envelopes. If you let us know in advance, we can even arrange a special Thanksgiving Procession for this offering to be brought to the altar.

 

• Lastly, we are working to develop a network of ‘Ambassadors for St Paul’s’, capitalising on some of the contacts we make with visitors and overseas groups. Please note, this is distinct from the work of the Friends of St Paul’s.

 

In a few minutes, just before the Intercessions, we will have period of silence so we can all prayerfully and thoughtfully complete one of the forms. Please put your completed forms into the collection bag at the time of the collection.

 

Obviously it goes without saying that, if you completed a form a few weeks ago when Fr Leonard preached, you are not required to do so again. But I would add that, if you are already a regular giver, whilst thanking you sincerely for what you have given to date, perhaps you might use this time to review the amount you give and consider whether an increase may be due.

 

***

 

I want to end with a story which is recounted by a friend of mine in the UK, Emma, whose formative years were spent in the small Welsh Valley town of Maesteg.

 

Emma would be the first to admit that Maesteg doesn’t have a lot to commend it other than the fact that, for a short while at the turn of the 20th century, it was the epicentre of what came to be known as the Welsh Revival. At its height, in 1904, in one year, over 100,000 women, men and children, made a commitment to Christ.

 

During that period, apparently, police reported nothing to do; magistrates’ courts were empty and even the pit ponies reportedly lived longer because they were better cared for. There were gloriously named Chapels such as Bethesda, Ebenezer, Carmel and Zion built on every street corner in town.

But it didn’t last and, today, of course, those chapels are mainly closed, derelict or empty because, just as Jesus was trying to teach his disciples, the true legacy of the revival was not to be found in their bricks and mortar. A policeman of the time summed up what is was really about when two visitors from London came to the Valleys to witness the phenomenon that was taking place.

 

‘Where is the Revival?’ they asked, as they stepped off the train.

 

Turning to them, and raising his hand to rest on the dark blue wool of his breast pocket, the policeman replied [cue best Welsh accent]: ‘Gentlemen, the revival is here, underneath the buttons.’

 

In essence, what we’re asking you to consider today is just that: the faith that lives underneath your buttons; your relationship with the living God and your response to all he means to you in your heart.

 

Yes, practical considerations of budget and affordability are important and necessary considerations but, ultimately, what you decide to pledge will be a covenant you make with God alone for the furthering of his Kingdom of love and mercy, a Kingdom that is nurtured in the willing, sacrificial hearts of his followers, a Kingdom that is birthed, slowly but surely, soul by soul, underneath the buttons. Amen.