26/10/2020 In Sermons & Services

Sermon for Bible Sunday – Last after Trinity, 25th October 2020: : Nehemiah 81-4, 8-12; Matthew 24, 30-35

Revd. Canon Leonard Doolan – St Paul’s Athens

 

We will wear our historical hats for a few minutes this morning as we think about the reading from Nehemiah.

The Babylonians attacked and sacked the city of Jerusalem in the year 587/586BC. This is a pivotal date and a key moment in understanding the literature of the Old Testament – and even some of the imagery in the later New Testament, especially in the Book of Revelation.

When the city is taken, and the walls destroyed, so too the Temple of Solomon that had stood there for some 500 years is also razed to the ground and the holy objects of Jewish worship taken as plunder.

The families of the city – those who mattered at least- were taken captive and transported to Babylon. This is present day Iraq. Here the Jewish families, the tribes, experienced an identity crisis. They are in isolation, both physical and spiritual. The temple, so much at the heart of their worship and religious practices was no more. Their access to the familiar is now disrupted and denied to them.

Goaded by their captors to sing some hymns from the temple, they reflect, ‘By the rivers of Babylon – there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion…For our captors asked us for mirth, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion”. How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land.’ (Psalm 137).

In exile, separated and distanced from the familiar it would be so easy for them to forget. History has shown us that our societies can just as easily develop a corporate amnesia as perpetuate a corporate remembrance.

Sitting as they were by the rivers of Babylon they remind themselves of what they have lost – ‘If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither! Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth, if I do not remember you, if I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy.’ (Psalm 137 vss 5-6).

There is surely a lesson here from the past for us in the present and future. Around the world so many faithful Christians are isolated from gathering together, from being sacramental, and have become virtual members of church instead of physically present members of the Body of Christ. However long this Covid restricts us and distances us from one another and from sharing in the real nature of sacramental Christianity, let’s not forget – let’s not develop a corporate amnesia.

 

But back to the history. In the reign of the Persian King Cyrus a decree was issued that the Hebrew people should be allowed to rebuild their city and temple. This decree was discovered in Ecbatana – a place to become famous later for a battle in the reign of Alexander the Great. Because of the ‘laws of the Medes and Persians’ King Darius is bound to fulfil the command of his predecessor King Cyrus, and so Ezra is despatched to oversee the rebuild and restoration. The book of Ezra and the book of Nehemiah, should really be read as one.

Nehemiah is appointed as Governor of the newly rebuilt city of Jerusalem and the ‘land beyond the river’. The restoration programme had unearthed again the writings of the Law of Moses and it was apparent that in exile the Hebrew people had become detached from their religious heritage, despite their protestations by the rivers of Babylon. They were no longer faithful followers of the Word of Moses. They had lapsed and fallen into a religious apostasy – distance from God.

So Nehemiah relates how Ezra summons the people together. They meet at the Watergate – nothing to do with President Nixon – and with great drama Ezra reminds the people of the historic faith from which they had parted company. They are deeply emotional when they hear this. They stand, and raise their hands upwards, ‘Amen, Amen’ is their cry. They weep when they hear the words of the Lord. Some present were able to interpret for the people what the words truly meant, and the people understood. The people understood.

We are staying with history, but later in the historical religious trajectory. We are in the mid 14th century, and in England. The religion of the nation is Catholic, and the church is all powerful. It is powerful for a number of reasons – property ownership, vast wealth of riches and money. The church controls patronage, it controls penitence, and it controls its dogma of purgatory. But mostly it controls the lives of the people in England, and across Western Europe, by language. The language is Latin, and the only access to worship and the holy books of scripture is through Latin – the scriptures in Latin we call, rather ironically, the Vulgate version. In Latin vulgus means the multitude, the populous, the common mass of people. Latin was hardly the language of the multitude. Latin had caused a distance between the everyday person and God – an apostasy. The Greek scriptures had been translated into this Vulgate version by St. Jerome (Hieronymos in Greek) in Bethlehem. It had been his life’s work. The Vulgate version of the scriptures was the only version in the whole of Western Europe since Jerome in the year 420AD until an Englishman John Wycliffe translated it into the language of the vulgus the people.

Such a movement was happening with scholars and monks all over Western Europe translating the Vulgate into their own language, so that the people could understand – it is the period known as the Reformation.

 

Hearing their holy scriptures in their own native tongue must have brought sheer joy to the ears of the faithful. They were reminded of the basis for their faith, the foundations that had been denied them for so many centuries. They discovered that there had been a corporate amnesia about their personal knowledge of Jesus, and the things written about him. Salvation suddenly became transformed by understanding; it became personal rather than moderated through the power of the church, a church that had been able to exploit and perpetuate ignorance.

In the language of the people, and now also in the hands of the people after Gutenberg invented the printing press in 1495 in Germany, and Caxton just after him in England, faith is transformed.

 

I like to imagine that we can compare these two precious moments; the Books of the Law being read to the people at the Watergate in Jerusalem and hearing the basis of the covenant with God, and these Reformation years of people being able to hear and to read (where they could) the holy scriptures in their own language – ‘understanded of the people’ as older English says.

Today is not only the Last Sunday in the holy season of Trinity, it is designated as Bible Sunday. As we look over the trajectory of history there is so much to be thankful for. We can so readily and easily have or own access to scripture; so easy in fact that in most households that have a bible, it is never opened! That is how easy it is.

I won’t mention any names here – but it is easy to stand outside a church in the city of Washington and hold up a bible for the press cameras. It is another thing to open it, read it, pray with it, struggle with it, let your conduct be guided by it, and your holiness developed by it. If we keep it shut, you and me, we will so easily develop another corporate amnesia. Though bibles are so easy to get, we must never forget how precious these words are – for this reason we still read the scriptures in our worship; we process the gospel book, raising it high to show that we are subject to the yoke of the gospel, and in some churches the page is kissed after the gospel is read, to show that these are such beautiful and precious words. Jesus says, ‘Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. ’ (Matthew 24, 35)

Our collect for today says so much better, and so much more succinctly, what I have been trying to share with you today,

‘Blessed Lord, who caused all holy scriptures to be written for our learning; help us to hear them, to read, mark, learn and inwardly digest them that, through patience, and the comfort of your holy word, we may embrace and forever hold fast the hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Saviour Jesus Christ, who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

 

 

sermon news
21/10/2020 In Sermons & Services

Sermon for the feast of St Luke – 18th October 2020: LUKE 10:1-9, ACTS 16: 6-12

Deacon Christine Saccali – St Paul’s Athens

 

May I speak in the name of the triune God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit

‘ I hate COVID’ Abp Steven said multiplied by 20 times in part of his maiden General Synod address he shared with Abp Justin last month. It was quite shocking to hear as some of the first Abp York’s address to Synod . Many of us feel the same way, though, in fact the pandemic, affecting all – pan dimos, arouses all sorts of feelings and emotions in us which we may or may not express out loud. To name a few: fear, anger, anxiety, hate, uncertainty, loneliness. I expect you can think of more.

Many people feel that nothing will be the same and others sincerely hope it will not and that after the pandemic subsides, God willing, we will have a new normal. Does this include church both with small c and capital C? I think we have to find a new exciting way forward, leaving no one behind, which does not mean abandoning liturgy but learning how to worship together and apart literally and virtually and to adapt and listen to one another which means communication lines must be open and hearts and ears too.

 

In all of this time of change, fear and uncertainty the one sure thing is that God is the same, faithful and unchanging whatever our circumstances. I think one factor in acknowledging our vulnerability and mortality, which we have suddenly been forced to consider over the last months, is that human powers, governments and leaders, were under the impression that they were invincible. Let me tell you only God and His kingdom is invincible.

We are all co-workers in God’s Kingdom not only all the time but in these traumatic times of collective trauma. Our gospel reading set for today St Luke’s day, records the sending out of the seventy and then tells us that the harvest is plentiful but the workers few ο θερισμις  ολιγοι .

We shall be celebrating agricultural Harvest and the associated harvest festival here at St Paul’s next week but today we are thinking of a more figurative harvest. Recently in our readings we have been talking a lot about the vineyard and how it represents Israel and God’s people. Last week we were thinking of judgement in the challenging parable in Matthew of the wedding banquet. It can be also a challenge when we recognise that we have a generous and abundant God who is faithful but we do not always respond with the same generosity with our time, commitment, gifts and talents. I have been encouraged to see how, in the face of hardship and inability to fundraise as usual, we are all working together to contribute to church life in a new and safe way contributing our gifts and finances in diverse ways.

I live in an area surrounded by vineyards and olive groves and the τρυγος harvest of grapes both for eating and moustos to be turned into wine is upon us. I heard one comment on the harvest trigos that it is ζωηφορος life bearing/ giving and that is how it should be with God’s people. Church should be about mutuality and everyone’s well-being whether they are here this morning or listening at home. We cannot grow and support each other unless we are prepared to contribute to Kingdom work in whatever way we can together. We need to practise self-care and care for one another.

 

Well-being and thriving not just surviving is all about mind, body and spirit. The Christian faith looks at the whole person so they and the community can be full of wholeness and wholesomeness. Jesus did just this in his healing miracles and ministry, many of which are recorded in the gospel of Luke the Evangelist , the physician who focuses on the marginalised. The book of Acts is also attributed to Luke and was our first reading today. We know Luke accompanied Paul on missionary journeys putting the gospel into practice, living it out. Let’s listen again to the Collect for St Luke’s day: Almighty God, you called Luke the physician, whose praise is in the gospel, to be an evangelist and physician of the soul: by the grace of the Spirit and through the wholesome medicine of the gospel, give your Church the same love and power to heal; through Jesus Christ your Lord.

 

To this end, and in acknowledgement of healthy, Christian life, later on within this service a liturgy of healing with anointing of oil will be administered to those who wish to come forward, safely observing necessary precautions. In these times, which are so different from usual we need to use technology but also go back to basics. In the absence of physical touch, we need to find other ways of touching people as God touches our lives through the Holy Spirit. I think the absence of touch, especially to those living on their own or far away from loved ones and beloved activities has had a devastating impact on people’s well-being in all its aspects.

All the senses are sacred, but I think touch is particularly holy. Think how many times in the gospel miracles when Jesus physically touches the sick and marginalised in different way. And think of how many times ordinary people want to reach out and touch Jesus or even the hem of his garment for his saving and healing powers. We need to learn how to embrace again in these times. In his book of prayers for everyday life entitled Touched by His Hand Nick Fawcett imagines how every moment of the day and everyone and thing can be imagined as being touched by God.

World mental health day πανκοsμια ημερα ψυχικης υγειας, there is that word soul again, combined with health and wholesomeness was last Saturday the tenth of October. I for one am very grateful that there is less taboo about the subject as i was brought up amongst mental anguish at a time when such trauma was not openly discussed. Would that we could all be open and caring with each other as a healthy church spreading and embracing the gospel into the community at this time of uncertainty, fear and pestilence. Remember the harvest is plentiful but the workers are few.

I end by quoting Lemn Sissay, a favourite poet of mine who underwent a traumatic childhood and adolescence: ” I am not defined by my scars but my ability to heal”.  In the scarred, crucified and resurrected Christ we find our healing. As we are all invited to take our place around his table we say I am not worthy to receive you but only say the word and I shall be healed.

AMEN

 

sermon news
10/10/2020 In Sermons & Services

Trinity 18 – 11th October 2020: : Philippians 4, 1-9; Matthew 22, 1-14.

Revd. Canon Leonard  Doolan – St Paul’s Athens

 

At a religious rally the preacher who was famous for his fire and brimstone sermons addressed the pressing subject of God’s judgement. Among the familiar phrases at such a rally he used the phrase, ‘and there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth’, a phrase he may have picked up from today’s gospel reading in Matthew. Someone in the audience shouted out, ‘but I don’t have any teeth!’ to which the preacher responded, ‘and teeth will be provided’.

Today’s gospel is set within the image of a wedding banquet. This is a popular image in the gospels, and allegorically it is Christ who is usually considered to be the bridegroom of these wedding parables, with the corollary that the bride is his church.

Indeed in the new Marriage ceremony of the Church of England these words ‘Marriage is given that as man and woman grow together in love and trust, they shall be united with one another in heart, body and mind, as Christ is united with his bride, the Church’.

So in this formulary of the Anglican marriage ceremony the connection between bridegroom and bride is overtly stated. It is so plain that you don’t have to read anything into the language to develop the image.

Weddings were great social occasions in cultural life in the setting of the scriptures, indeed they still are in the East and here in Greece. They are huge events, and in smaller villages everyone will turn out to the wedding feast, the marriage banquet. No expense is spared, and the food and drink never seem to run out. When it did run out at a wedding in Cana of Galilee Christ was there as a guest, and he ensured that the wine supply was restored.

READ MORE

sermon news
03/10/2020 In Sermons & Services

Sermon Preached on 27th September 2020 – Creationtide

Deacon Chris Saccali

 

MAY I SPEAK IN THE NAME OF THE LIVING GOD, FATHER, SON AND HOLY SPIRIT.

I had just brought the washing in and was settling down for a siesta when my husband came in holding a photo on his phone. Our granddaughter’s latest escapade, I thought but no it was a picture of a snake basking in the sun on the flagstones! It turned out it was an Ottoman adder after consultation with Google. Now it is a long time since we have found or seen snakes on our property.

Creation and nature seem to be making a come back even though we are told species are dwindling. This is the season of creation from beginning of September through to 4th October St Francis feast day instituted by Patriarch Dimitrios in 1989. This year is entitled Jubilee for the Earth which combines ecological and economic justice. It reveals the truth that our redemption from financial indebtedness and material poverty is inextricably intertwined with the redemption of the land from wanton extraction and pursuit of profit. We are encouraged as Christians to hold a climate Sunday service during this year.

This past week has been international climate week. Prince Charles, a friend to this church and a staunch activist on Climate said this week at the virtual opening: COVID 19 offered a window of opportunity to reset the economy for a more sustainable and inclusive future. He added the pandemic was a wake up call we cannot ignore.Remember Prince Charles suffered himself from COVID earlier in the year.

At the end of August I preached on a lockdown psalm and today it seems appropriate to use another psalm, so relevant in these times when the world seems to be facing a second wave and CO20 summit due to take place later this year has been held over until 2021. This piece is written by Rev Dr David Pickering based on psalm13:

‘How long?’ cries the psalmist, facing seeming abandonment in the face of affliction.

‘How long? ‘Cries the psalmist, expressing as enemies assail.

3,000 years on we too may cry, ‘How long will the shadow of illness surround me or a loved one?

How long shall lockdown separate me from my loved ones?’

‘How long, cries Greta , on behalf of the world’s youth, will we ignore the house on fire?’

‘How long?’ speaks Sir David on behalf of the scientific community, will policy fall short of evidence?’

‘How long, Extinction rebellion prophetically protest, must we wait for a zero –carbon, just and green new normal?’

By articulating their concern the psalmist starts the transforming journey from their hurting hungry, heart.

Their next cry, ‘give light that i may see your light.’

Opens way to a renewed faith and trust in God.

The psalmist’s journey from a problem stated

To action taken, is one of engagement and hope.

It is so in our lives, for the way of healing

Is lined with with care of body, mind and soul,

And the loneliness of lockdown

May  be overcome with phone call, post and messaging.

Liewise, the Greta, Sir David and rebellious prophet within us all being concerned for the well being on earth, know of the imperative that policy follows science,

That personal rights shouldn’t trump community wellbeing. Today’s choices should be mindful of tomorrow’s generations.

We stand as Moses once did overlooking the river to the promised land beyond.

In a post lockdown world do we just gaze over a fictitious land of hope and dreams?

Or do we choose life, setting off to a just and green new normal to which we are called and ultimately born to run?

As heart cries, How long may eyes’ light see through darkness and hope lead the way.

We need to hold on to the Christian promise of hope in these times more than ever and be a beacon of Christ’s light to others and for the world. To this end on 18th September our Diocese in Europe held a service for Creation. You can follow this service on youtube if you missed it. On the very same day I followed it, Greece was watching the progress and path of Ianos the medicane Mediterranean storm. This is a rare weather phenomenon in this part of the world, parts of the plain of Thessaly, a rich normally productive and fertile land will see no harvest this year and maybe for many more. We have also been observing fires across the world and the pandemic , the root of this word meaning pan dimos all population in Greek, has affected us all.

How can scripture connect with this? We declare that Christ is the new creation when we use the words of Philippians as a creed. What we are saying is that only Christ, Son of God, can bring fullness out of emptiness life out of death. This is the meaning of kenotic.

Jesus is not always sweetness and light. Increasingly we have had readings in Matthew’s gospel of justice and fairness and how this applies to all with no exceptions, like the pandemic. In this parable which is told just after Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. He has overturned the money lenders tables outside the temple and his behaviour is challenging the Jewish norms.

 

We have not been promised an easy life or one without challenges to embrace. Creation is groaning and we are still crying how long O Lord? Mankind and creation is facing several challenges at this time. However, we are called as Christians in these times and that means we have to grapple with them. James Baldwin, the American author says: ‘We cannot change everything we face but we have to face it in order to bring change.’

As Christians in the year of our Lord 2020 what does justice across the board look like for mankind and the planet we live on and have been put in charge of by our Maker?

AMEN

sermon news
16/09/2020 In Sermons & Services

Holy Cross Sunday – 13th September 2020: Philippians 2, 6-11; John 3, 13-17

Fr Leonard Doolan – St Paul’s Athens

 

There was nothing remarkable about the day when Jesus from the town of Nazareth was crucified on a hill outside the city wall of Jerusalem.

City life was going on as usual – hustle bustle, trading, noise, the shout of haggling. It was probably a bit manic that day in the street markets because not only was it the day that Sabbath would begin, but that particular year it was also the day before Passover. The residents of Jerusalem were actually occupied with their own dometic concerns. The fact that the Romans were crucifying some criminals and trouble makers was not important enough to detract them from their priorities. Of course, the families and friends of those being crucified would have gathered at Golgotha. Remember, this was not yet ‘Good Friday’ nor a public holiday.

There was nothing remarkable that Jesus of Nazareth was being crucified. His was not a unique punishment. Indeed the gospel narratives tell us of at least 2 others, who were robbers, being crucified alongside him. That doesn’t mean there were not others also. Crucifixion was commonplace. The main road that ran south from the city of Rome was the Via Appia. This Appian Way was the nearest the Roman civilization had to an autobahn, an autostrada, motorway, αυτοκινητόδρομος.

The Appian Way was busy with traffic, merchants, businessmen, traders, in carriages, horseback and on foot. It was normal to see crucified criminals either side of this main road.

 

Crucifixion was one of the normal methods of punishment inflicted by the Roman authorities. It was a horrible death, yes, but the most important feature is that it was very public. It was an overt display of what happened to those who both committed crimes, but also those who threatened the Roman state, either in Italy, or in a vassal state. This state was neurotic about insurrection – nothing must be allowed that threatened what they considered to be the Pax Romana.

The followers of Jesus had a different perspective, of course. Those who gathered there at Golgotha were witnessing the public punishment, and slow death, of the man they loved as a preacher and teacher; a man at whose hands miracles had happened; a man they had become convinced was God’s Messiah, the harbinger who would bring in the Kingdom of God on earth.

Their grief would have been palpable as they wept, swooned, and supported each other. St. John tells us (John 19, 25) that Mary, the mother of Jesus was one of them, along with Mary wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. The disciple John was also there, but plenty of the closest friends of Jesus are not recorded as being there to see the death of their ‘master’. Yet, so many had seen this man’s works – his signs and wonders.

Disappointment and grief is shared. Grief will be transformed to joy, but they are ignorant of this as yet on an unremarkable, normal day just outside Jerusalem.

 

With hindsight St. Paul can write about this same man, and the cross he died on, in a different way. Paul personally experiences and shares the joy and the light which is the flip of the shadow side of the cross – the Risen Lord. When he writes to the Christians in Philippi he speaks of God and the cross is an entirely new and radical way. Jesus is none other than the form of God, equal to God – God emptied in Jesus (kenosis); Jesus is as a slave is, humbled, obedient, crucified. Yet at the same time in this terrible self-sacrificial act, he is exalted, has pre-eminence; every knee will bow before him and all confess him as Lord to the glory of God the Father. The cross of shame is the throne of glory, and in this man Jesus we see the fullness of the God in whom we believe, and in whom we are being saved.

When the Empress St. Helena, mother of Emperor St. Constantine, decides to make a pilgrimage to the homeland of this man Jesus, whom she accepts as Lord and God, she asks for the blessing of the Pope in Rome. In Evelyn Waugh’s lovely novel called Helena the conversation goes like this.

‘Where is the cross anyway?’ She asked. ‘What cross, my dear?’ ‘The only one, the real one’. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think anyone knows. I don’t think anyone has ever asked before.’ Pope Sylvester goes on to say, ‘You’ll tell me, won’t you? – if you are successful.’ ‘I’ll tell the world.’

In Jerusalem at Golgotha Helena is guided to search in an area covered with basil bushes – of course, the plant of ‘the King’. Just as I said earlier the hill was covered in bits of wood – the tradition is that when the right bits were put together a dead man was placed on it and came alive again.

Helena was as good as her word, and the whole world now knows of her ‘invention’, her discovery. We too are commanded to tell the whole world about the mystery of the cross, and the man Jesus, crucified for us to guide us home to the Father, the man Jesus raised by God from the dead, the man whom the early disciples, Mary, Paul, Helena, and billions of people since, have worshipped, bent the knee, and confessed that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.’ Go, and baptise all the nations’ he tells us.’ (Matt 28, 19)

Philippians 2, 6-11 expresses for us superbly, in St. Paul’s words, a paradigm – THE paradigm – of God in Christ, reconciling the world to himself. St. John (John 3, 16), expresses it in this way, ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life’.

In our own day the paradigm of God has much to teach us – the paradigm (παράδειγμα) is our example of Godly living, and at its heart is the mystery of the cross, humility, self -emptying, obedience. It is when we accept this that we can share in the mystery of our faith.

This paradigm turns upside down and inside out everything that we assume God will be. We assume that God is, in our human understanding of these words, all-powerful, almighty, omnipotent, yet Paul’s words in Philippians bring us to kneel at the feet of the one whose power and might rested in him not exercising this. I have used before the phrase, ‘the power of power not exercised.’

In Jesus, the man who died unnoticed by most people at a place where hundreds were put to death, by a method that was common-place, God chose to dwell fully, and show forth his glory in a manger in a stable, and on a cross on a little hill. As people of faith, we need to look at everything we do, everything we see, everything we assume, everything we collude with, everything we tacitly support, and apply to it the paradigm of the cross – a sign that in God’s kingdom nothing is what we expect.

In Greece this week, on the island of Lesbos, something tragic happened – we all know about it. Each of us will have a variety of views and reactions to what happened at the Moria Refugee camp. Those views might be coloured by where you live – suppose you live in Mytilene or one of the villages around it. Your view might be coloured by how the presence of this vast blight of a refugee camp has affected tourism, with the knock on effect on your hotel, your restaurant, your livelihood, the school where your children attend.

Your view might be coloured by what you think about refugees and migrants and their impact on Greece and Europe generally, and why does the EU not do more to help Greece; why should refugees be given cash cards to buy groceries when elderly Greek women, citizens, our mother or grand-mother’s age have to open the big street pedal bins to try and find something to eat or wear, or sell on for a few cents? You might be angry because your taxes are paying for the camp that was burned down by those it was built for; your taxes now pay for 900 police officers on one small Aegean island.

Your view might be one of exasperation that we allow such refugee camps to exist at all; that they are inhumane, undignified, soul destroying, a sign of our failure and the failure of the nations.

These views and many others will colour the way we respond and react to complex situations of human challenge and misery. Whatever our view, we must return again and again to the Philippian’s paradigm of Paul to rediscover what our faith says to us, and how we understand ourselves and our world, in relation to the kenotic God, who emptied himself for the sake of his love for us.

 

It is extraordinary, is it not, that this man who died on a fairly normal busy day, with just a handful of friends around him, in a way that common criminals were punished, on a little hill outside Jerusalem, should have such a powerful hold on our lives and in the shaping of our world – the mystery of that cross.

‘You’ll tell me, won’t you?-if you are successful.’ ‘I’ll tell the world.’

sermon news
05/09/2020 In Sermons & Services

Trinity 13 – 6 September 2020: : Romans 13, 9-end; Matthew 18, 15-20.

Revd. Canon Leonard Doolan – St Paul’s  Athens

 

In all of the four gospels Jesus only uses the word ‘church’ twice. The Greek word is εκκλεσία. In ancient Greek the word is used for an assembly of citizens and the word comes from a verb that means ‘to shut out’. So an ekklesia literally means an assembly where those who are not its members are shut out.

Both times this word ekklesia is attributed to Jesus occur in the central section of St. Matthew’s gospel. The first occasion is where Jesus gives to Simon the additional name of Peter, the rock on which Jesus says he will build his church, his assembly of members, his ekklesia. There is something very prophetic in this message from Jesus as after his death and resurrection small communities of faith in the risen Lord began to emerge from Judaism in Jerusalem and the whole Mediterranean region, many visited and encouraged by St. Paul.

The second occasion ekklesia occurs in St. Matthew’s gospel is in the reading we heard this morning. It is basically a passage about resolving conflict, suggesting a protocol for those who feel sinned against by fellow members of the assembly (ekklesia) and how it is to be resolved.

READ MORE